THE NEXT MORNING -
Tony, Tim and Ziva searched for information about General Wheeler, Elizabeth Wheeler, their children and the mysterious General O'Neill. On a good day they couldn't work quietly and this day was no exception. The night before they'd left the Wheeler home and returned to the Navy Yard and Gibbs had turned them loose, but it meant a late dinner and all their original plans postponed. Their irritability from the night before was carrying over to the morning.
While searching Tony quipped, "The wife was the last one to see him alive. Suspect."
Ziva agreed, but had another theory. "He did not feel well when he left the Pentagon. That means his work colleagues are all suspects."
"Suicide, murder, natural cause, all are possibilities. The son, Marcus, lives close. I'm going to look at him."
Ziva knew women could kill. "What about the daughters or daughters-in-law? Sexual abuse? Could be revenge?"
Tony wasn't buying it. "Nope, it's the wife or that O'Neill guy or both of them together."
Ducky and Jimmy were performing the autopsy so Gibbs sipped from his second cup of the morning while his brain mulled over what they had learned the night before. It wasn't much, but a couple of things stood out; the General's job and the family friend, O'Neill. They hadn't been able to find an office contact number for Wheeler or O'Neill, so Gibbs had gone to Vance who had gone to SecNav who had gone to SecAF. A while later a captain from O'Neill's office had left a message with Vance inviting Gibbs for a talk later that morning. In the mean time, Gibbs called a couple of people he knew who might know something. One didn't pan out and the Commandant had meetings all day so Gibbs couldn't talk to him about Wheeler. He decided he would call for an appointment after the meeting with O'Neill.
At 0920 they put all the information on the plasma and then spent the next 10 to 15 minutes going over all of it.
Ron and Elizabeth Wheeler. Married 36 years. Marine Corps lifer while she was stay at home mom and sold Avon. When the kids were all in school, worked in the Sears credit department and sold Avon. In addition to standard military life insurance, there were two additional life insurance policies totaling $750,000. They were original policies from when the children were very young. Beneficiary - wife.
Four children. Denise, nurse, married to Michael Rodgers, teacher. Two children, Aaron 8, Mary Lee 6. Live in Littleton, Colorado. Lucy, paralegal, married to George Reed, works at Cessna. Two children, Madison 7, David 6. Live in Wichita, Kansas. Andrew, Marine corps captain, married to Claudette, psychologist. One child, Kathleen age 2. Another child due in a month. Live in Alexandria, Virginia with wife's parents. Marcus, ATF special agent, married to Pamela, chef. Twins due in two months. Live in Washington, DC.
They knew General Wheeler's service record had been redacted, but they were able to confirm that he'd held command at all levels from Lt. Colonel to Major General. His commendations were a little vague to say the least, but it was obvious he'd had classified postings with classified missions. They were still trying to figure out who he reported to because every lead they got went right back to the Department of the Air Force. And that just wasn't right. Lieutenant General John J. O'Neill's service record had been redacted even more than Wheeler's and they hadn't yet been able to find out much of anything and found only one good photo.
Ducky was still working on the autopsy, but he'd sent blood and tissue samples to Abby. So far there wasn't anything suspicious at all. Vance had called for an update, but Gibbs didn't have anything to tell him yet.
Gibbs left Tony and Ziva to search for more information about Generals Wheeler and O'Neill and took Tim to the Pentagon meeting with him.
The nondescript conference room located next to restrooms and between two security check points was clean with comfortable chairs and the fresh coffee was surprisingly good. Who would have guessed zoomies could make 'Marine worthy' coffee? The walls were bare except for a very large poster of a galaxy - Gibbs guessed the Andromeda Galaxy, but wasn't going to say anything to McGee - and there was a placard by the door detailing emergency escape routes.
Gibbs and McGee investigated the available reading material on the short gray bookcase and were more than intrigued with the different choices. In addition to Stars and Stripes, there were current editions of the Las Vegas Sun Times, the Colorado Springs Gazzette, the San Francisco Chronicle and someone had printed out an online newspaper, The Antarctica Sun. There was also a current edition of National Geographic magazine.
They sat down and waited for about five minutes when two knocks on the door got their attention and it clicked open. A fresh-faced 1st Lieutenant breezed in carrying a good sized box, paper plates, napkins and forks and set the box down gently in front of Gibbs. "Compliments of General O'Neill, sir."
The heavenly aroma teased the two men and Gibbs pulled up the lid. What was inside looked as good as it smelled and was still warm.
Tim's mouth was watering. "Sure smells good, boss."
Gibbs cocked his head a little, peering at the contents. "Look like pecan sticky buns, McGee."
"That's exactly what they are," a friendly voice announced from the conference room door. "Go ahead, dish 'em out. Taylor?"
"Coffee. Yes, sir."
O'Neill stepped to the chair at the end of the table. "140 calories, 8 grams of fat, 14 grams of sugar. It's the only reason I get to have one."
Gibbs was a little bit amused and started to stand up, but O'Neill waved him to stay seated. "Special Agent Gibbs, I'm Jack O'Neill." Indicating the other men he said, "Special Agent McGee, Captain Eric Taylor."
Gibbs took notice of being addressed by title and name and that the general went by Jack instead of John and didn't refer to himself as general. O'Neill was even more imposing in person than he appeared in the one photo they had found. He was tall with silver hair and looked pretty fit for a desk jockey. He had a small healed scar through his left eyebrow and one of his knees popped loudly when he sat down. After a couple of pleasantries Gibbs put four buns on four plates, the captain brought coffee to the table for himself and O'Neill, McGee declined a top off, and then the men were ready to snack and talk.
With his ride to Colorado Springs expected in 30 minutes, O'Neill got right to the point. "I have 20 minutes. Go."
"We need to talk to you. Not the captain."
"He's not here to answer questions."
The general was nice enough, but guarded. Gibbs didn't care if the younger man stayed.
"You and General Wheeler were friends."
A flash of loss crossed O'Neill's face, but disappeared quickly before he answered. "Close friends."
"And you're friends with Mrs. Wheeler and the children?"
O'Neill replied without any hesitation. "We're close. I'm MJ's Godfather." Perhaps unsure if they knew who MJ was, he explained. "Youngest son, Marcus."
Gibbs wasn't ready to ask about a more personal relationship between O'Neill and the wife yet so he went to another item on the list for interviews and interrogations. "Are you aware of any medical problems General Wheeler might have had?"
O'Neill looked thoughtful. "A little arthritis in his knees and back. He had a couple small precancerous spots removed a few years ago."
McGee and Taylor had scarfed down their sticky buns and put more on their plates while Gibbs considered O'Neill's response. He was a little surprised that the man was so forthcoming. Changing direction he asked, "I understand you saved General Wheeler's life in Kuwait."
Hesitation. "I uh, I pulled him out of a bad situation." There was definitely much more to it than that.
Gibbs took a couple of sips from his coffee cup. "His family insists he only came home alive because of you."
O'Neill shrugged. "Elizabeth was grateful." His voice softened considerably. "She and the kids got him back." He took a small bite, chewed and swallowed.
Gibbs noticed he said Elizabeth; not Beth, Liz, Liza or some other shortened version or nickname. "Did you see or speak to General Wheeler yesterday?"
O'Neill got a puzzled look on his face, but it was gone quickly and he answered, "Yes and yes."
Gibbs didn't know what to think about the look. "Did he seem sick or in pain?"
O'Neill sipped his coffee and set the cup down. "I saw him for a few minutes early in the morning and he seemed... tired."
Health problem? Poison? "Not ill?"
O'Neill shook his head. "No. I heard later that he'd gone home before noon."
Gibbs noticed that the man was clearly uncomfortable, but he didn't seem to be hiding anything.
"I was in a meeting and... then." O'Neill's tone expressed regret and then sadness. "I heard he collapsed."
No autopsy results yet so the death could be from something besides murder or health problems. It wouldn't hurt to ask. Gibbs did. "Was he having any problems? Was he upset about anything?"
O'Neill's facial expression said no so Gibbs moved on quickly. "Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt General Wheeler?"
It was like the planet stopped rotating. No sounds from the hallway. No movement or noise from the forced air heating system. No chewing or sipping sounds. No evidence anyone was breathing. Just stillness and silence. At least it hadn't gotten dark too. A look... or something passed between O'Neill and Taylor before the General quietly stated, "No."
Okay. Maybe not an out-and-out lie, but definitely holding something back. Gibbs looked at McGee, who until the last question had enjoyed his snack, coffee and time away from the Navy Yard. Neither man gave anything away, but both knew it was time to talk some more about the wife and a son who got named after another man.
"Elizabeth Wheeler is a nice looking woman," Gibbs stated innocently, gauging the man's reaction. When there was no reaction, he threw out, "Just how grateful was she that you saved her husband's life?"
O'Neill's shoulders tensed briefly and he closed his right hand into a controlled fist.
"Marcus was born a month after Ron got home from Kuwait." There went the theory that O'Neill could be the kid's father. "When S..my wife and I divorced, they made sure I was still included for birthdays and sometimes Sunday dinner."
He said they, not she. The man's words touched Gibbs as he remembered his own dark times after Shannon and Kelly died. Still, he had a job to do. "So, you got divorced and she's still grateful and you're saying that you never...?"
O'Neill looked at his hands and Gibbs saw him rein in his anger. This wasn't guilt, shame or embarrassment; it was rage. O'Neill's eyes were hard, but not expressionless and Gibbs finally saw it. The General was hiding a deep, enduring pain.
Tim felt like he was back in Stillwater, when in his humble opinion, Gibbs was lobbing softballs. The General was hiding something and they were going to find out what it was. Tim jumped in with both feet and asked, "Were you ever with Mrs. Wheeler when her husband wasn't around?"
Icy blue laser beam eyes tracked from O'Neill to McGee. Captain Taylor's napkin was suddenly just a small ball of paper in his tight fist. O'Neill's brown eyes darkened until they were almost black. He suddenly looked like a loaded spring and turned in his chair to face McGee.
O'Neill's gaze was fierce, almost predatory when he admitted, "Yes, I've been to the house when Ron wasn't home."
Gibbs would talk to McGee later about what he had done. For now he would let him run with scissors. With O'Neill turned the way he was, Gibbs looked at his ribbon rack and was reminded that he hadn't always flown a desk. His longevity ribbon with one silver and three bronze oak leaf clusters translated to at least 36 years of service and the badges were interesting. Parachutist and space? Hmm.
Tim hadn't expected the man to admit anything. What was he admitting? He looked at Gibbs, who gave nothing away. The question hadn't been asked the way Gibbs would have done it, but oh well. O'Neill had definitely reacted to the suggestion of an affair with the widow.
Before McGee could ask a follow-up question, O'Neill said, "I'm not sure what you want to know." Yeah right. "Or why you want to know it." Bull.
Gibbs held back a small smile.
Trying and failing to not act miffed, O'Neill made a request. "Just ask me direct questions and I'll answer what I can."
Tim looked at Gibbs. Gibbs looked at Tim.
"Okay." Tim seemed a little unsure, but Gibbs indicated he should continue.
"General O'Neill, yesterday you were seen hugging Mrs. Wheeler."
O'Neill didn't react or say anything. Tim waited. And waited.
Finally O'Neill quipped, "Do you have a question for me, Agent McGee?"
Tim was flustered, but determined and thankful that Tony and Ziva weren't there. Why was he letting the General get to him this way? He mentally smacked himself and asked the direct question. "What is your relationship with Mrs. Wheeler?"
tbc
Thanks for the reviews and follows. I appreciate everyone who is giving this story a chance.