Chapter 7

"We're not going to the conference room this time, are we," Tim said.

"No. Not this time, McGee."

"I didn't think so. Should I let you lead me there or walk there myself? I know where it is."

"Just come on, McGee."

Tim smiled and followed Tony. "I knew this was coming."

"Why?"

"Oh, let's do it right. Get it all on tape. You should at least have a good record of why you're going to think I'm a murderer."

"I don't think you are," Tony said without thinking. He was surprised at the almost-stricken expression on Tim's face...before he smoothed it back to his usual bland look.

"You will."

They reached Interrogation and Tony opened the door. "We'll be right in, McGee."

"I'll seat myself." Tim walked to the table and sat down, facing the mirror.

Tony closed the door and walked away, feeling like a traitor.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Hello, Mr. Johnson. I'm Special Agent Jamie Davidson. Do you have some time to answer a few more questions?"

Hal was sitting in his office looking particularly stressed out, but he nodded.

"Of course. I can't tell you much more than I told Agent Gibbs yesterday."

"This is about Tim McGee and an incident that we learned of."

"If you're talking about the fight with Lance Corporal Smythe, you're barking up the wrong tree. That ended peacefully enough."

"That's not what we're talking about Mr. Johnson."

"What, then?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"Your former employee, Ronna Howard."

"Oh."

"We were informed that she quit three weeks ago and blamed Tim and that he spoke with you for some time. Could you tell us what happened?"

"Ronna...she raises melodrama to an art form. She didn't quit. I fired her."

"Really?" Ziva asked. "Why?"

"Because she was inconsistent in her work, because she was often late. She had a horrible work ethic and I regretted hiring her at all. She said that it was because I'd hired Tim and that she was going to be displaced just like everyone knew would happen from the beginning. I told her that wasn't true. I'd already found someone to replace her, a special recruitment from MIT, a new graduate who had interned with us last year. I had promised him a position if one came up."

"Why not use Tim?" Jamie asked. "He was already here and working for you."

"Honestly? I would love to, but I can't."

"Why not?" Ziva asked. "Is his work unsatisfactory?"

"No! It's much better than I ever expected it to be, but the fact of the matter is that Tim is too polarizing. People here either outright hate him or else they like him. There's no middle of the road and unfortunately, more of my employees hate him than like him. If I hired Tim, I'd either lose multiple people or else he'd simply be miserable. I explained all of this to him. He knows that Ronna didn't quit, that she was let go. That her accusations and high-pitched screeching were without foundation. He also knows that I can't hire him on permanently. He said that he understood although I know he was hurt by it."

"He wasn't angry?"

"No. He wasn't. I feel sorry for Tim. I really do. The way things get around in a small circle is sad and too many people know about him, about his history of mental illness. I don't know details and I haven't asked for them, but except for that one fight, he has never shown the slightest bit of instability. He's nervous around people and he's awkward, but he's not crazy and I only wish that I could have him as a permanent employee. Whoever finally sees past the gossip and the stuff on paper is going to have a real gem on their hands. I hope it happens sooner rather than later. I'm actually paying him more than I should and giving him more benefits than is required. I know his living situation isn't the best, but he's been soldiering through it and he deserves to find a place where he belongs and can be happy. ...because he's not happy here."

"You don't think he could have killed Lance Corporal Smythe?"

"Not at all. Even if you showed me a picture of him holding the gun that did it. I'd have to see him pull the trigger before I believed that he could do it."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs paused outside the door to Interrogation. He would never do this if someone was there to see him, but he took a deep breath, not wanting to start this, and then he opened the door. Tim was sitting there at the table, motionless, staring at him with what appeared to be mild interest.

"You know why you're here, McGee?"

"Yes. You must have heard about my fights with Lance Corporal Smythe, you know that I was there early, time of death must have been near when I arrived at Soft-Tech and you know that I was alone and thus have no alibi. Does that about cover it?"

"Fights? More than one?"

Tim cocked his head to the side, as if surprised by Gibbs' response.

"Yeah. No one told you about them? There were witnesses to both."

"We know about the fight inside Soft-Tech that Hal Johnson broke up."

Tim smiled emotionlessly. "I can't imagine why no one mentioned the other one. I know someone saw it. I heard them leave."

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Sure. It was two days ago. I stayed late after work and Lance Corporal Smythe did as well. I had thought that everyone else was gone, but I was mistaken. When I was leaving, so did Smythe. He followed me out to the parking lot and said he was disappointed by all the problems I was having with the program and that I should be ashamed of doing such shoddy work for the Marine Corps."

Tim's gaze shifted from Gibbs to the mirror. He was either staring at himself or at the people who were no doubt on the other side of the mirror.

"I told him he didn't know what he was talking about. I tried to be calm and civil about it, but he wasn't having that. He kept pushing at me and he got too close. I grabbed him by the lapels of his uniform and I slammed him against the building, knocked the wind out of him."

"You did that?" Gibbs asked. Tim looked like a stiff breeze could knock him over and Smythe had been heavy and muscular, a stereotypical jarhead.

"I could do it to you, too. You want me to show you?" Tim asked, his eyes moving briefly back to Gibbs before flitting away again.

"No. What happened after that?"

"Nothing. I told him that if he didn't stay out of my way and keep his mouth shut I'd shoot him right between the eyes. Interesting that he was shot right between the eyes, isn't it."

"What were you doing at Soft-Tech so early?"

"Working."

"Can you be more specific?"

"Sure, but I don't think you'd understand it if I was," Tim said.

Gibbs heard just a hint of the derision that had so colored Tim's speech before. He tried see beyond that, thinking of Ducky's words the night before. ...and then, just for a second, he saw it. Tim wouldn't look him in the eye, but he saw it...the fear. Tim was scared, but he was trying not to show it, and the only way he could think to do it was to put people off with arrogance.

"You know how to explain what's necessary."

Tim's eyes flicked briefly onto Gibbs' and then he looked away again.

"I was running through the list of bugs in the program, fixing the code and rerunning things to see if it worked. I didn't stop until Teresa came and complained about her monitor not working."

"You never heard anything?"

"No."

"Didn't know that Lance Corporal Smythe was there?"

"No."

"Never left your office?"

"No."

"Did you usually come in that early?"

"I had been for the last few weeks, but usually only by seven. I was earlier yesterday."

"Why?"

"I woke up earlier."

"Why?"

Tim's hands momentarily clenched into fists before he deliberately took a breath and relaxed them. Gibbs could see Tim was tensing up. The problem was that he couldn't know if that was because of guilt or because of the fact that it was Tim being questioned by people he loathed.

"Because I had a nightmare. It woke me up. I waited until it was light out and I came to work. No, I never saw anything or anyone suspicious. I didn't notice any problems when I came in. Nothing was out of place. No one else was there. I was alone. I have no alibi beyond that I was working on a computer program for an extended period of time."

Now, Tim's eyes were challenging, daring him to go to the next step. Gibbs didn't want to go to that next step. He pulled out the next piece of the puzzle: a photo of a gun.

"Do you recognize this?"

"It's a Sig Sauer. Looks like a standard NCIS issue."

"It was. We got new ones a couple of months ago."

"Okay. Congratulations. So?"

"This is your gun."

"Okay. And?"

"And have you seen it since you quit?"

"No. I left it in my desk, along with my badge. You've seen it more recently than I have."

"Do you know what happened to it?"

"Well, I would assume it was reissued."

"It wasn't. It was put into storage...but it's not there now. It's missing."

"Why is this relevant?" Tim asked. He seemed genuinely confused.

"Your gun killed Lance Corporal Smythe."

"What?" Tim asked.

"The striations match. It was your gun that fired the bullet which killed Lance Corporal Smythe."

Now, Tim was afraid. His eyes opened wide and kept moving back and forth from the photo of his former service weapon and Gibbs' face...like he was waiting for a punchline that wasn't coming.

Now, Gibbs took the next step. "Did you kill Lance Corporal Smythe, McGee?"

Tim was silent for a long time, looking at the photo of his weapon. He began to rub at his neck and swallowed. ...and then again.

"I..." He suddenly looked pale.

"McGee, are you all right?"

"I feel sick."

He looked it, too, and Gibbs could see what was coming. He looked at the mirror and then grabbed Tim, pulling him to his feet and to the door. Ducky was there with a garbage can. Tim reached it and threw up.

"It's all right, Timothy. It's all right," Ducky said calmly, looking at Gibbs with an inscrutable expression.

Tim finished, weak and trembling. He looked at Ducky and swallowed again. "M-My gun. Haven't...fired it...not since Jewel." He gagged and threw up again.

"Calm down, Timothy," Ducky said. "Don't worry."

Tim appeared to have forgotten that Gibbs was there. "I said I'd kill him. I said I'd shoot him...right between the eyes. I said I'd do it. My gun. He was. Just like I dreamed it."

"Timothy, it is all right. You have nothing to fear."

"I hated him."

"So did many others from what I understand."

"No...I hated him."

"McGee," Gibbs said.

Tim instantly stiffened. Gibbs couldn't see his face but he saw Ducky's dismay and when Tim turned around, he had a look of false disdain. It was patently false and only barely masking Tim's terror.

"What?" he asked, his voice still shaky, his face pale.

"You didn't answer my question."

Tim looked at him for a long moment, still breathing heavily as he struggled to regain control of himself.

"That's...That's your job, to figure it out. Do you have any more questions for me?"

"Could someone have gained access to your security cameras from outside Soft-Tech?"

"Yes."

"Easily?"

"If they knew what they were doing."

"Okay."

"Am I under arrest?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Evidence is circumstantial so far."

"We've held people on less."

Gibbs could see that Ducky was bursting to say something but he was holding his tongue for his own unknown reasons. He focused his attention on Tim. It seemed as though he was asking Gibbs to arrest him, although he couldn't fathom why that would be.

"We've held guilty people on less. Since you're not, it's a moot point."

Tim looked almost as frightened at Gibbs' words as he had at seeing his own gun as the murder weapon.

"Don't leave town. I'm sure we'll have questions for you later, but for now, you're free to go."

There was a single moment where Tim seemed poised to flee but then Ducky touched his shoulder and he relaxed and nodded. He turned to Ducky who whispered softly in his ear. Tim nodded again and then walked away. Gibbs eased by Ducky to lead Tim out of the building. Even if he knew where to go, procedures should be followed, especially right now. Tim said nothing and didn't even look at Gibbs. When they were going down in the elevator, Gibbs had a fleeting desire to stop the elevator and force Tim to explain to him what the heck was going on in his head. ...but he resisted and led Tim to the exit. He looked after him for a few seconds and then turned to go back to the bullpen when the elevator opened and Abby rushed out past him.

"Abby."

"I won't tell anything about the case, Gibbs!" she shouted back over her shoulder. He watched her run down the sidewalk, yelling Tim's name. He looked back at her and was then enveloped in a hug. Gibbs watched only long enough to see Tim wrap his own arms around Abby before getting on the elevator. As he went back to his desk, he looked at the green eyes on the monitor and wished something he hadn't in a long time.

He wished things were how they used to be.