Chapter Seventeen

They're Here

McGee stood in the observation room between Ziva and Ferreira watching their suspect squirm under Gibbs' intense glare. After days of zero leads and getting nowhere, it all came together very quick. Tim felt quite pleased with himself for following his own hunch. They'd run out of all viable leads, and the gun they'd thought was the murder weapon was ruled out. Gibbs had been rabid with fury and made them all go with him when he had to tell Marine Sergeant Jones that they had no leads whatsoever on who had murdered his family.

Gibbs had promised they wouldn't stop looking until they found something, and he'd meant it. Tim had been grabbing a few mandatory hours of sleep at his desk, and he wasn't even sure of the last time he'd actually been back to his apartment. Desperate to get away from Gibbs' bad mood and find some sort of lead, he'd remembered Tony's constant assertion that the spouse had done it whenever they had an unsolved murder. Tony could be annoying, but he always found a lead. Tim was ashamed to realize he'd never given him credit for that. He decided to try and think like Tony… despite lacking his partner's extensive film knowledge.

Brenda Jones' husband had obviously been overseas, and the couple didn't have any hidden funds that would've enabled him to hire a hit. It didn't seem likely, anyway. Sticking with the spouse theory and needing some sort of new lead, Tim started looking into Edward Kaplan's wife. Kaplan was Brenda Jones' boss and the owner of the gun that had been ruled out. Slim, he knew, but he had nowhere else to turn.

What he discovered was that Kaplan's wife, Gretchen, was having an affair – with the husband of Brenda Jones' best friend, Trudy DaSilva. That was the key. Tim discovered that the Kaplans and the DaSilvas had met through Brenda Jones. Tim had spoken with a devastated Trudy DaSilva the day after they'd found the bodies, and she said that Brenda had visited her the day of the murder wanting to talk, but Trudy's husband returned early, interrupting them. She'd made plans to have lunch with Brenda the next day but never had the chance.

Tim could almost feel the fury radiating off Gibbs as he sat across from James DaSilva, Trudy's husband, in the interrogation room. He'd been giving DaSilva his famous death glare for nearly an hour, and DaSilva was squirming. Tim didn't think it would be much longer before he broke. Tim wanted to watch, but he wished either Ziva or Ferreira would leave since the hostility coming off each of them made it feel a bit like being inside a powder keg. They did not like each other.

"We have video evidence of you having dinner with Gretchen Kaplan when Brenda Jones stumbled upon you," Gibbs said, his voice a low growl when he finally spoke. He shoved a photograph across the table towards DaSilva.

"So? People go out and grab a bite to eat all the time. It doesn't mean anything," DaSilva said belligerently.

"No – but the roses on the table indicate a more romantic setting than just 'grabbing a bite,'" Gibbs said, and Tim could hear him putting air quotes around the words.

"They were there when we sat down," DaSilva replied, shrugging. Tim noticed that his hands were clenching and unclenching. He wasn't as comfortable as he wanted it to appear.

"Then why were you holding hands with Mrs. Kaplan, and why did you both pull away so quickly when Brenda Jones walked into the restaurant?" Gibbs asked, shoving another photo towards DaSilva.

DaSilva shifted uncomfortably. "Just… surprised to see her there is all."

"Surprised to see her, or distressed that she caught you having an affair? This isn't the only time you 'grabbed a bite to eat' with Mrs. Kaplan, is it, James?" Gibbs asked.

"You don't know what you're talking about," DaSilva said, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

"Brenda Jones caught on right away, and you panicked when you found her visiting with your wife the next day. She was going to expose your sordid little affair, and you couldn't have that, could you? So, you decided to get her out of the way… but why kill her son? He was only nine! A boy that had played at your house with your own son. What the hell is wrong with you?" Gibbs asked, shouting and shaking with rage by the time he'd finished.

Mr. DaSilva had pulled away, shaking his head and clearly panicked. "It wasn't like that… I didn't–"

"Didn't what? Have an affair? We know you did, and we have more than enough evidence to prove it in court, never mind to your wife," Gibbs snarled.

"Did you tell Trudy?" he asked, aghast. "You can't tell Trudy. She's a lawyer. She'll make sure I never see my kids again."

"Let me get this straight. You killed another man's child because you were afraid you wouldn't get to see your own?" Gibbs asked incredulously.

DaSilva was sweating profusely now. "It wasn't like that! He wasn't supposed to be there."

"He discovered you murdering his mother," Gibbs said, narrowing her eyes.

"I didn't want to kill her. I just wanted to scare her, but she wouldn't shut up. She wouldn't listen. She was going to tell Trudy, and I kept telling her what a bad decision that would be, that she'd ruin my family and destroy my kids," DaSilva said, moaning.

"She didn't do that. Telling the truth wouldn't have done that. You did that by cheating on your wife in the first place. This is all on you, and I don't want to hear your excuses," Gibbs said coldly.

"I just wanted to scare her off. Convince her not to tell Trudy, but she wouldn't listen, and I panicked. I shot her, then when I looked up, I realized Jamar was in the room. I couldn't leave a witness. It would ruin everything. I had to do it," he said, pleading and looking at Gibbs as if he expected absolution.

"You didn't have to do anything but appreciate the family you did have. I hope you can live with it, because you'll have a long time to think about what you've done," Gibbs said, disgusted.

He got up and rapped on the door with his knuckles. Tim noticed his hands were shaking, and he suspected Gibbs had to get away before he caused any bodily injury. Tim really wouldn't have blamed him if he did. He, Ziva and Ferreira met Gibbs in the corridor outside the Interrogation room where a guard went in to secure DaSilva.

"I'm going to go see Sergeant Jones and tell him we've got the culprit. McGee, you should come along. You did good," Gibbs said, already striding away from Interrogation and back toward the squad room.

Tim's chest puffed out, enjoying the rare praise. He couldn't quite stop his eyes from straying to Ziva and Ferreira to see their reactions, but as they rounded the corner into the bull pen, they were both staring straight ahead, wide-eyed. Tim turned quickly to see what they were looking at. His heart plummeted when he saw a large number of the Hoover boys emerging from the elevator, including Zachary Dubois, the agent who'd been in charge of the hostage situation, along with Tobias Fornell. Tim was even more surprised to see Assistant Director Vance leading the group toward the stairs.

The last time this had happened – which wasn't all that long ago – Jeanne Benoit had accused Tony of murder, and the FBI investigated the entire team. Tim couldn't predict what had happened now, but he didn't imagine it could be anything good.

Vance had noticed their arrival, and his cool gaze surveyed them all. "Special Agent Ferreira and Officer David, please accompany us to the Director's office," he said, never slowing his stride.

Ziva looked askance at Gibbs, who nodded his head minutely. She and Ferreira followed most of the group up the stairs, while Fornell and one of the agents remained behind. Once the Director's door had closed, Fornell turned to Gibbs.

"Is there somewhere we can talk… securely?" he asked.

Gibbs stared at him for a moment, but he must've seen something Tim couldn't because he nodded his consent. "Follow me. You, too, McGee," Gibbs said.

Tim followed, pleased to be included even if he had yet to work out what was going on. He knew Ferreira had been upset with Ziva for not waiting for a search warrant, but that wouldn't include the FBI. Something else was going on… but he wasn't sure what his own involvement was, or why Gibbs wanted his input. Usually, Gibbs and Fornell saved their private discussions for the elevator. Instead, Gibbs led them to a small conference room and closed the door behind them.

"McGee, check the room to be sure it doesn't have ears," Gibbs said in Tim's ear.

Of course, Tim thought, deflating. He wanted Tim to check the equipment, not to hear what was being discussed. His spirits tumbling, Tim began sweeping the room. Neither of the other two men spoke, and Tim thought it was a pointless exercise until he found a small listening device pressed beneath the table holding the water pitcher. He dropped it in a glass and poured water on it, disabling the device.

"I can't believe there's actually a listening device in here. Who would do that?" Tim asked, amazed.

Fornell chuckled. "It's a Federal building, McGee. Assume everywhere is bugged."

"Except the elevator," Gibbs said, showing one of his rare half-smiles.

"Actually, the elevator can still be bugged. It's more difficult with the confined space and all the moving parts, but it is possible," Tim said.

Gibbs shook his head, smirking. "I've had DiNozzo routinely sweeping our elevator since he was a Probie."

Tim's jaw dropped slightly. "Er… Boss, Tony's not that good with that kind of stuff. How can you be sure it was done?" he asked, his insides clenching. If someone had been spying on the things Gibbs discussed in the elevator, there'd be hell to pay for all of them. Why had he never been told about this? He could've scanned it in an instant.

Gibbs sighed – almost patiently for Gibbs. "Who do you think did all the technological work before you joined the team?" he asked.

Tim's mouth worked furiously. Tony never did any of the computer work. He typed with two fingers. He always asked Tim's help whenever anything needed to be done that… that… That would mean Tony had been getting him to do all the extra work – even work he did know how to do. His eyebrows shot upwards, shocked.

"Work smarter, not harder, McGee," Gibbs said, smirking as if he knew exactly what Tim was thinking, and using Tony's familiar phrase to do it.

Tim felt color suffusing his face.

"Are you two finished, or are you not interested in a sitrep?" Fornell asked, drumming his fingers on the table.

"What've you got Tobias? Certainly not coffee," Gibbs said, grumbling.

"There's a pot right there," Fornell said, indicating the coffee pot on the same service table where Tim had found the bug.

Gibbs glared. "That's not coffee, and you know it."

"You'll have to excuse my lack of manners in enabling your caffeine addiction. I wasn't driving this party bus," Fornell said, smiling.

Tim thought he seemed very pleased to be denying Gibbs his favored drink, but Tim wasn't sure the FBI agent was aware of the dangerous ground he was treading on.

"Who is? DuBois?" Gibbs asked sharply.

"He and the Assistant Director of NCIS seem to be in cahoots on this one. Your Director is in some hot water. Again," Fornell said.

"The Director?" Tim asked. "Why?"

Gibbs frowned, letting Tim know with a look to listen, not speak. It reminded Tim of his childhood.

"Apparently, someone from within this building has been monitoring FBI files into the investigation at the Marriot Marquis a few weeks ago – specifically looking for the testimony of one Jeanne Benoit. I found it very interesting since your Director was so interested in that very same witness," Fornell said.

When neither Gibbs or McGee seemed remotely surprised by this information, Fornell narrowed his eyes. "You knew. I suppose you also know computers in this building were being monitored, as well," he said, glaring at Tim. "Did you do that?"

"No! I removed the trackers, but I didn't put them there," Tim said.

"What's the outcome, Tobias? Why is Vance here? What are they going to do about it?" Gibbs asked.

"Agent Ferreira filed a complaint about Officer David, and the Director tried to squash it. Vance is using that along with the FBI's complaint as justification for a full investigation into her activities. She's being suspended," Fornell said.

"And Ziva?" Gibbs asked.

"Vance seemed oddly hesitant to terminate that position altogether as DuBois recommended, but he's sending her to FLETC for some procedural training," Fornell replied.

"She'll hate that," Tim said, knowing how furious and humiliated Ziva would be. He wouldn't want to be in Ferreira's shoes for anything following that meeting.

"She won't have a choice," Fornell said.

"How long is Director Shepherd's suspension?" Gibbs asked.

Fornell shrugged. "Undetermined. I suppose it depends on what they find. She seems overly interested in the Benoit girl. Why is that? Does it have anything to do with the Frog's business operations?" Fornell asked.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "If you can find that out, I'd like to know, as well," he said.

"I know the FBI finished taking Jeanne Benoit's statement, but she hasn't left town. Do you think that has something to do with the Director?" Tim asked.

Gibbs was the one who answered, however. "No. That's unrelated."

Both Fornell and Tim looked at him questioningly, but Gibbs didn't say anything else.

Unable to stand the prolonged silence any longer, Tim asked, "Then why is she still in DC?"

"Well, McGee – it seems Ms. Benoit is having as hard a time getting over Tony as he is getting over her," Gibbs replied tightly.

"Is that so?" Fornell asked, perking up before narrowing his eyes calculatingly. "Do you think any of that renewed or lingering interest is at the Director's request?"

/* /* /* /*

Gibbs stepped off the elevator heading for Autopsy. It had been an eventful day, and he wanted to get his old friend's take on it, even though he knew Ducky was upset with him for his behavior toward DiNozzo. Gibbs had pushed it all down to focus on the case, but now that it was over, it was weighing heavy on his mind – and he hated that.

He and McGee had gone to see Marine Sergeant Jones to tell him that the man who had murdered his family was in custody and should remain there for the rest of his natural life.

Small consolation to the devastated soldier.

"Ah, Jethro, there you are. I wondered when I'd be seeing you," Ducky said as soon as the electronic doors slid open. He was standing over a scale with some body part lying upon it while taking notes on his pad of paper.

"What's on your mind, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"Well, first things first. I picked Anthony up after his physical therapy appointment yesterday and drove him home. He said it went well, and he certainly looked as if he'd been put through the proverbial wringer," Ducky said.

"He in pain?" Gibbs asked, frowning. He knew if their angry words were still ringing in his head, DiNozzo would have a symphony booming.

"I think so, but you know Anthony – he's not going to mention it if its real, and he neglected to bring his pain medication with him," Ducky said disapprovingly.

Gibbs snorted. "That's because it makes him loopy."

"Yes, well, he is particularly sensitive to it, but not taking it is only going to stretch out the healing process and make him more uncomfortable than he needs to be. Of course, he hasn't had the best role model when it comes to self-care," Ducky said, scowling at Gibbs.

"What else?" Gibbs asked, ignoring the barb.

"Pardon?" Ducky asked, perplexed.

"You said first things first… that usually indicates a next."

"Ah, so there is. I saw Ziva earlier looking rather distressed – well, as distressed as she ever allows herself to be in public. Abigail also mentioned that the FBI has been holed up in the Director's office all afternoon. I don't suppose you know anything about either of those things?" Ducky asked, eyebrows raised.

Gibbs sighed. "Ziva is being sent back to FLETC for more training."

He didn't want any unsubstantiated rumors flying around the water cooler about her disappearance, but it wasn't as if it wouldn't be noticed.

"Scuttlebutt already in full force?" Gibbs asked, knowing Ducky would already be in the know, despite the fact he'd come right out and asked. It was one of the things he liked about Ducky – he got right to the heart of the matter.

"I heard she and Special Agent Ferreira disagreed on this last case," Ducky said delicately, putting his pad of paper down.

"More than disagreed. He wrote her up, and it was warranted. She didn't wait for a search warrant, and the defendant's lawyer is citing her with illegal search and seizure. Could've blown the entire case if the gun she found was actually the murder weapon," Gibbs said.

"So, perhaps FLETC is best. As I recall, she didn't attend like the others when she first arrived here," Ducky said.

"Nope, and I think it's necessary. She disobeyed a direct order at the Marriott Marquis, as well, so it's time she get pulled back in line. She's not happy about it, but she'll get over it," Gibbs said.

"And the Director?" Ducky asked.

"She's made her own bed, and I can't look the other way again," Gibbs said.

Ducky's eyes widened behind his glasses. "What exactly does that mean?"

"She's still putting her own personal vendetta ahead of her obligations to her job and the people under her. Her fixation on La Grenouille has switched to his daughter, and she's stepped on a few FBI toes. I don't know what she's thinking."

Ducky crossed his arms across his chest. "Do you think she's compromised?"

Gibbs tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he perused his friend. Something about the question set off an alarm in Gibbs' gut, and he vividly recalled Abby telling him about Ducky running medical tests on a John Doe they didn't have documented at NCIS. Ducky hadn't outright acknowledged the tests were for Jenny, but he hadn't denied it, either.

"What do you know, Duck?" he asked piercingly.

"I'm merely asking if you think her decisions indicate a lack of mental competency," Ducky said.

Gibbs gut was churning. "I don't think her decisions have been competent since she put my best agent undercover with no back-up and only a shaky contingency plan. If you know something about her mental state, you need to tell me," he said.

Ducky rose to his full height. affronted. "No matter how you may belittle it, I took an oath, and I could lose my medical license if I divulge anyone's medical history. That might not concern you, but you'll forgive me if I take that oath seriously."

"Not taking anything lightly, but there are lives at stake."

"Has she been suspended?" Ducky asked briskly.

Gibbs shrugged. "Hasn't been officially announced, but I've heard she was."

"Then she doesn't have any other lives in her hands for the moment."

"Not at NCIS, anyway, but it'll give her more time to pursue her suspicions about Jeanne Benoit," he said, his urgency increasing.

"Do you think she presents a threat to Dr. Benoit?" Ducky asked.

"I know she's still in town, and I know Jenny has been looking for her," Gibbs said.

"I spoke with her yesterday. She was waiting for Tony when I dropped him off," Ducky said.

Gibbs eyes opened wide. "You kept that quiet."

"I wasn't aware I was under any obligation to report back about his social life," Ducky replied, turning back to his notes.

Gibbs scowled. "Don't give me that. We're all interested in what's going on between those two."

"Interested or irritated?" Ducky asked.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Ducky huffed impatiently. "Don't be dense, Jethro, it doesn't become you. Not one of you have hidden your displeasure at the idea of those two reigniting their flame, and I think your displeasure is probably pushing them even closer together. You didn't do yourself any favors with your scene the other night."

Gibbs' lip curled. "I'm just concerned she's keeping him for focusing on healing."

Ducky sighed dramatically. "Oh, bloody hell. Don't treat me like I'm dense, either. You're worried about him, and while you have a right to be, you're going about it entirely wrong. I'm well aware of your feelings on apologies, but you owe that boy one, and I highly recommend you swallow down that crow pie and get on it with it before it's too late. If you're right, and the Director is trying to get to Jeanne, she's used Tony as that tool before. It would be better if he had you watching his back this time."

/* /* /* /*

A tentative knock on his door pulled Tony off his couch, standing straighter to wipe away the cobwebs and adopt a carefree air. Old habits died hard, even though he knew it wasn't necessary with this particular guest. He swung the door open wide to reveal Jimmy Palmer, holding Tony's familiar go-bag and two cups of steaming coffee.

"Thanks, man," Tony said, grinning and reaching to take the bag. "You're a lifesaver. Come on in."

"No problem. It wasn't hard to get it while the team was all up in Interrogation this morning," Jimmy said happily, following Tony inside and handing him one of the cups.

He'd asked Jimmy to bring his go-bag to him discreetly. The last thing he needed was to alert the team he was travelling. He had other bags he could've used for his weekend trip, but he really liked this particular one, and it contained everything he needed.

"Mmm… Jamaican blend. I love this stuff," Tony said, inhaling deeply.

"I know. No one else drinks it, so I thought I'd bring some along. Gibbs says you take your coffee like a five-year-old would if they drank coffee," Jimmy said, chuckling.

Tony grinned. No matter how pissed he might be with Gibbs, he did enjoy how his boss took his fondness for sugar as a personal insult to coffee. Sometimes winding him up was entirely too easy.

"Did you say they were in Interrogation? Did they make an arrest?" Tony asked as they took seats in his living room. "Ducky told me about their case."

"Yeah, apparently Gibbs got a confession. I haven't seen them at all today. Something's going on with the Director, though."

"Do tell," Tony said eagerly, leaning forward.

"I'm not sure exactly. Even Abby didn't know, but she said the FBI showed up, and they're working with the Director on something. There are a bunch of them at headquarters," Jimmy said, eyes wide behind his glasses.

"Working with the feebs? No wonder Gibbs was scarce. You're sure you didn't hear what was happening?" Tony asked.

"I'm sure. You're my best source of information. Without you there, it's been downright boring," Jimmy said glumly.

"I know you miss me," Tony said, beaming. "It's hard to have a party without the life of it showing up."

"Why did you need your go-bag all of a sudden. Are you going somewhere?" Jimmy asked.

"Heading up to Boston for a second opinion on my shoulder," Tony said without missing a beat. He knew he could trust the Autopsy Gremlin, but he didn't want to put him in a position of having to lie if questioned.

"Are you going alone? I could go with you," Jimmy said, frowning. "I mean… I know you're capable – Federal agent and all, but since your movement is limited–"

Tony pulled an affronted face. "There's absolutely nothing limited about me, Palmer. You should know that."

"Of course not! I just meant–"

"I know what you meant, and I appreciate it. Not necessary, though. I'm not going alone," Tony said, patting Jimmy on the shoulder.

Jimmy looked at him suspiciously. "Is this a reputable second opinion? You're not going to some hack who'll sign you off to return early, are you?"

Tony grinned, showing a lot of teeth. "Would I do that?"

"Yes," Jimmy replied emphatically. "You shouldn't though. You could do long-term damage."

"Relax, Dr. Killjoy. Reputable doctor, reputable hospital. Even my physical therapist signed off that it's a good idea, and she loves to see me in pain," Tony said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm sure that's not true. If you didn't feel any pain, it wouldn't be working," Jimmy said, nodding earnestly.

Tony waved him off. "Yeah, yeah – heard it all before. No pain – no gain."

"So, who's going with you?" Jimmy asked.

Tony smiled easily, thinking Jimmy was taking on Ducky's habit of asking endless questions that he didn't want to answer.

"A friend of mine who also has business in the city. I'm really looking forward to getting out of this apartment. I've been here so long I'm considering re-decorating. You'd be surprised what ideas get into your head if you watch too much HGTV."

Jimmy narrowed his eyes, apparently knowing Tony was trying to distract him but unsure what to do about it.

"Just don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said finally.

Tony's eyebrows rose. "That wouldn't let me have any fun at all. Look, I appreciate the concern, but I'm actually travelling with a doctor, so I'll be fine," he said, deciding to just come clean. He'd promised he wouldn't keep Jeanne a secret, and the cat was out of the bag now, anyway. Of all of them, he thought Jimmy was the easiest to tell, so why not start with him?

"Oh! Oh, that's a good thing then," Jimmy said uncertainly.

Tony grinned wryly – Jimmy could never pull off the role of an undercover operative. "Yes, I'm travelling with Jeanne. We're… seeing if we can start over on the right foot this time."

"I'm happy for you, Tony. I hope it works. You deserve to have someone in your corner," Jimmy said, smiling shyly.

"I thought that was you," Tony said, and he meant it.

Jimmy shrugged before grinning slyly. "It is – but… I think you'd prefer to look at her."

"You got that right. Thanks, man. I appreciate it more than you know," Tony said.

"I take it that it's not public knowledge yet?" Jimmy asked.

"Ducky and Gibbs know, so it's not a secret, but I'd prefer if you'd let me tell people when I'm ready," Tony said. There was no reason Jimmy should have to put up with all the negative attitudes from the others.

"I can do that. Have a great trip, and don't forget to bring your meds."

"You've been hanging around Ducky too long."

Author's Note:

Thanks so much to my wonderful beta, Unilocular, who's been so helpful with getting me to now make Gibbs so wordy.

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