Brain was in a mood. Don't question it, lol. Enjoy!
Gibbs and his team stepped out of their vehicle at the crime scene of a young model who'd been strung up on an OCS security fence at Quantico. He'd passed by the herd of press by one of the gates, already in a foul mood when his coffee had been spilled by the pushy reporters. Thankfully, his M.E. had shown up to the scene and was knelt down by the body to examine her with his assistant by his side and a number of military officers standing nearby to secure the scene. Gibb's eyes briefly trailed over the nearest officer and the large black giant schnauzer seated by their side but he was quick to turn his attention back to the victim.
"Wow, she really was beautiful," Palmer sighed as Dr. Mallard—Ducky—hummed.
"She still is, Mr. Palmer." He glanced over at Gibbs as he approached. "She's been dead for at least five hours, Jethro."
"I'm more interested in how she got that way, Duck."
"Well, her body is covered with these lacerations. None of them appear to be fatal," he noted, eyeing the various nicks and cuts on her torso, limbs, and face.
"We'll know more when we get her back," Palmer offered, hesitating when they eyed him before shifting back toward the fence. "I'll just go get the gurney now."
"Who moved the body?" Gibbs asked as the officer nearest them spoke up.
"I did, sir," she replied, drawing his gaze to the blank-faced woman's dark green eyes. "Once the M.E. gave the okay, myself and another officer removed her from the fencing." She nodded toward one of the men who stepped forward and offered him a flash drive. "Photos were taken before moving her but that's where my crime scene knowledge ends. We had a vehicle and a tarp up to prevent the reporters from taking pictures until then."
Gibbs stood and faced her, giving her a once-over and finding her name and rank on her uniform. "You have any crime scene experience, First Sergeant Frost?"
"Minimal," she replied, eyeing him back with the familiar confidence of a strong-willed, stubborn woman used to dealing with people who looked down on her. "Enough to know that moving a body before being given permission could compromise things and that even the display of a body at the scene can be telling of what may have happened. Nothing else was touched or removed and all officers involved wore gloves, sir."
"Mm," Ducky hummed, smiling at Gibbs when he glanced at him. "Impressive, Sergeant. Not every day we deal with someone who knows what they're doing."
"Educated guess," she replied gruffly. "Others are concerned about public affairs but I couldn't give a damn. Staff Sergeant McMannis deals with that. I stay well away from this mess if I can."
"You're here now," Gibbs pointed out and she glanced at him with a hint of annoyance.
"Not willingly."
He was curious about what she meant but didn't press on the issue when he was here to figure this out. "How'd she get up there?"
"Trying to climb, based on how we found her," Frost answered as he approached the fence and damaged barbed wire at the top. "Don't know why. As far as I'm aware, all participants have the option to be here. She could leave if she just asked."
The rest of the team stepped through and Gibbs headed over, passing the flash drive off to McGee.
"McGee, photos. Ziva, interview the rest of the models. DiNozzo—"
"Boss, I'm pretty familiar with the show. Maybe I should interview them," Tony requested as Ziva agreed.
"That would work for me. I hate models."
Gibbs eyed the two of them for a moment. "Is that so?" Gibbs took the camera off McGee and pressed it and the flash drive into Tony's hands. "McGee, help Ziva interview them. Any other suggestions DiNozzo?"
"No, I think I got it," Tony said, making Gibbs crack a small smile.
"Good. I'm going to need to see all the footage that you shot on this thing," Gibbs asked Frost, who nodded.
"Understood. Post-production office is right over here," she said, leading him as the dog followed right by her side and he eyed it.
"What's with the dog?" He asked, curious more than anything.
"Worked with him for years," she answered simply, letting him into the office and moving to one of the computers to get him the information she needed as the dog settled under the desk by her legs. "Couldn't live without him."
Gibbs hummed, feeling there was more to the story than just that but she was military. They weren't always open to talking and he got the feeling she was less so than others. She finished doing what she needed and offered another flash drive that she dropped into an evidence bag for him.
"That should have everything on it. All unedited footage since they started the show here."
"Feels a bit too easy, Sergeant," Gibbs lightly chided, knowing there was usually a bit more fighting between agencies when it came to getting what they needed.
"The crime isn't my jurisdiction. Producer wants to complain about it, they're more than welcome."
Gibbs smirked. He liked her. Definitely not a pushover and he doubted anyone would want to pick a fight, much less a civilian. Intimidating dog or not, she practically oozed stubbornness and was obviously one of the least pleased officers about the show going on. Sooner it was over and press were gone, the sooner she could get back to whatever it was she wanted to do. He lifted the bag as he headed for the door.
"We'll be back later when we find more evidence and tell Sergeant McMannis we'd like a word with him when we do."
"Yes, sir," she replied easily, and off he went to try and figure out more about what happened to their mysterious dead model.
First Sergeant Morgan Frost stood before a group of men on the grounds, replacing the absentee Sergeant McMannis, knowing where he probably was and hoping that he wasn't making things harder for the agents from NCIS. As much as she wasn't pleased about them being there, she was more displeased with the show happening on base. Getting the murder figured out would mean getting the show finished faster, or so she hoped. The only reason she was dealing with the show nonsense now was to appease the higher-ups who weren't thrilled about the bad press and as punishment. The sooner they could get rid of her the better and she was very much aware of what they thought. She was a liability but she was good at what she did, which gave them no real reason to discharge her unless she gave them one and she was really tempted to give them one. The military was her life though. It was all she had and all she'd known for far too long. She wouldn't give it up easily.
Thanks to the show though, she'd been given McMannis's extra duties. While he was off playing with models, she had to pick up his slack. She had better things to do, really, but as it was she'd been laid off missions recently. She knew when she was being punished and this was certainly it. It made her antsy and the cameras only aggravated that. The dog at her side nudged at her elbow, making her let out a heavy breath and unfold her arms, dropping a hand on his head to calm herself down as McMannis stepped out with the two remaining models and camera crew in tow. She didn't want to be on camera or anywhere near the filming but thankfully the crew moved between her and the pullup bars that the models were soon struggling with.
"Get up! Let's go! Move! Come on. Show me what you're made of! Come on now. Just two more!" McMannis ordered from them as they strained before Hannah Bressling dropped with a complaint.
"I can't do it anymore!"
Morgan rolled her eyes but kept her attention on the group in front of her and called for them to stop and start stretching.
"What did I tell you about the word 'can't,' Bressling?" McMannis snapped at her as Natalie Vance dropped down as well with a huff.
"Taylor's the only one who took any of this Marine stuff seriously. But you knew that, right, Sarge?"
Morgan closed her eyes, reaching up to pinch at the bridge of her nose before dismissing the group she had when yet another headache stormed over.
"Get the cameras out of here," Crawley demanded with Ziva and Tony following behind him. "Was he here? Answer me, Hannah!"
McMannis moved between him and Hannah when he grabbed her arm. "You're hurting her arm, sir."
"My daughter's dead, Staff Sergeant. If she's responsible, I'll do more than that," Crawley threatened as Morgan moved up.
"Not on my base, you won't," she said sharply, making him frown as he jerked out of McMannis's hold. "And if I hear a threat like that again, reports will be made and you can kiss your production goodbye."
"Who is 'he'?" Ziva asked then, as Crawley glared at Morgan in annoyance.
"Noah Keller, Taylor's ex."
"Noah Keller, he was here?" Ziva asked the models and Hannah gave in.
"A couple of days ago. Big deal."
"Did you know this?" Crawley asked Morgan but she shook her head.
"Not my jurisdiction. Sergeant?"
McMannis shook his head as well. "I wasn't aware."
Morgan muttered something under her breath about security and visitor logs before nodding to Crawley. "Take him for a walk to cool down, McMannis."
He nodded, looking between the remaining group as he led Crawley away. Tony glanced at Morgan then.
"We need to speak with them alone."
She nodded, not bothered by the dismissal and glancing at them. "I'll check the records and see if he signed in as a visitor. Get the time and day for you."
"Appreciate it," Ziva hummed, getting a nod as the other woman walked off.
Goddamn drugs? On base? What a shitshow this is turning out to be, Morgan thought, pulling off her cap and running her hand through her short-cut auburn hair. This case is going to cause a lot of problems.
Things weren't exactly going well with the case so far. Everything was pointing at a lover's quarrel thanks to a Dear John letter written by the first victim to their newest second victim—her ex-boyfriend who'd also seemingly overdosed. Two overdoses with two different kinds of drugs on the same day wouldn't have been shocking if it weren't for the nagging feeling that there was something they were missing. Thankfully, Gibbs's gut was rarely wrong.
"Our initial assumptions were far from correct," Ducky explained in the autopsy room. "When I examined him just now, I found fresh bruises on his upper back, the left shoulder. The x-rays indicated a severe fracture of the left scapula and a clavicle that was almost completely crushed."
"He was in a fight?"
"Yeah, well, injuries of that nature… His left arm would be completely useless."
"Someone else shot him up," Gibbs concluded.
"Well, Abby's tox screen showed that Mr. Keller had a blood-alcohol level of .34. His heart was pumping so slowly that most of the heroin was never even metabolized."
"He was passed out."
"Yes, I'm afraid our young man was unconscious when the drug was administered."
Gibbs thanked him and headed back up to the bullpen where his agents were sitting around chatting about watching television and playing games.
"Keller didn't commit suicide. He was murdered," he declared, sitting down only to see Tony and Ziva just staring and he waved at them. "What the hell are you two doing? Find out why."
Tony hung up a phone call as McGee got up and approached Gibbs's desk.
"Boss, I think I might have something."
"Are you waiting for me to guess, elf lord?" Gibbs quipped, making Tony snort as McGee handed him a printout.
"No. Sorry. Um, I was searching through Noah Keller's cell phone records. The night that he died, he received three calls. Two were from his business manager, the other was from Hannah Bressling."
"Get back down there then. Take DiNozzo with you."
"Yes, boss."
Gibbs's phone rang then and he picked it up with a sigh. "Gibbs."
He was mildly surprised by who he heard on the line.
"This is First Sergeant Morgan Frost. I believe I may have some information that might be useful."
"Lay it on me, Frost."
There was a small pause on the other end that he raised a brow at before the woman sighed.
"I have reason to believe that McMannis and your victim were seeing one another."
"Do you have any proof?" He asked, leaning back and ignoring the curious gazes aimed his way from the other agents in the room.
Again, a pause. "Nothing substantial. He called her by her first name, confronted Bressling about her attitude more than once regarding the victim, has mentioned knowing her belief on the use of drugs—"
"If you don't have anything substantial—"
"And security footage," she finished off, though not sounding pleased about it.
"Why didn't you lead with that?" He questioned, sensing that she had been hesitant about calling in the first place and about mentioning this.
"I'm not supposed to have access to the footage," she admitted. "It's grainy and without proper enhancement, you can't tell who it is but I checked with those who did the rounds and they said the only one from this area who was out was McMannis. A note was made but ignored because—"
"Because no one cares about a Staff Sergeant not being in his bunk at night," Gibbs concluded. "What time was this footage taken?"
"0117, outside the mess hall."
"I'll have my staff look into it. Get McMannis here within the hour."
"Yes, sir."
He hung up and turned to Ziva. "Ziva, tell Abby to check the security footage outside the mess hall at 0100."
"A lead?"
He nodded. "Let's just say I'm not the only one who bends the rules. McGee, I want you downstairs. We're about to have a visitor."
McGee was only mildly surprised when a little while later two familiar faces stepped into the NCIS building. McMannis looked the most concerned, for obvious reasons, whereas Morgan walked in with the ease of someone who'd been there before. McGee wondered if she had but his attention flickered down to the dog at her side as she headed over.
"Agent Gibbs wanted to speak with McMannis," she declared, drawing McGee out of his daze.
"Right, yes. Here." He handed over some visitor passes for them to wear and sped them through security before leading them to the elevator.
Once upstairs he led McMannis to the interrogation room and stepped back out to find Morgan waiting patiently; arms folded and leaning up against the wall.
"Um, you don't have to stay if you don't want to," he offered, drawing her cold gaze that reminded him all too much of Gibbs. "D-Do you want a water? Something to drink?"
"No, and I'm under orders to stick around until he's released or something comes up to connect him to the crimes," she grumbled, turning her gaze away.
"Right. I'll just… let Gibbs know."
Gibbs hadn't seemed surprised when he'd returned from getting a coffee to see her there and when McGee awkwardly informed him she wouldn't be leaving, he shrugged. Could be worse. He started heading her way, given she was right by the door to interrogation, and only paused when he saw the large dog at her side.
"He go everywhere with you?" He questioned as she glanced at him.
"Yes… He keeps me right."
It was a silent admission that the dog wasn't just a regular working K9 and Gibbs wasn't about to press for more. She'd stuck her neck out to help them with their case. The least he could do was not pry until it was over. He nodded toward the interrogation room, inviting her in which made her hesitate before following. The second he opened the door though, Tony jumped with a small shout of surprise.
"What the hell's with you, DiNozzo?"
"Nothing," Tony lied, glancing briefly at Morgan as she watched the one-way mirror where the Sergeant was waiting on the other side. "Uh, I was just telling Ziva about your interrogation techniques."
"I'm not interrogating McMannis. You are," Gibbs said, surprising him as he took the folder from him.
"Ooh, thanks, boss. You know, I could've used a little more prep time—"
"I'm not talking to you, DiNozzo," Gibbs corrected, taking the folder back and handing it to Ziva. "He is all yours, Officer David."
Ziva glanced at his offer and over at Morgan for a half second before speaking. "You are aware that I've never performed an interrogation without inflicting some sort of pain."
Gibbs just smiled slightly and Ziva took the folder but still watched Morgan. This was someone she worked with they were about to interrogate. Feeling eyes on her, Morgan looked back and raised a brow.
"What? You don't need my permission. As far as I'm aware, I was never here."
"You heard her," Gibbs pressed as Ziva stepped out to head into the next room and he shot Morgan a look. "You're not close with McMannis? I thought you worked together."
She glanced at him, gaze cold. "We do. Doesn't mean we have to be close." She turned back to the mirror. "If he's done something to screw up his career or position, then he should be punished accordingly. A woman is dead and I hold no sympathy for the person who did it."
Tony cleared his throat awkwardly as Ziva stepped into the interrogation room on the other side of the mirror and started; bringing up the footage on a screen inside and pulling her chair away from the table.
"This footage was pulled from a Quantico security camera. It was taken at 0117 the morning Taylor Shane was murdered."
"That's an interesting technique," Tony muttered, eyeing the chair she'd moved.
"She doesn't want to tempt herself," Gibbs explained, catching the slight upturn to Morgan's lips; the first hint of emotion he'd seen from her other than annoyance.
"Tell me what you know, Staff Sergeant," Ziva demanded, settling in her seat and McMannis pulled something out of his pocket.
"Okay if I dip, ma'am? I promised Taylor I'd quit. We're both addicted to nicotine," he admitted as he put some tobacco in his mouth.
Ziva scoffed. "A supermodel who spits tobacco?"
"She smoked, but it's against the rules at boot camp."
"So you supplied her with your snuff there?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"And junk food?"
"Sometimes," he admitted.
Morgan sighed lightly but said nothing.
"And the midnight walks? You did that with every girl, Staff Sergeant?" Ziva asked.
"No, just Taylor; we didn't want anybody to find out about us until the show ended."
"Find out what?"
"That we were in love, ma'am."
"This is the worst defense imaginable. The idea of a supermodel falling in love with a guy like this," Tony drawled, earning matching looks from Gibbs and Morgan as Gibbs gave him a once-over.
"Okay, why is that?"
"Well, it's absolutely ridiculous, you know? Supermodels date guys like George Clooney, or guys with George Clooney's bank account, or—of course—the actual George Clooney, but not guys like this. They don't date guys like this. Definitely not guys like this."
"Meaning marines, DiNozzo?"
Tony had to double-take, realizing he'd stepped on a mine with his comments. "No, I didn't say that. I mean, I would never say that. He thought I meant Marines," Tony chuckled, looking over at Morgan who held very little amusement for his poor joke.
Gibbs's phone rang and he answered it. "Yeah, Gibbs."
It was Abby and he agreed to meet her, letting Tony know before he walked out, comfortable leaving Morgan to watch the rest of the interrogation.
"Taylor was nothing like her reputation. She was, she was... normal, like a regular girl. I know it sounds weird, ma'am, but I fell in love with her the moment I met her," McMannis insisted as Morgan watched, lightly frowning and running her hand over the top of her dog's head as he leaned against her leg.
"And she felt the same way?"
"We were going to get married once the show ended. She was done with modeling. She... She was sick of the whole lifestyle."
"And the reason you failed to mention you were with her a few hours before she died?" Ziva pressed.
"Who'd have believed me, ma'am? Hell, it was my life. I barely believe it myself."
"I believe you."
"You do? So I'm free to go?"
"No. I think we will charge you with murder instead."
He was getting more wound up, sweaty, and reaching for his head. Morgan frowned, having never seen him get so worked up and while the situation may have called for it, it seemed excessive. There was a whine distracting her from the scene playing out and she looked down at her dog who had moved. No longer beside her, he was over by the door, lighting pawing at it. She headed over and opened the door, knowing something was wrong. He never acted like this unless there was something going on. He was a military-trained K9 who didn't fuss and whine about a bathroom break. He had other ways of getting her attention for that, so this was something else. The only time he whined like this was—Drugs.
"Shit," Morgan cursed when the dog went right for the interrogation room and barked once.
She opened the door, startling Ziva into standing as the dog rushed in and barked again at McMannis.
"What are you doing?" Ziva demanded, looking between her and the dog in unease and annoyance. "You can't just barge in here—"
"The victims died from drugs, right?" Morgan cut her off, eyeing McMannis as he held his head in his hands. "Rus, heel!"
The dog moved back to her hip and went quiet but bared his teeth with a low growl, wanting to bark again but holding back.
"Yes, why?" Ziva asked.
"Rus is a sniffer dog," Morgan informed her, eyes fixed on McMannis. "He's been drugged."
Ziva's gaze turned to McMannis in surprise, having assumed that his reaction had been stress from hiding something and being interrogated. McMannis stood up suddenly, making Morgan's dog bark again.
"I-I have to leave here now," he said, eyeing the dog with unease before Morgan stepped forward.
"Sit down, Sergeant," she ordered and he flipped the table in response.
"What are you doing to me!"
"You've been drugged," she replied as Tony slipped into the room. "Now, sit down or I will make you sit down."
"You did this to me! You're trying to destroy me!" He bellowed, grabbing the chair before Morgan sighed.
She reached out and grabbed the chair from him, stunning him with a hard palm hit to the face. He jerked back, ignoring the blood from his nose and the pain in his face thanks to the drugs in his system before lunging at Morgan. Even Ziva had to admit she was impressed when Morgan grabbed his arm, twisted it, swung him to the floor, and pinned him with a knee in his back and arm pinned up behind his head.
"I told you to stay down," she snarled. "Rus, DPT."
The dog hurried over and laid on the man's back as he screamed and flailed, tucking under her arms as Tony gaped and the door opened again. Gibbs stepped in with his gun drawn but lowered it at the sight.
"The guy just went crazy, boss," Tony muttered.
"He's ODing on PCP," Gibbs said, pushing Tony to the door. "Get a medical team in here DiNozzo." He hurried over and joined Morgan and her dog in holding the man down, leaning toward McMannis to question him. "Where'd you get the chew, Sergeant? Sergeant!"
"From the show," he wailed. "What's happening to me, sir?"
"You've been drugged," Gibbs explained, pulling out his handcuffs and starting to cuff the man as he glanced at Morgan. "Good work, Sergeant Frost."
She didn't comment and just got her dog off the man as Gibbs helped him onto his feet for the medical team that soon arrived. Once he was sent to the hospital—Morgan going with him after contacting her commanding officer—Gibbs went back down to Abby with the chewing tobacco that he'd taken.
"This is what I would call some serious snuff," she commented the next morning when the tests were finished. "The Staff Sergeant's chew was laced with 400 milligrams of PCP. A typical hit for a user would be between seven and ten milligrams."
"What are his chances, Abby?" Ziva asked.
"Depends on how much PCP he ingested. How long was he dipping?" She asked as Tony and Ziva glanced at one another awkwardly. "That long, huh? Let's just hope he has better luck than Taylor Shane."
McGee stepped in then, finishing off a phone call. "Staff Sergeant McMannis is stable at Bethesda. Still in critical condition."
"Any prints?" Gibbs asked Abby.
"I was able to lift two latent prints. One matches Staff Sergeant McMannis…"
"And the other?"
"No owner yet but it does match a print lifted from Noah Keller's syringe."
"Whoever killed Taylor, killed Keller," Ziva confirmed as Gibbs pulled out his phone.
"Sergeant Frost, I want everyone involved from the show gathered up. We're on our way."
Morgan watched silently as Tony pulled out a kit and got it set up on the table before the two models, who eyed it uneasily.
"What's that for?" Hannah asked.
"It's a fingerprint kit," Tony replied, no longer as cheery with the two women as he had been.
"Why?" Natalie questioned.
"Someone tried to kill Staff Sergeant McMannis today," Gibbs informed them as Ziva expanded on it.
"His chewing tobacco was laced with PCP. Whoever did it left a print on the can."
"The same person who murdered Taylor Shane and Noah Keller."
"Whoa, you think it was one of us?" Natalie gaped.
"Oh, we know it was one of you," Ziva replied shortly as the producer, Crawley, sneered at them.
"You were always jealous of her, Hannah. You're also the one who introduced her to Keller."
"Me? Jealous of a crackhead? Please, Tom, you're stretching it a bit."
"But why would we?" Natalie asked. "That doesn't make any sense."
"Taylor Shane was in love with Staff Sergeant McMannis," Morgan replied, and the two women couldn't argue with the cold look on her face.
Hannah scoffed, looking at Ziva. "Fingerprint away, sweetheart. It wasn't me."
"We don't need it," Gibbs said simply, confusing them. "They're already on your arrest record."
"From the time you beat up your assistant with a cell phone, I believe?"
"Well, it wasn't me," Natalie pressed.
"Nope. We've got yours too."
"Yeah. Remember that time you drove your SUV through the front of Limelight?" Tony reminded her and all eyes went to Crawley.
"Whoa, what is this? I-I loved Taylor," he argued before getting defensive. "Wait a minute. I'm not giving you permission to take my fingerprints. I want to talk to my lawyer first."
"We don't need permission. You're under arrest for murder," Gibbs declared as he handcuffed him, and Ziva and Tony took over explaining.
"You didn't want Taylor to give up her career to marry a Marine, but you couldn't stop her."
"Too bad she was addicted to nicotine too."
"You killed your own daughter?" Natalie gasped.
"It was an accident! What was I supposed to do? She was going to throw her life away. Be some... Be some jarhead's housewife!"
Hannah laughed though. "Thanks, Tom."
Ziva rolled her eyes and slapped her hands on the table in front of her. "What's so funny, honey?"
"The ratings on this one will really be through the roof."
Ziva took a breath but Tony grabbed her arm just as Morgan spoke up.
"Unfortunately for you, it won't. The military won't allow a stunt like this to air, so all footage is being confiscated and destroyed. You'll both be escorted off the premises and returned to whatever idiotic life you had before trying to fool around on a military base."
"What? You've got to be kidding!"
Morgan stared at her, gaze icy cold. "Do I look like I'm joking? Now, get out of my sight."
The woman huffed but got up and left as Natalie trailed after her, leaving Ziva to smirk.
"Are they really canceling the show?"
Morgan shrugged. "Won't be allowed on this base anymore and they are confiscating the footage as we speak." She checked her phone for the time. "I've got a meeting with the General so I'll be on my way."
"It's been nice working with you," Ziva offered, getting a grunt as the woman stepped out with her dog at her side.
"Well, isn't she just peachy?" Tony muttered sarcastically.
"Reminds me of Gibbs."
"Yeah? I would hate to see the two of them together. Double teaming missions, giving me the same cold look—"
"Getting hit twice upside the head?" Ziva joked making him wrinkle his nose.
"Yeah, here's hoping that's the last we see of First Seargent Frost."