HClarissa Bishop stopped a few minutes in front of her building doors while managing to equilibrate her shopping bags and searching her damned keys around her purse. It was a time consuming activity but she actually felt good that afternoon. She had successfully managed a big sailed to her company and couldn’t wait for her boyfriend to arrive and start to celebrate.
The apartment complex where she lived was close to downtown, in a calm part of the city so she wasn’t overly concerned about her security when a white van from a well known Home Improvement contractor stopped in front of her building and a tall, brunet man carrying a duffle bag came down.
He tipped his cap to greet her and asked her if the woman on apartment 42-B was at home, introducing himself as the painter she had asked for it. At the mention of her foreigner neighbor, Clarissa eyed the man standing in front of her curious about what the reclusive Ziva David would be doing on her apartment.
She proceeded to engage in a light conversation with the man, delighting on the small details of her neighbor’s house life. Soon enough, the elevator came to her floor and she bid goodbye to the chatty painter leaving him to his affairs, unaware that she just had left a total stranger inside her building.
Two floors later, the mysterious painter arrived at the apartment 42-B and, after fighting with Ziva’s sturdy lock for a few minutes, opened the apartment’s door. It was a small two-bedroom apartment that surprised the visitor by the impressive lack of personal stuff.
A meticulous search through her bedroom revealed no pictures, no personal papers or letters, nothing beside bills, newspapers and old magazines. It was a complete waste of precious time that left the intruder frustrated by the lack of help and in dire need of venting the anger building inside of him.
It started on her living room, hands were consistently breaking every single object they could find, reducing them to useless pieces. The action wasn’t enough: it progressed to the kitchen, bathroom and the guestroom; the only thing intact in the whole apartment.
After that, the intruder gathered his things and moved to the door, locking it behind himself and walking calmly to the elevator and after that to his van. Once he had drive away from the area, he reprehended himself for the lack of patience and the mess he head done in the job.
‘He won’t like it, but this way is probably better. She isn’t right for my Tony…’
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was around 06:00 pm when Dr. Atwood deigned to go home, a big white house located in a very nice neighborhood on the suburbs. Gibbs and Ziva were watching the house for 20 minutes when another car came by and stopped in front of the house garage.
Two women came down from the SUV and Ziva took her pictures generously to later ID them. The driver was a young blonde woman who appeared to be in her twenties while the second one had dark brown hair and was being helped to a wheelchair. Seeing Atwood leave the house in order to help them and noticing the care he devoted to the brunette, Gibbs guessed that was the man’s wife. After collecting the shopping bags, the group went inside the house talking animatedly.
About two hours later, the blonde woman left the house, carrying a duffle bag and a purse and the agents concluded her to be the housekeeper. Before any of the agents started to get bored, a black SUV parked behind their car and McGee came by to report his findings.
McGee told them what he had found on Atwood’s life, except the death of his son for cancer and his wife suffering from catatonia. The good doctor had graduated in the top of his class and was known to be a dedicated professional, well respected by his colleagues.
The same could be said of his wife, Antonia. MIT student, expert on designing computer programs who once had worked in governments projects. The wife’s job had caused the family’s arrival in Washington almost a decade ago and people believed that the shock of loosing her child had caused her current health state.
“One last thing, boss! A… I found a picture of their son, Michael.” McGee stuttered while searching nervously through the papers he had brought with himself. His hands shook a little when he finally found and delivered the photo.
It was a picture of High Scholl graduation, showing an athletic brunet young man with shining green eyes and a childish smile on his face. Surprised by the photo, Ziva spoke aloud “He looks like Tony!”
Gibbs only response to the photo was to stare at the house more intensively and say to the present members of his team “We got a motive”.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Gibbs had returned to the hospital to solve things with Tony after telling Ziva to go home and get some rest since McGee and Lee would take the night shift over Atwood’s house.
She scurried home since she had being on surveillance the whole day, surviving on coffee and sandwiches. She was concerned about the recent break on the case, but still needed a good night sleep and a decent meal to recharge her energies.
As exhausted as she was, there was no way she would miss the small damages inflicted on her door’s lock. With her weapon in one hand, she opened the door slowly, trying to surprise whoever made the foolish mistake of breaking and entry her house.
She didn’t have to worry since the invader had escaped a long time ago, but whoever did that mess couldn’t say the same. The Mossad agent was furious at the invasion of her privacy and the lack of respect on her things: the invader had destroyed all her possessions!
Walking to her bedroom, she noticed that nothing had been broke in there, but someone had wrote a message using red paint on her wall. ‘Not good enough’ was written in capital letters…
Ziva didn’t have much to do, except check her personal papers hidden in the apartment in order to transfer them to the local embassy. She would only call Gibbs once the “currier” had left her apartment.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Outside Tony and Ducky’s room, Gibbs was listening intently the conversation going on between Abby and Tony. He had arrived on the hospital few minutes ago and wasted a few minutes to consider what he would tell Tony about the case, more specifically, about Dr. Atwood’s fixation on him.
He had to treat the issue carefully, since he knew that the younger man thought Atwood to be a gentle older man who saw him as a son. That thought itself made his gut churn in protest. He truly wanted to believe that it was a simple reaction at Tony being in danger, but, to be honest, the man had tried to occupy a place that belonged only to him. ‘Bastard’.
At was Abby’s voice that made him come back to reality “Now, I was able to ID Cynthia’s fingerprints on your wardrobe…”
“Sweet Cynthia.” Tony quipped back in a dreamlike voice.
Getting the reaction she was looking for, Abby continued “…but what the really scary part was finding Director Shepard’s fingerprints on your nightstand.” Tony choke with the water he was drinking at hearing that piece of info, red spreading fast on his face as he fought to breathe properly.
Seeing Gibbs entering the room at that horrible moment only made it worse. His Boss moved to his bedside and patted his back firmly to force him into breathing, a little too firmly to Tony’s taste. After successful managing a few good deep breathes, Tony looked at his Boss face and noticed there was something on the man’s mind.
“Aren’t you going to explain Tony?” Abby insisted innocently.
Tony glared at her, knowing exactly what she was going for. He looked at his Boss and asked him the first thing that popped in his mind “Hey Boss! What is going on?”
Recognizing the question as the diversion it was meant to be, Gibbs allowed himself a small cynic smile and said “Aren’t you going to explain the Director’s fingerprints on your nightstand DiNozzo…?”
“Would you believe me if I told you she was helping me to choose what suit I should wear on a date with Jeanne?” He said hoping for the best.
“You were naked in your bedroom with the Director??” Abby gave a loud whistle, waking up Ducky on the other bed.
“My Jethro… You’re back. Any news on the case?”
“Yes, I believe we have a suspect.”
“Who do you think it is, Boss?” Gibbs considered Tony for brief seconds. He had concluded that it was Tony’s best interest to know the identity of their suspect.
But before he could say anything, his cell rang and DiNozzo’s name flashed in the caller id...
Tony noticed the second Gibbs’ shoulder tensed and looked straight into his eyes.
“Gibbs.”
“Tsc. You’re not very polite, are you Agent Gibbs?” Gibbs would always remember and recognize that voice. He gave a look that Abby interpreted as ‘start tracing this call now’ and waste no time in acting accordingly.
As he saw Abby calling to MTAC to start tracing he took and unperceivable breath and steeled himself for the conversation that was to come. “What do you want?”
Whoever was on the other side of the line chuckled hearing Gibbs’ demand, “You’ve been warned before Agent Gibbs and yet you choose to ignore it. Now, I’m coming for him, you make sure you tell him that …”
“I’ll tell him nothing! You won’t be able to get any closer to him, you…”
“Did your little rat lab managed to trace this call yet?” The stalker said patiently over the phone.
Gibbs could hear the bastard smiling on the phone. “Hope you don’t run once we meet.”
“Enjoy your lat moments with him, Gibbs, they’re coming to an end; I’m letting you keep him save until I come.”
“Son of…” Gibbs was getting tired of playing the game, but the stalker’s next words got his attention.
“And say goodbye to Ziva as well.” And, with that final line, the stalker was gone. Abby looked at Gibbs and confirmed his suspicions; the phone call had been too short to trace it.
“Damn. Call NCIS and tell them to send back up to Ziva.” Gibbs moved automatically to the bedroom’s door with Tony chasing behind him after the young man jumped out of his bed.
When Tony’s voice registered on Gibbs brains, they were already on the elevator “She isn’t answering her land line Boss.”
“What the hell do you think you are doing Tony?”
“Coming with you” Tony pointed out while Gibbs was trying to reach Ziva through her cell.
Gibbs would have ordered him to go back to his room if Tony hadn’t stopped him, “Look Boss, the way I see I can come together with you or follow you to wherever you’re going, but I AM COMING.” He stared straight in to Gibbs eyes and tried very hard to look like the stubborn ex-marine he knew his Boss was. ‘Do not blink. Whatever you do, do not blink’ he chanted in his mind.
“Fine.” He said tossing his own cell to Tony’s and concentrated on getting in to Ziva’s apartment. “Call McGee and ask him if there are any changes on his surveillance”.
Tony nodded his head and jumped over the passenger seat, he had a feeling Gibbs would strive for a new record. “Hey probie, tell me what’s going on!”
“Tony?”
“NOW, probie!”
“Ah... right! Dr. Atwood working on his library and wife is watching television”
Tony suppressed his shock over the stake out, but relayed the information to Gibbs, gaining another barked order “Tell him to get his ass over there to check if they are really at home; to knock on his damn door if he has to!”
“On it, Boss.” Tony passed the order to McGee and called Ziva’s cell not getting any answer from it. “Can’t reach her on her cell either, Boss” Tony said frustrated.
Chapter End Notes:
Sorry Guy's! I posted a wrong chapter before.
Now, it's the right order! Again, very sorry!
Now, it's the right order! Again, very sorry!