Hello, Columbus
Chapter One - Friday
The phone on Gibbs's desk rang at 1:30 on a Friday afternoon. The other members of his team looked up alertly from their desks, almost holding their breaths. They were not on call this weekend; they would not be happy to catch a new case right now that would require working the weekend.
"Gibbs!" the man barked into the phone. Almost immediately, though, his expression changed to one of happy delight.
"Well, hi, sweety," he said.
His team looked at each other with wonderment. Sweety? From Gibbs?
Gibbs listened to the voice on the other end of the line while his expression gradually returned to grim anger.
"I'll be there shortly," he said, hanging up the phone and grabbing his bag. As he loped toward the elevator, he threw an "I'll be back" at his now dumbfounded team.
At three, the team looked up when the elevator chimed. Gibbs had returned, but he was accompanied by a very young woman, whom he led to DiNozzo's desk.
"Um, Tony, I have a favor to ask of you," he said, somewhat hesitantly.
If the team had been dumbfounded before, by now they were absolutely amazed—Gibbs calling him Tony instead of DiNozzo, asking him for a favor, and sounding uncertain.
DiNozzo blinked once and replied, "Sure, boss, what is it?"
Gibbs hemmed a bit before asking, "Do you have plans for the weekend?"
"Uh, well, yeah, I do, but nothing I can't cancel," Tony replied. "What's up?"
Gibbs gestured toward the girl at his side, who was regarding DiNozzo solemnly. "This is my goddaughter Lauren. We just got word her father was murdered back in Columbus. I want to go do what I can to help, and I figured since you went to OSU…."
"I could birddog for you?" DiNozzo finished.
"Yeah," said Gibbs.
Tony was already shutting down his computer and picking up both his backpack and a small bag from one of his desk drawers.
"I've got an overnight bag packed and ready to go in the trunk of my car," Tony told Gibbs.
"Good." replied Gibbs with an audible sigh of relief. "We have to get on a plane within the next hour. I'll brief you on the way."
Tony hastened to follow his boss and the goddaughter no one had known about toward the elevator, but he spared a moment to turn to his thunder-struck teammates and wish them a good weekend.
With Tony's bag stowed in the trunk of Gibbs' car, they set out for the airport, and Gibbs began briefing Tony.
"Lauren just graduated from high school. She's been in town for the last few days, interviewing for summer intern positions."
Tony twisted around to look at Lauren in the back seat. "Where did you apply?" he asked.
"Department of Agriculture," she told him. At his puzzled look, she explained, "I'm really interested in plant biology."
"Oh. Good field," he said, not having the slightest clue about it. He turned back to Gibbs.
"Lauren's mother, Neva, called her this morning. Neva and Bob Bullard and I have been friends for years. Bob and I were in basic together. He was already dating Neva. Once he got through basic, they got married, and when Lauren was born, they asked me to be her godfather.
"Anyway, someone called Bob last night around eight. He left right after that, but he never came home. This morning a dog walker saw his car parked near the river with him sitting in it, and when they came back the same way he was still sitting there, so they called the police. He was shot through the open car window at about five paces' distance."
"What kind of work did he do?" Tony wanted to know.
"He was an insurance agent," Gibbs answered. It was apparent to Tony that Gibbs was trying to be detached and professional about the case, but his composure was slipping, even if ever so slightly. This man had obviously meant a great deal to him. In the back seat, Lauren had listened quietly, but tears were running freely down her face.
"Did he have any known enemies?" Tony asked Gibbs.
"Lauren?" Gibbs said in response.
"As far as I know, everybody liked daddy," the young woman replied.
During the flight to Ohio, the two men sat on either side of Lauren. Gibbs had his arm around her, doing what little he could to console her while her tears continued to flow. While Tony flipped through the in-flight magazine, he watched the pair out of the corner of his eye. He saw both concern and anguish in Gibbs's attitude, and he thought he understood what the older man would have been like if he'd had children of his own.
When the plane landed in Columbus, DiNozzo discovered Gibbs had already reserved a rental car. "The family's going to be busy enough; they don't have to spend time chauffeuring us around," Gibbs explained, and Tony had to agree.
Leaving the airport, Tony pointed the car west into the now setting sun. Lauren had given him her home address, which he recognized because it was near the University. Traffic had lightened since the evening rush hour, and they made good time. Pulling up in front of the Bullard home, Tony saw a substantial two-story house painted white with dark green trim. The house was framed by a lush green lawn fringed with cheerfully colorful flower beds. A huge maple tree sported a tire swing, and bicycles littered the front walk. A basketball hoop was mounted above the garage door. It looked like a well lived-in family residence.
Even before Tony turned off the ignition, the front door opened and three people pelted out. One was an older, shorter, and plumper version of Lauren, followed by two teen-aged boys. The woman flung herself into Gibbs' arms, crying "I'm so glad you're here." She shed a flurry of tears against Gibbs' chest as he held her and murmured, "I'm so sorry, Neva," and the two boys joined in a weepy group hug. When the tears subsided, Gibbs introduced Tony to them. Neva, of course, was the late Bob Bullard's wife and Lauren's mother, and the two boys were Eric, 16, and Lance, 13, Lauren's brothers. "Everybody, this is Tony DiNozzo, one of the agents I work with. He graduated from the University, so I brought him along to help me find my way around."
Gibbs had taken a step back, but his arms were still around the tearful widow. "Thank you so much for coming, Jethro," she said. "And thank you, too, Mr. DiNozzo."
"It's Tony, ma'am," he told her.
Gibbs said, "I couldn't not come."
Suddenly they heard someone scream "Jethro!" Looking at the house next door, they saw a very short, very plump woman running as fast as her legs could carry her toward them. As Mrs. Bullard had done, she fairly leaped into Gibbs's arms and burst into tears. Like a spring shower, though, the tears passed quickly. "It's so good to see you, Jethro," she declared, her face still wet.
"Mrs. Pellegrini, it's good to see you, too, although I wish it were under different circumstances," Gibbs replied.
This resulted in a brief return of the freshet of tears. During this outburst, Neva Bullard began explaining the logistics of their visit.
"I asked Rosa if she wouldn't mind putting you two up in her downstairs bedroom, and she said that's fine," Neva said. "A bunch of our relatives are going to be arriving any minute now, and our house is going to be full. And we've kind of organized a potluck supper for everyone."
Having let go of Gibbs, Rosa Pellegrini had moved to Neva's side and was absently patting her arm consolingly.
"And who is this with you?" Rosa asked Gibbs, looking admiringly at Tony.
"My senior field investigator, Tony DiNozzo."
"DiNozzo?" Rosa stepped up to Tony and pinched his cheek. "DiNozzo?" she said again. "Mr. DiNozzo, do you like lasagna?" she breathed seductively.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied with an enthusiastic smile, "and please call me Tony."
"Tony," she told him, beaming, "it will be an honor to have you and Jethro Gibbs staying in my home."
Neva broke in. "Rosa, why don't you take Jethro and Tony over and get them settled in? By that time, the rest should be here, and we can finally have some dinner."
The bedroom that Rosa showed them into was small, and the two twin beds took up most of the space, but the room was neat and cheery. Once they had set their bags down, she showed them the bathroom across the hall. Then she bustled them down the hall to the kitchen.
"Piero, Piero, come see. It's Jethro Gibbs," she called.
There was a moment's pause, followed by the squeaking of the hinges on the screen door to the back porch. Piero Pellegrini turned out to be not much taller than his wife. He had a round head going bald on top and a fringe of black hair around the bald spot, and his upper lip was adorned with a huge handlebar moustache as if to compensate for the loss of hair elsewhere.
"Jethro Gibbs!" he declared, grasping the tall ex-Marine's head to plant a kiss on either cheek in the Italian manner. "Let me look at you."
Through all this, DiNozzo had watched almost with amazement. Gibbs, the tough ex-Marine, second B for bastard, had a huge grin on his face and seemed to be eating up the attention and affection these people were demonstrating toward him, and, even more surprising, he was returning it with evident sincerity.
When Gibbs introduced his younger associate, Tony too was embraced and kissed. "DiNozzo, eh?" Piero said. "A friend of Gibbs and a paisan'? What could be better? Welcome, welcome. We are honored."
Rosa reminded them that the Bullards were expecting them for dinner. They had smelled the unmistakable odor of home-made lasagna as they entered the house, and now they discussed who would have the responsibility of carrying the huge, steaming pan over to the Bullards. In the end Gibbs took charge of it, while Tony was assigned to carry napkins and other accessories for the feast. As they crossed the lawn, Piero scuttled alongside Gibbs, urging him not to trip.
It spite of that, somehow the trek was accomplished without mishap. The Bullard house by now was full of people, most of them congregating around the large dining room table, where the meal was laid out. Once relieved of his burden, Gibbs greeted many of them with the familiarity of prior acquaintance, and he and DiNozzo were introduced to those they didn't know. The atmosphere was sorrowful but still festive.
Neva Bullard clapped her hands and announced they should eat right away before the hot stuff got cold and the cold stuff got too warm. She said a brief grace and urged everyone to dig in.
Within minutes Tony found himself sitting on a sofa in the living room with a full plate and a glass of chianti at his side. Next to him on the other side was Lance Bullard, bolting down an astonishing quantity of lasagna and garlic bread. Close up the boy appeared to be on the sharp edge of onset of puberty. His skin was slightly splotchy, and his developing adam's apple bobbed up and down as he ate. He was still fairly short, his voice a childish tenor. Facial hair had yet to put in an appearance. DiNozzo didn't envy him the changes his body would be putting him through right at the same time he had lost his father.
Unaware of Tony's regard and slowing the pace of his chewing, Lance looked up at him.
"Are you a real fed, like Uncle Jethro?" he asked slightly breathlessly.
"Sure am."
"Do you have a badge?"
Tony spared a hand to hold open his jacket so the boy could see his badge.
"Wow!" he breathed. Again he looked up at DiNozzo. "And a gun?"
Tony pulled his jacket even further open.
Lance was silent for a long moment, during which Tony could almost see the next question forming in his brain. "Have you ever shot anyone?"
With an inward sigh, Tony replied, "Yes, I have."
"Did the guy die?"
"Sometimes. But it's not a good thing to shoot someone unless you absolutely have to. It's not like TV or the movies."
"Right," Lance replied, scooping the last mouthfuls of lasagna into his mouth. Getting to his feet, he went in search of dessert, telling Tony as he went, "Wait till I tell the guys!"
Lauren suddenly appeared in front of Tony bearing a plate with a huge piece of chocolate cake. Handing it to him, she sat down on the cushion lately vacated by her little brother.
She was not conventionally pretty, but her face was animated with intelligence, which made her beautiful in a way. Her thick hair, cut short, was a rich shade somewhere between dark blond and light brown. Even wearing a t shirt and overalls, it was easy to see she had a voluptuous figure. Tony couldn't help thinking that, if he were younger, she would be a prize catch. He had a feeling, though, if he tried, he would catch something a little more lethal from a very protective Gibbs than a head slap.
She looked up at him solemnly, tears held in check for the moment but threatening to return. "Gibbs said when you've finished he wants to meet with you and mom on the back porch to talk over the…the case."
"All right," he answered, and putting down his plate and taking her hand in his, he continued, "I'm very sorry for your loss. And I promise we'll do everything we can to find out who's responsible for your father's death."
"I know you will," she answered sadly. "Dad always said Jethro was the best. And he brought you along to help, so I guess you must be the best, too. Uncle Jethro doesn't stand for anything less."
Tony retrieved his hand. "So, you're Gibbs's goddaughter?" he asked, curious about their relationship. "I suppose you've known him all your life."
"Oh, yes," she replied, "it seems like I've never not known him."
"Is he good to you?" Tony asked gently.
"He takes his responsibility very seriously," she responded with a slight smile. "The only thing I can complain about is that he comes to visit us so rarely because he's always busy. But even when he can't come, he always remembers holidays and birthdays. And we try to talk at least once a month on the phone. He's such a good person."
"Yes," Tony said. "Yes, he is." Not for the first time, Tony found himself wondering what Gibbs had been like when he was young. Bob Bullard would have known, but he was no longer around to tell tales on Gibbs.
"How long was your dad a Marine?" Tony asked Lauren.
"Four years, and then he and mom moved around for a few years before they settled down here. And it was a while before they had me."
Standing up, she walked over to an upright piano in the corner of the room and retrieved one of several photographs that stood upon it. Returning to sit again next to Tony, she showed him the photograph. It was of four beaming adults, the one who was obviously Neva holding an infant in a long white gown and baby bonnet.
"That was taken at my christening," Lauren told him. "That's my dad," she said, pointing to the man who was not Gibbs. "And that's my godmother. She was mom's high school friend. She died a couple of years ago."
Tony studied the photograph, especially the much younger Gibbs he saw there, still in his Marine uniform. That broad, carefree smile was seldom seen these days.
While several other people took care of cleaning up, Gibbs, DiNozzo, and Mrs. Bullard sat in wicker chairs on the screened back porch. It was completely dark by now; the lights on the porch glowed yellow, fireflies skittered here and there through the back yard, and occasionally a bird chirped sleepily. Even in the low light, Neva's eyes were rimmed with red.
"What can you tell us, Neva?" Gibbs asked.
"There's not much more than what I told you over the phone," she said. "Bob got a call around eight last night. I wasn't really paying attention, so I didn't hear what he was talking about. After he hung up, he put on a jacket and told me he had to go out for a while. Very often his clients will call him when they've had a problem that might be covered by their insurance. I thought maybe it was something like that."
Tony asked, "Weren't you worried when he didn't come back?"
"Yes, a little bit. But occasionally it's happened in the past. Not very often, but it has happened. I figured if someone had had a serious accident or something like that, he'd be dealing with police or going into the office to make sure everything was in order."
Gibbs said, "So you didn't hear from him at all after he left?"
"No, not until this morning when a policeman came to the door to ask me to come with him to identify Bob…the…Bob's body." Up to this point, she had been calm. Now she covered her face with her hands, sobbing quietly a couple of times. The two men stayed silent.
"It was horrible, Jethro," she told him, looking up again. "The…the bullet hit him right here." She pointed to her left temple. "There was blood all over the car. He fell against the steering wheel, and blood was running down onto his legs. He was facing away from the window, and someone had to pull his head back by the hair so I could look at his face."
Both Gibbs and DiNozzo had puzzled looks on their faces.
Gibbs asked, "Why didn't they wait to have you do the identification until after he was at the morgue?"
"I don't know," Neva answered. "Something about connecting the person to the car, I think."
Again, she put her head down, holding it in her hands. "Horrible, horrible, horrible," she repeated through her sobs.
Gibbs reached out to hold her hand. "There's probably not much we can do right now," he told her, "but first thing in the morning, DiNozzo and I will pay a call on the police department and see what we can find out about their investigation and if there's anything we can do to help them."
Her eyes holding an ocean of tears, she looked up at her friend. "Jethro, just having you here means so much. If you can help find out who did this, it will be wonderful, but in the meantime, just…just thank you for coming."
"How could I not come?" he repeated. "You and Bob are among my oldest friends. I helped him buy your engagement ring."
"You were a groomsman at our wedding," she continued, smiling slightly through her tears at the memory. "The handsomest man there after Bob."
"I never would have survived after Shannon and Kelly were killed if it hadn't been for you two," Gibbs added. "I owe you for that."
"So many memories," Neva sighed. She and Gibbs fell silent again for a long moment.
Gibbs spoke first. "Neva, I know you're not going to sleep much tonight, but if I were you, I'd go to bed and at least make an effort."
"I will," she promised. "I'll make sure the kids are settled down, and everybody else, and then I'll try."
After saying goodnight to Neva Bullard, the two agents walked across to the Pellegrini house. They had almost made it to their bedroom when Rosa Pellegrini pounced.
"I have cheesecake," she said in a come-hither voice.
Both protested that they were already well-stuffed but promised they would try the cheesecake the following day. Escaping her admiring attention, Gibbs and DiNozzo closed the door of the bedroom.
Tony couldn't stand it anymore. Even though he expected that Gibbs's response would be a curt "mind your own business," he had to ask.
"Shannon and Kelly?"
"My first wife and our daughter. They were murdered by a perp as revenge against me."
"Oh." Tony considered this surprising revelation for a minute.
"What happened to the perp?" he asked, pressing his luck a little more.
"Dead."
Before Tony could ask more, Gibbs pulled down the covers on his bed and crawled beneath them, leaving it to Tony's imagination to fill in the gaps in the story.
"Good night, DiNozzo," he said with finality.
"Good night, boss," Tony said, repressing a small sigh, and got into his own bed.
Story Notes:
Here's the challenge verbatim:
Challenge # 173 - Why Not? by PoPCoRn
Why not write a story about Gibbs having a teenage god daughter? The girl could have a father who is in the marines or something to that extent. Her father ends up being murdered and she ends up in the care of Gibbs. Of course the team tries to solve the murder.
Conditions/Restrictions:
No parings and if you decide to write on this please don't make the girl to be a teenage air head who's in to too much pink. In other words, don't make her too girly.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs and DiNozzo take a road trip to solve a crime.
Chapter End Notes:
Here's the challenge verbatim:
Challenge # 173 - Why Not? by PoPCoRn
Why not write a story about Gibbs having a teenage god daughter? The girl could have a father who is in the marines or something to that extent. Her father ends up being murdered and she ends up in the care of Gibbs. Of course the team tries to solve the murder.
Conditions/Restrictions:
No parings and if you decide to write on this please don't make the girl to be a teenage air head who's in to too much pink. In other words, don't make her too girly.
Challenge # 173 - Why Not? by PoPCoRn
Why not write a story about Gibbs having a teenage god daughter? The girl could have a father who is in the marines or something to that extent. Her father ends up being murdered and she ends up in the care of Gibbs. Of course the team tries to solve the murder.
Conditions/Restrictions:
No parings and if you decide to write on this please don't make the girl to be a teenage air head who's in to too much pink. In other words, don't make her too girly.