Chapter Two - Saturday
The following morning, freshly groomed, Gibbs and DiNozzo made their way at an early hour back to the Bullard residence, which now gave forth the odors of coffee and bacon. Again, the house was full of a variety of people, some of them the relatives who had shared dinner the previous evening and some anxious and grieving friends and neighbors stopping by to pay their respects. As Gibbs and DiNozzo tucked away their substantial meal, they fended off questions, explaining that until they talked to the local police department, they had no information on the investigation into Bob Bullard's death.
Finally, full of pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast, and strong coffee, they made their escape.
"Man, I'm going to have to keep running in the mornings if we stay here any longer," Tony commented. "I can't remember the last time I had such a big breakfast."
"Hope it isn't clogging your brain," Gibbs replied drily.
"No, not so far," Tony answered with a slight grin. "Any ideas come to mind about the case?"
"Nothing so far. You?"
Tony considered for a moment. "Mrs. Bullard may have been right to think he was dealing with a client. We'll need some information on his client list if the locals haven't already done that."
Gibbs said, "His partner's name is Jake Jacobs. They started the business together years ago, and as far as I know, they've always gotten along together pretty well, but we'll have to check that as well. I have a hunch the locals will probably consider him a prime suspect."
Tony commented, "I know my dad belonged to a lot of different civic groups. He said he got his best business from his contacts at Kiwanis."
Yeah," Gibbs replied. "Bob was pretty active in groups like that. Another thing to check."
As they headed to police headquarters on Marconi Boulevard, Gibbs noticed a traffic sign.
"The Scioto River," he pointed out. "I've always wondered if Abby knows about that."
"Hadn't thought about that," DiNozzo replied with a grin. "I'll tell her about it when we get back."
Gibbs had called the Columbus Police Department even before they left Washington. He had spoken to the chief about his desire to help find the murderer of his friend. The chief had himself been a friend of Bob Bullard's; he understood Gibbs's need and told him that as long as they had the proper credentials, Gibbs and his associate would be welcomed.
Upon their arrival, they presented their credentials and were escorted to the office of Chief Otis Quander.
"NCIS Special Agent Jethro Gibbs," Gibbs said by way of introduction. "And my senior field investigator, Tony DiNozzo."
"DiNozzo?" repeated the chief. "Any relation to the DiNozzo who sank a thirty foot buzzer beater in the last game of, let's see, the ninety-one season?"
"That would be me," Tony replied with an air of pride and pleasure at being remembered.
The chief turned to Gibbs. "One of the best damned college basketball games I've ever seen."
He turned back to DiNozzo. "You were voted conference MVP that year, weren't you?"
"Yes, sir," Tony said.
"I was a second-stringer at my school, but…. Well, it's an honor to meet you. I'm a big fan of OSU basketball, but I don't get many chances to meet the players. Unless we arrest them for something, of course." He paused. "So now you're an NCIS agent, are you?"
"Yes, sir. I always wanted to be a cop."
Gibbs watched with amusement at the easy way Tony was interacting with the older man, bonding as only members of the jockocracy can. He reflected that, although he had known that Tony was a successful athlete in both prep school and college, he hadn't really thought about how important this could be in a person's adult life. He knew instinctively that they would have an easier time participating in this investigation because of Tony's sports credentials, never mind that that had no real bearing on his abilities as a cop.
Gibbs let the conversation between his agent and the chief ramble on a couple of minutes more and then broke in. "Chief, I want to know why your guys made Neva Bullard go to the scene to identify her husband."
"They did?" Chief Quander said with surprise. "That's not standard procedure."
"She said the uniform that picked her up pulled Bob's head back by the hair so she could get a good look at his face."
"Geez! That's awful!" the chief exclaimed. "Why don't you guys go on over to the squad room. You're looking for Detective Anne Wojcewski. In the meantime, I'm gonna find out about this."
They found Detective Anne Wojcewski with her two subordinates, Mary Conway and Jess Widstrom, who were expecting them. Wojcewski led the party to a conference room, where she had laid out the documents collected so far in the case. Noting with satisfaction that the room had its own coffee machine, Gibbs helped himself to a cup, and they settled down to work
Wojcewski was a middle-aged woman of medium height with thick, grey-sprinkled brown hair cut in a no-nonsense bob. Her figure was stocky but looked firm. She wore a grey pantsuit with a plain white blouse under the jacket. Conway was younger with a mass of obviously dyed blonde hair and a somewhat coarse face. Gibbs noticed DiNozzo eye her speculatively for a moment, but then she gestured with her left hand, which bore a huge set of diamonds on the fourth finger. Widstrom was a huge, Nordic-looking man with shaggy blonde hair and eyes even bluer than Gibbs. The three detectives and the two federal agents studied each other intently for a moment.
"What do you know?" Wojcewski asked, shuffling and organizing the papers before her.
"Right now," Gibbs answered, "we only know the basics of the case. We aren't here to interfere in your case, but Bob Bullard was one of my oldest friends, and I feel obligated to him and his family to help in any way I can."
"And what about you, special agent DiNozzo?" Wojcewski inquired.
"Basically, I'm here with him," DiNozzo said, gesturing toward Gibbs.
Gibbs cut in. "DiNozzo is a graduate of OSU, so he knows the area. Plus he's an experienced police detective from before he joined NCIS, just about the best I've ever worked with."
DiNozzo grinned his thanks at his boss.
"Well," Wojcewski commented, "we like to think we have a pretty good department here, but no way am I going to refuse expert assistance if it's offered. Although I assume you're ready to take our lead?"
"Absolutely," Gibbs assured her.
For the next couple of hours Wojcewski and her team shared with the NCIS agents the evidence that had been collected to far. Because the telephone call to Bob Bullard had come in on the family's land line, they had so far been unable to trace it. The bullet that killed Bullard had gone clean through his skull, leaving a large, ragged exit wound, and shattering the passenger door window. Wojcewski had ordered a grid search of the area past the car, but the spent bullet had not yet been found, nor was any shell casing found.
"I suppose it's possible the perp policed both the casing and the bullet," Detective Wojcewski commented with a grimace.
"Either that, or the bullet ricocheted off in an odd direction," offered DiNozzo.
The medical examiner had not completed the autopsy. Gross examination of the victim's skull did not reveal any information about the bullet except its probable path—entry into the left temple and exit through the right side of the head, slightly lower than the entry wound, indicating the shooter had been standing at the time. A minute examination of the brain tissue was pending, in case the bullet might have left traces or fragments behind.
Conway and Widstrom had spent a substantial portion of the previous afternoon at the offices occupied by Bullard-Jacobs Insurance.
"They have four employees, all of whom have been there for ten years or more," Conway reported. "They're preparing a list of all the office's clients, along with information on policies, benefits, and so on. They're supposed to have a print-out ready by this afternoon."
"Good," Gibbs said. "What about Jake Jacobs? Did he and Bob get along? Any reason to consider him a suspect?"
"As far as we know, they got along like brothers," Conway answered. "He's really shaken up. He was in shock when he found out about Bob yesterday. He was going to close the office for several days, but we persuaded him he needed to stay there with his staff while we investigate, even if they don't do any business."
Wojcewski interjected, "We haven't eliminated him as a possible suspect, but it doesn't seem likely."
"I've known him ever since he and Bill opened the office, and they did seem to like each other and get along together pretty well," Gibbs told them. "I tend to agree he's not the best suspect, but I think you're right not to eliminate him yet."
"Does he have any ideas about any clients who might have a grudge against Bob?" Tony asked.
"Nope," answered Widstrom. "All we hear is that Bob Bullard was a great guy, universally well-liked."
"Well," Gibbs said, "that's kind of the guy I knew. But nobody goes through life without making an enemy here or there. We're just going to have to dig a little deeper. I can sure talk to his family, although right now they're saying the same thing. ‘Everybody liked him; he didn't have any enemies.'"
"What about the staff?" Tony interjected. "Any possible suspects there?"
"Well, like I said," Conway said, "they've all been there for years. They're all women, middle-aged and married, each one of them. Although you never know."
"I know," Gibbs said tersely. "Bob Bullard was not the kind of guy to fool around."
The other four looked down without comment, silently echoing Conway's thought that you never know.
Tony broke the silence. "Gibbs and I talked about his non-business contacts; maybe someone there had a grudge against him for some reason. Do you know what groups he belonged to?"
Widstrom picked up a computer disc from the pile of documents on the table. "We had one of the staff pull his contact list off his computer," he told them. "The list is meticulous. He made notes of exactly where and how he met each person, and his staff said he updated it almost daily. But there's over 2,000 names on the list, which is why we've asked for a separate list of his clients. We haven't really started contacting any of them."
Gibbs looked at DiNozzo, who got the hint. "If you can give me a phone, that's probably something I can start doing."
"How about later?" Wojcewski suggested. "I thought we could run down to the vehicle compound and check in on the forensic exam of his car. And then we can go out to the scene for you to have a look there."
As they entered the vehicle lab, DiNozzo had to smile at the sight of two forensic specialists working on Bob Bullard's car in their bright orange jump suits. Grinning broadly, he said to the Columbus people, "I'll bet our lab person is cuter than yours." This earned him a grin from Gibbs, and a chorus of "Oh, yeahs?" from Wojcewski and her team.
The senior lab tech, whose name seemed to be Clint and who was most definitely not goth, stopped his examination long enough to let Wojcewski know that all he and his associate had found were shards of glass from the broken window. There was nothing else special about the car. They were in the process of dusting the entire vehicle for prints in the probably forlorn hope that the murderer had touched it.
For the trip to the murder scene, the Columbus people took their own sedan, while Tony drove himself and Gibbs in their rented car. From the markers still at the site, it appeared that Bullard's car had been parked at the curb in front of some sort of industrial building set back from the street about 10 yards. There was no fence, just a graveled yard between the street and the outside wall of the building.
Yellow tape marked off the area, and colored chalk outlined the position the car had occupied. Two black-and-white squad cars were parked nearby, their uniformed occupants still working the grid search pattern, looking for the fatal bullet.
After Wojcewski introduced the NCIS agents, the entire group stood together to discuss the scene. DiNozzo was looking around, trying to make sense of the position of the various elements. He left the group, walking over to the façade of the building. Sighting from the position of Bob Bullard's car, he examined one section of the wall carefully. "Aha!" he shouted suddenly.
Calling over the rest of the group, he pointed out a dent in the wall. "Probably the impact point of the bullet. Looks like there's a little blood in there."
"But it should have fallen straight down," protested one of the uniforms. "We swept all along the base of the wall, and we didn't find it."
"It ricocheted off at an angle," Wojcewski speculated.
"But…" the uniform continued to protest.
Gibbs added, "If it sustained damage going through the victim's skull and the car window, it probably had an irregular shape when it hit the wall, and if it impacted on one of the irregular sides…."
Tony again had wandered off a little ways. Suddenly he bent down. "Here it is."
The Columbus officers looked at each other with surprise. "Does he always do that?" Conway asked.
"He's got 20/10 vision," Gibbs informed them with a touch of pride. "And I told you, he's one of the best investigators you'll ever meet."
One of the uniforms put down a marker while the other photographed the bullet. Then they carefully bagged it and handed it over to Wojcewski. Tony had put on gloves and was scraping fragments from the indentation in the wall into another bag.
"Find any tire tracks or footprints in the street?" Gibbs asked.
Wojcewski answered. "We took everything to the lab. We can check it all out when we go back and hand in the bullet."
Conway glanced at her watch. "It's getting on for noon. What say we take a break, and then go back to the office?"
Neither Gibbs nor DiNozzo was very hungry after the breakfast they'd had, but they agreed to join the others. They wound up at a diner that DiNozzo remembered from his student days. On their way there, he warned Gibbs, "It's a real greasy spoon, but they used to have home-made soup."
While the Columbus group chowed down on enormous hamburgers with fries, Gibbs and DiNozzo had large bowls of made-from-scratch vegetable soup that came with chunks of freshly baked bread. After they finished eating, the group exchanged war stories for a while before heading back to work.
Once in the office again, Wojcewski provided both of the NCIS officers with desks and phones. After printing out the list of Bob Bullard's contacts, they began the work of calling as many people on the list as possible.
The list was organized in a couple of different ways. In one arrangement, every contact was listed alphabetically. Another form of the list showed all the people who belonged in categories such as vendors, clients, members of civic organizations, members of church committees, etc. Gibbs began calling vendors; Tony called members of organizations. The first listing under organizations was the Columbus Development Council Advisory Board.
Calling the first name on the list, Tony found himself talking to one Rietta Chase.
"Yeah," she said in a southern drawl, "I know Bob—well, I knew him. I saw on the news last night someone murdered him."
"That's why I'm calling, ma'am," Tony told her. "I'm trying to get any information I can that might help us find out who killed him. So if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"You just ask away, mister," Ms. Chase said. "I liked Bob, unlike some other folks on the advisory board."
"What do you mean by that?" Tony asked.
"That there Development Council don't mean a thing," she replied. "Neither does the Advisory Board. But some of us agreed to serve on it because we thought we might be able to change some things."
"What kinds of things?"
"Now don't get me wrong," Ms. Chase answered. "Columbus is, generally speaking, a mighty fine city, but there's areas that could stand some improvement. It's s'posed to be the job of the Development Council to improve the community, and the Advisory Board is s'posed to identify problem areas that can be improved. But there's too many folk on the Council and the Board that's just in it for they own selves, ya know what I mean?"
"I guess so," Tony replied cautiously, not really understanding exactly what Rietta Chase meant.
"See, we still got a lotta residential areas in town that are what you call blighted," she explained. "Some of us, like Bob and me, wanted to put together some plans for fixing up those areas so's folks don't lose their homes. But some a the muckety-mucks on the council think we should just destroy those areas and put up shopping malls ‘n' stuff, ya know what I mean?"
Tony understood that. "And the residents would be moved out without any other place to go."
"You got that right, honey."
"And some people would stand to benefit financially from building shopping malls and stuff?"
Ms. Chase snorted. "Lotsa contractors on the council."
"Do you think someone might have, well, taken the disagreement to a higher level?" Tony asked Rietta.
"Wouldn't surprise me none," she responded.
"Could you tell me who the people were who opposed you and Bob?"
"Be easier for me to tell you who didn't."
Checking off the names Rietta gave him against the printout of Bullard's contact list, within five minutes Tony had the names of people who had stood with Bob Bullard. Six out of a total of twenty.
He continued calling names on the list. His next call was to a fellow named Dale, one of those Rietta said agreed with her and Bob. Dale not only confirmed Rietta's comments, but named two of the opposing people who he thought might be capable of murdering someone who disagreed with them. DiNozzo marked those names with second checks, but mused that with the disagreements among the members of the board, Dale might just be getting a little personal vengeance.
Gibbs meanwhile had quickly worked his way through the names of various vendors Bullard had dealt with in his business. All expressed the same thoughts: shock that he was murdered, sorrow that he was dead, and praise for his qualities as a man.
Wojcewski had received a fax of the separate client list from the insurance office. With a sigh Gibbs picked up it in one hand and the phone in the other.
At three o'clock Chief Quander appeared in the squad room to get an update on the case. The group again met in the conference room. Wojcewski projected on screen the lab report on the bullet and a magnified photo of the bullet itself. It had been deformed in its passage through Bullard's skull and the car window. It also had been hand molded of pure lead, no jacket. It was difficult to determine its caliber because of the deformation, but the lab thought it was a .357.
"Magnum," murmured the detectives in unison.
The bullet and the scrapings from the indentation it had caused in the wall of the building were coated with fragments of blood and brain tissue that, on gross examination, matched those of Bob Bullard, confirming that it was the fatal projectile.
The day before, as part of processing the scene, Widstrom had lifted prints of tire tracks and shoe soles near Bullard's car. The lab identified the shoes as size 10s of a common national brand of cross-trainers. The tire tracks were a somewhat less common brand, often used as original equipment on heavy, European cars.
The autopsy report indicated Bob had been killed at about 9:30 on Thursday evening, an hour and a half after he received the telephone call. Death had, of course, been instantaneous.
Chief Quander had found out that the officer who had called upon Neva Bullard the previous day was a rookie who became flustered from being involved in his first homicide investigation. "Apparently," the Chief said grimly, "he forgot his training, but he won't do that again and live to tell about it."
Tony told the group about his conversations with the members of the Advisory Board. As the Columbus detectives examined the list of its members, they focused on the same two names that Tony's informant Dale had mentioned.
Conway commented on Mike Malone. "He runs a restaurant out in Gehenna, near the airport. We're pretty sure he's heavy into prostitution. Hires girls as waitresses first, and then hires them out for sex."
"Not in our jurisdiction," the chief pointed out.
Gibbs asked, "How come he's on the Advisory Board? Isn't it limited to areas within the city?"
"No," Quander answered. "It covers the entire Metro area."
"So would Bob Bullard be into cleaning up prostitution?" Widstrom asked.
"Yeah, he would, so let's keep an eye on this Malone," suggested Gibbs.
Widstrom said, "Okay, next, Gus Kaikonia. He's been under suspicion for a long time. Even the FBI is interested in him."
"Why?" asked Gibbs.
Wojcewski continued. "He came to Columbus about twenty years ago. Started a little construction business that's grown and grown. He's bought out a lot of other construction companies, but we've heard stories that he strong arms companies into accepting his offers by threatening them. He also supposedly threatens his potential clients too, to get them to hire him, but his work isn't that great. Good enough to pass inspections, but not much more than that."
"And there are rumors that sometimes he bribes the inspectors," Quander added. "It's one of those situations, you know? We know he's a scumbag, but we can't ever get anything to hang on him."
Gibbs asked, "Any reason to believe he's killed anyone before now?"
"No," Widstrom replied. "Doesn't mean he hasn't; just means he's been real careful up to now."
"Plus, he's got a bunch a goons around him all the time," added the Chief. "They all look like ex-cons. Hell, we know some of ‘em are ex-cons."
There was a pause before DiNozzo stated, "Definitely another person of interest."
"Well," said the Chief, rising to his feet, "it's getting pretty late for a Saturday afternoon. Why don't you all go home for now? If you want to continue tomorrow, that'll be fine, but you're not required."
Gibbs and DiNozzo were grateful for the early dismissal, as they wanted to get back to the Bullard residence and check on developments there. As they pulled up in front of the house, they saw Lance shooting baskets with some other boys.
"Hey, Tony," Lance shouted. "Come play with us."
With a grin at Gibbs, Tony bounded out of the car and joined the group. With shouts of "Tony, over here" and "here, Tony," the young men raced to keep up with him. A number of adults, hearing the racket, emerged from the house to watch them play. Gibbs explained to them that Tony had been on the U's '91 championship team. Again, the question was asked, "He the DiNozzo that sank the buzzer beater?"
Gibbs found Neva standing on the porch, watching Tony and her sons play ball.
"Any news?" she asked, somewhat anxiously.
"DiNozzo!" Gibbs shouted. "Front and center."
With a loping run from the end of the driveway, DiNozzo jumped up and slam-dunked the ball into the basket, receiving applause from the boys and the onlookers.
"Gotta go, boys," he told them, then trotted over to Gibbs.
"Let's go out in the backyard," Neva suggested.
Once there, the two agents told her about the investigation. Gibbs was relieved to be able to assure her that Bob had died immediately, that he didn't suffer at all. She covered her eyes with her hands and took a long, shuddering breath as Gibbs patted her shoulder.
When she looked up, she told them she'd had a call indicating that Bob's body would be released to the family early the next morning. "I've already made arrangements with a funeral home and at our church," she said. "Bob wanted to be cremated, so we aren't having a funeral. We're going to have visitation tomorrow from five to eight at the funeral home, and the memorial service is going to be Monday morning at eleven at our church."
Gibbs reported that Chief Quander had investigated the awkward and insensitive way she had been forced to identify her husband's body. "The guy was a rookie. He's been reprimanded. Although that doesn't take away the pain he caused."
DiNozzo had some questions for Neva. "Did your husband ever have business with anybody out in Gehenna? Any clients out there, or any colleagues?"
"No," Neva replied, "not that I know of?"
"He was a member of the Advisory Board of the Columbus Development Council. Do you know anything about that?"
"Oh, yes," she said. "He'd been on it for about two years. He got involved because he used to write policies for some of the homeowners in the area, and he saw how run down some of those properties were. And when he started investigating, he found out how hard it was for the residents who were trying to get things done, trying to improve their property. But the Development Council was standing in the way. So he said, ‘If you can't beat ‘em, join ‘em,' and he got himself appointed."
"Did he ever talk about the Advisory Board's work?" asked Tony.
"Not in detail," she answered, "but I know it was very frustrating for him. There were a few people that agreed with his hope to make the Development Council work to help the residents, but there were other people opposed to them. Mostly developers and contractors, I believe."
Gibbs and DiNozzo looked at each other, agreeing wordlessly that the Advisory Board most likely would provide the reason Bob had to die.
Neva was called into the kitchen then to supervise arrangements for the evening meal.
"Do you have a suit with you, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.
"No," replied the younger agent. "I thought about calling Abs and having her go to my apartment to get one and then air express to me, but I think I'll just go shopping tomorrow. Wanna come with me?"
"Wish I had my dress blues," Gibbs said with his eyes on the ground. "Never even thought about it in the rush to leave D.C." He looked up at DiNozzo. "Yeah, I'll come with you.
Inside the house there was again a rabble of people, even more than the evening before, and all of them seemed to have brought dishes to share. Bowls of salad, steaming casseroles, and platters of vegetables and cold cuts covered the dining room table and several counters in the kitchen as well. There was an abundance of desserts as well. After Gibbs and DiNozzo had filled their plates, they found seats on the front porch, where they were joined by Lauren.
For several minutes the three of them ate in companionable silence. Gibbs asked Lauren, "So how did the interviews in Washington go?"
"Really well," she replied, using a chunk of home-made bread to wipe some baked beans from her plate.
"They offered me the internship I wanted. I'm going to be there for ten weeks."
"Well, I can tell you this, missy," Gibbs said in a mock stern voice. "You're going to be staying with me instead of in some cheap fleabag hotel."
Lauren giggled. "It wasn't a fleabag, Uncle Jethro. It was a Holiday Inn."
"Even so," he continued. "Seriously, sweetie, your dad would…" Jethro's voice caught ever so slightly before he went on. "Your dad would kill me if I didn't keep an eye on you for him."
"I know," the young woman replied, putting her hand on Gibbs's arm. "If you hadn't offered, I would have asked you if I could stay with you."
Tony piped up. "You can come over to NCIS, and I'll give you the guided tour."
"Not your job," Gibbs replied. "Mine."
Tony harrumphed in reply and asked, "So what does a plant biologist do?"
"There are lots of things to do, but I want to work on improving indigenous plants in places where famines occur. You know, it's not that there isn't enough food to feed everyone; it's a matter of distribution. If you can improve native plants so you don't have to import so much, you can improve diets, even in areas of chronic starvation."
"Are you going to go to the U?"
"Yeah, they have a really good agriculture program, with lots of research opportunities." She grinned with anticipatory pleasure.
In her turn, she asked DiNozzo about his time as a student.
"A lot of people laugh when I tell ‘em I majored in Phys. Ed.," he told her, "but it's really a pretty rigorous subject. Lots of directions you can go, including teaching and coaching, physical therapy, stuff like that."
"Is it true you were a basketball hero?" she asked with an impish grin.
"It's true," Tony replied with a mock modest sigh and cast-down eyes.
"Helped win a championship and a MVP in his senior year," Gibbs commented.
Tony's spirit warmed as an expression of respect appeared on the young woman's face. In turn, in the few hours he had known her, he had come to respect her as well. She was poised and focused, gracious and good-hearted for such a youngster. Pretty much like her mother. No wonder Gibbs was so fond of these people.
After Lauren left them to help with clean up, Gibbs and DiNozzo laid their plans for the following day. They would go to police headquarters in the morning to continue working the case. At lunchtime they would hit the mall to do their shopping. In the afternoon, they planned to call on Gus Kaikonia. They agreed that their respective gut instincts pointed to him as the best suspect. However, they agreed it would be best not to inform the Columbus PD people about that until it was a fait accompli. Then they would join the Bullard family for the visiting hours.
"We probably won't get much done on Monday," Gibbs speculated.
"Are we still gonna be here on Monday, boss?" inquired DiNozzo.
"We're gonna stay as long as it takes. I better call Director Shepard tomorrow." He thought for a moment. "I think we both have personal time coming to us. It's short notice, but she'll just have to like it or lump it. She can assign McGee and David to other cases if any come in."
Rosa Pellegrini appeared on the porch, a broad smile on her face. "Are you boys ready for your cheesecake?"
"Sure, Rosa," Gibbs told her.
She left but returned within seconds, bearing two plates with huge pieces of cheesecake on each. Inwardly groaning, the guys began eating with Rosa standing close by with a hopeful expression on her face and wringing her hands ever so slightly.
"Mmmnnnphmmm," said Gibbs, immediately echoed by Tony. After swallowing, Gibbs said, "That is excellent cheesecake, Rosa."
"Yes, definitely," Tony said around a huge mouthful of the treat. "Excellent."
Mrs. Pellegrini's hands had stilled, and the expression on her face turned to one of delight. "Oh, I'm so glad you like it," she trilled. "There's lots more at home. Just help yourselves whenever you like." As she re-entered the house, Gibbs spoke to Tony. "0530 tomorrow?"
"Definitely," replied Tony, using the side of his fork to scrape up every last morsel of cheesecake.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.