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Chapter 2: Steps

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The similarities between the two women in appearance were virtually nil, apart from ravaged state of their corpses. The depravity visited upon the delicate and supple flesh roiled and gave rise to the acidic juices in more than one stomach. Beautiful, blessed, young life had been snuffed out far too early. The joys of being alive, to be living, were wrestled savagely away and left a bleak and barren reminder that evil visited and took grand pleasures in rendering even the most virile to waste.

Ducky took a moment to himself as he slipped on the green length of cloth of the apron - the means of protection from the hazards of blood, bile, and other bodily fluids and fillings a human's body could offer up during his examinations - to breath deeply, letting the air fill his lungs to capacity. Many would believe that the quiet exhalation was cleansing, but to the elder Medical examiner there was nothing cleansing in the action. It was a reminder of the heavy burden he must bear in effort to find answers; the answers that would hopefully help.

Another breath, and he tied the strings deftly; his armor in tact. With usual grace and energy, Donald pushed himself from the confines of the staging area and quickly crossed the short distance to the stainless steel sinks, to soap and disinfect, making short work of both, and soon his hands were gloved.

"There we are my dear," he breathed out, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Knowledgeable hands gently worked along the delicate features of the woman's face. Tactile identification and logging, those fingers swept over skin making note of everything in their wake. "I am quite sorry that we would have to meet under such intolerable circumstances, but fear not. I shall be nothing if not respectful during our contact."

"Did you know that brown is considered the most dominate eye color in the world?" He peered into the hollow sockets and gave the corpse another, broader smile, while the tips of his fingers worked their way into the abyss. "Yes, brown is quite predominant, and in many communities dotting around the world, it is the among the only color seen." Carefully, he withdrew the exploring digits. "I can only guess, at this early stage, of your heritage, but I dare to believe you had the most beautiful brown eyes; perfectly attune to your pleasant features."

The Autopsy door's gentle 'swoosh' drew his attention for the briefest of moments; his young assistant had returned, bearing the record of Abigail's signature that preserved the chain of evidence. Momentarily, he felt a paternal pang of regret for the dear boy. Though he'd remained an utmost professional at the crime scene, the Scotsman had noted that the man had been unusually silent, almost withdrawn, during their return. Jimmy was such a gentle soul, with wit and spirit that immediately lent the elder examiner to accept him far more readily than at first even Ducky was willing to admit. But the boy was quite capable and had proven himself to be competent and worth the extra time spent nurturing his abilities. It hadn't been easy to replace Gerald, but Dr. Mallard knew he'd made the right decision to keep this youngster by his side.

"Abby seemed quite excited about the costume. Said something about all the jewelry being excellent places for finger prints and fluids." Jimmy, already in scrubs and quickly tucking himself into an apron, turned toward the sinks and smiled shyly at his mentor. "I hope she's right, but it's hard to imagine since there was very little of anything there in the costume itself."

Ducky spared a fond smile toward the ceiling in silent reference to their resident forensic specialist that was no doubt bouncing about the confines of her domain, pigtails and lab coat dancing about as she moved, her radio set at a decibel level that just barely remained below screeching, as she processed the evidence she'd received. "Well let us hope, Mr. Palmer, that the size of the outfit in question does yield something up to our dear Abigail, no matter how little of it there actually was."

"Of course, Doctor."

There was no telltale color creeping up the cream neck or staining his assistant's cheeks, Ducky noticed, nor had the young man dipped his head in embarrassment. He was doing much better with the gentle reprimands, respites, and general teasing lately. It heartened the seasoned medical examiner. Not one to dwell, he immediately turned his full attention back to conducting the preliminary, knowing full well that it was best to finish these things quickly so he could start on the autopsy itself. However, he never rushed. But goodness knew that Jethro would be along soon.

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Evidence, photographed and carefully bagged, filled most of the rear compartment of the NCIS van; the youngest member of Gibbs' team sitting back with it. Luckily, the ex-marine wasn't behind the wheel, so there wasn't any cause for alarm at the safety of McGee nor the evidence shifting unduly because of the excessive speeds Gibbs chose to drive at, not to mention the chances he took on the road. Tony was in the driver's seat and kept them moving at just barely over the normal speed limit.

No one spoke during the drive back to base, the cabin unusually somber, no doubt due to the last three hours of meticulously scouring nearly the entire park for evidence; the endless frustration and nearly fruitless interviewing of Rangers and residents alike, and the overall sense of failure that seemed to drift between the investigators. After all, this was the second body - the killer was still out there, and would most likely give them another body if they didn't move quickly.

The large metal door ground shut behind the van as it was pulled into the evidence garage, three agents poured out of the front, and one from the rear. The van's passenger-side door slammed shut with an audible 'THWACK'.

"McGee, DiNozzo! I want everything we have taken up to Abby; have her process it A-SAP. Top priority - paying particular attention to that wax. I want to know something by the time I get out of Autopsy. Kate, pull up the file on the first victim and start comparing and compiling. I also want you to start calling every costume and consignment shop in the area and track down that damned outfit our vic was wearing!"

"Uhh. . . Boss?" A hesitant voice called out from behind one of the back doors of the vehicle. "I'm not su. . ."

The ex-Gunny turned away from the door and glared at the round-faced agent through narrowed eyes. "I didn't ask for your input McGee. Do as you're told!" Gibbs spun around and stalked towards the elevator, pausing only briefly after his retina was scanned to toss a last order over his shoulder. "And if you're not sure then I suggest you get sure, quickly." The elevator doors closed cutting off any response the three agents may have tossed his way.

He wanted to reach over and slam his fist into the shining doors, but that'd get him nothing but a hurt hand. Silver met silver as Gibbs leaned wearily against the back of the elevator after pressing the button for Autopsy. Damn, if things hadn't gotten worse. He took a deep breath and straightened before doors opened, schooling his features before making his way into the morgue.

Ducky looked up briefly from the incision to acknowledge the ex-marine's entry. "Ah, there you are Jethro. I was wondering when you would return from the scene." The cut finished, he replaced the scalpel to the tray, and then pulled back the upper flap before opening the remaining two to the side. "Did you find anything useful?"

"Not much Duck; hoping you've got something for me. How'd our vic die?"

"Well I haven't finished the autopsy Jethro, as you can clearly see. But, I am hoping to support a theory I have." The medical examiner leaned back just enough to give the man a clear view inside the woman's chest cavity.

"And that would be what exactly?"

"I do believe our young Ensign died from shock. There wasn't enough blood around the orbits to indicate that she bled out, since I've noted that all other wounds on her body happened postmortem. Gravity, my dear friend, did the rest, to give us a nice blood pool just below her hanging form." Jimmy stood next to the Doctor and offered him a pair of bone cutters. "Thank you, Mr. Palmer."

Jethro allowed a half smile to form on his lips. "Ensign Duck? You got me an ID while I was out?"

A delighted gleam of self-satisfaction sparkled behind the elder man's glasses before being quashed to mere amusement. "Well, it was actually our dear Abigail that managed that feat, Jethro, but essentially yes." Snip-crack. Snip-crack. Snip-crack. Ducky paused in his task to lean towards the dead woman's face, smiling. "I'm pleased, under the circumstances, to introduce you to a good friend of mine, my dear. Special Agent Gibbs, I would like you to meet Ensign Margaret Louise McNandy."

"McNandy, huh?" The Gunny took a moment to study the lifeless features, only to frown. "Doesn't seem Irish to me."

That startled a chuckle from his friend. "Well, Heaven's no, I should think not. No, I do believe our young Ensign is of an Arabic descent. Abby will have more information for you, I'm sure. But if I were to guess I'd say she might . . ." The distinctive whoosh broke his concentration, but only for a moment, "be adopted." He shook his head and returned to task. "Do forgive Jethro, my dear; he's usually a rather genial fellow, once you've gotten to know him better."

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'In the Sea beyond us. In the city below.'

'How much farther must I guide you, before you let me go?'

Lyrics wafted from the Bose radio nestled in the inner sanctum of the laboratory, loud and jarring to anyone but those who liked the Industrial side of labeled gothic music. The chords today, however, weren't nearly as hard hitting as some of her usual musical choices. Definitely a heavy beat with grounding lyrics, but they were both mingled and delivered in an easier fashion than many of her other CD favorites stashed beside the radio.

Abby, herself, was swaying her hips in time with the beat and mouthing along with the words while she worked her forensic magic on the little faux gems and gold - they made up the glittering faucets of a scant costume that had been worn by the woman Ducky was currently working on.

Gibbs ignored the woman at work, and crossed the distance between the door to the radio and immediately silenced the blaring chords of Ego Likeness; a band he had no clue about. He could never understand how she could listen to that stuff, but he never really called her on it. She was damn good at her job and not once had she ever let him down, so he let her have her music; . .but not while he was in the lab. That's where he drew the line.

"Gibbs!" Abby spun on her three inch soles, pigtails flying on either side of her head. "That was the BEST part!"

He offered her an unapologetic smirk and shook his head, "Don't care Abs. What'cha got for me?"

She met the smirk with an impish grin of her own and wriggled in place. Gibbs had done wrong but she forgave easily, though as her eyes scanned his empty hands she thought better of it. "Considering Timmy just brought me three boxes of stuff to go through only a little while ago; not much." Abby moved from the small table where a few items of evidence, including the costume top she'd been working on, took up residence and headed towards her idle computer, pressing a few quick buttons to bring up what she did have.

A picture of a polished and pristine young woman in Navy Dress Blues and white cover, she wore a serious expression that seemed to accentuate her doe-like eyes, a deep brown, and soft full lips. She was definitely not Irish.

"That is Margaret Louise McNandy; twenty-two year old Electronics Technician assigned to the USS Kersarge. She earned an Associates degree in Computer Sciences from DeVry University at the tender age of Eighteen, and then went to Georgetown as an undergraduate where she graduated magnum cum laude with a Bachelor's in the same field." There was true appreciation and admiration in Abby's voice as she read the stats from McNandy's records. "She was one smart cookie. After she got her Bachelor's she immediately enlisted in the Navy. Not an impressive military career, but she worked hard and managed to get herself assigned to the Kersarge two months after training."

"Good work, Abs. Send that up to McGee along with any other records you pulled on her. Now, you got anything else?"

The pert tech balled her fists and placed them on either of her hips. She sighed and shook her head, "No. I've got to finish swabbing all, well, everything, and then get my mass-spec running to try and determine what some of the other stains I found on a few of the fake stones were, as well as work on identifying and placing about a dozen samples taken from the shoes McGee brought me. That, and I need to pull up the files from the other case and see if anything meshes."

The Agent wasn't happy but knew he couldn't expect much after such a short period of time. He was grateful for what she did manage to dig up on the victim, and would just have to be patient; though patience was not one of his strongest virtues. Gibbs nodded once, dropped a kiss on Abby's pale cheek, and headed for the door. "Call me when you've got something."