Down Among the Dead
Chapter 10
Marlee Klein approached the next stop on her rounds and paused to don the appropriate protective wear. Her patient was in isolation and after 'meeting' him on her last visit to the ward she knew he didn't need any more challenges in his fight to recover from his extensive and no-doubt painful injuries.
Properly clad, she showed her ID to the guard at the door and stepped into the room to check the monitors for his vital signs. His pulse was steady although a bit fast and his blood pressure had certainly improved, but his temperature was slowly increasing and she could see perspiration on his forehead, a bad sign when the doctors were worried about infection. Marlee grabbed a cooling cloth from the supply cabinet and carefully wiped the patient's face. She was pleased to see him turn his head away from her ministrations, another good sign that he was starting to regain consciousness.
She finished with the cooling cloth and had started to make some notes into his electronic chart when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to study her patient. To her surprise his undamaged eye started to open and he managed to turn his head to the side to stare at the far wall.
"Mr. McGee? Can you hear me?"
He slowly blinked a couple of times but did not turn to look at her.
"Mr. McGee?"
"Annie…"
His voice was so soft that she almost didn't hear his response. She moved into his line of sight and gave him her most comforting smile.
"No, I'm Marlee. Your nurse. You're in the hospital, Mr. McGee, but you're going to be just fine."
"Annie… I'm… sorry…"
His eye closed and she could tell he was asleep again, although she didn't think it was a deep or restful sleep. His face was pinched and tense, whether with physical or mental pain, Marlee wasn't sure. She added another note to his chart and put in a note for his doctor to check on him as soon as possible and that he needed stronger antibiotics to combat his rising fever.
Marlee took one last look at her patient, gazing at him in sympathy for a few moments before she continued on her rounds. No one deserved to be treated as he clearly had been, that was for certain. She only hoped the person who had done this to him would soon pay the piper.
XXX
"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!"
Tony jerked awake at the sound of Abby's voice and immediately jumped to his feet, now fully alert and no longer dozing at his desk. She ran into the bullpen, waving a stack of papers and a flash drive which she immediately plugged into Gibbs' computer.
"I found him, Gibbs! I found a DNA match!"
She quickly hit a few keys and a picture appeared on the screen showing a square-jawed man with a blonde crew cut, the collar of his uniform just visible at the bottom of the frame.
"Trooper Jason Henry Smith, assigned to the Hagerstown state police barracks. Lives in Downsville, and he owns a truck just like the one in the video." She clicked on another picture which showed a familiar face. "His father, Henry Emmett Smith, owns the trailer."
"That's the blacksmith we talked to...damn it. We didn't even think to check for the trailer!"
"That's good work, Abbs," Gibbs replied, ignoring Tony's outburst. "David, warrants. DiNozzo, find him. If he's on shift, tell them to bring him in and hold him until we get there."
"On it, Boss."
Tony heard Gibbs call Fornell as he made his own call to the Hagerstown barracks commander. It didn't take long for the call to connect, for which Tony was grateful. "Yes, this is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS. I'm trying to find Trooper Jason Smith, and...what?" He paused, his eyes widening as he listened to the man on the other end of the line. "OK. Don't do anything else until we get there. It's our headache now. You've got a problem with that? Take it up with my boss. Yes, Special Agent Gibbs." He noticed Gibbs staring at him. "In fact, why don't I let you talk to him right now." He held out the phone to Gibbs who walked over and took it, his expression clearly telling Tony how much trouble he was in.
"Gibbs. What?" He listened, his expression turning thunderous. "No, he's damn right it's our crime scene now. Because Smith is the prime suspect in our case. Do I sound like I'm kidding? Don't do anything until we get there!" He slammed down the phone and strode back to his desk to grab his gun and badge.
"What is going on?"
"Smith's dead. Looks like he had to make one last trip back to the crypt. Fell and broke his neck."
Ziva blinked in surprise before anger clouded her expression. "He got off easy. Way too easy."
"Got that right," growled Tony as he grabbed his bag and followed Gibbs to the elevator. Ziva soon joined them and they made the ride down to the basement in silence.
The trip to the crime scene wasn't as fast as it had been when they were hoping to find McGee, but it was close. A familiar car pulled up just as they arrived and Fornell climbed out, clearly agitated.
"What in the hell is going on, Gibbs? I've got the state police commander on my case, and-"
"We got a DNA match on the perp but it looks like he had a little accident. I told the state police we're taking over. They didn't take it well."
"Yeah, I guess not."
They headed towards the scene and were met by the barrack commander at the gate. Before he could start ranting Gibbs showed him their evidence, which caused the color to drain from the man's face.
"Dear God...I never...we never even suspected-"
"What happened here tonight?"
The commander turned to a young trooper who looked liked he'd rather be anywhere else. "Tell the agents what you know, Officer Parker."
Parker nodded nervously. "I was guarding the scene and J… Officer Smith stopped by to...see what was going on, I guess. He convinced me to let him check out the scene, and...when he didn't come back after twenty minutes I went looking for him."
"Did you see or hear anything else?"
"No. Officer Smith was the only person who came by, and...it was quiet."
"What about the Downings?"
"I checked," the commander replied. "Never left the house. The two FBI agents didn't see anything suspicious, either. We searched the area but there was nothing." He sighed. "Guess it was just an accident."
"Guess we'll find out."
"Fine. Our M.E. already authorized removal of...the body. We'll hand over what we have. Keep me in the loop, Agent Gibbs. I'll need all the help I can get in dealing with the fallout." He shook his head. "I still can't believe...I mean, Smith was the last person I would have suspected to have done such a thing."
"That's how he got away with it."
"Right."
"DiNozzo, David, you know what to do."
"On it, Boss."
It didn't take them long to process the scene and soon they back on the road. Gibbs had already called Ducky about transferring the body and he informed them he would take care of it. Two other teams were collecting Smith's truck and his father's trailer for Abby to examine in the hopes they would find something to connect him to the other girls and to McGee. Fornell promised to try and find any other possible connection between Smith and the suspected victims, while Gibbs' team would work on confirm their identities.
"Uh, Boss, since we're already in the area, would you mind…?"
Gibbs said nothing but guided the sedan towards the local hospital. When they arrived they hurried to Tim's room, only to find he was still in isolation and looked even worse than when they had left him. Gibbs flagged down a nurse to find out what was going on.
"He's developed a fever, likely due to infection setting in, so we've increased his antibiotics and we're trying to cool him down," the nurse, Marlee, informed them.
"Has he woken up at all?"
"He did regain consciousness for a few moments, and he said a few words, but that's all so far."
"What did he say?"
"He apologized to someone named... 'Annie', I think."
The group glanced at each other in surprise. "Could he have said 'Aimee'?" Gibbs asked.
"Maybe. He wasn't very loud, naturally, so it could have been Aimee. Why?"
"When can we talk to him?"
She huffed in annoyance. "When his temperature heads back towards normal levels and we have evidence the antibiotics are working. I would say at least 24 hours, probably longer."
"I need to talk to him. He might know something that can help us ID the victims in our case."
"I doubt he'd be able to tell you much in his current state."
"You don't know McGee."
"No, but I do know the limits of patients in my care."
"Let me talk to his doctor."
"He'll tell you the same thing." Gibbs just stared at her and she sighed. "Fine. I'll go call him." She headed towards the nurses' station as Gibbs returned his attention to McGee's room.
"Boss, are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, look at him. I don't think he'll be able to stay awake long enough to tell you anything."
"Yeah, but if he does have something to tell, do you really think he'll rest until he does?"
Tony sighed and shook his head. "No, probably not. What do you think he knows, Boss?"
"He knew the killer was a cop. Killer might have told him about the victims, one cop to another."
"It is pretty thin, Gibbs."
"Better than nothing, David."
The group watched their teammate in silence until the doctor arrived a few minutes later. After presenting the same arguments as the nurse concerning his patient and listening to Gibbs' rebuttal he finally agreed to allow Gibbs to visit McGee for ten minutes. After changing out of his street clothes and into scrubs and a face mask, Gibbs entered McGee's room and carefully made his way to his bedside. He allowed himself to study his injured agent for a moment, noting that McGee looked even worse up close. The cuts and bruises Gibbs could see stood out starkly against the younger man's deathly pale skin. His cracked lips had been tended to but still looked painful, and one eye remained swollen shut. Finally Gibbs decided to question his agent.
"McGee." The undamaged eye slowly opened and focused on Gibbs, who managed a smile when he met Tim's unsteady gaze. "How are you feeling?" McGee looked away but Gibbs could still read the pain in his expression. "You're going to be fine, Tim." Still he said nothing. "We found the bastard who did this to you. He's never going to hurt anyone again. We found him because of you, Tim. You did good."
"Couldn't...save...her… Them…"
"You made sure the killer was caught. That's important." Tim blinked slowly, but Gibbs wasn't sure if that was agreement or not. "Did he tell you anything? About the victims?" Tim didn't respond. "We don't know who all of them are yet. Can you help?"
"Annie...Fleming. She...was his...first." A tear slipped down his cheek. "They didn't… understand… what he did… to them."
"No, I'm sure they didn't Tim," Gibbs replied as he felt the anger he'd been trying to keep in check surge in his gut. He tamped it down again as he tried to coax more information from his agent. "What else did he tell you?"
"Alyssa Crawford...four months later. Aurora Ford...year and a half after...Alyssa." Another tear escaped and slid down his face, which Gibbs gently wiped away. "Ashlynn...Thomas...six months...later. Alexis...Burton...one year. Andrea...Harris...nine months. Aileen…" A soft sob escaped his throat. "Aimee…"
Gibbs gently cupped Tim's cheek. "It's OK, Tim. It's not your fault."
"Feels...like it is.
"It's not. And you helped us, Tim. We know who they are, now. We can make sure they get back to their families." He leaned down and looked Tim in the eye. "You did good."
"Should...have...killed...him...tried…to...not...strong...enough…"
"It's OK." Tim closed his eye and turned his head away from Gibbs. "Listen to me, McGee. You did what you could. Understand? You survived. That's important. All right?" Tim said nothing. "Now you work on getting better. That's an order."
"Yes...Boss…"
Gibbs stayed with Tim until he was sure he was asleep and the doctor informed him that his time was up. He quickly changed back into his street clothes and wrote down the information Tim had given him, all the time wishing he could bring Smith back to life so he could kill him ten times over. He re-joined Tony and Ziva outside of Tim's room and they turned to him with worried expressions.
"Is he OK?"
"He will be."
"Did he tell you anything?"
"Names of the victims, the ones we didn't already know, and time frames. We should be able to get IDs much faster now."
"What else did he tell you?" Ziva asked, her attention on McGee.
"Bastard told him what he did to those girls. McGee tried to kill him, but couldn't. That should tell you all you need to know."
"Oh God…"
"He thinks it is his fault, does he not?"
"Yeah, Ziva, he does." Gibbs met both their gazes. "He's going to need help getting through this."
"Of course, Boss."
"Yes, Gibbs. We will be there for him."
"Good. The doc says we can visit again in 24 hours. Let's put this case to bed by then."
"Yes, Boss."
XXX
With the information McGee had given them, they were able to obtain dental records and parental DNA for comparison fairly quickly, although they missed the twenty-four hour deadline by more than a few hours. All eight girls were identified and their parents were informed, which proved to be some of the hardest calls the team had had to make. All of the parents insisted on coming to NCIS in person to hear the results of Ducky's examination, an emotionally draining experience for everyone involved. One of the mother's words haunted Tony as he drove to the hospital to visit McGee.
"I thought knowing would help. It doesn't. Nothing does."
Tony tried to clear those thoughts from his head as he made his way to McGee's room. The younger man had finally been moved from isolation and out of the ICU to a private room, so Tony was hoping he could get McGee to talk, to help him work through what had happened. It was the least he could do, considering his own failings in finding his partner quickly.
When he walked into the room it appeared that McGee was asleep so he settled into one of the chairs next to the bed and took some time to study his partner. The swelling around his eye had gone down but McGee's face was still mottled with purple-green bruises, and while the skin beneath was not as pale as it has been, it was still several shades short of healthy. The cuts and abrasions were healing and did not look quite as painful, but Tony suspected that the younger man was still in a great deal of pain judging by the pinched look of his face and the creases in his forehead. He rose from his chair and stepped out into the hall to find a nurse, whom he questioned about Tim's pain medication levels. She informed him that McGee had refused pain relief, something that worried Tony more than he was willing to admit.
When he returned to McGee's room Tim was awake, staring blankly at the ceiling. Tony decided it was time to figure out what was going on in his partner's head.
"Hey, McGee. How are you feeling?" Tim said nothing. "Not good? Well, that's not surprising since you're refusing pain meds." Tim turned his head towards Tony but remained silent. "Can't get better if you're hurting all the time, buddy, so what gives?" Still nothing. "Are you punishing yourself? Thinking you could have done more? Well, join the club. We all feel like that." Tony sighed. "We passed by that damn cemetery. I saw the sign: Our Lady of the Angels. Mathew told me those girls were 'with the angels' and I didn't make the damn connection, so if you want to blame someone, blame me, all right?"
"No."
Thrilled that he had finally gotten some sort of response, Tony leaned over Tim's bed and looked him in the eye. "No? You don't want to blame me?"
"Not...your fault."
"Right, and it's not yours, either."
"I should...have done...more…"
"Look, I know how you feel, McGee, but-"
"You weren't...there. You don't know...all of it."
"I know Smith beat the ever-loving crap out of you. I know there was no way in hell, with how badly you were hurt, and how damn big he was, that you could have taken him out. It is not your fault."
"Not...what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
"You don't know...what it was like...for those girls. You don't know...their stories…"
"You're right, I don't. But you don't either, Tim. Not all of them. I'm sure that imagination of yours can fill in the blanks, but… Tim, on this job, we can't do that. We can't...identify with the victims. We'll never know the whole story, and frankly, in this case, I'm pretty sure we don't want to."
Tim gave him a sad, humorless smile. "You weren't there."
"No, I wasn't. I'm sorry this happened to you, McGee. You didn't deserve it, just like you don't deserve to be in pain now, OK? So I'm going to call the nurse and you're going to tell her to give you something to help. Got it?" McGee stared at him for a moment before finally nodding. "Good."
After Tony had called the nurse in and she gave McGee an analgesic he settled back in the chair next to McGee's bed.
"Better?" The pinched look finally left Tim's face and he nodded. "Good. Sorry I was rough on you, but… you need to get better, McGee. We all want you to get better." He gave McGee a weak grin. "I need my Probie." McGee didn't reply and closed his eyes, but Tony knew he wasn't asleep. "You have no idea what it was like when we all thought...when we thought you were gone for good. Nobody believed you'd killed yourself. I want you to know that. We all searched to try to find your...to try and find you, but after a couple of days…
"OK, I'll admit it. I started to give up. It just didn't look good for you, Tim, and then the state police found a body we thought might be you, and… And then the FBI showed up with their case… and this was pretty much the worst week of my life." He glanced at McGee, who looked like he might actually be asleep. "But I imagine yours was a lot worse, wasn't it?" McGee didn't reply. "Looks like you're down for the count. Get some rest, Tim. Get better. I meant it when I said we all need you back, OK? OK. Good. Glad we cleared that up."
Tony studied his partner to make sure he was sound asleep before he left the room and headed towards the parking lot. Once inside his car he sat in silence for several minutes before he turned the key in the ignition and fastened his seat belt. He backed the car out of it's space and started towards the exit, pausing a moment at the gate before he turned the car north and headed out of the city.
It didn't take him long to reach the old cemetery where crime scene tape still fluttered about the front gate, but thankfully there was no longer a guard and he was able to park by the main entrance. The sun was starting to set and he knew he didn't want to be here after dark so he hurried towards the back of the cemetery to the crypt, flashlight gripped tightly in one hand, just in case.
When he reached the stairs down to the crypt a dark stain at the bottom reminded him what had happened to the last person to come here alone and he carefully made his way down the steps to the door. The lock was gone so he pulled it open and stepped into the cool interior of the crypt. He shined his light on the spot where they had found McGee and winced at the still visible blood stains on the floor and the closest sarcophagus.
Tony stood in silence and scanned the room, remembering McGee's words: You weren't there. He tried to imagine what it must have been like for Tim, shut down here alone in the dark, injured and in pain, all with the knowledge of what was down here with him. He imagined being taunted by his attacker, a brutal murderer of children who had apparently bragged of his deeds to his most recent victim, and how it would have felt to know the fate that awaited him and the final victim when they had been shut in for the last time.
Tony shook his head. It was no wonder McGee was a little off after such an experience. He could only hope that after his injuries had healed and he had talked to someone, McGee would be able to get back to normal. As much as he hated to admit it, he really did miss the younger man's presence at work. He was looking forward to his return to the bullpen, whenever that might be.
Tony checked his watch and winced. It was getting late, and twilight was fast approaching. He really didn't want to be here alone at night. Tony turned to start back up the steps and froze as he realized that he had been wrong about one thing.
He wasn't alone.
TBC...