NCIS/TS Fic: The Cost of Divorce 1/?
The Cost of Divorce
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Jim/Blair: Established relationship. Jim/Gibbs: Past Relationship. Gibbs/DiNozzo pre-slash.
Summary: An NCIS agent, a Baltimore detective, a Sentinel, a Guide, a serial killer. What more do you need?
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations from the TV-shows "NCIS" and "The Sentinel". NCIS is created and owned by David P. Bellisarius and CBS. The Sentinel still belong to Paramount and Pet Fly. I'm just playing No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Beta'd by: Kyria and Annie... Any mistakes left are mine.
For: Ree/Triskellion... she knows why and thanks again
The blue sedan that screeched to a halt was obviously Government. The silver-haired man that exited the vehicle was military or ex-military. Either way, one look at the expression on the man's face had the two uniformed officers guarding the scene deciding that discretion was the better part of survival. One of the dead was Navy; thus Silver hair was likely a Navy cop, and dealing with someone who looked that pissed was way outside their pay scale. They'd let the detectives handle Silver Hair; they'd just make sure no one else wandered onto the scene.
Silver hair, also known as Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, senior case agent, NCIS, was not a happy man. He'd been planning on working on his boat; the first real break in over two weeks, when he'd been summarily sent to Baltimore. A dead lieutenant and all other teams already dealing with fresh cases meant that Gibbs, solo since Burley's re-assignment, was called in. Armed with only the sketchiest of details, no Stan or other probie to take his frustrations out on, and at least an hour's wait till his ME arrived meant he had no one to buffer him from the locals. Or, worse, buffer the locals from him.
Gibbs had to wonder where the locals were hiding. The NCIS agent had sighted only one cruiser parked around the corner and an unmarked parked out front. No forensics, no spectators, no media. If this was a wild goose chase, someone was going to be in for a world of hurt. Not waiting around until someone bothered to remember there was an active crime scene; Gibbs stormed the house like the marines had stormed Iwo Jima.
The hall was empty, but voices could be heard coming from a small living room off to the right. One look in the room and Gibbs felt like he'd been sucker-punched.
It wasn't the blood; he'd seen enough of that to last a lifetime, first as a Sniper, and then in his ongoing career as an NCIS agent provocateur/investigator.
It wasn't the victims; two deceased that he could see.
It wasn't, and this surprised him, the tall, blue-eyed man who was so obviously military, it almost hurt. No, what struck Gibbs was the other tall man in the room- brown-haired, hazel-eyed, and dressed to kill.
Twice, so far, in his life, Gibbs had had such a visceral reaction to another person. The first had been Shannon, gone but not forgotten. The second had been a tall, young, blue-eyed army ranger named Jim Ellison. Now, it seemed, the NCIS agent could add one more to the list; hazel eyes-name currently unknown.
Feelings aside, what was Jim Ellison doing at the crime scene? The last Gibbs had heard, Ellison was supposedly working as a detective out of Cascade, Washington State; not racing around Washington, DC, and its environs. 'Hazel eyes' supplied the answer in a smooth baritone; and it didn't please Gibbs one iota.
"Mr. Ellison, is it your habit to go busting down doors on the off chance an assault might be taking place?" 'Hazel eyes' looked at Jim Ellison, and didn't even flinch when the 'Ellison' stare was applied. "Or, were you the assault?"
Ah, so Ellison was a suspect. Wonderful. The piece de la resistance encompassing the entire day.
A very loud snicker from the third, living, occupant of the room --a shorter man with way too much curly hair to be hanging around with someone as uptight as Ellison-- quickly drew Gibbs attention. The snicker also drew the attention of both Ellison, and Hazel eyes.
"Don't go there, Chief. Don't even think about it," Ellison growled, looking down at short and curly.
Short and curl volleyed the glare with a smirk; not a flicker of fear evident in tone or posture. "I call them as I see them, Jim."
Say what? The 'Ellison' Gibbs remembered would have had the 'pup' up against the nearest wall; probably making some comment about hippy punk witch doctors and shaking him down for drugs or some such; short and curly sure looked the part. When the expected wall throwing failed to materialize, Gibbs decided it was time to step in and take control.
"Gibbs, NCIS." Three heads snapped to face him with almost comical speed. Gibbs decided to ignore the 'oh shit' he heard Ellison mutter.
"Tony DiNozzo, Baltimore PD." 'Hazel eyes' was finally identified. "What can I do for you, Agent Gibbs?"
"You can tell me about my Marine… and my case."
"Your Marine? Your case?" DiNozzo raked his eyes over Gibbs; the look said Fed, as in Fed up with interference. Gibbs thought the look particularly funny given the lack of scene control and protocol that the locals, as represented by one Tony DiNozzo, had in place.
"My Marine, Lt. Michelle Kirby, the female deceased. My case." Gibbs snapped, as he pointed at the woman sitting on the lounge; double-tapped to the head. "Also, given the sloppy way you and your colleagues seem to be being handling things, the sooner I take over, the better. My ME will be here shortly and until then I want you to go over everything that's been done so far." Good looking or not, Gibbs wasn't real impressed with the Baltimore locals. He'd arrived to find the crime scene unguarded. He'd gotten into the house and into the room without once being stopped. The fact that least two people who needed interviewing, separately, were still on scene, was just the icing on the cake. Gibbs was impressed, not; so it was his Marine, his case.
"Fuck." DiNozzo probably meant that invective to be sub vocal but Gibbs heard it, Ellison too, if the look on Ellison's face was anything to go by.
Consulting his note book, and wishing he still had Stan Burley with him at the moment Gibbs rattled off the facts he knew. "Lt. Michelle Kirby, IT specialist, new to the corp. Age 34, divorced, ex-husband currently stationed at Lejeune. Recently engaged to a Theodore Williams; homicide detective from Washington. Apparently someone heard gunshots and reported it to Baltimore PD. I assume that's where you come in, Detective DiNozzo. What I want to know is why you still have the suspects here and not in lockup, and where is your goddamn partner?"
"Suspects?!" That was Ellison.
"Ted Williams?" That was Short and Curly, totally ignoring Ellison.
"So, you knew him?" Gibbs aimed his level four glare at the smaller man.
Apparently Short and Curly hadn't recognized the male corpse, though with the face and chest all but obliterated as a result of what looked like two close range shot-gun blasts even the man's mother might have had difficulty recognizing him.
Interestingly, while completely un-fazed by the Gibbs glare, the smaller man suddenly looked ready to puke as he really looked at the corpse on the living room floor.
"What did he do to you, Ellison? Try a little poaching?" Gibbs had raised the 'suspect' assessment to possible, now that he knew that Ellison and company knew one of the victims; even if, as Abby would have said, the idea of Ellison being a homicide suspect was hinky.
"Poaching?" That was DiNozzo getting back into the game. "Suspects? Agent Gibbs, I think you may have the wrong end of the stick here. Detective Bunka is currently canvassing the neighbors. Detective Sandburg here," a nod to short and curly, "was the one who called in the shooting. He and Detective Ellison were just starting to give me their initial statements when you arrived," DiNozzo snarked back at Gibbs. "I'd say your people have done a pretty sloppy job passing on the relevant details."
Detective Sandburg? If Short and Curly was a Detective then someone, somewhere had really dropped their standards. Still, not happy having been caught flat footed -- and that new twit on call out was going to wear that when he got back to DC -- Gibbs backed down… slightly. The last thing he needed was to turn the supposed witness uncooperative; Morrow would have his guts for that. "I was told there'd been a report of gunshots. I have a deceased Marine, and you're questioning someone who looks like they could kill." That was the closest Gibbs was going towards apologizing and even then he nodded his head at Ellison.
DiNozzo didn't look exactly happy at the interference. Of course, one look at Ellison and anyone would admit that the man looked like he could, and probably had, kill. "Fine. Okay, Agent Gibbs, why don't we take this from the top?" DiNozzo made the peace offering but did not, however, indicate he was ready to relinquish control. "You've got a dead Marine, but I've got a dead civilian, so we'll be working this together, or you can have your Marine but I'm keeping my 'officer down'."
Great, the local had backbone. "Okay. How about we start with how you know Ted Williams?" Gibbs fired the question off at the 'supposed' Detective Sandburg.
"He's attending the Serial Profiling and Serious Offenders training conference with us." Sandburg looked up at Ellison, "You remember him, Jim. He's with the 23rd division. He wouldn't stop talking about his fiancée."
Gibbs snorted to himself; not only was Sandburg a detective but apparently he was being trained as a profiler. What the hell was a man who apparently couldn't look at a corpse without turning green doing being trained as a serious offender profiler? DiNozzo appeared to agree with his assessment as his professional mask slipped, just for a moment; though it was back in place quickly enough.
"Sandburg, breathe." Ellison commanded the man beside him before he turned and leveled the 'Ellison' glare at Gibbs. DiNozzo, showing he was no fool, quickly stepped out of the metaphorical firing line. "Hello, Gunny, long time, no see."
Gibbs had to smile as he watched Ellison forcibly turn his companion away from the corpse. "Gibbs, let me introduce me to my partner, Dr. Sandburg. Detective Sandburg, I'd like you to meet Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Two B's, the second one stands for bastard."
"You two know each other?" DiNozzo didn't look happy at the little fact. He looked even less happy as his question was ignored.
"It's just Gibbs now, Captain Ellison." Two could play at that game. "So, you're attending a course on Serious Offenders and Serial Profiling? Last I heard you were living the quiet life in Cascade."
"Quiet life?" Sandburg actually had the temerity to look at Gibbs as though Gibbs had swallowed a whale, whole. "Man, where are you getting your intel from?" Then, apparently recovering from his 'shock' at knowing one of the victims and before Gibbs could take offence Sandburg bounced forward to shake his hand, "Nice to meet you, Agent Gibbs. What say we postpone the rest of the military one-upmanship till after we've finished answering Detective DiNozzo's questions?"
"Chief," Ellison growled.
"Jim, Detectives DiNozzo and Bunka have a job to do; you remember what that's like. So how about we expedite the process, huh? It also looks like Agent Gibbs here has about as much patience as you, on a good day, so the sooner we start helping, the sooner we get cut loose." Then, turning to face DiNozzo, Sandburg continued speaking, "Now, Detective, as I was trying to say before we were interrupted. . ."
"Mr. Sandburg, this is my case now," Gibbs snapped, annoyed at being summarily ignored.
"That's Detective Sandburg, Mr. Gibbs, or Dr. Sandburg if you prefer, and I thought I'd finish giving my statement to Detective DiNozzo, seeing as he already has half of it. I had assumed that you would get a copy from him and then ask any further questions you deemed necessary. Of course Jim still hasn't given his statement yet. Want to interview him while I finish up with Detective DiNozzo?" The smile Sandburg sent his way was more than a little cocky; seemed like Ellison had actually partnered up with someone who had the balls to handle the ex-ranger.
Procedures said separate the witnesses; his gut told him that things would go a lot faster if both Ellison and Sandburg ran through things once. "I can wait, Dr. Sandburg. After all, you're not a detective here."
The implied insult didn't trouble Sandburg. Ellison, however, looked ready to rip him a new one. Of course, the fact that Gibbs would have given Ellison the courtesy of using the title apparently wasn't lost on anyone in the room.
DiNozzo, meanwhile, having watched the pissing contest volley back and forth, apparently decided he'd had enough. Showing that he had the brains to go along with the looks, DiNozzo 'restarted' his interview with Sandburg, allowing Gibbs to listen to the whole tale. "So, Detective Sandburg, or do you prefer Doctor Sandburg?" DiNozzo quirked an eyebrow to indicate that not only did he expect that question to be answered but that he also meant to use which ever title Sandburg preferred; a not so subtle dig at Gibbs. "As you seem to be the only other reasonable person in the room at the moment..."
"That's not too hard," Sandburg muttered, but Ellison definitely heard it.
"Chief." Again with the growl.
DiNozzo cheerfully ignored the by-play, speaking over Ellison's feline growl. "Would you mind telling me just what you and Detective Ellison were doing in the neighborhood?"
"Firstly, I'll answer to both, Detective DiNozzo, though Blair's easier."
"Then, call me Tony," DiNozzo smiled at his witness before a look of what might have been recognition flashed over DiNozzo's features. "Wait a minute, Dr Blair Sandburg? Author of 'The Not So Thin Blue Line'?" DiNozzo looked impressed.
Shit, with DiNozzo having placed the name, Gibbs was mortified. 'The Not So Thin Blue Line' was required reading at FLETC now; and, almost every other law enforcement academy in the States. That explained part of what Ellison was doing with someone who turned green at a crime scene. Even he'd put up with someone puking if they had that sort of insight; hell, it even explained what Ellison was doing at a Serial Profiling and Serious Offenders training conference. Ellison was likely attending as an adjunct to Sandburg; Sandburg was probably teaching parts of the course.
"Yep, that's me." Sandburg just shrugged his shoulders as though it was no big deal. Ellison however looked pleased as punch at having 'caught' Gunny Gibbs making a rookie mistake: never assume anything. That Gibbs had assumed Sandburg was a liability had been clearly written all over the ex-gunnery sergeant's normally impassive face.
"Anyway, Detective DiNozzo, Jim and I where taking advantage of a day off from the training and accreditation course to head up to Johns Hopkins. That's why we are in the neighborhood."
"And you heard shots? Over the traffic noise?" DiNozzo looked, and sounded, skeptical.
Skeptical was the right word. Though Gibbs remembered that trying to sneak up on Jim Ellison had always been difficult, if not impossible; and Gibbs had been known for being part cat so maybe Ellison's hearing was good enough. Yep, and Clinton knew nothing about Monica Lewinski's charms.
"Detective DiNozzo."
"Tony," DiNozzo interrupted.
"Okay, Tony, from the top; I was driving up North Charles Street, Jim was riding shotgun. We'd just passed East 21st and were approaching East 22nd when Jim pulled the wheel to the right into East 22nd saying he'd heard shots fired."
"And you always investigate shots fired, even when completely out of your jurisdiction?"
"I suppose you'd just drive by, Tony?" How Sandburg managed to make that a simple question and not an insult was a skill even Gibbs wished he had... sometimes.
"Point taken. So then what?"
"We pulled up in front this house. Jim said he heard a struggle still going on and went to help while I called 911."
Remembering what had remained of the front door through which he'd entered the single story house Gibbs had a fairly good idea of what the help had been. Door versus Ellison; Ellison one, door zero.
"And that was at?"
"Thirteen-thirty."
Almost an hour ago; Gibbs really had to wonder about the locals if he could beat Forensics, even with his driving, to the scene.
"Dispatch said they'd have a couple of cars here ASAP and I was to wait out the front," Sandburg continued explaining, unaware of the thoughts running through Gibbs' mind.
"You told them your partner had gone inside?"
"I was about to when I heard two shotgun blasts." Sandburg's face lost a bit of color as he said that; not that Gibbs could blame him. If his partner had just raced into a house moment before more shots were fired Gibbs would have been assuming the worst as well. "I dropped the phone and was heading for the front door when I heard breaking glass off to the right side of the house. I changed direction, assuming that it might be the 'perp' attempting to escape, which appears to have been the case. Anyway, I followed at a discreet distance."
Followed? Without checking on his partner? Gibbs wasn't real certain how he felt about that; you never left your partner out in the cold. Something of what he was thinking must have flashed across his face. That or Sandburg was hell on wheels at reading people.
"I knew Jim was okay." Sandburg snapped, angry at himself and the universe at large. Sandburg had known Jim was fine, or at least not hurt, but leaving Ellison vulnerable hadn't been easy. To have some 'Joe Friday' calling Sandburg on it didn't go down to well but how was he supposed to explain the link that existed between him and Ellison? 'I do voodoo would go down real well.'
"Chief?" Ellison stepped in verbally, well aware that he'd been under Blair's watchful eyes all the time his partner had been trailing the perp. But as Gibbs, and DiNozzo, weren't aware of their special link Ellison was forced to deflect Gibbs before his partner decided to show Gibbs exactly what he was made of. Ellison might have been an ex-ranger, but Blair was a practicing Guide and Shaman, with all the attendant powers. If Gibbs wanted to dance with Blair, he'd be putting his money on Blair; ex-marine or not.
DiNozzo wasn't too happy at the thought that Sandburg went off chasing possible perps without having checked in his partner. Rule one of partners; never leave them out in the cold. If Sandburg could do that, maybe he wasn't the man DiNozzo thought he might have been. Something in Ellison's attitude, however, indicated the big man had no problems with Blair's actions; looked like there was another story there to hunt out as well. However, rather than getting caught up in a side inquiry, DiNozzo fixed his mind firmly on getting the statement down. He'd revisit the 'safe' issue later. "You followed him where?"
"He ran east along 22nd street. Turned south down St Paul street then east along North Avenue. He turned south down Greenmount Avenue. I lost him when he entered the Green Mount Cemetery, though I saw him hiding a gun in a bush near the cemetery entrance." Sandburg's details were clear, concise, and given in a way that spoke of years in law enforcement.
"Do you think you could find the bush again?"
"I know which bush it was. I marked it and no one's going to touch it."
While DiNozzo looked pleased the same could not be said for Ellison. Something in Ellison's manner indicated that however Sandburg had marked the bush it was in a non-standard manner.
"So you know what he dropped then?"
"Double barreled shotgun, recently fired."
"Any reason that you didn't pick it up?"
"Apart from compromising forensic evidence, you mean?" Sandburg smiled, disarmingly, "I didn't think it was a good idea."
Again, Sandburg had to be talking in some form of code, given the way Ellison reacted. This time, however, DiNozzo noticed.
"You didn't think it was a good idea? Any particular reason?"
"I knew which bush it was in and I thought it best to get back to Jim before anyone else arrived at the primary scene."
"To get your stories straight?" DiNozzo had the balls to ask.
'Jim?' Gibbs could have sworn he heard Sandburg ask Ellison's permission for something.
"Sandburg tends to think of himself as my keeper," Ellison growled. "Occasionally I get a bit lost in examining a scene and I've been known to react badly when surprised. Sandburg was probably worried that I'd shoot one of your locals."
Reasonable answer. . . not. Gibbs' gut started screaming that there was more to the story, and it looked like DiNozzo was a cut above some of the 'Baltimore locals' Gibbs had worked with in the past. "And why would you have been examining the scene, Mr. Ellison? After all, you are way outside your jurisdiction."
"Habit. You know how it is, you walk onto a crime scene and you start to automatically notice things." Ellison wasn't happy being questioned, that was obvious. He was even less happy about the lack of a courtesy title.
Before any further questions could be asked, the group was interrupted by the arrival of a fattish, racing towards balding man, dressed like a Columbo reject.
"You still think this one's part of your 'pet' serial murder, DiNozzo? Two dead, your perp seen; doesn't sound like the others you think are linked?" The fat man commented derisively as he entered the lounge room. "And just who the hell are all these people?" The large man's hand swung to point at Gibbs and the two Cascade detectives as he suddenly realized he and DiNozzo had company.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Two
.
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Jim/Blair: Established relationship. Jim/Gibbs: Past Relationship. Gibbs/DiNozzo pre-slash.
Summary: An NCIS agent, a Baltimore detective, a Sentinel, a Guide, a serial killer. What more do you need?
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations from the TV-shows "NCIS" and "The Sentinel". NCIS is created and owned by David P. Bellisarius and CBS. The Sentinel still belong to Paramount and Pet Fly. I'm just playing No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Beta'd by: Kyria and Annie... Any mistakes left are mine.
For: Ree/Triskellion... she knows why and thanks again
The blue sedan that screeched to a halt was obviously Government. The silver-haired man that exited the vehicle was military or ex-military. Either way, one look at the expression on the man's face had the two uniformed officers guarding the scene deciding that discretion was the better part of survival. One of the dead was Navy; thus Silver hair was likely a Navy cop, and dealing with someone who looked that pissed was way outside their pay scale. They'd let the detectives handle Silver Hair; they'd just make sure no one else wandered onto the scene.
Silver hair, also known as Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, senior case agent, NCIS, was not a happy man. He'd been planning on working on his boat; the first real break in over two weeks, when he'd been summarily sent to Baltimore. A dead lieutenant and all other teams already dealing with fresh cases meant that Gibbs, solo since Burley's re-assignment, was called in. Armed with only the sketchiest of details, no Stan or other probie to take his frustrations out on, and at least an hour's wait till his ME arrived meant he had no one to buffer him from the locals. Or, worse, buffer the locals from him.
Gibbs had to wonder where the locals were hiding. The NCIS agent had sighted only one cruiser parked around the corner and an unmarked parked out front. No forensics, no spectators, no media. If this was a wild goose chase, someone was going to be in for a world of hurt. Not waiting around until someone bothered to remember there was an active crime scene; Gibbs stormed the house like the marines had stormed Iwo Jima.
The hall was empty, but voices could be heard coming from a small living room off to the right. One look in the room and Gibbs felt like he'd been sucker-punched.
It wasn't the blood; he'd seen enough of that to last a lifetime, first as a Sniper, and then in his ongoing career as an NCIS agent provocateur/investigator.
It wasn't the victims; two deceased that he could see.
It wasn't, and this surprised him, the tall, blue-eyed man who was so obviously military, it almost hurt. No, what struck Gibbs was the other tall man in the room- brown-haired, hazel-eyed, and dressed to kill.
Twice, so far, in his life, Gibbs had had such a visceral reaction to another person. The first had been Shannon, gone but not forgotten. The second had been a tall, young, blue-eyed army ranger named Jim Ellison. Now, it seemed, the NCIS agent could add one more to the list; hazel eyes-name currently unknown.
Feelings aside, what was Jim Ellison doing at the crime scene? The last Gibbs had heard, Ellison was supposedly working as a detective out of Cascade, Washington State; not racing around Washington, DC, and its environs. 'Hazel eyes' supplied the answer in a smooth baritone; and it didn't please Gibbs one iota.
"Mr. Ellison, is it your habit to go busting down doors on the off chance an assault might be taking place?" 'Hazel eyes' looked at Jim Ellison, and didn't even flinch when the 'Ellison' stare was applied. "Or, were you the assault?"
Ah, so Ellison was a suspect. Wonderful. The piece de la resistance encompassing the entire day.
A very loud snicker from the third, living, occupant of the room --a shorter man with way too much curly hair to be hanging around with someone as uptight as Ellison-- quickly drew Gibbs attention. The snicker also drew the attention of both Ellison, and Hazel eyes.
"Don't go there, Chief. Don't even think about it," Ellison growled, looking down at short and curly.
Short and curl volleyed the glare with a smirk; not a flicker of fear evident in tone or posture. "I call them as I see them, Jim."
Say what? The 'Ellison' Gibbs remembered would have had the 'pup' up against the nearest wall; probably making some comment about hippy punk witch doctors and shaking him down for drugs or some such; short and curly sure looked the part. When the expected wall throwing failed to materialize, Gibbs decided it was time to step in and take control.
"Gibbs, NCIS." Three heads snapped to face him with almost comical speed. Gibbs decided to ignore the 'oh shit' he heard Ellison mutter.
"Tony DiNozzo, Baltimore PD." 'Hazel eyes' was finally identified. "What can I do for you, Agent Gibbs?"
"You can tell me about my Marine… and my case."
"Your Marine? Your case?" DiNozzo raked his eyes over Gibbs; the look said Fed, as in Fed up with interference. Gibbs thought the look particularly funny given the lack of scene control and protocol that the locals, as represented by one Tony DiNozzo, had in place.
"My Marine, Lt. Michelle Kirby, the female deceased. My case." Gibbs snapped, as he pointed at the woman sitting on the lounge; double-tapped to the head. "Also, given the sloppy way you and your colleagues seem to be being handling things, the sooner I take over, the better. My ME will be here shortly and until then I want you to go over everything that's been done so far." Good looking or not, Gibbs wasn't real impressed with the Baltimore locals. He'd arrived to find the crime scene unguarded. He'd gotten into the house and into the room without once being stopped. The fact that least two people who needed interviewing, separately, were still on scene, was just the icing on the cake. Gibbs was impressed, not; so it was his Marine, his case.
"Fuck." DiNozzo probably meant that invective to be sub vocal but Gibbs heard it, Ellison too, if the look on Ellison's face was anything to go by.
Consulting his note book, and wishing he still had Stan Burley with him at the moment Gibbs rattled off the facts he knew. "Lt. Michelle Kirby, IT specialist, new to the corp. Age 34, divorced, ex-husband currently stationed at Lejeune. Recently engaged to a Theodore Williams; homicide detective from Washington. Apparently someone heard gunshots and reported it to Baltimore PD. I assume that's where you come in, Detective DiNozzo. What I want to know is why you still have the suspects here and not in lockup, and where is your goddamn partner?"
"Suspects?!" That was Ellison.
"Ted Williams?" That was Short and Curly, totally ignoring Ellison.
"So, you knew him?" Gibbs aimed his level four glare at the smaller man.
Apparently Short and Curly hadn't recognized the male corpse, though with the face and chest all but obliterated as a result of what looked like two close range shot-gun blasts even the man's mother might have had difficulty recognizing him.
Interestingly, while completely un-fazed by the Gibbs glare, the smaller man suddenly looked ready to puke as he really looked at the corpse on the living room floor.
"What did he do to you, Ellison? Try a little poaching?" Gibbs had raised the 'suspect' assessment to possible, now that he knew that Ellison and company knew one of the victims; even if, as Abby would have said, the idea of Ellison being a homicide suspect was hinky.
"Poaching?" That was DiNozzo getting back into the game. "Suspects? Agent Gibbs, I think you may have the wrong end of the stick here. Detective Bunka is currently canvassing the neighbors. Detective Sandburg here," a nod to short and curly, "was the one who called in the shooting. He and Detective Ellison were just starting to give me their initial statements when you arrived," DiNozzo snarked back at Gibbs. "I'd say your people have done a pretty sloppy job passing on the relevant details."
Detective Sandburg? If Short and Curly was a Detective then someone, somewhere had really dropped their standards. Still, not happy having been caught flat footed -- and that new twit on call out was going to wear that when he got back to DC -- Gibbs backed down… slightly. The last thing he needed was to turn the supposed witness uncooperative; Morrow would have his guts for that. "I was told there'd been a report of gunshots. I have a deceased Marine, and you're questioning someone who looks like they could kill." That was the closest Gibbs was going towards apologizing and even then he nodded his head at Ellison.
DiNozzo didn't look exactly happy at the interference. Of course, one look at Ellison and anyone would admit that the man looked like he could, and probably had, kill. "Fine. Okay, Agent Gibbs, why don't we take this from the top?" DiNozzo made the peace offering but did not, however, indicate he was ready to relinquish control. "You've got a dead Marine, but I've got a dead civilian, so we'll be working this together, or you can have your Marine but I'm keeping my 'officer down'."
Great, the local had backbone. "Okay. How about we start with how you know Ted Williams?" Gibbs fired the question off at the 'supposed' Detective Sandburg.
"He's attending the Serial Profiling and Serious Offenders training conference with us." Sandburg looked up at Ellison, "You remember him, Jim. He's with the 23rd division. He wouldn't stop talking about his fiancée."
Gibbs snorted to himself; not only was Sandburg a detective but apparently he was being trained as a profiler. What the hell was a man who apparently couldn't look at a corpse without turning green doing being trained as a serious offender profiler? DiNozzo appeared to agree with his assessment as his professional mask slipped, just for a moment; though it was back in place quickly enough.
"Sandburg, breathe." Ellison commanded the man beside him before he turned and leveled the 'Ellison' glare at Gibbs. DiNozzo, showing he was no fool, quickly stepped out of the metaphorical firing line. "Hello, Gunny, long time, no see."
Gibbs had to smile as he watched Ellison forcibly turn his companion away from the corpse. "Gibbs, let me introduce me to my partner, Dr. Sandburg. Detective Sandburg, I'd like you to meet Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Two B's, the second one stands for bastard."
"You two know each other?" DiNozzo didn't look happy at the little fact. He looked even less happy as his question was ignored.
"It's just Gibbs now, Captain Ellison." Two could play at that game. "So, you're attending a course on Serious Offenders and Serial Profiling? Last I heard you were living the quiet life in Cascade."
"Quiet life?" Sandburg actually had the temerity to look at Gibbs as though Gibbs had swallowed a whale, whole. "Man, where are you getting your intel from?" Then, apparently recovering from his 'shock' at knowing one of the victims and before Gibbs could take offence Sandburg bounced forward to shake his hand, "Nice to meet you, Agent Gibbs. What say we postpone the rest of the military one-upmanship till after we've finished answering Detective DiNozzo's questions?"
"Chief," Ellison growled.
"Jim, Detectives DiNozzo and Bunka have a job to do; you remember what that's like. So how about we expedite the process, huh? It also looks like Agent Gibbs here has about as much patience as you, on a good day, so the sooner we start helping, the sooner we get cut loose." Then, turning to face DiNozzo, Sandburg continued speaking, "Now, Detective, as I was trying to say before we were interrupted. . ."
"Mr. Sandburg, this is my case now," Gibbs snapped, annoyed at being summarily ignored.
"That's Detective Sandburg, Mr. Gibbs, or Dr. Sandburg if you prefer, and I thought I'd finish giving my statement to Detective DiNozzo, seeing as he already has half of it. I had assumed that you would get a copy from him and then ask any further questions you deemed necessary. Of course Jim still hasn't given his statement yet. Want to interview him while I finish up with Detective DiNozzo?" The smile Sandburg sent his way was more than a little cocky; seemed like Ellison had actually partnered up with someone who had the balls to handle the ex-ranger.
Procedures said separate the witnesses; his gut told him that things would go a lot faster if both Ellison and Sandburg ran through things once. "I can wait, Dr. Sandburg. After all, you're not a detective here."
The implied insult didn't trouble Sandburg. Ellison, however, looked ready to rip him a new one. Of course, the fact that Gibbs would have given Ellison the courtesy of using the title apparently wasn't lost on anyone in the room.
DiNozzo, meanwhile, having watched the pissing contest volley back and forth, apparently decided he'd had enough. Showing that he had the brains to go along with the looks, DiNozzo 'restarted' his interview with Sandburg, allowing Gibbs to listen to the whole tale. "So, Detective Sandburg, or do you prefer Doctor Sandburg?" DiNozzo quirked an eyebrow to indicate that not only did he expect that question to be answered but that he also meant to use which ever title Sandburg preferred; a not so subtle dig at Gibbs. "As you seem to be the only other reasonable person in the room at the moment..."
"That's not too hard," Sandburg muttered, but Ellison definitely heard it.
"Chief." Again with the growl.
DiNozzo cheerfully ignored the by-play, speaking over Ellison's feline growl. "Would you mind telling me just what you and Detective Ellison were doing in the neighborhood?"
"Firstly, I'll answer to both, Detective DiNozzo, though Blair's easier."
"Then, call me Tony," DiNozzo smiled at his witness before a look of what might have been recognition flashed over DiNozzo's features. "Wait a minute, Dr Blair Sandburg? Author of 'The Not So Thin Blue Line'?" DiNozzo looked impressed.
Shit, with DiNozzo having placed the name, Gibbs was mortified. 'The Not So Thin Blue Line' was required reading at FLETC now; and, almost every other law enforcement academy in the States. That explained part of what Ellison was doing with someone who turned green at a crime scene. Even he'd put up with someone puking if they had that sort of insight; hell, it even explained what Ellison was doing at a Serial Profiling and Serious Offenders training conference. Ellison was likely attending as an adjunct to Sandburg; Sandburg was probably teaching parts of the course.
"Yep, that's me." Sandburg just shrugged his shoulders as though it was no big deal. Ellison however looked pleased as punch at having 'caught' Gunny Gibbs making a rookie mistake: never assume anything. That Gibbs had assumed Sandburg was a liability had been clearly written all over the ex-gunnery sergeant's normally impassive face.
"Anyway, Detective DiNozzo, Jim and I where taking advantage of a day off from the training and accreditation course to head up to Johns Hopkins. That's why we are in the neighborhood."
"And you heard shots? Over the traffic noise?" DiNozzo looked, and sounded, skeptical.
Skeptical was the right word. Though Gibbs remembered that trying to sneak up on Jim Ellison had always been difficult, if not impossible; and Gibbs had been known for being part cat so maybe Ellison's hearing was good enough. Yep, and Clinton knew nothing about Monica Lewinski's charms.
"Detective DiNozzo."
"Tony," DiNozzo interrupted.
"Okay, Tony, from the top; I was driving up North Charles Street, Jim was riding shotgun. We'd just passed East 21st and were approaching East 22nd when Jim pulled the wheel to the right into East 22nd saying he'd heard shots fired."
"And you always investigate shots fired, even when completely out of your jurisdiction?"
"I suppose you'd just drive by, Tony?" How Sandburg managed to make that a simple question and not an insult was a skill even Gibbs wished he had... sometimes.
"Point taken. So then what?"
"We pulled up in front this house. Jim said he heard a struggle still going on and went to help while I called 911."
Remembering what had remained of the front door through which he'd entered the single story house Gibbs had a fairly good idea of what the help had been. Door versus Ellison; Ellison one, door zero.
"And that was at?"
"Thirteen-thirty."
Almost an hour ago; Gibbs really had to wonder about the locals if he could beat Forensics, even with his driving, to the scene.
"Dispatch said they'd have a couple of cars here ASAP and I was to wait out the front," Sandburg continued explaining, unaware of the thoughts running through Gibbs' mind.
"You told them your partner had gone inside?"
"I was about to when I heard two shotgun blasts." Sandburg's face lost a bit of color as he said that; not that Gibbs could blame him. If his partner had just raced into a house moment before more shots were fired Gibbs would have been assuming the worst as well. "I dropped the phone and was heading for the front door when I heard breaking glass off to the right side of the house. I changed direction, assuming that it might be the 'perp' attempting to escape, which appears to have been the case. Anyway, I followed at a discreet distance."
Followed? Without checking on his partner? Gibbs wasn't real certain how he felt about that; you never left your partner out in the cold. Something of what he was thinking must have flashed across his face. That or Sandburg was hell on wheels at reading people.
"I knew Jim was okay." Sandburg snapped, angry at himself and the universe at large. Sandburg had known Jim was fine, or at least not hurt, but leaving Ellison vulnerable hadn't been easy. To have some 'Joe Friday' calling Sandburg on it didn't go down to well but how was he supposed to explain the link that existed between him and Ellison? 'I do voodoo would go down real well.'
"Chief?" Ellison stepped in verbally, well aware that he'd been under Blair's watchful eyes all the time his partner had been trailing the perp. But as Gibbs, and DiNozzo, weren't aware of their special link Ellison was forced to deflect Gibbs before his partner decided to show Gibbs exactly what he was made of. Ellison might have been an ex-ranger, but Blair was a practicing Guide and Shaman, with all the attendant powers. If Gibbs wanted to dance with Blair, he'd be putting his money on Blair; ex-marine or not.
DiNozzo wasn't too happy at the thought that Sandburg went off chasing possible perps without having checked in his partner. Rule one of partners; never leave them out in the cold. If Sandburg could do that, maybe he wasn't the man DiNozzo thought he might have been. Something in Ellison's attitude, however, indicated the big man had no problems with Blair's actions; looked like there was another story there to hunt out as well. However, rather than getting caught up in a side inquiry, DiNozzo fixed his mind firmly on getting the statement down. He'd revisit the 'safe' issue later. "You followed him where?"
"He ran east along 22nd street. Turned south down St Paul street then east along North Avenue. He turned south down Greenmount Avenue. I lost him when he entered the Green Mount Cemetery, though I saw him hiding a gun in a bush near the cemetery entrance." Sandburg's details were clear, concise, and given in a way that spoke of years in law enforcement.
"Do you think you could find the bush again?"
"I know which bush it was. I marked it and no one's going to touch it."
While DiNozzo looked pleased the same could not be said for Ellison. Something in Ellison's manner indicated that however Sandburg had marked the bush it was in a non-standard manner.
"So you know what he dropped then?"
"Double barreled shotgun, recently fired."
"Any reason that you didn't pick it up?"
"Apart from compromising forensic evidence, you mean?" Sandburg smiled, disarmingly, "I didn't think it was a good idea."
Again, Sandburg had to be talking in some form of code, given the way Ellison reacted. This time, however, DiNozzo noticed.
"You didn't think it was a good idea? Any particular reason?"
"I knew which bush it was in and I thought it best to get back to Jim before anyone else arrived at the primary scene."
"To get your stories straight?" DiNozzo had the balls to ask.
'Jim?' Gibbs could have sworn he heard Sandburg ask Ellison's permission for something.
"Sandburg tends to think of himself as my keeper," Ellison growled. "Occasionally I get a bit lost in examining a scene and I've been known to react badly when surprised. Sandburg was probably worried that I'd shoot one of your locals."
Reasonable answer. . . not. Gibbs' gut started screaming that there was more to the story, and it looked like DiNozzo was a cut above some of the 'Baltimore locals' Gibbs had worked with in the past. "And why would you have been examining the scene, Mr. Ellison? After all, you are way outside your jurisdiction."
"Habit. You know how it is, you walk onto a crime scene and you start to automatically notice things." Ellison wasn't happy being questioned, that was obvious. He was even less happy about the lack of a courtesy title.
Before any further questions could be asked, the group was interrupted by the arrival of a fattish, racing towards balding man, dressed like a Columbo reject.
"You still think this one's part of your 'pet' serial murder, DiNozzo? Two dead, your perp seen; doesn't sound like the others you think are linked?" The fat man commented derisively as he entered the lounge room. "And just who the hell are all these people?" The large man's hand swung to point at Gibbs and the two Cascade detectives as he suddenly realized he and DiNozzo had company.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Two
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