Chapter 4
Mac and Tony pulled up in the sedan outside Sarah McGee’s apartment. They stepped out into the sun and slammed the doors simultaneously. Mac slipped on a pair of sunglasses as Tony took the lead up to the entrance. “Can I help you?” the doorman asked, heaving himself out of his leather chair with difficulty. He was at least 70, with watery blue eyes and thin white hair. His crisp uniform was mismatched with the curved stature and monotone pitch.
“No, we’re fine.” Tony replied absently, inspecting the lobby.
“Do you have an appointment?” he asked the woman, who seemed to be the more grounded of the two.
“No, we have a federal warrant.” Mac shook the white paper and held up her ID for him to see.
“Come on Sciuto, we have work to do.” Tony’s voice echoed from his new position at the other end of the lobby. Mac walked backwards for a few paces, her eyes not leaving the doorman, before turning to face her destination of the elevator. “Floor 15 here we come.” Tony muttered to no one in particular before a ringing noise signified the closing of the partition between them and the lobby. There was also a slightly obese woman in the elevator, who seemed to be a little intimidated by the man and woman, one on either side of her, passing to lean against he back wall.
“Oh come on,” he started towards his companion. “How did you do it?”
“I am not telling.” She teased, with what the woman pictured, a mischievous grin.
“Please?” he begged.
“Fine then,” she inhaled. “I put it in the wooden leg.”
“Seriously?” he was shocked.
“Yup, they never look there, and it didn’t set off the metal detectors.”
“Genius.” She heard him clap her on the back.
“It was a close call though.” And they both saw the woman in front start to perspire. “Just like the time I had to clean up all that blood before the cops came.”
“Bleach is always a handy thing to have around.” He added with a nod. It seemed the woman’s floor could not come fast enough, as when the doors finally slid open, she ran out of there faster that Asafa Powell. As soon as she was out of earshot, Mac and Tony erupted into laughter. “That has made my day.” He shook his head.
“Scaring the locals is always fun.” Mac agreed as they passed floor 12.
“Next time, I want to be the psycho killer.” He pouted as they neared their destination.
“Fine, but I get to stop at Starbucks on the way back to the Navy Yard.” She raised her eyebrows.
“Deal.” He grasped her and hand shook it firmly, just as the elevator doors slid open at floor 15.
“Whoa.” Tony exclaimed as Mac picked the lock and let the door swing open.
“I know, déjà vu.” She shook her head.
“It looks exactly like McGee old place,”
“Only messier.” Mac finished for him as the entered. “So, lets get down and dirty.” She strapped on a pair of latex gloves and pulled out a small torch. They each walked along either side of the bookcase, picking up and flicking through the books.
“So, you never did tell me how that reunion went.” He told her, still checking over the books.
“Well…” came a muffled moan around the torch held between her teeth. She let out a sigh as she removed the cold meal object and looked at her partner through the bookcase. “I an into an arrestee’s son with a grudge, was in a ‘fight’ of sorts with Chris’ bitch of an ex, hung out with a girl who was in love with him who then tried to shoot me and I was assaulted by a pervert who wanted to screw me.” She said with a sarcastic smile.
“So just a normal day for you then?”
“Yup, pretty much.” She thumbed her way through a copy of ‘Nobody True’ by James Herbert. Mac heard a small metal object fall from the book and land on the laminate flooring with a quiet ding. “It’s a key.” She stated, mainly to herself.
“To what?” Tony asked, joining her side.
“How should I know?” she turned to face him with a glare. “Lemme see.” She muttered to herself, spinning around on the spot with a finger on each hand extended in a pointing motion. “There.” She stopped after 270 degrees. Mac was pointing to a painting on the wall, framed in varnished wood. It pictured 2 lovers dancing my moonlight in what appeared to be an Italian city. The brush strokes were fine and concentrated, giving the painting a realistic look. Mac grasped the frame on either side and gently lifted it from it’s home on the wall. As she expected, there was a small black safe built into the wall.
“Ah, the good old ‘safe behind the painting’ trick.” He ran his hand along the wall, meeting the edge of the box. “And you knew to look behind it. Mac, you watch way to many movies.” He shook his head in a joking motion.
“Oh you hypocrite!” she exclaimed. “And no I don’t. I am a music kinda gal.”
“Ok then, who sang ‘Turn the Page’?”
“Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band.” She answered quickly, practically before the had finished asking. “Don’t question me on my 70’s rock knowledge.” She smiled at him.
“Damn, you are good.”
“Say, here I am, on the road again. There I am, up on the stage.
Here I go, playing star again.
There I go, turn the page.” They sang quietly together as Mac slid the key into the lock and turned. The safe door involuntarily swung open a few inches and Mac placed her fingers in the gap, yanking it open.
“Ooh, look what I got.” She waved a binder in front of Tony. “I have her manuscript.” She told him with a cheeky grin.
“Well hopefully there is something in there that can help the case.” He stated, praying more than hoping.
“It is empty in here apart form that.” Mac told him, withdrawing her head from the cold box.
“Hey Mac, check out the laptop.” They bother walked over to the desk in the corner; Mac was still humming.
“Well, a little more high tech than her brother.” She laughed.
“Turn it on then.” Tony gestured. “Come on, you’re he geek out of us.”
“You don’t know how to turn it on do ya?”
“Of course I do!”
“Been looking at internet porn again DiNozzo?”
“You are sick minded Sciuto.”
“Did you just realize?” she smirked at him before turning on the computer. “This could take a while, it’s password protected.
“Cant you just dust for prints on the keyboard?”
“DiNozzo, are you that dim? It is a computer she would have used all the keys.” She said in a sympathetic tone while he grimaced at him own stupidity. “And I think it is you who have been watching too many movies. Entrapment much?”
“Why yes, yes I have.” He said in his best Sean Connery impression. “You know, he is Scottish, just like you.” He said cheerily as Mac buried her head in her hands.
“Yes Tony, I did you really should think before you speak. Just a theory.” Tony opened his mouth to retaliate when they both heard a key scraping the lock. Mac jumped up and rushed with her partner to the door, her on one side, him on the other. With their sigs drawn. They watched as bthe door was pushed open and a man entered the apartment. He was lanky and tall; around 6’ 4” with thick brown hair and hazel eyes. He held a paper grocery bag to his chest and almost dropped it when he saw the man and woman both holding a gun to his chest.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked puzzled.
“Who are you?” Mac answered his question with one of her own.
“Brad Evlon. My, uh, friends call me mosquito.” He stuttered his life story nervously, running the words together so it sounded more like : BradEvlonmyuhfriendscallmemosquito.
“Don’t use a canon to kill a mosquito.” Tony contributed.
“What?” brad’s voice jumped an octave.
“Confucius.” Mac told him, not solving the puzzle.
“Who are you?” he asked frantically.
“NCIS” Tony let on.
“Sarah’s brother is Director there.” His bewilderment did not ease up.
“What is your connection to Miss McGee?” she asked.
Brad looked between them and explained. “I am her fiancée.”
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