McGee stared at his computer screen. It confirmed what Abby had told him. Carson Taylor, at the ripe old age of nine, really had beaten Tony’s long standing record on the office movie trivia game. McGee blinked, and closed the game, shaking his head with a heavy sigh.
McGee sighed again. In all the time he’d been a troop leader for the junior rangers, he’d never noticed how much Carson had in common with Tony. But then, until they’d found out Carson was a ‘missing child’ and his father was involved in a cold murder case, McGee hadn’t spent that much time with him.
A few hours one on one with Carson and it was impossible to miss the fact that he was a miniature DiNozzo. The extensive knowledge of movie trivia. Movie posters on his bedroom wall. The Ferrari bed. His fondness for Jazz music. Girly magazines hidden under his mattress. Hitting on Abby. Virtually everything about Carson reminded everyone of Tony.
After six weeks without him around, it was still painful to be confronted with such a blatant reminder of their missing teammate and friend. It was like rubbing salt in an open would. And for as much as everyone liked Carson, seeing him leave, heading back to the loving arms of his family, was a relief.
McGee grimaced. It would be nice if they could do the same thing for Tony•and for themselves. It had taken only two days to put Carson’s world to right---and McGee hated that they hadn’t been able to do the same thing for themselves. It was maddening, and just a bit depressing.
McGee looked across the office to where Ziva was working on her computer. He often wondered what Tony’s note to her had said, but he was still too afraid of her to ask. His own note had been an odd blend of insult and compliment. That strange combination was rather typical of his relationship with Tony. He kept the American Pie mug safely out of harm’s way, although he hadn’t actually gone as far as Abby had with her present putting it under glass. He’d considered it though. Only the thought of Tony laughing at him for being so foolish kept him from acting on it.
McGee looked toward Tony’s empty desk. They were getting the hang of working without him---in terms of getting the job done---but McGee wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to Tony not being there. The office was too damn quiet without him. The cases were harder. And without Tony to defuse Gibbs’ temper things were a lot more tense. McGee would never say it aloud, but he even missed Tony’s teasing.
McGee looked at the case log he was supposed to be typing. It had been so weird to have Detective Collins ask about Tony. McGee had actually forgotten that Tony worked somewhere else. He’d known Tony had been a cop in a number of other places before coming to NCIS; Tony had certainly mentioned it often enough, but he’d been at NCIS for as long as McGee had known him. He was as much a permanent fixture in McGee’s mind as Gibbs. He never expected either to quit.
Gibbs quit but he hadn’t stayed gone. The four months he was in Mexico hadn’t really felt all that long to McGee. In hindsight, McGee realized that was in large part due to Tony. He’d never realized how much Tony had done to soften the blow of Gibbs being gone. Tony was there to look after them, to keep them focused, to do nearly everything Gibbs had done for them the way Gibbs did it most of the time. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone to be Tony for them. The closest they’d come to filling the gap was a nine year old kid, and McGee didn’t want to dwell on what that said about them.
McGee thought it was stupid, but there was no denying he’d been far more motivated to solve Carson’s case because of his similarity to Tony. He couldn’t let the kid down. It would be like failing Tony…again.
Tony hadn’t said so outright, but McGee could read between the lines. He’d fucked up somehow. He’d let Tony down. And while it might not have been the main reason Tony left, McGee was sure it was one of the reasons.
The sight of Collins being led away in hand cuffs made McGee smirk. Collins and Tony had worked together on cold cases, and the prick had the gall to hint around that the reason they hadn’t been solved was Tony’s fault. When he was dumb enough to make more blatant disparaging remarks, Ziva had blooded the bastard’s nose. Even before they’d found out Collins was dirty, McGee wished Ziva hadn’t shown so much restraint. The asshole definitely deserved more than the one hit she’d gotten in.
McGee took no small satisfaction in knowing Collins would be going to jail for a long time. It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.
“What have you got, McGee?”
McGee looked up, flinching at Gibbs’ harsh tone and close proximity. He hadn’t even realized the man was there. He frowned in confusion. The case was done. What was he supposed to have? “Boss?”
“On DiNozzo.” Gibbs said quietly, leaning against McGee’s desk. “What have you got?”
McGee bit his lower lip and did is best not to fidget. Gibbs asked him the same question at the end of every day. And every day the answer was the same…nothing.
The first thing he’d done when Gibbs ordered him to find Tony was check his cellphone. But the phone Tony had was government issue, and Tony had left it behind when he quit. One of the property clerks had answered his call, telling McGee the phone had been left with a note staying it was no longer needed and could be reissued to another agent. McGee had taken the phone, not surprised to find Tony had erased everything he’d added---games, ringtones, phone numbers---the phone was as clean as the first day it had been handed out.
Pulling Tony’s phone records, McGee had been genuinely astonished to find that every in coming call in the past six months had been job related---every call was either one of the team or the by-product of one of their cases. He expected calls from women, frat brothers, drinking buddies…hell, even a telemarketer, but there was nothing. It was then that McGee realized how diminished Tony’s social life had become.
Working at the office and undercover wouldn’t have left him much time for anything else. And McGee was aware that Tony hadn’t been dating since Jeanne left. He just hadn’t given it much thought. McGee was ashamed of himself for missing just how much of an affect the relationship had on Tony. It was more than just part of a case, and McGee felt like a heel for every teasing Tony about it.
Outgoing calls on Tony’s cell weren’t much different. Calls to the team or case related dominated, along with numbers for take out restaurants and delivery places.
His home phone had been nearly inactive, which McGee expected. Like the rest of the team, Tony’s cellphone had been his primary line. McGee wasn’t even sure why Tony bothered having a land line.
But it had given him a tenuous lead. There was one number on both the incoming and outgoing call list that appeared about once a month. The area code was for Houston, Texas. And Houston was where Tony had gone a few days before he quit. The number was unlisted and so far every effort McGee had made to find out more had been blocked.
It made him think whoever had the number was a government agent or in law enforcement of some kind. It wasn’t uncommon for access to be restricted if that were the case. McGee had tried calling the number from his cell and the office phone, but he’d been blocked each time. It was almost as though a restraining order had been put in place, or something similar that kept his calls from getting through. Abby had tried from her cellphone as well. She’d gotten further than McGee, getting a computerized voice on an answering machine. She’d left a message but, as far as McGee knew, no one had called back.
The next step had been to pull Tony’s financial records. They revealed a round trip plane tickets were the last thing he bought using his debit card. There was no information on where he’d stayed in Houston or what he’d done there since he hadn’t used credit for anything, at least so far as McGee could tell.
McGee was surprised to learn that Tony didn’t use credit much. In fact, Tony only had one credit card. After having his identity stolen not once but twice, McGee was beginning to see the wisdom in not having a lot of readily accessible credit. But it wasn’t something he’d ever thought a clothes horse like Tony, someone very into designer labels, would be willing or able to do.
It was only after he’d reviewed Tony’s spending habits that McGee realized the other man bought quality over quantity. He spent more per item, but bought less. McGee realized Tony’s extensive wardrobe had to be the byproduct of years of accumulation•not his living beyond his means. It made McGee a little embarrassed when realized his own spending spree after he’d sold his novel had been largely based on things Tony had said when it came to designer labels and where to shop. He’d spent more in a week than Tony had in six months.
Tony’s bank account was still open, but had been essentially inactive. He’d made a sizeable withdrawal the Monday he quit, but there was nothing else after that date. His last pay check was direct deposited two weeks after he’d turned in his resignation, but so far had remained untouched.
All Tony’s bills had been paid via automatic withdrawals from his account. And most of those had ceased with the termination of his lease on his apartment and when he cancelled most services. No more utility bills, no phone, no cable, no water, no rent. His landlord hadn’t even been upset that Tony was breaking his lease early since the owners of the building wanted to take it condo. He was already making plans to renovate Tony’s place to use it as a demo for future buyers.
Tony hadn’t filed any formal change of address with the Post Office. Not that it was really required. He’d only have to if he wanted things forwarded, and since all his bills were paid automatically, the only mail coming to his old address would be junk or magazines.
He hadn’t given a new address to the personnel department either. They only thing they would need to send him would be a W-2 for his taxes. That went to his accountant, and had ever since he started work at NCIS. The accountant hadn’t heard from Tony recently but said she didn’t expect to until the end of the year.
Putting out a BOLO on Tony’s car wasn’t even an option. Much to McGee’s chagrin he’d never given a thought to what Tony was driving since his Mustang had been blown up. He hadn’t even known what to put a BOLO on---and no one on the team knew either. They’d definitely dropped the ball on that one. He’d had to check the security footage of the parking lot to find out what Tony had been driving. It was a rental, and another dead end. He’d returned it the same way he had his cellphone.
“McGee.” Gibbs gave him a dark look, clearly impatient with the delay in getting an answer.
“Nothing new, Boss.” McGee resisted the urge to apologize. It was the same answer he’d been giving Gibbs for weeks, and it never got any easier.
Gibbs nodded once, and walked away, heading for the elevator. McGee tried to convince himself the slump he could see in the older man’s shoulders was his imagination. He never saw Gibbs look tired or disappointed---but he suspected what he was seeing was what it would look like.
Ziva got up and approached him. “No luck?”
McGee shook his head. “No.”
“He did not fall off the head of the world.”
“Face of the world.” McGee corrected quietly. It had been Tony’s place to point out Ziva’s mistakes, and it felt odd each and every time he did it.
“Of course.” She smiled tiredly. Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper as her dark eyes shifted to look at Tony’s empty desk. “I miss him.”
“We all do.”
Ducky asked every morning about McGee’s progress the way Gibbs asked every night. Abby had Tony’s picture up on every monitor in her lab. Even Palmer looked lost.
Ziva sighed and nodded slowly. She gave him an uncertain look that was at odds with her usual confident approach. McGee waited, watching her warily.
“Did he…did he tell you why…in the note he left you?”
McGee swallowed hard. “No.”
But researching Tony’s life trying to find him had given McGee some hints as to why Tony might have walked away. While Gibbs was gone, and after he came back, then that mess with Jeanne---they hadn’t exactly given him reason to want to stay.
“Did he say anything in your note?” McGee asked. He’d seen her face when she read what Tony wrote. She’d looked like it hurt.
“No, he did not tell me why he quit.” She pursed her lips, expression grim. “Do you think he told Gibbs?”
“Doesn’t seem like it.” If Gibbs knew why Tony left, he’d probably know where he went too.
“Tony should have talked to us.”
McGee nodded, but silently disagreed. Tony had talked to them; they just hadn’t heard what he had to say. All the things McGee had learned about Tony since he’d left were things he should have known a long time ago. They were things all of them would have known if they’d paid attention. Hindsight made a lot of things clear that McGee hadn’t even been aware of before. Tony had told them more by walking away than they’d ever heard when he spoke directly to them. McGee hoped he’d get a chance to tell Tony he finally got the message.
Author's Chapter Notes:
McGee searches for Tony
Chapter End Notes:
Small spoilers for the episode Lost and Found.