Gibbs wakes up to his cell ringing and an empty bed Monday morning. Having slept badly and knowing an early call is bad news he growls, “Gibbs.”
“I can hear how well you slept.”
“Cute is probably not your best bet right now Tony.”
“We’ve got a dead Private First Class at the Palomar Hotel.”
“Ducky on his way?”
“He’ll beat us there.”
“Any details?”
“PFC Pete Bering just arrived in town on leave. He did not have a reservation or a room at the Palomar and was found in room 209, registered to a Michelle Livingston who was not present when the maid found the body. Metro found his military ID on the night table and contacted us. The only note I’ve got on the condition of the body is there was a good deal of blood in the room.”
“You at the office?”
“Nope. Just rolled out of my own cold bed. But I should warn you, if your next question is what am I wearing I have put jeans on.”
“Take your time, I’ll pick you up on my way. I’ll be there in twenty-five. Get Ziva and McGee moving.”
“I’ll make you a pot of coffee to go if you come up and give me my good morning kiss.”
“Sounds like a deal. See you in a while.” He grins as he hangs up, once again highly amused that Tony can always make him smile no matter his mood.
When he arrives at Tony’s he lets himself in and pads silently up behind the younger man, intent on making him jump.
Tony however surprises him instead, turning easily and smiling at him, “Good morning Jethro.” Upon seeing his questioning look Tony grins, “The door squeaked when you shut it. Now are you going to give me my good morning kiss or do I have to hold your coffee hostage?”
Faced with an offer like that, one which meets his own needs as well especially, who is he to refuse? One economical movement has them pressed together tightly and with a hand in Tony’s hair Gibbs begins reacquainting himself with the taste and feel of this lover. Intellectually he knows they’ve been apart less than a day but the long, restless night makes it seem like longer. When he pulls back from the kiss he has a handful of Tony’s ass and a powerful need to breath. Still he manages a welcoming smile, “Good morning Tony.”
“’Morning Jethro. Your coffee should be ready.”
“And if I don’t want coffee?”
“You don’t have time for any other pick-me-up so I suggest you drink your coffee.”
Gibbs sighs, “It’s going to be a long day.”
“Always is when we start it with a dead kid boss.”
“You ready to go?”
“Almost. Stand here with me for a minute then I’ll pull on some shoes and we can go.”
“I can definitely do that. How long did you give the others?”
“They’re supposed to be there in fifteen minutes but unless they’ve both been taking quick change lessons from superman we should still beat them by about five minutes. Ducky will probably arrive there any minute now.”
“We should get going.”
“On it boss.” Tony waits a few beats, “As soon as you let me go.”
After another moment’s stillness they start moving again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Walking into the scene undoes the tension release that their momentary break had afforded Gibbs. The boy is sprawled across the bed with one arm wrapped around the pillow looking for all the world as if he’s merely asleep. All except the entrance wound in his back and the puddle of blood below him that is. It’s almost a relief when Ducky rolls him over and breaks the illusion.
The search of the room yields more questions than answers. The only thing they recover in the room that doesn’t belong to either their dead PFC or the hotel itself is a pair of hot pink panties hanging from the head board.
“Ziva, question the guests in the neighboring suites. McGee go down to the front desk and get a description of Michelle Livingston and any security footage you can lay hands on. DiNozzo, get in touch with your contact at metro. See if they’ve had anything similar recently. If not start digging into the PFC’s life.”
A quick chorus of “On it Boss,” leaves Gibbs in the room alone with Ducky, Palmer and the body.
“Anything other than the obvious Duck?”
“There’s some fairly extensive bruising around his left leg and his left big toe is broken. Initial evidence suggests he was asleep and in the position in which we found him when he was shot. No one tried to perform CPR or take any other life saving measures.”
“Which points to his bedmate as his killer.”
“That’s one way to interpret the evidence,” Ducky concedes.
“Yes, I know it’s possible the killer took whomever he was with. But I don’t see signs of a struggle and what kind of kidnapper takes the victim’s belongings?”
“I notice you’re not using pronouns, do you suspect he was with a man?”
“No, I’ve just gotten used to doing it defensively because Jenny keeps fishing.”
Jimmy Palmer’s eyes go a bit wide at that statement but he keeps his head down.
“There is a third option Jethro. Perhaps his lady friend left while he was asleep to avoid the awkward morning after.”
“And she left her underwear on the headboard as a parting gift?”
Gibbs examines the bloody sheet before bagging it for Abby. He waits until Palmer is about to cross the threshold before calling out “Am I more frightening or less all of a sudden Jimmy?”
Palmer gets the look of a deer in headlights but to his credit he answers fairly promptly. “Neither Agent Gibbs.”
Gibbs chuckles at that before nodding and moving over to the small cluster of Bering’s belongings on the night table. Nothing stands out. His clothing, the unies he undoubtedly left the ship in, are in a pile on the floor. He bags those as well. Nothing in the room points at anyone in particular.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Report.”
“No one heard a shot last night or this morning in the surrounding suites. The other guests noticed a pretty brunette coming and going to room 209 the last few days. They describe her as 5’ 9” to 5’ 10” with shoulder length brown hair and dark eyes. They noticed her but none of them reported seeing Bering.”
“The desk clerk gave the same description of Livingston. He wasn’t able to tell me when she checked in. I got the surveillance tapes for Friday when the room was rented and yesterday. I haven’t had a chance to look at them yet but the name and license she gave when she registered have to be bogus. There is no Michelle Livingston in Providence, RI. Or at least not one within twenty years of age of the approximate age given by the witnesses.”
“Nothing similar on Metro’s radar Boss. Just started digging into Bering’s life. All I’ve got so far is that he doesn’t have any family, his parents both died in a car accident six months before he graduated high school. And he hasn’t been back to his home town in South Dakota since joining the Marines.”
“You stay on background Tony. McGee get the video down to the lab and help Abby go through it. Ziva set up a communications link with his current posting. I want to know if anyone aboard ship knows anything about Michelle Livingston.”
After Gibbs heads out, presumably for more coffee, Tony heads into the break room for a pick-me-up and nearly bumps into Cynthia. “Tony, I thought you were all out on a case.”
“We just got back. I just need a snack before I get moving, missed breakfast.”
“I heard you had someone taking care of you these days.”
Tony chuckles, “You’ve been misinformed.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that Tony. You’ve been much happier lately.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t seeing someone, just that no one’s been taking care of me.”
“Abby isn’t taking care of you? She always seems so very concerned about your well being.”
“Why does everyone assume that Abbs and I hanging out more than we used must mean we’re sleeping together?” He sighs, “Abby and I are family. I would never even think of her that way, let alone act on it. I would however rip anyone who hurt her into little tiny pieces.”
“Sorry Tony,” Cynthia offers meekly before retreating back upstairs. The director is at the railing again and Cynthia offers in a low voice, “It’s definitely not Abby. He made that ‘kissing my sister’ face when I suggested it.”
The director gives an infinitesimal nod and heads into her office.
Cynthia shrugs and heads back to her desk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Abby grins and turns to the door when her computer beeps. Not one to disappoint Gibbs enters promptly, caf-pow! in hand. “What do you have for me Baby?”
“How about some stills of ‘Michelle Livingston’?” She smirks and brings up an image on the plasma screen. A thirty-something man with dark hair and eyes.
“That’s Michelle Livingston?” He asks skeptically.
“Michelle Livingston, naturalized citizen of Providence, RI. Born in a small town near Marseilles, France. I also have footage of him handing the key to room off to a young woman matching the description given to you as Michelle Livingston. I have McGee running facial recognition scans against the Rhode Island DMV database.”
“Great catch Baby girl.”
“That’s not all I have you for you Bossman.” A few keystrokes bring up a list of times and dates tagged with some sort of serial numbers. “This is the hotel access record for the door to the suite. There was only one guest key issued,” She highlights a dozen of the twenty entries, “Presumably being used by our not-Michelle. Unfortunately it only logs when a key is used to open the door, not when it’s opened from the inside.”
“You earned this one sweetheart,” He comments fondly handing over her drink.
“I earn them all,” She complains before kissing his cheek, “Have a good weekend Pop?”
“It started better than it ended.”
“You know there is a quick easy cure for that. One little, tiny, insignificant word that would keep the bad day at bay.”
“And what, exactly is this magic word?”
“Stay.”
“As if I were talking to an obedient puppy?” His tone is amused, which they both know is confusing McGee.
“If the simile fits..”
He does his best to glare at her as he leaves the room and manages to hold his laugh until he’s in the elevator. When he reaches the bullpen he dials her extension, “That wasn’t nice Abbs.”
“Oh come on, it was funny. The look on your face alone.”
“Nice use of the Saint Bernard thing.”
“Not like it isn’t true.”
“Still. In answer to the issue on the able, I have to sleep alone sometimes.”
“Who do you think you’re kidding? I know you didn’t sleep well at all.”
“Never do when I sleep alone. It doesn’t change anything.” He looks up as Tony returns from the vending machine with a bottle of Gatorade. “Don’t pick on MIT too much Princess.”
“No promises.”
He hangs up. “What have you got for me Tony?”
“A little. Bering just isn’t all that remarkable. A passably good student. A dedicated marine. A good son by all accounts, just not particularly remarkable. Always had a thing for tall brunettes according to the couple of high school friends I tracked down, but we both know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. The reason he‘s on leave is that he was kidnapped for ransom two weeks ago but locals who thought he was a rich boy tourist. When they found out he was a marine they let him go, no ransom paid. They were good though, he couldn‘t id any of them.”
Gibbs nods, “Which makes it unlikely the two incidents are related. The reason McGee couldn’t get anything on a Michelle Livingston in Providence is because he was looking for the wrong gender. Michelle is a man. He and Abbs are tracking the girl but I want you to pull what you can on Livingston. Maybe it was some kind of bait and switch. He goes up to a pretty young girl’s hotel room, she does her part, and then she lets tall dark and homicidal in.”
“Or maybe the mystery woman is Michelle’s wife or girlfriend and he came back and wasn’t too happy to find some random guy in bed with his woman.” Knowing exactly what the glare he’s receiving means he puts on his most contrite expression, “On it Boss.”
Gibbs heads back out, headed down to the morgue.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Knowing what he’s got is over his head Tony emails it to Abby and heads down to her lab. He finds her alone and hugs her, “Hey Sweetheart. I found something on Michelle Livingston that might be extremely important, but we both know girls rule and I need you to look at it and make sure it’s what I think it is.”
“What’ve you got?”
“Open your email. I found the company Livingston works for and I need to know if I’m understanding what they do correctly.”
“Okay. Let’s see. Oberon Security Technologies.” She skims the company site briefly, “Tony they make electronic key card locks.”
“Meaning that any information we got off the access log is suspect. But why go to all that trouble to kill an orphan marine?”
“Maybe they didn’t pick him ahead of time, maybe he was just the fish they happened to catch.”
“Which means we’ve got suspects, a ton of fairly damning evidence and no clue why they killed him or where they went afterwards.” He shakes his head, “I’m not going to get a good night’s sleep for a week.”
“I thought you lifted the school nights restriction.”
“We did. Doesn’t keep him from carrying all his tension to bed with him. Doesn’t mean we’ve got time to have some tension relief either. You know how hard it is to really relax when your bedmate is wound tighter than violin strings?”
McGee reenters the lab and heads back to Abby’s desk without really looking around. When he reaches it he calls out, “We got a match.”
“Good work Probie, who is she?”
McGee jumps at that. To his credit it takes him less than thirty seconds to recompose himself, “Her name is Natalie Sidle. Just a second. She’s 24, a native of Providence. She worked for an Oberon Security Technologies until three weeks ago. No one reported her missing but she lives alone. Has a living mother and two sisters.”
“Okay, so we know who the players are at least.”
“Is that so?” Gibbs asks from just behind Tony. Payback from this morning no doubt.
“Yes Boss. I was able to pull up several pieces of relevant information on Livingston and verify the implications of what I found with Abby and McGee’s identified the woman and found a connect between her and Livingston.”
“A connection?”
“Both Sidle, that’s the woman, and Livingston worked at Oberon Security Technologies. They’re based in Providence and they make electronic security systems, including the key card locks used by hotels. I‘ll be contacting Oberon as soon as I get back to my desk.”
Gibbs looks over what they’ve got up on the various screens, “Which means the access logs are useless.” He makes an annoyed noise, “Why the hell did this kill this kid?”
He heads back out without another word and heads up to MTAC. When he arrives there Ziva is just thanking the captain of Bering’s ship at one of the stations along the near wall. When she returns the headset to it’s hook Gibbs looks on expectantly.
“No mention of a Michelle, but he was talking about a Natalie a lot in the week between his kidnapping and his leave.”
“Did he have anything to say about the kidnapping or Bering’s reaction to it?”
“He said Bering was more angry than shaken, that he wanted to go back into country and seek them out but the mission would not allow it. He described Bering as a dedicated soldier with a rather fiercely patriotic outlook.”
“I’m not surprised. The kid was nobody until he joined up and then suddenly he was hero.”
Ziva nods, “That was my assessment also. Captain Tanner has agreed to ‘round up’ Bering’s bunkmates and friends for a second video conference in three hours. Perhaps they will be able to give us more information.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tony cracks his neck as his call is transferred for the fifth time.
“I hate it when you do that.”
Tony looks up at Gibbs and signs “Love you too Honey.”
There’s a click on the line, “Special Agent DiNozzo? I'm Fred Rosen, head of operations. What can I do for you?”
“I’m calling for any information you can give me on one current and one former employee, and anything they may have worked on.”
“We will of course cooperate as much as we can but there are certain areas of information that are proprietary that I am not at liberty to divulge.”
“We’ll deal with that if it becomes a concern, sir. Let’s start with Michelle Livingston., what can you tell me about him?”
“First of all he’s currently on a leave of absence.”
“Beginning when?”
There’s a shuffling of papers, “Two weeks ago. He’s scheduled to return on the fifth of November.”
“What else can you tell me about him? What specifically is his position with your company?” He opens his email program and begins taking notes.
“He’s one of our design engineers. He creates and improves the hardware for our security systems, specifically the magnetic and barcode readers used in various door locks. One of the things he’s attempting to develop is a clearance scanner to make sure there are no wires or attachments to the card being used. If successful it will eliminate the primary method of breaking coded key card locks.”
“And the company is one hundred percent behind this project?”
“If we can create and patent it our survival as a company would be virtually guaranteed.”
“So there is absolutely no bad blood between Livingston and your company?”
“Well… He did object in writing to our cancellation of one of the software projects, but his points were duly considered before the decision to terminate the project was finalized. He seemed to understand that it was simply a matter of cost-benefit. The customers would near even notice, let alone appreciate, the improvement so it simply wasn’t worth the $50,000 it would have cost to implement it.”
“What was the project meant to do?”
“Add a secondary magnetic code, encrypted so that only a matching encoder/reader set would have compatible keys. Basically the idea was to make it so even if a card had the correct sequence to open a door if it was not encoded by the authorized encoder it wouldn’t work. The problem with it from a business standpoint is encoding their own eyes is generally not a tactic used by anyone trying to bypass these locks. We’ve only ever had one report of it and it was carried out by a desk clerk at a rival hotel chain using the encoder at his place of employment to commit several acts of petty theft. Mainly women’s under garments.”
“And what can you tell me about Natalie Sidle?”
“Ms. Sidle was the programmer who suggested and was pushing for the project in question. She had a bit of a… breakdown over our refusal to go forward with the project and ended up resigning from her position.”
“Did any of her arguments in favor of the project stick in your mind?”
“She kept insisting it was a weakness that was going to exploited by criminals sooner or later if we didn’t address it. She did blame every member of the board of the directors personally for this potential wave of crimes.”
“Do you recall anything about Ms. Sidle personally? Was she always this passionate, or was it the project specifically?”
“It was most definitely the project. She was generally a quiet person who did as instructed. Her direct supervisor and I were both shocked when refused to drop the matter.”
“One last thing Mr. Rosen, then I’ll let you get back to your business. What sort of relationship did Mr. Livingston and Ms. Sidle have?”
“Outside the office I couldn’t speak to, but within the confinement of their positions the too had regular contact coordinating the two halves of our products. Often changes to the hardware require reworking of the software, and occasionally changes in the software cause unexpected behaviors from the hardware. They would communicate back and forth until a given issue was resolved.”
“Thank you Mr. Rosen. You’ve been extremely helpful. If you think of anything that you may have forgotten or neglected to mention your secretary, the reception desk, and research and development now all have my number. Don’t hesitate to call.”
“You’re welcome Agent DiNozzo and I will keep that in mind.”
Tony emails his notes to Abby with a blind copy to his own box and closes his eyes, sifting through the information he’s just been given.
Chapter End Notes:
I have no connection to or direct knowledge of the Palomar Hotel aside from it's name and location. Any technical information given is bogus too.
Also I have no excuse for this week's lateness. Let's make the implied deadline Fridays from now on, okay?
Also I have no excuse for this week's lateness. Let's make the implied deadline Fridays from now on, okay?