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“Jenny? Jenny, you there?” Jethro spoke into the phone, staring at the bullet in front of him. He wasn’t sure what he expected her to say, but he had this compelling need to talk to her, had been fighting it for a half hour or more. Must have been the bourbon.
“Boss?”
“DiNozzo? What are you doing with her phone? Put her on.”
“Can’t do that, Boss.”
Jethro stilled, listening to the sound of DiNozzo’s voice. The anguish. Something had happened and this was immediate aftermath. His mind raced and he downed the rest of the bourbon, relishing the bite of the alcohol and waiting for the younger man to continue. DiNozzo was never at a loss for words… He gave Tony ten seconds before he broke the silence.
“Tony? Speak to me. Why can’t I speak with Jenny?”
“She’s gone, Boss.” Jethro heard the strangled sound through phone lines, ignoring the tears burning his own eyelids. He’d suspected she was sick, but not this sick. How come it had happened so damn soon?
“What happened, DiNozzo?”
“Shootout. God, Boss…I…” He vaguely heard the sounds of Tony’s grief before the phone clattered, his own stomach churning. She was killed? In a shootout? With Ziva and Tony right there?
“Gibbs?” Even Ziva sounded shaken. He closed his eyes, allowing the tears to overflow, biting his lip until it bled. He had loved her. Dammit, he had loved her, maybe more than all three exes put together.
He cleared his throat, striving for control. “What happened to her, Ziva? Tell me… You and Tony were on protection detail...”
“Long story, Gibbs. She sent us away and we got here too late. That is all. What are your orders?” Her words were clipped and she was all business.
Orders? He had to get it together. “Put DiNozzo back on, Ziva.” He couldn’t handle her cool detachment even though he knew there were a lot of emotions churning.
“Boss?”
Jethro hadn’t intended to do so, but when he heard DiNozzo’s voice, he let out a sniffle that must have cued the other man in to his emotional state.
“Yeah, DiNozzo. I know. Look, don’t move a thing. Gimme the address and I’ll be out there. I’ll make it happen. Don’t leave her…alone, okay? Promise me she won’t be alone. And Tony…not your fault.” He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn’t yet.
Shit, he was audibly crying now. He quietly thanked Tony and hung up, pouring another entire jar of Jack. He picked up the photo of Jenny, looking elegant and classy, hair upswept.
“We had something once, Jen. Thanks…for the memories.”
He downed the entire drink in a swallow and wiped his mouth on his arm, then used his sleeve to dry his eyes. The time for mourning was over, he had a job to do.