All language subtitles for NCIS S09E02 Restless.DVDRip.NonHI.en.PRMNT

We went all-out. Help yourself.

Can I top you off?

Ask me again when you turn 21.

Hey, hey, I'm not drinking.
I'm just serving.

Not anymore.

Uh, actually, Virginia law states
that persons 18 years of age or older

- are permitted to serve alcohol.
- Oh, really?

Yeah, look,
I brought a copy of the statute.

You know, Nathan,
you'd have a lot more friends

if you didn't do things like this.

Everybody get in your places.
Here he comes.

Oh, come on, guys. He's here.

Surprise!

- What's wrong with him?
- No, Tommy.

- Uh-oh. Did I miss someone's birthday?
- No, this is for Tony.

Huh. What's the occasion?

It has not been
the best of weeks for him,

so I thought
he could use some cheering up.

Yeah, I noticed.
I actually got him something too.

It's not much, but
hopefully it'll take his mind off things.

- Just can't stand all the moping.
- I've not been moping.

I've been a little dejected,
apathetic, perhaps.

That's the definition
of the word "moping".

Is it really?

Well, let's just see
what the dictionary app has to say.

Oh. You're right.
What is going on with me?

My memory's like a...

It's that damn concussion.

Then I guess
you won't be needing this.

McGEE:
Or this.

What are thises?

Gifts. To cheer you up.

Well, I have been feeling
a little mopey.

Thank you.

Very sweet of you.

Oh.

Two tickets to female mud wrestling.

Thanks. I'll have to put a pin in that.

And Original-Recipe Probie.

Very sweet. Very nice.

- Two tickets to female mud wrestling.
- Heh.

- Ha, ha. How old do you think I am?
- Physically or mentally?

What is this, a gag gift?
You guys plan this together?

DiNozzo, I got a gift for you.

- Dead body?
- Yep.

- Grab our gear?
- Yep.

Thank you, boss. A gift I can use.

The only thing I need to do right now
is keep working.

See, this is what I need, work.
Keep me busy.

Good.
I think we can still get refunds.

Never said I didn't want them.

Private First Class Thomas Hill.

Just returned from deployment
in Afghanistan the prior week.

The party was
to welcome him home.

- Nice welcome.
- Yeah.

Apparently he was also going to
be the grand marshal

at something called
the Homecoming Parade.

They don't have homecoming
in Israel?

They wouldn't. Homecoming
is a distinctively American tradition.

- Actually, it began...
- In 1911 at the U of Missouri

under Athletic Director
Chester Brewer.

Yes, however, it is interesting
to note that...

That year is a matter
of some contention. In fact...

I'm sorry, doctor, I interrupted you.
Please continue.

We continue working.

Good idea. Come on.

I remember my last
homecoming. The parade, the game,

stringing Stinky John
up the flagpole by his underwear.

Good times.

Says the man too mature
for female mud wrestling.

Time of death is a matter of
record and we have a preliminary cause.

- Stabbed to death?
- Yes.

There are multiple
sharp force traumas.

McGEE:
And there's more blood outside.

Still have to check the area to find out
where it leads. So far, no witnesses.

Take Ziva with you.

So, what exactly is homecoming,

and why does underwear
play such an important role?

It doesn't. At least
as long as Tony's not involved.

Homecoming in a small town like this
is usually a pretty big deal.

Then if Private Hill was going to be
this "grand marshal"...

Then he was a pretty big deal too.

I hope the murder wasn't too far.
I hate spread-out crime scenes.

Then I think you're in luck.

McGEE:
Is that a cell phone?

- No, wait. Hold on.
- Hey!

- McGEE: No, hold on, hold on! Stop!
- Wait, wait, wait!

McGEE:
Stop, stop, stop!

Stinky.

McGEE:
We'll never find this cell phone.

- How many more are there?
- Another 30 or so.

Next time, why don't you
just shoot the driver?

Next time, I will.

Here, put these on.

Oh. Excellent.

Thanks.

I hate face masks.
They make me claustrophobic.

Well, so will the iron lung
you're gonna call home

when you get silicosis
from all the silica dust.

Wait, aren't you gonna stay
and help?

Aw. That is so sweet of you to ask,

but my job is to process the evidence,
not to find it.

I would never wanna
take that away from you.

Okay, let's hear it.

As you were.

Private First Class Thomas Hill,
Tommy Toms to his friends.

He was abandoned by
his drug-addicted mother as a kid,

spent the rest of his childhood
in the foster care system.

Eventually he ended up
getting adopted by a military family.

- Found the cell phone.
- I'll alert ZNN.

The guy's record was impeccable.

No one had anything bad to say about
him, including his fellow Marines.

- Neighbors.
- Superiors.

Everybody loved this guy.

He's dead, DiNozzo.

Not everybody.

It's my fault Tommy's dead.

Please, stop saying that, Lindsey.

I was supposed to meet him
after his shift like a block away.

It was my job to bring him
to his party, but...

- He never showed up.
- Whoever did this is gonna pay.

It's not your fault.

But if I was there,
maybe I could've done something.

Yeah, or maybe your parents
would be sitting here alone.

I wish they were my parents.

Lindsey came to us two years ago.
Two blessed years.

We're not her parents,
no, but we are her family.

Tell us what you need to know to find
the son of a bitch who killed Tommy.

I hear he was a good kid.

- Everybody feel that way?
- Never met one who didn't.

He was a star quarterback.

Everybody liked him, couldn't help it.

Never in trouble a day in his life.

How about you?

Not nearly as well-liked. Sue me.

Most trouble I've ever been in
was almost losing our house last year.

Like the rest of the world.

I did notice something unusual.

Go on.

It was a few days after
he came home from deployment.

Something was bothering him.

He said it was nothing, but I...

I knew he was lying.

He was a good kid, Agent Gibbs.

Amazing. Remarkable.

- Totally unbelievable.
- What have you got, Abs?

A newfound respect
for my old homecoming dress.

I loved it when I wore it,

and then I banned its mention
during the next decade,

but I'm kind of coming around again.
All that's missing is a dog collar.

Which one was the lucky guy?

Um, all of them.

They all asked me to the dance
and I couldn't bear to say no,

so I kind of talked all three of them
into taking me.

- Hmm. How'd that work out?
- Well...

Let's just say it might be what got me
interested in my first crime scene.

Speaking off...

This is the cell phone
that McGee found.

I'm operating under the assumption
that it belongs to the killer.

Not big on assumptions.
Especially today.

No, I know, but right now,
this is all I've got.

It's been modified
to wipe its memory

if the wrong password is entered
too many times,

but this blood is PFC Hill's,

and the spatter suggested
the cell phone was really close

to whoever did the stabbing,
like on his hip.

Am I forgiven?

Get inside, I'll think about it.

Right,
I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.

However, I did get into his laptop.
I found something very interesting.

He spent the last three days trying
to hack into the Virginia State website.

- Looking for what?
- Good question. He never got in.

But what's interesting about the laptop
is where it's been.

Its 4G modem records location data
whenever it connects to a cell tower.

This laptop has not left town
except for once, six months ago.

The location is 200 feet off the nearest
hiking trail, middle of nowhere.

Not the kind of the place you'd
expect someone to bring a laptop.

I smell foulness.

Like the dress, Abs.

Thanks.

- We there yet?
McGEE: The more you ask,

- the longer it's gonna take.
- Really?

So there's some magical connection
between my mouth and distance?

No, but there is between
your mouth and annoyance.

- Ah. But thankfully we are here.
- Hmm.

All right, what are we looking for?

I don't know, but I got a feeling
something is buried right here.

No.

I pulled a dead bloated corpse
out of a hot tub last year, okay?

This is your turn.

I'll give you $200.

Deal.

Though I would've taken 50.

Really?

Well, let's just consider
the other 150 nerd restitution, huh?

Excuse me?

You must've been teased
pretty badly in high school, huh?

Uh, actually, no, I wasn't.

You don't wanna talk about it,
it's okay.

Feeling guilty about something?

Maybe not guilty, just...

Reflective.

I strung this kid up by his underwear
when I was in boarding school.

- Right, yeah, Stinky John.
- Yeah.

Strung him up by his tighty-whities
off the flagpole 20 feet in the air.

Remarkably not cool of me.

No, it wasn't.

Who does something like that?

I'm a big fan of practical jokes, because
they're funny, but nobody gets hurt.

I mean, you could really hurt a kid
with that. And he was just a kid.

- Think about it. A kid.
- Yeah, and so were you.

But at least you finally figured it out.

Oh.

Look at that. We got something.

There's a lock.

Look at you. All resourceful.

McGEE:
All right.

Huh.
So that's what Private Hill buried.

Treasure.
Should have seen that coming.

McGEE:
There's gotta be 50 grand in here.

I guess our perfect kid wasn't
quite so perfect.

It was the most
exciting moment of my life.

My heart rate accelerated wildly.

And my spinal reflexes
were totally disinhibited.

- Did she say yes?
- Well, of course she did.

And then we had a wonderful time
at the dance.

I went to all my school dances.

In fact, you know,
he and I have something in common.

We were both elected
homecoming king.

And on what merits
did you get elected?

It was a charter school.

There were only 12 kids
in my class, so...

Still, your fellow students
chose you above the others.

Unless, of course...

The other 11 were girls.

- Oh, look, Agent Gibbs.
- Ziva said you found something?

Yes, I did.
And I understand you did as well.

A rather large quantity of cash
associated with this fellow.

Abby's processing it now.

Do you have any idea
where it came from?

- Don't you have a pipette to clean?
- Always.

Pipettes can never be too clean.
Jimmy's rule number one.

I haven't begun
the formal autopsy yet,

but an examination of his epidermis
revealed this small puncture wound.

It's from a syringe.

I was able to retrieve the tip
which had broken off inside,

- which strongly suggests...
- The injection wasn't voluntary.

No, nor was it complete.

The drug never reached
his circulatory system.

But there was enough material inside
the syringe for Abby to identify it.

- A sedative?
- And a strong one too.

But what interests me the most
is the clotting around the wound.

It tells me that the injection
was attempted before the stabbing.

Attacker wasn't trying to kill him.

Yes, well, it could be an attempted
kidnapping followed by a struggle.

And then a murder.

If you can find the rest of the syringe,
you may get a clue as to its owner.

What are they doing here?

Their son has just been murdered
and they're decorating a parade float?

Well, people grieve in different ways.

Those are kids,
so try not to upset anyone, okay?

Thanks, guys.
I know Tommy would've appreciated it.

Agent McGee, David.

Tell me you found my son's killer.

We've not caught anyone.

We just need to take another look
at the crime scene.

Is there anything we can do to help?

- Uh, no, we've got it.
- Um, Nathan.

I'm Lindsey's, um... We're kind of...

- We're taking it slow.
- Right, that's what I meant.

Well, Mr. and Mrs. McCormick,

since you're here, there are
a few things we need to clear up.

Yes, anything.

Did Private...? Sorry, uh, your son.

Did he ever show any interest
in computer hacking?

Tommy?

He wouldn't even pirate music.

He'd spend his whole allowance
every week to buy a new CD.

Well, did you notice him having
a lot of extra cash around lately?

Don't like what you're implying.

I'm not implying anything.
I'm just asking a few questions.

- Well, I don't like your questions.
- Me neither.

Don't you guys have
something better to do?

Yes.

And they were just leaving to do it.

- Um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend.
- Your shoes offended me.

- Okay, hold on. Let's just calm down.
- You find them in a Dumpster?

I paid over $200 for these shoes.

You got ripped off.
Like you did with that haircut.

And what's with the bags
under your eyes?

- Come on.
- Loser.

Let's see if we can find that syringe.

No, McGee, you do not have
bags under your eyes.

- They're just trying to get your sheep.
- Goat. Are you sure?

Because I've noticed
in the past week.

- I am sure.
- You find a syringe?

Actually, two.

The killer tried to hide it
in a neighbor's trash bin.

We sent the prints to Abby.
She's running them now.

McGee made several new friends.

Couple of kids piled on
at the crime scene.

Felt like
I was back in high school again.

I thought you said
you weren't teased in high school.

- I wasn't.
- Okay.

I'm gonna leave it at that,
because I'm your friend.

And if you don't wanna talk about it,
then that's great.

And I can respect that.

- But I need a favor.
- Ha. That's more like it.

Trying to track somebody down.
Having a little bit of trouble.

Who?

John.

You wouldn't by any chance be
talking about Stinky John?

I would. His last name is Smith.

You know how many John Smiths
there are? Like a million of them.

Why would you try to find the man
that you strung up by his underwear?

To do it again?

I just thought I might wanna say hi.
Right? Maybe, uh, buy him a beer.

Maybe apologize. I mean...

Maybe just "sorry." That's weak.

I don't know, but something like that.

All right, Tony, I'd be happy to help.

Thank you. Look sharp.

Hey, boss.

Still, uh, no luck on where Private Hill's
cash stash came from,

but I did find some interesting-ness.

Hill's parents were six months behind
on their mortgage payments.

Then suddenly paid off
the entire balance.

In cash. A lot of cash.

McGee and I were able to retrieve
the missing syringe.

I know. Abby already got a match
on the prints. McGee.

McGEE:
Curtis Beane.

He's got a record a mile long,
but he hasn't been in trouble in years.

According to parole reports, he's worked
at the same place since he got out.

- DiNozzo, BOLO.
- On it.

Ziva, with me.

Sorry, no, I haven't seen Curtis
in like two days.

And to be honest,
I'm a little bit worried.

Why is that?

He's one of my best managers.

He's been with me
since the beginning.

Not like him to just disappear.

You are aware
that he's a convicted felon, right?

Everybody here is a convicted felon.
That's why it's called Second Chance.

- So, what's your beef with Curtis?
- Found his prints at a murder scene.

No way. No, must be some mistake.

- Curtis has been clean for years.
- No, there's no mistake.

This man was murdered yesterday.

Wow, so young.

I don't know why Curtis' prints
were at your crime scene,

but there's not a chance in hell
he was gonna risk going back to jail.

He had a tough time in the joint.

If you do, uh, hear from him,
let us know, huh?

Look, I understand your pain.

I mean, no one wants
their secrets revealed.

But you had something
that I needed,

you had something
that Leroy Jethro Gibbs needed,

and that is a man
that you do not wanna disappoint.

Never have before, Abs.

Actually, I have,
but I'd prefer not to go there.

- Works for me. Get the password?
- I did.

I used a smudge attack.

- Smudge?
- Attack, yeah.

It's deceptively simple.

Every time a cell phone user
enters their password,

they leave a smudge
on each button-press.

It's virtually undetectable,

but if you photograph it
at exactly the right angle,

and then you jack up the contrast,
you'll get a pattern.

And with that you can deduce
the password, which I did.

- Are you impressed?
- Every time.

Unfortunately,
there's not that much on the cell.

There's no address book.
It's an unregistered phone.

All the calls went to another
unregistered number.

The only thing I did find
were surveillance photos.

- PFC Hill?
- No.

His sister, Lindsey.

Gibbs, I just don't think that Hill
was the kidnapper's target.

No.

Me neither.

Oh, my God,
you were being followed?

Are you sure these belong
to Tommy's killer?

Found these on his cell phone.

- You think it was me he wanted to...?
- We believe you were the target, yes.

But we also believe that the intent
was kidnapping and not murder.

My son is dead.

Most likely because
he attempted to intervene.

Tommy was trying to protect me?

So it is all my fault.

I don't think PFC Hill
would see it that way.

Why would anybody wanna
kidnap our girl?

We don't have any money.

What's with the eyeballs?

Well, our records indicate that you
made a sizable payment to your bank

- to prevent foreclosure.
- Well, you got your records wrong.

Yeah, we were looking at foreclosure
a few months back.

But then the bank sent us a letter

saying they were reducing
our mortgage.

We're getting your foster records,
but we'd rather hear the story from you.

It may help us find
whoever took these pictures.

Yeah, um...

My birth parents, they lived with
this commune in Pennsylvania.

They were against technology,
stuff like that.

We moved around a lot.

I got, uh, beat up a lot.

By other kids?

No. My parents.

One day, I had enough and took off.

Social Services picked her up.
She ended up with us.

Where are your birth parents now?

I don't know.

But what if it's them?
What if they want me back?

- They can try.
- We won't let anything happen to you.

It's okay.

There is little on Lindsey's
biological parents in her file.

If they're off the grid,
they'll be pretty hard to find.

There's no cell phone, no car.

Who doesn't like technology?

Plague-surviving mutants.

You ever see Omega Man?
1971, Charlton Hes...

- Keep it helpful.
- Concussion. Okay.

- Think we're missing the big picture.
- What's that?

The dead guy buried
50 grand in the forest.

Yes, but the killer was targeting
his foster sister.

Yes, but do I have to do
all the heavy lifting?

Yes, lift.

Hill was in business with Curtis.
Something illegal.

The Goody Two-shoes routine
was obviously a cover.

So, what happened next
is what always happens next.

The private got greedy.

Took more than his fair share,
buried it in the ground.

Hill wouldn't say where
and Curtis couldn't go to the police.

So he tried to grab Lindsey
as leverage.

Nice assist.

Either way,
Lindsey could still be in danger.

DiNozzo, track down that commune.
McGee, you got Curtis.

Ziva, I want a copy
of that bank letter.

- Where you going?
- First shift.

I want eyes on Lindsey
around the clock.

Tony?

I think I found your friend,
Stinky John.

I was able to use your description
of a mole on his chin.

Traced him to a clinical trial
for basal cell carcinoma treatment.

Oh, my God. He's got cancer.

Oh, no, no, don't worry about it.
He's fine. They were able to treat it.

But he's getting on a plane
to leave the country tomorrow.

So if you wanna see him,
you'd better hurry.

Okay. Thanks.

Hi.

Thought you might want
some coffee.

Thanks.

You should be in bed.

Oh, yeah, well,
my bed's kind of crowded.

My mom insisted
on sleeping with me.

She's worried about you.

They're not like the others.

My real parents.

And they're not like those people

who take as many foster kids
as they can get because they get paid.

- They really care.
- Yeah, I know.

Five iron tipped me off.

Biggest thing I had to worry about
before this week

was what I'm gonna do
after graduation.

Hmm.

What is that?

I'm sure the wrong thing.

Ow. Take it easy! Jeez.

Nathan, what are you doing?

I just came to see if you were okay.

Yeah, and I was gonna swat a fly
off the end of your nose.

Call his parents.

Nathan, you could get hurt.

I know. And so could you.

- That's why I'm here.
- So am I.

Right, and I appreciate the assistance,
Agent Gibbs.

In fact, if there's anything I can do...

Wait, is that the guy?

I've seen that guy before.

- Where?
- He flagged me down

to ask for directions the other day.

And then looked like
he saw a ghost.

And then he just took off.
It was so weird.

- Yes, Gibbs.
- Hey, boss, sorry to bother you.

I've been pulling an all-nighter
trying to find that commune.

But I guess it's moot now. The guy
who owns the taco place just called.

Said Curtis Beane showed up.

- Where is he?
- Up on the roof. He's talking crazy.

DiNozzo.

He just keeps saying
how he's not going back to jail.

That's never a good sign.

You promised you were gonna bring
Curtis in safe, prove him innocent.

Yeah, well, I can bring him in.

That second part's not up to me.

Curtis, NCIS!
Get your hands in the air!

Get away from the ledge.

Your boss thinks you were set up.

If that's true, we can help.

Don't do it!

He's going over!

McGEE:
Boss.

He was right.
He's not going back to prison.

I thought for sure
he was going over the edge.

Well, lucky for me he didn't.

You dug that hole. Would be
my turn to go through his pockets.

So was the death accidental
or deliberate?

Waiting for Ducky's repot.

With the number of track marks
in his arm,

it's amazing he didn't kill himself
a month ago.

But we're pretty sure
he killed Private Hill.

He had the murder weapon on him.
Open and shut case.

Really? Open and shut, huh?

And all this time
I'm here thinking we needed motive.

Gibbs, I may have found
something helpful.

This is a copy of the bank letter
the McCormicks received,

informing them
their mortgage was reduced.

However, it is a forgery.

- The bank said they never sent it.
- But you know who did?

I found the original file
on Private Hill's computer.

So he paid the bill,
then forged the letter

so he didn't have to explain
where the cash came from?

No, I do not think Hill sent it.

The file was last modified
while he was deployed.

But the computer never
left the state.

- Doesn't leave us a lot of options.
- Well, let me pick one for you.

I just finished running
Lindsey's DNA.

- And?
- And it matches the blood

from the second syringe
that Ziva found at the crime scene.

- She was there?
McGEE: Lindsey?

When her foster brother was
murdered? But she didn't say anything.

Oh. Tip, iceberg.

Per your request, I also ran a DNA test
that can ballpark a person's age range.

You're right, Gibbs,
her coffee was too good.

It has a pretty wide margin of error,

but according to the telomeres
of her DNA, Lindsey is not 17.

She's 27.

Gibbs, we widened the range of
our background search and got a hit.

Her real name isn't Lindsey,
it's Roxanne.

She didn't run away from a commune
two years ago either.

She was living with a foster family
in Maryland.

She said she was 16.

Spent a few years
in the local high school.

Then ran away just before
her 18th birthday.

I got a hit.

Her real name isn't Lindsey,
it's Daisy.

I found the same thing.

Five years ago
she called herself Daisy.

Moved in with a foster family
in Pennsylvania.

- Said she was 16?
- Yeah.

Spent two years in high school.

Ran away just before
her 18th birthday.

She's been living a lie
this whole time.

- It is some kind of con, huh?
- Maybe Private Hill got suspicious.

He was poking around

Virginia's Social Services database
before he was killed.

Lindsey could've hired someone
to take him out

before he found anything
incriminating.

- Pick her up.
- Okay.

Hey, guys, um,
we gotta take two cars.

I'm gonna make a little pit stop
on my way back. Thanks.

"With my deepest apologies..."

Seemed like a much better idea
in the shower.

John!

Somebody's had a growth spurt.

That's better.

You may not remember me.

- DiNozzo.
- Yeah.

- Tony DiNozzo.
- Yeah.

Yeah, man, yeah.
How you doing, buddy?

Good to see you. How are you?

John, um, listen, I got...

I just, uh...

I know this is gonna sound a little crazy,
because it's ancient history and, uh...

I just wanted to, uh,

say I'm sorry for what happened
when we were in boarding school,

because, you know,
it was inappropriate and, uh...

Well, anything involving flagpoles
and underwear...

Wait, wait a second.

You're sorry?

Yeah.

Better late than never, right?

Uh, yeah.

Yeah, but I'm just not real sure why
you're the one who's sorry.

Uh, your agents said
you wanted to talk to me.

Yeah.

Just not sure what I should call you.

I don't understand.

It's you.

Two years ago,
a senior in high school.

This is you.

Five years ago.

Senior in high school.

Each time, the same face.

Just different names.

My name is Lindsey.

Yeah, well, Lindsey,

we found your DNA at the crime scene
where Private Hill was murdered.

Don't my foster parents have
to be here when you question me?

If you were actually 17, yeah.
Mm-hm.

I am 17.

Yeah. And I'm about to charge you
with murder.

Why'd you lie to us?

That money that was buried,
that didn't belong to PFC Hill.

It belonged to you, from whatever con
you've been running.

All right, stand up.

Wait, no. I was waiting to meet Tommy
for the party, like I said, and then...

Suddenly this guy appeared.
He stuck me with something.

The last thing I remember is Tommy
grabbing me and telling me to run.

I guess I did.
I woke up in a field half an hour later.

Why didn't you say something
about the attack?

I don't know. I guess I was scared.

Of what?
That we'd find out about these?

No, there's nothing to find out.

They're obviously fake.

They don't look
like they're fakes to me.

Well, look,

I've never seen those photos
before in my life.

So, Duck, is she crazy or not?

Crazy is not a technical diagnosis.

- I'm not a technical guy, Duck.
- Well, the short answer is no.

I'm convinced that
this woman believes

she's a 17-year-old girl
named Lindsey.

That's pretty nuts.

Belief is the currency of the delusionist,
Jethro, not the mentally ill.

The difference here is that
part of her does know the truth.

Here's the forged bank letter
reducing the McCormicks' mortgage.

The signature is
in Lindsey's handwriting.

So she's the one
who paid off the bank.

And then tried to deny the fact.

Such manipulation requires,

well, a considerable awareness
of her real identity.

That's a lot of cash.

Yeah, the source of which
is a mystery.

- You don't think this is a con?
- Jethro, this is not about the money.

Look at the pattern.

She's been in three foster families
before her current one.

Stolen from none of them.

But then, just before she turns 18,
she runs away,

lies her way
into another foster home

and enjoys a few carefree years
as a high-schooler.

Then just before
she has to turn 18 again...

She runs away. She starts all over.

Everyone has their addiction, Jethro.
This woman's is childhood.

She covets an adolescence
that was taken from her.

- Taken?
- And quite violently.

That story about the Pennsylvania
commune is clearly a fabrication,

but based in fact.

This is her medical file.

Her body is covered in old scars
from multiple beatings.

With such childhood trauma,

it's no wonder that
she has chosen to deny her past.

And if it continues to threaten her,

then I don't think she's even capable
of acknowledging it.

Sadly, it might have been different
in her new home.

Who knows? She might even
have turned 18 this time.

Agent Gibbs.

Here to take me up on that offer
for the free chili con carne?

No, wanted you to take
another look at this photo.

You sure it doesn't look familiar?

Like I said last time, no.
No, I never seen that guy before.

What about the girl?

No, sorry.

Really?

Because state records indicate
that she's your niece.

And you got custody of her
after her parents died in a car crash

when she was 11.

Hey!

It wasn't me. It was Curtis.

She ran away years ago,
took a boatload of his cash with her.

Then last week, he runs into her.
Total fluke.

- He just wanted his money back.
- Oh, come on.

Blaming it on the dead guy.
That's a dead giveaway.

Where'd a guy like Curtis
get 50 grand?

From the ex-cons I hired.

They used the deliveries
that Curtis assigned them

as cover to stake out
people's houses.

Then they cut Curtis in
on some of the money they stole.

Really?
We spoke to a few of your employees.

And they said
you were the one in charge,

- and the money was yours.
- They're lying.

- Let go!
- McGee, let him go.

You wanna make a run for it, go, go.
Go on, get out of here. Do it.

You've got a gun. What do I got?

What am I supposed to do with this?

Oh.

Sorry. That's right.
You only use that on little girls.

You got about a half-hour
to get your stuff.

We need to be
at the hospital by 2.

Yeah.

Wouldn't wanna miss
my commitment hearing.

It's just an evaluation.

Um, I'm not crazy.

Can you guys just get my stuff?

They asked to see you.

I don't wanna see them.

You know, I don't need my things.
Let's just go.

You said that you've always done
the wrong thing.

Well, this is your chance
to do the right thing.

We opened our home to you because
we thought you were in trouble.

I'm so sorry.

Well, as far as we're concerned,

nothing's changed.

Sweetie.

It's gonna be okay, honey.

Let's go.

Wish my own apology
went that well.

Uh, there was this...
It was nothing, but I had this, uh...

I know.

What happened?

I wrote an apology card.

That's not a good idea.
Rule number six, never say you're sorry.

Let's just say Lindsey wasn't
the only one reinventing her past.

Apparently I didn't string Stinky John
up by his tighty-whities on the flagpole.

He strung me up.

Which is weird, really weird,
because I...

I've been telling that story
for a long time,

and I don't know when
I flip-flopped it,

but I guess...

I don't know, maybe I was trying
to protect myself or make things...

Easier.

Easier.

Yeah.

McGee is never gonna let me
hear the end of this.

You don't have to tell him, DiNozzo.

I know.

But I should.