09x02 - Restless

Amanda 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.

Okay, everybody, get in your places, here he comes.

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


Welcome home!

Hi, Tommy!


No, Tommy.

NCIS Season 9Episode 02

Uh-oh, did I miss someone's birthday?

No, this is for Tony.

Huh, what's the occasion?

Well, 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.

I just can't stand all the moping.

I have not been moping.

Been a little dejected, apathetic perhaps.

That's actually 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 is like a... it's that damn concussion.

Then I guess you won't be needing this.

Or this.

What are "thises"?

Gifts to cheer you up.

Well, I have been feeling a little mopey.

Thank you.

Very sweet of you.

Two tickets to female mud wrestling.


Uh, I'll have to put a pin in that.

And Original Recipe Probie.

Very sweet, very nice.

Two more tickets to female mud wrestling.

How old do you guys think I am?

Physically or mentally?

What, is this a, a gag gift?

You guys planned this together?

DiNozzo, I got a gift for you.

Dead body?


Grab our gear?


Thank you, boss.

A gift I can use.

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 University 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.

Can 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.

He's stabbed to death, Duck?

Yes, there are multiple sharp force traumas.

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.

Is that a cell phone?

No, wait, ho...hold on!

Hold... no, no!


No, hold on, hold on!

Stop, stop!Stop, stop it, stop!

Ugh, stinky.

We'll never find that 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.


I hate face masks.

They make me claustrophobic.

Well, so will the iron lung you're going to call home when you get silicosis from all the silica dust.

Wait, aren't you going to stay and help?

Ah, that is so sweet of you to ask, but my job is to process the evidence, not to find it.

I would never want to 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.

Guy's record was impeccable, boss.

Not one person had anything bad to say about him, including his fellow marines.



Everybody loved this guy.

He's dead, DiNozzo. Not everybody.

It's my fault Tommy is 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 going to pay.

It's not your fault.

But if I was there, maybe I could have 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.

Just 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 the 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.He... 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 do you got, Abbs?

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 'em 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 of... 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.

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 suggests that 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.

All right, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.

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

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

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.

I mean, not the kind of place you'd expect someone to bring a laptop.

I smell foulness.

Liked the dress, Abbs.


Are we there yet?

The more you ask, the longer it's gonna take.

Oh, 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.

All right, what are we looking for?

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


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

This is your turn.

I'll give you $200.


Though I would've taken $50.


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

Excuse me?

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

Uh, actually, no, I wasn't.

If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay.

Feeling guilty about something?


I mean, not guilty, just...


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

Right.Yes, Stinky John.


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.

'Cause they're funny, but nobody gets hurt.

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

Think about it... a kid.

Yep.And so were you.

But at least you finally figured it out.

Look at that.We got something.

There's a lock.

Look at you.All resourceful.

All right.

So that's what Private Hill buried... treasure.Should've seen that coming.

There's got to be 50 grand in here.

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

It was the most exciting moment of my life. flavour 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.

Yes, 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 we have any idea where it came from?

Don't you have a pipette to clean?


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...

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.


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 have 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?


Wouldn't even pirate music.

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

Did you notice him having a lot of extra cash around lately?

I 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?


And they were just leaving to do it.

Um, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.

Your shoes offended me.

Okay, hold on.Let's just calm down, okay?

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, McGee.


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.


You sure?'Cause 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 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.


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

And if you don't want to talk about it, then-then that's great, and I can respect that.

But I need a favor.

That's more like it.

I'm trying to track somebody down.

I'm having a little bit of trouble.



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?

It's like a million of them.

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

To do it again?

Well, I just thought I might want to say hi.


Maybe, uh, buy him a beer.

Maybe apologize.

I mean, maybe just sorry.

Eh, 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.

And McGee and I were able to retrieve the missing syringe.

I know.

Abby already got a match on the prints.


Curtis Beane.

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

According to his 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.v

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's 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.

Yeah, Curtis has been clean for years.

No, there is no mistake.

This man was murdered yesterday.

So young.

You know, I don't know why Curtis's prints are 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 want to disappoint.

Never have before, Abbs.

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

Works for me.

Get the password?

I did.

I used a smudge attack.


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 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?


His sister.


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


Me, neither.

Oh, my God, Youyou were being followed?

Are you sure these belong to Tommy's killer?

Found these on his cell phone.

So 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 want to 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.


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.

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

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

No cell phone, no car...

Who doesn't like technology?

Plague-surviving mutants.

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

Keep it helpful.


I 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.


But do I have to do all the heavy lifting?

Yes, lift.

Private 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, boss?

I got first shift.I want eyes on Lindsey around the clock.


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 is getting on a plane to leave the country tomorrow.

So, if you want to see him, you'd better hurry.



Thought you might want some coffee.


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 'cause 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.

And what is that?

I'm sure the wrong thing.

Take it easy!Geez!

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.

And 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 d...

Wait, is that the guy?

Wait, I-I've seen that guy before.


He was lost and 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.

Yeah, it's Gibbs.

Hey, boss.Sorry to bother you.

I've been pulling an all nighter, and I've been 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?

He's up on the roof.He's talking crazy.


Hey, he-he just keeps saying how he's not going back to jail.

That's never a good sign.

You-you promised you were going to 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!


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've been my turn to go through his pockets.

So was the death accidental or deliberate?

Waiting for Ducky's report.

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 it matches the blood from the second syringe that Ziva found at the crime scene.

She was there.


When her foster brother was murdered, and 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 were 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.

And 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 almost 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?

And 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.


Hey, guys, um, we ought to take two cars.

I may...make a little pit stop on my way back.


"With my deepest apologies...

" This seemed like a much better idea in the shower.


Ah, somebody's had a growth spurt.

That's better.

You may not remember me...



Tony DiNozzo?


Yeah, man!


How you doing, buddy?

Good to see you.How are you?

John, uh, listen, I got...

I...I just uh...

I know this is gonna sound a little crazy, 'cause 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...it was inappropriate and, uh...

Well, anything involving flagpoles and-and, uh...and underwear.

Wait.Wait, wait a second.

You're sorry?


Better late than never, right?


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

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


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-hmm.

I am 17.

Yeah, and I'm about to charge you with murder.

Why did you lie to us?

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

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

All right, stand up.

Wait.No, I-I was...

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...I woke up in a field a 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 these photos before in my life.

So, Duck, 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 is a 17-year-old girl named Lindsey.

That's pretty nuts.

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

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

Here's the forged bank letter, reducing the McCormick's 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 a... well, a considerable awareness of her real identity.

It'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.


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?



Because state records indicate that she is your niece.

And you got custody of her after her parents died in a car crash when she was 11.

It wasn't me!

It was Curtis!

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

And 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.


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 want to make a run for it, go, go.

Go on, get out of here, do it.

You got a gun.

What do I got?

What am I supposed to do with this?

Oh, I'm 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 2:00.


Wouldn't want to miss my commitment hearing.

It's just an evaluation.

I'm... I'm not crazy.

Can you guys just get my stuff?

They asked to see you.

I don't want to see them.

You know, I don't need my things.

Let's... let's just go.

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

Well, here's 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.


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-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 when I... flip-flopped it.

But I guess...

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



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

You don't have to tell him, DiNozzo.

I know... but I should.