I got another one for you, Road Hog.
Come back.
Road Hog here. Lay it on me, Lobo.
Jennifer Aniston, or Jennifer Lopez?
Man, that's a tough one.
Both way out of my league.
Hey, who would I be?
What do mean, who'd you be? They'd be them, you'd be you.
Yeah, but I mean, couldn't I be Tom Cruise or that Wolverine guy or somebody?
That ain't how this works, Hog.
What the hell...?
Oh, man. Oh, please no.
No, no, no. Oh.
Hey, you okay?
Mister, where'd you come from?
God does protect drunks and fools, I guess.
Let me call the cops, okay?
Need some water or something?
Mister?
♪ NCIS 9x06 ♪ Thirst Original Air Date on October 25, 2011
♪
You know it's too early when there's no one even here to make coffee.
Does that mean you made some?
Oh, yeah, and I made some nice muffins, too.
Get 'em while they're piping hot.
I should have stopped on the way in.
Who had the time?
We all got the pre-dawn wake-up call after a 2:00 a.m. night, no less.
Anyone know what's up?
Oh, hey, Timmy.
Yeah, Gibbs wants to get a jump on Jimmy's bridal registry.
Ziva's thinking his-and-her salad tongs.
At the moment, I can think of nothing but coffee.
Ask and ye shall receive.
Oh, Ducky, you are my hero. Yeah, that's me.
The Sir Galahad of caffeinated beverages.
Thanks, Ducky.
It's not every morning that we receive the same mysterious invitation.
Who amongst us knows what awaits?
Well, rise and shine, dear friends.
What the hell was that about?
That, my friend, was a very sweet gesture.
Ducky has been pretty chipper lately.
Old Penelope must be quite the hellcat.
Hey, leave my grandmother out of this.
She and Ducky went on one date. That was it.
Clearly, McGullible, they are sparing you the horrid, torrid details of their racy affair.
I do not know about that.
My sources say that Ducky does have a special lady friend, but, uh, she is a woman that he met on-line a few weeks ago.
Her name's Mary, and according to my sources, Ducky is over the moon.
Ooh.
Wait.
Back the truck up.
Who are these sources?
Mine haven't said anything.
Perhaps you do not have sources.
Or your sources are lousy.
Uh, exsqueeze me, guys.
Very Special Agent here.
I got sold gold sources coming out the yang.
I do not know what or where your yang is, but perhaps your sources do not trust you with internal gossip.
Nobody keeps a secret like me.
Then if your sources are reliable, then perhaps we should compare notes.
Bring it, David. Mum's the word.
I got three for you, DiNozzo.
Reservist versus semi.
Let me guess who won.
Accident, boss?
Yeah. Hoping.
Let's go.
Who are these little birds that told you of my personal affair?
Well, I can't divulge my sources, Ducky, but, of course, one of them was of the Israeli parrot variety.
So much for trusting you.
You did not even last 30 minutes.
Last? Wait a second. What are we talking about?
All we've heard, Ducky, is that you met a woman on-line and that her name is Mary.
Dr. Mary Courtney.
She's chief administrator of a whole host of social service programs throughout DC.
There's a dating Web site dedicated to every demographic.
Doctors, dancers, Civil w*r reenactors.
Uh, ScholarDate is dedicated to, um...
Eggheads. Big brains.
Smart people.
It's how I met Breena.
Seems to have scored for Dr. Mallard, as well.
I did not take you for the computer dating type, Ducky.
Well, I was dubious at first, but after a whirlwind of computer chats, phone conversations, and three delightful luncheons, it's dinner at her place tonight.
She's making her world-famous paella.
Ugh! Paella.
Named, of course, for Paellas the Aztec god of sex after 60.
DiNozzo?
Mm.
Sorry, boss.
Thanks.
Victim's a Naval reservist.
Lieutenant Jason Simms, 44, from Fairfax.
Witnesses say he was swerving all over the road, clearly drunk.
Pulled off onto the shoulder over there.
You got a time?
A little over three hours ago.
Tony?
4:19, to be precise.
The truck tapped his wrist, apparently.
Being drunk is one thing, but why would he have crossed the road?
Suppressing chicken joke in three, two... Cell phone?
MIA.
Not on him, or in his car.
Well, then, that's where he was headed.
The lieutenant was in trouble.
Adhesive on both his wrists.
Was he bound?
Unless he had a cocktail taped to each hand, I'd say there's a great deal more here than meets the eye.
What do you got, Duck?
Chasing a hunch.
The victim's dermis is oddly loose for a man of his musculature.
Hey, Gibbs, so the tox results are gonna take awhile, but get this.
This guy's blood alcohol level was only point-zero-five.
Not drunk.
Not legally.
And certainly not as plowed as the witnesses said he was.
He diabetic?
I wondered that myself, because diabetics can seem drunk if their numbers are all wacky, but his blood sugar is normal, too.
So, why take on a highway?
Ah, as I thought.
Water intoxication.
Drunk on water?
Yeah, 1, 960 grams.
Whoa, that is, like, a pound too heavy.
Well, that would explain the skin texture.
Hey, look, there's the excess accumulation in the extracellular spaces of his brain.
Hmm.
See here, Jethro.
No. No, I believe you, Duck.
Brain cells can't keep up with large volumes of water consumed over a short period of time.
They lose their ability to absorb...
Duck, that make him seem loaded?
Well, seeming intoxicated was the least of his problems, Jethro.
Well, prior to his near-miss with the truck, our lieutenant here was well on the way to drowning in his own skin.
Yeah. Listen, I got to go.
Hey there, Jenn.
You know, you are doing a great job.
Keep it up, you'll be a special agent in no time.
Little young, Tony.
Ease up, Nanny McFeeble. I'm just giving the kid a little vote of confidence.
Yeah, McGee. If Tony was flirting, he would be complimenting her blouse and not her work ethic.
See? Ziva knows.
What we just witnessed here was, um, a pathetic attempt to cultivate new sources for office gossip.
That is completely unfair.
Life isn't fair, DiNozzo. That's why we're here. Go.
Lieutenant Jason Simms, served in the first Gulf w*r, Naval Reservist since '02.
Divorced, two kids. Currently owns a mailbox franchise in West Springfield.
According to his employees, Simms left work at about 6:30 last night, after having an argument with his ex-wife by cell phone.
Records?
There were two calls to his ex, actually, 15 minutes apart.
Last calls he made.
Credit cards?
No unusual hits, but I'm checking for earlier activity.
Given the duct tape and the cause of death, is it possible the lieutenant was waterboarded?
Ducky said that close to four gallons were poured down his throat.
Yeah, but where? We do not even know where he was driving from.
McGee?
There's no nav system in his SUV.
I got a skeleton in his closet.
Look at this. Just found an old police report involving Simms and this guy, Phillip Ekkerly.
Works at a g*n shop in Burke.
Police responded to a fight between the two last month, but no charges were filed on either side.
DiNozzo, get that guy in here.
You missed something, Mr. Palmer.
In the area of the lambdoid suture.
Not enough mint jelly?
Lambdoid?
Um...
That's right where his head hit the pavement, isn't it?
It's void of asphalt particulates.
And this hematoma is deeper in color.
Meaning?
Likely incurred before the truck hit him.
Yes, you might get Abby to determine what hit him.
No, that's mine.
Hello, Mary.
Something for me?
Yes, I suppose I could sneak out.
Are you adorable or what?
It's the scrubs.
They match my eyes.
It's my secret w*apon.
Hm. I do love a man in uniform.
What's in the box?
Just D.C.'s finest pastries.
Ah. I was between meetings, and I thought I would share them with you.
You do know that I'm saving room for your world-famous paella.
Oh. So, we're still on?
Oh, yes.
Despite working on a rather compelling case, I wouldn't miss it for the world.
Can't wait to hear all about it.
Minus the gory details, of course.
Jethro!
As in the Jethro?
Yeah. Leroy Jethro Gibbs, allow me to introduce you to my, uh... my...
Mary.
My Mary.
Dr. Mary Courtney.
Donald's told me so much about you.
Yeah? Likewise.
Oh, excuse me.
Oh, naturally, of all days to be on time, they need me at the food bank.
Mary has dedicated her life to social work.
I'm just a suit these days.
All the real work gets done by the volunteers.
Anyway, I'm sorry I have to rush off.
Great meeting you, Jethro.
Any friend of Duck's...
Save room for dinner.
Mm-hmm.
Dinner.
Right.
Pain in my butt is what he was.
Which is why you don't seem too upset to hear Simms is dead?
No, no, no, don't get me wrong, it's a shock, but...
...now I'm never going to see my money.
What money?
Is that what your fight was about last month?
Guy owed me 500 bucks for a mailbox I was keeping at his place.
He owed you for your mailbox?
I was taking my business elsewhere and then he kept my deposit, claiming I had never paid my bill, which I had.
So you went after him.
Other way around.
I was content to let small claims handle it.
He was the one who thought he could scare me with this macho m*llitary crap.
So you duked it out, the cops showed up, but nobody pressed charges?
What can I tell you?
I felt for the guy.
I mean, business is bad.
He's always worried about losing his kids.
I just figured we'd let the dust settle and I'd see my money eventually.
Hmm, and when did you last see him?
Well, that day that we fought.
Why, what happened to him, anyway?
Need to know where you were last night.
I was working at the g*n shop.
Give 'em a call, they'll tell you.
Any thoughts on the head wound?
A few.
Any thoughts on Mary? Come on, spill it, Jimmy.
What's she like? Is she pretty?
What's Ducky like when he's with her?
Well, I haven't met her yet, but she sounds amazing, and Dr. Mallard still hasn't returned since she invited him out to...
Oh, but I have returned, Mr. Palmer, bearing the stomach contents that you were supposed to deliver to Abby.
Oh, Doctor, I was just, uh...
Eliminating the middle man, just so I could have you come visit.
Yeah, and to answer your question, Mary is smart, very attractive, and I am quite smitten.
She also has excellent taste in pastries, which she just brought to me.
Help yourselves.
So you're not mad?
Mad? Quite.
Angry? No.
That said, what say we all stick to business from now on, shall we?
I'm with Duck.
Tox results, Abbs?
Tox talk, yes, but first, Ducky was right about the head wound.
It's definitely blunt-force and not caused by the truck.
He was hit hours earlier with something cylindrical like a bat or a pipe.
Knocked out and taped up.
And... drugged.
His tox came back positive for MDMA, or Ecstasy, as the kids call it.
Simms is no kid, Abbs.
Still, he had, like, three hits worth in him.
Which would undoubtedly contribute to his apparent intoxication. Actually, Doctor, if I may, Ecstasy is more of a stimulant than a depressant, so he would present as euphoric, not drunk.
That euphoria would cause an accelerated heart rate and increased body temperature, resulting in severe dehydration, which naturally would lead to an extreme, unquenchable...
Thirst.
Sadism masquerading as kindness.
The k*ller didn't pump Simms full of water, he fed it to him.
Yeah.
Ecstasy, huh?
We checked Simms' favorite watering holes-- pardon the expression-- and none of them seemed the least bit ravey.
Simms clearly did not take it for a good time.
Maybe somebody slipped it in his drink.
I might know who that someone is.
I was trying to figure out where Simms was last night, and I remembered that he'd made two calls to his ex, but only the first was from his job.
What about the second?
A g*n shop in Burke.
Ekkerly's g*n shop.
Was he there?
Well, his alibi cleared, but just to be sure, I accessed the shop's security system.
Nice.
Punch in tighter, McGee.
So much for Mr. Ekkerly not seeing Simms since last month, huh?
Clear transaction.
It gets better.
It gets worse for him.
Come on, McGee, let's go.
Oh, Mary, that paella was superb.
Well, I did say it was world-famous.
Well, as I was saying, in this case, it appears the subject endangers his victim's life in some way and then proceeds to "save" him by inducing chronic thirst with a hallucinogen and then providing relief with the very water that will lead to death.
Who on earth thinks of these things?
Yes, who indeed?
I must admit a certain perverse fascination with the k*ller's ingenuity.
Ooh, perhaps I should not have admitted so much.
Please forgive me.
There's nothing to forgive.
I mean, I may not share your taste for this kind of thing, but I could listen to you talk about it all night.
That makes one of you.
Though I am a little bit surprised to hear this from a man who just last week was wondering what challenges could possibly await him after having "seen it all."
I did say that, didn't I?
Our second lunch.
I stand corrected, but in truth, it was just a clumsy attempt to inform you of my openness to new things.
The Mallard opus may be lengthy, but I firmly believe the best chapters are yet to be written.
I do like the sound of that.
Is that your mother?
My hero.
She taught me that there's no greater feeling in the world than when helping others.
She nearly caught me helping myself to a kiss.
She would have approved.
I don't see your father anywhere.
Would he have approved?
Let's just dance, shall we?
♪ ♪
NCIS.
New pair of shoes, Ekkerly?
Uh-- I wouldn't.
Okay... what's all this about?
It's about you lying to us.
You guys got this all wrong.
All right, then surprise us.
Grenades?
Surprise.
Okay, I saw Simms yesterday.
So what?
It doesn't mean that I k*lled him.
You just used him to ship and receive these RKG-3 Soviet antitank grenades.
Collectors pay top dollar.
So do t*rrorists.
Homeland Security can't wait to talk to you.
I'm not a t*rror1st.
Okay?
That story about you guys fighting over 500 bucks.
It's not a total lie.
All right, first, he wanted more money, but then he wanted out.
Of course, by that time, both of us were in too deep, which is why neither of us pressed charges.
He was really worried about losing his kids.
How much did you pay him?
Last night?
$300.
Pretty eager to spend it, too.
He invited me to have a drink with him.
But I don't mix business with pleasure.
You know where he was headed?
Little joint called The Old Horse on Route 6.
We have a witness who says Simms was here.
I don't know.
Look, I just don't like getting involved.
Oh.
Sure, he had a couple beers, chatted up a few ladies as usual.
I guess he bounced at, like, I don't know, 10:00, 10:30.
Alone?
Look, I'm their bartender, not their mom.
All right, wait.
Hey, Lana, you know if G.I. Jay got lucky last night?
Doubtful.
Not for lack of trying.
Yeah, well, guy's got a reputation with the ladies.
Yeah, we've heard.
Then you have no idea how a guy like Simms would get his hands on some Ecstasy.
That guy?
Yeah, uh, he's not exactly the Ecstasy type.
Like I said, he has a couple drinks and works on the women.
There a problem?
Hey.
Let me go!
You don't want to fight.
Oh!
We have a winner.
Those aren't mine.
Well, they came from your pocket.
Let me guess:
That's not your apron.
They're for personal use, all right?
I hardly ever talked to that Jason guy, let alone give him any.
You never took his order?
Never had an a* to grind?
Ask anyone.
I avoided him like a redneck relative and he stuck to girls more his own age.
Anyone ever have it out for Simms?
Maybe... they slipped you a few extra bucks, put a few tabs in his beer?
Please.
I would never.
Well, I'm gonna find out soon enough anyway.
How...?
We're gonna compare your X with what was found inside Simms.
I've got people, Lana, who can take this hair of yours and test it and they can tell me whether your mother smoked regular or menthol.
You wouldn't believe how many cases I'm finding of kids dropping X at parties, only to water themselves to death.
What I can't believe is that you totally blabbed about Ducky's girlfriend, and I told you that in the strictest confidence.
Well, I-I didn't blab.
Okay? It was more like Ziva and I comparing notes.
And I did not give you up as my source.
Let me get this straight.
Abby is your source?
What's the big secret?
You've been my source on plenty of stuff.
Um, well, not for gossip.
Sorry, Tony-- I mean, I can't tell you things
'cause you totally blab.
Kind of like some other people that I find myself suddenly disappointed in.
How could I have fallen so far down the trust ladder?
Not a ladder, DiNozzo.
More like a step stool.
Abbs?
Um, no Ecstasy results yet, but the mud on Simms' wheel wells might be able to tell us where he went after he left the bar.
The basic elements are ultisols, or Virginia red clay, and it's mixed in with various animal scat and these egg casings from Orconectes rusticus.
Commonly known as the rusty crayfish.
How common?
Oh, not at all.
They're native to Midwest waters, and they're nonindigenous to Virginia.
Abby, can I check something?
Boss, that mud would come from a very specific location.
We got something here.
Recent infestation of rusty crayfish discovered in a stream at Leesylvania State Park.
Doesn't say where exactly.
That's over 500 acres.
It's going to take awhile to narrow down.
The highway Simms was k*lled on runs right past that park.
That's a toll road, with toll plazas.
With cameras. Go on.
So how was dinner last night, Dr. Mallard?
Nothing like a good paella, huh?
Am I wrong in detecting a certain air of wistfulness in your efforts to find out about Mary, Mr. Palmer?
Just looking out for you, I guess.
Really?
I must admit that after the death of my dear mother, I fell into a rather... a personal funk.
Mm. Miss the house?
Not especially.
Oddly enough, I miss the dogs.
But, as I was saying, when it comes to matters of romantic cardiology, it is my heart to break, not yours.
I-I know that, Doctor.
I-I'm sorry.
Then what are we really talking about?
Is this about Breena perhaps?
Your impending nuptials?
Okay...
I suppose with changes in my personal life, I could always count on a stable work environment.
And now, suddenly, things seem to be changing for you as well, and I...
Change is inevitable and necessary, like the seasons, Mr. Palmer.
I suggest you embrace it.
I will. Thank you.
♪ Ducky's in love ♪
♪ Ducky's in love, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Ducky's... ♪
Sorry.
Stuck in my head.
I just can't shake that tune.
It's actually "Chuck E's In Love"--
Rickie Lee Jones.
1979.
I don't know it, or him.
Rickie Lee's a her, Chuck E's a him.
Chucky?
I thought it was Ducky.
Talk to me.
Boss, there are two toll plazas feeding into Leesylvania State Park.
Simms had to pass through one to get there.
Those crayfish any help?
According to Park Service, the stream where they were found is in the northwest corner of the park.
Toll's about a mile from there.
Got something.
Gibbs, that's Simms.
Does Nature call, boss?
If she's calling, we're answering.
Let's go catch something.
Ugh... I'm allergic to something out here.
You ever see The Boy in the Plastic Bubble?
1976.
Travolta in a Habitrail with the dad from The Brady Bunch.
Was this pre- or post-Barbarino?
Post, I think. You should look it up on Netflix.
I think you'll relate.
What was he allergic to?
Everything.
All he could do was sit in his plastic bubble and peer out the window at the cutie next door.
Sounds like your perfect day, Tony.
I am feeling a little itchy.
Not really.
Gibbs, over here.
McGee.
Running the plate now.
The car is empty.
I'll call a tow truck.
Car's registered to a Samuel Alcott of Falls Church, Virginia.
You got a phone number?
You can call, but I don't think he's gonna answer.
Not your typical tree hugger.
Duct tape...
...nibbled by wildlife.
Perhaps the stream provided the water.
Endless refills.
This Alcott?
Thirsty victim number two.
He's chewed up pretty good.
Been here a while.
Something tells me we may be looking at victim number one.
I hate to say serial k*ller.
Well, you said it.
I'm thinking it.
Same blunt force to knock him out, duct tape on the wrists, sloughing of the skin.
And we can assume the same Ecstasy.
Everything's the same, Mr. Palmer.
But let's not get ahead of ourselves with talk of serial K*llers.
Time of death?
Well, from what I can make out, it's been several days.
Before Simms.
Most certainly.
The main difference being that Simms managed to escape to his car before meeting his end.
I would surmise that the first k*lling went according to plan.
The second, not so much.
As far as we know, there's a third out there somewhere.
You all right, Doctor?
My fascination with this case was premature.
It's you again.
Forgive me, Mary.
No need to expose you to my foul mood.
You know, as my Aunt Beatrice always said,
"If it'll make us sad, then talking's bad."
Oh, she was terrific... till the shingles got her.
I'm sure that Mary will understand if you...
Doctor?
I was reminded of something last night, Mr. Palmer, which you will one day learn.
If you want to keep your home a pure and happy place, it's best to keep the gory details far away from it.
Samuel Alcott, 42-year-old building contractor.
He was married with two kids.
Reservist?
No, but his wife is active duty.
She's currently serving her third Marine tour in Afghanistan.
Make that his estranged wife.
Lieutenant Jolene Alcott has been legally separated from Sam for the last six months.
Their children live with her mother.
You spoke to her?
Yeah.
She said the distance was too hard on the marriage.
They attended counseling, but Sam ultimately left her to pursue another woman.
Okay, Alcott's last credit-card pop was three nights ago at a place called Hairy Toody's Café in Reston.
Manager said that he went up, had a burger at the bar, chatted up a few of the ladies, and then left alone.
Sounds familiar.
Oh-- makes two dead cheaters with m*llitary ties, of course.
Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs.
Abbs, I'm right here.
Sorry, I'm just a little ecstatic, like the stuff from Lana the waitress, which turned out to be pretty weak.
It was 100 milligrams MDMA that was cut with baby aspirin.
Street name-- Hatchethead.
The Ecstasy that Simms was dosed with was pure 130 milligrams MDMA, no additives.
Street name-- Hammer and Sickle.
Damn Commies.
So, no match.
No.
The dr*gs that the k*ller used did not come from Lana.
Your X didn't k*ll these guys, Lana.
But this one did.
You know, you may be cleared for m*rder, but you still have to answer for the possession charge.
Who sells those?
I want a deal.
Oh, come on. I watch TV.
You guys must swing deals like this all the time.
Oh, here-- these are Hammer and Sickles.
Randy's famous for them. It's primo E.
Randy, huh?
Okay, so I'm bad at this.
Look, I can still cut a deal for his last name, though, can't I?
Please?
Jonas, the name is Randy Jonas.
Virginia state parole records indicate he's a patient here.
Who are you again?
NCIS Special Agents DiNozzo and McGee.
Sorry to wake you.
Yeah, well, it's way past visitors' hours.
We're investigating Jonas' connection to a series of murders involving Ecstasy he may have sold.
Must be Hammer and Sickles, right?
He's known for those.
That's kind of why we're here.
Wish I could help you, fellas, but since Randy's in for court-ordered drug treatment, technically, he's under state jurisdiction, so...
Yeah, I don't think the state will mind.
Yeah, but my boss will.
The supervisors here are real sticklers for protocol.
I'm under strict orders-- nobody out, nobody in.
Let me guess, you're alumni here, aren't you?
Yeah.
Can we speak to your supervisors?
Ooh, um...
In the morning?
They don't really like me bothering them at night, uh...
I bet they don't like hearing from you any time.
No, they don't, yeah.
You know, Randy's in the first week of his month sentence.
Can't you come back?
Did you say he's been here one week?
Yeah.
Meaning he's not our k*ller.
Still could have supplied the dr*gs.
Donald, you had me worried.
You didn't answer your phone.
I'm sorry, darling, I-I was just trying to spare you the ill effects of what has been a trying day.
Oh...
Well, then, let me make it better.
Red or white?
Oh, whatever you're having.
Thank you.
Oh, what's all this?
Baskets for kids at a homeless shelter in Edgewood.
I still have a few to go.
Would you like to help?
Oh, very much so.
That is, after you've rested for a bit, and told me all about your day.
Forget my day.
What was yours like?
That's not how this works.
My day was fine, and if yours wasn't, I take it as a personal challenge to make it better.
So start talking.
Yeah, well, suffice it to say I most certainly erred in expressing my fascination at Simms' k*ller.
This is your water person.
He's delivered another victim.
But in doing so, he snapped me back to the reality of what a sadistic bastard he is.
Sick, twisted, vicious, and there's nothing novel about what he does.
I cited his creativity, when, in fact, he doesn't create a thing-- just destroys... in a heartless and diabolical fashion.
So much for not infecting my personal life with my work.
Why, only today, I was advising my technician, Jimmy Palmer...
Mary?
Are you all right?
You're welcome.
I'm sorry?
You should be.
Saying such horrible things about a person who clearly went to a lot of trouble for you.
This "sadistic bastard" just wanted to help you, Donald.
Show you something you hadn't seen before.
And, believe me... it was not easy.
Believe...?
You...?
Okay, we have two victims-- one m*llitary, the other one, a m*llitary spouse.
Each with a failed marriage.
Neither one of 'em could keep it zipped.
Go ahead. I'm listening.
Well, not the most sympathetic victims.
Perhaps the k*ller believed they deserved to die.
Well, at least they went to counseling.
Should count for something.
Say that again.
Well, they-- I'm just saying they tried to make it work.
Just shows that they weren't complete jerks.
Their counseling-- where?
Two different family service centers.
One in the Palisades and the other one in Capitol Heights.
But on opposite sides of DC.
Both part of the same outreach program for m*llitary families.
Randy Jonas's rehab-- that part of the same outreach program?
Only one way to find out.
McGee-- you got toll booth surveillance on Alcott?
Right here.
Four nights ago, Sam Alcott headed to the park, just like Simms.
Both alone.
But each knowing how to get to that section of the park.
Meaning they were either given directions...
Or they followed someone. Check earlier frames.
The drug rehab facility is part of the same outreach program as the two family service centers.
And each facility is supervised by a handful of administrators.
Got a common face here, boss.
A few cars ahead of Alcott and Simms.
Okay... here's the group from the rehab center.
And here are the two groups from the counseling centers.
All three, one face in common.
Mary.
Ducky's Mary?
Autopsy.
Palmer... where's Ducky?
I know that what I did was extreme, but men like you don't come along very often, Donald.
I wouldn't have done this for just anyone.
Or to just anyone, for that matter.
Simms and Alcott-- why them?
Well... if I was going to show you something you hadn't seen before, then they had to be m*llitary.
And fortunately, our case files are just teeming with deserving candidates.
How many men were you going to k*ll?
k*ll?
No, Donald.
They k*lled themselves.
They drank the water.
Well, getting them to do that could not have been easy.
It did take a little effort.
But these men... they were weak.
Getting them to follow me out of the bar was the easy part.
They took the bait so fast.
And what happened next served them right.
They knew it.
What?
Are you looking to go?
Go where?
Mary, I'm with you.
My father was tricky, too, you know.
He was a real sweet-talker.
But I am not your father, Mary, any more than Simms and Alcott were.
These were not good men, Donald.
Not to you.
And perhaps not to their ex-wives.
But to their children?
To their parents?
They were not murderers, Mary, they were not rapists, any more than you were their judge, jury or executioner.
I didn't mean...
I didn't...
I didn't...
Now, give me the scissors, Mary.
Come on.
NCIS!
Mary, it's all right.
Oh, Donald!
Duck, you all right?
Let me talk to her, Jethro.
I was so close.
I can get her to come out peacefully.
She won't harm me.
Let me in, Mary.
Please?
What did I do, Donald?
Oh, Mary.
Love... can cloud our vision.
Make us see things as we wish to see them.
See things as they are not.
I only wanted you to stay.
I know.
Get an ambulance.
Tony and McGee are with Mary at the emergency room.
She'll be transferred to their psychiatric ward in the morning.
I'm sorry, Ducky.
Me, too.
Thanks, Ziva.
Duck, I wish I had that Yogi Berra book of quotes for any occasion.
You know, Jethro, psychotic behavior is so bizarre, yet I just can't understand how I could have missed it.
I'll never trust my judgment again.
You won't have to, Duck.
We'll trust it for you.
I'll take you home.
Uh, I just want to collect a few things, check my messages.
Come on, Duck, it can wait.
Jethro, do you mind?
I just want to be alone for a moment.
Be upstairs.
Hmm?