Author's Note: This story begins between season 5 and 6 of BtVS/season 2 and 3 of AtS, but I have no idea where to place it in the NCIS canon. Suggestions anyone?
Also, thank you to all the people who have reviewed and rec'ed 'Relative Strangers'. :D
The next morning saw him in the office bright and early. No one was in yet, so he could quietly do a quick search for his supposed daughter. Contrary to popular belief he did know how to use a computer. He was nowhere near Abby and McGee’s level, but he knew how to get basic information on suspects. And this was the same thing; Faith was just another suspect. Even if her supposed “crime” was being his out of wedlock daughter.
Jethro used his security clearance to gain access to the search engines, and typed “Faith Lehane” and “Boston” in the appropriate fields. This would at the very least prove that she was who she claimed to be.
The screen obediently gave him the information he was looking for. She was born Faith Rodriguez to Christine Rodriguez and an unknown father on December 14th, 1980 in South Boston, Massachusetts. Her surname had been legally changed to Lehane in July, 1986 following an adoption by Samuel David Lehane – her mother’s new husband. So far the letter had been correct.
He did some quick math in his head and came to the conclusion that he’d had to have met Christine sometime in February that same year, but he still couldn’t remember her. It was strange, he had never been one for one night stands so any woman he’d had sex with was easily remembered. On the flip side he really had been in Boston at the time, and he and some Marine buddies had been celebrating. Celebrations that had included a number of bars. Crap.
Jethro had married Shannon in 1980, and they had been dating for nearly four years by then. He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands, he had cheated on Shannon. Shannon
. Her smiling face flashed before his eyes and those lively and sympathetic green eyes changed into betrayal and disappointment.
After forcing his eyes open again he went back to his search. He needed more information before he continued down that road. Solid facts, he needed solid facts
A quick inquiry got him Faith’s arrest records from the Northern Californian Woman’s Facility. As his eyes tracked the text on the screen it confirmed the more serious part of the letter: Faith Lehane had turned herself in after the police had sent out a warrant for her, and had subsequently confessed to a horrific list of violence.
On a somewhat positive note, she had said the original murder had been an accident and she had reacted in self-defense after several people had tried to attack her. Apparently a group of men had tried to mug her in a dark alley, and when the victim had entered it shortly afterwards she had attacked believing him to be one of those men. The man had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time.
It seemed that the court had believed her on that account.
The second murder and the torture, on the other hand, were definitely premeditated. There was also a list of people she had attacked for no reason, including several young men at a dance club.
The parts that surprised Jethro the most, however, was that the torture victim, a British national named Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, had testified in Faith’s defense in court. Mr. Wyndham-Pryce had also claimed that Faith had been his ward for a short time while he was living in Sunnydale, California. To his great annoyance there was no explanation as to why he got custody or why he lost it.
The prosecution had also tried to charge her with attempted murder of an Angel O’Connor, but those charges fell through when the man in question denied it. Mr. O’Connor had also testified in her defense.
Jethro fished the letter out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket and re-read it, and as he was about to put it down on his desk he noted that it was dated. In a small script in the upper right-hand corner was the date June 13th, 2000
. Right below it was the words ‘Stockton, California
He blinked. The letter had circulated within the postal service for two years before reaching him.
He had just put his hands back on the keyboard when he heard the elevator ding, followed by a cheerful “morning, Boss!” from DiNozzo. He surreptitiously put Faith’s letter in a drawer, signed out of the search engines, and closed the browser before he greeted the other agent.
It was going to be a long day, and on top of that he needed to decide on what he was going to do about Faith. Should he send a letter asking for more information, call, or ignore it all together?
The only way to find out for sure if this killer was his daughter was to get her to agree to a DNA test, and in order for that to happen he needed to get to know her a little. If for nothing else than his own peace of mind.
Another problem was that she had sent the letter two years ago, and at this point she had probably given up on him. Or at least probably thought it hadn’t reached him and given up on contacting him.
His mind was still spinning with questions when the call came that they had a new case, and they all hurried off to the crime scene.