NCIS (2003–…): Season 7, Episode 19 - Guilty Pleasure - full transcript

Brett Lee the quarterback
is dating Stacy Miller?

I swear to God, I saw his hand
on her butt, walking to French.

Can we please talk
about something else?

How about anything else?

Look at this picture
I found on her Facebook page.

She's so nasty.

(laughs)
Ooh...

Skanky and ugly.

Skugly.

Look out!

I-I swear, I
barely hit him.

Oh, my God.

Let's go check.
I can't believe this.

(girl gasps)

BOY: Whoa!
Oh, my God.
Did I do that?

No.

He's been stabbed.

Call 911.

Get off Facebook
and dial!

(gasping):
Okay...

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Good morning, Tony.

Is it, Tim?

Well, I don't see
why it wouldn't be.

What's wrong?
You stood me up last night.

No, I didn't.
You did.

No, I did not, Tony.
What is today?

Today is the day

after the night when you
were supposed to meet me

at the bar at the
Air and Space Museum.

Are you two dating now?

No. Tony is using me
as his pimp.

I went to college with a girl
who works at the museum.

Ms. Lunar Modules.
That's her specialty.

Tony wants me
to introduce them.

To fix them up.

Tony needs help with a woman?

No. I needed a
geek wingman.

McGeek qualifies.

See that, Tony?

This shows that tomorrow night

is when we're supposed
to get together, okay?

I sent you 15 texts.

I sat there for three hours.

I waited for you.
I called.

I was in the bathtub.

Why do you do that?

Every morning
I come in here,

you get one of the donuts
with the sprinkles on it,

and you spend half an hour
picking all those sprinkles off.

Yeah? What's your point?

Why don't you just buy one
without the sprinkles?

Why don't you just stay
out of my business?

It's part of my ritual.
What do you care?

(blowing)

And the little
huffing and puffing...

What, are you trying
to blow the coffee down?

Why not one
long blow?

(cell phone rings)

DiNozzo.

Hey, DiNozzo. It's McGee.

Listen, I have to cancel
tomorrow night.

Have a good day.

(laughing)

(ringing)
Not answering.

Answer it.

Nope.

You and me, McGee--

we're done.

No argument here.

You know what,
you two?

I have actually
heard of this.

You two are having
a seven-year bitch.

Itch. And yes, we are.

You two are like
a married couple.

Oh, no, they're not.
They're still speaking.

Let's go.
Grab your gear.

Got a dead sailor in Norfolk.

McGEE: Victim is Navy
Lieutenant Justin Moss.

Worked for the Office
of Public Affairs.

Married, no children.

This is his house.
First he gets stabbed,

then he's hit by a car.
That's a rough day.

DUCKY:
Yeah, well, whoever stabbed him
used a big knife.

Like a combat knife
or a kukri.

Kukri?
Yeah.

It's a weapon used by
the Gurkhas to great effect.

Though I doubt a Gurkha
had anything to do with this.

Well, the kids
in the car say that Moss

wandered into the street.

You check his house?

Ziva's in there now.
Looked clean.

No blood.
Wife's not at home.

Blood drop pattern
does indicate

that he was walking
toward his house, boss.

Well, severe loss of blood
can lead to disorientation.

It's well documented.

There was a case in New York--
the victim of a car crash.

He staggered home,
went to bed,

and he woke
the next morning to find

his left hand missing.

Maybe he was a righty.

He bled to death, Duck.

Yeah. Not here.

Our lieutenant
was stabbed elsewhere.

His clothes are soaked, but
there's no blood on the road.

It's not our crime scene, huh?

No, afraid not.

TONY:
Blood trail heads up the hill.

Go.

Hey, McGee. Go.

Together?

Yeah, together. Go.

Hey.

Why'd the dead guy
cross the road?

To get home.

Yeah. You were funnier
when you were fatter.

Well, well.
What do we have here?

Well, I guess we've
found our crime scene.

Got I.D.'s?
Hey.

NCIS.

Thanks.
Mm-hmm.

Here's our blood trail all
the way through the forest

to a motel...

DiNozzo. McGee.

I was wondering when you
were going to show up.

Dispatcher said NCIS
wasn't far away.

Detective McCadden.

We got a body if you
got a crime scene.

Quid pro quo, Clarice.

Whoa.
Silence of the Lambs.

Nice movie reference.

(slurping)

And a nice Chianti.

Yeah, we're going
to need everything

you've processed so far.

He knows the
drill, Tim.

What do you got, McC?

Follow me.

McC...

(DiNozzo whistles)

Looks like something
out of Kill Bill.

Volume 1.
Volume 1.

Nice.

Room was rented
to Justin Moss.

That's our victim.

Housekeeping called it in
when they found the mess.

Found a few hair samples.

No prints, but...
got a wine bottle

and a couple of glasses.

(tires screeching outside)
Dead guy had company.

OFFICER: Ma'am...
WOMAN: Justin?!

OFFICER: Ma'am, this is
a secured area!

Justin?
OFFICER:
Ma'am, stay back.

Justin?! Oh, my God!
Ma'am...

Ma'am, we're going to have
to ask you to step back.

This is a crime scene.

I'm Emily Moss. Where's my
husband? What happened?

Your husband is
Lieutenant Justin Moss?

Yes. I was supposed
to come pick him up.

He was meeting someone here.

Do you know who?

Of course.
He was with a prostitute.

I just don't understand
how this could have happened.

If that tramp touched my
husband, I'm going to kill her.

But you knew he was meeting
with an escort.

Yes.

Justin was a reporter
for the Navy Herald.

He was doing a piece

on high-priced
call girls in Norfolk.

ZIVA: So, he was interviewing
escorts for his story.

Justin wanted to write

about how they lived,
how they worked,

how Norfolk's Navy population
influenced their business.

He was very professional
about it.

Did he, by any chance,
give you the name of,

uh, the woman
he was interviewing?

No, but he'd spoken
with her a few times.

So, it was

an ongoing assignment?

Justin would never
cheat on me.

If that's what
you're implying...

No, ma'am.
Um, absolutely not.

Navy Lieutenant Justin Moss:
Clean service record;

no criminal activity;
worked as a journalist

for the Navy Herald as
well as his assignment

at Norfolk Naval Air Base.

How about the woman
he was with?

McGEE: She's still
unidentified.

According to Moss's
banking records,

he made a $1,000 cash withdrawal

just before meeting her
in the motel room.

Journalists don't pay
for interviews.

Well, two more withdrawals
were made

in the same amount
in the last month.

Wonder what a grand buys you
these days.

Anyway...

I'm looking at Moss's
date planner here, boss.

The dates of his
cash withdrawals

correspond to days
he met with his source.

All previous meetings have been

at a bar in Norfolk
called The Liberty Square.

Check the security
cameras from the bar.

We need an I.D.
on our missing woman.

TONY:
Maybe the wife
put an end

to her husband's
investigative probing

with a steak knife.

The bad stuff
is easier to believe.

That's a line from Pretty Woman.

I have a call in to Justin's
editor at the Navy Herald.

Take McGee with you.

ZIVA: Mm-hmm.
DiNozzo.

Look into any similar homicides
in the Norfolk area

in the past 12 to 18 months.
Will do, boss.

Go with McCadden. I want you two
working together on this.

Ah. I like that.

Murdered?!

Huh-- I'm surprised
your newspaper's

not already
covering it.

McGEE:
Lieutenant Moss was writing
a story on escorts in Norfolk?

Yeah. Justin
was fascinated.

He had this grand idea

to turn the article
into some in-depth exposé.

Well, we're going to need a copy
of the story and any notes--

He hadn't turned
anything in yet.

Did you know that he was paying
to spend time with her?

It's not uncommon
for a reporter

to throw around a few bucks
to get a story.

Moss paid $1,000
every time they met.

The lines between
business and pleasure

can sometimes
get blurred.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I need to get back to work.

Deadlines.

Yes. Lieutenant Moss met his.

Yeah.

Abby?

No time for small talk, Gibbs.
There's way to much to tell.

I only said
"Abby," Abby.

Well, now you've
said it thrice.

I have been scrubbing through
the motel security footage.

It's grainy
and it's from far away,

but you can see a female-ish
hunk of pixels coming...

...and then going,
an hour later.

Plenty of time
for a little hanky-panky

with our dead journalist
before she killed him.

Oh, if she did it.

And by "did it," I mean
"if she killed him,"

not "did it" like
"if she did it."

You got her name?

Okay, motel footage?
Not so hot.

But the footage that
McGee got from the bar--

muy caliente.

Using Moss' calendar,

I was able to match a previous
date and time of a meeting

between the lieutenant
and our mystery woman, thus...

Voilà.

Her face on file?

Charlotte Cook.

She was busted for prostitution
two years ago.

If you get me
a DNA sample,

I could match that to the hairs
that we found in the motel,

and we can put her
at the crime scene.

She's been arrested before
and her DNA's not on file?

Yeah. She must have had
a really good lawyer.

She was bailed out
in a heartbeat

and all the charges
were dropped.

Gibbs.

Guess who she
used to work for?

Holly Snow.

The former DC madam.

You should talk to her, Gibbs.

Look, she's
giving seminars

on sexual harassment
to government employees

as part of her plea deal.

Right. Community service.

I guess she... she would know
a lot about sex, huh?

And harassment.
Uh-huh.

I don't think
I could be an escort.

I'm really friendly

and-and I'm a really
good listener

and I like men,

but... Ooh.

Abby?
Yes?

Find Charlotte Cook.

Right.

Bullitt.
Escape from Alcatraz.

I'm tempted
to go with Dirty Harry.

But I'm going to say the best
film set in San Francisco is...

Vertigo.

Phil. Finally,
somebody gets it.

Hey, they're showing
a restored print of Road Warrior

in Norfolk on Friday.
You want to go?

(in deep voice):
Just walk away.

I'll spare your lives
for that tank of gas.

Humungus.
Yes, we're going!

Detective McCadden...

You can call him "McC."
(sighs)

These show that you have

unsolved homicides

of a similar nature
to this one.

Three previous murders
in Norfolk

in the past six months.

All males,
all stabbed in the back.

And all with the same
wound patterns.

You have a multiple offender.

We have a multiple
offender.

Yeah!
Yeah!

Ah! Jethro!

Now, the only pertinent
news I have for you

is that our reporter
did not have relations

with his escort
before his death.

He wasn't paying for it, Duck?

Her time, yes;
her body, no.

He was telling
his wife the truth.

Our missing woman could be
killing off her clients.

Why?

Robbery, revenge,
resentment.

I don't think
you can rule out fetish.

(phone rings)
Yeah, McGee.

Boss, Charlotte Cook
moved out of her apartment

eight months ago.

There's no credit card trail,

no phone in her legal name.

She is off the grid.

Women interpret things
differently than men.

A glance...

a smile...

can all be taken
in different ways.

We have to be careful
what we say and how we say it...

as some of my former clients
could easily attest.

(laughter)

However, the, uh,

the importance
of maintaining a...

(clears throat)

...comfortable workplace
cannot be downplayed.

Something I've always taken
seriously,

regardless of what line
of work I was in.

Why don't we go ahead and take
a, um, ten-minute break?

That was interesting.

Um...
Thanks.

you're welcome.
(chuckles)
Yeah.

Agent Gibbs.

Are you checking up on me?

No.

You know I never did thank you
for the jewelry.

I usually prefer
Tiffany's, but, um...

I can wear this
in the bathtub.

Well, I wouldn't
complain, Holly.

Suspended sentence,
no prison time.

You got off pretty easy.

(chuckles)
Yeah, you try not
being able to go

more than two miles
from your home someday.

Oh, I did. Little beach shack
in Mexico called

"retirement."
I liked it.

Oh. And why'd you
jump back in?

Not here
to talk about me.

Why a you here?

I need to find Charlotte Cook.

Well, I'm sorry.

I can't help you.

Part of my sentence

was to stay away
from my former employees.

Why, is she in trouble?

Yeah, she's a suspect
in four murders.

No, no, it's not possible.

I know the women
I used to work with.

Well, then...

you know where she is.

Gibbs, if you couldn't find her,
what makes you think that I can?

Although...

Although...

it's gonna cost me?

Oh, my rates have
always been very reasonable,

Special Agent Gibbs.

I'm just looking
for... a little change of pace.

And this...

(whispering)

That's a deal-breaker.

You need me, Gibbs.

Use me.

Okay.

How do we find her?

Put me back in business.

She'll find me.

You want to do what?!

Don't wantto.
Need to.

A lot of important people
worked very hard

to get Holly Snow her plea deal
so that she would go away.

Well, she's back.

They buried Holly and they

buried her little black book,

and you want to put her
back in business?

Holly gets us Charlotte.

So you think that
when word gets out,

Charlotte's gonna
magically call her?

No, nothing magic about it.

Holly's departure was pretty
high-profile.

People are gonna buy
that she's back?

Think they'll want to.

All right, then what?

Holly arranges a date.

We bust Charlotte
for solicitation.

We bring her in.

Which gives us the right
to test for DNA.

If it matches the hairs
found in the motel room...

We have our killer.

Or we might have someone
that saw him.

Either way, you have leverage
on Charlotte,

and she has
to cooperate.
That's the plan.

Well, that's easier said
than done.

It's sex, Leon.

Ain't nothin' easy about sex.

Am I interrupting?

No, we have hit a lull.

Miss Snow's been back

in business
for one hour.

We received 16 calls,
and none of them are Charlotte.

You know, you would think
United States senators

would use
blocked numbers.

Excuse me. I have to drop
these off to Autopsy.

Hi.

Hi.

I'm Abby Sciuto.

I've been, um, following
your... career.

Am I flattered

or offended?

Um, both.

Love your shoes.
Love your shoes.

(chuckles)
Um, thanks.

They're Manuel
Aris-- Milan.

Makes 'em by hand.

Um, Gothic Sole, made by some

big heavy loud
piece of machinery

in, like, Malaysia.

Is something on
your mind, Abby?

Oh, you have a problem
with my line of work.

Do you have
legal, moral

or women's issues with it?

All of the above.

Yeah, me, too.

And now I'm paying for it.

(phone ringing)

Okay, this one's
a pre-paid cell.

Hello.

WOMAN: I'm sorry, I must have
the wrong number.

Charlotte!

Holly?
It's me.

How are you?!

I'm just fine!
I'm doing well.

Oh, good, good.

So the rumors are true.

Actually, I have somebody

who would be interested
in meeting with you.

Uh, light KB,
possible M-O-X,

half around.

Sounds fun. Where?
The Adams House Hotel.

6:00, Room 1126.

Ask for Eddie at
the concierge desk.

He'll give you
the key.

It's good
to have you back, Holly.

It's good to be back.

I'll call you later.

Okay.
All right. Bye.

It was nice
to meet you, Miss Snow...

I think.

Uh, Miss Snow,

can I ask you
a quick question?

Um, when you told Charlotte
what the client wanted,

you-you mentioned
a couple things:

"KB, M-O-X, half around."
What does that stuff mean?

Check the Internet.

Whoa, not there.
She'll look.

You've taught 'em well.

Mmm, this is DC,
Agent McGee.

Everybody's looking
for dirt on everybody else.

(satisfied sigh)

(clears throat)

What in the world
did you do in there?

Just freshening up.

Actually cut
myself shaving,

if you can believe it.

They got a nice aftershave
in there: jasmine and ginger.

Sure you're not

compensating a little bit
with the jacket and everything?

I saw a photo
of this girl.

She's used to the
upper-echelon clientele.

Picked this up

down in the gift shop.
It's classy.

Take it off, Hef.

And, uh, mess up
your hair a little.

Sweat.

(chuckles)

Sweat?
This place smells
like a setup.

A john acts
like a john, okay?

At these prices, he's not
looking to impress the girl.

He wants to be impressed.

This will kill the mouthwash
smell; please drink it.

That's rich, instructing a
DiNozzo how to act around women.

What's the matter with you?

You start acting like you don't
know what you're doing,

and she's gonna find
an excuse to leave.

Pretend like you've done
this before.

What makes you think
I haven't done this before?

Because you're wearing underwear
straight out of the package.

(scoffs)
You know, that could
have fallen out

of the jacket 'cause it's new
from the gift shop.
Right, right.

Who do you think I am?

I think you're a businessman
pressed for time

looking to have
a little fun

before you get on the train
back to Wilmington.

She's here to make
you forget that
she's an escort.

She's faking; you're not.
You got it?

A woman's never been able
to tell when I was faking.

You gotta ask for
something off-menu,

something spontaneous
that I didn't approve.

She'll call me.

She won't be able to reach me,

and rather than refuse
the job...

Right.
Right.

So what exactly
am I asking for?

McGEE:
Here's you earwig.

I'll let you know.

TONY: Testing-- this is
Very Special Agent DiNozzo.

McGEE:
We're good.

This had better work.

Is that a threat?

(knocking on door)

TONY:
Come on in.

Wow! Guess you're not
room service, huh?

Now, listen...

Shut up!
(grunts)

It's fun to watch.

CHARLOTTE:
You've been a bad boy.

Oh!

HOLLY:
Tony,

tell her you want
to change the menu.

I want to change the menu.

You want the spicy Canton.

The what?

Pardon?

I want the spicy Canton.

Please?

Let me make a call.

Okay, put the envelope
on the table

and go into the bathroom.

Hey, I'm just, uh...

Daddy's gonna make wee-wee.

Did he just really say that?

Yeah, that's him
improvising.

Oh.

HOLLY:
You've reached my voicemail.
Please leave a message.

(Charlotte's phone
beeps off)

McGEE:
Okay, she's taking the money.

Charlotte Cook,

NCIS.

You're under arrest.

It's not what
you think, Char.

(handcuffs clicking)
Then what is it, Holly?

I trusted you.

I know.

Char, I'm sorry.

Well, I guess she'll never
know what she missed.

Or how lucky she is.

I'm just going to take
a cold shower, boss.

Whoo.

(sighs)

(door opening)

Special Agent Gibbs, your
little sting was entrapment.

Come on. We're leaving.

Sit down, Dwight.

Ms. Cook did nothing wrong.

She's a prostitute.

Was a prostitute.

She thought the envelope
that she found was lost.

She intended on
turning it back in.

You have no grounds
on which to hold my client.

How about murder?

Four murders to be exact.

I've also got your client

meeting with
Lieutenant Justin Moss.

Hair, found at the motel
where he was killed,

matches your client's.

You were the last one
to see Moss alive.

So she was there.
Circumstantial.

These three were clients,
but not the reporter.

We just talked.

He was nice enough,
so I didn't mind.

No one had ever wanted
to know my story before,

and I just wanted...

Stop talking.

What happened at
the motel?

You say something to Moss
you shouldn't have?

Don't. Charlotte.

I didn't kill anybody.

You know what? We're gonna
need a few moments, please.

Who charges more, Dwight,
you or her?

Yeah?

Hey, you can take all the time
you need. She's staying.

On what charges?

No charges.

GIBBS:
Material witness.

Hey-- coffee?
Cream, two sugars.

(chuckles)

I can't be bought, Gibbs.

I'm sorry.
Judge's orders.

Charlotte's not your killer.

How do you know that?

I know people.

That's what I get paid for.

Were paid for.

Look, I've been
with the violent ones.

She's not one of them.

So aren't you going to ask?

How'd a nice girl like me,
blah, blah, blah?

No.
No?

No.

Oh, come on, you
know you want to.
No.

I don't care.

Oh, he doesn't care.

Somebody approached me
when I was at Wellesley.

I was an art history major.

Big student loans.

No family.

And I was working
three jobs.

Then I found out
how much I could make

in another line of work.

Hmm.

And they say you
can't make money

with a liberal arts degree.

(chuckles)

I didn't know you
had a sense of humor.

Oh, there's a lot
you don't know about me, Holly.

You just think you do.

I know Charlotte's innocent.

(phone ringing)

Yeah, Gibbs.

Boss, just got another call
from McCadden.

Norfolk PD found another body.

Same M.O., same murder weapon.

Same killer.

Yeah, but the time of death
was two hours ago,

while Charlotte Cook
was in our custody.

Well, you were right,
Holly Snow.

TONY:
Thanks.

All right, favorite film
finale set in a factory, Phil.

Mm... Terminator.

Evil Arnie gets crushed
by the industrial press.

Yeah, yeah.

I like Terminator 2,
where the T-1000

falls into the vat
of molten steel

and then heroic Arnie
follows suit.

Might be better.

Well, if it isn't T-Cad.

What?
T-Cad.

It's what I'm calling
you guys now.

You know, the cute
couples contraction?

TomKat, Bennifer,

Brangelina?

Yeah, we got it,
McBitter.

You two are wearing
the same suit even.

Nice.

(chuckles)

Building security
found the body.

No blood.
Looks like he was dumped.

Multiple stab wounds
to the back.

We've definitely got
a fifth victim.

Wounds on his arm, chest.
Guy wasn't easy to take out.

Put up a fight.
Killer had to be strong.

We're probably
looking for a male.

Or Ziva.

(laughing)

Your victim's

got a rap sheet.

Busted for solicitation.

You know,
one of Charlotte's clients.

Call that into Gibbs.

Come on, Phil.

Let's get something to eat.
Yeah, sounds good.

TONY:
You ever see Diner?

(door opening)

It's a nicer room
this time.

You recognize
your mistakes,

Agent Gibbs?

No mistake.
Just being thorough.

This won't take long.

Well, it's going to take

as long as I say
it's going to take.

Another one of your
johns, Charlotte.

This is ridiculous.

She's innocent.

You're her alibi.

Five men are dead.

The only thing they have
in common is you.

You need to tell us
everything you can.

Wait.
She has no authority here.

She's here to help your client.

Somebody's
following you.

If you keep
seeing clients,

he will keep killing.

So you really got out, huh?

Took a bunch of courage.

I couldn't do it.

Give us a name.

Someone who's gotten physical.

Honey, you can trust me.

She is not giving you
the names of men

that can testify against her.

Nice try, though.
Am I talking
to you?

Your stupidity is gonna
get somebody else killed.

(sighs)

Charlotte, this is about you.

Do you think that
he's gonna stop with them?

He gets mad at you,

you'll end up the same way.

Uh... Nicholas.

I'm not sure what
his last name was.

50's, bald.

Said he worked for
the State Department.

I met him right after
you got arrested.

He plays rough.

Crazy jealous.

He wanted me to stop
seeing other men.

Make them think
they're the only ones?

Sometimes they believe it.

Yeah.

Nicholas--

you know him?

Yeah.

But you'll never believe how.

Okay, slow it down.

I always remember
the clingy ones.

Lots of questions.
Not enough personal space.

There.

That's him.

Freeze it, McGee.

McGEE:
All right, name tag.

It's a lot easier
than a BOLO.

Did you get my
Nutter Butters?

Oh, hey, slim Tim.
Forgot about that.

Sorry.

I'll bet you did.

You used to get
my Nutter Butters.

You taking a little break,
are you, DiNozzo?

Uh, just a little
low blood sugar.

Just grabbing a snack, boss.
I'm back.

Already got
a hit on him, boss.

Who's Nicholas Everett?

That's what you're
going to find out,

and I want everything.

Let's go, Holly.

Where are we going?

I'm taking you home.

Oh! And tucking me in?

McCADDEN:
Wow.

Holly Snow in person.

Best call girl movie ever?

Klute.

Sutherland, nice.
Mm-hmm.

Leaving Las Vegas.

So you heard
about T-Cad?

(laughs)
Tony's new bromance.

Oh, honey, don't worry.

It'll be over soon.

I don't care when it's over.

It can go forever
as far as I'm concerned.

Oh, somebody needs a hug.

I need a lead.

Oh, really?

'Cause I found
our killer's blood.

How's that for
a case-cracker?

Guess where?

No, really. Like, I
want you to guess.

On the knife?
No. Guess again.

Abby...

I found trace amounts

inside the stab wounds
of our latest victim.

You got a name?

I ran the DNA
through the database.

Nothing in
the system.

But... guess what
McGee found?

Abby, no more guessing.

Nicholas Everett's
credit cards--

two months ago
he purchased

a hunting knife called
a Sultan Slayer 150.

Murder weapon.

The bevel point
and serrated spine

of the Sultan Slayer 150
matches the wound patterns

of all five victims.
How'd the killer's blood
get inside his victims?

I've been dying for
you to ask me that.

This knife lacks
a prominent hilt.

So if it gets slick,
like say, I don't know,

if you were
stabbing someone,

it's hard to grip.

The killer's hand must
have slipped down the handle.

Cut himself
with his own knife.

As he continued stabbing,
bled into the victim's wounds.

Our killer is going
to have a slice on the heel

or the palm of his hand.
Let's go to work.

Wait.

Could you give
McGee my hug today?

Because he really
needs one.

I'm good, boss. Thanks.

Hey, dug into
Nicholas Everett.

Okay, go.

Multiple complaints
filed by family,

neighbors and work associates
for volatile erratic behavior,

and he was also arrested
for domestic abuse.

Pick him up.

TONY:
Probie does a lot for me.

Really? Seems like
such a geek.

You deserve better.

There is no better.

I doubt that,
compadre.

Hey, now Ziva-- I'd get that
cupcake a cookie anytime.

Hey... Let's wait
for him in the lobby

like Ness at the steps
in The Untouchables.

It was a train
station, Phil.

Remember
The Battleship Potemkin?

Whatever.

Nicholas Everett?

Hold it! Freeze!

Back it up!

What's the matter with you?

Hands in the air.
You got him?

Yeah.

What the hell is this?

Dead johns, Nicky.

I work here.

People are gonna see this.

Uh-oh.

What?

Hands.

Killer had to have
some kind of cut.

(whispers):
Everett didn't do it.

ZIVA:
Okay. Thank you, Abby.

(hangs up phone)
Well...

Nicholas Everett's
Sultan Slayer knife

was as clean as his
injury-free hands.

Well, his alibi
checks out, too.

Everett was in a court-ordered
anger management program

when two of the murders
occurred.

So, you've got nothing.

Phil, I think it's more
like we've got nothing.

Except five dead bodies,

all killed by the same person,
with the same knife.

Well, the only connection
between our five victims

is our high-priced escort
Charlotte.

No. No. Actually, there
is another connection.

The person that
introduced her

to the clients--
Charlotte's old boss.

Yeah. Where is Miss
Holly Golightly anyway?

GIBBS:
That's a good question.

She's not home.

She's not answering
her cell phone.

Couldn't have gone far.

Track her ankle monitor.

Tracking.

Got her signal.

Yep, she's moving, boss.

She's breaking parole.

McGee, MTAC, now.

Got it, boss.

We'll take it
from here, Phil.

I think you can hit the road.

You sure?

Very.

(chuckles)

(clicks tongue)

Where is she going, Gibbs?

I have no idea.

Get one-- she's
your responsibility.

I didn't chain her
to my leg, Leon.

Why not?

Other men have paid
money to do it.

I want a BOLO out on her car.

Already done. GPS signal

shows her heading
towards Alexandria.

Ooh. Uh, Holly's ankle monitor
just went offline.

Maybe her battery's dead?

Or she disabled it.

She's got no reason to.

That we know of.

Track her cell, McGee.

Well, it's turned off.

But I bet I can retrieve
her most recent text messages

from the carrier.
Okay, last message

Holly received was
from Charlotte Cook

less than an hour ago.

Put it up.

Oh, hell.
She went to help her.

You got Charlotte's cell?

Tracking it.

Uh, no signal.

Did get a hit on her name,
though.

Charlotte Cook's been admitted
to a DC emergency room.

Here name was registered
in the DVP alert system.

Domestic Violence
Protocol.

(quietly):
Charlotte...

We need to talk.

Who did this to you?

I try to be careful.

All these years,
I've been lucky.

I guess I just thought
if anything happened,

then it would
be one of them.

But I don't want to make
him angrier because...

Who did this?

Other people are going to die.

And then he's going
to turn on you.

My boyfriend.

He just gets so jealous.

I tried to confront him
about the killings.

Who... Who is your boyfriend?

My lawyer.

DiNozzo, put out a BOLO
on Dwight Kasdan.

He's a Georgetown lawyer.

And get additional security

up here.

On it, boss.

Where is Holly Snow?

I don't know.

You sent her a text.

No, I didn't.

Dwight took my phone,

and told me if I...
if I talked to anybody,

he'd kill me.
Where is he?

I don't know.

Metro PD's sending units
to his house and office,

and McGee's got
a BOLO out on his car.

McGee, cell phone records
for Dwight Kasdan.

Yep. Already
pulled 'em, boss.

Go. Track him.

He's currently
in an office complex...

in Alexandria.

It's a foreclosure.

Kasdan reps the former owner.

You stay with her.

Anyone tries to get in here,
you shoot 'em.

Happy to.

(struggling breaths)

(inhales)

You don't have to do this.

Well, if she's not going
to stop seeing other men, Holly,

I'm gonna make sure
they can't see her.

(sighs)

You know what she did
for a living.

Did for you,
Holly.

I mean, you're the one
that got her into this.

It's your fault.

Now I'm gonna
get her out.

So, what, are you gonna stab me
in the back, too?

What's the matter, Dwight?

Afraid to look a
woman in the eye?

(panting)

(shrieks)

(gunfire)

(gasping)

(groaning)

It's okay.

(sobs quietly)

(phone rings)

DiNozzo.

Hey, Tony, it's me.

Oh, hey, there, McCadden.

(McCadden continues
conversation, indistinctly)

Oh, really?
Was that tonight?

Yeah, it slipped my mind.

I got tons to do, you know?

Us NCIS geeks, uh,

just closing out
the case.

No, I don't think

there's gonna be
a next time, Phil.

That was McCadden?

Did you dump
him, Tony?

Has your man-mance
come to an end?

I never had a man-mance.

You had a fling.

(scoffs)

Guys don't have flings.
We hang out.

Things were hanging out?

That is disgusting.

TONY:
Hey.

Cookie, McG?

Nutter Butter.

That was very nice.

A peace offering.

Feel guilty, don't you?

Well, you should.

I won't apologize.

I don't expect you to.

(blowing)

You're doing that thing again.

You're huffing on your coffee.

I'm just sipping from the cup.

You're annoying.
You're juvenile.

Why do I even try?

(McGee blowing on coffee)

Okay, this has got to be
the best steak I've ever had.

Please tell me
what is your secret.

It's all about the touch.

Hmm.

When it's ready...

...I pour a little
beer on it.

Hmm.
(laughs)

Waste of beer.

(laughs)

Hmm.

Well...

thank you
for a wonderful evening.

And for delivering
on my little, um,

deal-breaker.

Really? It's that special?

Mm-hmm.

All I wanted was dinner
without expectations.

With a friend.

We're friends?

(phone ringing)

(sighs)

Excuse me.

Hello?

Hi.

Tonight.

What time?

All right, I'll see
what I can do.

(laughs)

Me, too.

All right, bye-bye.

(sighs)

Oh... I can explain.

No. You don't have to.

Mm, no, I know
what you must be thinking.

Oh, I... I, um...

I doubt that.

I gotta go.

Friends?

I don't have many.

Me, either.

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