Hey.
Oh, damn. You scared me.
Thought you might be the girls.
- They're not here yet? - No.
No, but they will be.
Man, I knew they'd blow us off.
Nobody's blowing us off.
If the girls said they're coming, they're coming.
- Don't worry. - You're sure no one's home?
Yeah.
Yeah, I've been scouting this yard for days.
All right, the guy must be out of town.
I hope so.
Uh, how hot's his tub?
Uh, he keeps it at 102.
Think maybe that's too hot?
Not for me.
Hell with it. Right?
Yeah.
Ready?
♪ NCIS 16x02 ♪ Love Thy Neighbor Original Air Date on October 2, 2018
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
Think I got everything you asked for.
Your notebooks, spare keys,
and a PalmPilot?
That's a little embarrassing.
There are a few old numbers that I have yet to transfer.
Thank you, Jack.
Uh-huh.
You don't want to stick around?
No. I'm gonna spend every second of my admin leave
with my kids. - Amen to that.
How you holding up? I'm okay.
Considering. How about you?
Best I've been in months, so...
And amen to that. Mm.
Morning.
- What up, my dude? - Hey, morning.
Sure you don't want to just say hello?
No, not today.
I, um...
Oh, come on, no.
Oh, man.
Although things do seem to be back to normal.
I stepped on my favorite shades.
Are you serious?
- Normal. Right. - Right.
Keep holding down the fort, Jack, thank you.
Oh, man.
How could I be so stupid?
You're not stupid.
Accidents happen. They're just sunglasses.
They're not just sunglasses.
Well, I'm sure you can fix 'em. Or, you know, buy another pair.
There is no other pair, McGee.
They're just so cool, you know? They...
they fit my perfectly symmetrical face so right.
- Okay, then. - Okay, nothing.
Got a dead body in Springfield.
Stupid boots.
You gonna be okay?
Perfect.
You heard him.
- He's perfect. - Perfect.
- Got it. - Uh, sure, thank you.
Thank you. Couple of teens
from the next cul-de-sac over
found the body just after midnight.
No ID yet, but the house is being rented
to a Navy Lieutenant Davis Mooney.
And, um, apparently it's pretty ugly in there.
Like we haven't seen ugly.
No, ugly never smelled like that. Mm-mm.
Hey, didn't we have another hot tub call
about ten years ago? Gah.
Mm-mm. Forget that gurney.
- I am gonna need buckets. - Torres,
check the house. Bishop, McGee, see who knows what.
Ugh, okay.
That poor, sweet man.
He only moved in a month or two ago.
So you didn't know him well?
Well...
not for lack of trying.
As a fellow divorcée, you know,
I tried to make him feel welcome.
But he kept to himself mostly... sadly.
I've lived here a long time.
Never seen anything like it.
First the burglary at the Reynolds' place, and now this?
What's the neighborhood coming to?
Down the toilet, I'd say.
At least put some pants on, Edgar.
Okay, so it was your house
that was burglarized two weeks ago?
Yeah. It was Gary who called the police.
We weren't even home at the time.
- Mm. - No, but just think if we had been.
'Cause that could've been us.
I wish we could be more help, but, um...
we got a game. - Well, appreciate your time.
If you can think of anything else, give us a call.
Appreciate your time.
- Thank you. - Don't mention it.
If you can think of anything else...
Thank you.
...give us a call.
Agent Gibbs, I'm gonna need some help back here.
Why are you giving me gloves?
What? Are you out of your damn mind?
This is too disgusting to be doing in broad daylight.
I'm not even sure it's gonna work, anyway.
Palmer, how long has he been in there?
Hard to say, Agent Gibbs.
I mean, a submerged body is one thing,
but, uh, the-the timer came on each night
and turned on the Jacuzzi and the heater,
which only accelerated the decomp.
Yeah, that's what it smells like.
Check this out.
This is a Navy ring.
Has the initials D.M.
- As in Davis Mooney. - Well, that's a tentative ID
until I get him back to autopsy.
- I wonder what else is down there. - There's a lot of chunks
floating around down there, I can tell you that.
- Did you have to tell me that? - Yeah, that's way more than I needed.
- Yeah, me, too. - Me, three.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Where's everybody going?
Well, it was definitely a robbery,
so, uh, I was gonna keep searching the house.
Uh, and I was gonna go help him.
And I was gonna go maybe throw up a little bit.
Torres, go finish up inside.
McGee, you got to throw up, go throw up.
Bishop, call the evidence garage.
- Get a flatbed down here. - Flatbed truck?
- A flatbed truck with a crane. - For one body?
And the tub. We're taking the tub back.
I'm sorry.
The whole tub?
Do you know what that must weigh?
Uh, tub's, what, 500 pounds?
Water's eight pounds a gallon.
- Yeah, it's a lot of water. - It's a lot of evidence.
- Boss... - McGee...
would you rather dig through the chum with Palmer?
Hey, uh, Nick, do you know if we...?
Don't touch me.
- I'm not touching, I'm talking. - Don't talk.
Don't even breathe.
I think this might actually work.
Give me an update.
Can I breathe now?
Superglue, my ass.
Please don't.
ID is still preliminary,
but we believe the victim
is Lieutenant Davis Mooney.
35 years old. Recently divorced. No kids.
Active duty since '09
and now a public affairs officer and part-time writer
for the Navy Herald. - Motive?
Robbery gone wrong. His place was tossed.
The power cords left behind indicate that...
Indicate what, Torres?
That Mooney's, uh, laptop was taken.
As well as a home surveillance DVR.
Same with the previous break-in at the Reynolds'.
- Their nanny cam was stolen, as well. - Yeah.
Whoever robbed these houses, definitely a pro.
- And now a murderer. - Find the ex-wife.
Talk to the Navy Herald.
Glue boy, try turpentine.
Oh, great. Who's got turpentine?
I've got nail polish remover.
Ooh, I do, too.
Would that work?
This has got to be a first.
Perhaps for you, dear Kasie,
but it is our second hot tub-related death
in recent memory.
Uh, trust me, Doctor.
This one? Nothing like the first.
Ooh, okay. I have to admit to some morbid curiosity.
I mean, word gets around
about the most disgusting body find
in NCIS history, a girl's got to see it.
I should really refer you
to the most notorious of our cases,
The Meat Puzzle.
Yes, I found it truly fascinating.
Others, utterly revolting.
Yeah, and with a name like Meat Puzzle,
I don't even want to a...
My God.
It's a slow cooker.
I think we did a great job getting it here so neatly.
Yeah, in a manner of speaking.
This is worse than The Meat Puzzle.
What it is, is one big, disgusting crime scene.
Huh? I mean, look at this. There's clues inside and out.
Might I suggest, Doctor, that we start by removing the body?
Hmm, and then drain and strain the water for the smaller bits?
Oh, yeah, then we can take the tub apart
and check the filter.
You know, it might be easier
if we harvest the larger pieces by hand.
You know what? I'm, um...
I'm gonna go dig up those strainers.
And maybe a gas mask.
You really had to say "harvest"?
Yeah.
Hey. So, the editor at the Navy Herald
was lovely but not much help.
Mooney was a good guy and a great writer,
but she hadn't seen him
since he took leave last month to focus on his book.
- What book? - Again, no details.
And there's no files for us to check?
No, not at their office.
Apparently, he worked strictly from his laptop.
The laptop we don't have.
But the killer now does.
Special Agent McGee.
All right, thank you. Thank you very much.
I've tracked down Mooney's ex-wife through her church.
They said she was in Puerto Rico.
- And who said that tape would work? - They're sunglasses.
Why are you still beating yourself up?
Do you have anyone else I could beat up?
Okay.
So, Mooney's ex-wife. Puerto Rico?
She's on a relief mission, but she's in an area
that still has no electricity.
But the church is gonna get the message to her now.
Well, that was interesting.
So, one of the neighbors, Loni,
suddenly has a theory about the murder.
I had a feeling about those neighbors.
Well, so does Loni, apparently. She insisted
I not let the others know she called.
"Don't tell the other neighbors."
That's what she said.
What? Uh, no.
That's what Kenna Reynolds just texted me.
The soccer mom. She wants to talk.
Oh, this is getting good.
Two new witnesses, just like that.
Make that three?
I didn't give out any of my cards.
Oh, I did. Sorry. Ran out of mine.
Special Agent Torres.
Well, so much for us not telling the neighbors.
All right, how are we gonna do this thing again?
Well, I guess let's divide and conquer
and compare notes after.
- Ooh. - Oh, yeah.
Huh.
Now it's a block party.
Which one called you, Gibbs?
- Not one. Three. - Suddenly,
the whole neighborhood's got a story to tell.
A dynamic I just couldn't resist.
- And what dynamic is that? - Cul-de-sacs
are a psychological gold mine--
test labs for tribal behaviors,
complete with alliances, betrayals, intrigue.
Sounds more like one of those survival shows.
Uh... guys.
I think this show
already started.
Nothing creepy about this at all.
Are you the jealous type, Agent McGee?
Uh... no. Uh, why don't we...?
Because I might know who is.
Those soccer parents across the way?
Shh. Don't look.
Just between us,
I saw Kenna making eyes at the new neighbor a few weeks back,
and it seems to me, if Dan is the jealous type...
Are you suggesting that Dan killed Lieutenant Mooney?
No. No.
I'm not suggesting anything.
That's...
It's just that people are complicated, you know?
Well, just pick anybody on the block.
That nosy neighbor Gary-- he never liked Mooney, either.
- Why is that? - Now, don't...
Don't look.
I don't know exactly.
Something in his quiet demeanor that just made Gary crazy.
Much the way that your... brooding masculinity
is making me a little short of breath and light-headed.
Loni, do you have any actual information?
Is that a wedding band?
Poor, lonely Loni.
I just knew she had a thing for that Navy man.
How much of a thing?
Nothing too Fatal Attraction.
But as another strong, silent type,
you might want to steer clear of her.
And you said you witnessed the murder?
Not exactly.
But I did witness the Reynolds' burglary two weeks ago,
and it's got to be the same guy, right?
Dan and Kenna were out with the kids
at some game or practice or whatever they do,
while Darrin Stephens and I
were making our usual Neighborhood Watch rounds,
when all of a sudden, we saw a flashlight beam
bouncing around inside their windows.
Darrin Stephens? Wasn't that the name
of the husband on Bewitched?
The first Darrin, yes.
Not that goofy second one.
Anyway, just as I was calling 911,
this man suddenly ran out their side door,
hopped their backyard fence, and disappeared into the night.
Did you or Darrin Stephens get a good look at this guy or not?
Not his face, but his form.
Tall, trim, athletic.
Can't say who it was exactly, but I have some ideas.
How much time do you both have?
I couldn't say this earlier,
but you should know that our neighbors are...
oh, shall we say a tad colorful?
Yeah, that's one way of putting it.
How colorful are we talking?
Look, um, we're grateful that Gary was, you know,
watching our house, but it's like
no one can make a move around here
without someone commenting.
More of a balance would be nice, you know,
between friendliness and folks minding their business.
So, do you guys have any new information?
Well...
it's not new, and I hate to say it, but Edgar--
bathrobe guy-- you know, as you may
have guessed-- he's not a good neighbor.
Doesn't make him a killer, babe.
No. Did I say that he was?
- No, you didn't say it. - You said
you had new information, Edgar.
That don't sound like new information.
You want new, agent?
I think Mooney was up to something.
Really? Why is that?
The way he'd always be looking around
and real sneaky-like.
Like when he'd take out his garbage or mow his lawn.
Oh, is that two activities you have no concept of?
Why you got to be so rude?
Rude?! You know what's rude?
Your car, your garage,
this lawn. That's rude.
Your neighbors keep their lawns nice and clean. So should you.
Torres?
The social contract-- they clean, you clean.
Torres, now.
Put some clothes on.
Nobody want to see that.
Seems all they want
- to do is point fingers. - Yeah, Kenna Reynolds
wasn't kidding. That is one wacky cul-de-sac.
Oh, wacky or increasingly common?
I wouldn't go that far, but...
Uh, should I get it? Where is Nick?
He's in the doghouse with Ducky.
So, anyway,
neighbors acting less than neighborly end up
with no shortage of false assumptions about each another.
Uh, it's Mooney's ex-wife.
Flying back from Puerto Rico, changing planes
in Miami now. I can patch her through to MTAC.
Okay. Let's go.
Got you.
We found a tattoo on his arm
that helped confirm the lieutenant's ID.
And based on the size of these fly larvae,
I'd put time of death at about two weeks.
With this level of decomposition,
the cause of death will be difficult to determine.
Right. Of course.
Are you all right, Nick?
After seeing that, not especially.
Here.
Take a seat. Sit down.
You, uh, walk around with that thing in your pocket all day?
Since my myocardial infarction, absolutely.
Look, I know Gibbs thinks that there's something up with me,
but I'm fine, really. - Mm-hmm.
- What? - You do look a tad pallid.
Oh, be quiet, Palmer.
- What's "pallid"? - Pallid-- pale, devoid of sparkle.
But I think you're plenty sparkly.
Yes, well, this isn't sparkly, Kasie.
This is 140/90.
Is that, uh, high or something?
For a man in your physical condition, yes.
What I prescribe for you, young man, is a rest.
- Ducky, rest? Oh, no, man. - Mm-hmm.
I was thinking more like a night out.
You know, blow off some steam,
get a couple of beers.
- I don't know about that. - I do.
- You do what? - Remember, Doctor?
I wa... I was just telling you that
while Breena and Victoria are out of town,
I could really use a night out.
You know?
Cut loose.
Oh, yes. Loose.
Indeed.
Now, Nick, I don't know about beer,
but how do you feel about wine?
Holy cause of death,
Batman!
Could this be our culprit?
I'd been planning to fly home to see Davis next week.
We only split up six months ago.
I missed him.
What broke you up, Mrs. Mooney?
Typical stuff.
No communication.
Mostly when it came to his book.
It's all he could think of,
but God forbid he'd discuss it with me.
For my own protection, he'd say.
What was his book about?
It's all in there in-in his laptop.
Didn't you find it?
No, it was taken during the robbery.
Oh, no.
I warned him.
You warned him?
I don't think that was a robbery.
He must have been getting too close.
Too close to what?
My husband was writing about this string of unsolved murders
by a killer they called The Dentist.
I remember that case. It was from several years back.
But it was like yesterday to Davis.
His own cousin was one of the victims.
...Flight 721 to Dulles International Airport.
And that's my connecting flight.
I got to go.
Oh, you go ahead.
We'll check in with you again tomorrow.
The Dentist?
He claimed nine victims
throughout the Northeast over a six-year span.
Last murder was seven years ago.
And I didn't realize they never caught the guy.
Lieutenant Mooney's cousin Pamela was victim number five.
She was found stabbed to death in a quarry
in Erie, Pennsylvania, 2009.
Which would make his book very personal.
They found a possible murder weapon--
a tip of a box cutter.
Kasie's processing it now.
Dentist use a box cutter?
His M.O. ran the gamut.
Stabbing, shooting, strangulation.
- Did you say "Dentist"? - Yup.
Named by authorities due to his signature move--
taking a tooth from each of his victims as a trophy.
Yeah, I'll catch you up, Nick.
By tomorrow morning, we're all gonna catch up.
Every clue, every suspect, every detail.
You ready to tear up the town, Nick?
Cannot wait.
Hold on. What are you two gonna tear up?
Agent Torres and I are just headed out
to blow off a little steam, you know?
Just us dudes.
Ducky's orders, Gibbs. It's all good.
Yeah.
I mean, how much trouble could they get into, right?
So, uh, Jimmy,
this is you, huh?
This is, uh, you tearing up the town?
Look, man, I call this relaxing,
therapeutic, creative.
And you have to admit,
the wine is pretty good.
Wow.
God, this is what marriage does to you.
Yeah. Isn't it great?
Yup. But look at your apple.
I mean, that thing-- that looks good enough to eat, man.
Uh, Myrna, I need
a refill.
This ain't no saloon, pal.
Yeah, you can say that again.
Ain't no cantina, either.
Great texture-building on both paintings, gentlemen.
Very nice.
Ah, shucks, Myrna. It's the wine doing all the painting.
I am merely along for the ride.
Oh, brother.
Well, you two are natural artists.
Nothing natural about 'em.
Hey, yo.
I like to laugh.
What's so funny over there?
We ain't talking to you... amigo.
Oh, now it's, uh, "amigo"?
Hey, it means "friend," don't it?
Not the way you say it.
Nick, just... let it go.
Yeah, Nick, let it go.
Listen to your boyfriend, Nick.
You might live longer.
Boyfriend?
Look, it's... We-we get it.
It's funny.
They think that we're a couple, and it's-it's...
You don't want to know what I think.
Okay, for your information...
Jimmy.
So, um,
what if we are a couple?
What business is it to you?
Yeah, that's right.
What's it to you?
Gentlemen, please.
No, Myrna, no worries.
'Cause we're gonna take this outside.
Outside where you can run?
Or you girls could just run along.
- The only place we're running to... - Is right over you.
Gentlemen, let's all stay calm now.
All right!
Throw me that.
Enough!
I'm gonna rip your head off.
Butterfly, bee.
Assault, destruction of property.
What are you gonna tell Breena?
Tell her we had no choice.
No, we had a choice.
That was dumb.
Or maybe this is just what we needed.
Oh, Agent Gibbs.
Hey, thanks for coming to get us.
Did we get you up?
It's 3:00 a.m. in the morning.
Of course we did.
Gosh, I-I'm sorry about that,
but, uh, you'd have done the same thing.
- These guys... - Go home, Palmer.
Get some sleep.
Sleep? Right.
Like that's possible.
Hey, um, don't be mad at Jimmy.
Get your act together.
Okay.
- I screwed up. - No, not okay.
Guys with your skill set can't get in bar fights.
- It was not a bar. - Stop.
We'll talk in the morning.
You got arrested for fighting?
At a painting workshop?
What? Did it make the morning news?
No, no. Palmer got here early to share the details.
Look, he even brought doughnuts.
Oh, wow.
I've created a monster.
I don't know. Palmer said the guys you fought
were the real monsters.
- More like dinosaurs, but still. - Nick.
Seriously, you okay?
I'm fine. This is nothing.
- Update. -Look, uh, Gibbs, uh...
No. Not now. Update.
So, I, uh, researched The Dentist's last victim.
Murdered seven years ago in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware,
which led police to a suspect,
Lewis Dacey, childhood friend of the victim.
Now, police worked to build a case against him,
but no charges could ever be filed.
Now, the name sounded familiar to me,
so I went through Mooney's phone records again.
Turns out just two weeks ago, Mooney placed a call
to an L. Dacey in Towson, Maryland.
Well, no such thing as a coincidence.
And what were you doing while they were figuring all this out?
Okay, I got it. Get Dacey in here.
Look, uh, Gibbs, I sincerely apologize.
So, uh, can we have the talk now?
- No. We are not having a talk. - We're not?
Uh, Agent Torres.
Good morning.
Come on up-- Ooh.
Grab me a sprinkle doughnut if you don't mind.
Bye-bye.
This is crazy.
Sloane, I already said I'm sorry.
Come on, Nick.
We all saw you last night planning to tear up the town.
Was it a fight you were looking for?
No, that fight found us.
Of course.
You found each other.
And now you're just apologizing because you don't wanna talk about it.
Don't be passing judgment' over here.
I recall a little bar fight that you got into not too long ago.
One, I'm not judging.
Two, that was definitely apples and oranges.
And three, it kind of makes me uniquely qualified
to ask what's really bugging you.
Fine.
You know what I'm really sick and tired of?
-Hmm? - Why are people so damn mean?
Petty.
From those neighbors in their cul-de-sac
to those clowns last night,
everyone just seems to be... angrier.
And saying terrible things that they've never said before.
Fear and anxiety are at an all-time high.
Between politics and social media...
Why can't people just be nicer to each other?
Like you were last night.
Oh, yeah, well, not to those idiots.
As much as we'd all like to, we can't just go around
punching people into being nicer.
Why not?
I can be like the...
the kindness bully.
But first maybe try to be a little kinder to yourself.
Because, usually,
underneath that sort of anger and rage,
is a lot of pain. I know.
Whatever.
- Don't blow me off. - I'm not blowing you off,
but you're just getting all touchy-feely.
I know there's something deeper going on.
No.
There is not.
I got into a fight, that is it.
Stop trying to make it into something that it isn't.
If you don't like it, just send me home.
Fine. Go home.
You can't send me home.
Oh, I believe I just did.
- Sloane cannot send me home. - Oh, yeah.
She can. So can I.
Gibbs.
You got arrested, Nick.
It's not nothing.
You don't want to talk to Jack, fine.
Go home.
I was hoping you had good news.
Like you caught The Dentist?
Well, maybe we have.
And the nightmare continues.
This thing has ruined my life, you know.
Dental school dropout,
childhood friend of the last victim.
That's all they had.
But accused is as good as convicted.
Hard to scrub "suspected serial killer" from my profile.
This has cost me girlfriends, bank loans,
my job.
Let's talk about this man.
Mooney.
- What about him? - He called you
about two weeks ago? - Yeah.
Never thought I'd be happy to hear from that guy.
You had several conversations
with him over the last year or so.
Interviews for his book.
But unlike this last call, he wasn't buying my story
back then. - Your story?
He always talked to me like I was guilty.
Like I was The Dentist.
And this last call?
I got an apology.
Said he finally believed me.
I can't tell you what a relief it is to have just one person...
I'm sorry.
Why now?
I mean, what do you think changed his mind?
Mooney was sure he was closing in on the real killer.
He told me he moved to, uh, some neighborhood recently
where he thought the real Dentist
was living a whole new life.
Did he say who it was?
He wouldn't.
No, but-but he said he was getting close.
But why ask me?
Wh-What does Mooney have to say about this?
Well, he's not your man, Jethro.
Either Dacey's one hell of a liar...
He couldn't be.
What are the chances we all believed him?
Especially amongst this cast of oddballs.
Not one of them looks like a serial killer.
What does a serial killer look like?
Excuse me, agents.
I didn't know where else to go.
Uh, Mrs. Mooney, we would have come to you.
This couldn't wait.
When I got home, I started going through old mail,
and found this from Davis.
Postmarked two weeks ago.
He knew I'd been planning to fly home, so...
"Welcome home. Please hold on to this for safekeeping.
I'll explain when I see you."
Hold on to what?
What's in there?
I was hoping you could tell me.
Can't quite describe it myself.
Okay.
- Small wooden box. - Kind of pretty.
Not so pretty.
Even before we get DNA results,
I'm willing to bet almost anything, these came
from nine different people. - And whoever The Dentist is,
this box is like his Holy Grail.
What was Mooney doing with it?
What if he was The Dentist all along,
just writing the book to throw everyone off his trail?
Not bad, but why would he write it now?
Oh, yeah, true. After all these years.
My money is still on Bathrobe Edgar.
It's like he wants to stand out,
begging to-to be caught.
Am I right?
His last kill, how many years ago was that?
- Seven. - Okay, a serial killer--
what would it take to make
a serial killer stop cold turkey, just like that?
Most case studies point to a change in lifestyle:
death, illness, new environment.
- Marriage? - Definitely marriage.
- Kids. - Even more so.
How old are Reynolds' kids?
His oldest is... seven.
Parenthood.
They say it changes everything.
The soccer dad? Seriously?
I thought it was crazy, too, until we ran a background.
Victim number two.
Supermarket cashier in Cortland, New York.
And guess who was a grad student at nearby Ithaca that same year.
Victim number four, truck driver found dead
- in Killington, Vermont. - Where Reynolds was working
as a ski instructor that very same winter.
So, just a few things we want to clear up
about the burglary at your home.
You had to bring me in for this?
It's in the police report.
It's more about Lieutenant Mooney's murder.
We narrowed down his time of death to the day after
your place was robbed.
Which, again, is why I'm glad we weren't home at the time.
Obviously, Mooney wasn't so lucky.
You were both at soccer practice?
Just Kenna.
And it was a game.
I was in New York on business.
That right?
Trade convention. I'm in sales.
I was there the whole week.
And what is that?
We think it was Mooney who broke into your house.
It's what he came out with.
What?
In order to prove that you were once known as The Dentist.
Dentist?
Okay, you lost me.
I just said I was in sales.
The Dentist pulled these teeth
from nine victims over seven years ago.
May I...
have a glass of water?
These teeth...
they make you thirsty?
Sickened.
By the sight of them
and the idea that you somehow think I'm responsible.
Cool as a cucumber.
A psychotic cucumber.
I think maybe you need a lawyer?
Why?
I've never seen
these disgusting things.
Now we're talking.
And is this the part
where you stab me?
You know, maybe I do need a lawyer.
We'll need some DNA.
- Get a court order. - Oh, we intend to.
And we will be checking on your New York trip
while you stay right here.
Professional opinion?
Of him or you?
Guy's got one hell of a poker face.
All the best ones do,
but, uh, his is, like, way off the charts.
Hey. You could have warned me.
Eh.
So...
what do you think?
He seems very sure of himself.
Or is he just playing with us?
Name, number.
I'll call you back.
Okay, Nick. Message number three.
Call me back. Let me know you're okay.
Oh, hey.
- Reynolds's alibi? - Credit cards.
Flight itinerary. Hotel receipts.
They all put him in New York when Mooney was killed.
Doesn't mean he's not The Dentist.
New York's only a five-hour drive.
- Plus, that thing with his teeth? - Yes.
The teeth.
Lieutenant Mooney's skull
has a full complement. Therefore,
his killer did not share
The Dentist's penchant for extraction.
Then it wasn't The Dentist?
No other evidence in the tub?
Well, apart from the box cutter blade,
there's a small accumulation of particles in the drain.
Dr. Palmer is assisting Kasie with them as we speak.
From the very first punch, Kasie, I swear,
an adrenaline kicked in like I've never felt before.
Not even on the ledge last year?
Ducky's book. Chapter six.
It was more like a, like a profound satisfaction
and a deep regret crashing together in my gut
at the exact same time.
Oh, like me and a pint of mint chip.
It's like that but, um, with legal consequences.
Hmm.
You want to see my mug shot?
Ooh.
You're the last hope, Kase.
Agent Gibbs.
"Boom Boom" Palmer.
I-- look, go easy on Torres, all right?
Now, those guys really had it coming...
Sometimes hate deserves a punch in the mouth.
- Yeah. - Don't do it again.
- Never. - What about the box cutter?
Nada. A two-week soak in the tub
erased any prints or DNA
that wasn't Lieutenant Mooney's.
Oh, but there's our paint chip.
- What paint chip? - Oh,
it's, uh, among the particles
Jimmy scraped out of the hot tub drain.
It's almost microscopic, but as you can see,
it's a deep shade of purple.
Oh, wow, that's weird.
What's weird?
Its chemical breakdown. Butyl acetate...
nitrocellulose?
That's not a paint chip at all.
Well, what is it?
Ay-ay-ay.
Some things just never get clean, do they?
You have no right to hold Dan.
He's done nothing wrong.
Yah, at first, we didn't know for sure.
Since he was in such close proximity
to two of the victims.
Turns out someone else was, too.
What are you talking about?
Your neighbor broke into your house, looking for something.
It's the first thing that you checked on when you got home.
Second thing you did is hide the nanny cam,
so you could check it out later, after the cops left.
And then, when you saw that it was Mooney
who took your prized collection,
you waited until he was vulnerable.
- In a hot tub. - Yep.
Where you took him out, only to find
he no longer had your teeth.
Is that why you didn't take his teeth?
Smart move, by the way.
Takes a lot of impulse control.
This is insane. What... teeth?
What prize collection?
The one we ran for DNA,
still matching the victims' teeth
and eventually the box to you.
To me?
Yeah.
One little speck... of purple nail polish.
Gotcha.
He was gonna ruin everything.
I got past all that...
a long time ago.
I have everything I need now.
A great husband and beautiful kids.
And some really bad old habits.
I was living a good life here.
Until that...
reporter found me!
I just couldn't let him take it away.
Hmm.
You have no right.
You know, you never really hear about female serial killers.
Actually, I looked it up.
Turns out that one in six are female.
- Really? - Huh.
So it's not rare at all.
What could have made her do it?
We'll have to read Mooney's book.
Apparently, his ex-wife is finishing it.
You know, I keep going back to soccer dad.
How could he not have known?
We're all occasionally guilty of only seeing things
we want to see.
Love is blind.
Hmm. Indeed it is.
Okay. On that note, I am out
for a Scotch and a shower.
Ah, you're not kidding.
Or we can do wine and some painting.
Ah.
Hey.
You hear from Torres?
Uh, no.
- No, and McGee's been calling him, too. - All right.
I'll stop by his place on my way home.
Thanks, Gibbs.
Nick?
You catch the bad guy?
What the hell are you doing here?
You don't answer my calls?
- You gonna answer my question? - Yeah.
We caught the bad guy.
Am I still fired?
No. What? You were never fired.
You were just sent home.
Gibbs cares about you. You know that, right?
I couldn't fix 'em.
Fix what?
Oh, my God. What...
is it with those things?
They were a gift.
Oh.
From Reeves.
He was wearing them one day to the gym,
and I was like, "Hey, cool shades,"
but I really didn't like 'em.
I was just being sarcastic.
The next morning they were on my desk.
He bought you a pair?
He gave me his.
Yeah, well, he was kind.
The kindest.
Ellie.
I miss my buddy.
Me, too.
Come on, let's get inside.
Come on.
Here. You...
- - You good? Yeah.
Okay.
Oh... let's get you some coffee.
Okay. I mean, how many did you have?
How many do you want to have?
No, I won't-- okay, you just go in there.
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man