Genevieve

Chapter 20

"Gibbs, I don't feel comfortable with this..." 

We are sitting in front of my old home. The white paint smiles in the sunlight, concealing the horrors of the event that happened within it's walls.

"Do you want me to send one of the others back to get the journals?"

I sigh. "Gibbs, you can just go in and get them. I will stay in the car."

"Nope, can't do that. Lowe is still out there, not to mention we don't know if that woman in autopsy was working with anyone. You are staying with me. So, do you want to go in there, or do you want me to send one of the others back to find the books?" 

I look out the window at the house. My room window stares back at me. The journals are within reach... "We should just go in. We are here, it would be pointless to go back and have someone else come back." I open my door and walk onto the sidewalk. My hair whips around my face in the breeze.

"You look cold." Gibbs drapes his coat around my shoulders.

"Thanks Gibbs." I pull the coat tightly around me. Then I take the first step towards the house. My feet carry me without fail to the door, a muscle memory no doubt. My hand hesitates on the door handle. "I'm surprised no one has bought the place yet."

"It is still an on-going investigation. We can't risk anyone coming in and messing with anything until we find out who killed them."

I nod slowly. "Right, because we don't know who killed them yet..."

Gibbs sighs and moves me away from the door, opening it and stepping inside. "Come on."

I follow him in and look around the house. Nothing has changed since I was here. I look away from the pictures on the wall and rush up the stairs and into my room. It is exactly as I left it. "I always hid the journals in the wall. Even my foster parents didn't know where they were." I walk up to my bed and touch the wall behind my headboard. 

Gibbs watches intently as the wall comes apart. The square is about the size of a computer and there was no real evidence that it had ever been taken out before. 

I set the piece on the bed and reach into the hole, my hand coming in contact with the smooth leather spines of roughly four books. I pull them out one by one and hand them to Gibbs. Then I take the piece and put it back into the wall. "There you go. Those are the secrets of the Project. Everything is dated." 

He sits down next to me on the bed. "I'm proud of you. I know it wasn't easy coming here, and it probably is even harder to hand these books over."

"Just promise me you will find him Gibbs. Promise me that you will find Lowe, and whoever killed my foster parents. Promise me you will find the bastards." 

"I already promised you that I would. And I never break my promises." He wraps an arm around me and kisses my forehead. "We will find them." 

"You better. Or else I will find them myself."