By KatRose

"I found a lot," Gabriel said, "but I’m not sure exactly what to make of it."

"Tell me," Sara replied.

"According to the police personnel files, Jake is a former champion surfer that graduated from the police academy a few years ago. He was promoted from beat cop to detective only last year.

"I did some more digging and came up with a few traces that indicated he might be involved with the Feds," Gabe continued. "It was a little tougher to get that info, but I did."

"And?"

"And, he’s a Fed."

"I knew that already," Sara sighed. Gabe’s eyebrows shot up, but wisely kept his own counsel on commenting. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," he said, rummaging through some papers he had printed out. "He’s been with the FBI for about 5 years. Came to them through an unusual source."

"The Vatican." Sara stated it simply. As if it were a known fact, not supposition.

"How’d you know that?" Gabe exclaimed. "If you’re going to get your information from other sources, stop waking me up in the middle of the night!"

"Gabe! I didn’t get it from ‘other sources.’ I got it from the Witchblade. Relax, kid," she said, trying to calm him down. "Have another cup of coffee."

Gabe rolled his eyes are her and continued. "Seems our friend Jake is, or was, I’m not sure about that part, a priest. Or at least a cop attached to the Vatican. I’m still trying to sort out the info. There’s some conflicting info out there, and I can’t access the Vatican’s records. Too many firewalls and dead-ends."

"Thanks, Gabe. I appreciate what you’ve done," Sara said.

"Now what?"

"Now I …," Sara sighed, not sure what to do next. "I don’t know. I have to think."

"You need to sleep first. Go home, Sara. Get some rest and think about it later. Maybe the Witchblade will have answers for you when you sleep," Gabe advised.

Sara nodded her head and left. Gabe gathered up the documents and stuffed them in the back of his desk drawer. You can never tell when info might be valuable again, he thought to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jake was still sitting at the table when Nadine finished getting dressed. "You come up with anything?" she asked.

"Other than a headache, no," he replied. "This isn’t good, Nad. Not at all."

"I gotta agree with you there, Jake. You really screwed up this time. And I’m not sure how, if at all, you can get out of it." Nadine poured herself another cup of coffee and sat across the table from Jake.

"I know," Jake sighed. "I need to talk to …" he paused, remembering he couldn’t call Sara. "Damn."

Nadine didn’t react to Jake’s slip. She knew he had a lot of things to work out, and one of them was how to not get in touch with the woman that’s touched his heart. The next couple of weeks, even months, weren’t going to be easy for him.

"First things first, Jake. You need to sit down and write down everything that’s happened since your last report. Write the truth and the facts, not just what you want them to read. You need to understand it yourself before you can make anyone else understand it. Then, and only then, do you start writing the real report." Nadine got up, hugged Jake’s shoulders and gently, but firmly pulled him to an upright position. "Now, scram. I need to get my day started without you in my hair."

Jake pulled her in for a big hug, kissed her on the cheek and left saying, "You’re the best, Nadine. Thanks for everything."

Closing the door behind Jake, Nadine leaned into the wall. This is going to be a long couple of weeks.

Jake got in his car and drove off. He didn’t know where he was going, or how he was going to get there, but he just needed to keep moving. He found himself, some time later, sitting in front of the police station. He automatically reached for the door handle to get out, but had to remind himself he couldn’t go in. But something nagged at the back of his brain, he needed to go in. Not to check on Sara, but something else. Something more important.

He got out of the car and walked inside. He was headed towards the office he shared with Sara, but saw she sitting at the desk with a glum look on her face. Making a hasty detour towards the file room, he accidentally ran into another officer.

"Oops, sorry, man," he said, trying to brush past the man.

"No prob, Jake," replied Sancho. "Hey, what’s up with your partner? She’s in a nasty mood this morning."

"Dunno," Jake lied. "I just got in myself."

"Well, take it easy, man. She looks like she’d chew you up and spit you out just for the hell of it." Sancho continued down the hallway without realizing his comment had more meaning to Jake than was intended.

Jake shook his head to clear the image Sancho had inadvertently left behind and went to the file room. He didn’t know what he was doing here, only that something was nagging him. He went to the newest cabinets and started opening drawers, hoping that something would spring out at him. Not literally, though that could definitely take his mind of other matters for a bit.

He closed the third cabinet an hour later with still no idea what he was looking for. He began to suspect he was here hoping she’d pop her head in looking for something and find him instead. Just as he was about to leave, something caught in between the cabinet and the wall stopped him. He bent over to pull it out and saw "Elizabeth Bronte Missing, Local Man Questioned" at the top of the newspaper clipping.

Below it was an article with some details about her recent activities prior to her disappearance and two pictures. The one labeled as Bronte was a dead ringer for Sara. The other was a grainy photo of the suspect. But through the fuzz, Jake could see that the man looked an awful lot like himself. So much so, that he dropped the clipping before he could steady his hands.

I’m a suspect in Elizabeth Bronte’s disappearance, was his first thought. Then he realized that the date of the clipping was during the 1940s, way before he was born. What the heck is going on here?

He picked up the clipping, folded it carefully and put it in his pocket. This was obviously what he was supposed to have found, now it was time to get out before anything else happened.

He wanted to walk past the office to see if Sara was still around, but knew that would only cause more havoc in both their lives. So he walked out the side door after telling the Captain he was going to do some research about their latest case at the library. The Captain nodded his head, not really sure what was going on, but figuring it was best to stay out of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sara stared off into space thinking about all she had learned. Jake was in love with her. She was, in all likelihood, in love with Jake. Jake was a Fed. Jake was a priest. Jake had lied to her. Jake was after the Witchblade. Jake was a threat to her. Jake.

"Damn," she muttered softly, rubbing the Witchblade’s stone. Knowing she wasn’t going to get much done, she headed to the gym for some good old-fashioned anger management.

"Dare I ask whose face you’re pummeling?" asked Danny.

Sara gave a small start at Danny’s voice, but quickly continued with her workout. "Would it do me any good to say, ‘no’?"

"No."

"Didn’t think so."

"So, are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?"

"No one’s face. Just working off some steam."

"Tell it to someone else, Pez," Danny said. "I know you too well. What’s up?"

Sara grabbed the bag to stops its swinging and turned to Danny. "Everything. Nothing. Same ol’ same ol’."

When Danny didn’t respond, just looked at her with his patient eyes, she sighed. Grabbing her towel, she went to sit on the bench with the hand-weights.

"It’s Jake," she finally said. "He’s definitely not what I thought he was."

"Nothing ever is, Sara."

"Don’t I know it." Clearing her throat she said, "He’s a Fed, Danny." She paused and finished, "And a priest."

"Interesting combination. What does he have to say about it?"

"I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him since last night."

"Maybe you should. There’s more here than meets the eye. Everything is connected, Sara. Everything. Give him a chance to explain before you judge him."

Sara turned to put the weight back on the rack, "I’m not sure if that’s a good idea." When she turned back, Danny was gone. "Damn. Once again, when things start getting interesting, you leave." Giving up on the workout, she showered, changed and left.

Riding around on her bike she tried to think through everything she knew and everything she thought she knew. Some of it was conflicting information and needed to be examined more closely. Her dreams about Cathain and Joan of Arc were vivid in her mind. Maybe If I can find more about these women, I can make more sense out of my life. She turned the corner and headed to the library.

….to be continued