A/N: Sorry for the delay. I only just had the time to finish this chapter today, so I hope it lives up to what it's meant to be.
As always, thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing!
Sarah x
Sandra sat at her desk, wondering whether to make a public appeal or not. Jocelyn obviously had the intelligence to run when she was spooked, but options were running out quickly. Gibbs was becoming a right pain in her arse, too; Fornell and Ziva were the only things keeping him in line. And not to mention DiNozzo, whose attitude problem seemed to respond only to Ziva and Tim. Fornell informed her, when asked about the subject, that Gibbs and DiNozzo were only this difficult because Jenny Shepard's name had been brought into this. But, as she had said to Gibbs last night, she knew what it was like, to be lied to again and again.
Gerry, Brian and Jack were clutching at straws, hoping they were attached to leads. Gerry was 'casually' ringing around Lambeth's small shops, bakeries and the like, asking to speak to Jocelyn Sharpe, in the hope she worked in one of them. Brian was taking the approach that Strickland would object to if he knew about it; he and Jack were out talking to her neighbours, to see if they had anything helpful to add. Strickland hadn't wanted to freak Jocelyn out, but at this point, it probably wasn't going to make much difference. The Americans, however, were raking through their pasts for anything at all that Jenny might have said or done that could lead them to her twin, and making lists. They'd been at it for about an hour, but she didn't know what progress they had made.
And, just to make things that little bit better, Strickland was now striding towards her office with both purpose and confusion. She hated it when he did that. He didn't knock or even ask to come in; he simply walk into her office and closed the door behind him. It was another thing she hated.
"Sandra," he breathed, like he had been running all the way here until he reached the squad room doors. "Jocelyn Sharpe is in the Emergency Department in St. Thomas' Hospital. Lambeth. She was found collapsed in the middle of the street. The ward sister recognised her from the original investigation."
Sandra stood up and went for her coat with no hesitation. "Have they approached her?"
"No. They thought it would be better if the police dealt with her."
"Oh, good," Sandra smiled. "A member of the public who has their wits about them. I'll take Gerry, Jack and Officer David," she added. "I have a feeling that taking McGee, Gibbs and DiNozzo wouldn't be wise, and I need Fornell to keep them occupied." Strickland nodded in agreement, moving aside to let Sandra pass. "Gerry, Jack, Ziva, with me, please!" she called as she walked through the squad room.
As much as she wanted to be open and honest, she could not justify upsetting Gibbs with the news right now; she had seen just how raw Jenny's death was for him, and that her twin sister – the one she failed to mention to everyone she loved – was alive was something that needed to be broken gently. Now was not the time, and Sandra wanted to speak to Jocelyn before speaking to Gibbs, anyway.
In all honesty, it wasn't even Gibbs she was protecting. She was protecting the case; last night, he had been all set to burst down Jocelyn's front door, all guns blazing. If he really did react like that in front of Jocelyn, and if she was even remotely capable of running, she would be gone like a bat out of hell and they wouldn't be able to get to the bottom of why she was hiding, or help her if she needed it.
After all, who hides for no reason?
Jocelyn, maybe. But maybe not. She was definitely attempting to hide, but maybe she had a reason that they just didn't know about yet.
Gerry, Jack and Ziva were soon enough piled into the car with Sandra, who opted to drive. She didn't really trust Ziva's driving. Her skills were more suited to a war zone, where, admittedly, she probably learned them. Here, she would probably only end up arrested. Funnily enough, Sandra actually liked Ziva. She felt for her, too. Jenny had been her best friend, and yet she was discovering she had known very little about the woman. It was the same with Gibbs. Jenny seemed to have left a whole trail of destruction, lies and secrets behind her.
"Where are we going, Detective Superintendent Pullman?" asked Ziva.
"St. Thomas' Hospital," she replied, looking in the rear view mirror to see her face, and that of Gerry, who sat next to her. "Jocelyn Sharpe has been admitted. She collapsed on the street."
"She was running. Just like her sister," Ziva muttered. "She will only run again, as soon as she sees us."
"She can try, but I don't think the ward sister is going to let her discharge herself without a fight."
Ziva fell silent, and the men remained silent. This was a draining case. The potential politics involved were frightening; she was in half a mind to call the Director of NCIS herself, but what would she say? She had no explanation yet. All she had was a location.
Before long, they were in the Emergency Department, at the front desk, and Sandra was showing her police ID and introducing her companions. The ward sister who called it in soon met them, and it was obvious she did not take any prisoners. She was middle aged, about Sandra's age, with light brown hair and dark green eyes. At least the height of Ziva, she was broad-shouldered and wise-looking, but with that air of ferocity that Sandra herself often held around her. She had been right – Jocelyn was not going anywhere.
Together, they were led to a side room, where Jocelyn was lying on a bed with an IV in her arm, just staring at the ceiling. What was she thinking? Well, they were about to find out, weren't they? "She's fit to speak to you," the ward sister told them, "since she's fit to demand to leave, but go easy on her. She's pretty weak."
"Thanks," smiled Sandra.
She took a breath. This was the turning point of the whole case. It determined whether it was a family matter, personal matter or US federal matter that made Jocelyn run. If, of course, Jocelyn decided to tell them the truth.
So in they walked, to confront an ill woman about...well, they weren't even sure of that yet. When they entered, Jocelyn's eyes scanned through their faces, until she reached Ziva, who trailed behind them. On the Isreali's face, Jocelyn's eyes were fixated. "Ziva," she breathed, before her green eyes widened like she had spoken a disgusting, forbidden word.
Sandra looked at Ziva; she was taken aback, frightened, even. Ziva had said she had never known Jenny had a sister, let alone met her, so how did Jocelyn know her face, or even her name? "Can I have a word outside, please, Officer David?" Sandra asked, dragging Ziva by the arm onto the main ward.
Once out of Jocelyn's earshot, Sandra started her interrogation. "You told us you didn't know Jocelyn even existed!" she hissed at the young woman. "You told us you had no connection to her, other than that you were her sister's friend. You could have just jeopardised the whole investigation!"
"I do not know her!" Ziva insisted. "I did not lie to you, Superintendent. I do not know Jocelyn. I only know – knew – Jenny. Or I thought I did! Maybe I knew nothing about her!"
"Then how the bloody hell does she know your name? What you look like?!"
"I do not know!" Ziva's face was growing more and more uptight, and Sandra didn't know whether or not to believe a fully trained liar. "I am as confused as you are! Perhaps Jenny told her about me. Perhaps she has seen a picture of me. I just do not know!" she half-shouted, hitting her palm with her fist with every one of those last three syllables.
She was genuine.
Ziva was not lying. Sandra was able to trust that now that she was visibly upset; the girl was normally quite stoic. "Alright," Sandra sighed, rubbing Ziva's arm gently. "Calm down. It's OK."
"It is not, though, is it?!" Ziva demanded. "This is not OK."
"It will be," Sandra found herself saying. "I promise you, Ziva, one way or another, this will work out."
Her common sense berated her for promising Ziva anything at all, because in the back of her mind, she knew she had no way of knowing what was about to happen. How could she? Every single time they have thought they'd been getting somewhere, there was a snag. A curveball, as DiNozzo would have put it. So what was she doing, promising Ziva David that it was all going to work out? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
But she didn't let this show on her face. She made sure she didn't let Ziva see her own doubt, but she didn't know how good Ziva was at reading her yet. She was, after all, a Mossad agent, so was bound to have some decent observational skills. She was not naive. Sandra knew Ziva would not be as innocent as her years would suggest, but she had this gut feeling that Ziva was an inherently good person, and she was choosing to trust her own gut.
"Are you OK to come back in?" Sandra asked, making the quiet decision not to throw Ziva off the case.
Ziva only nodded her head, and Sandra smiled. The girl was tough.
Please feel free to tall me your thoughts!
Sarah x
