Chapter 3:
Author's Note: Sorry it has taken me so long to post. I've been blocked as of late and busy with school and all. Here's the third chapter, hope you like it as much as the first two. Gabe makes a cameo here, so that should make some happy. Am I the only one that gets the feeling he has a bit of a crush on Sarah? And, just one more thing, any idea as to how old he is?
Disclaimer: Not mine, but wouldn't it be cool if they were? And by the way, for those of you who find this graphic, why do you think I rated it like I did?
~*~
Sarah left the second crime scene much as she had the first, dazed and nauseated. The MO for the second killing was identical to the first as well. There was no question now that they were dealing with one man. The little boy had been stripped of all his garments and mutilated, his eyes and heart torn from his tiny figure. His skin was unnaturally pale, not even having the sort of bluish tinge of many corpses. That wouldn't have bothered her so much as this tiny, bloodless shell.
She saw him again, the hooded killer whose face the Blade couldn't, or wouldn't show her. She felt the boy's pain, his torment and his fear. She felt the killer's grim satisfaction and suddenly she was struck with the feeling that these children were only a means to an end for him. With every child that passed she could feel his presence grow stronger. Like in some warped way he was feeding of the lives of those he killed.
Jake reacted only slightly less shell shocked than he had with the girl. The one good thing Sarah could note about her young partner was that he at least managed to blink this time. Before his eyes had remained strangely open, riveted on the form of the girl. This time he was able to look away, and blink.
Jake followed her down the alley, away from his fellow officers, and closer to the horde of people now straining to see what was going on. Reporters hovered near the front, shouting at the detectives to get some answers. The emaciated form had been found in the alley between two apartment buildings. Tenants from both buildings had started the crowd, and it had only grown with time.
The Witchblade hummed softly on her wrist. He was here someone was here. Steely eyes swept the crowd before her. Jake noticed Sarah begin to rub her wrist, like she always did when trouble was near. He'd always found it amusing before, how her wrist could sense danger like some people's joints could foresee rain. He broke out of his reverie and started to look hard around him, but he didn't see anything suspicious, just a whole lot of scared people.
She passed him over twice before she sighted in on him. Tattered garments hung loosely around a thing frame. Long, salt and pepper hair, clung to parts of his face. Their eyes locked, and Sarah let out an involuntary shiver. Jake walked over, trying to look normal even though his heart had started to race. "What's up?" He whispered.
"Front row. Tan trench coat. Gray hair." Her eyes never left the man's form. Jake peered into the mass. He spotted their quarry just as the homeless man turned to leave. He worked his way through the crowd, becoming ever more frantic as he pushed his way past the throng.
Sarah and Jake walked as a single unit, striding together toward the edge of the police barrier. Their steps lengthened together, and by the time they reached the first row of people, they were almost running. Sarah let Jake go first, the bigger man pushing his way past people like a linebacker. Sarah scurried behind him, through the empty line he had made.
They spotted the man together, half a block away, heading into a densely populated area of apartment buildings. The alleyways there were like labyrinths, so intricately laid out that one could easily become lost. Once free of the spectators they both broke into a hard sprint. Sarah unclipped the latch of her holster, holding her hand just above the butt of her pistol.
As Jake gained speed, Sarah fell slowly behind. His strides were longer than hers, and no matter how fast she ever ran, she would always be at a disadvantage in that respect. Jake concentrated only on the man ahead of him, the trench coat now flapping behind him, a flag flying high in the wind. His feet skimmed over the pavement, and he had never before run so fast in his life. His lungs burned for more air and he pushed harder.
Frantic and desperate the homeless man turned sharply into a nearby alley. Jake couldn't have been more than five yards behind him at that point. No, there was no way in hell he was going to lose this guy now. Not when he was so close. He hit the turn at full speed, and his legs flew out from under him just as quickly. The blue eyes that had been so riveted on the fleeing man never even noticed the large patch of ice. He hit the pavement with an audible thud, sliding out of control across the ground. Dense particles of dirt and stone tore through his pant legs and delved deep into his flesh. He hit the wall of the building feet first and lay there, stunned.
Jake's right side ached furiously and he cursed his own clumsiness. His head was screaming for him to rise, but for some reason his body seemed unable to comply. He heard footsteps approaching. Sarah leapt over the patch as neatly as a gazelle. She never stopped, never wavered.
The destitute man was less than fit. He was trying to scale a seven foot high wooden wall at the end of the alley, without much success. Flat soled loafer scraped and slid on the boards, failing to catch hold. Sarah almost had him; she could feel it. She reached the wall and jumped for all she was worth, her fingers just scraping the hell of the man's shoe. He had finally found enough of a grip to fling himself over the wall. Sarah took a deep breath, a step back, and then launched herself at the fence once more. Being far more nimble and fit, she reached the top in short order.
Her quarry was just picking himself off the ground. His coat was streaked with mud, caked by grime from the streets. A second thought didn't cross her mind. She just jumped. Landing hard on the man's back she slammed him into the ground. His arms were wrenched behind his back, the handcuffs on almost before he could blink. Sarah brushed a stray piece of hair from her face.
Jake arrived a moment later. He too climbed the wall. He landed heavily on his left leg, favoring his right, and for good reason. Sarah eyed his pants. The denim material had been shredded, and she was hard pressed to see the difference between the dirt from the ground and the rapidly congealing blood on his knee.
"You're bleeding," she said simply, yanking the suspect of the floor roughly. McCarty looked down on himself in surprise. Truthfully, he hadn't even noticed. But now that the fact had been pointed out to him he felt sore, his knee aching with persistent throb. His palms were scraped too, red and oozing from his contact with the asphalt.
"Get cleaned up at the station," Sarah commanded. Ordering her rookie partner around was becoming something of a habit, and not one she entirely disliked.
"Not before we interrogate this creep," Jake said icily.
"No," she shot him a steely gaze. "Before we interview him. Don't worry, I won't start without you." Jake fell silent. There was really no point in ever arguing with Pezzini.
--
".....Tell me the truth Joey!" Sarah demanded from her suspect for the second time an hour and a half later. "I can't help you if you won't tell me the truth. Why were you there today? Why did I see you at their house?" She leaned menacingly over the table, her hands balled into fists. She almost felt guilty about pressuring the perp so hard. He was little more than a child himself. You could hear the youth in his voice when he spoke, bad grammar and all.
Jake's incessant pacing was becoming tiresome. She could see the younger man out of the corner of her eye, limping around at the back of the room. He hadn't stopped moving once the entire time they had been in the interrogation room. He wasn't being helpful either, occasionally yelling incoherently at the man, but never doing anything that could actually be considered useful.
The man averted his eyes, tilting his head toward the floor. "I told you," he whimpered in a tiny voice. "I didn't take those kids."
"Then why were you there Joe? You knew about them before we did, before anyone did. I don't see how that's possible without you being involved. But you say it is, so explain it to me."
"No. No, you're wrong. I loved them. I loved them all. I would visit them, cause I knew they was special. I wouldn't want to hurt any of 'em."
"Special how Joey?" Sarah pressed. "Tell me how."
"He wants them, he does. I was just tryin to protect 'em."
/Enough, enough, enough,/ Jake's head screamed. This cock and bull question and answer wasn't getting them anywhere. This little shit knew where the other children were, and damn if he wasn't going to give it up. Rage and hate filled his veins. The blood roared in his ears. Jake strode forward, nearly knocking Pezzini over as he shoved his way by.
"Protecting them? You murdered them you piece of shit! Where are they you perverted little bastard?!" Jake cried, his face crimson with color. Aquamarine depths burned. He reached across the table, grabbing the scruffy, little man by the collar and yanking him viciously out of the chair. "Tell me!" Joey started to cry.
"McCarty!" Sarah rushed to pull her partner away, but his grip was like a vice. "Let him go Jake!" She grabbed his shirt and threw her weight backward, ripping him away from the suspect. She held onto him as she began to yell.
"What the fuck are you doing Rookie? You're not helping!"
Jake swatted Sarah's arms away. "This isn't getting us anywhere Pez!" he shouted. "Give me five minutes alone with him and we'll know where to find those kids."
"We don't do things like that McCarty. Do you hear me?" His response was to leap at Joey again. Sarah held him back. Never, never had she seen him so livid. "That's it! You're done here. Get out."
Jake turned to her, his mouth twisting into something dreadful. Sarah jutted out her chin a little more. "Get out before I have you thrown out rookie," her voice was icily calm. An animalistic growl escaped from Jake's throat. His hands found the nearby chair and he hurtled it across the room. The glass separating the interrogation and viewing rooms cracked. Then Jake stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Sarah stared at the door for a moment, stuck somewhere between shock and disbelief. She shook her head to clear it. She'd deal with McCarty's little temper tantrum later. Turning back to Joe she straightened her shoulders and drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry about that. He's upset with this case."
Joey nodded soberly. "I understand. It upsets me too." Suddenly his head shot up, his eyes brightening slightly. "But you can help! You can help me protect them."
Sarah shook her head. "I can't do that Joey. We don't know who the next child will be."
"but I do," he told her eagerly. "I can show you. Just let me go and I'll show you. I don't want any more harm to be done."
"Show me how? How do you know who these kids are Joey?"
He smiled softly, his fingers creeping toward his neck. "This tells me." He tugged at a little silver chain that hung around his throat. From under his shirt he pulled out a piece of metal. It twirled on the chain, glittering even in the dim light. There was something about it that was very familiar to Sarah, though she had no idea why.
"May I see that?" She asked, holding out her hand. Joey eyed her suspiciously for a moment before consenting. He pulled the cord off his head and placed the metal thing in Sarah's hand.
Sarah studied it carefully. It had to part of something else, she realized. A piece of a larger amulet. It was a fine silver, intricately designed. The silver part looked like a twisting ray of the sun, attached to a middle that was a deep green. The moment she touched the center, the Witchblade ran hot, buzzing crazily.
"Joey, I'm gonna keep this for a little while." His eyes widened, making him look scared. She smiled slightly, laying a hand on top of his. "Don't worry, I'm going to give it back to you. But first I want a friend to look at it. He knows a lot about old jewelry like this." He nodded slowly, wringing his hands together anxiously across the top of the table.
Sarah rushed from the room then, calling for a uniformed officer. "Where's McCarty?" she asked.
The young man looked at her strangely. "He left a little while ago. Muttered something about taking the rest of the day. Dante is less than thrilled."
"Never mind then. Take the guy I have in the interrogation room down to holding. Don't file any charges just yet either. Got it?" The officer nodded obediently, mutely.
--
"Gabrielle!" Sarah pounded on the heavy wood door with her fist. "Gabrielle, open up, it's Pez." She heard someone moving about the interior of the apartment. The door opened a crack and she spotted a set of dark, distrustful eyes peering out at her. She sighed. "Gabe it's me."
The suspicion vanished almost immediately. He closed the door again, sliding the chain off. With a creak, the door opened and she was let inside. The apartment was exactly as she remembered it, dark and cluttered. A high tech computer hummed along in the background. "I need you to do me a favor."
Gabriele flashed her a small smile. "So what else is new?"
"Can the sarcasm bud, I need your help." She pulled the piece of the amulet out of her coat pocket. "I need all the information you can get on this. I think it part of something bigger. It might be the key to a case I'm working on."
Gabe took the metal work from her. His eyes went sharply from the section to her. "This looks like it was made by the same guy who made the witchblade. Or made at the same time anyway. There are similar characteristics in the folds of the metal."
"I know," Sarah mumbled softly. "That's why I came to you." She could have gone elsewhere, to Irons, even to police evidence, but she didn't want to. Somehow she doubted that Dante would have even humored her idea that the amulet was somehow linked to all of this. And as for Irons, he would have told her only what he wanted her to know. He liked keeping her half on the dark. Besides which, Ian would have been there, watching her with those hawk eyes. She trusted Gabriele, as much as she trusted anyone.
"I'll do what I can," he assured her. "It might take me a while though."
"That's fine. There's something I have to do first anyway." Gabe set the artifact on his desk, still examining it. When he turned back to Sarah, she was gone. He shook his head ruefully and went back to work.
--
Sarah waited outside Jake's door for a moment or two, trying to decide the best course of action. The ride over from Gabriele's really hadn't given her enough time to think of anything good to say. What she most wanted to do was chew out his ass, but something in her mind told her to hold back. There was something about this case that was bothering him greatly, and good sense told her to find out what it was before blowing off the handle.
She didn't bother knocking. He hadn't answered when she had buzzed up, but his car was outside, so he was definitely home. Luckily some half deaf old woman had buzzed her right in. The door was slightly ajar; Jake knew she was coming.
His apartment always managed to put her in just a little bit of awe. The richly lavished loft was far different than anything she would have expected Jake to live in. The only thing that seemed remotely Jake-like were the pictures of him surfing enormous waves. She closed the door behind her, and made her way toward the back. She could hear someone grunting in the shadows.
Fists were flying as she approached him, and Jake was completely oblivious to Sarah's arrival. Hidden in the one dark corner of his home hung a well beaten punching bag. Thick rubber mats lay under and around it. Blonde hair was soaked with sweat and plastered to his face. He danced around the bag on his toes, in socks. Sarah eyed the suspicious red stain growing on the outside of the sock, and had to wonder how long he had been going at the bag.
Every punch had something behind it, like he was trying to strike down an old enemy, a ghost even. The white wife-beater clung to his back and the veins stood out against the skin on his shoulders and neck. So crimson was his face that Sarah feared he might soon pass out. His hands were taped, the knuckles bound securely, but even there tiny pinpricks of blood were beginning to poke through. Two empty bottles of Corona lay at one edge of the mat.
"Jake." Sarah tried to no avail. "Jake!" She yelled this time. Blue eyes flicked briefly in her direction before refocusing on the accursed bag in front of him. Sighing heavily, Sarah stepped in and grabbed the bag to keep it from swinging madly. "Jake stop it before you really hurt yourself."
Jake took a few more wild shots at the beaten bag, but his heart wasn't in it any more. One of the punches flew right by Sarah's ear. She wasn't entirely sure he hadn't done it on purpose. He glared at her once more before stalking away, ripping at the bandages around his palms. "How could you?" He finally spit out, grabbing a third bottle of Corona from his refrigerator.
"he didn't do anything Jake," Sarah told him more calmly than she felt.
"He killed those kids!" There was something else in this protest, a note of anguish she hadn't heard before. "There is nothing worse in this world than someone who would do that to a child. And you protected him."
"He didn't do it," she said again.
"You don't know Pez. You don't know what it's like. What it must have been like for her, with him, alone with no one she knew." He stared past her head, his eyes glazed and vacant.
Jake sat heavily on his sofa, placing the Corona half finished on the coffee table and his head in his hands. His shoulders started to shake. "I wasn't there for her. I should have been there, done something." Sarah sat down next to him, slinging and arm over his shoulders.
"What are you talking about Jake? You're doing all that you can for these kids." Whatever he was talking about now, it wasn't this case, these kids. It was something deeper, and much closer to home.
He lifted his head, craning his neck to look into her with those bloodshot eyes. "No. She was just a little girl. And I wasn't there, and she's dead. Oh God Becca." More than mildly confused Sarah pulled her partner closer. He leaned his head heavily upon her shoulder, weeping uncontrollably. She could feel the dampness of his tears seeping through the collar of her shirt.
The Blade sent her flashes. She could see a small girl with curly blonde hair. She was playing in the surf with a blonde man. Sarah almost smiled. It was Jake, a few years younger and with hair that was a lot longer, but him just the same. This was a happy memory.
Then came the rest, the darker images that would have to be explained. She couldn't get a read on exactly what had happened, but she felt Jake's pain, his sense of loss. The Blade stopped. Sarah hugged him then, really hugged him. She would let him finish this outpouring of emotion, this wave of guilt he'd been holding for so long. For whatever she had just born witness required some explaining, and Jake would tell her when he was ready.
Chapter 3
I'm really sorry this took me so long. Blame it on my muse who refuses to sit still and behave. Or you can blame it on the parents bugging me to write a college entrance essay, either way is fine. Have fun reading. Hopefully 4 won't take me as long. Hope you like it so far. Please review!!!!!!
Author's Note: Sorry it has taken me so long to post. I've been blocked as of late and busy with school and all. Here's the third chapter, hope you like it as much as the first two. Gabe makes a cameo here, so that should make some happy. Am I the only one that gets the feeling he has a bit of a crush on Sarah? And, just one more thing, any idea as to how old he is?
Disclaimer: Not mine, but wouldn't it be cool if they were? And by the way, for those of you who find this graphic, why do you think I rated it like I did?
~*~
Sarah left the second crime scene much as she had the first, dazed and nauseated. The MO for the second killing was identical to the first as well. There was no question now that they were dealing with one man. The little boy had been stripped of all his garments and mutilated, his eyes and heart torn from his tiny figure. His skin was unnaturally pale, not even having the sort of bluish tinge of many corpses. That wouldn't have bothered her so much as this tiny, bloodless shell.
She saw him again, the hooded killer whose face the Blade couldn't, or wouldn't show her. She felt the boy's pain, his torment and his fear. She felt the killer's grim satisfaction and suddenly she was struck with the feeling that these children were only a means to an end for him. With every child that passed she could feel his presence grow stronger. Like in some warped way he was feeding of the lives of those he killed.
Jake reacted only slightly less shell shocked than he had with the girl. The one good thing Sarah could note about her young partner was that he at least managed to blink this time. Before his eyes had remained strangely open, riveted on the form of the girl. This time he was able to look away, and blink.
Jake followed her down the alley, away from his fellow officers, and closer to the horde of people now straining to see what was going on. Reporters hovered near the front, shouting at the detectives to get some answers. The emaciated form had been found in the alley between two apartment buildings. Tenants from both buildings had started the crowd, and it had only grown with time.
The Witchblade hummed softly on her wrist. He was here someone was here. Steely eyes swept the crowd before her. Jake noticed Sarah begin to rub her wrist, like she always did when trouble was near. He'd always found it amusing before, how her wrist could sense danger like some people's joints could foresee rain. He broke out of his reverie and started to look hard around him, but he didn't see anything suspicious, just a whole lot of scared people.
She passed him over twice before she sighted in on him. Tattered garments hung loosely around a thing frame. Long, salt and pepper hair, clung to parts of his face. Their eyes locked, and Sarah let out an involuntary shiver. Jake walked over, trying to look normal even though his heart had started to race. "What's up?" He whispered.
"Front row. Tan trench coat. Gray hair." Her eyes never left the man's form. Jake peered into the mass. He spotted their quarry just as the homeless man turned to leave. He worked his way through the crowd, becoming ever more frantic as he pushed his way past the throng.
Sarah and Jake walked as a single unit, striding together toward the edge of the police barrier. Their steps lengthened together, and by the time they reached the first row of people, they were almost running. Sarah let Jake go first, the bigger man pushing his way past people like a linebacker. Sarah scurried behind him, through the empty line he had made.
They spotted the man together, half a block away, heading into a densely populated area of apartment buildings. The alleyways there were like labyrinths, so intricately laid out that one could easily become lost. Once free of the spectators they both broke into a hard sprint. Sarah unclipped the latch of her holster, holding her hand just above the butt of her pistol.
As Jake gained speed, Sarah fell slowly behind. His strides were longer than hers, and no matter how fast she ever ran, she would always be at a disadvantage in that respect. Jake concentrated only on the man ahead of him, the trench coat now flapping behind him, a flag flying high in the wind. His feet skimmed over the pavement, and he had never before run so fast in his life. His lungs burned for more air and he pushed harder.
Frantic and desperate the homeless man turned sharply into a nearby alley. Jake couldn't have been more than five yards behind him at that point. No, there was no way in hell he was going to lose this guy now. Not when he was so close. He hit the turn at full speed, and his legs flew out from under him just as quickly. The blue eyes that had been so riveted on the fleeing man never even noticed the large patch of ice. He hit the pavement with an audible thud, sliding out of control across the ground. Dense particles of dirt and stone tore through his pant legs and delved deep into his flesh. He hit the wall of the building feet first and lay there, stunned.
Jake's right side ached furiously and he cursed his own clumsiness. His head was screaming for him to rise, but for some reason his body seemed unable to comply. He heard footsteps approaching. Sarah leapt over the patch as neatly as a gazelle. She never stopped, never wavered.
The destitute man was less than fit. He was trying to scale a seven foot high wooden wall at the end of the alley, without much success. Flat soled loafer scraped and slid on the boards, failing to catch hold. Sarah almost had him; she could feel it. She reached the wall and jumped for all she was worth, her fingers just scraping the hell of the man's shoe. He had finally found enough of a grip to fling himself over the wall. Sarah took a deep breath, a step back, and then launched herself at the fence once more. Being far more nimble and fit, she reached the top in short order.
Her quarry was just picking himself off the ground. His coat was streaked with mud, caked by grime from the streets. A second thought didn't cross her mind. She just jumped. Landing hard on the man's back she slammed him into the ground. His arms were wrenched behind his back, the handcuffs on almost before he could blink. Sarah brushed a stray piece of hair from her face.
Jake arrived a moment later. He too climbed the wall. He landed heavily on his left leg, favoring his right, and for good reason. Sarah eyed his pants. The denim material had been shredded, and she was hard pressed to see the difference between the dirt from the ground and the rapidly congealing blood on his knee.
"You're bleeding," she said simply, yanking the suspect of the floor roughly. McCarty looked down on himself in surprise. Truthfully, he hadn't even noticed. But now that the fact had been pointed out to him he felt sore, his knee aching with persistent throb. His palms were scraped too, red and oozing from his contact with the asphalt.
"Get cleaned up at the station," Sarah commanded. Ordering her rookie partner around was becoming something of a habit, and not one she entirely disliked.
"Not before we interrogate this creep," Jake said icily.
"No," she shot him a steely gaze. "Before we interview him. Don't worry, I won't start without you." Jake fell silent. There was really no point in ever arguing with Pezzini.
--
".....Tell me the truth Joey!" Sarah demanded from her suspect for the second time an hour and a half later. "I can't help you if you won't tell me the truth. Why were you there today? Why did I see you at their house?" She leaned menacingly over the table, her hands balled into fists. She almost felt guilty about pressuring the perp so hard. He was little more than a child himself. You could hear the youth in his voice when he spoke, bad grammar and all.
Jake's incessant pacing was becoming tiresome. She could see the younger man out of the corner of her eye, limping around at the back of the room. He hadn't stopped moving once the entire time they had been in the interrogation room. He wasn't being helpful either, occasionally yelling incoherently at the man, but never doing anything that could actually be considered useful.
The man averted his eyes, tilting his head toward the floor. "I told you," he whimpered in a tiny voice. "I didn't take those kids."
"Then why were you there Joe? You knew about them before we did, before anyone did. I don't see how that's possible without you being involved. But you say it is, so explain it to me."
"No. No, you're wrong. I loved them. I loved them all. I would visit them, cause I knew they was special. I wouldn't want to hurt any of 'em."
"Special how Joey?" Sarah pressed. "Tell me how."
"He wants them, he does. I was just tryin to protect 'em."
/Enough, enough, enough,/ Jake's head screamed. This cock and bull question and answer wasn't getting them anywhere. This little shit knew where the other children were, and damn if he wasn't going to give it up. Rage and hate filled his veins. The blood roared in his ears. Jake strode forward, nearly knocking Pezzini over as he shoved his way by.
"Protecting them? You murdered them you piece of shit! Where are they you perverted little bastard?!" Jake cried, his face crimson with color. Aquamarine depths burned. He reached across the table, grabbing the scruffy, little man by the collar and yanking him viciously out of the chair. "Tell me!" Joey started to cry.
"McCarty!" Sarah rushed to pull her partner away, but his grip was like a vice. "Let him go Jake!" She grabbed his shirt and threw her weight backward, ripping him away from the suspect. She held onto him as she began to yell.
"What the fuck are you doing Rookie? You're not helping!"
Jake swatted Sarah's arms away. "This isn't getting us anywhere Pez!" he shouted. "Give me five minutes alone with him and we'll know where to find those kids."
"We don't do things like that McCarty. Do you hear me?" His response was to leap at Joey again. Sarah held him back. Never, never had she seen him so livid. "That's it! You're done here. Get out."
Jake turned to her, his mouth twisting into something dreadful. Sarah jutted out her chin a little more. "Get out before I have you thrown out rookie," her voice was icily calm. An animalistic growl escaped from Jake's throat. His hands found the nearby chair and he hurtled it across the room. The glass separating the interrogation and viewing rooms cracked. Then Jake stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Sarah stared at the door for a moment, stuck somewhere between shock and disbelief. She shook her head to clear it. She'd deal with McCarty's little temper tantrum later. Turning back to Joe she straightened her shoulders and drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry about that. He's upset with this case."
Joey nodded soberly. "I understand. It upsets me too." Suddenly his head shot up, his eyes brightening slightly. "But you can help! You can help me protect them."
Sarah shook her head. "I can't do that Joey. We don't know who the next child will be."
"but I do," he told her eagerly. "I can show you. Just let me go and I'll show you. I don't want any more harm to be done."
"Show me how? How do you know who these kids are Joey?"
He smiled softly, his fingers creeping toward his neck. "This tells me." He tugged at a little silver chain that hung around his throat. From under his shirt he pulled out a piece of metal. It twirled on the chain, glittering even in the dim light. There was something about it that was very familiar to Sarah, though she had no idea why.
"May I see that?" She asked, holding out her hand. Joey eyed her suspiciously for a moment before consenting. He pulled the cord off his head and placed the metal thing in Sarah's hand.
Sarah studied it carefully. It had to part of something else, she realized. A piece of a larger amulet. It was a fine silver, intricately designed. The silver part looked like a twisting ray of the sun, attached to a middle that was a deep green. The moment she touched the center, the Witchblade ran hot, buzzing crazily.
"Joey, I'm gonna keep this for a little while." His eyes widened, making him look scared. She smiled slightly, laying a hand on top of his. "Don't worry, I'm going to give it back to you. But first I want a friend to look at it. He knows a lot about old jewelry like this." He nodded slowly, wringing his hands together anxiously across the top of the table.
Sarah rushed from the room then, calling for a uniformed officer. "Where's McCarty?" she asked.
The young man looked at her strangely. "He left a little while ago. Muttered something about taking the rest of the day. Dante is less than thrilled."
"Never mind then. Take the guy I have in the interrogation room down to holding. Don't file any charges just yet either. Got it?" The officer nodded obediently, mutely.
--
"Gabrielle!" Sarah pounded on the heavy wood door with her fist. "Gabrielle, open up, it's Pez." She heard someone moving about the interior of the apartment. The door opened a crack and she spotted a set of dark, distrustful eyes peering out at her. She sighed. "Gabe it's me."
The suspicion vanished almost immediately. He closed the door again, sliding the chain off. With a creak, the door opened and she was let inside. The apartment was exactly as she remembered it, dark and cluttered. A high tech computer hummed along in the background. "I need you to do me a favor."
Gabriele flashed her a small smile. "So what else is new?"
"Can the sarcasm bud, I need your help." She pulled the piece of the amulet out of her coat pocket. "I need all the information you can get on this. I think it part of something bigger. It might be the key to a case I'm working on."
Gabe took the metal work from her. His eyes went sharply from the section to her. "This looks like it was made by the same guy who made the witchblade. Or made at the same time anyway. There are similar characteristics in the folds of the metal."
"I know," Sarah mumbled softly. "That's why I came to you." She could have gone elsewhere, to Irons, even to police evidence, but she didn't want to. Somehow she doubted that Dante would have even humored her idea that the amulet was somehow linked to all of this. And as for Irons, he would have told her only what he wanted her to know. He liked keeping her half on the dark. Besides which, Ian would have been there, watching her with those hawk eyes. She trusted Gabriele, as much as she trusted anyone.
"I'll do what I can," he assured her. "It might take me a while though."
"That's fine. There's something I have to do first anyway." Gabe set the artifact on his desk, still examining it. When he turned back to Sarah, she was gone. He shook his head ruefully and went back to work.
--
Sarah waited outside Jake's door for a moment or two, trying to decide the best course of action. The ride over from Gabriele's really hadn't given her enough time to think of anything good to say. What she most wanted to do was chew out his ass, but something in her mind told her to hold back. There was something about this case that was bothering him greatly, and good sense told her to find out what it was before blowing off the handle.
She didn't bother knocking. He hadn't answered when she had buzzed up, but his car was outside, so he was definitely home. Luckily some half deaf old woman had buzzed her right in. The door was slightly ajar; Jake knew she was coming.
His apartment always managed to put her in just a little bit of awe. The richly lavished loft was far different than anything she would have expected Jake to live in. The only thing that seemed remotely Jake-like were the pictures of him surfing enormous waves. She closed the door behind her, and made her way toward the back. She could hear someone grunting in the shadows.
Fists were flying as she approached him, and Jake was completely oblivious to Sarah's arrival. Hidden in the one dark corner of his home hung a well beaten punching bag. Thick rubber mats lay under and around it. Blonde hair was soaked with sweat and plastered to his face. He danced around the bag on his toes, in socks. Sarah eyed the suspicious red stain growing on the outside of the sock, and had to wonder how long he had been going at the bag.
Every punch had something behind it, like he was trying to strike down an old enemy, a ghost even. The white wife-beater clung to his back and the veins stood out against the skin on his shoulders and neck. So crimson was his face that Sarah feared he might soon pass out. His hands were taped, the knuckles bound securely, but even there tiny pinpricks of blood were beginning to poke through. Two empty bottles of Corona lay at one edge of the mat.
"Jake." Sarah tried to no avail. "Jake!" She yelled this time. Blue eyes flicked briefly in her direction before refocusing on the accursed bag in front of him. Sighing heavily, Sarah stepped in and grabbed the bag to keep it from swinging madly. "Jake stop it before you really hurt yourself."
Jake took a few more wild shots at the beaten bag, but his heart wasn't in it any more. One of the punches flew right by Sarah's ear. She wasn't entirely sure he hadn't done it on purpose. He glared at her once more before stalking away, ripping at the bandages around his palms. "How could you?" He finally spit out, grabbing a third bottle of Corona from his refrigerator.
"he didn't do anything Jake," Sarah told him more calmly than she felt.
"He killed those kids!" There was something else in this protest, a note of anguish she hadn't heard before. "There is nothing worse in this world than someone who would do that to a child. And you protected him."
"He didn't do it," she said again.
"You don't know Pez. You don't know what it's like. What it must have been like for her, with him, alone with no one she knew." He stared past her head, his eyes glazed and vacant.
Jake sat heavily on his sofa, placing the Corona half finished on the coffee table and his head in his hands. His shoulders started to shake. "I wasn't there for her. I should have been there, done something." Sarah sat down next to him, slinging and arm over his shoulders.
"What are you talking about Jake? You're doing all that you can for these kids." Whatever he was talking about now, it wasn't this case, these kids. It was something deeper, and much closer to home.
He lifted his head, craning his neck to look into her with those bloodshot eyes. "No. She was just a little girl. And I wasn't there, and she's dead. Oh God Becca." More than mildly confused Sarah pulled her partner closer. He leaned his head heavily upon her shoulder, weeping uncontrollably. She could feel the dampness of his tears seeping through the collar of her shirt.
The Blade sent her flashes. She could see a small girl with curly blonde hair. She was playing in the surf with a blonde man. Sarah almost smiled. It was Jake, a few years younger and with hair that was a lot longer, but him just the same. This was a happy memory.
Then came the rest, the darker images that would have to be explained. She couldn't get a read on exactly what had happened, but she felt Jake's pain, his sense of loss. The Blade stopped. Sarah hugged him then, really hugged him. She would let him finish this outpouring of emotion, this wave of guilt he'd been holding for so long. For whatever she had just born witness required some explaining, and Jake would tell her when he was ready.
Chapter 3
I'm really sorry this took me so long. Blame it on my muse who refuses to sit still and behave. Or you can blame it on the parents bugging me to write a college entrance essay, either way is fine. Have fun reading. Hopefully 4 won't take me as long. Hope you like it so far. Please review!!!!!!
