Chapter XVI

Case Files

She seemed so relaxed, so…not Sara that it was almost surreal. She smiled, she laughed, she talked about her past. She was not Sara Sidle, CSI; she was just Sara. Sofia liked this 'Just Sara'. She also found that she liked Captain Burgundy, Janet. They bounced from topic to topic, chatting and laughing. Sara bore the brunt of the conversation; there were several jokes on her behalf, and many stories of the embarrassing type.

They were discussing what toppings to get on an impromptu pizza when Sofia's phone rang. She scowled at the offensive piece of machinery. Her shift didn't start for another hour or two. She shot an apologetic look at the rest and flipped the phone open, "Curtis." It was Vega on the other side, "Yo, Curtis, you got a guy here raising seven kinds of Hell. Demanding to see his son." Sofia pushed back her blonde hair with one hand. "This ranting guy have a name?" There was a moment of silence and the subtle sound of shuffling papers, "Yeah, says his name is Doyle Jacobs. You think he's connected to that double you're working?" For a detective, sometimes Vega could be really thick. "Probably, I'll be right there." She closed the phone, the slight click of plastic meeting plastic echoed through the silent room, all eyes were on her. She sighed, she didn't want to be the one to break up the love-fest…or put the walls back up in Sara's eyes. "That was Vega. We've got a lead on the Jacobs case." Just as she feared, she saw Sara go stiff, "The father." Sofia nodded. Catherine stood, "Well, looks like that pizza will have to wait."

They went outside, to the cars. Catherine waved the rest of them ahead, she had to drop off Lindsey. So, it was Sara, Sofia and Janet in Sofia's city-issued Sedan. Janet cleared her throat and slid on her sunglasses, "Tell me about the case." Sara began going through the Jacobs case as Sofia navigated the early-evening traffic. Gone were the mother and daughter of before, now it was CSI and Police Captain.

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There was no incredible resemblance between the boy they'd found at the scene of his own mother's murder and the man who sat in the interrogation room behind the viewing window. Catherine wasn't there yet, and she'd be pissed that they'd started without her, but he was ready to talk, they both knew it. Janet stayed in the Observation Room. "This isn't my house, you two go on."

They entered the room, they both took a seat across from him and Sara placed the files on the table between them.

He looked from one face to the other. "Where is Sinclair? IS he okay? They wouldn't tell me anything. I am his father. His father, damn it!" His hand went to the inside of his jacket and Sofia tensed, but all he brought out was a worn photograph, "This is the only picture I have of him, he was four. Just before Lorelei took off with him. I went on a business trip to Boston and when I got back…they were gone. I wouldn't have minded if it was just Lorelei, but she took my son. My son." He looked at each of them. "The Police couldn't do anything. They said that it wasn't a crime. She took my son and it wasn't a crime. Now I hear he's here and she's dead and no one will let me see him!"

Sofia frowned, "Where were you two nights ago, sir?" He blinked, "At home, in Atlanta." She nodded, "Can you confirm that?" He scoffed, "You think I killed Lorelei? No. No, I was at home, I left work at nine and spent the next ten hours or so drinking like a fish and staring at the TV. Listen, Detectives, the highlight of my week is when The Braves play. I just want to take my son and go home. I'll do anything you want. Tests, DNA, whatever. I just want to take my son and go home."

Sara nodded solemnly. "Mr. Jacobs, Doyle. Your son is fine, in protective custody right now…but... there is a possibility, a strong one, that he may have killed your estranged wife and the other man found in her home." He went stock-still for a moment and his ragged face went pale. "Jesus Christ." He ran his hands through his hair. "Oh Jesus."

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They left him to fill out forms. They had taken a DNA sample and Wendy was running it through as priority. Janet watched them, Sara going over the files with the Detective. She could see the subtle, bitter pain in Sara's eyes and wanted to hold her close until it was gone. Now, though, was not the time or the place. Sara had a job to do, just like everyone else did. That didn't stop the memories, though.

San Francisco, California

1989

She had scrubbed at her skin, but she could still feel the filth on her. Twenty dead teens, they'd been little more then girls. The bastards had herded the girls into a shipping container and then they'd open fire with a fucking machine gun. None of them had even been able to speak English. They'd been kidnapped from China and sold like meat to the brothels that plagued the City. It had been her fault. If she hadn't pushed so hard…they might all still be alive. She and Harv had been working the case for weeks. They'd both been short tempered and snappy and they'd pushed too hard. The wrong people had caught wind of the investigation and they'd cut their losses.

Losses, business assets - that were all those girls had been to them. She had unlocked the bolt on that container and wrenched open the door. She'd found those girls. They'd been riddled with bullets; there had been so much blood. Blood everywhere.

She pulled on her robe and went out to sit on the couch. Tears poured down her cheeks and she didn't move to wipe them. Sometimes she hated her job so much. This was one of the cases that made her question why it was she did what she did. She could have done anything with her life. Why did she muck around in the underbelly of the City, fighting a never ending battle that she could not win?

"Janet?" She looked up and blotted at her tear-stained face. Standing there, a silhouette against the light of her bedroom was Sara. "What's wrong?"

She sniffed back another round of sobs. "Nothing, nothing. Just a bad day at work." Sara crossed the small room over to her. "Want to talk about it?" She shook her head. Sara frowned and sat down beside her. The young woman put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug, and Janet broke down and began to cry. Sara held onto her.

That was why Janet did what she did. She did it for the Sara Sidles of the world.

Janet was startled out of her thoughts by a wild half-scream, "SARA!" Someone, she had no idea who, plowed by her and grabbed Sara in a tight bear-hug. "Oh God, I was so worried! You're okay, you're all right!"

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Sara suddenly found herself in a crushing hug. She pushed the offending body off. "I missed you too, Nicky. What's going on?" She searched his face, the Texan was pale and he looked shaky. "Nick, what's going on?" He drew in a deep breath. "Your apartment, Sar, someone torched your apartment…we thought…" He shook his head and hugged her again. "We were called in to work an Arson and when we saw the address… Oh God, we thought that you might have…"

Now it was Sara's turn to be pale. "My apartment."