Gathering Storm

A/N: I had to split this chapter up because it's quite long! :)

Chapter Four: The Truth (pt 1)

—

Jack made it home later that evening without managing to punch any holes in the walls, surprising perhaps himself more than anyone else. He stood next to his kitchen bench, aimlessly staring down at what was left of the bottle of red wine he'd bought for he and Rachel a few nights earlier. It almost seemed like a lifetime ago now, that night.

He let out a heavy, loud sigh. It wasn't even the first full day of his suspension and already Jack had no idea what he was going to do with his free time. Should he use it to do his own investigation, to try and clear his name? Or should he just let it run its own course and enjoy his forced time off? Jack was soon answering his own questions, grabbing a small notebook and pen, ready to scribble down any ideas about who he thought may have had the motive and opportunity to kill Graham Denton.

But no ideas came. Not a single one.

"Shit!"

As soon as he berated himself, there was a knock at the door. Jack flung his notebook and pen onto the coffee table and walked halfheartedly down the hallway, his feet scuffing along the floor because he couldn't be bothered lifting them properly. He only perked up when he saw who was standing on his front step.

"Hi," Rachel said with a smile, holding up a six pack of beer in one hand and some takeaway food in a plastic bag in the other, "I thought you might feel like these."

"And here I was just happy to see you, but beer and food as well! How can a man refuse?!" Jack laughed as he let her inside.

After sitting down on the couch with their drinks and food, Rachel took the opportunity to once again try and convince Jack to tell Da Silva the truth about his alibi. But as soon as he got even the slightest sense of what she was starting to say, Jack was shaking his head. "No, Rach… I already told you I can't do that. I don't want you to then be falsely accused of something you didn't do. They'll probably find a reason to suspend you too."

"You don't know any of that will happen!" Rachel exclaimed, not with a loud voice however, insisting, "God Jack, please stop being so stubborn. This could help you. Let me help you."

"Do you want to know what you can do to help me?" Jack asked of her, picking up the notebook he'd left on the coffee table, "Help me find out who did kill Denton. Help me come up with some names, Rachel."

Almost giving in, she sighed and spoke quietly, "Okay. We can try and come up with some names, but there's not a lot we can do about any names we may think of. Neither of us can go anywhere near the investigation."

"Rach, I'm not talking about Joe Da Silva and his meandering ways. He can't even call what he's doing a proper investigation. It's a bullshit fishing expedition focused solely on me. I'm talking about us doing our own investigating," Jack saw Rachel glaring at him through unsure eyes, "I know it sounds crazy…"

"It is absolutely crazy!" Rachel was then reminded of when she first met Jack. He had a commissioners hearing hanging over his head, and he did just about anything he could to make sure there was a good result on what he thought was going to be his last case. This time around, although the situation was quite different, he seemed to be in a similar state of mind: he was a man on a mission.

"On a scale of one to ten, how crazy is it, would you say?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, making sure Jack saw her do it too, "More crazy than what you and I are," she poked him a few times in the chest with her index finger.

—

When Rachel got to work the next day, the first thing she noticed upon walking into the office was that Jack's desk had been cleared. Everything except for the telephone and his name holder. "What the hell…" she said in a slight whisper, rubbing her fingers across her forehead which then pushed her usually neat fringe out of place.

"Homicide was in here about half an hour ago, they took most of Jack's stuff," Mick answered Rachel, even though he didn't hear what she said, he just saw the bewildered look on her face.

Rachel sat down at her desk, shaking her head as she did so. Her fringe still out of place.

"If you want something that might help take your mind off things… I've just been chatting to Dave. He checked out the dive gear that Christopher Denton had on him and on the boat but didn't find anything wrong with it," Mick stated, but soon thought that talking about their new case probably wouldn't help Rachel much at all, "Sorry."

"No it's okay, I need to get over it all sooner rather than later," Rachel told him confidently, shaking her head again, "So what do we think about his death now? Just an accident? He didn't know what he was doing or…?"

"Oh, all of the above maybe. I suppose we'll know more once the coroner's report is completed," Mick replied, he too now sitting at his desk but facing Rachel. He looked across at her, almost wondering if she was going to say something else but instead she stayed quiet. It remained that way between the two detectives until Helen walked into the office, after knocking on the door frame a couple of times.

"Laura Denton is waiting downstairs, she wants to speak to someone…" Helen informed them, primarily looking at Mick as she spoke, as if she silently wanted him to be the 'someone' that Laura could talk to.

Mick appeared to understand what Helen wanted and he stood up, "Right, well I'll go and do that," he said, walking out of the office with a wink. Much like Helen, Mick wanted to try and minimise the impact this case had on Rachel, if that was at all possible. He knew that she was having a tough time, even though she was obviously doing her best to try and hide it.

Hiding how she was feeling was one of Rachel's super powers. Well, not just one, it was the one. She was so good at, she could do it in her sleep. Rachel wasn't quite sure if it was something she had simply learnt over the years in her time as a cop, or if it was something she had always been able to do. Either way, it had become second nature. Like a bad habit she was unable to get rid of.

"Laura found a suicide note while going through her brother's things," Mick's voice appeared to enter the office before his body did, "Christopher, that is," he corrected himself, realising that by saying her brother, it could mean one of two.

That was quick, Rachel looked at her watch, but saw that 20 minutes had actually past. "A suicide note?" she then repeated, surprised by the news, "So he went diving with the intention… to kill himself… That's… unusual, isn't it?"

"An unusual form of suicide?" Mick asked, but quickly answered his own question, "I guess it is."

"Was he depressed?"

He shook his head a few times, "Not according to Laura, no. But that doesn't mean he wasn't feeling down. Especially after Graham's–" Mick stopped talking abruptly; it was almost like he'd interrupted himself.

"You can say it, you know Mick," Rachel told him, using a firm yet somehow emotionless voice. "It all seems a bit off though, don't you think? A man, not depressed according to his sister, suddenly kills himself by the means of drowning or suffocating while diving… I mean, I know people kill themselves. But…" she ended with a shrug, unsure of what she was trying to say.

—

Tired and bored of sitting around at home with his own thoughts, Jack decided he had to do something. It was only the first few hours of the first day of his suspension and he already wanted his job back. Jack liked his job. He liked being a detective. And the majority of the time he was pretty good at it too. Except for this time it seemed, because annoyingly, there was only one name written down in his 'who the hell killed Graham Denton?' notebook, one lousy bloody name.

Alex Grenville.

Jack didn't even think Alex Grenville had it in him to kill a fly, let alone a human being. But he did get the feeling that Alex may know something. And that was enough for Jack. He didn't care if he was bending or even breaking any rules. But before he did anything about going to find Alex, Jack drove to the station. He wanted to see Rachel. When he hadn't been thinking about the case, it was Rachel that was in his mind.

"Jack, what are you doing here?" Helen huffed as soon as she saw him walking through the open door, the stern frown on her face suggesting she wasn't happy to see him there. "You know you can't be at work while you're suspended! If Da Silva or Jeff saw you…" she shook her head disapprovingly.

"I'm just here to see Rachel, that's all," he said, folding his arms across his chest.

"Ever heard of the telephone? It's a fancy invention from the 19th century, made even more accessible these days by the mobile phone. You could call her," Helen wasn't in the mood for hearing any excuses from Jack, "In fact, I should make you leave right now and call her…"

"But?"

Helen groaned out of pure frustration towards the detective, "But! You're here, aren't you?" she shook her head when she saw him grin a little, like a child getting his own way, "So, I will call Rachel down… using the telephone! And you can wait for her outside."

Jack chuckled quietly to himself as he went outside and stood in the sunshine to the left of the building, out of immediate view. He'd always liked Helen. What you see is what you get with her, and Jack respected her greatly for that.

"Jack," he heard Rachel's soft voice come from behind him a few minutes later. He spun around on his heels, feeling what he could only describe as a mix of relief and happiness, when he saw her. As Rachel walked towards him, it was obvious that she was wondering what he was doing there. But she didn't ask. She wanted to let Jack tell her what was happening.

"I haven't been the easiest person to deal with over these last few days or so and I'm sorry," Jack began, and hearing him apologise almost made Rachel brace herself for the worst. He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently, "And I know you don't need to hear this right now, Rach. Actually you probably don't even want to hear this either…"

"Jack, whatever you're planning to do, you're right, it's not something I need to know," she tried to preempt what he was going to tell her, thinking back to their conversation the night before. But when Jack started to shake his head, she frowned, realising that perhaps she was assuming too much. "Sorry, what is it? Have you thought of some names? Is that why you're here?"

"No. Well… yes, there is one stupid name… that I thought of this morning," Jack stuttered a little as he spoke initially. Still holding Rachel's hand, he used it to pull her closer to him and she didn't resist, "But no, that's not why I'm here."

"Okay?"

Jack lowered his head, "I'm here because I need to –"

"Detectives," Joe Da Silva's booming voice cut through the air, causing Jack and Rachel to both flinch slightly. They quickly pulled away from each other, both hoping that Joe didn't see the close proximity between them. "I'm not going to bother asking you why you're here, Christey," he announced, pulling his shoulders back to correct his posture, "But if you don't leave right now, I'll happily find another reason to have your suspension extended beyond this investigation."

With only a small, sideways glance at Rachel, Jack walked down the path towards the carpark. There were many, many things he wanted to say to Da Silva but that man just wasn't worth the trouble, Jack thought.

When Jack was well out of sight, Joe turned around and started to walk towards the building, but as he did so, called out, "Rachel, I'd like a word if you don't mind."

"Crap," Rachel said under her breath, and reluctantly followed him as he headed up two sets of stairs to the roof. Once there, she felt her stomach sink to the ground as soon as Joe started to open his mouth.

"You and Christey, is there something going on between the two of you that I should know about?" Joe asked nosily; he knew it wasn't really any of his business but he still said it anyway.

"No," Rachel replied. Her negative response was directed towards the 'I should know about' part of his question.

Joe tilted his head to one side slightly and gave her a look that said he didn't really believe her, "You know, I don't particularly care if there is something going on between you or not. Jack's anger towards Graham Denton would actually make a whole lotta sense if there was. Although I never would have picked you to be the kind of person to date a colleague."

Rachel inhaled sharply through clenched teeth, "Is there a point to all this, Joe?" she asked, one hand placed on her hip, not in the mood for his judgement, "Because if there's not, I'm going back inside. I have work to do."

"And I have work to do too, Rachel," he retorted, gesturing with his index finger to make sure she didn't leave quite yet, "Finding out who killed Denton, in case you've forgotten. And I happen to think I have figured it out, I just need some hard evidence."

"It wasn't Jack!"

"Oh?" Joe raised both his eyebrows, lines forming on his forehead making him look much older. He walked over to Rachel, saying into her ear, "And you know that for sure do you?" Joe almost goaded her arrogantly but suggestively as well, and he started to walk away; he felt he had the better of the conversation.

"He was with me that night!" Rachel blurted out loudly before she even thought about or knew what she was saying. Her head immediately dropped. Fuck.

Joe stopped in his tracks, completely still. As he turned back around to half face Rachel, he slowly started to nod in realisation. It definitely all made sense now. But nothing, not even an alibi in Rachel, was going to change the fact that he still thought Jack was very capable of murder.

—

"It just came out… I'm sorry," Rachel sheepishly told Jack over the phone. Despite having some paperwork to do, she'd stayed out on the roof after Joe left. She had a feeling that Joe would go straight to Jeff and tell him what she said, and Rachel wasn't prepared for what the Chief Inspector's reaction might be just yet.

Sitting in his car parked outside the water taxi company where Alex Grenville worked, Jack let out a small sigh. However, he wasn't annoyed with her, "It's okay, Rach. Don't worry about it," he replied honestly.

"I think he was deliberately trying to rile me. Especially after he saw us…" she said with an eventual frown and long-winded sigh, becoming aware that that was definitely what Joe had done. Even though he probably wasn't expecting to hear what came out of her mouth.

"Of course he was riling you, he's the definition of the word 'dickhead'," Jack answered with a deadpan tone. "Hey Rach, I have to go, alright?" he saw Alex leaving the main building and head down towards the wharf, "I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, but wait Jack, what are you doing? Where are you?" Rachel tried to ask, but quickly realised that he'd hung up and she was talking to the dial tone, "Dammit," she snapped her flip phone shut. She thought about calling him back but hearing footsteps made her think twice.

Standing at the top of the stairs was Helen, trying to shade her squinted eyes with one hand from the bright sunshine. "Jeff wants to see you in his office," she said in a calm voice.

Rachel took a few deep but quiet breaths in and out before she said, "Sure," and followed Helen down the stairs in a nervous silence. Once in Jeff's office, she sat down on one of the chairs in front of his desk, waiting for him to begin his tirade.

Jeff stared at her for an uncomfortable amount of seconds. He'd never really yelled at or been too angry with Rachel in the four years he had known her, and he wasn't about to start now. Instead, he was a little disappointed. "You and Jack…" he started off by saying, the disappointment obvious in his voice, "Da Silva told me."

"Listen, Jeff –"

Jeff held up his right hand, "I don't need to hear it, Rachel. I'd just like to be kept in the loop next time, so I don't look like a complete idiot when I try to defend officers under my command."

Rachel wanted to roll her eyes. In that exact moment, he was like the Jeff of old; the Jeff from when Rachel first started working at the Sydney Water Police. In those days, he was an arrogant Senior Sergeant who only appeared to care about how he looked to other people. And right now, there seemed to be little to no regard for Jack at all and that bugged Rachel.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you what I think about it either," he then continued, bluntly referring to the relationship between Rachel and Jack.

"No."

"What I will tell you, however, is that I know I can't necessarily do anything about it. There is no rule against two police officers from the same unit being in a sexual relationship," Jeff explained to her firmly. For some reason Rachel felt uneasy by his use of the word 'sexual'; like it was her father speaking. "But if I see the two of you, at any point, start to become unprofessional in even the slightest way, there will be no hesitation from me in having either of you transferred out of here. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Rachel answered with a single nod.

"Okay, good," Jeff nodded as well, happy the elephant in the room had been addressed. "Now the next thing I need to talk to you about is updating your statement. Jack most definitely needs to as well but I will talk to him a little later," he glanced down at an open folder on his desk and picked up a piece of paper. Written on it, was Rachel's original statement from her interview with Da Silva. She hadn't mentioned anything about where she was the night Graham Denton was killed, but she wasn't asked either.

"I'll do that now," she answered with a half-smile, and Jeff gave her the statement, "Is there anything else?"

"No, that's all. Thanks Rachel."

—

At the wharf where the water taxis were docked, Jack caught up with Alex Grenville just before he was about to board one of the boats. Immediately recognising the suspended detective, an alarmed looking Alex started to freak out and said to him in a fast, almost manic manner, "Why are you here? You can't be here! They're probably watching me."

"Do I look like I give a shit, Grenville?" Jack growled aggressively through his teeth, "I need answers right now. And you're going to give them to me," he paused, noticing that Alex almost looked scared, "Pretend I'm a bloody customer if that helps you."

Alex's eyes wandered around, trying to see if there was anyone watching them. He stepped on board the water taxi and gestured Jack to do the same, hoarsely whispering, "Come on," as he did so.

Jack followed, and as soon as Alex started the boat's engine, demanded to know, "So you can help me?"

He ran an anxious hand through his dark, gel slicked hair, "I don't know! I don't even know what you want."

"Oh come off it! Don't play those stupid games with me," Jack exclaimed loudly, holding onto a handrail as Alex finally guided the boat away from the wharf and into the open water of the harbour, "You know exactly what I want."

Alex sighed, slowing the boat down until it was almost drifting slightly. He'd heard about Graham Denton's murder, and was a little put out by the fact that the man who was rumoured to have killed Denton was standing on his boat.

"Well?"

"I don't know who killed Graham Denton. I swear," Alex eventually answered. He could feel Jack's eyes burning into him at that very moment. "I actually thought it was you… You know, after what he did –almost did to your partner that night at the power station."

"And you know about that, do you?" Jack asked, speaking of the near miss on Rachel's life.

"It was in the paper."

Jack rolled his eyes. As if a little shit like Alex Grenville would even be remotely interested in reading the newspaper. "Did you know Denton was going to be there that night?"

"I knew someone was going to be there. I told you they watch me. They watch me all of the time. But I didn't know who it was going to be…" he answered, as the wake from a ferry made the smaller boat rock from side to side.

"But you do know who killed him?" Jack asked ever so bluntly, closely watching Alex's face turn a pale shade of white-ish grey, "I know you know, so just bloody tell me. The quicker you tell me, the quicker I'll piss off," he saw Alex's mouth opened a little before shutting again. "Come on!" Jack was getting impatient, something of a normal feeling for him over the past few days, "A name, Grenville. Anytime you're ready."

"Maybe… Charlie Driscoll," he eventually said in a mouselike, timid way, his eyes deliberately turned away from Jack because he refused to look at the detective. He was almost ashamed of himself for giving in to Jack's intimating stance.

A small frown formed on Jack's face; the name didn't sound familiar to him at all, "And who the hell is he?" he demanded to know, his voice raised to a level which made Alex jump.

"She."

"A woman?" Jack was taken by surprise, "Hang on, you think a woman killed Graham Denton? Is that what you're telling me?"

Alex finally worked up some courage to look across at Jack, "I don't know! I told you I don't know. Not for sure. She's just… she's the woman behind the scam… I can only guess that maybe she was pissed off with Graham for the stuff that happened at the power station. So…" his head dropped and his eyes left Jack, "Maybe she killed him because of it. I don't know!"

"Okay," he nodded, a less harsh tone of voice made Alex feel a little relieved. Jack started to think about how he'd be able to somehow use the information he received, "Take me to the Sydney Water Police wharf."

—

Gavin and Tommy were securing the Nemesis to the wharf when they spotted Jack arriving on the water taxi. Gavin came very close to making a teasing remark about the detective's mobile phone, thinking back to the day where (mostly) everyone found out about Jack and Rachel's tryst. But seeing the 'don't mess with me' expression on Jack's face made Gavin keep his mouth tightly shut.

"Whatever you're thinking of saying, Gavin, I'd think again if I were you," Jack appeared to read his mind as he walked rather quickly, and with meaning, past the two Senior Constables, not bothering to stop as he spoke.

Gavin frowned as Jack continued to walk away, looking over at Tommy who was grinning back at him, "What?" he asked in an almost innocent way, "I wasn't going to say anything."

"No but you were thinking it!" Tommy chuckled unsympathetically, "And sometimes that's enough, Gavin!"

Inside the station, a sudden wave of déjà vu swept over Helen when she saw Jack standing in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. "Please don't tell me you're after Rachel again, Jack," she said, almost feeling fed up with him.

"Actually no. Jeff would be ideal, but if Da Silva is here, fine," Jack advised her.

Helen's eyes narrowed, asking, "And what's wrong with the telephone this time?" but when Jack didn't offer any kind of reply, she threw her hands in the air, "Oh alright! Da Silva isn't here, but Jeff's in his office. I'll let him know you're on your way up."

"Thanks Helen," Jack answered with a genuineness that surprised her. He paced upstairs, barely giving Helen time to let Jeff know that he was there. As he walked directly past the detectives office, Jack saw Rachel sitting at her desk with the laptop in front of her. "Hey Rach," Jack said, poking his head through the open door. Hearing his voice appeared to startle Rachel a little and Jack apologised.

"Are you here to see Jeff? Or Da Silva?" she guessed.

"Jeff. Dickhead Da Silva isn't here apparently," Jack wanted to tell Rachel about what Grenville had said, but he stopped himself, mainly because he saw an odd look appear her face as soon as he said Jeff's name. "Hey, what is it?"

Rachel looked down at the laptop screen for a moment and then back at Jack, who was staring at her through worried blue eyes. She sighed heavily, "After I stupidly blurted out what I did to Da Silva… he went straight to Jeff and told him about it… us."

"Ah," Jack nodded understandingly, "So I should expect to get a roasting from Jeff about it?"

"Something like that."

"Christey," came Jeff's voice from somewhere in the corridor, "My office please."

Jack quickly glanced at Rachel before following Jeff. He wasn't looking forward to what Jeff was going to say, but remained upbeat that somehow he would soon be cleared of Graham Denton's murder and be back at work.

"Have a seat, thanks Jack," Jeff extended his arm towards a chair in front of his desk, almost being a little too pleasant for Jack's liking. When he was seated, Jeff began the conversation by saying, "I take it you have a good reason for being here? Because you're on your second strike and well on the way to your third, according to Da Silva."

"Second strike? Geez, when did the first one happen?" Jack asked sarcastically, copping an immediate glare from Jeff. "Look Jeff," he then said, realising that being smart wasn't going to get him anywhere, "I didn't kill Denton, and I think you know that too. I have the name of someone, a woman, who may be involved. Charlie Driscoll."

"Do I want to know how you even got that name, Jack? You shouldn't be talking to anyone about any of this," Jeff shook his head, dumbfounded by the detective's actions.

Jack became angry again, "I'm pretty much up for murder here! Da Silva thinks I'm as guilty as they come," he exclaimed, his voice displaying his anger but he didn't care, "What do you expect me to do? Sit around on my arse at home all day, waiting to be charged with a murder I didn't commit!"

Jeff sighed and decided that it would be a good time to change the subject. He'd had Jack's statement sitting on his desk in front of him for most of the day, and thought now was the time to talk about it, "I need you to update your statement, Jack. Your whereabouts and who you were with the night Graham Denton was killed. Your little… lie… about that hasn't helped your case."

Jack screwed up his nose in disbelief, "It wasn't a lie... as such…" he soon realised that saying it to Rachel was okay, but saying it out loud in front of Jeff just sounded plain stupid.

"Jack. Just update your statement and give it back to me, okay?" Jeff wasn't in the mood to argue, but did add, "I will inform Da Silva about the… name you gave me. Charlie Driscoll was it?" Jack nodded, "But he's going to want to know where and who that name came from and I won't be lying."

"Whatever, Jeff."

—

At Jack's house later that evening, Rachel poured them each a glass of red wine; the remainder of the bottle that Jack had bought. As she handed him his glass, she asked, "What were you going to tell me at the station earlier today? You know, before Da Silva interrupted."

Even though the day hadn't been that tiring for him, Jack sat down on the couch heavily. He stayed quiet for about 30 seconds, thinking back to what it was he wanted to tell her. It wasn't so much that Jack needed to remember what he was going to say, he just felt hesitant all of a sudden. "Okay," he said quietly, mustering up all the courage he could, "Now, if you want to leave after I tell you this, it's alright…"

"Huh?" Rachel sat down next to him, obviously confused.

Jack decided to bite the bullet and stop being so hesitant. What's the worst that could happen, he asked himself. But as he went to speak, Rachel's phone starting ringing loudly from inside her jacket pocket, and almost simultaneously, there were multiple loud, hard knocks at the door. "Is that a coincidence or what," Jack scoffed, as Rachel answered her phone.

"Goldstein," she said, and straight away a look of concern flashed in her eyes, "Hang on, Helen… what?… Okay… Will do, bye."

"What?" Jack asked, seeing the worried expression on her face. The loud knocks on the door continued, seeming to get more forceful each time.

"Helen said Da Silva is on his way here," Rachel answered, stunned by what she was about to say, "Well… that's probably him right now. He has a search warrant."

—

To be concluded in The Truth part 2!