Jess and Nicole sat at opposite sides of the table in the quaint café, refusing to look at each other. The waitresses were gossiping, wondering who these people were and what had happened. A young blonde walked up to the table; her name tag read "Julie".

"Hello, my name is Julie and I'll be your server today. What can I get—," she began.

"Nothing!" Jess and Nicole barked at the same time. They caught each others' eye and scowled.

Antonio and Sunny pulled up outside the business and got out. "Whoa," said Antonio, when he caught sight of the pair. "Um, Sunny? Don't do or say anything, this is…bad."

"Who are they?" she asked curiously.

"Those would be my partners, Nicole Scott and Jess Mastriani."

"Jess?" Sunny said, her eyes lighting up like she was getting the best news ever. She ran over to the pair and saw the agent's face. "Jess!" she said loudly.

The agent spun around. "Sunny!" she said, a huge smile forming in her face. Jess hugged her former Indiana teammate. "How have you been?" she asked.

"I've been fine," she replied, her grin fading marginally. "It's been dull without you and Brooke," she confessed. Her face brightened. "But I'm so glad to see you!"

"So Brooke took the job?" Jess asked. Sunny nodded. "It's just you and Alan, then…"

Sunny's face turned down. "Yes, that's right. So, D.C., huh? Still getting those visions?" she said, changing the subject.

"Yep, they're still coming, brutal as ever!" Jess managed a grin, but inside she was broken. How could she just have left Sunny like that? And with Brooke in San Francisco… She felt awful about forgetting Sunny; cheerful, bubbly, happy, supportive Sunny, like she did.

Sunny, meanwhile, remembered the other woman Jess had been sitting with. "Where are my manners? Hello, my name is Sunny, my last name is Estrada, buut may last name doesn't matter 'cause everyone just calls me Sunny, and I live in Indiana, I work at the field office there— forensics division, real elite— and…" she rambled.

Nicole laughed. "I'm Nicole Scott. Missing Persons Division, D.C. Field Team. Nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand, and Sunny smiled, shaking it,

"So, what do we know?" asked Sunny.

"Well," Jess replied, "Her daughter says she knows nothing, but she lied to us. I think it's connected to the church. Loretta Rayson is diabetic, so we need to get to her— fast."

"We also know that she was worried before she disappeared. I've already confirmed that no government department was following her, but that doesn't mean we should disregard it. We have no idea what we're up against here— serial killer, militia group, mafia?" Antonio supplied.

"I think we need to check out the church more. Security tapes and parishioners might help," Jess responded.

"What about the ex-husband? We should check into that situation, too," said Sunny.

Nicole's phone rang. "That'll be Pollock," she groaned, stepping outside to answer it.

"So...what happened?" Antonio asked.

Jess sighed. "She's not convinced that we have a kidnapping. She thinks that Loretta was paranoid and that she just ran away."

Antonio shook his head. "Nic is always so stubborn…"

"So, you and Nicole are…together?" said Sunny curiously. Antonio gave her a tight-lipped grin.

"Yeah, we are."

Sunny laughed. "Don't be embarrassed, you look cute together," she chided.

"Are we?" he asked hesitantly.

"You sure are," she said firmly.

"Scott?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Any progress on the Rayson case?"

"Well, we're discussing options right now—"

"Any progress, agent?"

"Just a few leads, sir."

"And are you, Mastriani, Cortez, and Estrada aware that the victim is a diabetic?"

"Yes, sir—"

"Then why haven't you found her?"

"We're working on it —"

"Find her, Scott." Click.

Nicole looked at the phone in her hand. Everyone else obviously thought it was a kidnapping, but no one could pull off a crime like that without leaving something behind! They would just have to work off of Jess's visions and their instincts to find something to help the case.

"Hello again, Alecia," said Jess.

"Agent," she said in a bored tone. "Now's not a good time," she spat, tying to close the door.

"I'd like to ask you a few questions, Mrs. Stuart—"

"Now," she repeated with flashing eyes, "is not a good time!"

A car pulled up in the driveway and honked twice. Alecia sighed. "Look what you've done; now I'm not ready!" she sobbed; a moment later, she had grabbed her purse, hopped into the car, and slammed the door. The tires squealed and they were gone.

Jess smiled and called her boss.

Pollock was waiting in his office for a phone call about the case long after the rest of the city had fallen asleep. This case, somehow, had gotten to him. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't out there with the team, and they only contacted each other through calling with new developments. Maybe that's why he was so nervous and obsessive.

His desk set rang loudly, making him jump. He answered quickly…it was Jess. Mastriani may have been his favorite agent so far. She brought fresh ideas to the team, while still keeping her own unique style. Jess could negotiate easily, and people trusted her. Plus, she was partially psychic, and that was a valuable asset to them.

Still, he had to maintain his gruff demeanor. "What, Mastriani? You find her yet?" he barked.

"No, sir, but I would like permission to search a suspect's home without a warrant." Another perk: she was always ready to respond with a "sir!" …though most of the time she was being sarcastic.

"A lead?" he asked, just to be sure.

"Yes, sir."

"A reliable lead? One of those visions?"

"Yes."

"Permission granted," he sighed, hanging up. Knowing Mastriani, she would be kicking in the door right about now.

Back at the Ohio base, Antonio and Sunny were checking out the circumstances of the night the victim went missing.

"How long do you have a visual on her car, Antonio?"

"For about three blocks," he replied after checking. "But another car cuts in behind her after the third camera. I can't get a license plate from a visual, but I'll have it I. and put out an APB."

"Okay. Wait— I just got a report from a local cop on the radio."

"How local?"

"A few towns over."

"Let's hear it."

"Jonathan Teardon, age 57, has been found dead in his office. He was the manager of the financial end of some corporation."

"What's the corporation?"

Sunny poured over thousand of records, looking for the desired information. "Rocky Pond Real Estate," she said finally. "A division of Balrat (A/N: pronounced Bull-rah') industries".

""Do you think the acts are related?"

"I don't know…yet. Let's wait for the autopsy results."