Disclaimer: The Pretender nor any of it’s characters is not mine. And I have to admit I sure as hell have stolen from the work of a few other talented people. I use some lines from songs and adapt them to my liking. But I do refer to and when I do that. And, the title and all chapter titles are not mine either. They are all different song-titles that just seem to fit. All songs are owned by Bruce Springsteen.



AN: All right folks, this is my first take in a fanfic, actually in fiction at all. Please take note that English is not my first language, so the inevitable grammar/spelling mistakes should be blamed on my teachers! (yeah right!) This Story is betaed from Part 4!





Souls of the Departed – 1



‘Secret Garden’





Daylight was fading, it was an October afternoon, when night took over every day a little earlier. She stood there, statue-like, silent, in her own backyard, in the already cold and wet grass.

She was cold but not for the external forces of nature, but for the coldness inside her, creeping down her body, from head downwards, inspired by the view her eyes took in, sending the message down right into her soul. She looked up at her porch, the very porch she found her then lover, Thomas – God has it really been more than three years? – dead. Shot, point blank in the head.



Cold, she felt cold, numb and empty. Looking up there, lost in thought. Thoughts about him, about what could have been and never will be.



She had loved him, and he had loved her. It was all that counted, well back then anyway. But love was not enough, their love was not enough – no, not theirs, hers. Her love could not save him, quite to the contrary. Her love for his life. That’s what it had been really .



It became dark quickly, the tall woman stood there nevertheless. She was a beautiful woman, and she knew it. She was that kind of woman that made men turn around, whistle and drool. Eying her, made men brave in bars – only to the point until they got to look into her steel-blue eyes. When she was in the mood, that look could freeze lava, it would make one shiver even if in mid-summer Louisiana.



But it was him, Thomas, that made her feel really beautiful. Not just outside, but inside as well. It was in his arms, that she began to hope that she not just looked like her mother, but she WAS like her mother.

More than three years have passed since she last was in his arms and God did she miss him, miss waking up in his arms, feeling beautiful.



Only two men made her feel that way in her life. For the longest time she thought the other was her father, but she was merely deceiving herself. (That biologically he was not her father did not matter to her in this regard) Deceiving to an almost self-destructing level. How she had wanted that other to be her father.



When she was honest to herself, and now she could, he had never made her feel that way. He may have commented her on her looks, and she was even sure he had been somehow proud at the fact that she looked just like her mother. But he had never WANTED her to be like her mother, that one was for sure.



For her safety or his, was still a gnawing question.



The very man she’d loved as her father all her life, she’d craved attention from, she would’ve done anything for – and she had done anything for him, going even so far as killing, and risking her own life more than once – would never grant her her biggest wish: becoming the woman her mother would have wanted her to become, would have been proud of.



No, the other man who made her feel so much better, so much more beautiful and so much more worth being her mothers’ daughter, was her very enemy.

Well not really her enemy, her prey. An enemy would be someone you hate. And she did not hate him. She may loath him at times, be angry at him beyond reason and curse him in a way that made grown men blush, but she did not hate him.



She chased him, he was her prey, she was his huntress, that was their fate. Did she have a choice in that matter, as he so frequently claimed? She did not think so, that fate had been sealed a long time ago, for both of them. At a time when choice had not been an option, at least not for her. Her father had told her so.



For him neither. Why else would he stay there for thirty years and not escape sooner. He could have - he should have.



She knew he was that other person. She had known him almost all her life. They had met at the Centre, both so young, so incredibly young. Both were children of their environment, and it was not a healthy environment. They found solace in each other’s presence, found friendship in a place that did not know about the concept of friendship.



She remembered their first kiss, she remembered how he consoled her after Faith had died, took her into his arms and gave her hope against hope. But what she remembered most, was the way he looked at her. The look of admiration, awe, regret, sympathy, the look of love in such a pure childish innocent way, but still, the look of love.



He still gave her that look at times, she had seen it. She recognized it, and she still felt rewarded in a way by it. Rewarded, for she knew that he still admired her beauty, her stubbornness, her ability to adapt and to survive, he admired her strength. And she drew that very strength out of that look more than out of everything else in her life.



And now, after almost six years of chasing, it maybe was time for her to choose.

Not because of him, though. She was tired of chasing, of fighting, of schlepping across the country and never getting anywhere.

Not for him. For her and her only. She had dreamed about leaving many times.



Is a dream a lie when it does not come true?

By god, she has had her fill of lies in her life. So many lies they would last three lives!



It was now complete dark in her backyard. Finally she moved. One step after the other, up the three steps to the backdoor. With a longing sigh, she took one more look to her left. The spot where she found Thomas with the small crimson-red spot on his temple.



Has it been really more than three years? – ‘Well’, she thought, ‘I guess it is time to choose.’

Disclaimer: The Pretender nor any of it’s characters is not mine.



Souls of the Departed – 2



‘She’s the One’





He pulled his coat tighter around his body. It was getting colder by the minute. – ‘God, isn’t she cold?’



He stood a reasonable distance away from her in the shadow of an ancient oak tree. He watched her, watched over her not sure what to make of the still standing figure in the grass. Not moving for more than an hour, not wavering, not shifting weight from one leg to another. Standing still, her arms wrapped around herself, but not as if she was feeling cold. She seemed to brace herself, to hold herself in order not to falter, not to give in to whatever is pulling inside her to finally give in.



She was dressed in her usual business attire. High heels not made for standing in grass, a short skirt that ended well above her knees and the matching jacket to the grey skirt. Though already dark, he still could make out the lighter colour of her blouse. Blue-like anthracite, it was silk, he could see that, for it glimmered in the light that came slightly from the inside of her house.



Perfect, it fit her perfect. But he was sure that every apparel on the face on this earth would fit her perfect, she made it perfect.



She was perfection, in his eyes anyway, and what he had experienced in the past, in many a men’s eyes just as well. Sometimes, when his life was miserable and cruel, no matter if way back then in the Centre, or now, on a tough pretend, all he had to do was close his eyes and he saw her. So much beauty. No matter how difficult his life had been at those specific moments, a picture of her always had brought a smile onto his face. He admired her body, yes. Her legs were not from this world, her always accentuated figure was not just right but, well, perfect.



How she kept that figure with her manner of living was beyond him. She ate too little and drank too much. Others would look like torn out, skinned out bodies with no strength to comprehend. But not her. Her strength was beyond belief, beyond reason and sometimes beyond his comprehension and imagination, and he had a pretty good imagination.



But what he had always admired most, and what he was sorry he could not see at the moment, were her eyes. Blue like ice on an Antarctic morning, blue as steel in a cloudless sunrise. Clear like the spring water in uninhabited mountains.



Her eyes, straight forward, never blinking, always trying to conceal her real feelings but at the same time telling novels to someone who would care enough to take a closer look.



Strong and independent, vulnerable and in need of affection. She was the walking, talking ordering, cursing contradiction in personification.

She was a force to be reckoned with. He was sure that, if she’d set her mind onto something, nothing could withstand her. The very forces of nature would tremble. He’d seen formidable forces out there and he would never underestimate the threats this world poses.



But when it came to her, you’re talking the ultimate threat. She's proven time and time again that she'll plough through any obstacle this world would throw in her way. She'll walk barefoot through the very heart of hell itself if she saw the need. In her own apparent arrogant way, she thinks the world revolves around her; and damned that world if it doesn’t! Of course, in his opinion, that was exactly the way the world should work.



A little voice in the back of his mind reminded him, that going with this thought, he was probably - or better yet, definitely - not part of this universe.

Aware that he was deceiving himself here, it suddenly felt safer to repress that thought and leave it to ponder about for some other time. Now she was safe in her house, safe in her sanctuary, and he had a trip to make.

Disclaimer: The Pretender nor any of it’s characters is not mine.



AN: I am again apologizing for any bad grammar/spelling! My native language is German not English! The most difficult thing for me is the time in which to write. I am sure I have quite some incontinuities along the line. Past tense, past perfect you know, it’s hard for me to tell when to use what! I hope it does not make reading unbearable for all you English-speaking people out there!

To all Canadians: no offense intended! I’ve been there and I loved it! (you read it, you’ll know what I mean)







Souls of the Departed 3

‘All or Nothing at All’





Jarod saw the “Welcome to Delaware” sign in his review mirror becoming smaller and finally disappearing. It was almost 11 o’clock and he figured, for once, he could call her a little earlier.



“What” Parker yelled in her usual manner.



“So, how was Montreal?”



“Too French!”



“You do speak French, Miss Parker!”



“So?, I do a lot of things I don’t enjoy, Jarod. Just like I hate to be late for the party or running on empty.”



Jarod looked a bit puzzled at his phone, not sure what he actually had missed. A party? Was she invited someplace? Was he responsible for her missing a social setting that could actually be nice and do her some good?



Miss Parker realized the pause, actually she had expected it. Her answer was just that kind of reply that he would not get. He would ponder about it for minutes, no, hours if given the time. Something she had no intent to give.



“Anything specific up there in Mule-Country I missed?”



“It is a beautiful city with much to offer, Miss Parker.”



“Yeah, sure. Just turn on the 10 O’clock news, and it’s a hoot: `Mule loose, more snow, mule caught, good night´ Thank you but no thank you! So, if there isn’t any point in this Jarod….”



“Miss Parker,…”



He wanted to know if she was all right, why she had been standing out there in the cold. What had been on her mind?

Asking her was out of the question, a minute ago he’d been sure that by simply talking to her on the phone, he would figure it out. He usually did. Her tone, her slight hints usually told him what was going on. But not tonight. All he felt was her wariness; she was tired, and a little pissed. At him, as usual, but in a different way. It was not about him getting away, he knew that. Was it…? Could it…?



“If you have anything else to say to stomp on my frayed nerves Monkey-Boy, so spill it and get it over with, or hell, just take a hike, will ya! I just came back from out of nowhere. I am having a meeting with my thumbless psychopathic brother in the morning, and quite frankly, I’m not in the mood to chat about the great wide open of the north.”

*klick*





******************************



Hanging up on HIM felt really good for a change, but she was still pissed.



The truth was, that Montreal in fact WAS nice. She liked the continental feeling there. Liked the French bakeries and the coffee; so much different than what you get in those little places here in Blue Cove, places which sell you a black-water-something most of the times, added with some artificial flavor to conceal any other off-taste.



Or the ever-present Starbucks, the place that sells coffee in a paper-cup. Not that she did not enjoy a coffee-to-go once in a while, but it had nothing to do with real `coffee-feeling´, the one she enjoyed back then in school in Europe.



How could he even think, that she’d enjoy the trip? On a vacation she would, yes, but as usual, she was there for the hunt. How could she enjoy anything, while on the hunt?



For a time, she actually HAD enjoyed it. The hunt had been challenging.

The first year or two, she had liked the adrenaline-rush she had every time she got close. The match had not been even, he was the genius after all. But the contest, that’s what it had been to her, had been a thrilling challenge.



But not anymore. When did it change? She didn’t know exactly when and why it stopped. And she didn’t want to think about it, not now, anyway.





******************************



He didn’t understand.



Just one moment was all he wanted, all he needed. One moment at her expense, and he was sure, all his misery would’ve been well spent.



Back then in that damn limousine, he had told her in not so subtle ways what he felt. Now he needed something in return. If she could show just a little something… But that was apparently not going to happen.



He glanced at his cell phone again.



She hung up on me! Just like that. That’s my job! What the hell is going on with her?



A meeting with Lyle? He was with her in Montreal, so it wasn’t about to give him a report. What did that bastard want from her?



He had to check the Centre mainframe, better yet, contact Angelo to find out what this was about. Damn, he hated it when he didn’t know what was happening!



Only her. She was the only one that could get to him this way. Secrets and lies, yes the Centre had patented rights on secrets and lies. They had all the answers he so desperately wanted and they went to any length to hide it from him. But why her now too? What was she hiding, and hiding something she did.



Jarod decided not to drive any further. He took the next exit, and intended to get in a motel for the night. Something was up, maybe he needed to stay close.





****************************



The Center the next morning



“So, sis, what do you want?” Lyle approached her from behind. They were on the little walkway just above the sandy shore, about five hundred yards down from the main building.



She’d wanted something from him and he was rather curious. Usually his annoying sister would just rush into his office and announce her demand. Not that he cared much about those demands, but this was different, SHE was different.



On their flight back from Montreal she’d come to him, sat beside him and had kept silent for a moment. Parker never sat beside him on their journeys, so he’d shot her a questioning look.

All she’d said after watching him intensely for a minute, as if trying to read him was, that she needed to talk to him the next day. Alone, not in the office.

That was new.



Getting impatient at her continuing silence he turned to her. “Well?”

Still not saying anything, Parker kept her eyes on the water. If she needed one more proof of the horrible fact that Lyle indeed was her brother, it was that he ran out of patience just as quickly as she did.



“Parker, if this is about your eternal quest about our family history, I’ll just….”



“This is not about the past of our family Lyle, this is about the future. I am offering you a deal.”



“Deal?”



“I know what you want Lyle, and I’m going to offer you a big chunk of it.”



“You really think you know me?”



“As I’ve told you before, I know a little about a lot. You want power, control of this freak house. Living up to the legacy.” She said it very evenly, never raising her voice, her tone not colored with either the hate or disgust she actually felt.



“I’ll relieve you of the challenge Raines threw us into. The old oxygen sniffing piece of shit said ‘whoever of us wins the game, will get it all’. You can have it, I quit.”



Lyle looked at her incredulousely. What is this about? What game is SHE playing now?

As if reading his mind, Parker turned for the first time to face him right on.



“No game. Not anymore. I am finished with this. All I ever wanted here was Da…” She braced herself before actually telling him more than she was ready to. With more composure, she added: “There is nothing for me to gain here anymore, so I quit.”



“You said ‘deal’, so what do you get?”



“My freedom. I’m outa here. Tomorrow I leave, and what I need from you is, that you make sure I’ll do it still breathing.”



“Why telling me, why not just get out and get lost?”



“I know how this place works, there is nothing they would not do in order to get me back in line.”



Lyle knew instantly that with ‘they’, she also meant him. And he also knew in what direction her thoughts were going. In all honesty, he sure knew that she was right.



“Though gone, there are still people here I want to be safe. You keep them in your team, go for the hunt, do whatever it is you do. But the deal is: I’ll go and let you have it, and I also will keep the secrets about your little recreational ventures. In return you make sure Syd, Broots and even Angelo stay safe, stay alive.”



“You know” Lyle began, ignoring her remark about his free time activities, it didn’t matter anyway, “that’s two for one”



“What?”



“A deal is usually quid pro quo, Parker. I’ll get to take over the sole Parker inheritance – you get to leave. That’s one. But you want me also to watch out for the psycho-babbling candidate for geriatrics, the experimental idiot and this annoying computer geek. That’s two.”



“As I said, I could take the things I know about you to the authorities. I am sure there are quite a number of unresolved homicides they’d like to close.”



“Ah, come on. You and I both know, that this is as empty a threat as anything. One or two phone calls, one or two setups and I’d be clear – not that you HAVE actually anything tangible anyway.”



Knowing that he had a point there, she changed strategy.



“Sydney will still be helpful in the search for Jarod, and so is Angelo. You know that. And Broots is a lot more than just a geek.”



“He is not the only one who aces in technology, there might be better ones, people with more guts.”



This gave Parker the shivers. She knew Broots was the most vulnerable one. While the same goes not for Syd or Angelo, when it came to the hunt, Broots was expendable. She had to do something about it. But she never had the intention of saying what actually came out of her mouth.



“He has a daughter to take care of, a girl who needs her father.” The moment this was out, Parker became aware that now she had made a huge mistake. Bringing Debbie into the bargain, was the biggest mistake!



“Yeah, yeah, so I heard. Don’t you see Parker, this is actually one more reason for me to dump Broots? A man who’ll always spend more thoughts on his daughter than on the job! I really…”



Out of nowhere she grabbed him by his tie and pulled him closer, eyes blazing. Her look was absolutely lethal.

For just one second, a very familiar self-loathing expression appeared on his face. Where he would suck in air through closely pressed teeth, breathing out a silent ‘fuck’.



Parker wondered for a second how this trait, that was so ultimately her father, had apparently rubbed off. She had seen this expression a million times on Mr. Parker’s face. It had appeared every time he had realized he made a stupid comment. After he had said something that had gotten to her; when he actually had wanted to say something else. Seeing this, made her even angrier.



There was no doubt in her determination. With an impossible low voice, a voice that suggested death in its wake, she uttered with cold fury: ”You leave Debbie out of this or I swear …”



Lyle saw the danger in her eyes, and he knew that look very well. She was a crazy bitch after all. Nevertheless, he was enjoying it immensely, he really had a beautiful sister. With a hint - just a hint - of respect for his formidable opponent, Lyle smirked.



He took her hands and slowly entangled them from around his tie. Still holding both hands at her wrists, he pushed her back a little and interrupted what was sure to be a long tirade.



“Don’t get worked up, OK? Contrary to popular believe, I do NOT harm little girls. Just like I won’t fall for the Parker family habit of robbing a child its single parent. So relax.”



To her absolute surprise, Parker could see the sincerity in her brother’s last words. She had never anticipated herself to think that he might have a small little piece of humanity left in this cold heart of his.



Letting her arms go, Lyle was now fully into this little deal-game of theirs. He just had the right idea how to find out how much she really wanted this.



“Nevertheless sis, quid pro quo. Two for one, remember?”



“What is it, you want?”



Without further ado, he simply said “The house.”



Her plan of staying cool, quiet and unemotional had been already blown to bits.

So she yelled out a simple “What!?”



The house? Hers? Her mother’s house?

Her sanctuary? No fucking way!



“I’d prefer the house to my apartment; more space. The location, the history, all that. Yeah I want the house.”



Again a cold shiver ran down her spine. The thought of how he could use the space was more than unsettling. No, she could not let him taint the memory of her mother with his cruel idea of ‘recreation’. Never!



Out of nowhere an image of a very dead Broots appeared in front of her eyes. A devastated Debbie stood at the grave of her father. God, she could not let this happen!





“Ok”, she simply said, “You can have it. But by God Lyle, don’t you dare to bring any of your little horrors into this house!”



“I simply want to live there, sis, only that.”



After a moment of silence, an agreement seemed to be reached. She could hardly believe it, but it was done. She could not put it in any coherent thought, but for some reason she just knew that Lyle would keep his part of the deal.



“So tell me, what’s your plan?”



“All you need to know is that tomorrow you, Broots and Syd will go to Oregon on a lead. Coming back, I’ll be gone. No doubt, Raines will order you to look for me. Do it, or not, you will not find me, I’ll make sure of that. I’ll be gone, no breadcrumbs, no traces. I’ve no intention of playing another version of the labrat-game.”



“And your questions?”



“Answers or a life. It was time to choose. I did.”

Disclaimer: The Pretender nor any of it’s characters is not mine. And I was inspired by a song by The Boss

AN: Thanks to an unnamed angel out there, my English improved big way!





Souls of the Departed Part



‘The Long Goodbye’







“Syd, I don’t like this.”



Broots felt a sense of doom hanging over their heads. They were on their flight back from Oregon. The lead was cold as always. That was nothing new or special. But what was different about this trip was that Miss Parker had not joined them.



Only once before had she willingly left the hunt solely in her brother’s hands. What was going on with her? He knew that she had a hard time coping with everything after Mister Parker’s ‘exit’. But whatever she was up to now, couldn’t be good. And he was worried.



“I know Broots, I know. I am worried myself. All Lyle had said was that she chose not to come along. I tried to call her about twenty times, but all I got was her voice-mail.”



“Yeah, I called her too. About…hmm…I guess twenty is a conservative estimation. Jeez, she’s gonna be pissed at all those calls!”



Sydney couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Miss Parker’s tirade at their consistent calls: it was none of their business; she could take care of herself, being a big girl and all. Her outward demeanour was always about trying not to show any emotion except anger at everyone around her. Towards Broots and himself she had let her guard down a little, but she still lashed out at them when in a bad mood.



“It isn’t going to be pretty, you know. Hell, even I would be quite angry at forty phone calls when I intentionally turned it off. And she is under so much stress. You know Syd, I once had this really creepy thought about how Miss P. on a roll could even frighten Freddy and Chucky, turning them into cuddly toys.”



Syd raised an eyebrow at his colleague, clearly not knowing what it was that the technician even meant.



“Syd, you’ve seen these horror movies, haven’t you? Freddy Krueger, Nightmare on Elm Street and Chucky ….”



“I think I know what you mean, thank you Broots. But I am quite sure that Miss Parker would not be flattered with this idea of yours.”



“Ah, no I guess not.” Suddenly very frightened at the prospect of her finding out, Broots added in a plea-like voice, “You’re not going to tell her are you Syd?”



Lyle suddenly stood in the compartment door of the passenger area with an evil grin on his face.



“Relax Mr. Broots. I am sure our good doctor here would do anything to not let my dear sister know that you compared her to some ugly characters that are on a killing spree. But I am surprised…you of all people Mr. Broots!”



With that Lyle turned around and left for the second compartment again. He needed to make a few private phone calls. He had preparations to make.



“What is that supposed to mean, Syd? What is he saying? I only…”



“Broots, just forget it. You know how Lyle likes to get the better of all people. I am sure he was simply taunting you. I’m just wondering if he knows anything about Miss Parker.”



“I think that aside from Raines, Lyle is the last person she would tell anything at all, don’t you?”



“Under normal circumstances I’d say you’re right, but somehow I have the feeling he knows something. She did approach him the other day in the plane. I wonder what that was about.”



With that, both fell into pondering silence. Miss Parker’s behaviour in recent days was completely uncharacteristic. The Doctor suspected that the tragedy of her family had finally gotten to her, and he was worried.



The technician’s thoughts were going down a different lane. He remembered how and why Miss Parker had stayed back the last time. She had decided to leave the Centre and to move to Oregon with her then lover Thomas. He wondered if it could again be about a man. This made him feel quite uneasy. He still had a major crush on his boss. She had turned him down, and he could live with that, but the thought of her and another man…



Mentally slapping himself for his jealousy, he remembered how happy she had been with Thomas. So happy in fact, that she seemed even more beautiful than before. It was a time when she actually smiled often without apparent reason. And that smile was a memory he treasured.



Her eyes back then had even glowed. Her whole expression made his heart melt at the mere thought of it. Another man couldn’t be that bad if he succeeded in getting Miss Parker to smile that way again -- the sweetest smile on earth; the smile that launched wholesome fantasies in his infatuated heart. Another man could be a good thing.





*********************





It was already past six o’clock when they landed, so they parted at the airport and everyone drove to their respective homes.



Sydney briefly thought about taking a detour to check up on Miss Parker but dropped that idea. She would tell him in her time. Sooner than later he hoped, but there was nothing he could do about it. This remarkable woman had always done things her way, and mostly alone. At a young age she had been forced by circumstances to manage her difficulties alone. It had become a habit that she clearly could not break.



Jarod sometimes found the means to help her cope with things. Miss Parker frequently claimed that she never wanted any help from her childhood friend but nevertheless, accepted it reluctantly at the most difficult of times.



Maybe Jarod had some idea what this was about. The psychiatrist hoped he would hear from his former protégée soon.



**********************



Sydney sat at his breakfast table glancing into his coffee cup, not really seeing anything. He didn’t sleep well -- too much was on his mind, particularly Lyle’s smug behaviour throughout the previous day. The doctor expected him to be good-natured about Miss Parker not coming along. Her brother wanted to win this game after all. But somehow he also expected Lyle to make side remarks, some cruel comments at her expense. He didn’t. Curious.



His thoughts were interrupted by his cell phone ringing. Finally, he thought, Miss Parker would be on the other end and yell at him to get his ‘carcass’ moving.



“This is Sydney.”



“Sydney, long time no see.”



“Jarod, it’s good to hear from you. Though at an unexpected hour I must say.”



“There are different time zones on our planet, Sydney. But that’s another story. I just wanted to say hello and then I wanted to ask you something. Something about a friend.”



Sydney immediately knew who that friend was. So he simply said “Yes?”



“Sydney, do you know what Miss Parker was up to after Montreal? I…I couldn’t help but notice that something was different, so I’m wondering if there is anything going on that I should know “



“Well, all I know is that we followed your lead to Oregon yesterday, but Miss Parker chose to stay back. What that means? Your guess would be as good as mine.”



“Oregon? Sydney I didn’t send you any leads after Montreal. Miss Parker stayed back? What the hell is going on? You know, she was not at home tonight! Where is she?”



“Jarod, I don’t usually pry into her private life. I don’t know were she was tonight. Maybe she met someone.” He said that rather calmly, but it was very upsetting.



Jarod didn’t take Sydney’s last comment very well, though he had to confess, for a short moment he had come to a similar conclusion. But, thinking through it, he had abandoned that idea. No it was not a man. He voiced that much to his former mentor.



“No Syd. From what I know, Miss Parker is the kind of woman who would take a man to her home, not go with him some place.”



“I don’t know Jarod. After what happened with Thomas…well, in any case, I don’t feel particularly comfortable talking about her private endeavours like that.”



“Me neither Syd, me neither.”



He said that with all honesty, not realizing that what he really hated was the thought of her in the arms of another man -- a man he didn’t know about -- than the actual fact of talking with Sydney about it.



“You go to the Centre, try to find her from your side. I’ll do the same from mine. I need to know. If this has got something to do with her search for her mother, it concerns me too.”



This was another lie he was unaware of. The search for their mothers’ connection was far from his mind at that very moment. But it sounded like a reasonable excuse for Sydney as much as for himself.



*****************



Her usual time to come in was eight thirty.



It was just after 9 o’clock and Sydney’s first destination was her office. Right in front of her door, the doctor ran into Broots.



“Good morning Broots. Is she in?”



“Morning. I don’t know. I just came in too. But Cindy at reception couldn’t tell me if she’d already arrived.”



Sydney knocked lightly and opened the door only to find a very empty room -- no sign of the regular occupant. Nothing was on her desk and nothing was on the glass table in the back of the room. Sydney could not tell if she had even been there the day before.



Only one thing to do. The psychiatrist took a seat, picked up the phone and called her cell. Again, only voice-mail. He dialled again, this time trying her home number. He could hardly believe what happened then. Instead of her angry ‘what’ or her demand to leave a message, he heard the voice of her brother. “Lyle here.”



Sydney almost dropped the phone. “Lyle?”



“Sydney, what can I do for you? I’ll be in the office in an hour or two. Have to do some things first.”



“Lyle, what are you doing on Miss Parker’s phone? What are you doing at her home?” The most horrible scenarios came to his mind. At this very moment Sydney knew he would be ready and willing to kill Lyle if he had done anything to her.



“I am just taking stock of what is mine, Syd. I wanted to tell you later, but I guess you won’t be willing to wait.”



“You are absolutely right, Lyle.”



“Apparently my sister decided to come up with a Houdini act. Must have lost all her marbles, I guess. Maybe had a breakdown or whatever it is women are having when feeling a little under pressure…not able to handle the stress.”



“Where is she?” Sydney’s Belgian accent came through very thickly now. That only happened when he was feeling uncertain or angry.



“I’m telling you: I don’t know. All I know is, that I came home last night and found a letter pinned to my fridge. All she wrote was that she’s gone, she’s had enough. And in, what I guess was a very weak moment for her, she decided to leave me her house. Then again, it was OUR mother’s house.”



Sydney had put the conversation on speakers so Broots could listen in. The technician, unable to stand any longer simply went down. Luckily for him, he was standing in front of her couch. Otherwise, his behind would have made painful contact with the floor.



This was not happening, this wasn’t real. He’d wake up in a second and then he’d be able to breathe again.



“I’ll tell you the rest later Sydney. Raines doesn’t know yet and I want you and Broots to be with me when I tell him. I am sure he’ll have a few questions for you. And so do I.”



“We don’t know anything. This is crazy. She hasn’t spoken to us in days Lyle. It must be one big misunderstanding. I am sure of that.”



“At first I had suspected something like a mean prank. We both know how much she LIKES to harass me. But trust me Sydney, I checked the house very thoroughly, and she would never leave it like that just to get to me.”



“What do you mean ‘like that’?”



“I said I’d tell you later. Suffice it to say that she took all the pictures and most of her clothes. But everything else, all her things, all her private stuff is still here. She would never want me to see them if she hadn’t really decided to leave for good.”



With that Lyle hung up and Sydney could only agree with his last comment. He was even slightly surprised at Lyle’s ability to read her.



The thing that still eluded him though was that, if everything Lyle said was real, and Miss Parker had finally left the Centre, why, why in God’s name would she leave a message? And at Lyle’s place too. And why would she leave him, of all people, the house she loved so much? This just did not add up.



Why didn’t she come to him? At least leave the message for HIM to find? He sure was a lot closer to her than her brother ever could be. Something was wrong. Very wrong. The most logical explanation was that either Raines or Lyle or both of them, were behind all this. And he’d be damned if he let them get away with it.



He glanced over at Broots, who still had this incredulous look on his face; a look that he was sure was mirrored in his own face, when his cell phone rang. “Sydney here”



“What did you find out? Where was she?”



“Jarod.” Sydney exhaled slowly, leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. How was he going to say this? “I…We…we don’t know where she is, Jarod. She disappeared and …”



“Disappeared? What? And? Sydney tell me!”



“Lyle just told us that she wrote a note to him, telling him she would leave the Centre for good. He also claims that she left the house for him to live in.”



“No, no, Sydney, no! Lyle is behind this! I am sure this is all some crazy plan to get rid of her! I will find out, and then -- then there will be no mercy, no sparing his life. I promise Sydney, I’ll find her.”



******************



Miss Parker was gone and the Pretender still could not tell what had happened. It almost drove him insane. He could not find a single clue, no hint that Lyle had been involved in any of this.



Lyle had given the note to Sydney, and the doctor scanned and mailed it to Jarod. It WAS her handwriting, which did not mean she wrote it willingly. But the facts were adding up.



There was the fact that Lyle had been in Oregon that day, the fact that she had talked to him shortly before, and the fact that her secret bank account -- the account Jarod was very sure no one else knew about -- was cleared.



And the final truth came about when, four days later, Sydney received a letter mailed to his home. It was a single page, again with her handwriting.



“Syd, I am sorry I left like that. But I thought you’d approve of my choice. I’ll be fine, trust me. Tell Broots and Angelo I said ‘hi’, and maybe you can look after my baby brother once in a while. He could use someone to take care of him. For all it’s worth, you did your best with Jarod, and monkey-boy turned out quite alright. Just don’t tell him I said so! Maybe he was the lucky one after all. Like I told you before, he had YOU. Good luck and goodbye.”



That she had signed it with her first name was the actual hint that she had written the note voluntarily. A picture was attached to the sheet of paper with a clip. It was the image of Miss Parker’s mother, where she held her baby daughter in her arms. It was her favourite.



On the same day Broots found a small package on his front porch. It contained her square ring -- the ring she never took off. The small note attached only said “For Debbie to remember a friend.” Nothing else.



For all his traits, Broots was not a man to cry easily, but he shed silent tears that evening. He had lost his best friend without the chance of ever telling her so. All that was left for him now was to send a prayer to a God he had never really believed in; a prayer that she was somewhere out there, safe and finally happy.



*****************



It was late at night in Virginia. Jarod stayed at a cheap hotel in Alexandria. This was as far as he got. He sat in the dark and felt more than miserable. He had accepted her disappearance, but felt so empty at the moment.



It felt almost schizophrenic. Some part of him was happy for her. She had left. She now could live the life she deserved. He was pretty sure the Centre would not find her -- she was so much better than them. He wasn’t even sure if he could find her.



Another part of him felt like his heart had been ripped out. She had left without saying goodbye. Broots and Sydney both got their goodbyes but he didn’t. He was jealous. He wanted something to remember her by too. Something more than just the memories.



Memories were not enough. Out of nowhere he remembered a movie that he once saw. “We always have Paris,” the woman had said. Against all odds he had to smile. What would she have said? “We always have the Centre?” Probably not.



He now knew how the man -- Rick was his name -- felt when left behind on the tarmac. Rick had opted for a drink at that moment. Maybe he should get himself a bottle of something mind-numbing too.



And then he remembered the song on the car radio, while driving over the bridge from Washington into Alexandria. And he remembered every word of it, and how the tears he had fought for so long finally ran down his face.



Well I came by your house the other day

Your mother said you went away

She said there was nothing that I could have done

There was nothing nobody could say

Me and you we’ve known each other ever since we were sixteen

I wished I would have known

I wished I could have called you

Just to say goodbye Bobby Jean.



When they were children at the Centre, they were friends. And they shared the pain that they both hid from the outside world. Jarod knew that there wasn’t anybody who could ever understand him the way she did.



He had the unreasonable hope that wherever she was, she’d hear that song too, and it would strike her as much as it had struck him. That somehow she would understand and that she would take the words of the singer for his.



Maybe you’ll be out there on that road somewhere

In some bus or train travelling along

In some motel room there’ll be a radio playing

And you’ll hear me sing this song

Well if you do you’ll know I’m thinking of you

And all the miles in between

And I’m just calling one last time

Not to change your mind

But just to say I miss you baby

Good luck goodbye

Bobby Jean



Again wiping off the tears, he told himself to get a grip. With her gone, the danger of getting caught was almost zero. Lyle was nothing compared to her.



He still had a family to look for. He could look for her too, though for the moment he thought better of it. No. The next day he would contact his father and reunite with him and his brother. The brother was actually his clone, but in order to regain some resemblance of ‘normalcy’ the boy was regarded as his younger brother named Joshua.



It had been a long time; too long since he had seen them. He could always decide to look for her later. Now he needed some family.

I truly hope this is worth your time. As with other parts, I have been ‘borrowing’ again. In this installment, it’s mostly from a song from Faith Hill called ‘Stronger’. What can I say, it just fit Miss Parker’s mood. She told me she wanted it, and she always gets what she wants!



My beta-reader, who remains hidden, had worked overtime, big thanks!.

Oh, and big thanks to another nice angel for the mental road-map!



Souls of the Departed



Miss Parker had no eyes for the area she passed. It was beautiful farm country: endless fields along the road and nice farmhouses every once in a while.

She crossed the bridge and cursed once more her fate of having a sports-car and always ending up in huge traffic jams. Not that she was in a huge hurry. She just loved to drive her Boxter to its limits, which was always beyond any speed-limit laws.

Her first instinct was to go as far away as possible. Take a plane to California, to Mexico. Or better: to Brazil or somewhere in Europe. Well, Australia was tempting.

That was why she was heading towards the Airport, only to change her mind on a whim. She suddenly despised the idea of sitting in a plane beside some smug, overconfident businessman. who who’d think he could get lucky with her. Even if this was not the case, she still craved for some time alone - not lonely, alone. She’d been lonely for quite some time. Alone…well, she looked forward to a moment alone.

She decided to go by car first. But she had to leave her own vehicle behind. That one was clear. So she paid cash in advance for 1000 miles -- and then some -- at the car rental at Baltimore International Airport.

With every intention to drive just ahead -- north, south, and better yet, west -- she put in an old favourite CD of hers with some great songs that felt as if they were written for long rides in a car - though certainly no "trucker-songs" - and stepped on the accelerator.

But just after the third song was fading into oblivion and the fourth was starting with a nice upbeat, she realized she was neither going south nor north, and certainly not west. The road sign, illuminated by her own car-lights, told her that she was about two hours away from the capital of greed, politics, secrets and rumours: the capital of the nation.

In all truth she knew that the capital of greed, politics, secrets and rumours was actually a building on the shores of the tiny, often forgotten, state of Delaware. But what the heck?

While being somehow surprised at her own unconscious move, she suddenly realized: it was not physical distance she needed. That meant nothing. It did not matter if she put five or six states or an ocean or a galaxy between her and Delaware. It was the mental distance she needed, and this was much more difficult to reach. There was a huge difference between falling off the radar and cutting all the emotional ties.

She had said her goodbyes to Sydney and Broots. She knew she momentarily fell out of character with that. But she felt she had to. She owed it to them.

After almost three hours of driving - traffic WAS a bitch - Parker made her way from the outer beltway into central Washington.

She slowly made it through the crowded streets, and, at each traffic light watched the people as they went about their daily routines. She was enthralled by the beauty of the buildings.

But her destination was someplace else. Steering her car into the circle, she took the fourth exit up northwest. Most streets were named after the equivalent of either a number or an alphabetic character. But somehow, despite all her intelligence, she still had problems grasping the system in this town. Here, the streets were numbered according to what was supposed to be the center and leading like sunrays in all directions.

Thank God this area had more ‘real’ street names and she knew where she was heading. Otherwise she would be driving in circles and, sure as hell, end up right in front of the building that was known to house the president and in the middle of what was now a security precaution!

That meant they would scan her car, check her ID and her person until she’d go stir crazy and pick a fight that would definitely get her into custody.



Turning from 18th on to Ontario Road she realized she had almost arrived, remembering her time here way back when she was still in college. She had gone down here from Princeton with two friends to party and enjoy the city. They had quickly realized it was sheer luck that brought them there. Good food, good music, lots of fun, lots of drinks and a nice cheap place to stay.

Nothing fancy, nothing like the places she was accustomed to staying at. But, she decided, it had sufficed then, so it will certainly suffice now.

Parker had to drive around two blocks, for the residential area was all one-way. Apprehension crept up inside her at the probability of getting a parking space at this late hour. She started to curse at all those stupid people who apparently did not know how to park a car. Small Toyota hatch-backs that could fit into her purse used up valuable parking space for two Buick-sized vehicles.

Finally she got lucky. Taking out all her possessions, she had to walk five minutes back to the place she had planned to stay at. She had made a phone call from a gas station only twenty minutes before and had made the reservations, using a false name, of course.

Not really expecting to get anything, lady luck struck again, and provided her with a place to stay for five weeks. This place offered rooms mostly for weeks at a time, and as the owner told her on the phone, their guests apparently were business or government people who had to stay in town for a while. She had not expected to get a room at such short notice, but it seemed that October was not a busy time.



Parker took the keys to her room that went under the name of Celia Reed. Not very original she knew, but that was the idea. Mr. Ledeen, the owner, showed her around. There were two houses; each had seven guest rooms. After taking over the place a year ago, he had invested and renovated both buildings. The building she was in still had the kitchen from back then and guests had the opportunity to use the appliances. Both houses had a large living room. They looked nice, warm and welcoming. She was sure the guests that lived there for any amount of time were enjoying themselves, watching Television and socializing.

Parker herself had no plans to do just that, but still, the idea seemed nice. The advantage this place had to hotels was its normalcy. Nobody would have ever thought to look for her in the residential part of town that was called Adams Morgan -- famous for all its Jazz music and international cuisine.



**************

Celia Reed spent most of the time in her room, the first days even skipping breakfast. Around noon she went out, strolled around for an hour or two -- staying in the general area -- and then went back to her place. She needed the time for herself. She had a lot to think about. What would she do? Where to go from here? Would they be looking for her? Would Lyle send teams after her?

And the eternal question, that always seem to linger in the back of her mind. What would HE think, now that he must have realized she was gone? Perish the thought she reminded herself angrily. This was not about HIM. This was for her.

On the third day she realized she had walked as far as Dupont Circle. There was a nice bookstore, ‘Kramerbooks’, where she acquired half a dozen books. One she even read then and there. They had a coffee corner there, and she enjoyed herself immensely.

The weather was fantastic for this time of the year: sunny and warm. The days were clear and bright. She loved it. She had light meals during lunchtime and went to dinner every night at a different place. Mexican, Korean, Italian, Japanese, Cuban, Jamaican -- all of the world’s best food on one street.



A few times she went out. There were so many nice jazz bars with live music. She loved that: having a few drinks, enjoying a light buzz and brushing off the men who were hitting on her.

Once or twice she was tempted though.

She missed company, male company. It had been too long since she had last been with a man. She missed the sex and she missed intimacy.

She was well aware of the difference. She had had a lot of sex in her life, but intimacy she had experienced only once. It was the kind of emotional connection that arose when two people really ‘feel’ rather than just ‘get on with it’. It was when the feelings of the other are as important as your own; when your first thought is always to make sure the other is enjoying every single moment, and your own satisfaction only second to that.

Most of her life she was satisfied with what she got. She got what she wanted when she took a man into her bed.

After Tommy all that had changed. Parker was truly and utterly afraid that what she had with Tommy was lost to her forever. Nobody was like him. She had loved him, opened up to him and he had shown her what it was truly like to be intimate, to make love rather than just have sex.



Parker sat in a sofa in her room. She held her favourite picture of her mother in her left hand. In her right she held a Scotch that she had bought earlier in a liquor store.

If she had any regret, any regret at all at her choice, then it was that she did not finish her mother’s plan. She had never found out about the real plan. It was probably her mother’s eternal quest of rescuing all the children, maybe even a plan to destroy the Centre once and for all. She did not know.

She felt miserable at the thought that she had left her little brother in their evil hands. Why hadn’t she thought of that when talking to Lyle? God, what would happen to that little innocent life?



She hoped her other brother, Ethan -- wherever he was -- was free and able to live at least half a happy life. If anyone could find him, Jarod could. Jarod would find him eventually.

Jarod. The other unresolved thing she had a lot of trouble coping with.

God, is there any possibility that thoughts about him would not haunt her?. An image of his face would creep up in her mind ever so slightly, at least five times a day. The picture would be either his face of eternal pain and sorrow in the limousine on the tarmac in Glasgow or the face he made just before he leaned in to kiss her in front of the fire on the island.

But there was no denying the facts. All those years, she just wanted to be free. But there was no freedom where she was. No freedom with him. There was no wishing on the stars, no reason to believe. After all these years she finally understood.

She needed to cut all the ties, including the ties to him, whatever they were. This was what they both needed. Space for both of them, some silence at last. Even if it would break her, it would better, for both of them. At the end they would be stronger.

It was such a devastating thought that she had lost him too now, but she knew she had done the right thing.

It hurt like hell.

She had not said goodbye to him, and that had been the hardest part. All her life, all the people she cared for, had gone without a chance of saying goodbye. And now she had done the same thing.

But all this was out of her hands now. She had made her choice, for good or for bad. Now it was her time to live her life, whatever that meant.

Usual disclaimer, don’t own them, just having fun.

In this part I’ve ‘borrowed’ one or two phrases owned by a man named Jim Wright.

I’d love to say they are ‘courtesy of’ but I can’t. He somehow got lost in the www. And all traces are lost. Otherwise I would have asked him!

And I am quoting a passage written almost two hundred years ago by American writer John Bradbury.

Last but not least, true to my devotion to a certain singer/songwriter from the Garden State, I chose to give the chapters fitting sub-titles now. All of them - even the previous - are named after one of his songs.

Oh, and I gotta say, that I have the best and fastest beta-angel out there - THANKS!



Souls of the Departed - Part 6

"Blood Brothers"



They were now living in a house in a small town in New York State: only thirty minutes north of NYC, right on the Hudson River. It was simply gorgeous. The town had more of a village character. The houses were all surrounded by trees, each house with a lawn -- some bigger some smaller, but still, the children living there all had their playgrounds just by walking out the door.

Jarod had arrived two days ago and concluded that this time of the year must be the most beautiful. The leaves of all sorts of trees -- maple, oak or ash -- took on all shades in the colour spectrum.

Indian Summer it was called; a natural ‘phenomenon’, that had been described as the time when "The air is perfectly quiescent and all is stillness, as if Nature, after her exertions during the Summer, were now at rest."

He had read that particular description somewhere a little while ago, and it fit perfectly. The weather was great. There was such a clear blue sky. The conditions were warm and hazy, comfortable enough to stay out with only a sweater on.



The Pretender sat on the front porch of their house. Joshua and the Major had just repainted it. His father had told him that it had been in pretty bad shape when they were moving in a few months earlier. But, the experience had helped them put a hand on the various deficiencies, and had given them something to work on together.

The first year after Joshua was rescued and living with the Major was hard on both of them. The boy had been through a lot and, no matter what had happened to him at the Centre, was now right in the middle of puberty. Clone or not, adolescent behavior IS demanding.

Jarod smiled inwardly, remembering some stories his father had told him. The boy seemed restless and had all the time on his hands to think up some really insane stuff with that superior brain of his. And he also wanted to go to school, meet other kids of his age. The Major wouldn’t allow it though. Not yet. Not until they could really be safe and settle down for good. Charles still wanted to look for his wife and daughter, and staying here was meant only as a brief interlude in order to get the boy more settled mentally.

They lived there under false identities and it seemed pretty safe. But a second car was always ready to go in the garage. They used a different one to get around in everyday life. The windows and doors were equipped with a high-tech security system and the Major checked the Centre mainframe everyday for signs of danger.



Jarod looked up at the sky, letting sunrays warm his face. It really was a clear day, and he was thinking that if he had been on the phone with someone right now -- someone a thousand miles away -- and he had to give the perfect description of the colour of the sky, he needed only two words: her eyes. With a heavy sigh from the pit of his stomach, he rose and leaned on the porch railing. There we go again. His brilliant mind was betraying him. He was trying to get her out of his mind for just a day or two, but his brain apparently had another idea.



Just then Joshua drove up the short driveway on his bike. He had been to a baseball game with kids he’d met on the nearby field. The other boys had quickly realized what a good player the new kid in town was and invited him to play.

"Hey Jarod, what’s up"

"Joshua, how was the game?"

"We won of course. I hit two home-runs. Cool, eh?"

"Yeah, cool."

The boy hopped off his bike, took all three steps in one leap, and made a beeline for the kitchen, only to return to the porch after a few seconds with a bottle of ice tea in one hand and a box of ice cream and a spoon in the other.

Joshua sat down and held the ice cream towards Jarod who still stood on the railing but had turned around to face his brother.

"Here. By the look on your face, I thought you could use something to cheer you up!"

he said between two large gulps of the ice tea.

"You know, the first time I saw ‘ice tea’ in the supermarket I wondered if they had put vanilla, chocolate or pistachio ice in it. I was disappointed at first that they didn’t, but it still is a very good thirst-quencher! Aren’t you going to have some?" he asked Jarod, pointing towards the ice-cream in front of him.

Finally Jarod pushed himself away from the railing and took a seat beside Joshua. Then he accepted the spoon and ate some.

"So what’s going on? Why the wrinkled face, Jarod? Something at the Centre? Do you have to leave soon?"

"There is always something at the Centre," he said out of sheer habit. He recognized a slightly shocked look on his brother’s face so he quickly added, "But right now there is nothing specific to be worried about. They are actually on a cold lead in California right now so even the hunting team is no problem. And I am not thinking about leaving very soon. Somehow going on a pretend at the moment doesn’t seem to be the best idea. I just...I don’t know. I need some time to think. I was hoping to come up with a new strategy, a different approach to look for mom and Emily. But I feel so distracted…I don’t know."



He whispered the last three words and was clearly in distress. Joshua knew how hard that must be for Jarod. All his life he was supposed to find the solution to a problem. Control about things was essential for Jarod. After his escape this control had become even more important.

And here he had come upon something that was out of his control, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Joshua wasn’t even sure if Jarod himself was aware of what it was that he couldn’t grasp. Josh himself had a faint idea what all this was about.

The Major had told him a few things about Jarod’s past. And Jarod, after his arrival, had told them what just happened at the Centre. Joshua had also overheard a late night conversation between his father and his brother the other night.

This was about Miss Parker. The woman he had only met once. She was always a part of Jarod's life, maybe not always the good part, but she was there. Not knowing where Miss Parker had gone was probably harder for Jarod to accept than not knowing where his Mother was.

From what Joshua understood, and he WAS a pretender too, Jarod had not EXPECTED Miss Parker’s move, and that was what he couldn’t handle!

"It was the best thing for her to do."

"I know Joshua, I know."

"Whether you saw it coming or not, doesn’t matter here either. I am sure, though a pretender, you have met other people who did surprise you before, haven’t you? I know I have. And most of the time I like surprises. It gives me a feel of NOT having everything planned or simmed. And from where I’m standing, that’s a good thing."

Jarod looked up into the face of his brother and was stunned by the boy’s insight, and smiled.

"You are a wise man young man. I should listen to you more often. I can learn from you!"

Joshua grinned at this and went on, "She told me about you."

"Who? What?"

"Miss Parker. On that day you rescued me, she came down to see me."

"You never said anything about that before!"

"Well it was only a short visit, until they came and took me. And later you weren’t really in the best mood. They had our father, and you seemed pretty mad at her, so why tell you that I thought her to actually be nice?"

This made Jarod smile even more. Leave it to her to make an impression on ALL the men in his family.

Kyle had been reluctant to shoot Lyle, because Lyle had used Miss Parker as a human shield. Even when she had furiously yelled at Kyle to shoot him, Kyle couldn’t do it, fearing he’d hit her instead.

His father had told him about Miss Parker’s visit in his cell, and how he quickly had realized that this lady, though dangerous, was not really what she appeared to be.

And now his younger brother too.



Returning his attention to Joshua, the pretender shot him a questioning, almost impatient look.

"What did she tell you about me?"

"That she had known someone like me before. Then I didn’t know that she was talking about you specifically. That I only realized later. She told me that she had seen that sad look in my eyes before, and that she had looked away. She told me that she would not look away anymore, that she would help me. She would not allow anyone to hurt me anymore."

Joshua concluded with the description of how they were interrupted and how Raines had taken him away from Miss Parker -- literally out of her arms.

What he left out was the tiny detail that being in her arms had felt better than anything else on earth.

Even now, after two years of freedom, he had not experienced anything similar. Not even eating ice cream on a sunny afternoon felt like that. For some reason he wanted this to be his secret. Maybe someday in the future he could meet her again, and then and only then, he would tell her. Only her. She deserved to know that for a brief moment his miserable life at that cold, harsh place seemed warm and caring, because she was.



Jarod was almost speechless. There you are. Surprise again. And he liked it! She had wanted to rescue the boy, risking her life in doing so! Just like her mother! A wave of sadness suddenly rushed over him. She should know, he thought. She deserved to hear it! The one thing that she’d craved all her life to hear.

In this instant Jarod wanted nothing more than to call her and to tell her. Tell her what she’d so needed to hear: that she not only looked like her mother, but she WAS just like her mother.

He wanted so much to see her at this moment; to stand in front of her, look into her eyes and tell her, "Your mother would have been proud!"

"I am sure she would."

Jarod had unintentionally said the last sentence aloud, whispered though, but loud enough for Joshua to hear.

The boy hadn’t expected the effect the story had had on Jarod. He had actually thought it could alter his mood for the better, since it was a story about something actually good at this place.

But Jarod seemed now sadder than ever, almost broken. Joshua even detected one silent tear rolling down Jarod’s left cheek, and suddenly it struck him like lightning.

"You like her!" he simply said.

The older brother stood up again and returned to the railing

"Despite all, she was my friend."

"No. I mean you love her. And don’t tell me about the ‘loving a friend’ thing. I’m sixteen almost seventeen. I know about things. I watch people, and I’m a good observer. I’ve seen this look before. And I tell you, this look only appears on a man’s face when a special woman is involved. Not when a friend is involved."



At this moment the Major turned the corner. He had a tool belt around his waist and was sweating heavily. "Hi boys. Enjoying the break?" he asked with slight sarcasm.

Jarod had been taken aback by his brother’s last comment, but with the Majors appearance he immediately felt guilty. His father apparently had been working on the house, and here he was, pondering about something that could never be.

Joshua however did not feel bad about this. In his opinion, he had been helping a lot. He was constantly ordered to do this or that and immediately so. The boy just couldn’t see the urgency. He still could paint the stupid fence tomorrow. It sure wouldn’t run away!

The baseball game on the other hand was on today, not tomorrow, so the order of things to do was self-explanatory.

The Major came up the stairs. "I’m going to take a shower." At the door he turned around and said, "And Josh, we’ll need to have a little talk about duties. You snuck out to be with your friends. Now, I know you like that better, but you know the rules. And when I ask you to do something, I expect you to do it."

"Yeah, right. But when it comes to Jarod, there are different rules, right?"

"This is not about Jarod."

"Dad, the other kids are allowed a lot more than I am. They can play all the time. Besides, there was a game on today and the others were counting on me."

Granted, his brother’s complaint wasn’t very unique, but, Jarod knew from his time on his pretends -- where he had met many parents and adolescents alike -- that his father was reverting now to what was THE eternal answer of every parent on the face of this earth.

"I don’t care what other people do. You’re living under my roof, which means my rules. And don’t you give me that look, Joshua. You are allowed a lot more than I ever was. So stop whining!"

Jarod concluded that his friend Argyle had been right. At one point, the pretender had asked Argyle about this specific parent-child discussion. And Argyle had responded in all seriousness. "I’ve been there and I’d call it ‘Parent speak’, Jarod. And it simply means ‘You can’t because I say you can’t.’ Parents use this every day, and it will never change."



The Major disappeared through the door, and Joshua was cursing, in a suppressed voice, his fate of being treated worse than any other kid he knew. He went to look for the "damn paint" and the "stupid brush".

Still grinning at this domestic scene, Jarod went after Joshua.

"Tell you what little brother: it’s late already. You help me with dinner and I’ll help you with the fence tomorrow. What do you say?"

At first Joshua wanted to turn him down. But after a quick estimation of the time he would save the next day, he accepted.



**********************

Major Charles went to the bathroom to clean up. He was worried. Not for the brief argument with Joshua, but for what he had overheard earlier. He couldn’t help but listen in to the last few words of his sons’ conversation.

If Joshua was right, and Jarod was indeed in love with Miss Parker, it would only mean more pain for his oldest.

The Major had never anticipated this possibility. In all truth, he didn’t know his son too well. How could he? When Jarod had stayed back at the airfield four years ago, he thought it was simply in Jarod’s nature to try to help, no matter who it was. It never had occurred to him that it could have been only because of her.

He himself had very mixed feelings about that woman. She was Catherine’s daughter, but she was a Parker too. Back in the Centre the Major had seen in her eyes that she would not shoot him, even though, from her point of view, she might have had a good reason to do so. After all, she had been told he had killed her mother.

But she HAD hunted Jarod and she had taken shots at him. The Major simply wasn’t sure if she was a woman Jarod should trust.

He would have to talk to him about that.



********************

Broots sat in the computer lab at the Centre. He smiled at his memory of her: always approaching from behind, always a little too close, invading his privacy.

Whenever she had a problem with her computer she ordered him to fix it, in no uncertain terms. Once, she had lost some data and she had called him and told him to get "his ass into her office ASAP." While he was quickly tapping commands into her key-board, she kept on cursing the "damn thing".

The techno freak in him had wanted her to see that not everything was so bad about computers. He had made the mistake of explaining to her: "The problem is usually in front of the screen not inside the machine. It will only do what the user is telling it to do, nothing else."

For her that was simply the "usual poor excuse of a computer geek." She was right though. It was the frequent adage he and all his IT-colleagues used.

After his little 'explanation" she had come up behind him and had leaned in very close. "Broots," she had said in a dangerously low voice, her anger only marginally contained, "did I TELL that thing to lose data? Did I tell this little piece of shit to NOT save before breaking down?"

He had found no response to that and it had been better that way. She had been in the mood to simply plunge her fist into his chest cavity and show him his still beating heart before he died.

He missed her.



*********************

Sydney conducted some experiments with twins in SL6, but he was too distracted to actually pay any attention to the results.

They had not come up with anything on Jarod in California. At least nothing Lyle had managed to discern as important. He couldn’t read Jarod’s messages as well as his predecessor could.

But Lyle’s involvement in Miss Parker’s disappearance was still lingering in Sydney’s mind. No obvious sign so far, but still…

He had framed the picture she’d given him and placed it on his mantelpiece at home.

Following her wish, Sydney went down to see her little brother everyday. He seemed all right; they took good care of him. Well, as good as you could expect at this place.

He’d do anything for her. To watch out for the little child was not even worth mentioning. He remembered all the other times she’d asked one or the other thing of him. Most of the time it had been something dangerous, mainly dangerous to her. After voicing his reluctance and the possible negative repercussions for her, she would always -- in Broots’ words -- ‘give the Nike slogan’: "Just do it, alright!"

And there wasn’t a cell in his body that could withstand her ‘just do it’ and the accompanying look on her face. Second guessing her wasn’t worth the time. You might as well try arguing with an earthquake.

The doctor dismissed his two experiment participants. They were actually volunteers, not residents of the Centre, and he was more than happy about that. Sydney had been involved in far too many atrocious endeavors already.

It was time to call it a day.

Souls of the Departed - Part 7

"Ties that Bind"

Miss Parker stood in the kitchen of her guest house throwing out the remains of her Chinese take-out dinner. She grabbed the still half-full bottle of wine and went upstairs to her room. She'd been doing nothing big the last few days: just walking or driving aimlessly around the city, doing 'sightseeing', though not really caring for the tourist attractions she passed. She was more interested in the everyday life of Washington.

She enjoyed being a 'normal' person, doing normal stuff. But while discovering the city, she paid particular attention to all "for rent" or "for sale" signs on all the front lawns in the residential areas.-- not yet sure if she really wanted to stay here, but interested anyway. She had time. She still had three weeks booked and Mr. Ledeen had told her that she always could extend her reservation.

Taking large gulps of her wine, she undressed and got ready for bed. It was the second bottle. Miss Parker hoped the amount and the pace would help her find some sleep. The now almost drunk woman got into bed, pulled up the covers and curled up, hoping for the impact of the alcohol. And like every night, before closing her eyes, she whispered a soft 'goodnight'.

It was her way of saying 'I miss you' to her mother, her father, Thomas, the friends she'd left and to the one man she hadn't said goodbye to.

****************

Four people in four different beds, in three different states found it harder to get some decent sleep than was usual. None of those four was actually known to ever sleep through one night, but this was different from their usual nightmares. This time none of them had a nightmare. No one could really fall asleep at all. They all were rather engulfed by a feeling of uneasiness, of trouble looming just around the corner.

For two of them the intensity was almost unbearable. A hardly discernible voice seemed to constantly whisper incomprehensible words inside their heads. It was driving them crazy.

**********************

The woman now living under the name of Celia Ward sat in an easy chair with a glass of vodka in her hand. It was past three in the morning. She just couldn't sleep. It had been the fourth consecutive night and all the alcohol in the world wasn't helping. As soon as she had closed her eyes, this unidentified creepy feeling rushed over her. And then there was this voice inside her head. Any thought of sleep was wishful thinking.

***********************

The man who grew up as Bobby Bowman, and now was known as Mr. Lyle lingered on the couch that used to be his sister's. He had a laptop in front of him and browsed through the newest websites that offered men happiness with the click of a mouse. One beautiful woman after the other appeared on the screen, all of them of clear Asian descent.

He couldn't sleep and he couldn't understand why. The first few nights after moving into his sister's former house - his mother's sanctuary - he had slept better than ever before in his life. But this was the fourth night that this incredible sense of doom washed over him as soon as he had closed his eyes. And there was this voice. It was something he had never experienced before. Nothing he did helped to quiet it, helped to calm his nerves.

***********************

Jarod threw back his blanket with an exasperated sigh. 'Here we go again,' he thought. This had to stop. He hadn't had that much trouble sleeping since he got out of the Centre. Trying to not wake anyone up, he descended the stairs. In the dark living room he saw a slight gleam of light peaking our from beneath the door leading to the kitchen.

Quietly, so he wouldn't startle what was probably his father, he opened the door and realized that it was his younger brother. Joshua sat on the table with a large bowl of ice cream in front of him.

"Couldn't sleep either, eh?" the young man asked in a low voice. Just then Jarod noticed the dark circles around Joshua's eyes. He had an impossible weary look on his face, and the older brother knew it was mirrored on his own.

"Yeah and by the looks of it, you had trouble to do so for days, too!"

Jarod heated up a pot of milk, got his laptop out of the case and settled down. In less than a minute he entered the Centre mainframe. Whenever he felt like that, it was best to check up on his enemies.

While going through the data he conferred with Joshua about possible reasons for their trouble to find sleep.

Twenty minutes later he shut the computer down again. He had not found anything out of the ordinary. Nothing to be too upset about.other than their usual despicable activities, that is.

For a moment he thought about calling Sydney, but discarded the idea quickly. He'd do it in the morning. His bad sleeping pattern was no reason to cause his former mentor the same.

***********************

Miss Parker paced up and down in her room. She had tried to ignore it for days but she knew exactly what she was suffering from. This was not insomnia, not something to be cured with sleeping pills. It was her inner sense.

She was provided with her mother's gift, but she could not make use of it in any way. Once, back in the Centre, Sydney had tried to help her come to terms with it. It was a marginally successful endeavour, but not something she could really work on.

Ever since that she had tried to get some sort of a grip on it. She'd tried to meditate and discern what her mother supposedly said. But both times just got her an Excedrin-worthy headache. And she hated having a headache.

She knew she was not considered a 'nice person', and usually she didn't care about her reputation. Most of the time she'd rather enjoyed being the 'Ice Queen' since it helped move things along big time. But when she was hurting like this, her usual demeanour seemed downright benign.

People who had crossed her path after her two attempts to meditate had paid a heavy price. At one point she went to a pharmacy and only wanted some pain relievers. She felt extremely eager to beat the overly chatty salesperson to a mute puddle. She couldn't help herself.

"Listen. I have a gun, you snot-nosed little punk and I have no intention of listening to your senseless babble. The medication NOW!" She had said that in an even tone, locking eyes with the young man.

That had sent more than a thrill of fear into him. He started to sweat heavily. In a hurry and with trembling hands he handed her the appropriate bottle of pills and the change.

The memory of that incident made her smile though. That had occurred the day before, and she hoped not to encounter too many people the day ahead, for their sake. I It was certainly not a good sign that she felt her inner sense now. She was probably in trouble. Though, what was the cause?

As she took the last sip of the liquor, it struck her like lightning. No, she was not in trouble. . She had been in far too many dangerous situations in her life and had never felt it before. This was not about her. But her half brother Ethan.he had felt it when her life had been in jeopardy. Maybe it was now the other way around. Maybe he was in danger. It seemed like a very logical conclusion.

If, in fact, Ethan's life was at risk, she had to do something about it! After all, he was her mother's son and he had helped her back then too. But could she find him? Where could he be? Where to start looking for him?

All those questions attacked her mind while already packing up her things. She would find a way.

The last question that ran through her mind was: do I even have a choice?

**********************

Four printouts were lying beside Lyle's computer: pictures of four women, all of them from Southeast Asia; all of them smiling. They were all mail- order brides. But after going through those potential candidates for a while, Lyle discarded the pictures and went outside. It was dawn already and he felt dead tired.

He sat down on the wooden stairs of the back porch and wondered briefly how many times his sister had sat here. This single thought led him to an idea that almost made him jump.

Miss Parker had claimed to hear a voice, her.their mother's voice. She was his twin. If she had really been telling the truth, why wouldn't he also be able to hear it? Was that possible? Well, he had learned a long time ago, that anything was possible when it came to his family.

But what did it mean? She had heard the voice when someone, Mr. Parker, had been in danger. Who could be in danger now? Not that he cared much. There was no one he cared for enough. But he wanted to get to the roots of this.

And then he remembered: his sister's inner sense made its first known appearance around the time Ethan showed up at the scene. Ethan was HIS half brother too. If this was about this other wayward experiment, then this could get interesting.

Lyle was sure that Ethan was with his other half brother, especially if he really was in some kind of trouble. Always watching out for others, the 'goody-two-shoes' of a pretender would be there. If he could find Ethan, he would also find Jarod.

Every praise on my knowledge of English should go to my beta-angel! Go back to my first three unbeta-ed chapters and you'll know what I mean. She'll run out of red ink soon, I tell you!

Souls of the Departed Part 8 "Two for the Road"

Broots entered the sim lab looking for Sydney. "Sydney, you wanted me down here?" Not detecting the doctor anywhere, he looked around cautiously but kept on calling for his colleague with a suppressed voice. "Sydney? Sydney, are you here?"

From the back of the lab he heard Sydney call him with a hushed tone. "Here Broots, I'm here"

Broots was surprised to find the psychiatrist on floor level, crouched in the opening of the ventilation shaft. Broots knelt down in front of the shaft and finally saw what the doctor was doing there. Angelo cowered just behind Sydney in the back. Between the two men was an open box that contained an immense amount of all sorts of memorabilia. This was definitely one of Angelo's treasure boxes.

Sydney looked up at Broots with worry on his face. "Angelo wouldn't come out. And he keeps on mumbling something incomprehensible. It's been happening for hours now.

"What's that in his hand?" The technician pointed towards some paper in Angelo's hands.

"I don't know. But he has been holding on to it ever since I got here. It must be the reason for his current behaviour."

Just then Angelo looked up. Haunted eyes peered from Sydney to Broots, then he returned his gaze to the piece of paper in his hands.

"Trouble. Needs connection. Mother. Looking for home."

Those were the first coherent words that had escaped from Angelo's lips in hours. Then Angelo held up the paper and passed it to Sydney. After he had let go of it, he grabbed his box and retreated, again mumbling unintelligibly.

Sydney took the piece of paper which was actually a picture: a picture of Ethan. It had been taken many years ago when he had still been one of Raines' experiments.

**********************

Joshua lay on the couch watching morning television. He hadn't even tried to go back to sleep after having the ice cream in the wee hours of the morning. He knew it would have been in vain.

Neither had Jarod. He was out on the porch watching the sunrise. The pretender had so much on his mind that he needed to sort through. There was this fear of never finding any little bit of descent sleep again; the fear that his younger brother shared with him the same fate. That he could not help Joshua made him feel endlessly useless.

There was Joshua's statement from the day before: 'You love her.'

And there was the ensuing discussion later that evening with his father regarding this very statement. It had been rather an argument than a discussion. His first with his father actually.

As much as he loved his father, he was a grown man and entitled to have his own life. That was what he had said to the Major, though he would've liked to simply say: "That's none of your damn business!"

He hadn't though. It had been impossible for him to talk to his father that way. Jarod knew he had to work on that because there were things that were none of his father's business.

Did he really love her the way Joshua had implied? Maybe. Probably. 'Who am I kidding?' He would just need one honest moment with himself. He'd just have to add up all the time he had spent thinking about her, recollect all the things he knew about her and their common past And if he analysed this with all he had learned and knew about emotions and love, he'd have to say a healthy 'yes'.

But what about her? Weren't her actions back in that limousine in Glasgow signs enough that she'd never reciprocate? Could he survive one more turn down like that?

He still would've liked to talk to his father about his conflicting feelings. But it seemed impossible. As long as his father would still regard her as some kind of danger, he was just too biased to be of any help.

That he himself was unsure about her was enough for him. He needed someone objective towards her and himself.

He took out his cell phone and dialed Sydney's number.

"Sydney here."

"Sydney, do you think that some..."

His former mentor interrupted him quite unceremoniously. "Jarod! I'm glad you called. You'll have to find Ethan."

"Ethan? Sydney, what's wrong?"

"Angelo told us Ethan might be in trouble. He didn't say anything else, but it sounded serious."

"Angelo is always serious about things. This is not good, not good at all. Where should I start looking for him? Anything from your side?"

"Nothing you could work on. But I keep checking. For now you'll be on your own."

"Thank you Sydney. I'll call again."

He hung up and returned to the house. His father was already making coffee. While starting to pack up his few belongings, Jarod explained to Joshua and the Major what was going on.

"Joshua, I think I know now why we had so much trouble sleeping lately. Actually it's just a hunch but it has to be Ethan. He has a very unique gift that I still don't know all about. We are connected to him. We might be able to feel him ...somehow!"

"Jarod," his father came up in front of him, "you've told us how Ethan had felt Miss Parker before. So if even you two can feel him in some remote way, don't you think she'd feel it even more so?"

With a slight smile on his face, Jarod answered, "I hope so dad, I truly hope so." To escape any further argument, the pretender simply put his hand on his father's shoulder and added with a more serious face, "I promise I'll be careful."

Jarod stowed his computer and travel bag in the trunk of his car, all the while thinking about all the possible places Ethan could've gone. Sydney had repeated Angelo's words to him: "Trouble. Needs connection. Mother. Looking for home."

He briefly wondered if his half brother had gone back to the house where his now dead foster parents had lived. Jarod discarded this idea after a second thought, remembering that Ethan now knew who his real parents were. No, he was not there. The pretender concluded that the troubled young man was looking for a connection to his real family.

During the short time both brothers were together, Ethan would sit for hours on a chair looking at his mother's picture. Yes, Jarod thought, he was looking for anything remotely connected to Catherine Parker.

After saying goodbye to Joshua and the Major, promising to keep in touch daily and to bring Ethan home to them safely, he got in his car and drove off.

Catherine was born in a suburban town near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She'd written in her diary how happy her childhood there had been. Jarod had read it. Maybe Ethan was looking for some connection to her there. It was a start, a start as good as any.

******************************

Lyle stood hidden in the shadow above them. He had heard the conversation between Sydney and the pretender. The sole heir of the Parker legacy smiled to himself. Why go on an exhausting, and probably futile, search on his own when others would do so much better?

He always had suspected Raines' idiot to be more than just a mumbling idiot. Angelo just seemed to know when things were about to get ugly. And Lyle knew that on most of those times, Sydney would find out and - of course - tell Jarod about it.

Now all he had to do was wait. Either the sponge-idiot would tell them where to look for Ethan or Jarod would find him and tell Sydney about it. He only had to stay close.

*******************************

Miss Parker had just left Washington behind and was feeling very apprehensive. In the early hours of the morning she'd come up with an idea where to start looking for her brother. She'd decided since she did not really know anything at all, it was at least something. Heading north, she got onto the interstate and never looked back. It felt good on some metaphysical level to be back into the hunting game, so to speak.

After Ethan had rescued her from the burning building two years ago, they had spent a few hours together. Her brother had asked her to tell him about their mother.

Miss Parker had told him what kind of woman Catherine had been, what an extraordinary lady their mother really was. Ethan had asked many questions about this and that. And he also wanted to know if his sister knew what had made Catherine really happy in her life.

This question actually had made her feel more than a little sad. Her mother hadn't had a life that one could even remotely regard as happy. But still, there were moments, and she had gladly shared her knowledge with her half brother.

Catherine had always been in the best mood after spending time painting in her studio. She would have the most incredible smile on her face when she came back from one of her visits to the orphanage and could tell her daughter that another little child had found a family. And then Miss Parker told her brother that she truly hoped that her mother had been happy when spending time with her.

Ethan also heard about a man named Ben, the man who had been his mother's lover for some years. Appropriately, she'd always loved to go on her annual 'vacation' to see him. In Maine.

All this had gone through Miss Parker's mind earlier that morning. And she concluded that she'd drive up to Lake Catherine, Maine, to look for her brother.

************************

Jarod was somewhere in Pennsylvania. He had been driving for an hour, all the time tapping his fingers nervously on the wheel. He hated it when things were out of his control. The pretender knew he had to prepare for whatever was expecting him after finding his half brother.

They could encounter a group of sweepers, or worse, sweepers led by Lyle.

Ethan could be in some other kind of trouble, physically hurt or in mental distress. Jarod had to think ahead of any precaution and any possible way to help Ethan. Being one step ahead had always been the road to his success and, more importantly, the reason for his survival.

Still, all those difficulties where things he could expect, he could prepare for. But to think in mathematical terms, and he frequently fell back on doing so, there was one independent variable in his equation: Miss Parker.

What if she really showed up? What would she do? What would he say? The crux of the matter was he simply could not prepare for THAT.

He was pretty sure she'd felt his brother even more than he or Joshua had. His father had been right on that one. Jarod was also convinced that she would immediately try to find Ethan, no matter where she was at the moment. Would she know where to look for him? Would she come to the same conclusion he had and go straight to her mother's childhood home?

Ethan had told him that Miss Parker had been more than willing to share some memories about their mother. His younger brother had definitely kept a few of those things to himself, and rightly so. Those memories belonged to Catherine's children alone. But after a while Ethan had asked Jarod if he had ever heard of a man named Ben.

The pretender would never lie to his brother, so he admitted that Miss Parker had actually known about Ben only because of him.

That's when it happened. Jarod suddenly felt like a complete idiot. With only a brief look in the rear-view mirror he steered the car to the right and stepped on the brakes. The car came to a screeching halt on the emergency lane. Slamming his head on the wheel a few times, the pretender cursed himself for his stupidity.

Jarod took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He turned the ignition on again and got the vehicle back on the road, looking for the next exit sign. Jarod got off the interstate only to drive in what seemed to be a maze of roads and directions, back on the same road again. This time, though, in the opposite direction. He needed to head back. His new destination was Maine, New England.

"Further on up the Road"

"Sydney here."

"Sydney, I think I know where Ethan could be. I'm heading there right now. Anything from Angelo?"

"No, Jarod. He just kept on saying the same words all over again."

"Check out all Centre-issued orders regarding a search team for Ethan, Sydney! I need to keep on the road. I don't want to lose valuable time."

"I'll have Broots on it right away. Jarod, you know that besides the Centre, Miss Parker could be on this too. I don't think it would mean that she'd be hunting you anymore. But we have no idea what kind of mood she'll be in, so try to avoid picking a fight with her, for both of your sakes."

"I'm not worried about Miss Parker," the pretender lied. "I'm more concerned with Lyle showing up there, so check up on him." With that he ended the conversation and returned his attention to the road.

*******************

Miss Parker disregarded any speed limit the State had ever issued. She had already passed the border to Maine. The drive had been more than arduous, but she was close now. She got off the highway and drove through the small town. At the end of the main road she turned left then another left and then right. She was almost there. Turning into the driveway she pulled a stop right in front of Ben's guest house. The anxious woman got out of her car not even caring to lock it. At the door she knocked three times and waited impatiently for Ben to open.

*************************

Lyle entered the sim lab and found what - or rather who - he was looking for. Angelo sat on the floor in a corner, again holding something in his hand. He crossed the room quickly and very deliberately cut all possible ways for Angelo to get away from him. The poor empath was not afraid of him, but would never stay near him voluntarily.

With a dangerous smile on his face Lyle crouched down to be eye-level with his 'prey'. "So, Angelo, tell me, something on your demented mind I should know?" Angelo just gazed at him with an empty expression. He said nothing in return, but tried to hide what he had held in his hand.

This did not go unnoticed by Lyle. With a quick move, he grabbed him by his collar and pulled him in a standing position. "Gimme that, you idiot!" he gritted through his teeth and ripped the piece out of Angelo's hand.

He took a quick glance, and smiled again. It was a picture of a man and his mother, both sitting on a front porch swing and smiling broadly. Wherever Angelo had got that from - probably his sister - was not important to him. What was important was who that man was and where he would find him. Because, Lyle was sure, it had to be the final hint that would help him on his current mission: finding Ethan.

He dialled a number and ordered two sweepers to come down to the sim lab. He wanted them to watch over Angelo. The freak must not get near Sydney or Broots anytime soon. At least not until Lyle had found who he was looking for. It would just spoil the surprise!

With the face and the house number clearly visible on the picture, he'd have no big problem in finding the location of the house and its owner.

***************************

"Miss Parker! What a surprise! How are you? Come on in." "Ben. I'm fine, thank you. I actually need your help with something." Following him into the house, she tried to stay calm.

"Anything Miss Parker, anything. Can I offer you some coffee?" "No thank you. I have no time. I am looking for someone and was wondering if you'd seen him. If he had been here maybe?" With that she produced a picture of Ethan and handed it over.

Ben was a little puzzled at her behaviour; he thought that she'd wanted to stay at his place again for a few days. Nevertheless, he took the photo and studied it closely.

"Well, he had longer hair, and a three day growth on his face. But yes, I think that was him. He appeared here five days ago, stayed one night and moved on. He was acting a little weird though."

"What do you mean? And do you know where he wanted to go from here?"

"No he didn't say anything. Well, weird in a nice way. He was kind of shy and very quiet. Introverted I guess. He had said he loved it here, that it almost felt like home. Miss Parker, you seem to know him. Who is he?"

"He's my brother and I need to find him. Has anyone else asked for him? Maybe some muscles in suits? A man with a leather glove maybe?"

"Your brother? I wasn't aware that you had one. Catherine never mentioned him. And no, no one else came here to ask for him. Why?"

"It's better you don't know. Please, Ben, for your sake and Ethan's," she said, raising the picture, "don't tell anyone about this. Not about him and not about me being here, OK?"

"Of course Miss Parker. But really, tell me what this is about. I might be able to help."

"No. I am sorry Ben, but I can't talk about it. Not now. When everything is clear and I've found Ethan I'll return. And then we'll have coffee and I'll tell you, I promise."

With an affectionate handshake Miss Parker left. Back in her car, she went through her conversation again. She had been right. Ethan had looked for some place he could feel his mother. But why leave so soon. Where could he have gone? She turned on the ignition and slowly made it down the driveway. She decided to drive around the lake. She wanted to take in the scenery. The sun would go down soon; it had got late. Maybe she should go back and take a room at Ben's for one night.

Pondering over the wisdom of doing so, she saw a man taking a stroll on the lake shore. He was not too tall and had brunette long hair. She stopped her car and tried to get a better look at him. Suddenly the man looked up at the street and their eyes met.

Miss Parker left her car on the side of the road and moved towards her brother, who made his way up to the streets. When they finally stood face to face, Ethan simply smiled. "Miss Parker."

"Ethan."

"I knew someone was coming. I didn't know who, so I left the house our mother used to live in. I didn't want to draw any attention to Ben."

"That was good. But you were there five days ago. Where are you staying now?"

"Every night at another Inn. But always nearby. I like it here. She feels close here."

"You are talking about our mother?"

"Yes. She'd been talking to me a lot lately. Nothing I can make sense of though, but talking nevertheless. I had the feeling I needed to get here. I don't know why."

"Let's go someplace where we could talk, ok?"

"I'm staying at this Inn ten minutes from here. They have a nice winter- garden with a view of the lake. Let's go there."

***************************

It was already dark when Jarod arrived at Ben's inn. Just like Miss Parker a few hours before, he knocked on the front door, hardly awaiting the answer.

When Ben opened up, his surprise at his visitor couldn't be bigger. He actually had awaited someone similar to Miss Parker's description, but not the nice young man he had met many years ago. He recognized Jarod at once. He was a man you'd never forget.

"Jarod! Now, that is another big surprise! Come in."

"Hello Ben. It's nice to see you again. Another surprise? What was the 'other'?"

"Well, Miss Parker appeared out of nowhere just a few hours ago, and now you!"

"Miss Parker? Is she still here?" With a frantic pace he entered and looked all around.

"No, she'd left again. I'm sorry. You're looking for her?" "Yes, that too. But actually I am looking for my brother. Have you seen him?" With that he held the picture of Ethan up for Ben to see. Ben looked at the same photograph of the same man as before, when Jarod's words sank in: 'his brother'.

"Jarod, you said your brother. Miss Parker told me the exact same thing. What's all this about?"

"It's a long story. Suffice it to say that it's the truth. He is our brother, but it's rather complicated. So, did Miss Parker leave with him? And if so, where to? Do you know?"

The resemblance of the two conversations almost seemed comical to Ben.

"Again, no. Miss Parker was late too. I told her Ethan had been here for one night and then left. She got in her car again after that and disappeared. I don't know where to. Come on, Jarod, have a tea or coffee with me and tell me what this is all about."

Reluctantly Jarod accepted the invitation and opted for tea. He couldn't do anything at the moment. He needed a bed to sleep for the night, some peace and quiet to think, and a phone line for his laptop.

*********************************

Lyle had learned that Ben Miller lived in a small town in Maine. Whatever his connection to Catherine Parker was, Lyle didn't know. That didn't matter anyway. Unlike his sister, he was not even slightly interested in this part of their mother's life. He had only needed the address. With the order to have the Centre jet ready by five a.m., he left his office and went home.

*******************************

It was nine o'clock in the morning. With coffee in her hand Miss Parker sat in the winter-garden of the guest house she and her brother had spent the night in. They had had a long conversation after returning to the house yesterday. It had been almost 2 a.m, when they finally retreated to their rooms to get some sleep. As she had been expecting, Ethan had been looking for a family connection here. He had felt Catherine's presence at Ben's and also while strolling around the beautiful lake.

Ethan had told her that during the past few months he felt an indescribable desire to get in touch with his family. Their mother's voice had led him here, and the desire had subsided.

Miss Parker realized that her brother needed closure. He needed a family, but she was not sure if she would be the right part of that family for him.

She finished her morning coffee and went upstairs to look for Ethan. When he did not answer her discreet knock, she opened the door only to find the room empty. Back downstairs she asked their host if he had seen the young man. She found out that Ethan went for a walk over an hour ago, and hadn't returned yet.

The tall woman took her leather coat and went outside. The lake in front of the house was of a deep blue colour and the sun was up high already. It sure would be another beautiful day.

She saw what seemed to be an old, abandoned fisher house -- about eight hundred yards left from the guesthouse -- and decided to walk over there.

A boardwalk made of wooden planks led a few yards into the lake. It had probably been used to tie boats to. Ethan sat on the edge of the boardwalk, his legs hanging in the air. Miss Parker went towards him, careful not to startle her brother.

But he seemed to know that she was approaching and turned his head in her direction. Smiling, he patted the planks inviting her to sit beside him. She sat down on his left and for a few minutes the siblings were enjoying the scenery in silence.

***************************

Jarod had bid goodbye to Ben. The pretender had wanted to leave around seven, but Ben had prepared him a huge delicious breakfast that he just couldn't resist. So it was almost nine when he finally got into his car and moved on. He wanted to make sure that Ben wouldn't have to encounter a surprise visit by any sweepers so he decided to drive around town a little to check out everything. He drove on the road that led all around Lake Catherine and kept his eyes open for any black cars that seemed suspicious.

It was fifteen minutes later that something down at the lake seemed awfully out of place. He was on the road and had a good view down to the lake. He saw a small, very old building. The place was clearly abandoned, so who would be sitting on a boardwalk of an abandoned fisher house? The two people, apparently a man and a woman, sat side by side and watched the lake.

Maybe that was just a couple enjoying the romantic scenery? The man had just put his hand on the woman's. Yes, probably two lovers who wanted to be by themselves.

Just as Jarod decided to move on the woman got up and stretched herself a bit. What he saw was a physical appearance that was so unique and so familiar to him. It was a sight that was burned into his brain forever, and a sight he had almost given up of ever seeing again.

Miss Parker.

***************************

Miss Parker got back on her feet again. "Are you planning to stay here any longer? I mean here in Maine?" the woman asked.

"I don't know. What about you? What do you want?"

"If I only knew. Ethan, I was planning on starting a new life without looking back. And now that I've found you again, I just don't know anymore."

"I don't want you to feel obligated to stay with me. I'm alright. I think I'll stay a little longer. Maybe not around here, but in the general area. And then I think I might start to look for the other part of my family. You can leave. We can just come up with something to stay in touch."

"I don't like the idea of leaving you again on your own. But I understand. You still have a father out there."

"Yes. And another brother."

"Yeah, another brother. Ethan, you need to do me a favour. When you find them, when you find Jarod, don't tell him about this, about me."

"Why not?"

"Because she forgot to say goodbye." This answer startled them both and they turned around only to see the pretender standing a few yards away.

Usual disclaimer. New: One line is actually ‘borrowed’ from Melissa Etheridge.


Souls of the Departed Part 10

"Point Blank"




Lyle entered the small town on Lake Catherine early in the morning. He got there straight from a small airport that was the closest. It had still taken him almost two hours to arrive here. It was around nine o’clock. He had come alone, without sweepers. The eloquent man didn’t want to appear suspicious to anyone and was fairly certain he could get a hold of the pretender on his own. His Smith and Wesson would make sure of that.



He needed some gas, and then would ask for directions to Ben’s house. Paying cash at the station, a small picture fell out of his wallet. The customer behind him bent down to retrieve it. The man peeked at the photo and handed it back to Lyle, who seemed very annoyed.

"That a family member of yours?"

"Actually he is my brother. Have you met him?"

"You must have some kind of family reunion here, eh? He and his sister are staying at my cousin’s place. Been there last night for a visit. That boy and that sister of yours had just checked in. So you all meet there?"

At the mention of his sister, Lyle was more than surprised. He tried to hide it though and quickly went with the premise.

"Yes. We don’t see each other often, so we meet every once in a while on a brief vacation. I was kind of confused yesterday and forgot the address where we were supposed to meet. Can you give me directions? I think it was called ‘Ben’s Inn’ or something?"

"Ah, no, it’s the ‘Lakeside Inn’. It’s just two miles west on the Lakeside Drive that leads around the lake. You’ll find a sign on the road. Can’t miss it."

"Tell me, was there another man with them? Tall, dark hair. He is the oldest brother. Have you seen him?"

"Ah, no not last night, no. Only the younger man and this woman. She’s good looking. Must have been hell to keep away all the boys chasing her, eh!" the man added with a smile.

Not giving an answer to this last comment, Lyle made his way to the car.

"Thanks, that was very helpful. It would be a shame if I’d drive around for hours looking at the wrong places and lose valuable time I could spend with my siblings."



So Miss Parker was there, but not Jarod. That changed his plan actually. Lyle concluded that in the end it wouldn’t matter though. If he could get his hands on Ethan, Jarod would come. And his sister? She would leave. He’d make sure of that. He would just need to prevent her from finding out that he planned to use their younger brother against Jarod.



************************



Jarod took a close look at them both. Ethan seemed alright and Miss Parker... she looked better than he had ever seen her. After seeing her standing three yards in front of him, in tight leather pants and a long leather coat that went down to her ankles, a feeling of eternal bliss overcame him. He had found her again!

"What monkey-boy? No smart aleck words at being superb in finding us here? No words of caution for Ethan to not chat up with the Centre-huntress?"

"Miss Parker, please. The last thing I want is get into a verbal showdown with you. And I would never tell Ethan to stay away from you. Since you’re obviously not with the Centre anymore, there is no need for us to fight now."

"So if you’re not here to grab Ethan and disappear into thin air, what DO you want?"

"I came to see if Ethan is alright. I had the feeling that something was up. I just wanted to make sure he’s Ok."

"Now you know, and it’s time for you to go Jarod."

"Parker, I want to talk to him and you. We need to."

"We? No Jarod. You might have the feeling that we need to. I don’t. There is nothing I want to say to you except ‘get lost’. I know what you want genius. You want answers. But I’m not willing to give them. How does that feel for a change? You’ve been dangling things in front of me for years, never really telling me what I needed to know. I’d call it payback

Jarod. What would you call it?"



Miss Parker didn’t even know why she was acting so hostile towards the pretender. She didn’t want to fight anymore either. And he looked so good standing there in his trademark black jeans and black leather jacket. His hair was still a bit too long. He sported a three day growth of beard that gave his face a bit of a dangerous expression. It gave him a bit of an Italian look and it was downright appealing.

He was a very attractive man on regular days, but to see him like that made her heart beat faster.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Jarod’s reply.

"I’ve never kept anything from you that concerned you or your mother. You know that! The only thing I NEVER told you was where I was, for apparent reasons. And now, please..."

"OK, for the sake of the argument, you’ve told me everything that concerned me. The thing is this. My being here and my decision to leave have got nothing to do with you. So why would I tell you anything then, hm?"

The truth was she actually didn’t know HOW to tell him why she had left like that; why she had wanted him out of her hair and out of her heart simply because she didn’t know herself.

She knew he wanted things for her – and of her. But Miss Parker was sure that he could only want what she could never be or ever give.



******************************



At that moment Lyle appeared from around the corner of the fisher house with more than a smug grin on his face. His Smith and Wesson was in his hand.

"And once more, we have one big happy family reunion. Funny how history repeats itself, don’t you think sis?"

He had his gun in his hand and trained right at Ethan’s heart.

All three of them were shocked to say the least. With all the anger and wrath that had been building up for years inside of him, Jarod squeezed his eyes and grumbled a single, "Lyle."

Miss Parker stood in the middle, two yards to the left of Ethan and three to the right of Jarod. Lyle’s position gave him the advantage of facing all three of them. With the gun still aimed at Ethan, he looked right to Jarod.

"I feel a sense of deja vu here, genius. What do you feel?"

Miss Parker slowly took a step towards Lyle and tried to keep calm. "Lyle, you goddamn bastard, put down the gun or I swear..."

"Ah ah, sis, stop it right there. This has got nothing to do with you. All I want is Jarod."

Saying this, he aimed the gun for one second at his sister and then back at Ethan, all in one quick motion. Just then he reached quickly into his pocket and produced a pair of handcuffs which he threw towards Jarod. It fell merely a yard in front of its intended target on to the grass.

"Pick ‘em up Jarod, and put them on. Slowly, or you’ll lose yet another family member."

"He is your brother too, Lyle." His sister fell into it. "Leave him out of this right now."

"Sis, when will it finally sink into that thick brain of yours? I don’t care who he is or what he is, as long as I get what I want. And I want Jarod. So, as I was saying..."

With that he gave a nod in the direction of the handcuffs.

Jarod needed time. He wanted to draw Lyle’s attention solely towards himself. "You’ve never kept your word. Why would I follow your orders when there is still the chance you’d shoot him just to spite me? And I think you’d be able to do just that."

"Hm, you know what? You’re right. I could and I feel almost tempted to do so." After a short pause he added "Sis, I’m offering you a deal."

"What deal?"

"You take the cuffs and put them on the jackpot here. Take him to my car and lock him into the trunk. Then I let you two go."

He looked right into his sister’s eyes and was daring her with a determined expression, never taking the gun away from Ethan.

Miss Parker glanced over at Ethan. Her younger brother just stood there, as if this had nothing to do with him. He had his eyes closed and rubbed his temples as if to try to wipe away the pain he was apparently in.

A previously unknown degree of compassion overcame her. This young man had suffered so much, and was still in so much agony.



She turned her head to face Jarod. In what was only a time-span of mere seconds, all the anger and hurt and hope and pleas for understanding passed between them.

With great resolve she stepped slowly towards the cuffs still on the ground, her eyes never leaving Jarod’s.

With her back to Lyle she slowly knelt down to retrieve the cuffs. And then, with all the experience she had as a trained professional, she made her move.

One hand reached out to grab the cuffs, the other went underneath her leather coat to reach for her gun. Kneeling down on one leg she made a swift turn of 360 degrees. Not even a full second had passed and Miss Parker was training her own gun right at Lyle’s head.



"The deal is off, Lyle. You harm Ethan, you’re dead. And this time, no return ticket."

Jarod watched all this in awe. He really had expected her to follow Lyle’s demand. He would not have resisted, not as long as Ethan’s life was on the line.

Once again this incredible woman had managed to astonish him. But he still didn’t move, afraid he would make things worse than they already were. He had to think. Quickly. If he could get Lyle to aim the gun at himself, Ethan could get away. His thoughts were interrupted by the words coming from Lyle.

"You know, you really could be the poster girl for Soldier of Fortune!" Lyle growled with a feral grin. "Put down that gun of yours sis or you’ll pay the price!"

"No way in hell," Miss Parker replied, trying not to look scared for her half brother.



"We all make our own hell Miss Parker," Lyle returned with the smile of an animal about to plunge his teeth into his prey. "I hope you enjoy yours."

"Wages of Sin"

With that, Lyle pulled the trigger. He hit Ethan right in the chest. At the moment of impact, Ethan opened his eyes in surprise. His hands , that had been rubbing his skull, simply dropped to his sides. . In slow motion he fell backwards on to the grass.

A mere millisecond after the first shot rang, a second followed suit. The bullet hit Lyle point blank between the eyes. He was dead before he had reached the ground.

Jarod and Miss Parker both tended Ethan only another half a second later. The Pretender immediately analysed the damage in a professional manner.

"Tell me he is going to be alright. Jarod tell me!" she almost pleaded.

"Miss Parker, I..he was hit right in his heart. I don't think that there is anything we can do," he answered with devastation in his voice. The woman dropped to her knees, took Ethan's head into her lap and pulled the strands of hair off his face.

"Damn it! You are the genius, the pretender, the know-it-all-do-it-all! Give him CPR. Take the bullet out of his chest with a rusty knife if you have to! Help him for God's sake!" The woman didn't even look up while yelling her demands at the seemingly helpless pretender.

His only answer was a soft whisper. "I'm sorry. I can't." With that Jarod took off his jacket and covered Ethan's blood stained chest. Tears ran down his face. He felt the pain in his heart. It was like an external force was pulling at it as if to tear it apart.

Miss Parker's own tears were clearly visible since heavy mascara was leaving dark lines on her cheeks. Ethan was dead. After all the terrible things he had survived, he died by the hand of his half brother. "I'm sorry. Ethan, I'm so sorry."

Jarod thought he knew what she was thinking. She blamed herself for taking out the gun instead of following Lyle's order. "It wasn't your fault. Lyle wanted to kill, no matter what you or I would have done."

Cold fury overcame her. She carefully put Ethan's head back down on to the grass and got up. "You're damn right lab rat! It wasn't my fault!"

She went over to where Lyle had gone down. Miss Parker wanted to make sure that her psychopathic twin really was dead.

Jarod got up too, but never left Ethan's side. "We need to clean up here. Get Ethan away and hide Lyle somewhere so the Centre can retrieve him."

"Yeah, let them have him, dissect him or do whatever they want to do with him! Is that what you're saying?"

"Think about it Parker. You killed him. Though it was in defense, we'd better not get the authorities involved in this. I realize he is your brother too, but I don't think you want to stay hours at a police-station and give a detailed report on what this is all about.""

"I don't care what happens to Lyle, or me! I just want it all to end!"

"You need to get a grip here Parker. Come on, Let's put Lyle into the old house. I'll call Sydney and make up a story that won't include you. I promise. Then we take Ethan's body and bury him somewhere here at the lake. He'd like that."

Jarod felt awful acting so rationally at this moment. But if she was falling apart, he needed to think for both of them.

Miss Parker, though, wasn't finished yet. "He should be with her, not alone in some forgotten grave! He should be buried beside her, with his name on it, the name that would tell the world he was her son. But guess what? He can't even have that 'cause she ain't in no damn grave, now is she?"

Her tears came down again heavily. She seemed so lost, so broken. Her eyes took on a dark colour, a colour he had seen there before: the colour of loss. Jarod almost couldn't take it. He wanted so much to help her, hold her and console her. He knew that he would also find some consolation in that, but her present behaviour told him that he'd better keep his distance.

*********************

It was late afternoon. The sun was about to go down. Two exceptional people stood in front of a small wooden cross. It was a remote area: a small patch of grass surrounded by thick bushes and trees. The lake was just behind the trees to the left.

Though reluctant to leave, Jarod knew it was best to get on the road again. But Miss Parker simply didn't move. She had said almost nothing ever since they dragged Lyle into the fisher-house. Only once, after they had wrapped up Ethan in a blanket and put him into the self-made grave, had she muttered about something she needed from her car.

The woman returned with the picture of her mother. Before they had put him down she had opened up the blanket again and put the framed picture into both of Ethan's hands so that it was securely placed on her brother's chest. "Watch over him mom. At least now!"

Jarod was slightly confused at the meaning of those words. Not so much at her choice of words, but at her tone. It sounded almost like an accusation.

They had closed the grave with two old shovels they had found in the fisher- house.

Former hunter and prey stood in front of the closed grave. Jarod wanted to get back to those last words.

"I realize how hard this is for you. You've killed a man, and not just any man. You've lost two brothers in a single second, but, Miss Parker, are you blaming your mother for this?"

"And why wouldn't I, hm, Jarod? If that damn voice of her, her 'gift'," she spat that word with much disdain, "would have just left us all alone, Ethan would still be alive! This would never have happened! All my life I consoled myself with the thought of having her watching out for me. I thought of her as my guardian angel. Ethan had told me the same, that he had always felt like that too. And now this! Splendid job she did as our saving angel!"

"Lyle came here because of me Parker. Because he wanted me."

"Oh I know that. And trust me, after I'm done with her, you'll be next in line! Because in the end, it will always be about you...and me. People are dying because of us Jarod!"

She was pacing up and down in front of the small grave. Jarod took in every word, his eyes filled with tears. He felt responsible for what had happened on his own, and he actually had expected her to blame it all on him. But that she would also blame her mother was almost as difficult to bear as the loss of his half brother.

And she still wasn't finished yet.

"I made mistakes, and I paid a heavy price for each and every one of them. I made sacrifices and I watched my dreams go down one by one. And whenever I tried to walk out that door, someone would just come and shut it right in my face. And I would be back at square one, back in the game they threw us into half a lifetime ago. I deserve more Jarod."

With that, she looked up at her quarry for the first time and added almost involuntarily, "We deserve more." She saw the despair and hurt she felt inside her mirrored in his eyes. She ached to touch him, to run her fingers down his cheek. She wanted to hold him. She wanted him to hold her and never let go.

Jarod decided it was enough. He would not let her go through this alone. They had been alone for too long, almost forever. Now it was enough. He grabbed her by one hand to stop her from pacing. Then he reached for her other hand and held on tightly to them. He drew her closer so that they were standing mere inches apart.

"You're right," he whispered, "we deserve more. We deserve whatever we want. I know what I want Miss Parker. Question is, what is it that you want?"

I borrowed heavily again. This time I took some of my favourites (by Bruce, who else?) and melted them together into one little speech, or plea by our pretender. I hope it works for you too.





*********************



She didn’t reply to his last question. ‘What she wanted,’ Miss Parker thought. ‘When did I ever get what I wanted?’

Yes, most of the time she got what she wanted, but rarely did she get what she really needed. She got all the material things in life. She got the people in her life to do as she demanded. And most of the time, all it took from her was a look.

But the most important things always seemed to elude her when they weren’t forcefully taken away. Like the ability to choose, like answers, like the truth, like her dreams, like love.



Those were the things she wanted, she needed. But how to express those needs, she didn’t know. Her upbringing didn’t include teaching her how to do that.



After a few more moments in silence, Jarod realized she would not answer him. Not now anyway. He’d have to give her time and they had to move.



He had called Sydney earlier. The pretender had made up a story of how Lyle had found him. He had told his former mentor that Lyle had killed Ethan and there was nothing left for him to do but shoot Lyle in return.

Sydney had been shocked at the news. The psychiatrist had given his condolences to Jarod for his loss and had been worried about how he managed the fact that he had killed a man again.

Jarod had been evasive, telling Sydney that it had happened and there was nothing to be done about it.



"Parker, we have to leave. The Centre will be up here soon to get Lyle’s corpse. Let’s just get away from here for now. We can discuss everything else later."



"You’re not saying that we should leave together, are you?" Seeing his serious expression Miss Parker scowled at him. "In about ten minutes I’ll be up and ready again, genius. Then I might be tempted to shoot you!"

"We’ll deal with your temptation when we cross that bridge. For now I’d say: let’s get the hell outta here. You’ll need to change the car anyway. You’ll get a new one somewhere down the road."



She relented, but more out of exhaustion than out of willingness. The day must have clearly clouded her mind and her judgement.



Both of them said their last goodbyes to their brother. Jarod knelt down. "Sleep well little brother," he mumbled with a choked voice and got up again.

Miss Parker ran her finger over the make-shift cross on which Jarod had carved simply Ethan’s first name one last time, looked up in the now almost dark sky and whispered into the air: "You would’ve deserved better too. I hope you find some silence now."



***************************



Sydney and Broots stood in the sim lab. Angelo was crouched in a corner, whimpering all the while. Broots was just about to ask his colleague what would happen next, when a screeching sound was unmistakably announcing the arrival of Raines.

The oxygen-tank-dragging man positioned himself in front of them. "Lyle’s body has been dealt with. With the consent of the Triumvirate I’ve put Mr. Cox in charge of the hunt. Jarod must be found. Sydney, you will tell us when he contacts you again. Mr. Broots, your post is in the tech room. You will follow the orders, or else…"

Sydney raised an eyebrow at this. "Or else?"

"People are disappearing or dying here at an unexpected rate lately. Just keep that in mind." With that, Raines turned around and left.



"Sydney, this is serious. What should we do?" Broots looked more than a little concerned.



"It’s simple. You’ll do as you are told," came from the back of the room. Cox.

The former confidant of Mr. Parker stood above the staircase leaning on the railing. With slow, deliberate steps he came down. "I have sent two sweeper teams to Arizona. I have the hunch that Jarod will take his half brother to be buried somewhere that has a connection to his family. Since he lost his other brother there, Jarod could very well show up in Arizona. What do you think Sydney?"

"It is a possibility. Jarod would not want Ethan to be alone."

"That’s what I thought. Mr. Broots, I have an additional assignment for you."

"W..w..what?"

"Parkers have been dying here a little too much lately. Mr. Raines has lost his son and his brother. He wants his daughter to be found before anything could happen to her. So, Mr. Broots you will create a search program designed to find Miss Parker."

"What do you mean?"

"Miss Parker has some very exceptional traits and habits. I don’t think she broke with them. If you come up with a search program that can filter say, for example, shopping habits, life-style traits, it will give us a chance of finding her."

"Life-style traits? What’s that supposed to mean?" Broots asked, not liking where this could go.

"Miss Parker’s penchant for exclusive clothing for example. Expensive perfume, luxurious surroundings. Things like that. You’ll be granted access to all the data base information of the American Consumer Association and all the major Credit Card Companies, as well as the newly founded Department for Homeland Security. They keep extensive information on consumer habits lately. This will be helpful. You’ll find an assistant with all further necessary information awaiting you in the tech room,"

Cox elaborated. The last comment was clearly meant as a not too subtle hint for Broots to get moving.

"I’ll be in Mr. Lyle’s former office." With that he left the two astonished colleagues alone.



"Sydney?"



"Relax Broots. I think Jarod is expecting them to show up in Arizona. This would be just too simple. And somehow I’m sure that any breadcrumbs or leads on him will come in a much less frequent manner, if at all. In the past, most of them were meant exclusively for Miss Parker. And when they weren’t, she still was the only one to read and decipher them.

But without breadcrumbs, it’s a different game. I always knew that if Jarod really wanted to, he could disappear for good."

"But what about Miss Parker? Sydney, if we have access to all this data, I think this really could work! I mean, she sure as hell wouldn’t start buying from the rack at Wal-Mart’s now. So it might work!"

"If you’re so sure about that Broots, then maybe you should do something about it."

"Huh?"

"Broots! Cox and Raines think they know Miss Parker. But I’m pretty sure that you know her a lot better. So if she usually buys Gucci, change it to D&G or the like. But change only what is not too obvious. And you could always build in a little hitch or bug into the program, one that no one but you could ever find. Know what I mean?"

"Ah, I guess I do."



"Jarod AND Miss Parker are exceptionally resourceful people. I’ve never made any predictions about what the Centre could do or not, but I am certain that now, with both of them on the other side, we will never find them."



****************************



Jarod and Miss Parker made their way back to the car and drove off.

Five hours later, around ten, they stopped at a Best Western motel and got two rooms.

None of them had said much during the ride. Both passengers were engulfed in thoughts about what had happened. Both were going through the moments after Lyle’s appearance over and over again. They pondered about what they could’ve done differently. Neither of them came to any satisfying conclusion. The past could not be changed.



Taking her keys, Miss Parker simply went ahead of Jarod and walked down the aisle to her room. At the door he stopped her.

"Are you going to be alright? I could order something for you, something to eat maybe. Or some tea."

"I’m not hungry. And the last thing I need right now is tea! But if you’re able to get me about a gallon of scotch, I’ll take it!"

"I won’t do that!"

"Yeah, that’s what I thought. Good night." She simply closed the door behind her, not looking at him anymore.

Jarod went to his own room thinking about taking a shower. He knew he would not get any sleep that night. The pain of loss was too deep. And there was also this fear lurking inside his heart. He feared she might not be there anymore in the morning. And he was not ready to let her go just like that. With new determination he delayed the shower and went to knock on her door.



"Now what?" she bellowed at him but left the door open behind her.

"It’ll just take a moment. I only want to ask you a favour, then I’ll let you rest"

"A favour. I was not aware that the two of us are at the stage of granting each other a favour!"

"Parker, what I’m asking you is that you just listen for a second and think about it. OK?"

The woman cocked her head slightly to the side, folded her hands in front of her chest and looked at him expectantly.

"You have five seconds before I come to my senses and give in to my temptation after all!"

"I want you to come with me tomorrow morning. Come with me to see Joshua, rest at our place for a few days. Give us a chance to become friends again."

He asked her once more to make a choice. Invited her once more to turn to him, to go with him. And he was scared to death of her answer.

"Listen to your heart, Miss Parker."



The woman smiled sadly. There he was, offering his hand once more.

"It’s pretty hard to listen to something that has been cold and deceiving for so long."

"It’s not that your heart has been deceiving, but the people around you have shadowed your soul, clouded your mind. It’s not your heart that has been cold but the world you grew up in and lived in for so long that has been cold."

Miss Parker had her eyes trained on the floor. She wouldn’t look at him. She couldn’t let him see how much she needed to hear those words.



During the moment of silence she went to the window and looked outside into the dark.

"You’ve asked me what I wanted."

"Yes." Jarod had walked up right behind her, his eyes focused on her.

"I want to be free; I want to make a clean break."

"I’ve tasted it. I could show you freedom."

"I want to be happy."

"I could make you smile."

"I don’t want to be alone anymore."

"Last time I checked, two people together are not alone."

"We would never be safe."



Jarod had no answer to this. He knew there was no guarantee of safety in their life as long as that dark place in Delaware had a say in it.

"Parker, don’t tell me you’re scared. You are the strongest woman, no, the strongest person that I’ve ever seen. I’ve admired that strength all my life. Whenever I’ve been on a dangerous pretend I tried to think like you. I…"

She turned around, put one hand on his shoulder and pushed him slightly backwards. Her eyes were blazing. "Did you sim me?" she asked, in a voice that told him to be careful.

"No. Even if I could have I never would’ve done it! That’s what I’m saying Parker. Not even my supposedly superior ability had been helpful with that. Your strength had helped you to get through all of this. Use this asset now Parker. But for the opposite. You need to overcome that habit of closing out everyone. There is also strength in letting people into your life not only to fight them."

He was challenging her with that, and he knew it. That was his intention. Maybe she could resist everything else, but she could never ever resist a challenge.



Miss Parker had again turned her back to him. Jarod wanted her to see it from his angle, and for that he had to tell her. But before he could say anything else, she abruptly turned around yet again, almost crashing into him in the process.

"Jarod, do you think dreams that won’t come true are just lies?"

"Parker I know that there ain’t no storybook ending, that there is rarely a happily ever after. But I’ll put my faith in you, and I believe in us."

Encouraged by the continuing silence and the slightly curious look on her face, Jarod kept on.

"Somewhere back along the line you’ve lost your love and you lost your trust in everything good. You’ve been hurt. You’ve pushed people out of your way, out of your life.

Just a few days ago you finally packed your bags and left, all alone.

You might think that you don’t need anyone by your side, but you’re walking blind like that. You can’t break the ties that bind us. You just can’t. I know what I’m talking about. Being alone, being without you I feel …"

He searched for the right words to express what he felt. "Without you I’m like an ice cream truck on a deserted street."

Amused at this expression, Miss Parker raised her eyebrows. This could only come from Jarod.

He thought about her previous question. The pretender had one more thing to say.

"I’m not fooling myself. To say I’d make your dreams come true would be a lie, but maybe, if you’d only let me, I could help them along."





End Part 12.



Yes, the ice-cream truck thingy is a direct quote. It’s from one of the most recent songs written by my hero. I saw him perform that song live with a lot of openly expressed innuendo towards his wife who was on stage as well. That line had cracked me up the first time I heard it and still makes me think of our ice-cream addicted pretender everytime I hear it!

As The Boss with all his concerts, I’ll end my little series with the title that ends all the gigs of his current tour.



Part 13 "Land of Hope and Dreams"





It was early morning. Miss Parker stood in the parking lot, car keys in hand.

They had ended up in a Motel near Albany, New York State. After their conversation at the Best Western in Maine, Jarod had retreated to his room.

He had known she needed time, and she had known she could not decide then and there whether or not to really go with him to see his family.

The next morning she had entered his car without a word. Only after twenty or so miles, she had asked him not to go straight to where his father lived. Somewhere else first. She needed that. That’s why they ended up here yesterday. Another motel in another state. Two rooms, another conversation. She had expected that.

What she hadn’t expected was what had occurred later that night. They both had felt their physical attraction during the last two days, hell, the last six years and then add twenty. There was no way to deny it. Ever so often when their eyes had met, the chemistry between them was palpable, the electricity in the air almost unbearable for both of them.



*****



Jarod had come to her room just like the night before. To make sure she was alright. Only this time, there had been a lot less conversation. After a few minutes their eyes had met, locked. Each of them was lost in the unspoken promise that their eyes had given. Seconds later their lips had met for the first time in nearly thirty years.



*****



She still stood in the parking lot, the keys in her hand. Her back was to the window, the window she knew Jarod was standing behind. He was watching her.

Miss Parker’s thoughts went back to last night.



*****



Only minutes after their lips had met, clothes were thrown in all directions. Thirty years of pent up emotions were finally acted on. Neither of them was thinking anymore, only acting. Out of passion, lust and a need to touch, to be as close as possible. Within seconds the events of the past week were omitted from their minds.

Somehow everything else was kind of a blur for her.

The next thing she remembered was that they were lying beside each other. Or rather, he was halfway lying on her. He had his head on her chest just above her breasts. Jarod’s eyes followed his own fingers that drew feather light circles on her left breast.

After a few minutes of enjoyable silence he had felt a rumble from beneath her chest. She had started to laugh.

"I always thought you liked my eyes best. Now I see I was wrong."

"Oh, I still love your eyes. Always been my favourite, always will be. Now I’ve been able to see all of you, and this close too, what can I say? I’ve decided that I like ’em too, a lot actually. As I like your belly button, your neck, your face, your arms, your butt, and of course, your legs."

With every mentioned part of her anatomy he had touched the particular part tenderly. His fingers had run from her breast down to her abdomen, back up to her neck and her cheek, just to trail down on her side again. He had slipped his hand slightly underneath her to cup her buttocks. Jarod’s hand had moved down her leg a moment later at the outside of her left thigh as far down as he could reach from his current position. He changed legs and came up at the inside of the other thigh.

"Oh, and I almost forgot another part I like a lot."

She had stopped his advance, taking his hand just before it had reached its last destination. Their fingers had entangled in what seemed to be a small wrangling fight. Both had started to laugh.



Jarod slightly pulled up on his elbow and looked down at her. "Tell me about the dream."

Miss Parker had been more than surprised at this and was certainly not willing to talk.

She had pushed him back down so that she was above him. Kissing him fiercely, her hands had been everywhere at the same time.

Not willing to be outdone, Jarod had returned the favour and soon they were lost again in a world of passion.



An hour later, both heavily breathing, they had reversed their earlier position. Now Miss Parker rested on Jarod’s chest. After catching his breath he had tried again to get her to talk.

"I had been dreaming about you for decades. Will you tell me about your dreams when I tell you about mine first?"

"If it makes you feel any better, but I ain’t promising anything," she had answered with a smirk.



"When you came down as a child into the sim lab, your smile had me dreaming for days. Your smile brought a light into my life. A light that nothing in that place could dim. The night you gave me that kiss was the first night ever that I had slept in the Centre without any nightmare. I had slept peacefully, even happily and with a smile on my face."

Miss Parker had remembered the words he had written years ago in that stupid, cheesy and very sad novel he had left for her.

Jarod had continued, still looking into her eyes.

"You were my light. All those years, pictures of horror would be on my mind, would enter my dreams. But all those pictures could never totally eclipse the light you had brought to me.

About eight years later, you were long gone, I had to do some work for Sydney. It was nothing drastic, just a calculation on temporal physics that I was allowed to do in his office rather than the sim lab. I sat at his desk. Sydney was engulfed in one of those scientific journals on the couch. I had finished the job rather quickly, and he hadn’t realized it. Not wanting to interrupt his reading, I got bored and looked around at his desk. I looked at all the things there when I saw a piece of paper folded in the middle. It was one of those nice coloured hard paper that people use for invitations and the like. You know, what people send for their wedding announcements or something?"



Miss Parker nodded in understanding. "It piqued your interest. So what was it?"

"I didn’t want to pry into Sydney’s private things, but it was this colour that drew me to it. The card was not folded completely. The cover page was slightly up, so I could turn it up with only one little finger without making a too obvious move. The colour, you know, was this incredible grey-blue that reminded me of something."

With that he had looked straight into her eyes before he continued, tears already building up in his own.

"Then I saw it. I looked straight into the grey-blue orbs that were the reason for all the light in my life. It was a picture of your graduation. You had this beautiful blue dress on, looked incredible. Of course I immediately recognized you, and that picture had me dream about you that night, and the following ones."



"I didn’t even know Sydney had a picture of it. That old sentimental bastard," she had said with all the affection she felt for her former colleague. "So about your dream?"



Now it had been Jarod’s turn to get slightly evasive. "As I said, I had dreams about you pretty regularly, only this time they had gotten, well... different."

Even though it was dark in the room, Miss Parker could see that he had blushed slightly. A broad, full scale smile had appeared on her face. "Are you telling me that this one was of an ‘adult’ content?"



Jarod’s face had been of a colour that almost lit the room. He had made a futile effort to cover his embarrassment. "What can I say, I was twenty."

"Details, lab rat, I want details!"

"Suffice it to say, that only a few hours ago, reality had not only been fulfilled but definitely surpassed any possible dream."



Jarod had grabbed her again and had kissed her with such emotion, affection and raw need, that they soon had been lost in what only could be described as two lovers in their most passionate moments.

Later they both had fallen asleep in each others arms. Only days before, that had been one of her lost dreams in her life. Waking up, Miss Parker had taken one last look at Jarod. She had gotten out of bed, grabbed her things and his keys.

That had been it. That was the end. Closure. For both of them.



*****



She still stood in the parking lot. Miss Parker knew that he was watching her. She’d actually expected him to come out and stop her. But he didn’t.

It was her choice.

She knew that this night had been more than just a ‘roll in the hay’; that it had been more than just her way of coming to terms with the events. That’s what she was actually trying to tell herself: last night had just been closure, closure to thirty years of history.

But it was a futile effort.

It marked a new beginning. She had a choice. He had offered it to her.

Again she looked at the keys in her hand. She saw the car in front of her, waiting for anyone to get in to drive off.

The last ten years passed in front of her eyes. Her mind wandered to the last five years of hunting, the last five days of hiding and the last day of finally having found what she always had been dreaming about.

Another look at the keys and the car, then she made her decision. Her choice. Her dream.

He was still at the window. She felt it.



Miss Parker made her decision. She put the keys back into her pocket, turned around and went back to the room he was waiting in.





THE END!



__________________________________

Last words in ‘Oscar’-mode:

Another BIG thanks to my still unnamed beta-angel, who kept with me despite this neck breaking speed. She corrected my grammar/spelling and offered helpful advice.

However, I am solely to be blamed for any problems you might have encountered with e.g. continuity. My own limited vocabulary is something that bothered me throughout the time! Describing certain pictures in my head are difficult when all I can come up with is ‘she said, he stood, she looked’, you know what I mean?

I have borrowed like hell during this little journey into TV-land. Wherever I did it consciously, I have referred to it. In my understanding, that’s perfectly legal. Hey, I do that all the time in my thesis. As long as I give references it’s absolutely OK.

This had been my first, and though it had been fun, I’m not sure I will be able to come up with a fictional story again, since I probably drained every single bit out of my brain for this one. But hey, I wrote that in not more than two weeks. No wonder I feel completely drained.



Thanx, JerseyGirl!