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Jarod ran up the last three steps to his door. He had been jogging in the park, like he had been every morning for the last five weeks. He passed the hall of the apartment building and instead of taking the elevator, he ran up the stairs. He was sweating profusely but was not completely out of breath. He was in excellent shape. At his door he had to fumble a few seconds to produce the keys out of his shorts.



The morning paper was still on his doorstep. While trying to put the keys into the hole, he bent down to retrieve the papers. He heard an approving sigh behind him. Sylvia, his neighbor, stood in her door.



She leaned against the doorframe and glanced up and down his incredibly well shaped body. This man was a sight for sore eyes. The T-shirt clinged to his sweating torso, accentuating every muscle. His legs were tanned and strong, covered by a sheet of sweat. And, she concluded, he had the cutest tight ass in the world. She could not contain a lustful smile that clearly read ‘I wanna get my hands on this fine piece!’



“Good morning Sylvia, how are you?”



”Morning Jarod, I’m fine, just fine. How was the run?”



“Great, it’s a great day for a morning run.”



“I bet. It just occurred to me, my shift doesn’t start until noon. Want to come over and have breakfast with me?”



”Ah, well, ah. Thank you, but I think I’ll have a shower. And, well it would be nice but I need to run some errands this morning. Maybe another day?”



“Sure. Anytime Jarod, anytime.”



With a slightly disappointed face she closed her door and Jarod could finally enter his own apartment. Sylvia was nice and – he had to admit very attractive – but her greedy looks somehow frightened him. He was not sure if he should get involved with her more. They were just neighbors, occasionally exchanging small talk in the hall. She had been inviting him over for four weeks now, and was definitely interested in him. Maybe he should accept one of her invitations, it couldn’t do any harm, could it?



Jarod entered his bathroom and got ready for a long hot shower. The apartment was perfect, he loved it there. A friend he had helped on a previous pretend had offered it to him. Carl actually lived in Washington D.C., he had kept this place just out of convenience for any time he needed a place in New York City. He rarely did, but he was very well off and money didn’t matter in his case. Jarod could use this place for as long as he wanted and it had been more than a month now and he was in no hurry to leave.



He enjoyed the normalcy of living at one place enormously. He knew it was pretty dangerous to stay in one city too long, for the Centre was still after him. But for the moment Jarod just wanted some place that felt like ‘home’. And what better place to hide than in NYC?



The pretender had gone out of his way to come up with various false leads that would keep the Centre bounty hunters busy for another few weeks. He had every intention of staying just a bit longer. His longing for a ‘home’, for an every-day-routine, for living just like everybody else, was overwhelming him at the moment.



His thoughts went back two weeks. He had taken a two-day trip to Chicago to make a planned ‘appearance’ just to keep the Centre on their toes. He had been surprised there; not the usual suspects came after him in Chicago. The expected crew of two or three sweepers in tow of his most persistent pursuers had not shown up. No Sydney, no Broots and no Miss Parker. The only similarity to other pursuits, had been the fact that the team was led by a woman. Jarod had to admit she was good looking. Tall and great legs, but nothing to the huntress he was so used to.



As soon as he had taken in the situation, Jarod’s confidence to delude the team had grown infinitely. Compared to the expected team, this one would be child’s play.



This lady might try hard to imitate the Centre’s Number One in regards of her appearance and demeanor, but she had nothing but an ‘intimidation-lite’ factor to provide. Rather than ram spikes into the back of his head with a sheer look, this one could not even make him frown or raise a single hair in his neck.



This sweeper team never had a real chance at getting to him. The important thing though was, that the Centre still believed he changed his lairs every few days and he was playing the ‘game’.



Most of the time he deluded them from his apartment back in New York. He had enough fake phone connections wired up, enough old friends placed around the US as well as in other countries, to stay invisible for the time being. The preparations had taken him quite some time but, after Carthis he really dived into this task just to buy himself some ‘time off’ so to speak.



That’s why he was here now. Just the feeling of getting ‘home’ every day for a few weeks felt so good. So satisfying, so exciting.

Other people might get excited at the prospect of a trip, a holiday or moving out of one place to find a new place to live.



Jarod had felt like a child at Christmas Morning when he had bought himself some nails, bolts and a simple bookshelf at a hardware store. It had not been necessary, he simply wanted to know what it would be like to buy something to decorate a home.



The very next day Jarod had called Carl and asked him if it would be ok if he’d do some refurnishing and some home repair jobs.



He had offered his friend money in compensation for anything that Carl wouldn’t like, but his friend wouldn’t hear any of it. Carl simply told Jarod to go for it and that he had confidence in all the pretender’s choices.





For three weeks now Jarod had bought more furniture and appliances he needed. He got wallpapers as well as paint, and pictures in every size and style. He wanted to try it all out. Everything that he regarded as not really fitting after a few hours or days, found its way to a local charity organization. It was simply the task of ‘building’ himself a home just the way every other person in the world would, after moving into a new place. He hadn’t felt that good in a long time. He almost felt guilty when a thought occurred to him: this little endeavor boosted his spirit more than most of his successful pretends had.



Jarod exited the bathroom with a cloud of steam in his wake. He was clad in a pair of boxer shorts and a towel tangling around his neck. Feeling relaxed and good natured he entered the kitchen to grab a doughnut and a carton of orange juice. The pretender settled down on the newly acquired kitchen table, grabbed his laptop and dialed in. His daily check of mails was first on his list after the run.



The moment Jarod opened his account the broadest grin appeared on his face. After days of waiting, finally a message by his father. While Jarod stayed in New York, his father, sister and clone were still traveling; always searching for his mother. He had looked forward to hear from his Dad, but by no means was he prepared to read what appeared next on his screen:



‘Let’s have a little reunion, it’s about time.

Love, Dad’



Jarod’s emotions ran amok at this. While he felt like he was frozen still, his hands started to tremble uncontrollably. Those were the words they had agreed on in case either of them would finally find Margaret.



After a few breathing exercises he forced himself to concentrate on what to do first. Texas, he had to get to Houston immediately.



Just as Jarod wanted to disconnect from the net, the ‘You got mail’ sign popped up again. With a surprised frown he clicked on the inbox-icon. He anxiously hoped that it was not another message from his father, one that would tell him that everything had been a mistake.



After another second his worry proved to be unfounded. It was a message sent by Angelo. He briefly pondered to leave it unopened and get going, only to discard the idea quickly. His empathic friend at the Centre only contacted him with important information. This wouldn’t be any different.



Jarod opened the particular message, it contained one line of text and a rather large video file in the attachment. The text read: “Angelo just found. Jarod must see”



Damn, Jarod thought. I don’t know if I want to see this now.

He started to download the file while reaching for his cellphone with his other hand. He needed to book a flight, he needed to pack his few belongings, he needed to ask Gloria to take care of his plants. No, skip the last one, there was no time for that.



He left leg was constantly tapping on the floor, he was unable to contain his nervousness.

Finally the download was complete. He pressed ‘open file’ and waited for the clip to start. The screen became dark. In the upper left corner the time and date appeared. It was the day Jarod had confronted the pretender-gone-sociopath Alex on the docks. That happened two years ago, when Alex had fallen and disappeared. On the same day Miss Parker and Jarod had anonymously been sent a picture with both of their mothers on it.



The clip on his monitor showed Mr. Raines in a wheelchair in front of a computer. He was in a barely lit room, very sterile surroundings. He was probably somewhere in the Centre. Clearly visible, Mr. Raines clicked on ‘Send’, turned to the computer scanner on the left and retrieved what he apparently had just mailed.



Jarod couldn’t believe his eyes. Raines looked once more at the picture. It was the very same picture Miss Parker and the pretender had received on that fateful day: a close-up shot of Catherine Parker and his mother. And then Raines disconnected his computer and uttered “Godspeed my children.”



Jarod was beyond confused. Raines had sent that photo? Why? What does that mean? Does it mean anything at all after two years? And what the hell did he mean with his last words?



But he had no time to think all this at the moment. He needed to catch a plane. His family was waiting. His mother was awaiting him in Houston.









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