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Title - Rusty Armor
Rating - PG-13 for some violence
Category/Keywords - JOR, JMPF/R, MPBF
Summary - Miss Parker has a stalker who kidnaps Debbie; Jarod helps her and Broots get the girl back.
Disclaimer - You all know the drill. These characters don't belong to me. I actually don't think they belong to anyone, but far be it for me to claim them this late in the game. I'm just 'borrowing' them.


Rusty Armor
by Nicky



* * * * * * * * * *
Prologue
* * * * * * * * * *


It doesn't take long for her to stop struggling. But he holds her under the water for a bit longer anyway. Lifting the lifeless form from the tub, he lays her on the bathroom floor and just stares. He was sure she was the one. He searched long and hard for her hoping she would be the one to rescue him from his despair. He gave her several chances, but in the end she was just like the others. They all were unwilling to do what he wanted and ungrateful at the opportunity he was giving them. Like the others, she turned out to be less than worthy. Next time, he promises himself. Next time he'll find the right one.

* * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 1
* * * * * * * * * *


Another car drives past, but it's not the one she's looking for. Glancing down at her watch again, she turns when she hears her name being called.

"Debbie. What are you still doing out here?"

"Oh, hi Mr. Webster," Debbie Broots calls cheerfully to her English teacher as he exits the school building. "I'm just waiting on my ride." Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the black sports car pull up to curb and it's passenger step out. "Actually, there she is now."

"Debbie, I am so sorry," the woman apologizes, slightly out of breath from the brisk walk from the car to the building. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Not too long. Besides, I had some company," Debbie says with a smile towards her teacher. Mr. Webster was one of the favorite teachers at Oak Hills Middle School. He used to be very popular with the students up until recently when his wife and daughter died. After that tragedy, he just wasn't the same exuberant man that captured the hearts and minds of his students. He wasn't a bad looking guy, actually, and Debbie suddenly wondered to herself if her friend was just the person to help him get back to his old self. She decides to introduce them and see if any sparks fly. "This is my English teacher, Mr. Webster."

"Nice to meet you," the woman smiles, offering her hand to the man to shake.

"Nice meeting you too, Mrs. Broots."

"Actually, it's Parker. *Miss* Parker." She offers another coy smile, inwardly pleased with herself when the man's cheeks color slightly. It was always an ego boost to send a man's pulse racing whether it be from embarrassment or excitement.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed . . . I mean, Debbie's been talking about how she spends the weekends with her mom . . . I guess I just . . .," the man stutters before dropping his eyes to the ground.

"That's alright, Mr. Webster," she assures. She gives Debbie a scolding glance before continuing, but she neither corrects nor refutes the man's error. "Debbie's father and I aren't married."

"Okay, Mr. Webster, we're going to go now. I'll see you on Monday," Debbie says quickly, grabbing Miss Parker's hand and pulling her to the car. Once inside, she lets out a sigh of relief, but refuses to meet Miss Parker's glare.

"What was that all about, Debbie?" Miss Parker asks after carefully pulling out into traffic.

"What was *what* all about?" Debbie asks innocently. One look at Miss Parker and she sees the woman is not buying her act.

"You tell people that I'm your mother?" Her tone is a little harsher than she intended and she sees Debbie cower in the seat.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind. Considering the alternative, I *wish* you were my mother. You're more of a mother than Janice Broots ever was. Did you know that she hasn't once, in over two years, even asked to see me. And here you are, letting me stay with you every weekend for the past 3 months. But if it bothers you . . . "

"It's not that," Miss Parker interrupts the girl, suddenly feeling very guilty. "I don't mind what you've been telling your friends. I didn't mean to make such a big deal . . . " Miss Parker stops midsentence, staring in disbelief at the grin spreading across Debbie's face. "You little sneak!"

"What?" she laughs. "I learned from the master."

"I'm sure manipulation isn't something your dad will be pleased I taught you," Miss Parker laughs too. "I can't believe I fell for that little act of yours. That little pout you do is very effective. You had me thinking I had really hurt your feelings. I hope you know that's the last thing I want to do. You're kind of growing on me, kid. And I'd actually be proud to call you my daughter." She looks over to make sure Debbie knew she was serious.

"I know. And I love you too . . . Mom." Debbie smiles at her and takes her hand, holding it tightly in her own until they get home.

* * * * * * * * * *

Monday morning

Miss Parker storms down the halls of the Centre, trying to quickly make it to her office without running anyone over. She was a little late for a meeting with Broots and Sydney and had to hurry. An unexpected delivery had delayed her this morning. She balances said gift and her coffee in one hand while she opens the door to her office with the other. Both Broots and Sydney are already there waiting on her.

"Broots. Sydney. Sorry I'm late. Let's get this meeting started." She tosses the package she was carrying across the desk to Broots' unexpecting hands. He fumbles it and apologizes softly when he drops it.

"What's this?" he asks her. He looks at her questioningly and gets her nod of silent approval to open it.

"A little gift from Jarod, I assume. Check it out and see if he's trying to drop us a clue about something."

"Lingerie?" Broots asks, his hands shaking from embarrassment holding the sexy garment. "Isn't this a bit . . . personal to be from Jarod?"

"Maybe you have a secret admirer," Sydney suggests.

"I don't know," she says, nibbling lightly on her lip. She initially thought the same thing as Broots. But since she can't think of where else it might have come from, she convinced herself it was from Jarod. "Check it out anyway, Broots. Maybe Wonderboy is just trying to be funny."

"I'll get right on it," Broots says, standing to leave. He follows Sydney to the door of the office before suddenly turning back again. "By the way, thanks again for having Debbie this weekend. She loves visiting with you."

"I love having her, Broots," she says, her face breaking out in an easy smile when talking about the girl. "She's a good kid."

"She's almost 13, you know. And she needs a woman's influence in her life. I try as hard as I can, but I just can't be all that she needs. I'm glad she has you. She wasn't any trouble, was she?"

"Not even a little," she assures him. "I told you, I love having her. Although . . . " she smiles suddenly.

"Although, what?" Broots cringes, afraid of knowing what the two of them were up to. That first time Debbie stayed with Miss Parker almost gave him a heart attack when the two of them ended up with matching outfits.

"Oh, don't have stroke, Broots," she laughs when she notices his expression. "We didn't get matching tattoos or anything like that. It's just this time, I have the impression that Debbie was trying to play matchmaker. I think she's trying to hook me up with her English teacher."

"You met Mr. Webster? He's a nice guy. He's had a tough year, though. He just lost his entire family. Wife and daughter killed in a car accident. It was a drunk driver, I think."

"That's terrible," she sympathizes. "But he's not exactly my type. So please tell Debbie not to pursue it, okay?"

"No problem," Broots says, trying to hide his relieved grin. It's not like he had a chance with her himself, but he didn't want to even think about her dating another man. It was hard enough to pretend he was happy for her when Thomas was around. He'd hate to have to go through that again if she had decided to date Mr. Webster. With one last smile, he lets himself out of her office before releasing a wistful sigh. Maybe one day, he says to himself. Maybe one day she'll realize just what he means to her.

* * * * * * * * * *

The blindfold covers her eyes and she can't see where she's going. She just has to trust him to lead her to their destination.

"No peeking," he instructs.

"How can I, Jarod? You have this blindfold over my eyes. I can't see a thing," she whines. "Where are we anyway? You've had my eyes covered since we entered Delaware."

"We're almost there, Zoë. Just a few more steps." He stops for a second and she can hear a door opening. A moment later, she's led into a room that smells like fresh paint and new furniture. "You ready?"

"Jarod, I can't wait another second!" she squeals, giggling like a small child on Christmas morning.

"Okay, here we are." He pulls the blindfold off and then wraps his arms around her waist. "Welcome home. For now, anyway."

"Jarod! It's gorgeous. Where are we *this* week?"

"Delaware. Between Dover and Blue Cove," he explains.

"I love it," she says, turning around in his embrace and pulling him closer for a kiss. "Is it as secluded as the other places?"

"Yeah. It should be nice and quiet here. I think we might stay awhile," he adds, kissing her back.

"You mean we might settle down? Maybe get married and have some kids?" she asks hopefully.

"Uhm . . . well, I . . . " he stutters, pulling out of her arms and turning away from her.

"Don't give me that, Jarod! How about I let you explain to my grandmother why you're forcing me to live in sin with you. Why can't you just make an honest woman out of me? Is that really too much to ask?"

"Zoë, we just got here. Why don't we get settled and then talk about this later?" he suggests.

"That's what you always say. And when we get settled, you always have to go away and work. Or we always have to move. I'm tired of moving, Jarod. Which is why we're not going anywhere until you answer me one question. Do you love me?"

"You know I can't answer that, Zoë."

"How did I know you were going to say that?" she laughs, but with no hint of joy in her voice. "You pretend that you had this tragic start in life that prevents you from being able to love someone. But I think the truth is that you just can't love me. And it doesn't have anything to do with that place you grew up."

"Zoë, the Centre has everything to do with how I can or can't feel right now." Or more like someone at the Centre, but he doesn't want to go there with her right now. Or ever for that matter. "But let me tell you this one thing. I haven't had a lot of things to bring me pure joy. Being with you is like that for me - pure joy. You make me happy. And I do everything in my power to make you happy. That's all I can offer right now." He opens his arms and takes a tentative step towards her. A grateful sigh escapes his lips when she allows herself to be embraced by this. That was close. The next time he might not be so lucky. One of these days, she's going to ask the right question. One of these days, she's going to stop asking *what's* stopping him from loving her and start asking *who's* the woman who owns his heart.

* * * * * * * * * *

Three weeks later

Debbie finishes scribbling the answers to the English test and is the first to turn it in. It was almost too easy. Definitely not worth all the time she spent studying. She hands the test in to Mr. Webster and nervously watches as he gives it a once over. She may be confident, but she wasn't cocky. She knew there was still room for error.

"Debbie, can I speak with you outside?" he asks once he sets the paper back on his desk.

She nods her head, unable to speak. She was sure the entire class could hear her heart pounding in her chest. What could he want? He couldn't possibly think that she cheated. She walks on wobbly knees to the door and follows her teacher out into the hall.

"What's up?" she manages to squeak out with a voice filled with more bravery than she actually had. But she couldn't hide the look of worry from her face.

"Oh, it's nothing to be afraid of," he chuckles, finally noticing the girl's apprehension. "I just was curious about your mom. Will she be here to pick you up this afternoon?"

"Actually, not today. She had an appointment. So my dad's going to pick me up and drop me off over there." She looks at him kind of strangely, wondering if that's all he really wanted to know. "Was that all, Mr. Webster? You wanted to make sure I was getting home safely?"

"Yeah. I mean no. I mean, yes your safety is important. But no, that's not all I wanted." He takes a deep breath and starts pacing before continuing. "Your mother. She's a very attractive woman, as I'm sure you know. And I noticed that she's single. I was just wondering . . . "

"Mr. Webster, do you want to ask my mom out?" Debbie asks, trying desperately to hold back the big grin trying to crack her face. She knew he'd be interested in Miss Parker that first day she introduced them. Too bad Miss Parker didn't return the feelings. Debbie had gotten a lecture about the whole match-making scheme from her dad the week before.

"Well, I was just wondering if you think she'd say yes," he tells her nervously.

"You're a great guy, Mr. Webster. And I'm sure my mom would love to go out with you. It's just . . . " She pauses to try to come up with an easy way to let him down. She almost laughs at the irony. She's never even had her own boyfriend, and here she is trying to dump one for Miss Parker.

"Well, here's the thing. Her and my dad have been thinking about getting back together." She crosses her fingers behind her back and prays that this little lie is forgiven.

"Oh. Well, I can understand that. Thanks for your time, Debbie. You can go back in class now." Immediately, his countenance falls. The confidence he seemed to just be getting back was now nonexistent. He drags himself back into the classroom and falls wearily into his chair, slouching bonelessly behind the desk.

The look on his face breaks her heart. The poor guy was trying to get back into the dating game and got shot down on his first try. But, he's a nice guy. And she knows that he'll find the right woman for him one day. She just hopes he believes it too.

* * * * * * * * * *

Miss Parker stares at the latest gift on her coffee table. It was waiting on her porch when she got home from her appointment that afternoon. The box was like the others, beautifully wrapped with carefully hand tied bows. The contents were also similar - more underwear. In the past three weeks since the first incident, she's gotten several negligees in varying colors and varying degrees of sexiness. This last gift, however, was by far the most disturbing. This one left her shaking and almost on the verge of tears. A scratching at her front door startles her, and she reaches behind her for her gun.

"Who is it?" she asks after she's regained some composure, her shaking hand grasping the cold metal of her weapon.

"It's just me and Dad," Debbie calls out. The girl finally works the key in the lock and pushes the door open. She walks in and notices the upset Miss Parker across the room. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Miss Parker lies, pulling the girl into a hug. She had forgotten that it was Friday night and that Broots was bringing Debbie. She pastes on a phony smile so she won't further alarm the girl. "Nothing a night with my baby girl won't fix."

"I'm not a baby. I'm almost a woman," Debbie insists with a girlish giggle.

"Well, you'll always be my baby. I don't care how old you are." She gives the girl one more hug before turning her in the direction of the stairs. "Why don't you go put your stuff up. I need to speak with your father for a few minutes."

The adults watch Debbie bound up the stairs to what has become her room. When they're sure she's out of earshot, Broots begins his own round of questions.

"So, what's really wrong, Miss Parker? You look upset."

"I got another gift today." She sits down and nods towards the box on the coffee table. He silently lifts the lid and peeks inside.

"More lingerie?"

"Yeah," she nods. "But this time, I think this guy is really trying to tell me something."

Broots lifts out the garment and gasps at its condition. The negligee was ripped to shreds and there was what appeared to be blood splattered on the area that would cover the heart.

"This guy, whoever it is, is insane. You still don't think this is Jarod, do you?" he asks her, putting the ruined garment back into the box.

"No," she shakes her head vehemently. "And to be honest with you, I don't think I ever really thought he was behind this. I just hoped he was. I can deal with Jarod and his games. But this guy . . . I don't know what I'm up against. And this last gift . . . I think he's gone off the deep end."

"Well, this present is obviously sending some kind of message. What do you think he wants with you?"

"I don't know," she sighs. "But I'm afraid to find out."

Broots stares at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. He never thought he'd see the day when Miss Parker would admit to being afraid of something. This guy has really gotten to her.

"Listen, I know that I just came to drop Debbie off. And I know I'm not much in way of protection. But I'd feel better if someone were here with you two. How about I stay here with you girls tonight?" he offers.

"Thank you," she whispers. "I'd appreciate that." She covers his hand with her own and gives it a gentle squeeze before rising from the couch. "I'll go get you some blankets."

Broots watches the woman as she busies herself around the house, trying to make him comfortable. She constantly amazed him. At the Centre, she was unyielding and tough. But at her home, he can see a kinder, gentler Miss Parker emerging. He sees the woman who's become a mother to his daughter. And a woman who's allowing him to flex his macho muscles and play her protector.

"Will this be alright?" she asks, placing the pillow and blankets next to him.

"Fine," he says, shaking himself from his wandering thoughts.

"Okay, then. Debbie and I are going to hang out upstairs before going to bed. So, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Miss Parker."

She sits for a minute and debates with herself before placing a kiss on his cheek.

"You're a good friend, Broots. And I'm glad you're here."

She smiles at him before heading up the stairs, leaving him a gasping mess on the couch. He touches his cheek with his hand and closes his eyes, remembering the feeling of her lips on him. Sleep comes easy to him, his dreams filled with images of Miss Parker.

* * * * * * * * * *

He flips angrily through the photos, hoping his eyes were initially playing tricks on him. But the pictures don't lie. They paint the portrait quite clearly, actually. Once again, he's picked the wrong one. It was obvious with her betrayal. She allowed another man into her house and even kissed him. But he slept on the couch, so maybe there was hope for her. She wasn't quite the lost cause yet. She just needed the right motivation to see that he was the one for her, not that spineless weakling sleeping on her sofa.

He flips to the next picture in the set when he's hit with sudden inspiration. Staring at the picture in his hand, a joyous laughter erupts from his core. In his hands, he held the motivation she would need. This is what she couldn't resist. This is what her little boyfriend had that he didn't. Once he acquired this prize, she would be his. She'd belong to him forever.

* * * * * * * * * *

Monday afternoon

Broots watches Miss Parker nervously pace the floor. She seems to be distracted today. There haven't been any of the usual insults she tosses his way. There haven't been any demands for Jarod's location. She was just there in body, not in spirit. Broots just assumes it has something to do with the strange gifts she'd been getting. They were freaking her out. She even allowed Broots to spend the weekend at her place, sleeping on the couch, of course. That was huge for her, admitting that she needed help or maybe even some comfort.

"You okay?" he asks her finally, tiring of her pacing. She doesn't answer and he has to call her a few times to get her attention.

"What?" she asks.

"I asked if you were okay. You seem to be a million miles away."

"Parker, is it the gifts?" Sydney asks. "Broots said that the last one seemed to indicate your admirer's violent tendencies."

"Yes. No. I don't know. The other gifts were kind of freaky, but harmless. This last one, though. Something set this guy off. Something I did or said. But I don't know what that could have been. I don't even know who this guy is, but he apparently knows who I am. He knows where I live. He probably watches me."

"A stalker," Sydney concludes. "You have to think, Parker. What have you done between these last two gifts? Who have you encountered, even in the smallest way? This guy isn't of the soundest of minds. Any little thing could have set him off."

"That's just it, Syd. How will I know what's going to set him off? What if he hurts someone I care about? Debbie is always at my house. What if something happens to her. Broots, he probably knows who you are and . . ." She stops suddenly, her hand flying to her mouth and her eyes widening in fear.

"What?" Sydney and Broots ask in unison.

"Debbie," she says, her voice beginning to quiver. "We have to get to her. Broots, you stayed all weekend at my house. I'm sure my stalker didn't enjoy that one bit."

"You think he knows? You think he'll hurt her?" Broots fears.

"Or you. And I don't want to take that chance with either of you," she says quietly. "Anyone in my life, no matter how innocent the relationship, is at risk. Can we please just go pick up Debbie early from school so that I can see with my own eyes that she's okay?"

"Okay," he agrees, grabbing his keys.

"I'll drive. We'll get there faster." She picks up her phone and calls for Sam. After giving him a few instructions, she hangs up and faces the two men in front of her. "Syd, you stay here and cover for us. Broots, Sam's going to drive your car so that you can ride with me."

With those last words, she flies out of the office. Broots has to run to keep up with her long strides down the hall. He was starting to get really afraid now. There was more going on here than just precaution. Something was wrong. Miss Parker could feel it and now, so could he. Hopefully whatever the threat, Debbie was from it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Debbie pulls the note out of her locker with a shaky hand. It was from Adam. An eighth grader and the cutest boy in the entire school. All the girls had a crush on him, so it was a bit surprising to find him writing to her. She turns it around in her hand a few times before finally tossing it to her friend.

"I can't read it, Gracie. You do it," she orders the girl.

"Debbie! This is a note from Adam Ballston. I can't read it either. It's probably a love letter," Gracie giggles.

"Give it here," Debbie sighs, taking the letter back from her friend. She opens it up and reads the short message, a big smile spreading across her face.

"Well?" Gracie asks. "What does it say? Does he love you? Want to marry you?"

"Not quite," she laughs, rolling her eyes at how much of a spazz her friend could be. "But he said that he thinks I'm cute and to meet him behind the school during study hall."

"That's like right now. Are you going to go?"

"Duh, this is Adam Ballston we're talking about! Of course I'm going. But you have to cover for me, okay? That is if Mrs. Pierce even notices I'm not there."

"No problem," Gracie smiles, gently pushing Debbie towards the doors. "Have fun. But not too much fun." She adds. But it's too late. The girl was already out the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Debbie steps out, looking left and right and seeing no one. She walks out a little still searching for him.

"Adam?" she calls out. "Are you out here?"

She only waits a few moments, afraid that this was all just a set up. He probably slipped the note in the wrong locker. And here she was out here thinking he really wanted to meet with her. She needed to leave before things got really embarrassing. Turning on her heel and reaching for the door, she's frustrated to discover that it's locked.

"Great," she sighs. Now she was going to have to go all the around the front of the building and risk getting caught. She tries to door again, hoping this time it will open, but it doesn't. In the window, she sees someone approaching from down the hall. She taps on the door to get their attention. She doesn't realize until too late that the approaching figure was a reflection. And that it was coming up behind her. She turns around just in time to see a glove covered hand descend upon her face. It was the last thing she saw before the darkness took over.

* * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 2
* * * * * * * * * *


An eerie silence follows Miss Parker and Broots into the house as they enter in shock, unsure of what to do next.

"She's really gone," Broots says incredulously, allowing his weak legs to finally fall from under him just as they step through the door.

They had checked with the school and learned that Debbie never showed up to study hall. They questioned her friend Grace and learned of the supposed meeting behind the school with the boy Adam. They questioned Adam and learned that he neither sent the note, nor knew of a Debbie Broots. They checked Broots’ house, They checked Miss Parker's, but the girl was no where to be found.

"Where could she be?" Broots wonders aloud. His tears are falling now. Hot and desperate tears of an angry and worried father.

"We'll find her. Call your house again, Broots. Maybe we just missed her," Miss Parker suggests hopefully. But deep down, she knows that's not going to be the case. All day, she had had a terrible feeling that something bad was going to happen. Unfortunately, this was that bad thing.

"Anything?" she asks him when he hangs up the phone. His face seemed even paler than before, if that's even possible.

"No," he shakes his head. "But there was a message from the Delaware Highway Patrol. There's been an accident."

"Debbie?" she gasps.

"My car. Sam," he says with some confusion. "According to witnesses, he was out on highway 47 and it's like he just lost control of the car. It appears my brake line had been tampered with. But who? How? Miss Parker, you don't think . . . "

"I think he was trying to get you out of the way. And I think now, he has Debbie," she tells him bluntly. She lets out a deep breath she didn't even realize she was holding and sinks onto the couch, covering her face with her hands. This situation has gotten completely out of hand. Now, this man, whoever his is, is hurting her friends. He's got to be stopped. Poor Sam was just in the wrong place at they wrong time. "How's Sam?"

"They took him to the hospital. That's all I know," Broots tells her.

"This is unbelievable," she moans. "I have my very own stalker trying to kill off all my friends. What else could go wrong?"

The telephone ringing cuts off her tirade.

"Wonderful. I can only guess who that is, based on how the rest of this day has gone." She rolls her eyes and clicks on the speaker phone, growling at her caller. "What do you want, Jarod?"

"What, are you turning psychic now, Miss Parker," he says with an amused tone in his voice that only sets her off.

"Jarod, I don't have time for your games today. Unless you can help me, then I suggest you just leave me alone right now." She's about to hang up the phone when she hears him quickly say something to stop her.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with your new neighbor who seems awfully interested in your house, does it?"

"What do you know about that?" she snaps. "Jarod, if this is all part of some sick . . ."

"Parker, what's going on?" he asks, concern suddenly filling his voice when he realizes that there's something really wrong. "I was going to drop off a little surprise for you, but I saw that someone was keeping an eye on the place. He didn't see me, but I could see him. It looked like he was putting something in your mailbox."

"Jarod, you seemed to have dropped off our radar for the past few months. No sightings, no contact. Nothing. Where have you been?" she asks him. Not with malice or in an attempt to find out his location. But to put her mind at rest that he wasn't her stalker. She motions silently for Broots to go check the mail, while waiting on Jarod's answer.

"No place in particular. Just doing some traveling with a friend," he admits. "Why?"

"I've been getting some gifts," she sighs, deciding to believe him. "Someone tried to kill Broots. And someone has Debbie. We think it's the same guy. Possibly this guy you saw today."

"What! Parker, how long has this been going on?"

"A few weeks. It started off pretty harmless. But he's escalated in the past few days. I think I made him angry."

"You called the cops?"

"No cops," Broots says as he runs back into the house, panting desperately for air. He passes what he found in the mailbox over to Miss Parker's eager hands.

"We can't call the cops," she repeats, barely able to hold back her own tears now. She looks down at the package Broots gave her. It was a picture of Debbie. Tied up and unconscious. Attached to the photo was a note warning them not to get the cops involved. "This freak has her, Jarod. What do we do now?" Her mind is a jumble and she can't think clearly. She has to focus on the sound of Jarod's voice coming through the phone to keep from hyperventilating.

"Calm down, Miss Parker. Just listen to me," Jarod's soothing voice says to her. "You've got to get out of there. This guy is watching you. You have to leave there so that we can come up with a plan to get Debbie back without him finding out."

"We?" she mutters weakly.

"Yes, we. I won't let you do this alone anymore, Parker. My latest lair is close. Just about 20 minutes away. I want you and Broots to meet me at that gas station you usually go to. Make sure you're not followed. I'll be in the back waiting." The loud click lets them know Jarod is gone. Miss Parker looks again at the picture in her hand and silently apologizes to the girl for the mess she's in now.

"You think we can trust him?" Broots asks warily.

"I know we can," she says with a smile. "Jarod won't let us down. He never has before."

* * * * * * * * * *

Debbie fights against the darkness and tries to open her eyes. A stream of light invades her sight and sends a sharp pain to her head. She tries to suck in a quick gasp of air when the pain hits, but finds her mouth full of a thick, cotton cloth. Panic overtakes her when she realizes that her arms and feet were bound and little squeaks come from her throat.

"Calm down," a voice orders her. "You'll hurt yourself. Now if you promise not to scream, I'll take out the gag."

She nods her head in agreement, silent tears breaking through her still closed eyes. The gag is removed and her captor uses his close proximity to gently stroke her cheek. She finally opens her eyes when his cold fingers brush across her lips. What she sees almost renders her unconscious again.

"You," she gasps. "Why are you doing this? Where's my dad?"

"Dead by now," he says with a laugh. "I'm your daddy now, Debbie. And once your mom comes to her senses, we'll be one happy family."

"Mr. Webster . . . "

"No!" he shouts, smacking her across the face. "It's Daddy! Get it right or suffer the consequences."

Debbie cowers in fear, crying from the sting of his hand on her face.

"Look at what you made me do." He tries to reach out and soothe her, but she jerks away from him. "Alright. If that's how you want it. Maybe your mother can talk some sense into you. You just better hope she gets here soon."

Mr. Webster watches his student sob for a few moments before leaving her alone again. She was giving him just as much trouble as some of the others. He shouldn't have even taken her, but it was the only way to get his real prize. For her sake, she better realize soon the opportunity he was offering. Because he was quickly running out of patience with her.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Once again, the only favor I ask is that neither of you mention The Centre," Jarod reminds them when they reach the front door of his cabin. "I've told my friend stories and . . . "

"We understand," Broots nods. "We don't want to cause trouble for you. We just want to find my daughter." He looks at Miss Parker and uses what little courage he has left to let her know that he meant what he said, no matter what other plans she had. Capturing Jarod wasn't even an option where he was concerned.

"Alright then. After you," Jarod says with a smile, opening the door and allowing his guests to enter.

Miss Parker looks around the house, noting with interest the similarities to her place. Except this one was a little further out in the woods than hers. And this place was more sparsely furnished, much like many of Jarod's other lairs. But unlike his other places, there was a noticeable difference witht this one. There was a distinct feminine touch to the decorating. Lacy throw pillows. Fresh flowers around the room. Candles. Her suspicions are confirmed with the entrance of Jarod's "friend". It's all she can do to keep her mouth from falling open.

"Jarod? What's going on?" Zoë asks, a bit overwhelmed by the room full of guests.

"Zoë, you're home. I thought you were spending the rest of the week in Dover doing some shopping?" Jarod walks to the door and takes the packages from her hands. She reaches up to kiss him, but he quickly ducks his head, hoping she didn't suspect anything by his action. He sets the packages down and motions for her to join the others. "These are friends of mine, Broots and Parker."

"Hi. I'm Zoë," she says with a bright smile, enthusiastically shaking each of their hands. "It's so nice to meet you. I was beginning to wonder if Jarod had any other friends. What brings you two to our neck of the woods?"

Jarod, Miss Parker and Broots all exchange nervous looks. They didn't want to get Zoë involved, but there was no way they'd be able to lie to her.

"We're looking for someone. A little girl. She was kidnapped," Miss Parker says sadly.

"Her name's Debbie," Broots adds, pulling a picture out of his wallet to show Zoë. "Jarod offered to help us."

"Your daughter? She looks a lot like you, Broots," Zoë says, giving him back the picture. "I'm really sorry about what happened. But how can Jarod help?"

They all get quiet again, not sure how to explain it all to Zoë.

"Wait a minute," she says, picking up on their looks. "Jarod, you're not going to . . . you know?"

"Not now, Zoë," Jarod says. "Let's not start this argument again. Now's not the time."

"No, I think now *is* the time," she snaps at him, putting her hands on her hips. "Can I speak with you alone for a minute?" She doesn't wait for him to answer. She just spins around and stomps off to the kitchen so they can have some privacy. He obediently follows.

"Wow, she's tough," Broots remarks after they've left the room. "I didn't realize Jarod had girlfriend."

"Neither did I," Miss Parker frowns, surprised at her reaction to that bit of news. "Neither did I."

* * * * * * * * * *

"Zoë, before you get all upset . . ."

"Jarod you promised," the woman yells. "No more pretending. It's not safe for you. When you pretend, they'll catch up with you."

"I'm not worried about that. Besides, it's a little girl's life at risk. I have to help them find her," Jarod insists. "But if you're worried about your safety, then I can understand that."

"Really?" she sighs with relief. "You won't do this?"

"I didn't say that," he scowls. "I'm going to help them. But if you'd rather not be a part of this, then I can find somewhere for you to go until this is all over."

"No, I'll stay," she relents. "Besides, I didn't like the way that Parker woman was looking at you." She smiles and puts her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jarod laughs nervously, thankful that Zoë couldn't see the panicked look on his face.

"Whatever," she chuckles. "I'm just going to have to keep my eyes on you two." She finally releases him and goes to start some coffee.

Jarod gives her an uncomfortable smile and slinks from the kitchen feeling deceptive. He felt like he was cheating on one of these women. But what was shocking was that it wasn't Zoë he felt like he was betraying, but Miss Parker.

Jarod takes a deep breath before going back to face his guests. He had to put his feelings aside for the moment. Debbie's life was the only thing important here. He had to forget all about how fast his heart seemed to be beating now that he's back in Miss Parker's presence. Or how he can't get enough of the face he's missed seeing over the past three months. Or the voice he's missed hearing. Zoë was nice and beautiful and fun to be with. But she was no Miss Parker. Seeing her again only reinforces that her position in his heart is irreplaceable.

"She seemed upset," Miss Parker says, nodding her head towards the kitchen.

"She'll be alright," Jarod insists.

"Whatever. She's *your* girlfriend. I guess you know her."

The words 'your girlfriend' strike Jarod with the accusatory sting he's sure Miss Parker intended. His pang of guilt is overshadowed by the hostility Miss Parker was obviously directing towards him and he gets defensive, attacking her instead of keeping his mouth shut.

"That's right. She *is* my girlfriend. You have a problem with that?"

"No. Should I?" she snaps back. "Why should I care who you sleep with? It's none of my concern."

"You're right. It's not. Can we just drop it?"

"Fine by me," she says with a shrug, faking nonchalance.

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Fi . . ." Jarod's response is cut off by Broots.

"Alright you two. Enough. You think we can get back to trying to find my daughter?"

"Sorry, Broots," they say simultaneously, sounding duly contrite.

"Parker, why don't you start with this stalker of yours," Jarod suggests. He has to stop himself from running to her side when a pained look crosses her face.

"I guess this started about three weeks ago. I got a package," she starts.

"Mailed?"

"No. There wasn't a post mark. They just kind of ended up in my mailbox." She tells him. "Anyway, it was some lingerie. Just a simple teddy. Nothing too tasteless. Over the next couple of weeks, I kept on getting the packages on a fairly regular basis, about three or four times a week. All the gifts were underwear of some sort. Bra and panty sets, more negligees, and a nightgown. Like I said, nothing really tasteless. But on Friday, things turned nasty. And he sent this." Miss Parker gets up and walks across the room, keeping her back to the men, while Broots pulls out the bloodied nightie.

"Blood?" Jarod asks, touching the hard, dry splotch. "Do you know who's?"

"We're still waiting on an analysis," Broots says. "I told Sydney to e-mail the results. Is there any place I can plug in?" Broots pats the bag at his side that holds his computer. Jarod points him to the desk in the corner and he goes to set things up.

"You okay?" Jarod asks the visibly shaken Miss Parker. He walks over to her and stands behind her as she looks out the window. She shakes her head, unwilling to speak just yet. They stand in a comforting silence for a few moments.

"Why is he doing this? Why did he take her?" she asks, not really expecting an answer. "What could I have done to make him want to punish me like this."

"Parker, this isn't your fault. Don't ever think that it is," Jarod scolds. He gently grabs her elbow and turns her until she's facing him. "This man is sick. And his twisted obsession with you is to blame."

She looks up finally and smiles gratefully at him, relieved to hear that she wasn't to blame for this mess. He smiles back, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Although, I can hardly blame the guy for falling hopelessly in love with you on sight. I know I did," he adds with a whisper.

Her breath hitches at his words, too surprised to say anything. They stare silently at each other for a seemingly endless minute.

"Syd sent the results," Broots calls from his makeshift computer station, breaking their trance. "It's a dead end. There's nothing conclusive. Just that the blood is human. No idea who it belongs to."

They all sigh their disappointment. The first clue didn't turn out to be very helpful. Unfortunately, they were running out of places to start. This guy seems to have committed the perfect crime.

"Coffee's ready," Zoë calls out to them. She brings a tray and sets it on the table. "How do you like it, Broots?"

"I'll take it black," he says, taking the mug from her hands. He turns back to the computer and starts typing in a string of commands with no real purpose. He just needed to feel like he was doing something.

"Broots. You think you can hack into the local police records and try to get a match on that blood?" Jarod asks. "If he has Debbie, it's possible he's taken someone else before. The blood could belong to them." Jarod takes the other cup of coffee Zoë poured and unconsciously adds just the amount of cream Miss Parker likes.

"Thanks," Miss Parker says, taking the coffee from Jarod. She blows it for a second and takes a cautious sip. "Perfect," she smiles. He smiles back at her. Neither of them notices the strange look Zoë gives them.

"You know, I'm going to get out of your way," Zoë says, feeling more and more like a fifth wheel. She gives Jarod a claim staking kiss on the lips before making her way to the stairs. "Good luck finding your daughter."

They watch her disappear up the stairs as the room falls into a sickening silence. Zoë’s blatant display was like a slap in Miss Parker's face. But it was also a wake up call. She wasn't there to be sucked in by Jarod's charms. He seemed to have his hands full with Zoë. She was there to find the little girl she's grown to love more than her own life.

"Let's get back to work. If we can figure out why this guy is doing this, I might be able to get into his head and figure out who is he," Jarod says, noticing the back to business look on Miss Parker's face. It was a drastic change from the smile she wore just a few short minutes ago. It was nice seeing her smile at him. He missed her smile. He hadn't seen it for so many years. And if he never did anything else, he was determined to find Debbie. Just so that he could see that smile again.

* * * * * * * * * *

Miss Parker pours Broots another cup of coffee. He had not moved from his spot in front of the computer for the past four hours. She knew he was exhausted and needed the rest. But she also knew that he wouldn't. Not on his own. This sleeping pill ought to do the trick, she thinks to herself. She drops it in the coffee and waits a few seconds for it to dissolve.

"Why don't you take a break, Broots," she suggests to him, knowing what his answer will be. "You're not going to do Debbie any good by running yourself into the ground."

"I'm not going to be able to rest, Miss Parker. Not when my little girl is out there with some sicko. I have to find her," he insists.

"Just a little break. Come sit on the couch with me and drink this coffee. It'll help revive you," she tells him, hoping he forgives this small indiscretion. She really was doing this for his own good. She smiles and holds her hand out invitingly to him. Like a moth to light, he can't refuse.

"Just a little while," he relents. He types in some last commands into the computer and then joins her on the couch. He takes a few sips of the hot coffee and smiles his thanks to Miss Parker.

"See. Much better, right? You're already looking a lot more relaxed." She puts her arm around him and coaxes his head onto her shoulder. It was only going to be a matter of minutes now before the pill started to work.

"I miss her," he whispers. "I know that I never spent a whole lot of time with her. Not nearly as much as I should have, but I miss her anyway. Just knowing she's not at home or safe in her own bed . . . that's the thought I can't bear."

"Then don't think of that," she says quietly, running her fingers soothingly through the sparse hair on the back on his head. "Think of the good things. Or even the little annoying things about her. She always said you'd yell at her for taking really long showers. And I must admit, her showers almost rival mine," she laughs softly. "And I've discovered she likes to sing in there."

"I know," he smiles. "She has a nice voice. She got that from her mom."

"Was she always like that? I bet you couldn't get her out of the tub when she was little."

"Not even close," he chuckles. "She hated baths. I had the hardest time getting her to take one. I remember one time when she was 3, maybe 4, years old." He pauses for a moment, smiling as the memory plays out in his head. "I ran her bath for her. It was just the temperature she liked. And I even had bubbles for her. But Debbie refused to get inside. I asked her. I begged her. Nothing worked. Finally, I resorted to using the 'Daddy means business' tone of voice. I told her that I was going to get her towel. And she had until the time I got back to be inside that tub."

"What happened?" she asks, an easy smile coming to her face at the thought of the girl as a stubborn toddler. "Was she in the tub when you got back?"

"She was in there alright," he nods. "Fully dressed."

"No!" she says, cracking up at the image.

"Yes. Shoes and all," he laughs along with her.

"That is too much. But, it sounds like something I would have done."

"Yeah. She's a lot like you," he says with a yawn.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I meant it in a good way. I'm glad she's like you. I'm glad she loves you enough to want you to be her mother. She doesn't deserve the one I gave her. She deserves someone who will love her," he yawns again. " . . . take time to be with her . . . protect her," he manages to say in his last conscious breath.

"Broots? Are you awake?" she whispers, poking him in his chest with her finger. When he doesn't respond, she lets out a deep sigh of relief. She's sorry she had to resort to this, but she's glad he's getting some much needed rest.

Protect her. That's the last thing he said. He expected Miss Parker to protect his daughter. She didn't do a very good job at that. Because of her, some lunatic ran off with her. If anything happens to the girl, she'll never forgive herself. And won't expect Broots to either.

"I'll find her," she whispers, kissing him on his forehead. "I promise you. I'll get our little girl back." She closes her eyes for a quick second and listens to his deep, even breaths. Soon, she too is lost to the world of slumber.

* * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 3
* * * * * * * * * *


Zoë steps out onto the porch and wraps her arms around Jarod.

"What are you doing out here?" she asks him sleepily. "It's two in the morning."

"Trying to think," he says distantly. "I have to help them find her."

"She's a lucky little girl," Zoë says. "Her parents obviously love her very much. As much as they love each other. And to think I was actually of jealous of Parker when they first got here. I thought she was checking you out. But from the looks of things, she only has eyes for Broots."

"From the looks of what things?" he asks, trying to sound as if he didn't care. But really, he was a lot more curious than he let on.

"Inside," she says, turning him around so he can look into the house. "Look at them on the couch. They comfort each other, even in sleep."

Jarod peers into the house and sees Miss Parker stretched out on the sofa with Broots resting on top of her, his legs tangled with hers, his head resting on her breast. Both are asleep and neither seems to mind the close proximity of the other.

"It's really sweet," she says. But he's barely listening to her anymore. His mind is trying to process what this all means. He, of all people, had the least right to be jealous of anyone. But he was. He had Zoë. She was beautiful and fun and very loving. Why was it, then, could he not keep his mind off Miss Parker? And why did he expect her to wait around forever for him? He didn't really. But seeing her laying so comfortably and familiarly with another man brought out an envious side to him he never realized he had. He didn't even get this possessive when other men hit on Zoë when they went out.

"Yeah, sweet," he says sarcastically before realizing that she would probably be getting suspicious soon. He had to get away from her. So that he could think. About finding Debbie and . . . other things. "Zoë, it's late. Why don't you go back to bed. I'm going to go walk around for a bit. See if I can get a clearer picture of this guy."

"You okay?" she asks him, noticing that his face has gotten a little red and his fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

"Fine," he lies. "You know how I get during these cases, though. I just need some time."

"Okay," she says, tipping her head up to kiss him. "But don't stay out too late." She gives his hand a squeeze before going back inside the house.

He watches her tip through the living room to avoid waking up their guests. Then his focus turns to Miss Parker. She looked so peaceful in Broots' arms. Jarod, on the other hand, has never given her any reason to feel peaceful since he escaped. For that, he'll be forever sorry to her.

Maybe it was better this way. He was with Zoë. She was a wonderful person, but they both knew that he didn't love her. He could never love her, but he could learn to live with her. He lets out a deep sigh, closing his eyes in resignation and realizes he's just kidding himself. Zoë was too special a person and deserved someone who'd love her completely. And he realized now that he'd never be able to love anyone except Miss Parker. But it looked like it was too late for him.

He opens his eyes again and is surprised to see her staring back at him. He gives her a contrite look, apologizing silently for just gawking at her before turning quickly and walking off the porch. He makes it a good way down the path before he hears her footsteps running behind him.

"Jarod," she calls breathlessly to him.

He keeps on walking, but hears her footsteps stop abruptly.

"Jarod," she calls again, this time sounding a bit impatient. "I know you hear me. Will you just stop running from me? I'm not coming another step after you."

"That's a big change," he snaps, stopping his hasty retreat. He turns to look at her and sees a confused expression on her face. He's instantly guilt ridden at taking his jealousy out on her when not five minutes ago he decided she deserved to find the happiness he couldn't give her. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for." He looks down, finding the pebbles on the ground to be incredibly fascinating all of a sudden.

"Jarod? What's this all about?"

"I uh . . . I didn't realize that you and Broots were . . . .that close," he stutters. "You two seem very . . . happy."

"We've been working together for the past few years," she says, not realizing what he was thinking. "And it's like we share custody of Debbie now. We've gotten to be good friends, I think. But don't tell him I said that," she says with a smile.

"Friends? You two looked a lot closer than that," he says in an accusing tone that slipped out. Once again, the ground gains his undivided attention.

"You think that . . . me and Broots . . . ?" She remembers waking up with Broots wrapped around her and realizes that Jarod must have seen that and misinterpreted the relationship. He must think they're a couple. She's partly amused and annoyed. On the one hand, he looked like he was trying hard not to be jealous. And failing miserably. That was flattering. But on the other hand, what right did he have getting upset if she was involved with someone else? Not with him flaunting Miss Perky Co-Ed in her face every chance he got.

"Not that it's any of your business, Jarod, but Broots and I are just friends," she explains. "Debbie's getting older and needed a woman's influence. She's been spending weekends with me for the past few months. Broots and I have been getting along much better now that we're essentially raising a child together. Besides, why should it bother you? You're with Zoë."

"But she's not who I want to . . . " he says, stopping himself before he said too much. "She's sweet. I like her a lot. Just not as much as she'd like me to. She wants to get married. Settle down. Have kids."

"And you don't want those things?" Miss Parker is curious.

"Not with her," he says quietly, lowering his head in shame. "How about you? You ever thought about settling down? Getting married? Having kids?"

"Once upon a time, Jarod," she smiles wistfully, thinking back to her old childhood dreams. He played an important part in those dreams, but she'll never admit that to him. "I thought that my knight would ride in and rescue me from the Centre. Then we'd ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. Unfortunately these days, the picking's pretty slim for knights in shining armor," she laughs.

"Miss Parker, you're not exactly your typical damsel in distress," he chuckles. "And I find it hard to believe the men aren't falling over themselves for a chance at you."

"Let's see. There was the 80 year old dry cleaner who flirted with me the day. Debbie's widowed English teacher who she tried to set me up with. Oh, and we can't forget my 12 year old paper boy. He's kind of young, but I'm sure in 10 years or so, I can look him up. But until then . . . " she pauses when she sees that look on his face. The look he used to get when he was evolving a plan back when they were kids. She may have been the one to get them into trouble most of the time, but Jarod used to have his own little mischievous streak as well. "What is it? It looks like you got something on your mind."

"Just thinking," he says distractedly. He starts to pace, mumbling indistinguishable sounds to himself.

"You gonna clue in us lower brain forms or what?" she asks after a few minutes of his mumbling.

"I'm sorry," he says, as if suddenly realizing she was there. "Something's bothering me about what you just said and how it ties in to Debbie's disappearance."

"What?"

"When she was taken. How she was taken. The note in her locker. I think it was just a trap."

"Yeah. We figured that," she tells him. "The boy who it was supposedly from said that he didn't even know who Debbie was. Which means that someone else sent it."

"Someone with access to the school. Someone who knows Debbie well enough to know the effect a note from this boy would have on her. Someone who also knows you," he lists for her, seeing that she needs one more clue to figure out who he's talking about. "Someone who may have been interested in you but you turned down."

"Mr. Webster," she gasps, her mouth falling wide open. "Debbie's English teacher. You think he's behind this?"

"I didn't think about it until you mentioned just now how Debbie tried to set you up with him. But it's possible," he nods. "Probably the closest thing to a lead we have. We should at least check him out."

"You're right," she nods.

He smiles at her and starts walking back to the house to get started.

"Jarod," she calls to him. He stops and turns around to face her. She walks to him and looks up timidly. "I just wanted to say thanks. You really didn't have to do this. I owe you."

"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when we find her," he says with a little grin. That grin that always makes her heart race and her knees weak. Mixed with it was that mischievous glint in his eyes. She knew right then she was in big trouble, even before he leans closer to her and adds a promise with a deep, sultry voice. "But you better believe that I'll be collecting on that debt." He grins wider and adds a wink before continuing on to the house.

Oh yeah, she was in trouble. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to care.

* * * * * * * * * *

Miss Parker pokes around the computer, following up on a few leads Jarod set up for her before he left. He decided to break into the school and find out as much about Mr. Webster as he could while she researched him on the computer. She wishes now that she hadn't drugged Broots. This would be so much easier if he were doing it.

She stands and stretches her back. The sun had come up over an hour ago, but her day started long before that. In fact, she never even went to bed. After Jarod began to suspect Mr. Webster, they both worked through the night and into the morning trying to figure out where he might be hiding Debbie.

She hears a car door slam and her heart begins to flutter. Thinking it's Jarod, her face lights up automatically with a smile. He'd only been gone a few hours, and she was surprised at how much she missed him. She runs to the door to let him in and doesn't expect to run into Zoë instead. Her real smile fades and is replaced by the fake one she uses when attempting to be polite.

"You're still up, Parker?" the woman asks coming into the house and closing the door with her foot. Her arms were loaded down with a few bags of groceries. "You and Jarod stayed up all night. I was sure you would have crashed by now."

"Let me help you," Miss Parker offers, taking a couple of the bags and following Zoë into the kitchen. She ignores the slightly accusing tone in Zoë’s voice and tries making some small talk with the woman. "You were out early, yourself. I didn't even realize the stores were open this early."

"There's a 24 hour place a couple of blocks over. And we needed stuff for breakfast. I'm not used to guests. It's usually just me and Jarod," Zoë explains, trying to subtly emphasize her place in Jarod's life. "I wasn't sure what everyone liked, so I got a mixture of everything."

"You didn't have to go through all this trouble," Miss Parker tells her. "We're not trying to impose or anything."

"No imposition. Any friend of Jarod's is a friend of mine," Zoë smiles a fake smile of her own. She apparently tires of small talk and decides to unload the groceries in silence. The silence is broken when Jarod thankfully returns. Both women breathe a sigh of relief.

He walks into the kitchen and slowly stares first at Zoë and then at Miss Parker, wondering to himself what they could have been talking about. His nervousness leaves, however, when neither woman appears to be too upset. In fact, his ego gets a bit of a boost when they both smile at his entrance.

"Good morning, Ladies," he says, laying the charm on thick for the both of them.

"Hey Honey," Zoë jumps on him, hugging him tightly. She plants a good morning kiss on Jarod's lips, not noticing it's entirely one sided. Miss Parker just rolls her eyes at the scene.

"Is there any coffee?" she asks, exasperated at the lengths Zoë is going through to prove that Jarod belongs to her.

"In the bag on that other counter," Zoë points, finally releasing Jarod from her clingy arms. "Oh, Jarod. I got something for you. You're going to love it. My grandma used to make it for me and my sisters when we were kids." She searches through one of the bags and comes out with a jar of fluffy green stuff.

"What is it?" he asks, a bit disgusted, yet intrigued with the substance.

"It's called Watergate Salad. It's really good. Try it," she smiles and opens the jar, dipping her finger inside. She teases him with it before sticking the finger in her own mouth, giggling at the look of disappointment on his face.

"I know what that stuff is," Miss Parker says with a reminiscent smile. "My mom used to let me make it sometimes. It's pretty much the first and only thing I learned to make." She remembers the simple recipe. Pineapples. Nuts. Marshmallows. Whipped Cream. And some kind of pudding. Her eyes pop wide open as she remembers which kind.

"See, even your friend knows how good it." Zoë scoops another fingerful, this time offering it to Jarod. He eyes the concoction warily before closing his eyes and hesitantly opening his mouth.

"Actually, Jarod. That might not be such a good idea," Miss Parker interrupts suddenly. They both look at her as if she just grew another head. "Unless, of course, your intention is to kill him, Zoë."

"What are you talking about?" Zoë sighs, annoyed at Miss Parker's intrusion.

"Hey Genius. Why don't you ask your little girlfriend here what gives the Watergate Salad it's green color," Miss Parker says with a smug grin.

"Pistachio pudding. Why?" Zoë asks innocently. Both she and Miss Parker look expectantly to Jarod for the answer.

"I'm allergic to pistachios," he says apologetically. "Parker's right. One little dollop and I would have had a severe reaction. You ever hear of anaphylactic shock? It's pretty serious."

"I'm sorry," she pouts, falling into his arms. "I didn't know."

"It's okay," he soothes her, glaring over his shoulder at Miss Parker. She rolls her eyes again and turns her attention back to the coffee. Once it's done, she pours herself a cup and thankfully leaves the two of them in the kitchen. After she's gone, Jarod pulls out of Zoë’s embrace.

"Where are you going?" she whines.

"Back to work. Debbie's been gone for almost a day now. We need to find her quickly," he explains.

"Okay," she says with a weak smile, keeping it plastered on her face until he walks out. She'll be so glad when the girl is found. Then, Parker can get out of her house and away from her man. Something tells her there's more going on with Jarod and Parker than they're letting on. How else would she know about his allergy to pistachio? And what about yesterday with the coffee? He knew exactly how she wanted it without her having to say a word.

Zoë fishes through the remaining groceries. She opens one bag and pulls out a box she was hoping Miss Parker would have found. She holds it up and looks at it, tapping the top gently. She never intended on actually using it. But if Miss Parker was going to play dirty, then so would she. There was no way she was giving Jarod up without a fight.

She looks in the cabinet over the stove and searches for the box of food dye, reaching hesitantly for it once it's located. She could do this, couldn't she? It would only be for a few days, until Miss Parker was out of their lives again. Then she would tell him the truth. But for right now, she needed an assurance that he would stay. That in mind, she grabs the box from the shelf with purpose, picking out the tiny blue vial. This has to work, she prays silently before continuing on with the rest of the groceries.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Miss Parker, what was that about?" Jarod asks her angrily when he catches up to her. "Are you deliberately trying to upset her?"

"What? I was just supposed to let her kill you with that stuff? I was just looking out for you," she smirks.

"You could have been more subtle," he suggests.

"Subtle?" she laughs. "When have I ever been subtle about anything. Besides, she hasn't exactly been subtle with her 'keep your hands off of Jarod' mantra she's been spouting. All the kissing and hugging and giggling. It's really growing kind of old," she spits out.

"Why, Miss Parker. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous." This time it's his turn for the smirk. He has to bite his tongue to hold in the laugh when he sees her face turning a bright shade of red. And was that a little green eyed monster peeking over her shoulder?

"Me? Jealous? Whatever," she says, rolling her eyes. "Can we just get back to finding Debbie? Then I can get out of your life and leave you to . . . her."

"You? Leave me alone? That'll be the day. I've been running for years now. You obviously can't get enough of me," he snickers.

"Shut up," she growls.

"You shut up," he retorts childishly.

"No. Both of you shut up," Broots says sleepily. He sits up from the couch and tries to shake the grogginess out of his head. "You two need to just get a room or something. Get rid of this pent up frustration."

"Let's just get back to work," Jarod mumbles, looking down at his feet not wanting anyone to see how much Broots' idea appealed to him. He chances a peek up at Miss Parker and see that her face is even more flushed than before. Her eyes were wide and wild, flashing with what he could only describe as arousal. The idea must have merit to her as well, he thinks to himself, trying to hide his smile. He'd have to keep that thought in mind for the future. But for right now, there was a missing girl to find.

"While you were sleeping, we found a suspect," Miss Parker tells Broots. "Mr. Webster."

"Debbie's teacher? I don't think so," Broots says incredulously.

"Think about it. Who else could have lured her away?" she asks. "We already know that the note was fake. Whoever sent it knew her schedule, her locker, the most popular boy, and how to hide the abduction from the cameras. This person would also have to know who both of us were. And the only person at her school I've ever had contact with was Mr. Webster. I met him once when I picked her up after school. Come to think of it, that was around the time I started getting the gifts."

"But Mr. Webster? It's hard to believe he would do something like this. He's lost a daughter. Why would he take mine and put me through the same thing?" Broots asks.

"Maybe that's why," Jarod offers as an explanation. "Maybe losing his family the way that he did caused him to snap. Maybe he's trying to replace them by taking yours, Broots."

"He thinks I'm Debbie's mother," she reminds him. "He set up that accident to get you out of the way so that he could have me and Debbie to himself."

"I guess," Broots sighs. "It does make sense. But I still just can't believe he would do this. He seemed so nice. So ordinary."

"But he's hiding something," Jarod says. "I went to his place earlier to do a little snooping. No one was there. And it doesn't look like anyone's been there in a while. I think that place is a cover. It's just the address he has on file with the school and post office."

"He must have a place somewhere else," Broots guesses.

"And I think I have an idea where," Miss Parker says excitedly, her eyes lighting up. "When I was doing the research earlier, I found an application for a building permit for additions to a house. I couldn't get the details of the location without a password, though."

"Let me try to hack in," Broots offers. This was his area of expertise. He was finally starting to feel useful. He goes over to the computer and starts to work his magic. "You got anymore coffee? I'm still a little groggy. I could use something to help me wake up."

"I'll get it," Miss Parker says quickly. She still felt guilty about drugging him. "Be right back." She gives them an uneasy smile before hastily retreating to the kitchen. Jarod follows her, curious about what has her so jumpy.

"What's up?" He laughs when she practically jumps out of her skin.


"Don't sneak up on me like that," she gasps, trying to catch her breath. "You scared me."

"You seem awfully nervous all of sudden," he points out.

"Telltale heart syndrome," she grimaces. "I did something last night. I drugged Broots to get him to get some rest."

"He was exhausted," Jarod notes.

"I know. But I'd be furious if one of you had done that to me. I just hope he doesn't find out."

"Well, my lips are sealed," Jarod smiles. "It'll be our secret."

With that smile, she could tell that the game was on. But this time, she wasn't going to let it knock her off her feet without at least a valiant effort. His grin may make her swoon, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve as well. If she was going down, then she wouldn't be the only one. Jarod wouldn't even know what hit him.

* * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 4
* * * * * * * * * *


She takes a deep breath and gathers her courage. Let the games begin, she thinks to herself with a small grin.

"I wouldn't exactly call that a secret," she says, her tone of voice turning suddenly playful. Almost seductive. "I mean, a secret should be something juicy. Forbidden." She leans closer to him and drops her voice to a whisper. "Scandalous."

"Scandalous, huh?" his voice squeaks. Her proximity was starting to cloud his senses. He could barely remember his own name, let alone the fact that his girlfriend was somewhere in the same house. "What would you consider to be scandalous?"

She stares at him for a few minutes, taking him in from head to toe before zeroing in on his eyes. They were dark with arousal and drew her into their chocolate depths.

"Scandalous," she purrs. "Would be what you're thinking about doing to me right now." She gives him a knowing look when his cheeks redden slightly.

"Really? And what would that be?" he asks, playing along with her.

"Oh, you're a bad, bad boy, Jarod. You want to do some . . . wicked things," she whispers. "You want to start with a gentle kiss. Just our mouths pressed together, getting used to each other. But that won't last long. Pretty soon, I'll feel your tongue stroking across my lips, begging for entrance."

"And would you let it?" he practically growls.

"Oh yeah," she nods enthusiastically. "I'd take it hostage between my lips and suck it into my mouth, running my tongue up and down the length of it. Up and down. Back and forth. In a torturous . . . slow . . . rhythm."

All he can do is moan at this point. His eyes roll back into his head as she bridges the final distance between them and captures his earlobe in her mouth, giving it the same attention she just described. It wasn't his tongue as she promised, but it was good enough. Somehow, he manages to fire a thought off to his numb limbs and his hands lift to her waist, beginning an exploration of their own across the smooth skin of her stomach. It's her turn to moan as his finger dance gracefully up and down her sides, getting closer and closer to the prize awaiting them at the top of her chest.

"Jarod. We can't do this," she says between moans. But she doesn't make any moves to stop him. His hands seem to be everywhere at once and were tormenting her already highly sensitized skin. She allows her head to fall back and he takes that as an invitation to ravish her now exposed throat.

"Why not?" he whispers, the word vibrating across her skin and making her go boneless. All thoughts leave her head for a few rapturous seconds until an image pops into her head that brings her back to herself. She reluctantly brings her hands to his chest and pushes him away from her. She looks at him, her eyes full of guilt.

"Zoë," she whispers. "She hasn't exactly been my favorite person, but she doesn't deserve this. You were right before. I was jealous and I behaved badly. But believe me when I say that I don't want to come between the two of you."

"She's the one between the two of us," he says, lifting his hand to cup her cheek. She closes her eyes and leans into it. He pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly against him. He doesn't want to ever let her go.

"Jarod," she gasps. "Don't do this to me. Don't make me want you when I can't have you."

"You can have me," he whispers in her ear, kissing her cheek. "Zoë doesn't have me. You do. You always have. I think you know that."

She pulls back slightly and smiles tenderly at him. And for the first time in their adult life, she allows her lips to meet his. The kiss was tame, almost chaste. But she felt as if her heart was about to burst. There was no way she'd be able to give him up. But she had to. For now, anyway.

"Jarod," she sighs.

"I know," he says. "Not now. But soon. After we find Debbie. And after I talk to Zoë."

"Talk to me about what?"

Jarod and Miss Parker jump away from each other at the sound of the new voice in the room. Several panicked thoughts cross both their minds and they turn to face a teary Zoë. Jarod wonders how long she's been standing there. And Miss Parker wonders, with a little bit of amusement and a lot of awe, how Jarod came to be holding her bra. She didn't even notice him taking it off.

"Zoë." He doesn't really know what else to say. He looks down at his hands, remembering the garment they held. He quickly hides it behind his back, hoping Zoë didn't notice it. He's relieved when he feels Miss Parker surreptitiously slip it from between his fingers.

"What's going on with you two, Jarod," Zoë asks. "And this time, I want the truth."

"You deserve the truth, Zoë," he admits. "I'm sorry I haven't been entirely honest with you."

"So is this some kind of fling? Did she come on strong that she eventually seduced you?" Zoë glares angrily at Miss Parker, trying to blame the whole thing on her. "I can understand if you just slipped, Jarod. She seems like she's a very persuasive woman."

"It's not just a fling, Zoë," he explains slowly.

"There's a lot you don't understand," Miss Parker tries to tell her. But Zoë was having none of her explanations.

"Just shut up!" she screams. "I think you've done enough damage. But you're not going to ruin what Jarod and I have. I won't let you. Tell her, Jarod."

"Zoë, try and listen . . . "

"Listen to what, Jarod? Listen to you tell me how you're leaving me for some cheap thrill? We've been together for months. How could you let her ruin it all in one day?" She pauses her teary tirade to gasps for air. But realization starts to dawn on her. "Unless she's been in the picture the whole time. Have you been playing me for a fool?"

"It's not like that," Jarod tries to defend himself. "But yes, we've know each other for awhile."

"How long is 'awhile'? One month? Six months? Was she around before me or did you meet her after we got together?"

"We've known each other all our lives," Miss Parker says, not wanting to beat around the bush anymore. "I met Jarod when I was 11 years old. And to this day, he's still the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. And not just on the outside. On the inside as well. He was the best friend I ever had. My first and truest love."

"And then one day she kissed me," he smiles, remembering vividly the moment her lips first touched his. "She stole my heart that day. And she's had it ever since."

"You've just been using me," Zoë says through gritted teeth. "All this time, I've been a substitute for her?"

"Never," Jarod interrupts her. "It wasn't like that, I swear. This isn't really an excuse for my actions, but I really thought there was no chance for Parker and me. I had given up on us ever being able to be together."

"And now all of a sudden there is a chance?"

"I honestly don't know," he says, looking over at Miss Parker to see what she's thinking. "But I do know that how I feel about her can't be ignored any longer."

"So she's why you would never commit to me," Zoë realizes. "You lied when you told me you couldn't love. It was *me* you couldn't love."

"Because I can't love anyone but her, Zoë."

"Really?" Zoë asks, raising an eyebrow. "What about your child, Jarod? Would you leave him for your precious Parker?"

"Excuse me?"

"That's right. I'm pregnant," she tells him, laying a hand on her stomach for effect.

"You're pregnant?" Miss Parker asks incredulously, almost suspiciously. "And this is just coming up now?"

"You're think I'm lying?" Zoë rolls her eyes at Miss Parker before pulling a wand from her pocket. She waves around the blue stick in the other woman's face and then hands it to Jarod. "What about now? Do you think this stick is lying as well?"

"You're pregnant?" Jarod asks, repeating the question from earlier. He seemed to be a few minutes behind the conversation. He looks at Miss Parker in shock, unable to do more than open and close his mouth a few times before finally giving up on attempting to speak.

Miss Parker is shocked herself, but more disbelieving. The pregnancy seemed too convenient for her own piece of mind, no matter what proof Zoë offered. Nevertheless, it was what they had to deal with at the moment. But it was something she didn't even want to think about anymore. She had to get away. She looks at Jarod and shakes her head, letting out a deep sigh. There was nothing for her to say, so she walks out the room, leaving silence in her wake. Jarod makes a step to follow her, but is stopped by Zoë’s ultimatum.

"Before you step out that door, I have one question for you. What's it going to be, Jarod. Going after her? Or staying with me and your child? Because you can't have both."

"We can't do this now," he manages to say. He stares at the stick in his hand, still unable to believe what it indicates.

"What do you mean? It's a simple choice," she shrugs. "You always talk about the importance of family. Well, you got one here. Are you going to give that up by walking out that door?"

"Simple?" he yells. He's tried to control his anger up to this point, but that slipped out. He wasn't angry with Zoë. He was mad at himself for getting in the situation and hurting her. She didn't deserve that and she didn't deserve to be yelled at. He takes a breath to calm himself back down. "Nothing about this is simple, Zoë. We need to sit down and talk this out. But first, we have to find Debbie. That's all I can think about right now."

"You think I'm being selfish, don't you?" she sighs, a few tears dripping down her cheeks. "And you think this is all my fault."

"Oh, Zoë," he says, shaking his head. He walks across the room and touches her for the first time since this whole argument started. Her body felt foreign to him now. After Miss Parker, it felt unnatural to be touching another. Nevertheless, he was the cause of all this. He should at least comfort her. "This isn't your fault. It's mine. And I promise you I'll make things right. But I have to find Debbie first. Tell me you understand that."

She steps out of his arms and nods. She realized that was the best she was going to get from him. She watches him leave the room and sighs in relief. She can't believe she actually pulled that off. Hopefully her plan to drive Miss Parker away worked. And once this mess with the girl blew over, she'd have Jarod all to herself again.

She turns to clean up the mess they made with the coffee and is startled to hear him run frantically back into the kitchen.

"They're gone," he says, a piece of paper clutched tightly in his hands.

Zoë wonders what's on the note, but she knows he won't show her. Not that it mattered to her anyway. All that mattered was that Miss Parker was finally out of her way. She has to hold back a victorious grin since Jarod looked so worried.

"What is it? This must be a good sign if they left. They must know where their daughter is. We can get on with our life now," she smiles.

"It's dangerous," he says, shaking his head. "She's angry. Broots is tired and still trying to shake off the effects of a sleeping pill. This guy who has Debbie is a nut. I'm afraid someone's going to get hurt. I wish she hadn't run out of here like that."

He looks pointedly at her, trying to keep the accusation from his glare, but she sees it anyway. She could tell that he was thinking it's her fault Miss Parker ran out of here like that. And in a way, it was. Unfortunately if something happened to her, Zoë knows Jarod would never forgive her. So she does the only thing she can.

"I guess we have to go find her, then." She holds her hand out to him. He hesitantly accepts it. Together they go to track Miss Parker down.

* * * * * * * * * *

The trip is silent, Miss Parker keeping a vigilant eye on the scenery. Broots could see she wasn't in the mood to talk. But it was obvious that something happened. Something to make her come running out the kitchen and practically dragging him to the car. He felt uneasy about leaving without Jarod, but she was insistent.

"Are you going to tell me what happened back there?" he finally asks her, using up probably a year's worth of courage on that short sentence.

"You found the information we were looking for. We're going to get Debbie. End of story," she says, not even turning to look at him.

"Shouldn't we at least have told Jarod we were leaving? I thought we went to him for help. He could have helped us with this."

"Jarod has other things to worry about now," she says quietly. But Broots can hear the hint of a quiver in her voice. That was his signal to drop it. All that really mattered was finding Debbie, anyway.

"I'm sorry," he says gently, grabbing onto her hand. "I don't know what happened, but I'm sorry that it upset you." He gives her hand a little squeeze before letting it go.

"No, Broots." She surprises him by grabbing his hand back and holding it to her chest. He's even more surprised to feel her tears dropping on it. "I'm sorry. Something did happen. But I can't talk about it right now."

"Whenever you're ready," he whispers, still reeling from the shock of her actually opening up to him. She seems reluctant to let his hand go and he wasn't about to rush her. It felt nice in her hands.

"What's this?" she asks, rubbing a spot on the heel of his palm.

"I don't know," he shrugs, looking at the spot too. "I think it happened in the bathroom at Jarod's. It won't come off. I think it's dye or something."

"Blue dye?" she asks, her eyebrow raised in suspicion. "In the bathroom?" Why would someone have blue dye in the bathroom, she wonders to herself. It's hardly a popular color for hair. But it is, coincidentally, fairly common for, oh say, pregnancy tests.

"I think this is the street," Broots says, shaking her out of her thoughts. He turns the corner and slows down to try to find the house.

She looks on one side of the street while Broots looks on the other. Her mind kept on going back to that dye. Zoë was up to something fishy with that pregnancy test. She suspected that now. But it wasn't something she had time to focus on. However, as soon as she finds Debbie, she's making sure Zoë doesn't get away with whatever she's planning. She was going to get Jarod back, she vows. And nothing was going to stop her.

"This is it, Broots," she says, pointing out the window. "That's the house. Park here, across the street."

"What do we do now?" he asks nervously, doing as she ordered and parking the car.

"I'm going in. Make sure you stay out of sight. It doesn't look like Webster is here, but just in case we don't want him seeing you and tipping him off. He thinks that you're dead and he doesn't know that we suspect him." She reaches into the glove compartment of the car and pulls out a gun. It was a bit smaller than the one she usually carried, but would get the job done nonetheless. She smiles at his anxious face and tries to reassure him. "Relax. I'll be fine."

She smiles at him again before stepping out of the car and cautiously crossing the street. He watches her disappear into the house before picking up the cell phone. Dialing the number, he fervently prayed she would forgive him. She may not think they needed Jarod, but Broots did. Broots had the feeling they were going to need all the help they can get.

* * * * * * * * * *

She creeps slowly around the dark house. Although it was daylight outside, all the blinds were shut, keeping the light out. So far she hasn't come across any sign of either Mr. Webster or Debbie. But she keeps her gun close to her in case something unexpected happens. She quickly searches the first floor of the house, but doesn't find anything.

She next moves carefully up the stairs, praying with each step that nothing squeaks. She didn't want whoever was around to be alerted to her presence. She was going up against a mad man. The element of surprise would be her only true weapon. After making it up the entire flight of stairs, she starts checking each room. Every door was unlocked except for one - the one she assumes Debbie's being kept in. Using her lock pick, she makes quick work of the final barrier, gently pushing the door open.

"Leave me alone," the girl cries, not even lifting her head from her pillow.

"Debbie? Honey, it's me. It's Miss Pa . . . it's Mom," Miss Parker corrects herself.

"Mom?" Debbie finally sits up and sees that she's being rescued. Tears of relief and joy flood her face. She tries to leap off the bed, but is restricted by her bonds.

"Stay still, Sweetie," Miss Parker says through her own tears, rushing to the girl's bedside. "Let me help you." She quickly works to remove the straps holding the girl down and then pulls her into her arms.

"I was so scared," Debbie shakes. "I just wanted to go home. Then he told me about my dad. Is he really . . . dead?" She asks that in barely a whisper, needing to know, but also not really wanting to know.

"Oh, Debbie. He's fine," Miss Parker assures her, brushing her unkempt hair from her face. "He's outside waiting . . . " She stops talking when she hears something downstairs. It was the front door opening and closing. Unless she was mistaken, Mr. Webster was home early. She had to get Debbie out now.

She puts a finger to her lips to signal for the girl to stay quiet. Sure enough, she hears steady and confident footsteps moving around downstairs. It definitely was Mr. Webster. What were they going to do now?

She looks around the room and sees the windows have been boarded shut. The only way out the house is down the stairs and out one of the doors. The problem with that plan being Mr. Webster downstairs. They were going to need a diversion. And even then, Miss Parker realized that maybe only one of them would get away. She looks around the room again and has to think of a plan.

"Debbie," she whispers. "We're going to have to split up now."

"No," Debbie sobs quietly, shaking her head vigorously. "Don't leave me with him again."

"I'm not leaving you. We're getting you out of here," she smiles to calm the girl. "I want you to go hide in the bathroom down the hall right next to the stairs. I'm going to get him up here somehow. When you hear him come into the room, sneak down the stairs and out the front door. Your dad is parked across the street."

"What about you?" Debbie pouts.

"Don't worry about that, okay? Promise me you're going to get to your dad and tell him to get you away from here. Promise me, Debbie."

"I promise," she nods. She falls into Miss Parker's arms again, crying into her shoulder. "I love you, Mom. Be careful."

"I love you too, Debbie." Miss Parker takes a deep breath to try to fight the tears, but it's no use. She pushes the girl away and wipes the lone tear. "Go into the bathroom now. And listen carefully. You won't have much time to get away."

They tip down the hall and Miss Parker makes sure Debbie is out of sight before returning to the room. She crawls under the covers to make sure she'll be hidden from view until he can come all the way into the room. Pulling out her gun, she checks it one last time before settling it comfortably in her hand. She needed to be ready to shoot. Everything was ready. She just had to get him up there. After one more deep breath, she lets out a blood curdling scream, sure to get his attention. Within seconds, she hears his heavy footsteps running up the stairs. She hears him hurry down the hall, pulling out some keys. The door finally unlock and flies open. She's silently grateful when she hears him close it behind him. That'll make things much easier for Debbie.

"What's wrong?" he asks, coming closer to the bed. "Did you have a nightmare? It's alright now. Daddy's here." He reaches for the covers and tugs on it slightly. She has a grasp on it and won't let go. He tugs a little harder. She still won't let go. He finally jerks backwards, putting his whole body into it. Now, she lets go and sends him sprawling to the floor.

"Surprise, Daddy," she says sarcastically, pointing the gun at his chest.

"Honey, you're here. You're finally here," he says excitedly after his initial shock wears off. "We've been waiting for you." He stands and takes a step towards her.

"Don't come any closer," she warns, tightening her grip on the gun. "Put your hands on your head."

"What's this all about, my love?" he asks, complying with her wishes. He's standing in the middle of the room, hands on his head, with a gun pointed at him. Yet, he couldn't hide his arousal. She was actually exciting him. His eyes grow even darker as she climbs out of bed, her shirt slipping off of her shoulder. She never got around to putting her bra back on, so all he saw was bare skin. A feral growl comes from his throat and before she can stop him, he's jumped on her and pushed her back on the bed. The gun goes flying from her hand and lands in the corner on the other side of the room. She was immobilized and at the mercy of this madman. She can only hope that Debbie made it to safety.

* * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 5
* * * * * * * * * *


Broots can hardly believe it when he sees Debbie come running out of the house. Without thinking, he jumps out the car and runs to meet her halfway, pulling the girl into his arms.

"Debbie. I can't believe this. You're alright." He squeezes her tightly, not wanting to let his little girl go.

"I'm fine," she tells him, squeezing him in return. "I'm so glad to see you. He told me you were dead."

"Are you sure you're okay?" He finally eases up on his hug and takes a step back to get a good look at her. From outward appearances, she seemed fine. Just really frightened.

"I'm okay," she assures him. "But we have to get out of here."

"Not without Miss Parker. Where is she?" he asks, looking around and suddenly noticing she's not there.

"Still inside," Debbie cries. "Mr. Webster came home while she was getting me out. She stayed to distract him while I got away."

"Oh, no," he groans, covering his eyes with his hands. "No. This is not happening." Just then, he hears a car pull up next to him and come to a screeching halt. He looks up and sees Jarod jumping out.

"Broots. You got Debbie back! That's great," he says excitedly, slapping the man on the back. "Where's Miss Parker?"

"Inside still. With . . . him," Broots tells him without any preamble.

"What?" Jarod gasps.

"He came home early. Debbie was the only one who could get away." Broots watches as Jarod starts pacing and repeating his own previous mantra.

"No. I can't believe this. I have to get her out of there." He stops his pacing and pulls out a few items from his pocket - a cell phone and a gun. He hands the cell phone to Broots and keeps the gun for himself. "Broots, call the police. Explain to them everything you know and get them here immediately."

"What are you going to do?" Broots asks. But he can see the answer to that question in the determined look on Jarod's face.

"I'm going in. I have to save her, Broots," he says with a shaky voice. "She's all I have." He looks into the car and sees Zoë’s worried face. But nothing she could say can stop him from going into that house. Still, he needed to know she was safe. "You and Zoë take Debbie to the hospital, just to make sure he didn't . . . hurt her in anyway."

Broots nods his head once in understanding. He knew there was no way he was going to convince Jarod to wait on the police. He's about to wish the man luck when his words are cut off by a gunshot echoing through the house. Before he can even blink, he sees Jarod across the street and about to disappear into the house. There was nothing he could do now but wait.

* * * * * * * * * *

"I see that I now have your attention," Mr. Webster angrily growls. He was holding a smoking pistol in one hand and was crushing her neck with the other hand. He hears some choking sounds coming from her and eases up a little. She started fighting him, trying desperately to escape. So he had no choice but to pull out his gun and try to stop her. That first shot was just a warning.

"You see what you made me do to you? You were supposed to be the one," he says, trapped in an apparent delusion. "You were supposed to be the one to save me from this despair. But you're just like the others. And now, you're going to die like the others."

She breathes heavily, trying to get enough air into her lungs now that his hand wasn't squeezing her neck anymore. During the previous struggle, her shirt had been ripped and now with each deep breath, her chest heaved towards him, drawing his eyes to her barely covered breasts. He sets the gun down and grabs onto them roughly, tugging and pulling until she cries out in pain. His mouth waters at the sight and feel of her flesh through his fingers and his only thought now is to have a taste. He leans over, determined to get a mouthful. She takes advantage of his distraction and puts her own mouth into play, finding his ear with her teeth and biting down hard. He screams and leaps up, allowing her the chance to escape from where he had her pinned down to the bed. She crawls across the floor as quickly as she can and lunges for her gun. He's right behind her, so she rolls to her back and fires without even thinking. Two more pulls of the trigger and she feels his body crash onto hers.

"Parker," she hears a muffled voice call to her. "Can you hear me?"

She lays there trembling, unable to move or say anything. The heavy body is rolled off of her and replaced with a more familiar one. She opens her eyes and falls straight into the comforting pools of Jarod's eyes.

"Jarod," she gasps, her throat still sore from earlier.

"Shh, don't try to talk," he says gently. He pulls her into his arms and rocks her soothingly.

Everything was fine now, she thinks as her eyes drift close. Jarod was there with her and everything would be okay. She hears the sounds of sirens as she finally drifts farther and farther away from consciousness.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jarod flips through the chart one last time to be sure he was reading it correctly. He bites his lip and sighs in confusion. But there was no mistake. The test had been run three times, once by him personally.

"Not what you expected?" the lab tech asks him.

"Not at all," Jarod tells him. "It's all for the best though. Thanks again for rushing this for me." He smiles before leaving the room and walking down the hall to where she was. He stands outside the room for a moment, wondering how he was going to break the news to her. Finally he goes in.

"I got the results," he says to her. "You're not pregnant, Zoë."

"Oh," she sighs. She knew what the results would be. She actually did take the home pregnancy test to see if she was pregnant. But when the results were negative, she had to resort to a little creativity and fake the test. Thankfully, Jarod will never know about her trickery.

"I know you're disappointed." He moves next to her and puts his arm around her shoulder to comfort her. That just about breaks her heart. She knows she'll never have his love. And now that he knew there was no baby, she had no chance with him. "I guess it was just a false positive. Those home tests are usually accurate, but from time to time there's an error."

"So what happens now?" she whispers, knowing what he's going to say.

"Zoë, you know how I feel about Parker. If there was a baby, I was hoping we'd be able to work something out, but . . . "

"But now you're free to go to her. Without guilt," Zoë snaps. She's trying to keep her dignity. But really she's just a breath away from getting down on her knees and groveling at his feet.

"We had a good time, Zoë. I'm grateful for the time I was able to spend with you. I hope we can still . . . "

"Not going to happen," she interrupts him, placing a finger over his lips. "We can't be friends after this. You hurt me, Jarod. You used me because you couldn't have her. And now that you can, you're dumping me like yesterday's trash."

"I'm sorry," is all he can say, lowering his head in shame.

"Me too, Jarod." She stands and gathers her stuff, walking to the door. She turns back and looks at him one last time. "Me too."

He watches her squeeze her eyes shut, tears bursting through the barrier. With a sob, she turns and walks out of his life. He was sad that he had to hurt her. But living again without Miss Parker would have been impossible. One day he hopes Zoë will understand that.

With a sigh, he leaves the room. He wanders down the hallway until he finds where he truly wants to be.

"Knock, knock," he smiles as he pushes open the door to Miss Parker's room. "You up for company?"

"I think I'll make an exception in your case," she smiles. The nurse finishes with her IV and smiles at the two of them.

"Not too long," she says. "Visiting hours are almost over and this one needs her rest." She winks at Jarod before walking out the room to give them some privacy.

"How are you?"

"Tired. Sore. But glad that it's all over." She looks up at him, biting her lip, not sure how to ask what's really on her mind. "It is all over, isn't it?"

"You mean with Zoë," he says, understanding what she was getting at. "She's not pregnant. I ran the test on her myself. I feel bad that she had her hopes up, though. A false pregnancy from a home test is hard for some women to deal with."

Miss Parker looks at him in disbelief. He really believed Zoë’s story. Miss Parker didn't believe it for a second. With the mysterious blue dye from the bathroom, she's pretty sure Zoë faked the test. But there really wasn't any point bringing that up now. She already had the man. There was no need furthering discrediting the woman in his eyes. She can even almost understand her actions. Not that she'd ever do something like that herself. But she can understand wanting to do anything to keep a man like Jarod.

"Will she be okay?" she asks him, trying to sound concerned for the woman.

"I hope so," he shrugs. "But I'm more concerned about us. Will we be okay?"

"We'll be more than okay," she smiles, her eyes starting to feel heavy. She grabs for his hand and holds tightly. "I'm going to hold on to you and never let you go. I know that whatever happens, you'll be there for me. Just like this time."

"I don't know if I can handle something like this again. You scared me, Parker," he says, kissing her hand. "No more playing damsel in distress, you got it?"

"But, you rescued me," she says with a yawn. "You slayed the evil monster that held me captive and saved me. You're my knight in shining armor."

"And you're high," he retorts, pointing to her IV bag with the wonderful mixture of pain killers for her. "You may not remember it accurately, but you saved yourself. And Debbie. You're the real hero."

"That's okay," she slurs. The drugs were starting to take effect. "You're still my knight. I'll take you anyway I can get you. Even if your armor isn't so shiny."

"That's good," he smiles. "Because you got me. Rusty armor and all."

"Rusty armor," she giggles, the words sounding funny to her for some reason. With her last moment of lucidity, she pulls him to her, placing a passionate kiss on his lips.

"I love you," he gasps, pulling away from her embrace, letting her rest.

"I love you too," she smiles, loving how easily the words slip from her mouth. That was the first time she ever said that to anyone she wasn't related to. Unfortunately, she was practically unconscious and wasn't entirely sure she wasn't dreaming the whole thing. Just before drifting off, she makes a note to say it again to him. And to make sure he knew she meant it.

* * * * * * * * * *
Epilogue
* * * * * * * * * *


Miss Parker pulls up to the curb and checks her watch. 3:30, it reads. She isn't any earlier than she usually is to pick up Debbie for their weekend visit, but for some reason today the street is lined with cars waiting to pick up their kids. Maybe they're all running later today, she figures to herself as she gets out of the car and walks towards the school. Because they're all usually gone by the time she arrives.

It had been a very long and lonely two weeks for her. When she woke up in the hospital, she woke to Sydney's concerned eyes instead of Jarod's. Apparently, her father had gotten wind of the incident and sent a sweeper team to the hospital. Jarod just barely got away without being spotted. That was last week. And now, it's Friday again. Another week gone. And still no sign of him. Maybe she only dreamt those wonderful words he said to her. Maybe she just imagined him loving her.

"Here to meet him too, huh?" a voice reaches her, startling her out of her thoughts.

"Who?" she asks, staring at the woman next to her. She's seen this woman before. Jenny Carson's mom. But she's never looked like this before. Normally, she dashes to the school in her house dress and curlers to pick up Jenny. Today, she had on clothes. Her hair was done and she was wearing make up. Miss Parker looks around and sees that all the mothers are similarly arrayed. Like they all got the glamour shots make over.

"The new teacher," she says, as if it should have been obvious. "Jenny's been telling me about the dreamboat the school got to replace Mr. Webster."

"All of you are out here to see him?" Miss Parker asks, amused at the lengths these single women would go through. She didn't think half these women actually had kids in the class.

"Oh, no. It's Cami Peters. She's such a slut," the woman hisses, looking at a blond woman stepping out of a car. "I'm going in first before she gets a chance to get her claws in him. You coming?"

"That's okay," Miss Parker says, stifling her laugh. "You go get him!"

She lets out her laugh after the woman is far enough away. This was too much. The guy probably was mediocre at best. Barely worth a second thought from her. Especially considering her own personal dreamboat. Jarod made her not even want to look at another guy.

A few minutes later, she's leaning up against her car, perusing a magazine she found in her trunk. Apparently she was earlier than she thought she was. It's taking Debbie forever got come out of class today. Just then, she hears a commotion from the school. Sounds like all the women were finally leaving that poor man alone, she thinks to herself with a laugh. She looks up and sees a group of about 20 women leaving. And like she suspected, not even half of them had a child with them. She just shakes her head and goes back to her magazine.

"You must be Debbie's mother," a deep, familiar voice says a few minutes later. A smile grows on her face and she looks up at the man standing in front of her. It takes everything in her not to throw her arms around him.

"And you must be Debbie's teacher," she says, playing along with him.

"Fine. Mr. Fine," he says, offering his hand.

"Very, very fine," she mutters under her breath, before introducing herself. "Parker. Miss Parker."

The other mothers notice the exchange and realize there was no hope for them. He was obviously smitten with this woman. They look at her and sigh. She has it all. Looks. Style. Nice car. And now the undivided attention of the best looking thing to hit town in years. They gather up their children and leave the school. When the last car pulls away, Miss Parker finally gives into her urge and falls into his arms. He dips his head and brushes his lips lightly against hers.

"I missed you," he whispers.

"I missed you, too. How long have you been here?"

"Just a few days. He made me promise not to tell you. He wanted you to be surprised when you came to pick me up today," Debbie explains.

"I am surprised," Miss Parker says, nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck and taking in his seductive scent. "But it's a good surprise. I didn't know when I'd see you again."

"I could never be away from you too long," he promises. "I may have to disappear from time to time, but if I can help it, right here is where I'm going to be from now on."

"Delaware?"

"No," he shakes his head, smiling lovingly at her. "Right here." He bends down and meets her mouth with his. It was a kiss full of promise and hope, conveying the happiness he felt now and a preview of the happiness he hopes to offer her in the future.

"That's the best place to be," she says, pulling out of the kiss before things got too x-rated for Debbie. "Mr. Fine, my daughter and I are going out for dinner now. Would you like to join us?"

"I'd love to," he grins. "But do me one favor."

"What's that?" she asks, a curious look on her face.

"Call me Jarod."

The End.









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