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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: see part one
~~~~~~~
The Past Always Catches Up Part 8
Digging for a treasure
Parker looked up calmly when the door opened and a woman came in.
“My name’s Vivian Johnson,” the agent introduced herself. The black woman’s hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her eyes were watching Parker intently, taking in her appearance.
“You know my name so I don’t see the point in telling you again,” Parker snapped angrily.
The agent quirked an eyebrow but got no reaction out of the brunette on the other side of the table. “Ok Mrs,” she paused for a second, “Stuart, there’s something I just don’t get about this.”
Parker looked at her unfazed. “Shoot, maybe I’ll give you an answer,” she said. The old ice queen that had been nearly forgotten after she had left the Centre was back in place. She had fallen back into her old persona after she had found herself in the police station, seeing Lyle in front of it, looking at her. It was a mask necessary to survive this ordeal.
“After it was all over she could let herself feel - could deal with the emotions, but for now she pushed them down. Emotions would solve nothing and she had to concentrate on the task at hand… and hope that they would be able to rescue Jay despite the FBI’s interference.
“You and your husband both don’t seem to be all that fazed by what’s happening,” agent Johnson said, putting a file onto the desk and sitting down opposite Miss Parker.
“Listen, and listen closely, agent,” Miss Parker spat, meeting the agent’s gaze with cold eyes. She would have drawn her gun by now or be at the black woman’s throat, but physically threatening a federal agent would probably worsen the situation. “You don’t know my husband or I so don’t you even try to judge us.”
“I wouldn’t try to judge you; I’m just saying that your behaviour is quite unusual. How about you cue me in on what you’re doing?”
“No.”
The simplicity of the statement - that one word, said with such conviction - astonished the agent. “We are here to help you, Mrs Stuart. We’re not the enemy. Give us something to work with so that we can help your family.” She held the woman’s gaze, hoping that she would open up to her. There was a moment in which her eyes seemed to soften. In that moment agent Johnson thought she would be told what they needed to know to get on with the investigation but then the woman’s eyes grew cold again.
“No.”
Simple as that.
~~~~~~~~
It took Jarod all he had to keep from jumping up and pacing the room. Every single second seemed to stretch into eternity.
The door opened and the two agents appeared in the room.
He watched them approach and Malone sat down on the other side of the table while the Latino lingered around behind Jarod’s back.
‘Tactic to make the suspect or the one questioned nervous,’ Jarod knew, but he also knew that it wouldn’t work. He had been on the other end of an interview often enough to know the tactics. The nervousness he felt didn’t come from them, but rather from Jay’s precarious situation.
The agents watched the missing boy’s father intently. To them the man seemed to be controlled and unaffected, but to those who knew him well he was edgy and tense - unfortunately those who would have known weren’t present and therefore couldn’t tell the agents so.
“Who are you?” Malone asked.
Jarod leaned back in his chair and clenched his jaw. “Jarod Stuart,” he replied harshly.
“See that’s what I don’t believe,” Malone caught on and tilted his head, his eyes never leaving the man.
Jarod quirked an eyebrow and shrugged. “Then don’t.” He knew that Malone was trying to provoke him and that they probably knew by now that Parker and he had no past in any records the agents had access to.
“There’re no records about you or your wife at all. Not from before you came to New York,” Malone said, confirming Jarod’s suspicion. Jarod just returned the agent’s stare.
“Maybe we should start this again,” Agent Taylor suggested from behind, walking up to the table and seating himself on the edge of it, right next to Jarod. He leaned into the man’s personal space and smirked.
“Maybe, but we wouldn’t get any new results.” Jarod looked up at him with a piercing glance.
“Why don’t you tell us what this is about?” Danny asked.
“Because you wouldn’t believe the story,” Jarod responded calmly. Inwardly he was seething and being consumed by a nagging fear for his son but he forced himself to stay calm.
“Try us,” Malone shrugged.
Jarod’s gaze slowly wandered over to the older agent’s. “I’d rather not.”
“Why are you making this so difficult? This is about your son. We’re here to help,” Danny exploded, standing up and then bending down, invading Jarod’s personal space again.
Jarod didn’t look at the Latino but held Malone’s gaze. “Because you can’t help,” he stated evenly with a clam that didn’t inhabit him at that time.
“Is this about the mafia, the Yakuza or another powerful illegal organization? Are you members of the witness protection program?” Malone asked carefully.
Jarod’s eyebrows hit his hairline. It was really fascinating what people would try to think up once something didn’t make sense.
“Look, if your son has been kidnapped by one of these organizations, we can help you. We’ve dealt with similar cases and the victims were returned safely to their families. We have experience with cases like these,” Malone looked at Jarod, putting all the reassurance he had in his gaze.
Jarod leaned forward. “No, Agent Malone. Believe me: you have no experience at all with what’s happening here.”
“And you think so because--?” Danny trailed off, smirking pleasantly at the man who was still a mystery to him. None of his usual tricks had worked on him, no pushing and jabbing had brought results, neither had getting into the man’s personal space bothered him. The man didn’t rise to any of the baits the young agent had thrown at him.
Again, Jarod’s gaze didn’t waver from Malone’s. “I know that because there haven’t been any cases like this one - at least not officially.”
“But you have experience?” Malone asked, still keeping eye contact.
“More than I’d like,” Jarod said and leaned back in the chair, letting his fingers come to rest on his thigh. He consciously refrained from letting them drum a nervous rhythm.
Danny watched the man closely. “Why don’t you fill us in so that we can help you?”
“Because you can’t help,” Jarod repeated his earlier words, not quite so patiently this time.
“Why not?” Malone asked neutrally.
“Because this is way over your head, agent Malone. You don’t know a thing about this case; what this is about,” Jarod tilted his head to his side.
The door opened, interrupting the conversation and a blonde woman poked her head through. “Jack?” she asked.
Malone shot Danny a look to keep going. He then got up from his seat and left the room. He joined Sam and Martin outside.
“What is it, Sam?” he asked once the door was closed.
“We have something here. The colleagues from ‘witness protection’ were less than forthcoming as always but as far as we could see, there are no records about the family being in the program; we then did a picture search. At first with no results but once we combined the man’s forename and his picture we came up with a mass of information. Look what we found,” she handed him a stack of paper and he skipped through the first pages, a frown appearing and deepening with every page he laid eyes upon.
He suddenly turned around and watched the man through the one-way mirror.
“What’s this about?” Sam asked.
“I have no idea but I hope that he’ll give us a few answers,” Malone answered darkly and strode back into the interrogation room.
He sat back down and looked at Jarod who returned the look, still unaffected. Malone took the sheet of paper lying on top of the pile he had brought with him.
“Jarod Gardener. Anatomy Professor Unearths Deadly Conspiracy,” Malone read the headline.
Jarod felt the blood rush from his face and his eyes went wide.
Malone threw the file onto the table and picked up the next paper from the stack. “Jarod Dupond. Stranger Infiltrates Haz Mat Unit - Solves Murder,” Malone went on and grabbed the next file. “Dr. Jarod Clay. Mysterious Surgeon Uncovers Hospital Fraud.” He looked at Jarod and picked up the next file. “Oh, and that is really interesting. An internal FBI report: An agent Jarod Jackson claimed to be a hostage negotiator and helped clearing a hostage situation in Fletcher Ridge, Illinois.” Malone let the file drop onto the table next to the other ones and looked directly at Jarod. “Shall I continue? Do you want the photos to the articles? There’re some nice shots.”
Jarod had quickly recovered from his shock and he smiled mildly. “No, that won’t be necessary. I know the pictures,” he leaned back in his chair and looked at Malone. “You’re good. I have to give you credit for that.”
“But?” Danny asked who had quietly observed the whole scene, shocked and intrigued at the same time about his boss’s revelation. His mind was running overtime right now. He was reassessing what he had seen and heard before, reconnection events and facts of their investigation.
“It still won’t help you - or me - with the problem we have at hand now,” Jarod said calmly.
“You could give us some more information so that we can locate your son,” Malone proposed.
“See, agent Malone. That’s exactly what I mean. You have no idea what this is about,” Jarod pressed his hands flat on the table and pushed himself up forcefully, the chair’s legs screeching on the floor as it was pushed backwards. He started pacing the room agitatedly. “I know exactly where my son is. The only problem I have right now is to get you off of my heels and get him out of there.”
Both agents looked at him, their mouths agape, stunned at what Jarod had just told them.
“You know where your son is?” Danny asked.
Jarod sat down again but before he could reply, his cell phone started ringing in his pocket. He quickly fingered for the device but before he was able to flick it open and bring it to his ear, Malone grabbed his hand.
Jarod’s head shot up and his gaze met the agent’s. His eyes were flashing fire at the agent. “Let go of me,” he growled darkly, pronouncing each word.
“Not now, I want some answers.”
“With keeping me from taking that call, you’re endangering the life of my son further so you better let go of me or I might regret my actions later.”
“Who’s that?” Malone asked, nodding towards the telephone in Jarod’s hand.
Jarod’s eyes narrowed while the phone continued ringing in his hand. He looked at the device. “Most certainly someone who can further narrow down the area where my son is,” he replied tensely.
“You said you knew where he was,” Danny frowned.
“I do but that place is as big as the empire state building and as guarded as Alcatraz and now, if you would ‘please’ let go of my hand,” he all but ordered, berating the ‘please’ in his sentence with his tone of voice.
Malone indeed let go of the hand and Jarod quickly snatched the phone open.
“Sydney?” he asked breathlessly.
“Yes, it’s me. What took you so long?” Sydney’s voice came over the line.
“I have some more problems on my heels. So where is he?”
“SL-27,” Sydney said.
To be continued…
Author’s Note: Ugh-uh, doesn’t look good now does it?
But what I wanted to say was that I didn’t make up the headlines that agent Malone read out to Jarod. I copied them from an episode (“PTB’s”) of tP. I hope that I put the right alias Jarod used at those times to the headlines but if not, please bear with me.
I hope that you are enjoying the ride so far… you could tell me by dropping a review. Thanks!
~~~~~~~
Digging for a treasure
Parker looked up calmly when the door opened and a woman came in.
“My name’s Vivian Johnson,” the agent introduced herself. The black woman’s hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her eyes were watching Parker intently, taking in her appearance.
“You know my name so I don’t see the point in telling you again,” Parker snapped angrily.
The agent quirked an eyebrow but got no reaction out of the brunette on the other side of the table. “Ok Mrs,” she paused for a second, “Stuart, there’s something I just don’t get about this.”
Parker looked at her unfazed. “Shoot, maybe I’ll give you an answer,” she said. The old ice queen that had been nearly forgotten after she had left the Centre was back in place. She had fallen back into her old persona after she had found herself in the police station, seeing Lyle in front of it, looking at her. It was a mask necessary to survive this ordeal.
“After it was all over she could let herself feel - could deal with the emotions, but for now she pushed them down. Emotions would solve nothing and she had to concentrate on the task at hand… and hope that they would be able to rescue Jay despite the FBI’s interference.
“You and your husband both don’t seem to be all that fazed by what’s happening,” agent Johnson said, putting a file onto the desk and sitting down opposite Miss Parker.
“Listen, and listen closely, agent,” Miss Parker spat, meeting the agent’s gaze with cold eyes. She would have drawn her gun by now or be at the black woman’s throat, but physically threatening a federal agent would probably worsen the situation. “You don’t know my husband or I so don’t you even try to judge us.”
“I wouldn’t try to judge you; I’m just saying that your behaviour is quite unusual. How about you cue me in on what you’re doing?”
“No.”
The simplicity of the statement - that one word, said with such conviction - astonished the agent. “We are here to help you, Mrs Stuart. We’re not the enemy. Give us something to work with so that we can help your family.” She held the woman’s gaze, hoping that she would open up to her. There was a moment in which her eyes seemed to soften. In that moment agent Johnson thought she would be told what they needed to know to get on with the investigation but then the woman’s eyes grew cold again.
“No.”
Simple as that.
~~~~~~~~
It took Jarod all he had to keep from jumping up and pacing the room. Every single second seemed to stretch into eternity.
The door opened and the two agents appeared in the room.
He watched them approach and Malone sat down on the other side of the table while the Latino lingered around behind Jarod’s back.
‘Tactic to make the suspect or the one questioned nervous,’ Jarod knew, but he also knew that it wouldn’t work. He had been on the other end of an interview often enough to know the tactics. The nervousness he felt didn’t come from them, but rather from Jay’s precarious situation.
The agents watched the missing boy’s father intently. To them the man seemed to be controlled and unaffected, but to those who knew him well he was edgy and tense - unfortunately those who would have known weren’t present and therefore couldn’t tell the agents so.
“Who are you?” Malone asked.
Jarod leaned back in his chair and clenched his jaw. “Jarod Stuart,” he replied harshly.
“See that’s what I don’t believe,” Malone caught on and tilted his head, his eyes never leaving the man.
Jarod quirked an eyebrow and shrugged. “Then don’t.” He knew that Malone was trying to provoke him and that they probably knew by now that Parker and he had no past in any records the agents had access to.
“There’re no records about you or your wife at all. Not from before you came to New York,” Malone said, confirming Jarod’s suspicion. Jarod just returned the agent’s stare.
“Maybe we should start this again,” Agent Taylor suggested from behind, walking up to the table and seating himself on the edge of it, right next to Jarod. He leaned into the man’s personal space and smirked.
“Maybe, but we wouldn’t get any new results.” Jarod looked up at him with a piercing glance.
“Why don’t you tell us what this is about?” Danny asked.
“Because you wouldn’t believe the story,” Jarod responded calmly. Inwardly he was seething and being consumed by a nagging fear for his son but he forced himself to stay calm.
“Try us,” Malone shrugged.
Jarod’s gaze slowly wandered over to the older agent’s. “I’d rather not.”
“Why are you making this so difficult? This is about your son. We’re here to help,” Danny exploded, standing up and then bending down, invading Jarod’s personal space again.
Jarod didn’t look at the Latino but held Malone’s gaze. “Because you can’t help,” he stated evenly with a clam that didn’t inhabit him at that time.
“Is this about the mafia, the Yakuza or another powerful illegal organization? Are you members of the witness protection program?” Malone asked carefully.
Jarod’s eyebrows hit his hairline. It was really fascinating what people would try to think up once something didn’t make sense.
“Look, if your son has been kidnapped by one of these organizations, we can help you. We’ve dealt with similar cases and the victims were returned safely to their families. We have experience with cases like these,” Malone looked at Jarod, putting all the reassurance he had in his gaze.
Jarod leaned forward. “No, Agent Malone. Believe me: you have no experience at all with what’s happening here.”
“And you think so because--?” Danny trailed off, smirking pleasantly at the man who was still a mystery to him. None of his usual tricks had worked on him, no pushing and jabbing had brought results, neither had getting into the man’s personal space bothered him. The man didn’t rise to any of the baits the young agent had thrown at him.
Again, Jarod’s gaze didn’t waver from Malone’s. “I know that because there haven’t been any cases like this one - at least not officially.”
“But you have experience?” Malone asked, still keeping eye contact.
“More than I’d like,” Jarod said and leaned back in the chair, letting his fingers come to rest on his thigh. He consciously refrained from letting them drum a nervous rhythm.
Danny watched the man closely. “Why don’t you fill us in so that we can help you?”
“Because you can’t help,” Jarod repeated his earlier words, not quite so patiently this time.
“Why not?” Malone asked neutrally.
“Because this is way over your head, agent Malone. You don’t know a thing about this case; what this is about,” Jarod tilted his head to his side.
The door opened, interrupting the conversation and a blonde woman poked her head through. “Jack?” she asked.
Malone shot Danny a look to keep going. He then got up from his seat and left the room. He joined Sam and Martin outside.
“What is it, Sam?” he asked once the door was closed.
“We have something here. The colleagues from ‘witness protection’ were less than forthcoming as always but as far as we could see, there are no records about the family being in the program; we then did a picture search. At first with no results but once we combined the man’s forename and his picture we came up with a mass of information. Look what we found,” she handed him a stack of paper and he skipped through the first pages, a frown appearing and deepening with every page he laid eyes upon.
He suddenly turned around and watched the man through the one-way mirror.
“What’s this about?” Sam asked.
“I have no idea but I hope that he’ll give us a few answers,” Malone answered darkly and strode back into the interrogation room.
He sat back down and looked at Jarod who returned the look, still unaffected. Malone took the sheet of paper lying on top of the pile he had brought with him.
“Jarod Gardener. Anatomy Professor Unearths Deadly Conspiracy,” Malone read the headline.
Jarod felt the blood rush from his face and his eyes went wide.
Malone threw the file onto the table and picked up the next paper from the stack. “Jarod Dupond. Stranger Infiltrates Haz Mat Unit - Solves Murder,” Malone went on and grabbed the next file. “Dr. Jarod Clay. Mysterious Surgeon Uncovers Hospital Fraud.” He looked at Jarod and picked up the next file. “Oh, and that is really interesting. An internal FBI report: An agent Jarod Jackson claimed to be a hostage negotiator and helped clearing a hostage situation in Fletcher Ridge, Illinois.” Malone let the file drop onto the table next to the other ones and looked directly at Jarod. “Shall I continue? Do you want the photos to the articles? There’re some nice shots.”
Jarod had quickly recovered from his shock and he smiled mildly. “No, that won’t be necessary. I know the pictures,” he leaned back in his chair and looked at Malone. “You’re good. I have to give you credit for that.”
“But?” Danny asked who had quietly observed the whole scene, shocked and intrigued at the same time about his boss’s revelation. His mind was running overtime right now. He was reassessing what he had seen and heard before, reconnection events and facts of their investigation.
“It still won’t help you - or me - with the problem we have at hand now,” Jarod said calmly.
“You could give us some more information so that we can locate your son,” Malone proposed.
“See, agent Malone. That’s exactly what I mean. You have no idea what this is about,” Jarod pressed his hands flat on the table and pushed himself up forcefully, the chair’s legs screeching on the floor as it was pushed backwards. He started pacing the room agitatedly. “I know exactly where my son is. The only problem I have right now is to get you off of my heels and get him out of there.”
Both agents looked at him, their mouths agape, stunned at what Jarod had just told them.
“You know where your son is?” Danny asked.
Jarod sat down again but before he could reply, his cell phone started ringing in his pocket. He quickly fingered for the device but before he was able to flick it open and bring it to his ear, Malone grabbed his hand.
Jarod’s head shot up and his gaze met the agent’s. His eyes were flashing fire at the agent. “Let go of me,” he growled darkly, pronouncing each word.
“Not now, I want some answers.”
“With keeping me from taking that call, you’re endangering the life of my son further so you better let go of me or I might regret my actions later.”
“Who’s that?” Malone asked, nodding towards the telephone in Jarod’s hand.
Jarod’s eyes narrowed while the phone continued ringing in his hand. He looked at the device. “Most certainly someone who can further narrow down the area where my son is,” he replied tensely.
“You said you knew where he was,” Danny frowned.
“I do but that place is as big as the empire state building and as guarded as Alcatraz and now, if you would ‘please’ let go of my hand,” he all but ordered, berating the ‘please’ in his sentence with his tone of voice.
Malone indeed let go of the hand and Jarod quickly snatched the phone open.
“Sydney?” he asked breathlessly.
“Yes, it’s me. What took you so long?” Sydney’s voice came over the line.
“I have some more problems on my heels. So where is he?”
“SL-27,” Sydney said.
To be continued…
Author’s Note: Ugh-uh, doesn’t look good now does it?
But what I wanted to say was that I didn’t make up the headlines that agent Malone read out to Jarod. I copied them from an episode (“PTB’s”) of tP. I hope that I put the right alias Jarod used at those times to the headlines but if not, please bear with me.
I hope that you are enjoying the ride so far… you could tell me by dropping a review. Thanks!
