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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Part 7
by N.R. Levy
Sydney sat silent, watching Broots pace back and forth across the office. Clearly, he was troubled by the news he'd just relayed to Sydney, and though it had come in a somewhat confused dialogue, the shrink had been able to pick out the important parts. Angelo was missing and Parker was searching for him. Parker was asking about who handled lab work for Broots, work that included the test of her brother's DNA. And Parker, who had always worked harder than any human should have to to hide her feelings was suddenly spending vast amounts of energy on a man she had referred to as Cousin It on more than one occasion.
"Syd, do you think - I mean, could Lyle have, you know?"
"This is the Centre, Broots. Anything is possible."
"But I mean, if she thought that, why wouldn't she tell us?"
"I don't know, Broots. Maybe she just felt it was safer if she was the only one who had the information."
"You mean, she doesn't trust us?"
"Of course she trusts us, Broots. She asked you about the tests, didn't she? She knew it wasn't anything you did that caused this. No, I mean it was safer for us not to know."
"Oh." The look on the technician's face made it clear to Sydney that he was still a little uncertain, and maybe, just a little bit guilty.
"Broots, you couldn't have known that Lyle might have reason to influence the tests."
"Couldn't I? No one around this place ever tells the truth, Syd, except maybe Miss Parker. She was so worried about him finding out. I should have taken the samples somewhere else, somewhere he couldn't get to them."
"And he would have found another way back in here."
That truth Broots couldn't deny, and so he forced himself to stop thinking about his own feelings and start thinking of a way to help his friend.
"Syd, I'm working on hacking into the computer files at the hospital, to see what tests they might have run. The problem is, I'm having to do it inside a dark cloud - I mean, I can't let anyone here figure out what I'm checking."
"No, you can't. Once you find out, let me know. Meanwhile, we need to start checking the locations you found where Lyle might have Angelo hidden."
"Well, okay, but, I mean, even if I find him, you and I can't go in there and get him. Can we?"
"Maybe not. But I think I know someone who can - and who'll be willing to do it for Miss Parker.
"But Miss Parker doesn't want anyone else to know. I wasn't even supposed to tell you."
"I understand that Broots, but we need to get Angelo away from Lyle as soon as possible. If what you're suggesting is true, then Lyle knows what would happen if the truth about his identity were revealed. He'll do whatever he has to do to keep himself in Mr. Parker's chair."
Much to Sydney's relief, Broots finally stopped pacing. Now the tech stood in front of his desk, looking exhausted and worried. He decided it was time to ask about the other search the man had been conducting.
"Broots, you mentioned something about a photograph?"
"Oh, yeah. Well, Miss Parker gave me this photo of two girls, about six, seven years old. She said their names were Catherine and Elizabeth."
Sydney stood, the names catching his attention.
"Catherine as in Mrs. Parker?"
"Yeah, well, I mean, I think so. Miss Parker didn't say. She just asked me to see what I could find."
"And did you turn up anything?"
"Well, I did find a birth record for an Elizabeth Jamison, but that was it. I mean, it was like all of the records that would tell me anything about her just disappeared."
"Meaning?"
"Well, I don't know. I have a feeling Jarod probably does, but -"
"Jarod?"
"Yeah. He sent her a photo album the other day filled with stuff about her mom. I think the picture came from that."
Broots watched as Sydney's brow furrowed. He imagined that the shrink was tracing his memory banks, trying to see if he could recall Mrs. Parker mentioning anyone named Elizabeth. From the look on his face, it was clear that he wasn't having any luck.
"Keep searching, Broots, for Elizabeth and for Angelo."
"Well, I should call Miss Parker -"
"No, Broots, you shouldn't."
"But she said -"
"Broots, Miss Parker went after Damon. She needs all of her focus on him right now."
Nodding, Broots turned and headed back to his office. He had to work on his cloaking program to be sure that his search for the truth about Angelo remained private. Hopefully the tests from the hospital would give him some answers.
*****
Damon parked his car in the rear alley of the apartment building he'd traced Jarod to earlier. He had already checked the front of the building, seeing no signs of his prey anywhere in sight. Hopefully, that meant the Pretender was off playing detective, trying to figure out exactly who might be next on Damon's list of victims.
He had calculated the risk, and Damon decided that even if Jarod figured out that Linda Whitman was his selected target, it would still work to his advantage. He would simply have to alter his plan a bit, improvise - something the Centre had taught him to do well. Of course, they'd taught Jarod the same, but he knew his adversary had one distinct disadvantage in his way - he still had a soul.
Placing a call to the police station, Damon asked for the crime lab, and then for Jarod. He was told by a sultry sounding voice that Jarod had called in sick. Smiling, Damon disconnected the call. So, the Pretender was out hunting - which meant it was time for him to go see just how much Jarod knew.
He was just about to step out of his car when he saw another dark sedan pull into the alley and take a position similar to his own at the opposite end of the narrow street. Curious, he waited to see who was in the car, wondering if there was a possibility that it might be Jarod. Then, as he saw the figure emerge, his eyes widened in a mixture of joy and disbelief. Apparently, Linda Whitman was going to live to see another day - the fates had dropped the sword with which Jarod could be mortally wounded right in his lap, and he was going to take full advantage.
*****
Miss Parker made her way from the alley up the back stairs of the apartment Emily had directed her to. On edge, she pulled her gun out of habit as she neared Jarod's door, keeping it concealed along the side of her right thigh.
When there was no answer to her knock, Parker put the gun away and pulled out her lock-pick, which she expertly maneuvered to spring the deadbolt. Quickly, she pulled her gun free of its holster again, and stepped through the door.
Many times she had found her way to the places Jarod temporarily called home, always, of course, several hours or days after he'd left. Somehow, stepping into a place she knew he was still living in, a place he would return to, gave her a different feeling. If she really thought about it, it was almost a feeling of anticipation.
Sighing, she put her gun away and looked around to see if there was any note from Emily. Seeing none, Parker paced anxiously, not certain what to do next. She hated feeling uncertain, and that was becoming her regular state of being these days. What to do about Angelo? About Lyle? And Jarod, always the question of what to do with Jarod.
Part of her couldn't wait to see him, mostly because she wanted him to know about Angelo. That's what she told herself, anyway. She just wanted to confide in someone that she knew who her brother was, and how happy that knowledge made her.
She would never admit that just the thought of seeing Jarod standing still, not running away from her or afraid of her, was something she also wanted very much.
Trying to change her chain of thought, Parker considered calling the Centre to check on Broots' search for Angelo, but decided against it. If Lyle was up to his usual games, the call would be intercepted, and he would know how frantic she was to find her brother. And that could only add to the danger Angelo as facing.
Still, her mind stayed on her brother, on the new and thriving connection they had started to build in the hospital. As her ulcer twinged, sending shooting pain through her abdomen, she distracted herself by drifting back over the stories she'd told Angelo about their mother, and remembering his movements as he'd scanned the photo album Jarod had sent, his hands gently touching the photo of their mother from her high school graduation.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, that Parker did not hear the nearly silent approach of the man who walked down the hall. He was, of course, careful to get such a result. He knew the woman's reputation well, and knew that she would be a worthy adversary. Keeping surprise on his side was the best defense to what he was certain would be Miss Parker's quality offense.
He didn't even try the knob, expecting that she had locked the door behind her, and instead, sank to his knees as he began to work the action of the dead bolt the same way he imagined Parker had done minutes earlier.
Correctly, he assumed that she had heard the last click of the movement, and he waited, anticipating what she would do next. Pulling her gun, moving cautiously out of sight range of the door, in case, just in case, whoever was coming in was not Jarod.
And that was when the door flew open. Parker's eyes locked on it, her gun raised, her body concealed behind the door jam of the kitchen. There was no movement. Nothing. Someone was playing a game with her - and she was certain it wasn't Jarod.
Parker tried to bide her time. Whoever it was clearly wanted her to expose herself - and though she wanted nothing more than to charge at the door and shove the barrel of the Smith & Wesson into the face of the person or persons standing outside, she resisted.
That was when the noise came from the back alley.
For a moment, just for a moment, Parker turned her head to see what had caused the noise, her eyes falling on two boys who were shooting at cans with a BB gun. Realizing she'd been distracted, Parker turned her eyes back around.
And came face to face with Damon.
He was on her before she could react, and it took a half-hearted defensive move to block his fist as it moved toward her. She absorbed the blow, riding it out of range of his arms, but not before her gun fell from her hands.
Now they stood three feet apart, Damon smiling at her, and Parker glaring at him with all the frigid glory the Ice Queen could muster.
"So, Miss Parker, at last we meet."
"Can't say it's a pleasure."
"Oh, but it will be, Miss Parker, at least, for me."
With that he sprang at her. Parker eluded his movement, her years of training serving her well. The fight raged, Parker landing a surprising number of blows, but Damon continued to come at her. She could not hold in a groan as he landed a powerful kick to her back, sending her flying toward the couch. Parker stumbled and nearly fell down onto the piece of furniture, but quickly pushed herself away just in time to watch as Damon landed on the soft cushions instead.
Grinning, he stood and advanced toward her again. Parker saw that her gun was lying cleanly exposed near the kitchen door, and she began to move toward it, quickly wondering if any of Jarod's neighbors were wondering what the hell was going on in the apartment above or next to them.
Damon saw Parker moving to her left, and he knew she wanted nothing more than to get her hands on the gleaming semi-automatic lying on the floor. He pretended not to know this. It gave her the confidence to keep moving. And as she took her chance and dove toward it, he extended his right leg, delivering a stunning kick to her stomach.
The kick would have felled any adversary for several moments, but Damon was not prepared for the reaction it caused in the woman he had been battling for more than 10 minutes. Parker seemed unable to breathe, her body doubling over as she sank to her knees. Pain was the only thing visible on her face, and he watched in wonder as she crumpled to the ground, her arms crossed over her abdomen.
She was still struggling, still fighting, but she was clearly in trouble. With clear futility, she reached for her gun, but Damon was already beside her and he easily kicked it out of her reach. She was lying on her side, left arm clutching her stomach. Short gasps of pain continued to escape her lips.
Curious, Damon reached over and pulled Parker toward him. She tried to push his hand away, but she was barely conscious and the effort was more instinctive than it was a real movement. That was when he saw the thin line of blood running from the corner of her mouth.
He could have taken her then, but somehow, Damon knew he had inflicted all the damage needed to enrage Jarod into a frenzy of revenge. It was not what he'd had planned - but as he checked her pulse and it found it fading, he knew that it was going to have the same result.
He didn't know why - but he knew Parker was dying, and though he would miss the pleasure of humbling her, his goal was accomplished.
*******
Emily had not anticipated the trouble she'd have with the lock, and she could hear Jarod's frustration from the other side of the door. Finally she got the key to work and in moments the door flung open. Jarod emerged, heading straight for the car, barely glancing at his sister.
"Jarod, what did you find out?"
"The bastard's been using an insurance company database to pick his victims. They all purchased homeowners or renter's insurance in the last 18 months - all indicating they were single and lived alone."
Emily watched the way Jarod moved as they both climbed into the car. Something was different than it had been before. There was an economy to his movements, as if he had temporarily turned into an efficient machine. Was that was "simming" did to him?
Jarod started the car and soon they were on the freeway, headed back to their apartment. That was when he continued relating the information he had discovered while inside Damon's head.
"I know who the next victim is. He picked her to try and break me." He glanced over and saw the confused look on Emily's face. How could she understand? How could she know the sickness that permeated the minds of the monsters that lived in the Centre?
"He picked someone who looks like Parker."
That forced Emily's eyes wide, and she felt a knot begin to coil in her stomach. This man sounded like pure evil to her, and that he would use Jarod's feelings for Parker - whatever they were - to try and destroy him made her sick.
Jarod glanced to his right to do a head check before he moved into their exit lane, and he saw something cross Emily's face. It was a mixture of fear and guilt, and he had a feeling whatever had caused it was going to add to his already intensely boiling anger.
"Emily, what is it?"
"I - Jarod, I didn't know. I mean, I had no idea this guy would know about her or -"
Jarod felt his skin go cold, and he pulled the car over, stopping next to the guardrail and turning his eyes toward Emily.
"About who?"
"Parker. S-she's - she's on her way here. I was worried about you and I called her, and she said you couldn't do kill him -"
"So she came to do it for me? And you let her?" Jarod could hear himself screaming at Emily, and part of him hated that he was doing it. But his fear was beginning to overwhelm him. He didn't know if he could kill Damon - not after all the emotions he'd faced when he'd thought he'd pulled the trigger last time. But he also knew he could not let the sick creature anywhere near Parker.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just didn't know what to do. I'm sorry, Jarod." She was crying, tears streaming down her face, but they were more from her own sense of disappointment than from any pain over Jarod's tone. She was letting him down. More than anything, Emily had spent her life wanting to find her brother and help him, and in just a few days, she had managed to do little more than make him feel guilty and cause him worry. Now she had endangered Parker, a woman to whom she knew she owed her freedom and her life.
Jarod saw his sister's tears and knew he had let his emotions get the better of him. She had just been trying to help, and he knew better than anyone that there was no stopping Parker once she made up her mind to do something. Softening, he reached over and placed his hand on Emily's shoulder.
"Where is she headed, Emily?"
"I told her where we were staying. I know she's been tracking you, but I knew we could trust her this time."
Jarod nodded, his hand moving reassuringly on her arm to add to the gentleness of his tone.
"You were right to trust her. Damon could hurt some people she cares about, and she won't want that to happen. Come on, we better get back and talk to her."
Emily tried to smile, feeling at least a little better about things as she wiped the remaining tears from her face. With one last smile in her direction, Jarod started the car and they headed off again toward the apartment.
They were there in less than five minutes, and as soon as they parked, the two headed inside. They were barely in the lobby before Mr. Jenson, the building superintendent, was there to greet them, a worried look on his face.
"Jarod, thank goodness you're all right."
"Mr. Jenson, what's wrong?"
"Oh, there was at terrible commotion. We thought you might be hurt. But then the noise just stopped, and well, no one answered -"
"In my apartment?"
"Yeah..."
Jarod didn't hear the rest of what the old man said because he was racing up the stairs, taking them two at a time and leaving Emily to follow as quickly as she could. He arrived at the door and found it locked and for a moment, he had a faint hope that Mr. Jenson had been wrong. The noises had come from somewhere else - they had to have.
Then he opened the door. He could see that a struggle had taken place in the living room, and he was just heading toward the bedroom when something near the kitchen caught his eye. Turning, he looked with horrified eyes at Parker's unconscious form lying on the floor.
Quickly, he moved to her, urgently checking for a pulse. It was there, but it was weak, and he knew that whatever had happened, Parker was in desperate trouble. The doctor inside of his mind took over, checking her body for injury. When his hand grazed over her abdomen, he felt something wrong, and he unfastened her the buttons of her shirt. He stared down at the dark purple stain that spread across her skin from the inside - a sure sign that she was bleeding internally.
Emily ran into the room, and as she glanced over Jarod's shoulder, he heard her intake of breath and he could sense panic rising up inside of her.
"Emily, call 9-1-1. Now!"
Trying to compose herself, the young woman ran to the phone, dialing the three-lifesaving numbers. Soon she was spewing information to the operator on the other end.
Jarod ran into the bedroom for a blanket, and as he was pulling it over Parker, she stirred, her eyes barely opening. He saw her grimace as pain overtook her, and he leaned close to her, hoping his words would give her some comfort.
"The ambulance is on the way, Parker. Just hang on."
Her only response was a single whisper.
"Damon..."
******
Sydney had kept journals on his patients for his entire career, and those he counseled at the Centre were no exception. Often, he had filled book after book with thoughts on how to treat them, on theories about what had caused their traumas.
In 1970, he had filled nearly 10 journals with information, and it had taken him several hours of searching to find the book he was looking for. He scanned the pages until his eyes fell on the passage he had been seeking.
"Catherine seems plagued by recurring dreams of a woman named Elizabeth. She recognizes the woman as someone close to her, and feels a strong emotional connection to the figure, yet she is unable to identify how or why she knows the person. Is she someone from her childhood? A forgotten friend who now seems suddenly important? No, Catherine says the woman looks like her. So who is she, and why is Catherine only now beginning to remember her?"
Sighing, Sydney closed the book. He had spent thirty years ignoring the pain of the two people he loved most in the world. Even now, with Nicholas and Michelle back in his life, there was no denying how much Parker and Jarod meant to him. They had been his reason to live after Jacob's death.
Somehow, he knew that finding Elizabeth was something that he had to do for Parker. It was time to put Catherine's ghosts to rest - and to give her daughter some peace, if there was still a chance for that.
