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Chapter or Story
Disclaimer and Distribution notice in Parts 1 and 6.
COPYRIGHT 2000 by R. Franke
LAVENDER
Part VII
by R. Franke
One month later
Jarod answered the ringing telephone. "Simulations-R-Us, how may I help you?"
He could hear Parker’s snort of amusement as she replied. "You’re not seriously going to name your company that, are you?"
Jarod smiled. "Worked for the giraffe, didn’t it?"
"Yeah, and he’s got a lot of high-priced lawyers who are going to want to talk to you," Parker said. "But that’s not why I’m calling. I’ve checked Centre records. It was Lyle in that barn."
Jarod shifted uneasily in his chair. "Maybe I’m being paranoid, but this is too easy. Why kill Lyle? And why haven’t we heard anything more from the Triumvirate?"
Parker sighed in frustration. "I’ve been asking myself the same questions. But there are no missing bodies, and I had Angelo make copies of everybody’s medical records before I came back, just in case my little trick gave anybody else ideas."
"That reminds me, where is he? I thought he’d come back when Debbie and the twins did."
"I thought," Parker answered slowly, "he was doing something for you."
"I haven’t asked him to do anything," Jarod replied.
"Debbie told me he left as soon as Father Moore came."
Jarod swore softly. "Any ideas?"
He could hear Parker’s muffled voice as she covered the mouthpiece of the telephone. "Ben, no. Put that down. I said, put it down now. I said now, young man." She uncovered the mouthpiece. "At this point, no. Are we still picking you up tomorrow?"
Jarod grinned. "Sounds like loads of fun at the Parker place. And yes, I will see you tomorrow," he added quickly as Parker growled impatiently. He hesitated. "Good luck with the kids," he added as he hung up.
Jarod picked up the letter on his desk. I believe a meeting between us could be to our mutual benefit. Board the Cape May-Lewes Ferry tonight. Tell no one, especially Miss Parker. Crassus. He tapped the letter against his teeth in contemplation, then grabbed his jacket and left.
***
"Mrs. Matheson?"
"Yes, may I help you?"
The woman at the door showed her identification. "I’d like to ask you a few questions about Delilah. And Samson."
***
Sydney stopped as the guard led him into the Visitor’s Room. "Caesar," he said flatly.
"Sydney," Caesar smiled. "That’s hardly the joyous greeting I’d hoped for, old friend."
***
Parker picked up her mother’s journal. The Bowmans do seem to be wonderful people, she read. Lyle Bowman especially seems to be a fine, upstanding, salt-of-the-earth type. I am sure they will be wonderful parents for my child, whichever one does not stay with me. I wish we could send both, but the Triumvirate will be suspicious if both of my children are stillborn. We have decided that whichever twin is born first will stay with me. I just hope that I will be able to protect him, and give him a life that is even a quarter as wonderful as the life my youngest will have.
Parker sighed. "You never were very good at reading people, were you Mother?" She continued to read. Although I could say her as well, as it appears I will have a son and a daughter, instead of two boys as we thought originally. One more month, and we will know for sure.
***
"I’m curious," Jarod said as the heavyset man stopped beside him. "Why would the number two man in the Triumvirate want to meet with me? I can’t exactly be considered a friend."
Crassus smiled. "All three members of the Triumvirate have equal amounts of power and responsibility."
"But some animals are more equal than others," Jarod answered. "That still doesn’t answer my question." Crassus took a photograph from his coat pocket and handed it to Jarod. "A very pretty young lady," Jarod replied, handing the picture back.
Crassus smiled again as he replaced the photograph in his pocket. "My eldest granddaughter. She and her husband are about to have their first child. I haven’t seen her since she was five years old."
Jarod’s eyebrows rose. "A very lucky young lady as well."
"There’s no need to be insulting," Crassus commented mildly.
"True," Jarod replied.
Crassus turned to look out over the rail. "My son left," he continued, extracting a cigar from his pocket and lighting it, "after my daughter and her husband were killed in an explosion meant for me. He said he didn’t want his children raised in the same poisonous atmosphere of suspicion and hatred he grew up in. It’s strange," Crassus mused, "up to that point I’d considered myself a fairly decent father. Their mother had left when they were fairly young." He smiled ruefully. "She had this image of herself as a glamorous jet-setter. Two young children and a husband who has always been something of a plodder didn’t exactly fit the lifestyle she thought she should have. Her jet crash-landed eventually."
"A touching story," Jarod replied evenly.
Crassus turned to face Jarod. "You’ve been a doctor. Diagnose me."
Jarod raised his eyebrow. "Well," he said, "judging by the fact that you’re at least 150 pounds overweight, smoke vile cigars, drink heavily, and have very poor blood circulation, indicated by the blue tinge to your lips and fingernails, I would have to say you’re a heart attack waiting to happen. In fact, I’m surprised you’re even alive at your age."
"Very good. In point of fact, I’ve had three bypass operations and a pacemaker installed within the last five years."
"I can’t pretend to work miraculous cures," Jarod replied. "Or rather, I could, but it wouldn’t work."
"I’m not asking for a miracle, just for a chance to get to know my grandchildren and great-grandchild before I die." Crassus smiled with bitter humor. "If I died on this accursed boat, the only mourners at my funeral would be my colleagues making sure I was safely dead."
"So you want out of the Triumvirate," Jarod stated. "That still doesn’t explain why you contacted me, or why you don’t want Parker involved."
Crassus shrugged. "I contacted you because you’re the best. As for Miss Parker," he removed another picture from his coat and handed it to Jarod. "Let’s just say there were reasons the Triumvirate didn’t interfere with her takeover of the Centre."
Jarod gripped the photograph in his hands tightly. "There has to be a reasonable explanation for this."
Crassus shrugged again. "Perhaps. Nevertheless, the fact remains that Cox has often acted as a sort of Minister without Portfolio for us. Now he is meeting with Miss Parker, a meeting I imagine you were not privy to."
Jarod shook his head. "There has to be a reasonable explanation," he repeated.
Crassus tossed his cigar over the rail as the ferry pulled into its slip. "As I said, perhaps."
***
"Good morning, Miss Parker."
"What do you want?" Parker growled.
Mr. Cox smiled. "Aren’t you going to invite me in?"
"No," Parker replied shortly. "Why are you here?"
"Proof," Cox answered, holding up a manila envelope. "I took these photos aboard the Cape May-Lewes Ferry last night." Parker snatched the envelope from him and ripped it open. "I presume you recognize the man Jarod is meeting with?"
"Crassus," Parker breathed. "That son of a bitch." She looked sharply at Cox. "Who are you working for? Pompey?"
Cox raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I’m working for the Triumvirate?"
Parker snorted. "I didn’t say you were working for the Triumvirate as a whole. Despite the monolithic image they try to project, most of the Triumvirate’s time is spent trying to get power over each other." She smiled grimly. "I grew up in the Centre, and worked there my entire adult life. Believe me, you didn’t survive long if you couldn’t learn to detect the stench of Triumvirate infighting. Now get off my property," she snarled, slamming the door in Cox’s face.
Parker looked again at the pictures Cox had given her. She shook her head sharply, then grabbed her gun and began fastening her holster in the preferred position at the small of her back. She stood for a moment, then replaced her gun and drew out two small, non-metallic throwing knives. It took her only a moment to strap one to her back so the hilt was just covered by her collar. She strapped the other one to the inside of her right thigh, high enough to be concealed by her skirt, yet low enough for her to reach easily if she needed to. A quick check in the mirror detected no betraying glimpses of the knives as she moved. She grabbed her keys and rapidly walked out the door, absently noting the double beep as the alarm system automatically engaged.
Parker started the car and just sat for a moment, listening to the low rumble of the V-12 engine. She put the car in gear and backed out of her driveway. She drove sedately through the streets of Blue Cove until she came to Broots’ house. An impatient blast from the horn brought the technician scurrying out.
"Miss Parker, you’re driving?" Broots asked. "Where’s Sam?"
"It’s his son’s birthday," Parker replied. "He’ll join us later. Get in." Broots reached for the passenger-side door. "In the back," she ordered.
Broots scrambled into the back. "I never knew you had a Jaguar."
"It was my father’s. He never drove it." Parker pulled up in front of Jarod’s apartment building. "Go fetch the lab rat."
"There’s no need," Jarod answered, slipping into the passenger seat. "The lab rat’s right here."
"Sleep well last night?" Parker asked.
"Like a baby," Jarod replied.
***
"You’re looking well."
"So are you. Being a Senator’s wife must agree with you, Liz."
Liz looked away. "Please don’t, Sam. Not today."
Sam looked at the ground. "You’re right. I’m sorry." He took a deep breath. "How are the boys? Ethan started school this year, didn’t he?"
A small smile flitted across her face. "Yes. Andrew’s walking now," she added.
"Good, good," Sam replied. He looked up at Liz. "You ready?" She held out her hand for him to take. They walked across the grass and knelt down by the polished marble gravestone.
***
"How’s it going, Bronkoski?"
"Morning, Lieutenant," Bronkoski answered. "Kind of slow. Had one old boy doing eighty in a Mustang, but everybody else’s been keeping it below sixty-five."
"Oh well," Lieutenant Mauldin replied. "It’s early yet. Wait until-" he stopped as a Jaguar rocketed past them. The two officers looked at the radar display. "Go," the Mauldin ordered. Bronkoski nodded, flipping on his lights and siren as he pulled out in pursuit.
***
"Shit!" Parker cursed as they police cruiser she had just passed erupted from the median strip, lights blazing. She quickly slowed and pulled off to the side of the road. "Registration’s in the glove compartment," she snapped as she pulled out her license. Jarod silently handed her the registration. She held them out the window as the state trooper approached. "How fast, officer?"
Bronkoski took the two items. "I clocked you at one hundred and nineteen miles per hour, Ms," he glanced down at the license, "Parker?" He peered closely at Parker. "If you’ll pardon me for a moment, ma’am?" he touched his fingers to his hat brim and nodded, then walked back to his cruiser.
Parker smiled slightly. "It seems Gary Cooper is alive and well."
"If I hear ‘Do not forsake me, O my darling’, I’m out of here," Broots declared. Jarod and Parker chuckled, then sobered as they watched an unmarked police car pull up behind the cruiser.
"How many points is this, Parker?" Jarod asked.
"Too many," she replied.
"If they take your license away this time, they might not give it back," Jarod commented. Parker said nothing as the two state troopers walked back to her car.
"If you’ll sign these two ma’am," Bronkoski said. "I’m citing you for two counts of failure to wear a seat belt, one for you and one for your front seat passenger. The penalty is twenty-five dollars per offense and no points on your driving record," he recited. "Signing is not an admission of guilt but merely acknowledges that I have given you these citations and explained the charges to you." Parker looked down at the seat belts stretched across her and Jarod’s bodies, then took the citations and the pen Bronkoski offered. She signed and handed them back to him. "Thank you, Miss Parker," he said, taking the citations and returning her license and registration.
"A while back," Mauldin spoke, "I had to tell an elderly Oriental couple we’d found their youngest daughter’s body. They’d scrimped and saved for years to get to this country so their children, including Mai Lin, could grow up healthy and safe." The lieutenant paused, seeming not to notice Parker’s sharp intake of breath or the look exchanged by Broots and Jarod. "I can’t bring their daughter back, but recently I was able to let them know that the man who had hurt her would never be able to hurt anyone else, ever again. Hopefully it provided a modicum of comfort in their grief."
"I just wish I could have done something sooner," Parker replied.
Mauldin smiled wryly. "There are a lot of cops in the jurisdictions around here who are grateful for what you’ve done. In this county alone we’ve been able to close almost a third of our unsolved case files."
Parker blinked in surprise. "I hadn’t realized."
"Stop by the Brick House up in Blue Cove, or Snug Harbor here in Centreville, or any of a dozen other cop bars in the area, and you’ll find somebody who’ll buy you a beer or two," Mauldin said. "In the meantime though, I would appreciate it if you kept your velocity at a reasonable level, at least while you’re in my jurisdiction."
"Of course," Parker answered. "And Lieutenant? Thank you."
"Ma’am." Mauldin and Bronkoski touched their fingertips to their hat brims in salute as Parker pulled away.
***
Broots twisted in his seat to watch the dwindling forms of the two officers. "Huh," he commented. "Miss Parker-"
"Not now, Broots," Parker said distractedly.
***
"This plan of yours has too many variables in it, Lyle," Crassus spoke, puffing nervously on his cigar. "If Parker and Jarod don’t react the way you’ve predicted-"
"Then we’re dead," Caesar snapped. "There are too many people out there who want our heads to even think we’d have a chance at anything resembling a peaceful retirement."
"Gentlemen, please," Lyle said. "My sister and the lab rat both grew up in the Centre. Believe me when I say there is no better place for inculcating an almost pathological level of paranoia, especially about your nearest and dearest. We merely set the stage. Their own fears will do the rest. Then, while they’re occupied with trying to destroy each other, we move back in."
"I’m still not comfortable with that freak being here," Crassus growled, jabbing his cigar at Angelo, who smiled tentatively back at him.
"He is quite safe," Cox answered. "With my new techniques his loyalty to the Triumvirate is assured."
"At least, that’s the theory," Caesar said wryly. "What I’m more concerned with," he added, "is whether your new techniques really will ensure their loyalty without the concomitant loss of their abilities. Success with a brain damaged empath is hardly what I would call the most convincing of examples."
"Oh, believe me," Cox smiled. "When I’m finished with them, the only difference between the old Jarod and Miss Parker, and the new, will be their complete and total loyalty to the Triumvirate."
COPYRIGHT 2000 by R. Franke
Part VII
by R. Franke
One month later
Jarod answered the ringing telephone. "Simulations-R-Us, how may I help you?"
He could hear Parker’s snort of amusement as she replied. "You’re not seriously going to name your company that, are you?"
Jarod smiled. "Worked for the giraffe, didn’t it?"
"Yeah, and he’s got a lot of high-priced lawyers who are going to want to talk to you," Parker said. "But that’s not why I’m calling. I’ve checked Centre records. It was Lyle in that barn."
Jarod shifted uneasily in his chair. "Maybe I’m being paranoid, but this is too easy. Why kill Lyle? And why haven’t we heard anything more from the Triumvirate?"
Parker sighed in frustration. "I’ve been asking myself the same questions. But there are no missing bodies, and I had Angelo make copies of everybody’s medical records before I came back, just in case my little trick gave anybody else ideas."
"That reminds me, where is he? I thought he’d come back when Debbie and the twins did."
"I thought," Parker answered slowly, "he was doing something for you."
"I haven’t asked him to do anything," Jarod replied.
"Debbie told me he left as soon as Father Moore came."
Jarod swore softly. "Any ideas?"
He could hear Parker’s muffled voice as she covered the mouthpiece of the telephone. "Ben, no. Put that down. I said, put it down now. I said now, young man." She uncovered the mouthpiece. "At this point, no. Are we still picking you up tomorrow?"
Jarod grinned. "Sounds like loads of fun at the Parker place. And yes, I will see you tomorrow," he added quickly as Parker growled impatiently. He hesitated. "Good luck with the kids," he added as he hung up.
Jarod picked up the letter on his desk. I believe a meeting between us could be to our mutual benefit. Board the Cape May-Lewes Ferry tonight. Tell no one, especially Miss Parker. Crassus. He tapped the letter against his teeth in contemplation, then grabbed his jacket and left.
***
"Mrs. Matheson?"
"Yes, may I help you?"
The woman at the door showed her identification. "I’d like to ask you a few questions about Delilah. And Samson."
***
Sydney stopped as the guard led him into the Visitor’s Room. "Caesar," he said flatly.
"Sydney," Caesar smiled. "That’s hardly the joyous greeting I’d hoped for, old friend."
***
Parker picked up her mother’s journal. The Bowmans do seem to be wonderful people, she read. Lyle Bowman especially seems to be a fine, upstanding, salt-of-the-earth type. I am sure they will be wonderful parents for my child, whichever one does not stay with me. I wish we could send both, but the Triumvirate will be suspicious if both of my children are stillborn. We have decided that whichever twin is born first will stay with me. I just hope that I will be able to protect him, and give him a life that is even a quarter as wonderful as the life my youngest will have.
Parker sighed. "You never were very good at reading people, were you Mother?" She continued to read. Although I could say her as well, as it appears I will have a son and a daughter, instead of two boys as we thought originally. One more month, and we will know for sure.
***
"I’m curious," Jarod said as the heavyset man stopped beside him. "Why would the number two man in the Triumvirate want to meet with me? I can’t exactly be considered a friend."
Crassus smiled. "All three members of the Triumvirate have equal amounts of power and responsibility."
"But some animals are more equal than others," Jarod answered. "That still doesn’t answer my question." Crassus took a photograph from his coat pocket and handed it to Jarod. "A very pretty young lady," Jarod replied, handing the picture back.
Crassus smiled again as he replaced the photograph in his pocket. "My eldest granddaughter. She and her husband are about to have their first child. I haven’t seen her since she was five years old."
Jarod’s eyebrows rose. "A very lucky young lady as well."
"There’s no need to be insulting," Crassus commented mildly.
"True," Jarod replied.
Crassus turned to look out over the rail. "My son left," he continued, extracting a cigar from his pocket and lighting it, "after my daughter and her husband were killed in an explosion meant for me. He said he didn’t want his children raised in the same poisonous atmosphere of suspicion and hatred he grew up in. It’s strange," Crassus mused, "up to that point I’d considered myself a fairly decent father. Their mother had left when they were fairly young." He smiled ruefully. "She had this image of herself as a glamorous jet-setter. Two young children and a husband who has always been something of a plodder didn’t exactly fit the lifestyle she thought she should have. Her jet crash-landed eventually."
"A touching story," Jarod replied evenly.
Crassus turned to face Jarod. "You’ve been a doctor. Diagnose me."
Jarod raised his eyebrow. "Well," he said, "judging by the fact that you’re at least 150 pounds overweight, smoke vile cigars, drink heavily, and have very poor blood circulation, indicated by the blue tinge to your lips and fingernails, I would have to say you’re a heart attack waiting to happen. In fact, I’m surprised you’re even alive at your age."
"Very good. In point of fact, I’ve had three bypass operations and a pacemaker installed within the last five years."
"I can’t pretend to work miraculous cures," Jarod replied. "Or rather, I could, but it wouldn’t work."
"I’m not asking for a miracle, just for a chance to get to know my grandchildren and great-grandchild before I die." Crassus smiled with bitter humor. "If I died on this accursed boat, the only mourners at my funeral would be my colleagues making sure I was safely dead."
"So you want out of the Triumvirate," Jarod stated. "That still doesn’t explain why you contacted me, or why you don’t want Parker involved."
Crassus shrugged. "I contacted you because you’re the best. As for Miss Parker," he removed another picture from his coat and handed it to Jarod. "Let’s just say there were reasons the Triumvirate didn’t interfere with her takeover of the Centre."
Jarod gripped the photograph in his hands tightly. "There has to be a reasonable explanation for this."
Crassus shrugged again. "Perhaps. Nevertheless, the fact remains that Cox has often acted as a sort of Minister without Portfolio for us. Now he is meeting with Miss Parker, a meeting I imagine you were not privy to."
Jarod shook his head. "There has to be a reasonable explanation," he repeated.
Crassus tossed his cigar over the rail as the ferry pulled into its slip. "As I said, perhaps."
***
"Good morning, Miss Parker."
"What do you want?" Parker growled.
Mr. Cox smiled. "Aren’t you going to invite me in?"
"No," Parker replied shortly. "Why are you here?"
"Proof," Cox answered, holding up a manila envelope. "I took these photos aboard the Cape May-Lewes Ferry last night." Parker snatched the envelope from him and ripped it open. "I presume you recognize the man Jarod is meeting with?"
"Crassus," Parker breathed. "That son of a bitch." She looked sharply at Cox. "Who are you working for? Pompey?"
Cox raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I’m working for the Triumvirate?"
Parker snorted. "I didn’t say you were working for the Triumvirate as a whole. Despite the monolithic image they try to project, most of the Triumvirate’s time is spent trying to get power over each other." She smiled grimly. "I grew up in the Centre, and worked there my entire adult life. Believe me, you didn’t survive long if you couldn’t learn to detect the stench of Triumvirate infighting. Now get off my property," she snarled, slamming the door in Cox’s face.
Parker looked again at the pictures Cox had given her. She shook her head sharply, then grabbed her gun and began fastening her holster in the preferred position at the small of her back. She stood for a moment, then replaced her gun and drew out two small, non-metallic throwing knives. It took her only a moment to strap one to her back so the hilt was just covered by her collar. She strapped the other one to the inside of her right thigh, high enough to be concealed by her skirt, yet low enough for her to reach easily if she needed to. A quick check in the mirror detected no betraying glimpses of the knives as she moved. She grabbed her keys and rapidly walked out the door, absently noting the double beep as the alarm system automatically engaged.
Parker started the car and just sat for a moment, listening to the low rumble of the V-12 engine. She put the car in gear and backed out of her driveway. She drove sedately through the streets of Blue Cove until she came to Broots’ house. An impatient blast from the horn brought the technician scurrying out.
"Miss Parker, you’re driving?" Broots asked. "Where’s Sam?"
"It’s his son’s birthday," Parker replied. "He’ll join us later. Get in." Broots reached for the passenger-side door. "In the back," she ordered.
Broots scrambled into the back. "I never knew you had a Jaguar."
"It was my father’s. He never drove it." Parker pulled up in front of Jarod’s apartment building. "Go fetch the lab rat."
"There’s no need," Jarod answered, slipping into the passenger seat. "The lab rat’s right here."
"Sleep well last night?" Parker asked.
"Like a baby," Jarod replied.
***
"You’re looking well."
"So are you. Being a Senator’s wife must agree with you, Liz."
Liz looked away. "Please don’t, Sam. Not today."
Sam looked at the ground. "You’re right. I’m sorry." He took a deep breath. "How are the boys? Ethan started school this year, didn’t he?"
A small smile flitted across her face. "Yes. Andrew’s walking now," she added.
"Good, good," Sam replied. He looked up at Liz. "You ready?" She held out her hand for him to take. They walked across the grass and knelt down by the polished marble gravestone.
***
"How’s it going, Bronkoski?"
"Morning, Lieutenant," Bronkoski answered. "Kind of slow. Had one old boy doing eighty in a Mustang, but everybody else’s been keeping it below sixty-five."
"Oh well," Lieutenant Mauldin replied. "It’s early yet. Wait until-" he stopped as a Jaguar rocketed past them. The two officers looked at the radar display. "Go," the Mauldin ordered. Bronkoski nodded, flipping on his lights and siren as he pulled out in pursuit.
***
"Shit!" Parker cursed as they police cruiser she had just passed erupted from the median strip, lights blazing. She quickly slowed and pulled off to the side of the road. "Registration’s in the glove compartment," she snapped as she pulled out her license. Jarod silently handed her the registration. She held them out the window as the state trooper approached. "How fast, officer?"
Bronkoski took the two items. "I clocked you at one hundred and nineteen miles per hour, Ms," he glanced down at the license, "Parker?" He peered closely at Parker. "If you’ll pardon me for a moment, ma’am?" he touched his fingers to his hat brim and nodded, then walked back to his cruiser.
Parker smiled slightly. "It seems Gary Cooper is alive and well."
"If I hear ‘Do not forsake me, O my darling’, I’m out of here," Broots declared. Jarod and Parker chuckled, then sobered as they watched an unmarked police car pull up behind the cruiser.
"How many points is this, Parker?" Jarod asked.
"Too many," she replied.
"If they take your license away this time, they might not give it back," Jarod commented. Parker said nothing as the two state troopers walked back to her car.
"If you’ll sign these two ma’am," Bronkoski said. "I’m citing you for two counts of failure to wear a seat belt, one for you and one for your front seat passenger. The penalty is twenty-five dollars per offense and no points on your driving record," he recited. "Signing is not an admission of guilt but merely acknowledges that I have given you these citations and explained the charges to you." Parker looked down at the seat belts stretched across her and Jarod’s bodies, then took the citations and the pen Bronkoski offered. She signed and handed them back to him. "Thank you, Miss Parker," he said, taking the citations and returning her license and registration.
"A while back," Mauldin spoke, "I had to tell an elderly Oriental couple we’d found their youngest daughter’s body. They’d scrimped and saved for years to get to this country so their children, including Mai Lin, could grow up healthy and safe." The lieutenant paused, seeming not to notice Parker’s sharp intake of breath or the look exchanged by Broots and Jarod. "I can’t bring their daughter back, but recently I was able to let them know that the man who had hurt her would never be able to hurt anyone else, ever again. Hopefully it provided a modicum of comfort in their grief."
"I just wish I could have done something sooner," Parker replied.
Mauldin smiled wryly. "There are a lot of cops in the jurisdictions around here who are grateful for what you’ve done. In this county alone we’ve been able to close almost a third of our unsolved case files."
Parker blinked in surprise. "I hadn’t realized."
"Stop by the Brick House up in Blue Cove, or Snug Harbor here in Centreville, or any of a dozen other cop bars in the area, and you’ll find somebody who’ll buy you a beer or two," Mauldin said. "In the meantime though, I would appreciate it if you kept your velocity at a reasonable level, at least while you’re in my jurisdiction."
"Of course," Parker answered. "And Lieutenant? Thank you."
"Ma’am." Mauldin and Bronkoski touched their fingertips to their hat brims in salute as Parker pulled away.
***
Broots twisted in his seat to watch the dwindling forms of the two officers. "Huh," he commented. "Miss Parker-"
"Not now, Broots," Parker said distractedly.
***
"This plan of yours has too many variables in it, Lyle," Crassus spoke, puffing nervously on his cigar. "If Parker and Jarod don’t react the way you’ve predicted-"
"Then we’re dead," Caesar snapped. "There are too many people out there who want our heads to even think we’d have a chance at anything resembling a peaceful retirement."
"Gentlemen, please," Lyle said. "My sister and the lab rat both grew up in the Centre. Believe me when I say there is no better place for inculcating an almost pathological level of paranoia, especially about your nearest and dearest. We merely set the stage. Their own fears will do the rest. Then, while they’re occupied with trying to destroy each other, we move back in."
"I’m still not comfortable with that freak being here," Crassus growled, jabbing his cigar at Angelo, who smiled tentatively back at him.
"He is quite safe," Cox answered. "With my new techniques his loyalty to the Triumvirate is assured."
"At least, that’s the theory," Caesar said wryly. "What I’m more concerned with," he added, "is whether your new techniques really will ensure their loyalty without the concomitant loss of their abilities. Success with a brain damaged empath is hardly what I would call the most convincing of examples."
"Oh, believe me," Cox smiled. "When I’m finished with them, the only difference between the old Jarod and Miss Parker, and the new, will be their complete and total loyalty to the Triumvirate."
