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Disclaimer: I don't own Jarod, Miss Parker, or "Pretender." Thanx for not suing!
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When The Past Comes Back To Haunt You
(2/5)
by Oriana Lemke



Jarod had no trouble getting into Parker's house. After all, it wasn't like this was the first time he'd picked her locks.

He made his way through her home, just as he always did, slowly walking through the rooms, absorbing that sense of Parker he always got from the place. He never really understood why this place meant so much to him. Whenever he'd gone through a difficult pretend, or found out that Sydney or one of the others had been hurt, he'd come here, while she was away, to be comforted. It was so healing, to come and just look. Jarod would wander aimlessly, like a man visiting his childhood home; the one stop he made every time was the mantle, to look at the pictures of Parker's mother.

He stopped inside one small room, intending to say hello to a certain white rabbit. Jarod remembered how pleased he had been, during one visit, to discover that Parker had kept it as a pet. Now, as he looked at the two cages, side by side, Jarod didn't feel happy at all. Those two rabbits were like physical proof of what had happened last night, and only made the situation even more real to him. He could feel anger rushing up in him, anger towards the creep frightening Parker, and anger at himself for not being there when she needed him.

~~~~~~~~~

Sydney felt immediate concern as he neared Miss Parker's office. The door was ajar, there was a broken mug and spilled coffee on the floor, and though the lights were off, he could sense that Parker was inside. Sydney walked slowly inside, not wanting to startle her but needing to be sure that she was all right.

As he walked inside towards the desk, Sydney noticed flowers scattered on the floor near the far wall. Just another question for Parker to answer. The chair behind her desk was turned away from him, but he could hear something that sounded vaguely like crying.

"Miss Parker?" He made his way around the chair. Sydney could barely make her out in the darkness, but he could tell by the tilt of her head, that she was looking over at the fallen flowers. Wanting to get a better look at her, he walked back over to the door, and reached for the light switch.

"Please, Syd, don't turn on the lights." Her words were clear enough, but Sydney couldn't help but notice how weak she sounded, which certainly didn't comfort him. He'd watched this girl grow up, and the one word he'd never associated with her was weak.

"Miss Parker, what's happened here?"

"Nothing, Syd. It's nothing, really. I just...I have a headache, is all. The bright lights only seem to make it worse." She was less than convincing, and they both knew it, but Sydney decided not to force the issue. He knew her well enough to know that pushing would only make her withdraw completely.

"All right, then. Is there anything I can get you? A cold compress, some aspirin perhaps?"

"No, Syd, really. I'm fine. Go ahead to your own office. I'll, um, I'll be there in an hour for our meeting, okay?"

"Right, see you in an hour." Sydney walked out, quietly closing the door behind him. Parker sat in the dark for nearly half an hour, using it as a shield against any cameras, and hoping that any one of three wishes were reality: the roses would simply be gone when the lights were turned on, that Jarod would soon call, or -at the very least- that this stranger wasn't watching her now. Finally, Parker stood from her chair and walked to the door. She jumped slightly at the sound of ceramic shards crunching under her thick heel. With a hand shaking a bit more than she liked, she flicked the light switch on.

There, at the far end of her office, were scattered on the floor a dozen roses and a bit of baby's breath, laying exactly as they had after she'd thrown the bouquet against the wall. Forcing herself to be strong, Parker walked over to the floral mess, and picked up a small white enveloped hidden beneath red petals. She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath before opening the envelope and reading the small white card.

Not much longer now.

The same deep red ink, the same penmanship. Suddenly the headache she'd pleaded earlier was much more real, and it seemed her nerves decided to throw in a queasy stomach for good measure. Parker moved around the room, trying to spot any cameras. She couldn't help herself. She didn't like feeling so out of control.

Eventually, Parker stopped. She went to her desk, and picked up her cellphone, intending to call Westmoore Inn, the only decent hotel in the area, to make a reservation. She was just giving herself some breathing space away from prying eyes, she defended herself. She wasn't running away, like Jarod had suggested.

Jarod...Much as Parker hated to admit it, she did wish that he would call. She'd felt more at ease last night, while she was on the phone with him. It was nice knowing someone was worried about her, even if it was a constant teaser like Jarod. Parker stared at the phone, wishing she had a number to reach him at. Where was he now, she wondered. What innocent people was he -as always- trying to protect?

~~~~~~~~~

Jarod left the rabbits behind, choosing the living room as the first for him to search for cameras and wires. A small scroll on the floor near the couch caught his eye, and he bent down to grab it. He unrolled it, already knowing what it was. Jarod found the ink more odd than the note itself. His eyes narrowed as he peered closer. It couldn't possibly be...

"Blood," Jarod muttered. The man was actually using blood as ink. Who was this freak? Grimacing, Jarod crumpled the note in his hand, then walked into the kitchen and threw it in the trash. The last thing Parker needed was to come home and find that note, to remind her of last night's events. Jarod was thankful that she'd gone into work today. Not only did it give him a chance to check the house out, but he felt better knowing that she was someplace as well-guarded as the Centre.

~~~~~~~~~

Parker had never gotten around to making her reservation at the inn. By the time she'd thought to look at the time, Parker was already 20 minutes late for her usual meeting with Broots and Sydney. She sighed, and placed her cellphone in her pocket. She felt ridiculous, waiting for Jarod to call her like that. Considering her behavior earlier, Parker knew that Syd would be concerned of her tardiness, so she made her way down the halls of the Centre at a speedy rate. Still, she tried not to look rushed, but in control. Parker, after all, had an image to uphold.

Sydney didn't say anything, though relief was written clearly on his face upon her arrival. The meeting was nothing new, just the same old information Broots would drone on about as Syd added some input once and awhile. It felt nice, being back in the swing of things, and Parker soon was adding her own views, as well as arguing Broots' opinions with that bitchy manner she was so proud of.

Broots was downloading some pictures he'd found of Jarod in a Georgia newspaper -already a week old, and no doubt by now a stale lead- for the others to see. While he typed commands into his laptop, Syd and Parker tried to put a dent in the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated over their latest travels after Jarod. She was so busy keeping up with signing all the papers Sydney were handing her, that when her cellphone rang she didn't even think before answering.

"What?" she snapped, then froze. What if it was him? Sure enough, there was nothing but heavy breathing on the other end. Parker got up from her seat and walked to the other side of the room, facing a corner before beginning to speak again.

"This is you, isn't it?" No answer, just the same heavy breathing.

"Mind telling me just how the hell you got into my office?" she asked in a harsh whisper. There was that familiar chuckle, then silence again. Parker didn't say anything more, but waited for him to make the next move. Finally, he spoke.

"He doesn't know how to mind his own business, does he?" Confused, Parker just shook her head. Who was he talking about? "You know, he doesn't care about your happiness. Not really. Not like I do. He just keeps sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong." His voice sounded angry, almost jealous. "For a genius, he can truly be moronic sometimes. He believes he needs to protect you from me." Then it struck her, like a bolt of lightning. Jarod. He was talking about Jarod.

"Not a very big fan of Jarod, are we?" she hissed.

"Oh, don't worry about that. He'll be out of our way, soon enough." Parker's eyes widened.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice was tense.

"You know, I can almost picture him now: wandering around your home, searching for clues to my whereabouts. The knight in shining armor, coming to your rescue."

"You're watching him, aren't you?" she breathed. "You're using the cameras you've set up in my house." Another chuckled echoed in her ear.

"My dear, I don't need cameras to see him. Not from where I'm standing." Parker's face reddened with instant fear and anger. Without another word, she ended the call, then dialed in her home phone number.

Back at Parker's house, the phone began to ring. Jarod walked over to it, wondering if this creep would have the audacity to leave a message. He glanced over at the answering machine as it clicked on. Meanwhile, at the Centre, Parker had already grabbed her jacket from her chair and thrown it around her on her way to the elevator, leaving a startled and completely lost Broots and Sydney behind. The machine hadn't picked up until she was in the elevator and on her way to the main level. Now, she was running out the door and to her car, digging for her keys in the deep pockets of her jacket.

"Jarod!" Parker's voice came shouting over the speaker. "Jarod, I know you're there. Pick up!" Confused by how she knew this, but pushed by the urgency in her voice, Jarod picked up the cordless phone and activated it.

"Parker? What's--"

"There's no time for that!" she yelled. She was already far from the Centre, where her screeching tires had left black marks on the paved parking lot.

"Parker, what are you talking about?" Her tense voice was beginning to make him nervous. What she in some kind of trouble? Jarod was so engrossed in her words that he didn't even hear the slow, cautious footsteps behind him.

"Jarod, listen to me. You have to get out of that house right now. I mean it, you need to leave now!"

"What are you--" As he tried to fit in a word or two, a hand covered in a black leather glove lifted a gun.

"Damn it, don't argue, just leave! Jarod, he called me. He's in the house, he was watching you. Do you understand? Jarod, answer me! Jarod, please!" But Jarod was no longer listening. His attention was entirely concentrated on the slow, deep breaths he heard behind him. His muscles tensed, and his mind jumped to work, figuring out an escape route while still deciding whether to leave this psycho's grasp or try to take down the person hurting Parker. In a moment, a list of things this mad man had done to Parker flashed through his mind, as well as a mental picture of Parker as a little girl, helpless and innocent. He felt anger rise in him.

Suddenly, fighting this guy seemed like a great idea.

Jarod spun around, prepared to kick some serious ass. Unfortunately the other guy was just as fast, and they were soon ducking each other's fists. Jarod's first impression of this person was that he was strong, and a good fighter. Whoever it was, was clad in black, complete with a black ski mask and black leather gloves. He saw that, and the silver glint of a weapon.

That was all he had a chance to notice, before a single gunshot echoed throughout the house.









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