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Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended

This is a sequel to There's No Business Like Show Business nocd key warcraft 1



Judge Jarod

by Ruth Piwonka




May 22, 2000, Baltimore, Maryland, 8:30 a.m.

Lieutenant James Hofner put his Oakley sunglasses over his clear blue eyes and withdrew his Browning .45 automatic pistol from his shoulder holster. Mr. Brown and five other sweepers with their guns drawn waited for his command right behind him. “We’re gonna make this look like a drug bust. Follow my lead and keep your guns ready,” he ordered.

He knocked on the door to room 110 and waited. After a few seconds of waiting, he knocked three times again. No one came to the door or made any footsteps toward it. Hofner pulled a picklock out of his uniformed pocket and stuck it in between the lock and the door jam. He pressed hard and the lock began to budge. “Follow me.” Hofner motioned them to come closer as he raised his foot to kick the door open.

As the door swung open, he immediately entered the room with his gun up in an offensive position and the other six men pursued him inside. But the room was empty. The beds were made and there was no trace of Ethan or Emily. He bit his lip with humiliation; he was sure that he had had them right where they would be trapped. “Sir, they’re not here,” Mr. Brown began. “What do you-”

“Who put the quarter in you to talk, Sherlock Holmes?!” he snapped and went into the bathroom to search for evidence of them. No one had used the shower or the toilet. “Go up to the management and ask them about Ethan and the girl. Now.”

“As you wish, sir.” Mr. Brown nodded and left the room. He shut the hotel door on his way out.

Hofner’s cell phone rang and he left the bathroom. “Keep the noise level down,” he said to the sweepers before answering with, “Lieutenant Hofner.”

“Where are they?” Lyle’s voice echoed loudly over the phone. The sweepers heard their superior and stopped talking instantaneously.

***

Lyle’s Office, 8:32 a.m.

Dr. Siffons finished bandaging Lyle’s wound and began to take off his latex gloves. Lyle silently thanked him with a nod and leaned his elbows on his desk to hear Lt. Hofner’s response from his speaker phone.

“They weren’t there. I’m having them do a complete check on their bill. But the room looks like it wasn’t even used.”

“I see. Are you sure that you have the right room?”

“I heard them talking from my adjacent room last night. I’m positive that they were here.” Lyle looked at his hands; he was now missing both thumbs thanks to Miss Parker. He pounded his unwounded hand on the desk.

“Sir, do you want me to continue the search?”

“You can’t possibly expect to find them. Tell Mr. Brown to continue. I have an important request for you here and I need you to come now. Take the Centre jet; it’s still in the hangar at Baltimore International Airport.”

“You mean they’re going to hunt Ethan and Emily down; not me?”

“Yes. I need you here for a ‘top secret’ assignment. And if you succeed for the correct amount of time that I have in mind, I’ll double your pay.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Lyle. I’ll be at the Centre at 2:30.”

“See to it that you’re not late. I have a tendency to be nasty when people are tardy.”

“What’s the assignment?”

“For your eyes and ears only, if you catch my drift.”

“Yes. I do.” Lyle pressed a button and terminated the phone call. Dr. Siffons was packing up his supplies when Lyle called him over to his desk. “Dr. Siffons...come over here.”

“Anything that I can do for you, sir? Is the bandage too tight?”

“No. I want to know if Cox is conscious yet. And I want to see his progress.”

“He seems to be doing quite well since the transfusion. But the young lady’s health has been dropping downhill rapidly since you saw her last.”

“I didn’t ask about her. Is Cox awake yet?”

“I haven’t seen him since last night.”

“And what about Major Charles?”

“Sir?”

“Nevermind. You don’t know who he is; and you’re better off not knowing.”

“Sir, I know you are not concerned about the young lady’s welfare, but I must insist that she goes to a hospital or some place where they will take care of her. She’s looking deathly ill.” Lyle’s eyes narrowed and the doctor took a step back. “But of course, that’s just my professional opinion.”

“You can take you opinion and shove it up your ass, Dr. Siffons. You just worry about who I tell you to worry about and I don’t wanna hear another word about Zoe ever again,” he hissed dangerously.

***

Chicago, Illinois, District Attorney’s Office, 8:55 a.m.

“You’re here to see Mr. Selby?” a black woman asked Jarod; obviously the man’s secretary.

“Yes. He’s expecting me; I’m Jarod Calendar from Dover, Delaware.”

“The new district attorney?”

“Yes.” Jarod handed her a thick file. “Those are my references, my qualifications, and my resume.”

“Do you want him to look at these right now, Mr. Calendar?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll call him.” She picked the phone up and dialed his extension. “Mr. Selby, are you ready to meet Jarod Calendar? He says he’s supposed to be the new district attorney. Yes. He’s aware of that, sir. No. He just handed me a file about as thick as War and Peace full of references, qualifications, and his resume, sir. Thank you.” She put the phone back in its cradle and gave Jarod a hopeful smile. “I think you’ll be needing this,” she pointed to the file.

“Thank you. Do I just go straight in...and-”

“Right into his office, sweetie. I’m Georgene Quincy, but everyone calls me Georgie.”

“Why?”

“It’s a nickname.”

“What’s that?” She looked at him suspiciously, but when she saw his cute boyish eyes staring at her blankly, she wiped off all traces of cynicism.

“When you don’t call someone by their real name. It’s a notation of affection for somebody. Like if I starting calling you Pez boy, that would be a nickname.” Jarod looked down at the Pez dispenser that was sitting in his pocket and smiled at Georgie.

“Do you like Pez?”

“I’ve always been a sucker for sweets. Go on, now. Get your buns over to his office...he’s waiting for you. Nobody makes Mr. Selby wait.” He collected his papers and headed toward the big boss’s office.

***

Miss Parker’s Living Room...

She was sitting in a leather recliner when she heard the knock on the front door. Who could it be at this time of night? she wondered as she kept her gun hidden behind her back and opened the door.

“Jarod?” He nodded and flashed her his charming, boyish grin. “It’s late.”

“Though you’re still up,” he returned.

“Yes. I couldn’t get to sleep. What do you want?”

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Jarod leaned against the doorjamb and his tie blew around in the gentle breeze. “It’s important.”

“What do you want?”

“Do you still not trust me, Miss Parker?” His warm brown eyes made contact with her eyes and they made her cold exterior begin to melt. “Let me in,” he murmured. Miss Parker stepped back and opened the door so he could walk inside.

“You usually wear black whenever I see you. Why the suit?”

“I had to dress up for my last pretend a little bit and I didn’t have time to go home and change,” he chuckled. When she failed to see the jocularity, his eyes left hers. She closed the door behind him and he followed her into the living room. “Is this about a recent find of yours?” she inquired.

“Yes and no,” he replied ambiguously. He watched her sit down on the couch and he decided to stand instead of joining her. “I want something from you.” Jarod picked up a picture of Catharine Parker and ran his hands across the silver frame. “And I think she does, too.”

“What?”

“I want you to be free. Free from the Centre forever, like I am.”

“I...I can’t do that. You know what my father will do to me if I even try...”









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