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Chapter or Story
Disclaimer in Part 1
The Truth Hurts
Part 17
by N.R. Levy
Donal looked at the small device in his hand, wishing more than anything that he could throw it down into the loch rather than use it. Yet he knew he could not. If that evil harpy found out he’d kept information away from her...well, Ian would pay, and Donal just couldn’t let that happen. He pushed the button the witch had programmed for him and waited to hear her voice.
“Yes?”
“He…Jarod, he be knowin’ the lass is gone.”
“Has he gone looking for her?”
“No, ma’am. He be headin’ for town and the doctor. The lass was ailin’ before and they did some testin’. I think he be wantin’ the news before he goes to find her.”
“Follow him.”
He nearly dropped the phone when he heard the venom that had suddenly crept into her voice.
“I got no reason to be in town, ma’am. If he lay his eyes on me…”
“Then don’t let him see you.”
The line went dead, and Donal sighed, knowing he had no choice but to do what he’d been ordered to do once again.
Alasdair Ross crept quietly down the hall, not wanting to disturb his young guest. The woman…aye, he reminded himself, Catie Jamison’s daughter, had fallen asleep beside the fire while he’d prepared a fresh pot of tea. He had decided to let her rest while dinner finished cooking, and then he would take her to Ceol Na Mara.
Smiling, he thought of how the young one’s face had lit up as he’d told her of Catie’s love for the small cottage, and how she had come to see him years earlier, asking him to prepare the house for her arrival. She had planned to stay at the cottage with her daughter and two other children. When she hadn’t arrived as planned, Alasdair had called an old friend of his who’d moved to the States and asked him to check up on little Catie. It was then that Alasdair learned of the beauty’s death, and a sad pall had fallen over the cottage, remaining, he honestly believed, every day since, as if her spirit was lying dark and fretting upon it.
It seemed right that her bairn was here now. Aye, how Catie had loved that little girl. Went on and on about her, she had, when she’d come to visit, despite the heavy weight she seemed to be carrying on her heart at the time. Alasdair remembered trying to get her to open up to him about what was frightening her so, but Catie had only patted his hand and told him he worried too much.
He pulled supper from the oven and was just turning down the heat when he heard Parker call out. He rushed toward the sound, finding her still asleep in the chair beside the fireplace, but she was as far from peaceful as any one could be. Sweat poured down her face, and a look of genuine anguish had replaced the quiet beauty on her face. Knowing of nothing else to do, Alasdair moved toward her, gently shaking her.
“Come on, lass. Let go of the dark. Come on.”
Parker’s eyes flew open and she nearly jumped out of the chair. Her eyes blinked wildly as she looked around her trying to get her bearings. Then her she focused on the man standing beside her, and her memory began to fill in the blanks of the day…. running…running from Jarod, from her lost memories, from the voices….and she had ended up here in Kyle of Lochalsh. Why? What had brought her here?
“Ye be all right now, lass?”
Smiling weakly, Parker looked up at her host and nodded.
“Well, I’m off to get ye some supper. If ever a body needed a wee bit of nourishment…I’ll never understand why Yanks try to starve their lasses to a bone.”
The comment managed to bring a slightly genuine smile to Parker’s face as he host wandered off. But once she was alone again, her mind returned instantly to the questions it had posed for itself just a moment ago. What had brought her here? The voices…yes, at least one of them. Her mother’s voice. It was her mother who wanted her here. But why? And why did the voices continue to change so often? Most of the time, it was her mother she heard…but sometimes there was a chorus of voices and sometimes the small, hard to understand voice that seemed to do nothing but ramble.
Then there was the other voice, the new one that had warned her against being close to Jarod. Since she’d left Inverness, that voice had grown silent, and Parker was more than grateful. It had not given her a sense of comfort like her mother’s or provided help like the others so often did. That voice had done nothing but terrify her in a part of her even she didn’t completely understand.
Thinking of Inverness made Parker think of Jarod. He’d have figured out by now that she was gone. He would be so worried. ‘Stop it, Parker,’ she chided herself. This is why you left…distance, perspective. Get a grip on yourself and figure out what the hell’s been going on the past four months.
Only that wasn’t why she left, and in her heart, she knew it. She’d left because the voice had told her staying would endanger Jarod, and for some reason, that frightened more than any other possibility she could think of.
Donal pulled up outside the hospital and saw Jarod’s car parked in the lot. Deciding against wasting his energy trying to think up a lie to cover his tracks, Donal had simply stopped at a few key spots looking for Parker. If anyone asked, he’d simply say he’d heard that she’d left and gone searching for her. He’d seen Jarod’s car here and decided to stop and see if he’d found her.
Carefully, the older man moved through the hallways toward Dr. MacKenna’s office. He was almost at the door when heard Jarod’s voice come from inside.
“Mairin, are you sure? Do you realize…”
“Aye, Jarod. She’ll have no idea how this happened, let alone when or wit' who. Ye’v got to find her, and quickly.”
“Do you think…Mairin, do you think everything is okay? I mean, I know it could all just be routine, but she’s been so weak and with her fainting today…”
“I think they both be fine, Jarod, but we’ll be certain once they be home and I do a bit of checkin’. Have ye any idea where she’d go?”
Jarod sighed heavily, and Donal could hear the pain in his response.
“I don’t know what’s going on inside of her anymore, Mairin. I just don’t know.”
Wracked with guilt, Donal turned and headed down the hall and back out of the hospital. His stomach turning, he took out the phone and dialed again.
“Yes?”
“Somethin’ be wrong with the lass. The doc say she’ll be right confused and won’t know how it happened. I didn’t hear what exactly they be meanin’, but Jarod….”
“I’m not worried about Jarod, I need to know what’s wrong with Parker. Oh, nevermind. Get back to the house and let me know if you hear anything else.”
Margaret snapped the phone closed and whirled around on her heel, almost throwing it. What the hell was happening now? Some side effect from the brainwashing? But no, nothing had ever gone wrong before. There had to be a way of finding out what it was without tipping her hand.
A knock sounded on her door and Margaret uttered a rather unintelligible “come in” that brought one of her personal sweepers into the room.
“Yes?”
“The transmitter was stopped in Glenfinnan for some time, ma’am. We had someone check on it, and it seems her car broke down there. Do you want us to ask around and see where she might be?”
Margaret smiled, her eyes signaling the sudden sense of calm she felt once her advantage was partially regained. So much like Catherine…really, it was uncanny that two people could be so similar given all the years that Miss Parker had been without her mother’s guiding hand. Yet it was a likeness that had, once again, played into Margaret’s hands.
“No, there’s no need. Is Erin still hold up at that little tavern near Loch Gavre?”
“Yes, ma’am. Ever since she, eh, ‘dispatched’ her husband, she’s been stuck running the place.”
“Contact her and ask her to drop in on old Alasdair Ross. I have a feeling he has a guest we’d be most interested in Erin meeting.”
The sweeper left the room without another word and Margaret lay down on her bed as a plan began to formulate in her mind. This might all work out very, very well indeed. Erin would be able to keep a close eye on Parker, and she just might be able to recover that damnable key. Meanwhile, Margaret would make a second “motherly” appearance, and this time, a genuine conversation was in order. Perhaps her concerned and obviously worried son would confide in his sweet, innocent mother?
Morning broke along Loch Gavre, but the newest resident of Kyle of Lochalsh did not see the sun rise. Rather, she was finally getting some much needed and, surprisingly peaceful sleep. After watching her eat a plateful of his Shepherd’s Pie, Alasdair had escorted her to her mother’s cottage. ‘Music of the Sea’…it was such a perfect name for the house. The sounds from outside coupled with the warm, soft light inside had created a cocoon of safety that Parker hadn’t felt since her childhood. Though she’d planned to explore the house from top to bottom, she’d lain down in the large, soft bed just to stretch out her back a moment. Now it was morning, and she was only just beginning to wake.
Once she’d finally reached full consciousness, Parker had set about to do the exploring she’d meant to do the night before. As she moved, she listened closely, wondering if the voices were planning to give her any guidance. For hours, she heard nothing. She opened boxes and found clothes and photos she knew had belonged to Catherine Parker, or rather Jamison, and she’d been known here. She explored every nook and cranny she could find, but nothing seemed to shed any light on why she might be here or what had happened to her over these last few months.
Then it came. The soft murmurs, her mother’s voice growing stronger and more insistent as it rose above the others. Parker surrendered to its pleas, moving cautiously toward an old bookcase in the music room of the cottage. The closer she got to the case, the stronger the voices grew, and Parker knew something here was a piece of the puzzle she needed to solve. Reaching up, she began to move her hand over the various books there, nearly stopping to pull a few down but, getting no stronger response from her inner sense, she passed them by. Then she found it. A large, leather-bound photo album. The moment she touched it, the voices grew into a clamor, and she pulled it down quickly, opening it seemingly of someone else’s will.
There it was. The photo of her mother and Margaret. An old copy of the image that had, presumably, led her to this foreign land and somehow brought her into contact with Jarod. As she looked at the photo, her fingers tracing first her mother’s face, then Margaret’s, some spark of recognition seemed to begin to grow inside of her mind. Just as she was about to finally wrap a firm mental hand around it, pain seized her, and Parker nearly doubled over as she dropped the photo album, grabbing her head. Instantly, she felt a wave of nausea, but knew she was powerless to do anything about it. She was paralyzed from the pain, and she could hear nothing but the sudden incessant rambling of the new, weak voice that seemed to so want her attention.
“Cameron.”
Pain kept Parker from looking up, but she knew the voice instantly. She struggled to reach out to him as the pain kept her in its grip.
“Ethan?”
In two steps Ethan was beside his sister, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she fought off the terrible agony she was feeling. He was more than grateful that he’d managed to fend off Liam MacDonald’s attempts to keep him for breakfast before heading off to find his sister. The closer he’d gotten, the more certain he was that this was where he would find her, and the moment he’d come over the hill and laid eyes on Loch Gavre, he’d known where to find her. Their mother had led the way.
“That name, who is it?”
Ethan looked down at his sister, an easing of her pain evident on her face. Neither of them realized yet that the reduction was caused only by her sudden distraction from thoughts of her lost memories to the name Ethan had mentioned.
“You mean Cameron?”
“Yes. Who is he, Ethan? Is he the one who’s trying to talk to me?”
Smiling, Ethan tightened his hold on his sister. Though she was his elder, he had a feeling she was going to need him to be very strong for her in the coming days.
“Yes, Parker, he is. He’s been trying to reach me, too. I didn’t know who he was for sure. Not until I walked in and saw you. That’s when I finally realized who he was, why he is so important to you.”
“I don’t even know anyone named Cameron.”
“Only,” Ethan replied, “because what you’ve been through has kept you from listening. Listen to him, Parker. And you’ll know who he is.”
Suddenly, for a reason she didn’t begin to understand, Parker felt very afraid. Still, now that she was no longer alone…well, that wasn’t fair, she hadn’t been alone until she’d run away…but now that she was with Ethan, she felt she could at least try and sort it out. And so, for the first time since she’d awakened in the hospital, Parker focused on the small, hard-to-fathom voice. And then, she knew. With a sharp intake of breath, Parker sat up and stared at her brother for confirmation. His eyes told her that she was correct.
“Oh, my God….oh, my God, Ethan. How? How could I…how could he be my son? How can I be pregnant and not even know how it happened?”
Jarod had stopped in town just long enough to gather up a few more supplies and leave a message with Connor. He quickly headed for the train station, wanting to check just one more time to see if anyone there had seen or heard anything about Parker. He headed toward Kirian, the redheaded clerk who’d promised to keep an eye out for anyone looking like Parker. Then he saw her. Oh, God…he’d been so worried about Parker, he’d forgotten who else might be here. As if he needed any more proof of how important Parker was to him….that he’d forgotten about a possible sighting of his mother in favor of worrying about her was proof of it.
Moving quickly, Jarod headed toward the blond and gray-haired woman. He reached out, touching her shoulder, this time not letting her get away. She turned, her eyes widening as she was first frightened, then elated at who stood before her.
“Jarod? Oh my….Jarod! Oh, my son!”
Margaret embraced him tightly, holding on to him like the lost little boy he still was in some part of his heart. Jarod returned the embrace, disbelieving that his arms were wrapped around the mother he’d been searching for all of these years.
“Mom. I can’t believe…what are you doing here?”
“I’ve been looking for clues. I know that there’s information here in Scotland that can help us destroy the Centre and I’ve been trying to find it. Is that why you’re here, too?”
Jarod nodded, moving his mother to some nearby empty chairs before his legs gave out on him from a combination of exhaustion and shock.
“Yes, Parker and I…”
“Parker?”
“Catherine Parker’s daughter. We were working together, but then something happened and, Mom, I was on my way out of town, actually, to try and find her.”
“But I thought you were together.”
“We were, but Mom, she’s just confused right now and she doesn’t know how important she really is to me. And I have to find her.”
“You love her?”
Jarod nodded, “Yes, I do. But it’s more than that. She’s all alone, Mom, and she’s…Parker’s carrying our child, and she doesn’t know. I have to find her before something happens. Because I can’t shake this feeling that something dark is waiting for her, for us.”
Tears began to form in Jarod’s eyes, and Margaret, using her very best acting talents, reached out and gently touched his cheeks.
“Everything will be all right now, Jarod. I’m here. Your mother is here, and I’ll make sure that everything turns out just as it should.”
The Truth Hurts
Part 17
by N.R. Levy
Donal looked at the small device in his hand, wishing more than anything that he could throw it down into the loch rather than use it. Yet he knew he could not. If that evil harpy found out he’d kept information away from her...well, Ian would pay, and Donal just couldn’t let that happen. He pushed the button the witch had programmed for him and waited to hear her voice.
“Yes?”
“He…Jarod, he be knowin’ the lass is gone.”
“Has he gone looking for her?”
“No, ma’am. He be headin’ for town and the doctor. The lass was ailin’ before and they did some testin’. I think he be wantin’ the news before he goes to find her.”
“Follow him.”
He nearly dropped the phone when he heard the venom that had suddenly crept into her voice.
“I got no reason to be in town, ma’am. If he lay his eyes on me…”
“Then don’t let him see you.”
The line went dead, and Donal sighed, knowing he had no choice but to do what he’d been ordered to do once again.
Alasdair Ross crept quietly down the hall, not wanting to disturb his young guest. The woman…aye, he reminded himself, Catie Jamison’s daughter, had fallen asleep beside the fire while he’d prepared a fresh pot of tea. He had decided to let her rest while dinner finished cooking, and then he would take her to Ceol Na Mara.
Smiling, he thought of how the young one’s face had lit up as he’d told her of Catie’s love for the small cottage, and how she had come to see him years earlier, asking him to prepare the house for her arrival. She had planned to stay at the cottage with her daughter and two other children. When she hadn’t arrived as planned, Alasdair had called an old friend of his who’d moved to the States and asked him to check up on little Catie. It was then that Alasdair learned of the beauty’s death, and a sad pall had fallen over the cottage, remaining, he honestly believed, every day since, as if her spirit was lying dark and fretting upon it.
It seemed right that her bairn was here now. Aye, how Catie had loved that little girl. Went on and on about her, she had, when she’d come to visit, despite the heavy weight she seemed to be carrying on her heart at the time. Alasdair remembered trying to get her to open up to him about what was frightening her so, but Catie had only patted his hand and told him he worried too much.
He pulled supper from the oven and was just turning down the heat when he heard Parker call out. He rushed toward the sound, finding her still asleep in the chair beside the fireplace, but she was as far from peaceful as any one could be. Sweat poured down her face, and a look of genuine anguish had replaced the quiet beauty on her face. Knowing of nothing else to do, Alasdair moved toward her, gently shaking her.
“Come on, lass. Let go of the dark. Come on.”
Parker’s eyes flew open and she nearly jumped out of the chair. Her eyes blinked wildly as she looked around her trying to get her bearings. Then her she focused on the man standing beside her, and her memory began to fill in the blanks of the day…. running…running from Jarod, from her lost memories, from the voices….and she had ended up here in Kyle of Lochalsh. Why? What had brought her here?
“Ye be all right now, lass?”
Smiling weakly, Parker looked up at her host and nodded.
“Well, I’m off to get ye some supper. If ever a body needed a wee bit of nourishment…I’ll never understand why Yanks try to starve their lasses to a bone.”
The comment managed to bring a slightly genuine smile to Parker’s face as he host wandered off. But once she was alone again, her mind returned instantly to the questions it had posed for itself just a moment ago. What had brought her here? The voices…yes, at least one of them. Her mother’s voice. It was her mother who wanted her here. But why? And why did the voices continue to change so often? Most of the time, it was her mother she heard…but sometimes there was a chorus of voices and sometimes the small, hard to understand voice that seemed to do nothing but ramble.
Then there was the other voice, the new one that had warned her against being close to Jarod. Since she’d left Inverness, that voice had grown silent, and Parker was more than grateful. It had not given her a sense of comfort like her mother’s or provided help like the others so often did. That voice had done nothing but terrify her in a part of her even she didn’t completely understand.
Thinking of Inverness made Parker think of Jarod. He’d have figured out by now that she was gone. He would be so worried. ‘Stop it, Parker,’ she chided herself. This is why you left…distance, perspective. Get a grip on yourself and figure out what the hell’s been going on the past four months.
Only that wasn’t why she left, and in her heart, she knew it. She’d left because the voice had told her staying would endanger Jarod, and for some reason, that frightened more than any other possibility she could think of.
Donal pulled up outside the hospital and saw Jarod’s car parked in the lot. Deciding against wasting his energy trying to think up a lie to cover his tracks, Donal had simply stopped at a few key spots looking for Parker. If anyone asked, he’d simply say he’d heard that she’d left and gone searching for her. He’d seen Jarod’s car here and decided to stop and see if he’d found her.
Carefully, the older man moved through the hallways toward Dr. MacKenna’s office. He was almost at the door when heard Jarod’s voice come from inside.
“Mairin, are you sure? Do you realize…”
“Aye, Jarod. She’ll have no idea how this happened, let alone when or wit' who. Ye’v got to find her, and quickly.”
“Do you think…Mairin, do you think everything is okay? I mean, I know it could all just be routine, but she’s been so weak and with her fainting today…”
“I think they both be fine, Jarod, but we’ll be certain once they be home and I do a bit of checkin’. Have ye any idea where she’d go?”
Jarod sighed heavily, and Donal could hear the pain in his response.
“I don’t know what’s going on inside of her anymore, Mairin. I just don’t know.”
Wracked with guilt, Donal turned and headed down the hall and back out of the hospital. His stomach turning, he took out the phone and dialed again.
“Yes?”
“Somethin’ be wrong with the lass. The doc say she’ll be right confused and won’t know how it happened. I didn’t hear what exactly they be meanin’, but Jarod….”
“I’m not worried about Jarod, I need to know what’s wrong with Parker. Oh, nevermind. Get back to the house and let me know if you hear anything else.”
Margaret snapped the phone closed and whirled around on her heel, almost throwing it. What the hell was happening now? Some side effect from the brainwashing? But no, nothing had ever gone wrong before. There had to be a way of finding out what it was without tipping her hand.
A knock sounded on her door and Margaret uttered a rather unintelligible “come in” that brought one of her personal sweepers into the room.
“Yes?”
“The transmitter was stopped in Glenfinnan for some time, ma’am. We had someone check on it, and it seems her car broke down there. Do you want us to ask around and see where she might be?”
Margaret smiled, her eyes signaling the sudden sense of calm she felt once her advantage was partially regained. So much like Catherine…really, it was uncanny that two people could be so similar given all the years that Miss Parker had been without her mother’s guiding hand. Yet it was a likeness that had, once again, played into Margaret’s hands.
“No, there’s no need. Is Erin still hold up at that little tavern near Loch Gavre?”
“Yes, ma’am. Ever since she, eh, ‘dispatched’ her husband, she’s been stuck running the place.”
“Contact her and ask her to drop in on old Alasdair Ross. I have a feeling he has a guest we’d be most interested in Erin meeting.”
The sweeper left the room without another word and Margaret lay down on her bed as a plan began to formulate in her mind. This might all work out very, very well indeed. Erin would be able to keep a close eye on Parker, and she just might be able to recover that damnable key. Meanwhile, Margaret would make a second “motherly” appearance, and this time, a genuine conversation was in order. Perhaps her concerned and obviously worried son would confide in his sweet, innocent mother?
Morning broke along Loch Gavre, but the newest resident of Kyle of Lochalsh did not see the sun rise. Rather, she was finally getting some much needed and, surprisingly peaceful sleep. After watching her eat a plateful of his Shepherd’s Pie, Alasdair had escorted her to her mother’s cottage. ‘Music of the Sea’…it was such a perfect name for the house. The sounds from outside coupled with the warm, soft light inside had created a cocoon of safety that Parker hadn’t felt since her childhood. Though she’d planned to explore the house from top to bottom, she’d lain down in the large, soft bed just to stretch out her back a moment. Now it was morning, and she was only just beginning to wake.
Once she’d finally reached full consciousness, Parker had set about to do the exploring she’d meant to do the night before. As she moved, she listened closely, wondering if the voices were planning to give her any guidance. For hours, she heard nothing. She opened boxes and found clothes and photos she knew had belonged to Catherine Parker, or rather Jamison, and she’d been known here. She explored every nook and cranny she could find, but nothing seemed to shed any light on why she might be here or what had happened to her over these last few months.
Then it came. The soft murmurs, her mother’s voice growing stronger and more insistent as it rose above the others. Parker surrendered to its pleas, moving cautiously toward an old bookcase in the music room of the cottage. The closer she got to the case, the stronger the voices grew, and Parker knew something here was a piece of the puzzle she needed to solve. Reaching up, she began to move her hand over the various books there, nearly stopping to pull a few down but, getting no stronger response from her inner sense, she passed them by. Then she found it. A large, leather-bound photo album. The moment she touched it, the voices grew into a clamor, and she pulled it down quickly, opening it seemingly of someone else’s will.
There it was. The photo of her mother and Margaret. An old copy of the image that had, presumably, led her to this foreign land and somehow brought her into contact with Jarod. As she looked at the photo, her fingers tracing first her mother’s face, then Margaret’s, some spark of recognition seemed to begin to grow inside of her mind. Just as she was about to finally wrap a firm mental hand around it, pain seized her, and Parker nearly doubled over as she dropped the photo album, grabbing her head. Instantly, she felt a wave of nausea, but knew she was powerless to do anything about it. She was paralyzed from the pain, and she could hear nothing but the sudden incessant rambling of the new, weak voice that seemed to so want her attention.
“Cameron.”
Pain kept Parker from looking up, but she knew the voice instantly. She struggled to reach out to him as the pain kept her in its grip.
“Ethan?”
In two steps Ethan was beside his sister, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she fought off the terrible agony she was feeling. He was more than grateful that he’d managed to fend off Liam MacDonald’s attempts to keep him for breakfast before heading off to find his sister. The closer he’d gotten, the more certain he was that this was where he would find her, and the moment he’d come over the hill and laid eyes on Loch Gavre, he’d known where to find her. Their mother had led the way.
“That name, who is it?”
Ethan looked down at his sister, an easing of her pain evident on her face. Neither of them realized yet that the reduction was caused only by her sudden distraction from thoughts of her lost memories to the name Ethan had mentioned.
“You mean Cameron?”
“Yes. Who is he, Ethan? Is he the one who’s trying to talk to me?”
Smiling, Ethan tightened his hold on his sister. Though she was his elder, he had a feeling she was going to need him to be very strong for her in the coming days.
“Yes, Parker, he is. He’s been trying to reach me, too. I didn’t know who he was for sure. Not until I walked in and saw you. That’s when I finally realized who he was, why he is so important to you.”
“I don’t even know anyone named Cameron.”
“Only,” Ethan replied, “because what you’ve been through has kept you from listening. Listen to him, Parker. And you’ll know who he is.”
Suddenly, for a reason she didn’t begin to understand, Parker felt very afraid. Still, now that she was no longer alone…well, that wasn’t fair, she hadn’t been alone until she’d run away…but now that she was with Ethan, she felt she could at least try and sort it out. And so, for the first time since she’d awakened in the hospital, Parker focused on the small, hard-to-fathom voice. And then, she knew. With a sharp intake of breath, Parker sat up and stared at her brother for confirmation. His eyes told her that she was correct.
“Oh, my God….oh, my God, Ethan. How? How could I…how could he be my son? How can I be pregnant and not even know how it happened?”
Jarod had stopped in town just long enough to gather up a few more supplies and leave a message with Connor. He quickly headed for the train station, wanting to check just one more time to see if anyone there had seen or heard anything about Parker. He headed toward Kirian, the redheaded clerk who’d promised to keep an eye out for anyone looking like Parker. Then he saw her. Oh, God…he’d been so worried about Parker, he’d forgotten who else might be here. As if he needed any more proof of how important Parker was to him….that he’d forgotten about a possible sighting of his mother in favor of worrying about her was proof of it.
Moving quickly, Jarod headed toward the blond and gray-haired woman. He reached out, touching her shoulder, this time not letting her get away. She turned, her eyes widening as she was first frightened, then elated at who stood before her.
“Jarod? Oh my….Jarod! Oh, my son!”
Margaret embraced him tightly, holding on to him like the lost little boy he still was in some part of his heart. Jarod returned the embrace, disbelieving that his arms were wrapped around the mother he’d been searching for all of these years.
“Mom. I can’t believe…what are you doing here?”
“I’ve been looking for clues. I know that there’s information here in Scotland that can help us destroy the Centre and I’ve been trying to find it. Is that why you’re here, too?”
Jarod nodded, moving his mother to some nearby empty chairs before his legs gave out on him from a combination of exhaustion and shock.
“Yes, Parker and I…”
“Parker?”
“Catherine Parker’s daughter. We were working together, but then something happened and, Mom, I was on my way out of town, actually, to try and find her.”
“But I thought you were together.”
“We were, but Mom, she’s just confused right now and she doesn’t know how important she really is to me. And I have to find her.”
“You love her?”
Jarod nodded, “Yes, I do. But it’s more than that. She’s all alone, Mom, and she’s…Parker’s carrying our child, and she doesn’t know. I have to find her before something happens. Because I can’t shake this feeling that something dark is waiting for her, for us.”
Tears began to form in Jarod’s eyes, and Margaret, using her very best acting talents, reached out and gently touched his cheeks.
“Everything will be all right now, Jarod. I’m here. Your mother is here, and I’ll make sure that everything turns out just as it should.”
