Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer in part one
The Truth Hurts
Part 23
by Paula
Parker and Jarod stood, holding each other, in St. Gilleabart's rectory. Parker did not want to move. Moving would mean she had to start explaining her actions and hurting Jarod. Right here right now, she could relive the discovery of their love and pretend that the last few days had never taken place.
Jarod stopped shaking after a few moments. He was sure his legs would hold him now but continued to cling to Parker, to inhale her fragrance, and feel her warmth against him. He tried to calm his emotions. Parker remembered. She remembered everything, and he had her back. He started to tremble again, and as he felt Parker stroke his back, he sighed. What had just gone on between the women he loved? His mother had been afraid of Parker and Parker had begged him to leave the one person who meant family to him. Family...Parker knew about the baby.
Jarod pulled away from Parker, held her at arms length and studied her face in amazement. "You know about the baby?"
"Yes," she smiled, "I know."
"Are you all right? Is everything all right? Are you upset about it, about us?"
"No, Jarod." Parker felt an impulse to laugh, "If there is anything in this whole situation that does not upset me it's our son."
"It's a boy?" Jarod grinned foolishly; then sobered, "Parker what just happened? What happened to you? To your memory?" Both of them jumped when they heard a car engine come to life near the kirk. Jarod hand flew to his pocket. His keys were still there even though his car was screeching away; apparently his mother knew how to hotwire. Jarod smiled quizzically and showed Parker the keys. She did not share his amusement.
"Jarod, much as I would love to just stand here with you forever. The stories need to wait until we get away. I don't know how long we have but I'm sure we have to move now."
"But my mother..."
"Your mother works for The Centre." It was as much of the truth as she could risk. The shock and disbelief on Jarod's face sent a jab of pain through her heart. "Before you say anything or try to defend her, please, just believe me enough to go with me now."
The struggle was visible, "Yes, Parker." He took a breath; thoughts of action took the place of questions. "My things are in the other room. Do you have a car or anything?"
"I'm parked half a mile up the road." She took his hand in hers and he squeezed it. Somehow, no matter how terrible things were right now, that was enough to make her feel content. Jarod grabbed his bag and they headed down the stairs. He stopped suddenly at the door and looked at her feet, "Ah, Parker, you might consider putting on your shoes. Stockings just don't make it on cobble stones."
She punched him in the arm but made no comment as he retrieved her shoes. He steadied her while she put them on. She knew he needed to help her even if she did not need the help. She wondered if she could get used to being pampered after so many years of being tough. Jarod straightened and looked at her to reassure himself of the current reality. The look in his eyes melted her heart. Now it was her turn to sigh. Damn he was adorable. For a second she forgot why they were in a hurry, put her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Jarod responded appropriately. After a minute or so her mind started functioning again and she disengaged her mouth from his. "We have to boogie, Jarod."
"Boogie?" he asked absently, toying with the tips of her hair.
"Move, as in now." Parker grabbed Jarod's elbow and pushed him toward the door. He opened it a crack to check for trouble and then pushed it all the way open. They hurried away from St. Gilleabart's. Jarod scanned for sweepers; Parker scanned for Margaret.
They made it to the car with no problems. Jarod threw his bag in the back and climbed into the passenger seat. "Where to now?"
Parker started the car and drove west. "Kyle of Lochalsh. Ethan's there."
"Ethan? In Scotland?" Jarod was surprised but pleased. "You found him?"
"He found me. He helped me recover my memories; he had a bit of assistance from his nephew." Parker rested a hand on her still-flat stomach.
"Nephew? You mean our baby?" Jarod stared at the spot where her hand rested. "I hate to seem clueless here, Parker, but what are you talking about?"
"Cameron, he told me his name by the way, is as tenacious as you are. He gave me no peace until I got past the blocks and recovered all my memories. He has Ethan's gift." Parker glanced at Jarod and saw a look of dismay. "No, Jarod, he'll be fine. He has us and Violet's family and we will not allow The Centre to twist his gift or his mind."
Jarod nodded, still slightly confused, "Okay, so Ethan and ...Cameron, they helped you remember what happened before the car wreck, what caused you to loose your memory."
"Not what, Jarod, who." Parker gave Jarod a hard look, gazed ahead for a few seconds, chewing the inside of her cheek, then pulled the car abruptly off the road. She threw it into park and turned in the seat. "The 'who,' my love," Parker took his face in her hands, "is Margaret, your mother."
Jarod jerked as though she spat at him; he tried to turn his head but Parker held his face and his gaze. He shut his eyes. "I don't believe you." He shook his head slightly and opened his eyes.
"You know I wouldn't lie to you, Baby. Don't you?"
Jarod's eyes opened. "I don't think you're lying, Parker." He put his hands over hers and pulled them down and together. He held them in his lap, absently rubbing his thumbs over her wrists. He dropped his eyes for a second then returned them to her face. "I just can't believe it's true. It may be a memory aberration caused by whatever drugs you were given or a false memory put into your brain to separate me from my mother, or you."
Parker sighed and squeezed Jarod's hands. "I'm not sure I expected you to believe me. I hoped, but I knew it would be too hard. It's true, Jarod, and I can prove it. Your mo... Margaret keeps journals. I found some of them at the Caer. That's where I was when she caught me reading her words. She incriminated herself. I can show you; I'll take you there now." Parker swiveled forward in her seat.
"No, Annsachd," Jarod's using his name for her sent a pleasant chill down Parker's back. "I'll go to Caer Erract; you'll wait somewhere safe or, better yet, go to Ethan while I do. I'll find you after."
"Jarod, I won't be separated from you again." It was a statement set in stone with just a tinge of fear.
Jarod had expected disagreement but when he saw the look in Parker's eyes he knew he would not win this argument. He frowned.
"Besides, I know exactly where the diaries are hidden, and I believe she's afraid of me."
"If what you say is true, and I don't believe it is, then she would be very afraid of you if she knew anything about you." Jarod half smiled. Parker touched her hand to his cheek, put the car in gear, turned around and drove toward the Caer.
Parker knew by the set of Jarod's jaw that he had no intention of believing her. He was staring straight ahead; probably thinking up plausible explanations for her accusations or excuses for Margaret's actions. Denial was a wonderful thing. God knew she understood how someone could deny the truth about a parent.
The drive to the Caer was short and silent. Jarod immediately took charge. Parker allowed it with hidden amusement; he was something to watch in action. He had her park the car just behind an overgrown stone fence to the side of the hill. It was slightly below the Caer, within easy running distance but well hidden. He told her to stay with the car while he reconnoitered. Parker followed as soon as he disappeared around the side of the hill. She kept him in sight as well as she could while staying hidden. He looked in her direction often, but kept moving slowly around and toward the Caer. When he was satisfied, he went to work at a locked door on the side of the hill toward the car.
Parker joined him at the door. He was not at all surprised and not all that happy. "Didn't you think I'd come back for you?"
"No," she answered with a wry tone.
"You were right." He got the latch. "But as long as you're here," he pushed the door open and stood to one side, "we may as well go in."
Parker bowed slightly and entered first. Jarod followed, shutting the door behind him. "As best I can tell, there's no one here now. But there has been activity, car tracks several days old and older, and foot traffic more recently. There's no smoke now but I can smell the traces of old fires so someone may have been living here."
"Your..." she stopped. He would know soon enough. "I know where to look." Parker took the lead. She noticed Jarod taking in every detail, including the presence of relatively new electric wiring on the lower levels. As they ascended to ground level and above the accommodations were more primitive. There was still no sign of human presence other than their own. Parker led them as directly as possible to Margaret's tower rooms.
Once they reached the tower, Jarod took the lead again. He went to work at picking the obviously new lock. He had a much harder time than Parker expected. Or was he hesitant to solve it? He finally succeeded with the lock and opened the door.
The room was cool; wood was set in the hearth, unlit, but it looked like occupancy was imminent. Jarod was even more wary, "We need to get what we came for and get out of here, Parker. This has the makings of a trap."
"Yes, I know. I was caught in it once." Parker walked past Jarod and into the room. Chills ran down her spine. The longer she was in the Caer the harder it was to keep moving. She really wanted out of here. Instead of bolting, Parker went directly to an antique cupboard that hid the safe where she had found the journals. On her previous visit the safe was not locked; this time it was. "Jarod, you've pretended to be a safecracker a few times. Try this one."
"Apparently, breaking and entering is turning into my most useful skill." He cocked an eyebrow at her and attended to the safe. It was open in a minute.
It was completely empty.
Jarod heard Parker swear softly and angrily, but somehow all he could feel was relief. The feeling puzzled him. He knew Parker was wrong about his mother. He knew there were no journals. But if Parker was wrong then why had his mother run? And if he was so sure then why was he relieved? "This is where you thought you found journals?"
"This IS where they were, in a locked box." Her memory had been stolen because of them. "Do you think this castle has empty safes behind every cupboard?"
Jarod decided that was meant to be a rhetorical question. "Maybe there's other evidence." Jarod turned slowly, taking in the small, sparsely furnished room. It was meticulous. There was another door fireside. "What's through there?"
"Her bedroom. I'll check it." Parker's actions echoed her words.
Jarod walked over to a leather chair and side table near the hearth. Both were bare; the table was dustless; the arms of the chair shone as though newly cleaned. That in itself was suspicious. He frowned, and walked to the only other furniture in the room, a lovely old desk. The drawers were unlocked and it only took moments to verify that there was nothing personal there. Jarod carefully pocketed a pen to run a fingerprint check later. He joined Parker in the other room.
Parker slid from under the bed. She looked up at Jarod but could not gather the energy to rise. "Nothing. Not even clothes in the cupboard. Just sheets, towels and blankets; all freshly washed."
Jarod nodded. This was the way he left a room when he didn't want The Centre to know he'd been there. He looked out the window. There was a person in the brush to the front of the Caer; they were not doing a very good job of hiding. He looked into the distance. There were two cars coming this way from Inverness. They were not yet on the road to the Caer, but they were traveling a bit fast for local traffic. "Parker, it's time to go."
Parker did not question Jarod. The tone of his voice was enough to snap her to her feet even if he had not grasped her hand and pulled her up. She glanced out the window and saw the dust on the far road. They started to run.
They made excellent time getting back down to the basement level. They were almost at the door when Parker stopped. Jarod spun around, expecting trouble.
Parker was staring down a side hall, still as stone. Jarod studied her point of view but saw only darkness. He turned to her. She was breathing shallowly. "Parker?" he asked softly, touching her arm.
But Parker was somewhere else. She was ripping through a box of files in a small dungeon when Margaret found her. She lay on a concrete slab, her wrists and ankles shackled into place by old manacles, and Margaret was smiling at her while one of her doctors readied a syringe of something that would put her through hell. She screamed as Margaret turned away, the syringe entered her arm and everything spun into nothing.
Parker returned to reality to find Jarod bracing her with an arm around her shoulder. She was trembling and exhausted. "Jarod, they had me down here, in one of those rooms. And there were Centre records." She pointed down the black hall. "There could be something there. We have to check."
"This place has been cleaned, Parker, an excellent job. IF there was anything here to lead us to whoever took your memory, it's gone now. It would be a waste of time we don't have."
Parker looked wistfully down the hall, but nodded acceptance. Jarod moved his arm to her waist and supported her as they ran out of the Caer to the car. Jarod kept his free hand on his gun. He expected an attack from the man in the bushes but none came.
Parker's legs threatened to give way, but they made it to the car. She gratefully slid into the passenger seat. Jarod took the driver's side. He drove slowly so as not to raise dust and positioned them just short of the spot where their driveway met the main drive. Two black cars swept past on their way to the Caer. Jarod used their dust cloud as cover to drive the opposite direction.
Fergus Campbell watched two cars of sweepers come up the drive just as he had watched Jarod and Parker come earlier. He was somewhat proud that he avoided Jarod's scouting. He knew the younger man was careful, but he lived on this land and he knew how to hide. It had been harder for Fergus to stay away from them. They were obviously as one again and he wanted to warn them that the Sassenach's plans were not done. She had sent him here in a bit of a panic-he smiled at that thought-to be sure there was no evidence of her identity left in the Caer. He had done his job although he had considered betraying her. His small concession to his own conscience had been to partially reveal himself in the thin autumn bushes. Fergus half hoped that Jarod would confront him so that he could confess.
When the couple left the Caer, he saw that the lass was exhausted and knew the lad would want to be gone before the sweepers got there. Fergus decided it was not his station to be the Sassenach's accuser, at least not now. If there were indeed a God, He would see to that devil's downfall.
Fergus smiled again as he watched Parker's car exit the dust cloud and speed away from the Caer. He pulled out his cellular phone and dialed.
The phone was answered immediately, "Well?"
"They been here and gone, Missus."
"Did they find anything?" she growled.
"No' that I could see. They were nae here long."
"Good. And the sweepers?"
"They be arriving now, Missus, but they be too late." By seconds but she did not need to know.
Margaret swore under her breath.
"It's nae my place to say so, Missus, but the lass seemed a bit worn down like."
"It's not your place to say anything. Tell those idiots to turn their cars around and get to Abbott Hall as soon as possible. And you come with them. Parker will still want to find me and I'll be waiting."
Fergus said "Aye" into a dead line. He waited in the driveway until the cars came to a stop. He got into the second car with a package the Sassenach wanted taken to her. He told the sweepers to thoroughly check the Caer and then return to Penrith. The inspection would only keep the sweepers off the road for a few minutes, just long enough to be sure the road was clear.
Margaret Abbott hung up on Fergus and threw the cell phone on the car seat. She continued driving south while she reached into her purse and touched her latest journal. The previous journal, and a few other personal items, would arrive at Abbott Hall with Campbell.
So the "royal" couple was free and together. This could not be tolerated. Somehow Parker had regained her memory, which meant another wipe would probably be no more successful. Something must have happened in Kyle of Lochalsh, or maybe it was the voices. It would have been better if Parker had learned a few more life lessons before she discovered her damned gift. Well, too late for that. Now Margaret had to find a way to regain some control of the situation. Erin still watched the Kinlock Inn and Donal was still at Penfield, the couple's most likely destinations. Plans could be salvaged if everyone did a better job of relaying information this time. She would be waiting for Parker to come to her, and she intended to be ready.
Jarod drove toward Kyle of Lochalsh. Parker dozed in the seat beside him. Jarod looked at her. The warm afternoon light gave her a bit of color but she looked exhausted. She had protested that they needed to stay at the Caer, watch the sweepers, and follow them back to Margaret. Jarod refused to even consider it as an option. He wanted her far away from that place. They had argued for several miles, but Parker was too tired to keep it up for long. Parker too tired to argue? That was worrisome. He knew she had driven all night to get to Inverness ahead of the sweepers because of something Violet Penfield's sister had said to her.
Lillias was a person he looked forward to meeting and dreaded to meet at the same time. Parker said Lillias knew his mother, or someone who claimed to be her. Jarod also wanted to see Ethan and hear what his brother's voices had to say on the situation.
Parker made a small sound and Jarod looked at her again. Her eyes were open and she managed a wan smile. "Sorry, I've been doing that a lot lately."
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes, just perpetually tired."
"That will pass once you're into the second trimester. The hormonal changes you're experiencing..."
"Tend to make me tired and irritable. You might want to keep that in mind before you recite the whole OB/GYN manual to me."
Jarod just smiled at her and returned his focus to driving.
"I think it's more mental exhaustion if you want to know the truth," said Parker. "This week has been too full of changes."
"I'm sorry, Parker, that I haven't been there."
"You can't be there every second, but for right now we have to stay together. It's what Margaret," she paused, "The Centre fears most. If we stay together, they cannot beat us."
Jarod was silent for several minutes. He cleared his throat bracing himself for the reaction he was about to cause, "I think you should stay in Kyle of Lochalsh."
Parker bit back her first reply, "And you will be where?"
"I'll be finding out what happened to you. What The Centre has done to my mother...if you're right, and I still don't think you are. Parker, if you could have seen her, been with her last night..."
"I have seen her, Jarod!" her voice became a growl. "I know what she's done to me, to us, what she wants to do to our son." She saw the set of Jarod's jaw, the desperate look in his eyes. "You'll listen to Lillias and Ethan, we'll find the damned journals and you'll see!" She found herself slightly out of breath.
"I'm sorry, Annsachd, I didn't mean to upset you." Jarod felt torn in opposite directions.
Parker deliberately calmed herself. He was so damned stubborn, but he loved her. "I wish you didn't have to, Jarod, but you will never be safe until you believe the truth." She touched his hand briefly. "Once we get to Ceol Na Mara and rest a bit we can talk about it calmly and make a plan. I intend to see your mother again."
Jarod's jaw clenched, but he dropped the subject.
Parker spent some time staring out the window, reliving her earlier flashback, looking for clues as to Margaret's whereabouts. Something tugged at the corner of her memory. She reached a hand into her pocket and pulled out the key ring with her house keys on it. One key was missing, a small one, but she had seen it recently.
"Jarod, can I see your keys?"
Jarod hesitated. "Ah, sure." He dug in his pocket and pulled out his now useless car keys and one other. He handed them to Parker and braced for another explosion.
Parker picked out the key she remembered. "Where did you get this one?" she tried not to sound accusatory.
"From your key ring," in a small voice.
"And why?"
"I knew it meant something. You lost your memory, and I thought if I could find out what it was I could help you."
Parker nodded, "I'm taking it back now." She removed the key and returned the rest to Jarod.
Jarod glanced at her; she smiled at him; he started breathing again, relieved. After a few seconds he got the silly grin on his face that usually irritated Parker. "What?" she asked.
"It's a boy."
Parker laughed. There was nothing else to say for the moment.
Erin Gordon had taken to meeting the train, every train, every day, coming to or going from Kyle of Lochalsh. She'd been doing it since she got Maggie Abbott's call several days ago. It was never her favorite occupation, standing hidden in the shadows while friends and lovers greeted one another. At least the station was a busier with vacationers in the summer. Now business had slowed and the wind was much colder. Just a minute till the few afternoon passengers disembarked and she could be getting back to the tavern and a nice hot toddy.
Erin turned her collar up and stamped her feet. It felt like snow in the air even though it was a bit early in the season, and she had noticed tightness in her chest when she got up this morning. She coughed slightly. The conductor was taking his sweet time getting the doors open and the steps out. Just as Erin decided there were no arrivals this train and started to turn away she saw Alasdair Ross pull up in his old truck. She forgot the cold; her hand went automatically to the cell phone in her pocket; and her eyes fixed on the train door.
Her attention was rewarded after several more interminable minutes. Lillias stepped off the train and embraced her husband. The two were a bit old for that, weren't they? A young boy jumped from train to platform without touching a step. Now, who would that be? Erin wondered. The Rosses had no children, a fact lamented by all the town's old women, and therefore no grandchildren. Lillias must have some a good reason to be dragging what looked to be a school-age boy on holiday with her.
Erin pulled out her phone and hit the first programmed number. Margaret answered on the second ring, "Yes?"
"Lillias Ross has come home from Inverness, Ma'am."
Margaret's eyebrows rose in surprise, "That was rather quick. Is there a problem?"
"Nae wit' them, as far as I can tell. But she brought a wee lad wit her, no more than five or six. I've naer seen him afore."
"What's he look like?"
"Slender, fair, curly dark hair, light eyes."
Margaret's surprise turned to cold rage. "I know who he is, and he's not important to you. What is important is for you to keep watch on the Ross place. I need to know immediately if they get any new or return visitors. Don't let me down this time."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Margaret cut the call and her phone flew again. Donal Ferguson had made a grievous error in sending his grandson with Lillias, but he was still not out of control. Once she got to Abbott Hall he would certainly learn as much. She drove her son's rental car to Glasgow, dropped it at the train station and caught the train to Penrith.
Erin followed the Rosses back to the Kinlock Inn.
Lillias was relieved to be home. She smiled at herself, turning into an old lady, afraid to leave her back porch because somewhat might happen. But much had happened in a little over a day. One of the most important changes waited for her in Ceol Na Mara. She handed the still energetic Ian over to Alasdair's care and walked quickly to the cottage near the sea.
Ethan was waiting just inside Ceol Na Mara, pacing nervously. He stood very still for almost a minute after Lillias walked in the door. She knew there was no point in speaking to him immediately; he paid attention to too many voices, never having learned to sort and silence them well.
Finally, he smiled a sweet, simple smile. "Hello, Aunt Lillias. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Lillias immediately embraced him. "Hello, me love. It's been a very long time I been waitin' t' meet ye. Ye're just as handsome as yer mither was bonnie."
Ethan shivered and began to cry. Lillias held him away from her and smiled affectionately. "Whist, child, I dinna mean t' squeeze tears outa ye." She laughed and hugged him again.
"I don't know why I'm crying. You didn't do anything. I don't know why."
"Tis because ye're happy t' be here, lad, and ye have a right t' be happy. Stay wit' me fer a bit and ye will learn what yer should ha' been taught. We'll find a way fer ye 't stay happy.
"You'll teach me," he said in a tone of wonder, "to make the voices stop?"
"I canna stop them, love, but ye can learn t' quiet them a bit and come t' peace wit yer gift."
Ethan nodded, "I am happy to be here. And Parker is coming back now."
"Is she, lad? My, my, I best be careful; or ye and yer gift are sure t' put me t' shame. Well, if yer sister be comin we better get 't cookin. I hear that man o' hers loves t' eat."
"How do you know Jarod's with her?"
"Parker would nae be comin' back without him." They smiled at each other and headed for the kitchen.
Some two hours after arriving at her post, Erin's patience had worn thin. She feared Maggie Abbott but she was shivering, felt as though she had a fever, and was to the point where she did not care what Maggie did to her.
In a day or two Maggie would be off to rule the world or meddle in someone else's life. It was times like these that Erin regretted Margaret's interference in her husband's murder investigation. The help had been welcome at the time. The police had been closing in on her, and she knew she had made mistakes. She thought she would spend the rest of her life in prison for killing that lazy drunkard. Maggie had pointed one particularly damning piece of evidence out to her. Then she arranged an alibi and covered Erin's tracks. She had been properly grateful at the time. Now Erin knew she had sold her soul to yet another devil, with no possible redemption.
Night was falling and a fine rain mixed with snow. Erin just finished a coughing fit when her surveillance paid off. A familiar car returned to the Inn. The Parker woman was in the passenger seat. A dark man parked the car then came around and helped the woman out of the car and up to the Inn.
This news would make Maggie Abbott's day, one way or the other. Erin pulled out her cell phone and realized the battery was dead. Well, it was Fate then. If she had called Maggie, she would have been ordered to stay here the night. They'd just got here; calling could wait till morning. There was a hot toddy and a bed calling her. Erin pocketed the phone and went home.
Jarod did not need a tour of the Inn; his nose led him directly to the kitchen. He did not need to be introduced to Lillias; Ethan yelled his name and practically tackled him. Lillias opened the door and told them to take their wrestling out of her kitchen. They obeyed, barely disengaging long enough to get through the doorway.
Lillias laughed and went to meet her niece in the parlor. She did not need an introduction to Parker either. "Ah, lassie, ye are yer mother come back t' me." She opened her arms and Parker came into them.
"A...aunt Lillias, it's good to be here." Parker felt tears coming into her eyes; she wiped at them.
Lillias released her slightly, "I seem t' be havin' that effect on people today. Ethan was fair blubbering when we met.
"I'm sorry, I don't usually do that. I need a little down time; I'm a bit worn around the edges." Parker smiled faintly. "I just hope we're not bringing trouble with us."
"That 'trouble' will nae bother ye here. And ye have good reason t' be weary, love, ye been gallivanting all over the countryside. That wee bairn ye're carrying needs ye t' care fer yerself. Ye should get yerself t' the cottage and a nap richt now."
"I would love that, but first I need you and Ethan to talk to Jarod. Where are they?"
"They be outside where they canna break furniture whilst they play. Supper'll be ready soon. Alasdair is settling our other young houseguest, Ian, into a room upstairs. They can eat up there. My cooking will hold yer man still while we talk at him." Lillias took Parker's hand and patted it. "Come in the kitchen while I finish and have a bit o' tea"
Lillias kept hold of Parker's hand as they walked into the kitchen. Both women kept their dialogue light, avoiding any mention of Maggie Abbott or their gift. Parker spoke of the weather in Scotland and the States. Lillias spoke of her gardens and cooking. Soon the conversation comfortably petered out and they sat at the table, silently sipping tea.
Lillias had just prepared two plates for Alasdair and Ian when Jarod and Ethan burst into the kitchen. They were met by her stern tone.
"Ye two get yerselves back out that door till ye brush all the leaves and grass off yer clothes."
"Yes, ma'am, " they said in unison, and obeyed.
Lillias inspected them when they walked back in and decided their clothes would do. She sent Ethan upstairs with the tray of food while she considered Jarod. "So, ye be Maggie Abbott's son," she nodded to herself, "and my lass's young man. There is nae much of Maggie about ye. 'Tis a blessing."
Jarod was unsure of how to respond. Lillias continued.
"Sorry, lad. Jarod is it? I have no love fer the woman who calls herself yer mother. But the lass here loves ye and Ethan tells me ye be worthy of it, and Catie always cherished ye."
"She did?"
Aye, lad, she did. And if she did, then I will too." Jarod gave her his most winning smile. Lillias just laughed. "I've kept far too many nieces and nephews to be taken in quite that easy, lad. Ye just go wash yer hands and set yerself down at table. Dinner be ready and then we must talk."
Jarod smile faded slightly. Lillias quickly added, "Don't worry, dearie, we'll let ye eat yer fill first."
They both turned toward the sound of Parker's laughter.
"Jarod always has his priorities straight."
Dinner was pleasant. Ethan told about his travels around Scotland. He deliberately neglected to mention the photograph album he had found at his adoptive parents' house or the iron gates where the photograph had led him. Parker recounted her travelogue. Lillias spoke of her honeymoon in Ireland and trips to Europe.
Jarod was reticent, making only small comments. Parker could see his tension. He smiled and ate seconds of Lillias' good food but his eyes darted around like a cornered animal, only waiting for the axe to fall. It did fall, but gently as any alarm clock could wake a dreamer from his fantasy. Jarod listened, he argued, he heard, he accepted what they said, and toward the end of the evening he cried a bit.
Parker had hoped he would really believe them; maybe even agree to help them bring Maggie Abbott, who he knew as mother, to justice. She could tell he was still far from that point, but there was time. After they relaxed a bit and reestablished their relationship, in a day or two, they would find Margaret's diaries, and she would convince him.
Still, Parker was relieved by his acceptance of their discussion. With that relief came an intense awareness of her exhaustion. She felt as though she might doze off sitting upright. Jarod noticed immediately. He insisted that Parker go to Ceol Na Mara and get some sleep. Lillias backed up his demand. Parker did not have the energy to argue. Jarod put his arm around her waist again and helped her to the cottage. It felt wonderful having him walk next to her, safe from The Centre and his mother. She could almost believe everything would be all right.
Jarod tucked Parker into bed while she joked about his being so attentive. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. He knew Lillias and Ethan were still in the kitchen, cleaning up and talking. Ethan had moved his things to the Inn so that Jarod and Parker could have privacy. He wanted to go back and talk to Lillias, but he wanted to stay with Parker more. He undressed and climbed into bed. The feeling of her in his arms again was wonderful; hearing Parker mumble in her sleep and feeling her snuggle against him was almost too good. But Jarod could not sleep. The evening's conversation reran through his mind a hundred times. He had listened to what they said, he had understood and knew they told the truth.
But he could not believe.
Jarod lay next to Parker until one a.m. Finally, he could stay still no longer; he got up and redressed. He glanced toward the Inn and found all the windows dark. He went downstairs and paced around the cottage. He wanted to be here but felt trapped.
Jarod walked through the kitchen and out onto the upper porch. The rain had stopped and there were only a few icy flakes of snow on the wind. He went back in, grabbed a coat and went down to the lower deck. Ethan had taken him to the edge of the cliff to see the ocean; now he took the wooden stairs to the beach. Slogging through sodden half-frozen sand was exhausting. Keeping his bearings by storm-darkened moonlight required concentration, and the sound of the breakers drowned out all thought. It was perfect.
By the time Jarod climbed back up the stairway to the cottage his hands, feet, and mind were numb. He ran warm water over his hands until his fingers were thawed enough to unbutton his coat and undo his frozen shoelaces. He thought he might be in trouble if Lillias saw the sand he had track into the kitchen. He smiled at that thought but it brought back all the rest. He sighed, put his wet things near the radiator and cleaned up the floor.
Jarod went into the living room and sat in a large comfortable chair. He closed his eyes. It was three a. m. He had not slept in nearly twenty-four hours and he was exhausted from the walk. He opened his eyes. He picked up a deck of cards from the side table and put them down. He thumbed through a magazine but nothing registered. As he tossed it back onto the table he noticed a photo album that had been under it. He picked it up, not expecting to recognize anyone in the photos. A picture of Ethan fell out when he opened the book.
Jarod took the photo album to the kitchen table for a better look. He no sooner sat than the phone rang. God, it was going to wake Parker. He jumped up and grabbed the receiver halfway through the second ring. "Hello?"
"Hello...do I have the correct number?" said a very familiar voice.
"Sydney?"
"Jarod? You found her? You're together?"
"Well, actually she found me. But we're both here...I guess you know where here is?"
"Yes. I'm calling from my private phone at home."
Jarod glanced at the clock. It would be about ten at night in Blue Cove; Sydney probably just got home. "Do you need me to wake Parker?" He moved the telephone to the table and opened the album.
"No, I can tell you what I've learned. If I'd known you were together the call would have waited." Sydney sounded slightly hurt.
"It's been less than a day, and a lot was happening. I was going to call you tomorrow."
Sydney accepted that as an apology. "I have information on Lachlan Abbott"
"That's interesting. I just got some information on his sister."
Sydney paused, trying to interpret the tone of Jarod's voice. "I'm sorry. I can't remember what I've told you as opposed to what I've told Miss Parker."
"I know Abbott died or was murdered on April 15, 1970 in Inverness. I know he was a photographer." Jarod's hand fell on the photograph that had taken Ethan to Penrith. The gold embossed name on the front, Lachlan Abbott. "I'm relatively sure that he worked for MI6 in some capacity."
"He may also have been working for The Centre."
That drew Jarod's attention. "How?"
"An FBI agent opened a file on Abbott in September of 1969. According to the file he knew facts about kidnappings that resulted in children coming to The Centre. He knew a good bit about your kidnapping. The agent was very suspicious but a higher official called off the investigation; it could have been either MI6 or The Centre."
For a moment Jarod grasped at that straw. Lachlan was the kidnapper; that's how his mother was involved. She was trying to stop him. Jarod realized that Sydney was waiting for him to speak. "Has Broots tried the MI6 files?" He pulled the photo from the album for closer examination. It was in terrible condition.
"Without too much luck. We did find a family address though, a place known as Abbott Hall, no street number, Penrith, Cumbria, England."
Jarod jotted the information down on a notepad Lillias kept with the phone. He turned over the photograph in his other hand. With a lot of imagination he could make out P and the number 69. "Tell Broots I need, Miss Parker needs him to keep looking. What you've given me is very useful."
"I will keep you posted. I would appreciate a call if anything changes."
Jarod heard the concern in Sydney's voice and assumed it was for Parker. "She's fine, Sydney, actually more than fine. She has some good news, about family, but I'll let her tell you herself."
Sydney still could not bring himself to correct Jarod's interpretation. "Very good. Take care."
"You too, and Broots." They disconnected.
Jarod reexamined the album. It was basically family photographs, Christmases and birthdays. Ethan looked happy in some, confused in others. He had been well treated by his foster parents if you did not count their allowing Mr. Raines to distort his gift. The photo taken by Lachlan Abbott was the only one not of family members. Out of place from the rest it was conspicuous. It was also badly faded and slightly water damaged.
Jarod went to his suitcase, in the living room where he had left it. He got out his little bag of tools/toys, including a 30X double loop magnifier, and returned to the photo. Two of the subjects were relatively visible, Catherine Parker and Mr. Raines. With magnification he could make out Edna Raines and his mother. Margaret stood alone, Edna stood with her husband, and Catherine stood beside a man whose face was all but erased.
Jarod reversed the photo. The writing was small and cramped. Moisture had caused the ink to bleed. The names were impossible to read. The year was definitely 1969. The month was illegible except that it had four letters; that agreed with the photo, in which it appeared to be summer. Jarod could make out P-e-n then a smudge and t-h, Penrith. There were two words before that, the first began with A and ended with t; the second had four letters, Abbott Hall.
So, the photograph was taken at the elaborate gate of Abbott Hall. Jarod examined the photo again. By stature and clothes, Jarod guessed the faceless man was Mr. Parker. If he had his computer he could scan the print and enhance it, but his computer was back in Violet Penfield's Inn. But Ethan was here, and where Ethan went his computer went. Jarod put the photo in his pocket. He put on his slightly damp shoes and moved quietly from the cottage to the Inn.
Ethan's laptop was in a corner of the kitchen. Jarod set it up on the table. Apparently Ethan had not packed a scanner, just a compact printer. So much for identifying the mystery man in the photo. Well, it did prove that Lachlan Abbott knew Raines and Catherine Parker. Jarod decided to try hacking into MI6. British Intelligence was pretty good at locking up their information behind code but Jarod was into their old personnel files within two hours. Broots would be chagrinned; Jarod decided to let him crack the code on his own.
The files were relatively straightforward. Lachlan Abbott was a MI6 operative. His career and excellent reputation as a photographer allowed him to travel widely and make interesting friends.
According to the records his sister, Margaret, became friends with Catherine Jamison Parker in college. Margaret worked for The Centre after graduating medical school. That was a surprise to Jarod. He never thought of his mother as anything other than a housewife and dedicated mother. She was a physician at The Centre, like Sydney, like Tommy Thompson, like Raines.
Jarod felt sick in the stomach. He was tempted to shut down the computer and try to pretend he never saw it. But he couldn't turn away; he just had to look. Lachlan had encouraged Margaret's choice of employer. MI6 found Centre operations very interesting but not dangerous to its purposes. They also found them hard to infiltrate. Lachlan hoped to use his sister to gather information at The Centre. Margaret apparently quit to have a family. She was allowed to quit the Centre? That was the extent of information on Margaret.
Lachlan had a private project, which was approved by his superiors. When not on assignment he investigated the kidnappings of his two nephews and similar kidnappings. He started searching intermittently when Jarod was taken; it became a mission after Kyle disappeared. He recorded that he did not believe individuals took both his nephews from his beloved sister. He moved Margaret and her infant daughter to Abbott Hall while he and Major Charles conducted independent searches. Margaret kept in touch with Catherine Parker and introduced Lachlan to the Raines and the Parkers in 1969.
There was little additional information on Lachlan Abbott, other than that his death was highly suspicious and the case was still designated active in MI6 files even though listed as accidental by the police. He died less than a year after meeting Catherine Parker and two days after her disappearance from The Centre.
Jarod shut down Ethan's computer with shaking hands. He felt like his stomach had turned inside out. He had to talk to his mother. He had to see her ask her hear her say it was a mistake. Or hear her admit that she had sold him, her own son, to The Centre. And he had to do it alone. Now he knew where to look, Abbott Hall.
Jarod returned the laptop to its case. He slipped back into Ceol Na Mara long enough to get his coat and gun. He intended to get Ethan's keys from the Inn kitchen and get away before Ethan or Parker woke. He was so focused that he did not see Lillias sitting at the table when he walked back in. She did not move, but her voice stopped him cold, "Where are ye goin', lad?"
He grabbed the keys from the counter and turned toward her direction, but did not meet her gaze. "I need to find her. Lillias, I need to confront her. Ask her. See proof. I can't believe it till I do."
"Aye, lad, I can understand that. But ye be putting yerself in grave danger."
He raised his eyes to hers, "I have to do this. She loved me; I know it. She loved me. I remember it, I knew it, I saw it." He clutched the keys so tightly his knuckles went white.
Lillias saw how much he was torn and it broke her heart. Maggie Abbott did not deserve such loyalty. "There be a woman sleeping in the cottage that loves ye now."
"You know what Parker's been through. She's exhausted. She needs to rest for longer than one night."
"Ye could wait."
Jarod smiled ingenuously, "I'm not that good at waiting."
Lillias stood and walked to him. "Ye don't want to wait because you're afraid of what might happen when they meet." She put a hand on his arm.
Jarod looked guilty. "Yes."
"I'll nae argue with ye, lad, but ye should beware. We told ye true about Maggie Abbott."
"She's my mother. She gave me life."
"And that may be the one true thing she's done fer ye." Lillias put her arms around Jarod and embraced him. She could not think of much else to do for him.
Jarod returned her hug; it almost stopped his leaving. "Take care of Parker. Keep her here. I promise I'll be back tomorrow." Jarod turned and left.
Lillias hardly needed the chill from her gift to know that was not likely.
The Truth Hurts
Part 23
by Paula
Parker and Jarod stood, holding each other, in St. Gilleabart's rectory. Parker did not want to move. Moving would mean she had to start explaining her actions and hurting Jarod. Right here right now, she could relive the discovery of their love and pretend that the last few days had never taken place.
Jarod stopped shaking after a few moments. He was sure his legs would hold him now but continued to cling to Parker, to inhale her fragrance, and feel her warmth against him. He tried to calm his emotions. Parker remembered. She remembered everything, and he had her back. He started to tremble again, and as he felt Parker stroke his back, he sighed. What had just gone on between the women he loved? His mother had been afraid of Parker and Parker had begged him to leave the one person who meant family to him. Family...Parker knew about the baby.
Jarod pulled away from Parker, held her at arms length and studied her face in amazement. "You know about the baby?"
"Yes," she smiled, "I know."
"Are you all right? Is everything all right? Are you upset about it, about us?"
"No, Jarod." Parker felt an impulse to laugh, "If there is anything in this whole situation that does not upset me it's our son."
"It's a boy?" Jarod grinned foolishly; then sobered, "Parker what just happened? What happened to you? To your memory?" Both of them jumped when they heard a car engine come to life near the kirk. Jarod hand flew to his pocket. His keys were still there even though his car was screeching away; apparently his mother knew how to hotwire. Jarod smiled quizzically and showed Parker the keys. She did not share his amusement.
"Jarod, much as I would love to just stand here with you forever. The stories need to wait until we get away. I don't know how long we have but I'm sure we have to move now."
"But my mother..."
"Your mother works for The Centre." It was as much of the truth as she could risk. The shock and disbelief on Jarod's face sent a jab of pain through her heart. "Before you say anything or try to defend her, please, just believe me enough to go with me now."
The struggle was visible, "Yes, Parker." He took a breath; thoughts of action took the place of questions. "My things are in the other room. Do you have a car or anything?"
"I'm parked half a mile up the road." She took his hand in hers and he squeezed it. Somehow, no matter how terrible things were right now, that was enough to make her feel content. Jarod grabbed his bag and they headed down the stairs. He stopped suddenly at the door and looked at her feet, "Ah, Parker, you might consider putting on your shoes. Stockings just don't make it on cobble stones."
She punched him in the arm but made no comment as he retrieved her shoes. He steadied her while she put them on. She knew he needed to help her even if she did not need the help. She wondered if she could get used to being pampered after so many years of being tough. Jarod straightened and looked at her to reassure himself of the current reality. The look in his eyes melted her heart. Now it was her turn to sigh. Damn he was adorable. For a second she forgot why they were in a hurry, put her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Jarod responded appropriately. After a minute or so her mind started functioning again and she disengaged her mouth from his. "We have to boogie, Jarod."
"Boogie?" he asked absently, toying with the tips of her hair.
"Move, as in now." Parker grabbed Jarod's elbow and pushed him toward the door. He opened it a crack to check for trouble and then pushed it all the way open. They hurried away from St. Gilleabart's. Jarod scanned for sweepers; Parker scanned for Margaret.
They made it to the car with no problems. Jarod threw his bag in the back and climbed into the passenger seat. "Where to now?"
Parker started the car and drove west. "Kyle of Lochalsh. Ethan's there."
"Ethan? In Scotland?" Jarod was surprised but pleased. "You found him?"
"He found me. He helped me recover my memories; he had a bit of assistance from his nephew." Parker rested a hand on her still-flat stomach.
"Nephew? You mean our baby?" Jarod stared at the spot where her hand rested. "I hate to seem clueless here, Parker, but what are you talking about?"
"Cameron, he told me his name by the way, is as tenacious as you are. He gave me no peace until I got past the blocks and recovered all my memories. He has Ethan's gift." Parker glanced at Jarod and saw a look of dismay. "No, Jarod, he'll be fine. He has us and Violet's family and we will not allow The Centre to twist his gift or his mind."
Jarod nodded, still slightly confused, "Okay, so Ethan and ...Cameron, they helped you remember what happened before the car wreck, what caused you to loose your memory."
"Not what, Jarod, who." Parker gave Jarod a hard look, gazed ahead for a few seconds, chewing the inside of her cheek, then pulled the car abruptly off the road. She threw it into park and turned in the seat. "The 'who,' my love," Parker took his face in her hands, "is Margaret, your mother."
Jarod jerked as though she spat at him; he tried to turn his head but Parker held his face and his gaze. He shut his eyes. "I don't believe you." He shook his head slightly and opened his eyes.
"You know I wouldn't lie to you, Baby. Don't you?"
Jarod's eyes opened. "I don't think you're lying, Parker." He put his hands over hers and pulled them down and together. He held them in his lap, absently rubbing his thumbs over her wrists. He dropped his eyes for a second then returned them to her face. "I just can't believe it's true. It may be a memory aberration caused by whatever drugs you were given or a false memory put into your brain to separate me from my mother, or you."
Parker sighed and squeezed Jarod's hands. "I'm not sure I expected you to believe me. I hoped, but I knew it would be too hard. It's true, Jarod, and I can prove it. Your mo... Margaret keeps journals. I found some of them at the Caer. That's where I was when she caught me reading her words. She incriminated herself. I can show you; I'll take you there now." Parker swiveled forward in her seat.
"No, Annsachd," Jarod's using his name for her sent a pleasant chill down Parker's back. "I'll go to Caer Erract; you'll wait somewhere safe or, better yet, go to Ethan while I do. I'll find you after."
"Jarod, I won't be separated from you again." It was a statement set in stone with just a tinge of fear.
Jarod had expected disagreement but when he saw the look in Parker's eyes he knew he would not win this argument. He frowned.
"Besides, I know exactly where the diaries are hidden, and I believe she's afraid of me."
"If what you say is true, and I don't believe it is, then she would be very afraid of you if she knew anything about you." Jarod half smiled. Parker touched her hand to his cheek, put the car in gear, turned around and drove toward the Caer.
Parker knew by the set of Jarod's jaw that he had no intention of believing her. He was staring straight ahead; probably thinking up plausible explanations for her accusations or excuses for Margaret's actions. Denial was a wonderful thing. God knew she understood how someone could deny the truth about a parent.
The drive to the Caer was short and silent. Jarod immediately took charge. Parker allowed it with hidden amusement; he was something to watch in action. He had her park the car just behind an overgrown stone fence to the side of the hill. It was slightly below the Caer, within easy running distance but well hidden. He told her to stay with the car while he reconnoitered. Parker followed as soon as he disappeared around the side of the hill. She kept him in sight as well as she could while staying hidden. He looked in her direction often, but kept moving slowly around and toward the Caer. When he was satisfied, he went to work at a locked door on the side of the hill toward the car.
Parker joined him at the door. He was not at all surprised and not all that happy. "Didn't you think I'd come back for you?"
"No," she answered with a wry tone.
"You were right." He got the latch. "But as long as you're here," he pushed the door open and stood to one side, "we may as well go in."
Parker bowed slightly and entered first. Jarod followed, shutting the door behind him. "As best I can tell, there's no one here now. But there has been activity, car tracks several days old and older, and foot traffic more recently. There's no smoke now but I can smell the traces of old fires so someone may have been living here."
"Your..." she stopped. He would know soon enough. "I know where to look." Parker took the lead. She noticed Jarod taking in every detail, including the presence of relatively new electric wiring on the lower levels. As they ascended to ground level and above the accommodations were more primitive. There was still no sign of human presence other than their own. Parker led them as directly as possible to Margaret's tower rooms.
Once they reached the tower, Jarod took the lead again. He went to work at picking the obviously new lock. He had a much harder time than Parker expected. Or was he hesitant to solve it? He finally succeeded with the lock and opened the door.
The room was cool; wood was set in the hearth, unlit, but it looked like occupancy was imminent. Jarod was even more wary, "We need to get what we came for and get out of here, Parker. This has the makings of a trap."
"Yes, I know. I was caught in it once." Parker walked past Jarod and into the room. Chills ran down her spine. The longer she was in the Caer the harder it was to keep moving. She really wanted out of here. Instead of bolting, Parker went directly to an antique cupboard that hid the safe where she had found the journals. On her previous visit the safe was not locked; this time it was. "Jarod, you've pretended to be a safecracker a few times. Try this one."
"Apparently, breaking and entering is turning into my most useful skill." He cocked an eyebrow at her and attended to the safe. It was open in a minute.
It was completely empty.
Jarod heard Parker swear softly and angrily, but somehow all he could feel was relief. The feeling puzzled him. He knew Parker was wrong about his mother. He knew there were no journals. But if Parker was wrong then why had his mother run? And if he was so sure then why was he relieved? "This is where you thought you found journals?"
"This IS where they were, in a locked box." Her memory had been stolen because of them. "Do you think this castle has empty safes behind every cupboard?"
Jarod decided that was meant to be a rhetorical question. "Maybe there's other evidence." Jarod turned slowly, taking in the small, sparsely furnished room. It was meticulous. There was another door fireside. "What's through there?"
"Her bedroom. I'll check it." Parker's actions echoed her words.
Jarod walked over to a leather chair and side table near the hearth. Both were bare; the table was dustless; the arms of the chair shone as though newly cleaned. That in itself was suspicious. He frowned, and walked to the only other furniture in the room, a lovely old desk. The drawers were unlocked and it only took moments to verify that there was nothing personal there. Jarod carefully pocketed a pen to run a fingerprint check later. He joined Parker in the other room.
Parker slid from under the bed. She looked up at Jarod but could not gather the energy to rise. "Nothing. Not even clothes in the cupboard. Just sheets, towels and blankets; all freshly washed."
Jarod nodded. This was the way he left a room when he didn't want The Centre to know he'd been there. He looked out the window. There was a person in the brush to the front of the Caer; they were not doing a very good job of hiding. He looked into the distance. There were two cars coming this way from Inverness. They were not yet on the road to the Caer, but they were traveling a bit fast for local traffic. "Parker, it's time to go."
Parker did not question Jarod. The tone of his voice was enough to snap her to her feet even if he had not grasped her hand and pulled her up. She glanced out the window and saw the dust on the far road. They started to run.
They made excellent time getting back down to the basement level. They were almost at the door when Parker stopped. Jarod spun around, expecting trouble.
Parker was staring down a side hall, still as stone. Jarod studied her point of view but saw only darkness. He turned to her. She was breathing shallowly. "Parker?" he asked softly, touching her arm.
But Parker was somewhere else. She was ripping through a box of files in a small dungeon when Margaret found her. She lay on a concrete slab, her wrists and ankles shackled into place by old manacles, and Margaret was smiling at her while one of her doctors readied a syringe of something that would put her through hell. She screamed as Margaret turned away, the syringe entered her arm and everything spun into nothing.
Parker returned to reality to find Jarod bracing her with an arm around her shoulder. She was trembling and exhausted. "Jarod, they had me down here, in one of those rooms. And there were Centre records." She pointed down the black hall. "There could be something there. We have to check."
"This place has been cleaned, Parker, an excellent job. IF there was anything here to lead us to whoever took your memory, it's gone now. It would be a waste of time we don't have."
Parker looked wistfully down the hall, but nodded acceptance. Jarod moved his arm to her waist and supported her as they ran out of the Caer to the car. Jarod kept his free hand on his gun. He expected an attack from the man in the bushes but none came.
Parker's legs threatened to give way, but they made it to the car. She gratefully slid into the passenger seat. Jarod took the driver's side. He drove slowly so as not to raise dust and positioned them just short of the spot where their driveway met the main drive. Two black cars swept past on their way to the Caer. Jarod used their dust cloud as cover to drive the opposite direction.
Fergus Campbell watched two cars of sweepers come up the drive just as he had watched Jarod and Parker come earlier. He was somewhat proud that he avoided Jarod's scouting. He knew the younger man was careful, but he lived on this land and he knew how to hide. It had been harder for Fergus to stay away from them. They were obviously as one again and he wanted to warn them that the Sassenach's plans were not done. She had sent him here in a bit of a panic-he smiled at that thought-to be sure there was no evidence of her identity left in the Caer. He had done his job although he had considered betraying her. His small concession to his own conscience had been to partially reveal himself in the thin autumn bushes. Fergus half hoped that Jarod would confront him so that he could confess.
When the couple left the Caer, he saw that the lass was exhausted and knew the lad would want to be gone before the sweepers got there. Fergus decided it was not his station to be the Sassenach's accuser, at least not now. If there were indeed a God, He would see to that devil's downfall.
Fergus smiled again as he watched Parker's car exit the dust cloud and speed away from the Caer. He pulled out his cellular phone and dialed.
The phone was answered immediately, "Well?"
"They been here and gone, Missus."
"Did they find anything?" she growled.
"No' that I could see. They were nae here long."
"Good. And the sweepers?"
"They be arriving now, Missus, but they be too late." By seconds but she did not need to know.
Margaret swore under her breath.
"It's nae my place to say so, Missus, but the lass seemed a bit worn down like."
"It's not your place to say anything. Tell those idiots to turn their cars around and get to Abbott Hall as soon as possible. And you come with them. Parker will still want to find me and I'll be waiting."
Fergus said "Aye" into a dead line. He waited in the driveway until the cars came to a stop. He got into the second car with a package the Sassenach wanted taken to her. He told the sweepers to thoroughly check the Caer and then return to Penrith. The inspection would only keep the sweepers off the road for a few minutes, just long enough to be sure the road was clear.
Margaret Abbott hung up on Fergus and threw the cell phone on the car seat. She continued driving south while she reached into her purse and touched her latest journal. The previous journal, and a few other personal items, would arrive at Abbott Hall with Campbell.
So the "royal" couple was free and together. This could not be tolerated. Somehow Parker had regained her memory, which meant another wipe would probably be no more successful. Something must have happened in Kyle of Lochalsh, or maybe it was the voices. It would have been better if Parker had learned a few more life lessons before she discovered her damned gift. Well, too late for that. Now Margaret had to find a way to regain some control of the situation. Erin still watched the Kinlock Inn and Donal was still at Penfield, the couple's most likely destinations. Plans could be salvaged if everyone did a better job of relaying information this time. She would be waiting for Parker to come to her, and she intended to be ready.
Jarod drove toward Kyle of Lochalsh. Parker dozed in the seat beside him. Jarod looked at her. The warm afternoon light gave her a bit of color but she looked exhausted. She had protested that they needed to stay at the Caer, watch the sweepers, and follow them back to Margaret. Jarod refused to even consider it as an option. He wanted her far away from that place. They had argued for several miles, but Parker was too tired to keep it up for long. Parker too tired to argue? That was worrisome. He knew she had driven all night to get to Inverness ahead of the sweepers because of something Violet Penfield's sister had said to her.
Lillias was a person he looked forward to meeting and dreaded to meet at the same time. Parker said Lillias knew his mother, or someone who claimed to be her. Jarod also wanted to see Ethan and hear what his brother's voices had to say on the situation.
Parker made a small sound and Jarod looked at her again. Her eyes were open and she managed a wan smile. "Sorry, I've been doing that a lot lately."
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes, just perpetually tired."
"That will pass once you're into the second trimester. The hormonal changes you're experiencing..."
"Tend to make me tired and irritable. You might want to keep that in mind before you recite the whole OB/GYN manual to me."
Jarod just smiled at her and returned his focus to driving.
"I think it's more mental exhaustion if you want to know the truth," said Parker. "This week has been too full of changes."
"I'm sorry, Parker, that I haven't been there."
"You can't be there every second, but for right now we have to stay together. It's what Margaret," she paused, "The Centre fears most. If we stay together, they cannot beat us."
Jarod was silent for several minutes. He cleared his throat bracing himself for the reaction he was about to cause, "I think you should stay in Kyle of Lochalsh."
Parker bit back her first reply, "And you will be where?"
"I'll be finding out what happened to you. What The Centre has done to my mother...if you're right, and I still don't think you are. Parker, if you could have seen her, been with her last night..."
"I have seen her, Jarod!" her voice became a growl. "I know what she's done to me, to us, what she wants to do to our son." She saw the set of Jarod's jaw, the desperate look in his eyes. "You'll listen to Lillias and Ethan, we'll find the damned journals and you'll see!" She found herself slightly out of breath.
"I'm sorry, Annsachd, I didn't mean to upset you." Jarod felt torn in opposite directions.
Parker deliberately calmed herself. He was so damned stubborn, but he loved her. "I wish you didn't have to, Jarod, but you will never be safe until you believe the truth." She touched his hand briefly. "Once we get to Ceol Na Mara and rest a bit we can talk about it calmly and make a plan. I intend to see your mother again."
Jarod's jaw clenched, but he dropped the subject.
Parker spent some time staring out the window, reliving her earlier flashback, looking for clues as to Margaret's whereabouts. Something tugged at the corner of her memory. She reached a hand into her pocket and pulled out the key ring with her house keys on it. One key was missing, a small one, but she had seen it recently.
"Jarod, can I see your keys?"
Jarod hesitated. "Ah, sure." He dug in his pocket and pulled out his now useless car keys and one other. He handed them to Parker and braced for another explosion.
Parker picked out the key she remembered. "Where did you get this one?" she tried not to sound accusatory.
"From your key ring," in a small voice.
"And why?"
"I knew it meant something. You lost your memory, and I thought if I could find out what it was I could help you."
Parker nodded, "I'm taking it back now." She removed the key and returned the rest to Jarod.
Jarod glanced at her; she smiled at him; he started breathing again, relieved. After a few seconds he got the silly grin on his face that usually irritated Parker. "What?" she asked.
"It's a boy."
Parker laughed. There was nothing else to say for the moment.
Erin Gordon had taken to meeting the train, every train, every day, coming to or going from Kyle of Lochalsh. She'd been doing it since she got Maggie Abbott's call several days ago. It was never her favorite occupation, standing hidden in the shadows while friends and lovers greeted one another. At least the station was a busier with vacationers in the summer. Now business had slowed and the wind was much colder. Just a minute till the few afternoon passengers disembarked and she could be getting back to the tavern and a nice hot toddy.
Erin turned her collar up and stamped her feet. It felt like snow in the air even though it was a bit early in the season, and she had noticed tightness in her chest when she got up this morning. She coughed slightly. The conductor was taking his sweet time getting the doors open and the steps out. Just as Erin decided there were no arrivals this train and started to turn away she saw Alasdair Ross pull up in his old truck. She forgot the cold; her hand went automatically to the cell phone in her pocket; and her eyes fixed on the train door.
Her attention was rewarded after several more interminable minutes. Lillias stepped off the train and embraced her husband. The two were a bit old for that, weren't they? A young boy jumped from train to platform without touching a step. Now, who would that be? Erin wondered. The Rosses had no children, a fact lamented by all the town's old women, and therefore no grandchildren. Lillias must have some a good reason to be dragging what looked to be a school-age boy on holiday with her.
Erin pulled out her phone and hit the first programmed number. Margaret answered on the second ring, "Yes?"
"Lillias Ross has come home from Inverness, Ma'am."
Margaret's eyebrows rose in surprise, "That was rather quick. Is there a problem?"
"Nae wit' them, as far as I can tell. But she brought a wee lad wit her, no more than five or six. I've naer seen him afore."
"What's he look like?"
"Slender, fair, curly dark hair, light eyes."
Margaret's surprise turned to cold rage. "I know who he is, and he's not important to you. What is important is for you to keep watch on the Ross place. I need to know immediately if they get any new or return visitors. Don't let me down this time."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Margaret cut the call and her phone flew again. Donal Ferguson had made a grievous error in sending his grandson with Lillias, but he was still not out of control. Once she got to Abbott Hall he would certainly learn as much. She drove her son's rental car to Glasgow, dropped it at the train station and caught the train to Penrith.
Erin followed the Rosses back to the Kinlock Inn.
Lillias was relieved to be home. She smiled at herself, turning into an old lady, afraid to leave her back porch because somewhat might happen. But much had happened in a little over a day. One of the most important changes waited for her in Ceol Na Mara. She handed the still energetic Ian over to Alasdair's care and walked quickly to the cottage near the sea.
Ethan was waiting just inside Ceol Na Mara, pacing nervously. He stood very still for almost a minute after Lillias walked in the door. She knew there was no point in speaking to him immediately; he paid attention to too many voices, never having learned to sort and silence them well.
Finally, he smiled a sweet, simple smile. "Hello, Aunt Lillias. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Lillias immediately embraced him. "Hello, me love. It's been a very long time I been waitin' t' meet ye. Ye're just as handsome as yer mither was bonnie."
Ethan shivered and began to cry. Lillias held him away from her and smiled affectionately. "Whist, child, I dinna mean t' squeeze tears outa ye." She laughed and hugged him again.
"I don't know why I'm crying. You didn't do anything. I don't know why."
"Tis because ye're happy t' be here, lad, and ye have a right t' be happy. Stay wit' me fer a bit and ye will learn what yer should ha' been taught. We'll find a way fer ye 't stay happy.
"You'll teach me," he said in a tone of wonder, "to make the voices stop?"
"I canna stop them, love, but ye can learn t' quiet them a bit and come t' peace wit yer gift."
Ethan nodded, "I am happy to be here. And Parker is coming back now."
"Is she, lad? My, my, I best be careful; or ye and yer gift are sure t' put me t' shame. Well, if yer sister be comin we better get 't cookin. I hear that man o' hers loves t' eat."
"How do you know Jarod's with her?"
"Parker would nae be comin' back without him." They smiled at each other and headed for the kitchen.
Some two hours after arriving at her post, Erin's patience had worn thin. She feared Maggie Abbott but she was shivering, felt as though she had a fever, and was to the point where she did not care what Maggie did to her.
In a day or two Maggie would be off to rule the world or meddle in someone else's life. It was times like these that Erin regretted Margaret's interference in her husband's murder investigation. The help had been welcome at the time. The police had been closing in on her, and she knew she had made mistakes. She thought she would spend the rest of her life in prison for killing that lazy drunkard. Maggie had pointed one particularly damning piece of evidence out to her. Then she arranged an alibi and covered Erin's tracks. She had been properly grateful at the time. Now Erin knew she had sold her soul to yet another devil, with no possible redemption.
Night was falling and a fine rain mixed with snow. Erin just finished a coughing fit when her surveillance paid off. A familiar car returned to the Inn. The Parker woman was in the passenger seat. A dark man parked the car then came around and helped the woman out of the car and up to the Inn.
This news would make Maggie Abbott's day, one way or the other. Erin pulled out her cell phone and realized the battery was dead. Well, it was Fate then. If she had called Maggie, she would have been ordered to stay here the night. They'd just got here; calling could wait till morning. There was a hot toddy and a bed calling her. Erin pocketed the phone and went home.
Jarod did not need a tour of the Inn; his nose led him directly to the kitchen. He did not need to be introduced to Lillias; Ethan yelled his name and practically tackled him. Lillias opened the door and told them to take their wrestling out of her kitchen. They obeyed, barely disengaging long enough to get through the doorway.
Lillias laughed and went to meet her niece in the parlor. She did not need an introduction to Parker either. "Ah, lassie, ye are yer mother come back t' me." She opened her arms and Parker came into them.
"A...aunt Lillias, it's good to be here." Parker felt tears coming into her eyes; she wiped at them.
Lillias released her slightly, "I seem t' be havin' that effect on people today. Ethan was fair blubbering when we met.
"I'm sorry, I don't usually do that. I need a little down time; I'm a bit worn around the edges." Parker smiled faintly. "I just hope we're not bringing trouble with us."
"That 'trouble' will nae bother ye here. And ye have good reason t' be weary, love, ye been gallivanting all over the countryside. That wee bairn ye're carrying needs ye t' care fer yerself. Ye should get yerself t' the cottage and a nap richt now."
"I would love that, but first I need you and Ethan to talk to Jarod. Where are they?"
"They be outside where they canna break furniture whilst they play. Supper'll be ready soon. Alasdair is settling our other young houseguest, Ian, into a room upstairs. They can eat up there. My cooking will hold yer man still while we talk at him." Lillias took Parker's hand and patted it. "Come in the kitchen while I finish and have a bit o' tea"
Lillias kept hold of Parker's hand as they walked into the kitchen. Both women kept their dialogue light, avoiding any mention of Maggie Abbott or their gift. Parker spoke of the weather in Scotland and the States. Lillias spoke of her gardens and cooking. Soon the conversation comfortably petered out and they sat at the table, silently sipping tea.
Lillias had just prepared two plates for Alasdair and Ian when Jarod and Ethan burst into the kitchen. They were met by her stern tone.
"Ye two get yerselves back out that door till ye brush all the leaves and grass off yer clothes."
"Yes, ma'am, " they said in unison, and obeyed.
Lillias inspected them when they walked back in and decided their clothes would do. She sent Ethan upstairs with the tray of food while she considered Jarod. "So, ye be Maggie Abbott's son," she nodded to herself, "and my lass's young man. There is nae much of Maggie about ye. 'Tis a blessing."
Jarod was unsure of how to respond. Lillias continued.
"Sorry, lad. Jarod is it? I have no love fer the woman who calls herself yer mother. But the lass here loves ye and Ethan tells me ye be worthy of it, and Catie always cherished ye."
"She did?"
Aye, lad, she did. And if she did, then I will too." Jarod gave her his most winning smile. Lillias just laughed. "I've kept far too many nieces and nephews to be taken in quite that easy, lad. Ye just go wash yer hands and set yerself down at table. Dinner be ready and then we must talk."
Jarod smile faded slightly. Lillias quickly added, "Don't worry, dearie, we'll let ye eat yer fill first."
They both turned toward the sound of Parker's laughter.
"Jarod always has his priorities straight."
Dinner was pleasant. Ethan told about his travels around Scotland. He deliberately neglected to mention the photograph album he had found at his adoptive parents' house or the iron gates where the photograph had led him. Parker recounted her travelogue. Lillias spoke of her honeymoon in Ireland and trips to Europe.
Jarod was reticent, making only small comments. Parker could see his tension. He smiled and ate seconds of Lillias' good food but his eyes darted around like a cornered animal, only waiting for the axe to fall. It did fall, but gently as any alarm clock could wake a dreamer from his fantasy. Jarod listened, he argued, he heard, he accepted what they said, and toward the end of the evening he cried a bit.
Parker had hoped he would really believe them; maybe even agree to help them bring Maggie Abbott, who he knew as mother, to justice. She could tell he was still far from that point, but there was time. After they relaxed a bit and reestablished their relationship, in a day or two, they would find Margaret's diaries, and she would convince him.
Still, Parker was relieved by his acceptance of their discussion. With that relief came an intense awareness of her exhaustion. She felt as though she might doze off sitting upright. Jarod noticed immediately. He insisted that Parker go to Ceol Na Mara and get some sleep. Lillias backed up his demand. Parker did not have the energy to argue. Jarod put his arm around her waist again and helped her to the cottage. It felt wonderful having him walk next to her, safe from The Centre and his mother. She could almost believe everything would be all right.
Jarod tucked Parker into bed while she joked about his being so attentive. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. He knew Lillias and Ethan were still in the kitchen, cleaning up and talking. Ethan had moved his things to the Inn so that Jarod and Parker could have privacy. He wanted to go back and talk to Lillias, but he wanted to stay with Parker more. He undressed and climbed into bed. The feeling of her in his arms again was wonderful; hearing Parker mumble in her sleep and feeling her snuggle against him was almost too good. But Jarod could not sleep. The evening's conversation reran through his mind a hundred times. He had listened to what they said, he had understood and knew they told the truth.
But he could not believe.
Jarod lay next to Parker until one a.m. Finally, he could stay still no longer; he got up and redressed. He glanced toward the Inn and found all the windows dark. He went downstairs and paced around the cottage. He wanted to be here but felt trapped.
Jarod walked through the kitchen and out onto the upper porch. The rain had stopped and there were only a few icy flakes of snow on the wind. He went back in, grabbed a coat and went down to the lower deck. Ethan had taken him to the edge of the cliff to see the ocean; now he took the wooden stairs to the beach. Slogging through sodden half-frozen sand was exhausting. Keeping his bearings by storm-darkened moonlight required concentration, and the sound of the breakers drowned out all thought. It was perfect.
By the time Jarod climbed back up the stairway to the cottage his hands, feet, and mind were numb. He ran warm water over his hands until his fingers were thawed enough to unbutton his coat and undo his frozen shoelaces. He thought he might be in trouble if Lillias saw the sand he had track into the kitchen. He smiled at that thought but it brought back all the rest. He sighed, put his wet things near the radiator and cleaned up the floor.
Jarod went into the living room and sat in a large comfortable chair. He closed his eyes. It was three a. m. He had not slept in nearly twenty-four hours and he was exhausted from the walk. He opened his eyes. He picked up a deck of cards from the side table and put them down. He thumbed through a magazine but nothing registered. As he tossed it back onto the table he noticed a photo album that had been under it. He picked it up, not expecting to recognize anyone in the photos. A picture of Ethan fell out when he opened the book.
Jarod took the photo album to the kitchen table for a better look. He no sooner sat than the phone rang. God, it was going to wake Parker. He jumped up and grabbed the receiver halfway through the second ring. "Hello?"
"Hello...do I have the correct number?" said a very familiar voice.
"Sydney?"
"Jarod? You found her? You're together?"
"Well, actually she found me. But we're both here...I guess you know where here is?"
"Yes. I'm calling from my private phone at home."
Jarod glanced at the clock. It would be about ten at night in Blue Cove; Sydney probably just got home. "Do you need me to wake Parker?" He moved the telephone to the table and opened the album.
"No, I can tell you what I've learned. If I'd known you were together the call would have waited." Sydney sounded slightly hurt.
"It's been less than a day, and a lot was happening. I was going to call you tomorrow."
Sydney accepted that as an apology. "I have information on Lachlan Abbott"
"That's interesting. I just got some information on his sister."
Sydney paused, trying to interpret the tone of Jarod's voice. "I'm sorry. I can't remember what I've told you as opposed to what I've told Miss Parker."
"I know Abbott died or was murdered on April 15, 1970 in Inverness. I know he was a photographer." Jarod's hand fell on the photograph that had taken Ethan to Penrith. The gold embossed name on the front, Lachlan Abbott. "I'm relatively sure that he worked for MI6 in some capacity."
"He may also have been working for The Centre."
That drew Jarod's attention. "How?"
"An FBI agent opened a file on Abbott in September of 1969. According to the file he knew facts about kidnappings that resulted in children coming to The Centre. He knew a good bit about your kidnapping. The agent was very suspicious but a higher official called off the investigation; it could have been either MI6 or The Centre."
For a moment Jarod grasped at that straw. Lachlan was the kidnapper; that's how his mother was involved. She was trying to stop him. Jarod realized that Sydney was waiting for him to speak. "Has Broots tried the MI6 files?" He pulled the photo from the album for closer examination. It was in terrible condition.
"Without too much luck. We did find a family address though, a place known as Abbott Hall, no street number, Penrith, Cumbria, England."
Jarod jotted the information down on a notepad Lillias kept with the phone. He turned over the photograph in his other hand. With a lot of imagination he could make out P and the number 69. "Tell Broots I need, Miss Parker needs him to keep looking. What you've given me is very useful."
"I will keep you posted. I would appreciate a call if anything changes."
Jarod heard the concern in Sydney's voice and assumed it was for Parker. "She's fine, Sydney, actually more than fine. She has some good news, about family, but I'll let her tell you herself."
Sydney still could not bring himself to correct Jarod's interpretation. "Very good. Take care."
"You too, and Broots." They disconnected.
Jarod reexamined the album. It was basically family photographs, Christmases and birthdays. Ethan looked happy in some, confused in others. He had been well treated by his foster parents if you did not count their allowing Mr. Raines to distort his gift. The photo taken by Lachlan Abbott was the only one not of family members. Out of place from the rest it was conspicuous. It was also badly faded and slightly water damaged.
Jarod went to his suitcase, in the living room where he had left it. He got out his little bag of tools/toys, including a 30X double loop magnifier, and returned to the photo. Two of the subjects were relatively visible, Catherine Parker and Mr. Raines. With magnification he could make out Edna Raines and his mother. Margaret stood alone, Edna stood with her husband, and Catherine stood beside a man whose face was all but erased.
Jarod reversed the photo. The writing was small and cramped. Moisture had caused the ink to bleed. The names were impossible to read. The year was definitely 1969. The month was illegible except that it had four letters; that agreed with the photo, in which it appeared to be summer. Jarod could make out P-e-n then a smudge and t-h, Penrith. There were two words before that, the first began with A and ended with t; the second had four letters, Abbott Hall.
So, the photograph was taken at the elaborate gate of Abbott Hall. Jarod examined the photo again. By stature and clothes, Jarod guessed the faceless man was Mr. Parker. If he had his computer he could scan the print and enhance it, but his computer was back in Violet Penfield's Inn. But Ethan was here, and where Ethan went his computer went. Jarod put the photo in his pocket. He put on his slightly damp shoes and moved quietly from the cottage to the Inn.
Ethan's laptop was in a corner of the kitchen. Jarod set it up on the table. Apparently Ethan had not packed a scanner, just a compact printer. So much for identifying the mystery man in the photo. Well, it did prove that Lachlan Abbott knew Raines and Catherine Parker. Jarod decided to try hacking into MI6. British Intelligence was pretty good at locking up their information behind code but Jarod was into their old personnel files within two hours. Broots would be chagrinned; Jarod decided to let him crack the code on his own.
The files were relatively straightforward. Lachlan Abbott was a MI6 operative. His career and excellent reputation as a photographer allowed him to travel widely and make interesting friends.
According to the records his sister, Margaret, became friends with Catherine Jamison Parker in college. Margaret worked for The Centre after graduating medical school. That was a surprise to Jarod. He never thought of his mother as anything other than a housewife and dedicated mother. She was a physician at The Centre, like Sydney, like Tommy Thompson, like Raines.
Jarod felt sick in the stomach. He was tempted to shut down the computer and try to pretend he never saw it. But he couldn't turn away; he just had to look. Lachlan had encouraged Margaret's choice of employer. MI6 found Centre operations very interesting but not dangerous to its purposes. They also found them hard to infiltrate. Lachlan hoped to use his sister to gather information at The Centre. Margaret apparently quit to have a family. She was allowed to quit the Centre? That was the extent of information on Margaret.
Lachlan had a private project, which was approved by his superiors. When not on assignment he investigated the kidnappings of his two nephews and similar kidnappings. He started searching intermittently when Jarod was taken; it became a mission after Kyle disappeared. He recorded that he did not believe individuals took both his nephews from his beloved sister. He moved Margaret and her infant daughter to Abbott Hall while he and Major Charles conducted independent searches. Margaret kept in touch with Catherine Parker and introduced Lachlan to the Raines and the Parkers in 1969.
There was little additional information on Lachlan Abbott, other than that his death was highly suspicious and the case was still designated active in MI6 files even though listed as accidental by the police. He died less than a year after meeting Catherine Parker and two days after her disappearance from The Centre.
Jarod shut down Ethan's computer with shaking hands. He felt like his stomach had turned inside out. He had to talk to his mother. He had to see her ask her hear her say it was a mistake. Or hear her admit that she had sold him, her own son, to The Centre. And he had to do it alone. Now he knew where to look, Abbott Hall.
Jarod returned the laptop to its case. He slipped back into Ceol Na Mara long enough to get his coat and gun. He intended to get Ethan's keys from the Inn kitchen and get away before Ethan or Parker woke. He was so focused that he did not see Lillias sitting at the table when he walked back in. She did not move, but her voice stopped him cold, "Where are ye goin', lad?"
He grabbed the keys from the counter and turned toward her direction, but did not meet her gaze. "I need to find her. Lillias, I need to confront her. Ask her. See proof. I can't believe it till I do."
"Aye, lad, I can understand that. But ye be putting yerself in grave danger."
He raised his eyes to hers, "I have to do this. She loved me; I know it. She loved me. I remember it, I knew it, I saw it." He clutched the keys so tightly his knuckles went white.
Lillias saw how much he was torn and it broke her heart. Maggie Abbott did not deserve such loyalty. "There be a woman sleeping in the cottage that loves ye now."
"You know what Parker's been through. She's exhausted. She needs to rest for longer than one night."
"Ye could wait."
Jarod smiled ingenuously, "I'm not that good at waiting."
Lillias stood and walked to him. "Ye don't want to wait because you're afraid of what might happen when they meet." She put a hand on his arm.
Jarod looked guilty. "Yes."
"I'll nae argue with ye, lad, but ye should beware. We told ye true about Maggie Abbott."
"She's my mother. She gave me life."
"And that may be the one true thing she's done fer ye." Lillias put her arms around Jarod and embraced him. She could not think of much else to do for him.
Jarod returned her hug; it almost stopped his leaving. "Take care of Parker. Keep her here. I promise I'll be back tomorrow." Jarod turned and left.
Lillias hardly needed the chill from her gift to know that was not likely.
