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The King and the Pawn
Reactions
By Phenyx
The remaining pages in the leather bound book were blank.
Miss Parker sat in the window seat opposite Jarod, with her back against one wall. The two of them had taken turns during the night reading passages from the journal aloud. They had managed to work their way through the entire book and dawn was still nearly an hour away.
The leather was soft and warm under Miss Parker's fingers as she studied the cover intently. For several long moments, she avoided looking at her companion. The discovery of Jarod's true origin was as chilling as it was incredible. She was afraid the pretender would not take this information well.
But Jarod had been there for her when Parker had discovered her connection to the gruesome ancestors on Carthis. It had been Jarod's quiet strength, his curious presence on the plane that had kept her from bursting into tears when she learned of her true paternity. Jarod's compassion had been her salvation that day. He deserved the same support from her.
Slowing raising her eyes, Miss Parker saw the look of dismay and revulsion on Jarod's face. Reacting instinctively, she reached across the space separating them and placed a reassuring hand on Jarod's knee. He was trembling.
"Jarod?" she asked carefully. Jarod's face was as white as a sheet and his entire body was shaking.
The pretender made a whimpering, strangled sound then he scrambled off the cushioned seat and ran from the room. Miss Parker dashed after him.
She heard a door at the end of the hall slam shut. A moment later, Parker could hear Jarod in the bathroom, retching. For a full minute, Parker stood on her side of the door while Jarod was violently ill.
When Miss Parker finally turned the knob and stepped into the room, she found Jarod gasping for air. He was sitting on the edge of the tub, bent over the commode, clinging to the porcelain as though it was a life preserver.
Fighting for air like a fish out of water, Jarod's eyes were wide with fear.
Without hesitation, Parker rushed to the sink and ran cold water over a washcloth. "Calm down, Jarod." She said.
She took the cloth and placed it across the back of Jarod's neck as he bowed before her, wheezing helplessly.
"Hush." She whispered. "Easy now, Jarod. You're having a panic attack." Stroking her hand soothingly down Jarod's back, Miss Parker continued to murmur reassurances to the distraught man as he gasped.
Holding the cool cloth to Jarod's neck with one hand and squeezing his shoulders with the other, Miss Parker said, "You will be all right, Jarod. Concentrate on breathing. Calm down. You'll be fine. Just calm down."
As the minutes passed, Jarod's wheezing eased. Panting breaths finally turned into heavy sighs.
"Are you okay?" Parker asked softly.
Fear and shock morphed suddenly into anger and Jarod lashed out at the only person available.
"No!" He yelled furiously as he sprang to his feet. "I am NOT okay. Do you have any idea what has just happened? Do you know what my life has just become?"
Calmly blinking up at him from her seat on edge of the tub, Miss Parker said sadly, "Yes, Jarod. I think I have a pretty clear understanding of how you feel right now."
Her words, spoken so softly, froze Jarod in his tracks. For a moment he simply stared at her. Then without another sound, Jarod turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. When the back door slammed shut, Parker sighed and wiped away the single tear that trailed down her cheek.
After tidying up the lavatory, Miss Parker wandered through the house. Back in her mother's studio, she picked up the journal and the heavy envelop, placing both items back in the hidden compartment where they'd been found. She then turned out the light and left the room, locking the door behind her.
As the house began to brighten with early morning sunshine, Miss Parker went into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. She wouldn't bother trying to get any sleep now. There was no point. Moving to the sink with the empty coffee pot, Miss Parker glanced out the window as she began to run water from the tap. She nearly dropped the glass carafe in surprise.
Jarod was sitting on the steps of her back porch. Quickly finishing her task and setting the machine to brew, Parker carefully opened the back door and gingerly sat down beside him. In silence, they watched the sun come up. The birds were singing merrily around them, but all else was quiet.
Finally, Jarod said softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."
Miss Parker shrugged. "You needed to yell at somebody. I didn't mind."
There was another long silence between them.
"I thought you'd gone." Parker admitted.
Jarod watched a bird cross the sky. "Do you want me to?" he asked quietly.
"Nah." Parker said, watching him intently. Jarod hadn't looked at her once since she sat on the stoop. He was frowning and his shoulders were hunched over. He seemed defeated. "To be honest," she whispered. "I'll feel better if you hang around a while. You're worrying me."
"What did you expect me to do?" Jarod grumbled. "This isn't exactly the family I was hoping for you know."
"Listen," Parker said kindly, placing a gentle hand on Jarod's arm. "Your grandfather sounded like a good man. He loved his family very much." Leaning over slightly, Parker tried to look into Jarod's face but he shied away from her. She continued, "He had some difficult times when he was a boy, but he survived. His experiences left their mark on his life but he still managed to become a kind and loving man." Parker smiled wryly. "He reminds me a great deal of his grandson."
"I don't want to be his grandson." Jarod sighed. "I don't want what he has left me."
"He loved you very much, Jarod." Parker said. "He left you a great gift."
"The Centre is no gift." Jarod growled. "It's nothing but a warped curse."
"He left you everything he had." Parker replied simply.
Jarod swallowed. "I don't want it."
Parker shrugged her shoulders, "Then walk away." She said in an offhanded voice. "Leave it for Raines and Lyle."
Jarod did look at her then. His eyes were red and swimming with unshed tears. "How could I live with myself, Parker?" he cried softly. "How many innocent people would die at their hands, because I was too self centered to step in and stop them?"
A wicked grin curved the corners of Parker's mouth. She nudged Jarod with one elbow. "Just think of how much fun it's going to be when you tell Lyle." She snickered, trying to brighten Jarod's mood. "He'll be really steamed when he finds out that you are in charge. You're top dog. You're the king and you're holding all the cards."
Jarod sighed heavily. "I've been a pawn to The Centre all my life, Parker." He said. "The king is just a different piece on the board. I'm still caught in the same sick game."
Parker didn't know what to say. She understood Jarod's distress. She of all people knew exactly how he felt. There had been many times when Parker had wallowed in her own self-pity and depression at her entrapment in The Centre's snare.
With another sigh, Jarod reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his sunglasses. He opened them, but rather than put them on, he twirled them by one earpiece, studying the shades intently.
"Have you ever considered my collection of sunglasses?" He asked. "I've always got at least two pair, wherever I go."
Parker shrugged. "I never gave it any thought."
Jarod closed his eyes and tilted his face to the sky with reverence. "I love the sun." He said. "I love its warmth on my face. The way it makes colors seem so vibrant."
Parker tilted her head at him with a frown. She wasn't sure what he was trying to say. Jarod shook his head, leaving his statement hanging in the air for her to finish. "But?" she urged.
"It is so bright." He whispered sadly.
Parker flinched as if she'd been struck. Why hadn't it occurred to her before?
"It hurts your eyes." She stated sadly.
"On a nice day like this, I'll get a headache in less than an hour without these." He said, gesturing with the shades in his hand. Jarod shook his head sadly. "I lived in the dark for too many years."
"Jarod." Parker cried softly.
His lower lip began to tremble as Jarod looked at her. "I don't want to go back to living in the dark."
Parker pulled him toward her gently as Jarod choked back a sob. Placing his head in her lap, Jarod curled into a fetal position. He desperately wanted to undo the last twenty-four hours. He wished he could unlearn what he had just learned.
With an odd sense of revelation, Jarod finally understood the old saying, "Ignorance is bliss." Some information just isn't worth knowing.
As Parker began to stroke the back of his head, Jarod sighed. Her arms around him felt so safe. He wondered idly what he would have done if Parker had not been with him when he'd learned about his grandfather. She alone, in all the world, could understand his anguish.
Her fingers, weaving through Jarod's hair, had a magical, calming influence on him. Parker was so much stronger than he was. Some of her strength, her will, seemed to flow through her fingertips and into Jarod as she continued the reassuring caress.
Jarod sighed again. Pressing close to Parker's side, he reveled in the feel of her. The softness of her touch, the gentle tone of her voice were a soothing balm on his soul. He inhaled the flowery scent of her like a connoisseur sniffing fine wine.
A moment later Jarod snapped into a sitting position with a snarl. Propelling himself off the stoop, the pretender stood in the yard and growled angrily toward the sun. "Damn!" He yelled. A long string of oaths and curses followed. Swearing like a sailor at work on the docks, Jarod ground out his frustration between clenched teeth.
"What?" Parker cried. "Jarod, what's wrong?"
"Even this," he grimaced. "Even this they've taken from me. Christ." Jarod said dejectedly. Crouching on his haunches in the grass, Jarod buried his head in his hands in defeat.
Standing carefully and moving toward him, Parker knelt beside Jarod. "What is it?"
Jarod flinched away from her. Looking up at Parker with a look of total desolation, Jarod said, "You are my cousin."
Parker's brow wrinkled in confusion.
"They've stolen my fantasies, Parker." Jarod said sadly. "I'm not allowed to have tawdry thoughts about you anymore."
For a moment Parker was stunned speechless. Then she giggled.
"It's not funny damn it." Jarod grumped.
"Actually," Parker responded lightly. "This part is very amusing."
Jarod glared at her as Parker grinned mischievously.
"It isn't funny." Jarod repeated, less vehemently.
Parker chuckled. "Oh Jarod," she said, kissing his stubbly cheek. "If it makes you feel any better, we aren't really cousins."
"We shared a great grandfather." He said softly.
"That makes us second cousins." Parker said. "Not even that. Our grandfathers were only half-brothers. So that makes us, what? Half-second cousins? Or would it be second half-cousins?" Tilting her head at Jarod with a smirk she added, "It's a stretch to even say we're related. A few imaginative thoughts aren't going to constitute incest."
"I have a really good imagination, Parker." Jarod admitted quietly.
Parker snickered. "Not as good as the real thing." She purred.
Jarod glanced up at her with a startled look. "If I weren't your cousin, would I have chance at testing that theory?"
She laughed. "Only in your dreams, Hotshot."
Parker's lighthearted teasing began to have the desired effect. Jarod almost smiled. But his brown eyes still held a deep sadness; a hopelessness that Parker knew could not be chased away with humor.
"Come on." Parker said, tugging gently on the pretender's arm. "I need a cup of coffee. And I think you could use one too."
Some time later, they sat quietly together at the table in Parker's kitchen. She had managed to coax Jarod into eating a little toast but Parker could tell that he hardly tasted it. Jarod was starting his second cup of coffee. The fact that the sugar addicted pretender was drinking the brew black, pointedly defined his current disinterest in his taste buds.
With a sigh, Parker reached over and tipped a spoonful of sugar into Jarod's cup. She stirred the sweetener into the coffee for him. Jarod didn't seem to notice. He just frowned thoughtfully at an imaginary spot on the tabletop.
When they had finished the pot, Parker wordlessly took the cups to the sink and washed them. As she dried her hands on a nearby towel Jarod spoke. "You're going to be late for work." He murmured.
"I'll call Sydney," Parker shrugged. "And tell him that I won't be in today. I'll let him assume that I'm hung over. No one will question it."
Jarod nodded slowly, as if he wasn't really listening.
Parker sat back down at the table. Folding her hands primly in front of her she asked, "What will you do now?"
Jarod sighed forlornly. "The envelop with the will in it has an attorney's name and address imprinted on the flap."
Parker nodded. She had noticed the silver lettering on the stationary as well. "I doubt that he's still practicing law after so many years, Jarod."
"No," Jarod said. "But the journal entry sounded as though the attorney's office was nearby. He, my grandfather," Jarod stumbled over those two words slightly. "Talked about going to the lawyer's office like it was no big deal."
He glanced at Parker cautiously.
"What if that office wasn't far from where I was born?" Jarod asked. "I thought I might see if I can find a birth certificate or something."
"So," Parker sighed. "You're off to St. Louis then?"
Jarod shook his head. "I can probably find everything I need online. Those kinds of documents are all on public record." He frowned. "But don't fret Parker, I'll be out of your hair soon. I've hung out here too long as it is."
Parker stood as Jarod rose and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. "Jarod," she said gently. "Stay here."
"It's dangerous, Parker." He said. "I'm not in charge yet."
"You're tired." Parker observed.
Jarod laughed a cold, mirthless laugh. "Understatement of the century. I feel like I could sleep for a month."
"Until you get through all the legal ramifications of the will," she said. "The situation will be very dangerous for us both."
The pretender stared blankly at her, waiting.
"Stay here." Parker repeated. "I'll watch your back. You can watch mine. I have a really nice guest room. It's yours for as long as you want it."
"Why?" Jarod asked angrily. "You would be safer if I just disappeared until everything was set."
Inhaling deeply, Parker took a leap of faith and told Jarod the simple truth. "I'm concerned about you." She admitted.
"I can take care of myself, Parker." Jarod groused.
Tilting her head at him curiously Parker asked, "Can you?" Gesturing helplessly she added, "You aren't behaving like yourself, Jarod. I'm worried."
"Are you afraid I'll jump off a bridge or something?" he snarled.
"The thought had occurred to me." Parker said honestly.
Jarod slumped down onto a chair with a sigh. "While I was sitting alone on the steps this morning, I did toy with the idea of stealing your gun." He admitted in a whisper. "But I couldn't do that to you." He said, looking up at her in utter desolation. "I couldn't let you find another dead man on your back porch."
Her eyes were swimming with tears as Parker stepped closer and hugged Jarod close. He placed his forehead against her abdomen and wrapped his arms around her thighs.
"Stay." Parker whispered to the top of Jarod's head. She knew, that as long as he was in her house, Jarod wouldn't try to hurt himself.
"I'll never escape." He moaned into her stomach. "The Centre will have me for as long as I live."
"We are both trapped by our heritage, Jarod." Parker said softly. "Stay. You don't have to do this alone."
Jarod sighed.
"Stay." She whispered again.
He stayed.
The King and the Pawn
Reactions
By Phenyx
The remaining pages in the leather bound book were blank.
Miss Parker sat in the window seat opposite Jarod, with her back against one wall. The two of them had taken turns during the night reading passages from the journal aloud. They had managed to work their way through the entire book and dawn was still nearly an hour away.
The leather was soft and warm under Miss Parker's fingers as she studied the cover intently. For several long moments, she avoided looking at her companion. The discovery of Jarod's true origin was as chilling as it was incredible. She was afraid the pretender would not take this information well.
But Jarod had been there for her when Parker had discovered her connection to the gruesome ancestors on Carthis. It had been Jarod's quiet strength, his curious presence on the plane that had kept her from bursting into tears when she learned of her true paternity. Jarod's compassion had been her salvation that day. He deserved the same support from her.
Slowing raising her eyes, Miss Parker saw the look of dismay and revulsion on Jarod's face. Reacting instinctively, she reached across the space separating them and placed a reassuring hand on Jarod's knee. He was trembling.
"Jarod?" she asked carefully. Jarod's face was as white as a sheet and his entire body was shaking.
The pretender made a whimpering, strangled sound then he scrambled off the cushioned seat and ran from the room. Miss Parker dashed after him.
She heard a door at the end of the hall slam shut. A moment later, Parker could hear Jarod in the bathroom, retching. For a full minute, Parker stood on her side of the door while Jarod was violently ill.
When Miss Parker finally turned the knob and stepped into the room, she found Jarod gasping for air. He was sitting on the edge of the tub, bent over the commode, clinging to the porcelain as though it was a life preserver.
Fighting for air like a fish out of water, Jarod's eyes were wide with fear.
Without hesitation, Parker rushed to the sink and ran cold water over a washcloth. "Calm down, Jarod." She said.
She took the cloth and placed it across the back of Jarod's neck as he bowed before her, wheezing helplessly.
"Hush." She whispered. "Easy now, Jarod. You're having a panic attack." Stroking her hand soothingly down Jarod's back, Miss Parker continued to murmur reassurances to the distraught man as he gasped.
Holding the cool cloth to Jarod's neck with one hand and squeezing his shoulders with the other, Miss Parker said, "You will be all right, Jarod. Concentrate on breathing. Calm down. You'll be fine. Just calm down."
As the minutes passed, Jarod's wheezing eased. Panting breaths finally turned into heavy sighs.
"Are you okay?" Parker asked softly.
Fear and shock morphed suddenly into anger and Jarod lashed out at the only person available.
"No!" He yelled furiously as he sprang to his feet. "I am NOT okay. Do you have any idea what has just happened? Do you know what my life has just become?"
Calmly blinking up at him from her seat on edge of the tub, Miss Parker said sadly, "Yes, Jarod. I think I have a pretty clear understanding of how you feel right now."
Her words, spoken so softly, froze Jarod in his tracks. For a moment he simply stared at her. Then without another sound, Jarod turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. When the back door slammed shut, Parker sighed and wiped away the single tear that trailed down her cheek.
After tidying up the lavatory, Miss Parker wandered through the house. Back in her mother's studio, she picked up the journal and the heavy envelop, placing both items back in the hidden compartment where they'd been found. She then turned out the light and left the room, locking the door behind her.
As the house began to brighten with early morning sunshine, Miss Parker went into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. She wouldn't bother trying to get any sleep now. There was no point. Moving to the sink with the empty coffee pot, Miss Parker glanced out the window as she began to run water from the tap. She nearly dropped the glass carafe in surprise.
Jarod was sitting on the steps of her back porch. Quickly finishing her task and setting the machine to brew, Parker carefully opened the back door and gingerly sat down beside him. In silence, they watched the sun come up. The birds were singing merrily around them, but all else was quiet.
Finally, Jarod said softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."
Miss Parker shrugged. "You needed to yell at somebody. I didn't mind."
There was another long silence between them.
"I thought you'd gone." Parker admitted.
Jarod watched a bird cross the sky. "Do you want me to?" he asked quietly.
"Nah." Parker said, watching him intently. Jarod hadn't looked at her once since she sat on the stoop. He was frowning and his shoulders were hunched over. He seemed defeated. "To be honest," she whispered. "I'll feel better if you hang around a while. You're worrying me."
"What did you expect me to do?" Jarod grumbled. "This isn't exactly the family I was hoping for you know."
"Listen," Parker said kindly, placing a gentle hand on Jarod's arm. "Your grandfather sounded like a good man. He loved his family very much." Leaning over slightly, Parker tried to look into Jarod's face but he shied away from her. She continued, "He had some difficult times when he was a boy, but he survived. His experiences left their mark on his life but he still managed to become a kind and loving man." Parker smiled wryly. "He reminds me a great deal of his grandson."
"I don't want to be his grandson." Jarod sighed. "I don't want what he has left me."
"He loved you very much, Jarod." Parker said. "He left you a great gift."
"The Centre is no gift." Jarod growled. "It's nothing but a warped curse."
"He left you everything he had." Parker replied simply.
Jarod swallowed. "I don't want it."
Parker shrugged her shoulders, "Then walk away." She said in an offhanded voice. "Leave it for Raines and Lyle."
Jarod did look at her then. His eyes were red and swimming with unshed tears. "How could I live with myself, Parker?" he cried softly. "How many innocent people would die at their hands, because I was too self centered to step in and stop them?"
A wicked grin curved the corners of Parker's mouth. She nudged Jarod with one elbow. "Just think of how much fun it's going to be when you tell Lyle." She snickered, trying to brighten Jarod's mood. "He'll be really steamed when he finds out that you are in charge. You're top dog. You're the king and you're holding all the cards."
Jarod sighed heavily. "I've been a pawn to The Centre all my life, Parker." He said. "The king is just a different piece on the board. I'm still caught in the same sick game."
Parker didn't know what to say. She understood Jarod's distress. She of all people knew exactly how he felt. There had been many times when Parker had wallowed in her own self-pity and depression at her entrapment in The Centre's snare.
With another sigh, Jarod reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his sunglasses. He opened them, but rather than put them on, he twirled them by one earpiece, studying the shades intently.
"Have you ever considered my collection of sunglasses?" He asked. "I've always got at least two pair, wherever I go."
Parker shrugged. "I never gave it any thought."
Jarod closed his eyes and tilted his face to the sky with reverence. "I love the sun." He said. "I love its warmth on my face. The way it makes colors seem so vibrant."
Parker tilted her head at him with a frown. She wasn't sure what he was trying to say. Jarod shook his head, leaving his statement hanging in the air for her to finish. "But?" she urged.
"It is so bright." He whispered sadly.
Parker flinched as if she'd been struck. Why hadn't it occurred to her before?
"It hurts your eyes." She stated sadly.
"On a nice day like this, I'll get a headache in less than an hour without these." He said, gesturing with the shades in his hand. Jarod shook his head sadly. "I lived in the dark for too many years."
"Jarod." Parker cried softly.
His lower lip began to tremble as Jarod looked at her. "I don't want to go back to living in the dark."
Parker pulled him toward her gently as Jarod choked back a sob. Placing his head in her lap, Jarod curled into a fetal position. He desperately wanted to undo the last twenty-four hours. He wished he could unlearn what he had just learned.
With an odd sense of revelation, Jarod finally understood the old saying, "Ignorance is bliss." Some information just isn't worth knowing.
As Parker began to stroke the back of his head, Jarod sighed. Her arms around him felt so safe. He wondered idly what he would have done if Parker had not been with him when he'd learned about his grandfather. She alone, in all the world, could understand his anguish.
Her fingers, weaving through Jarod's hair, had a magical, calming influence on him. Parker was so much stronger than he was. Some of her strength, her will, seemed to flow through her fingertips and into Jarod as she continued the reassuring caress.
Jarod sighed again. Pressing close to Parker's side, he reveled in the feel of her. The softness of her touch, the gentle tone of her voice were a soothing balm on his soul. He inhaled the flowery scent of her like a connoisseur sniffing fine wine.
A moment later Jarod snapped into a sitting position with a snarl. Propelling himself off the stoop, the pretender stood in the yard and growled angrily toward the sun. "Damn!" He yelled. A long string of oaths and curses followed. Swearing like a sailor at work on the docks, Jarod ground out his frustration between clenched teeth.
"What?" Parker cried. "Jarod, what's wrong?"
"Even this," he grimaced. "Even this they've taken from me. Christ." Jarod said dejectedly. Crouching on his haunches in the grass, Jarod buried his head in his hands in defeat.
Standing carefully and moving toward him, Parker knelt beside Jarod. "What is it?"
Jarod flinched away from her. Looking up at Parker with a look of total desolation, Jarod said, "You are my cousin."
Parker's brow wrinkled in confusion.
"They've stolen my fantasies, Parker." Jarod said sadly. "I'm not allowed to have tawdry thoughts about you anymore."
For a moment Parker was stunned speechless. Then she giggled.
"It's not funny damn it." Jarod grumped.
"Actually," Parker responded lightly. "This part is very amusing."
Jarod glared at her as Parker grinned mischievously.
"It isn't funny." Jarod repeated, less vehemently.
Parker chuckled. "Oh Jarod," she said, kissing his stubbly cheek. "If it makes you feel any better, we aren't really cousins."
"We shared a great grandfather." He said softly.
"That makes us second cousins." Parker said. "Not even that. Our grandfathers were only half-brothers. So that makes us, what? Half-second cousins? Or would it be second half-cousins?" Tilting her head at Jarod with a smirk she added, "It's a stretch to even say we're related. A few imaginative thoughts aren't going to constitute incest."
"I have a really good imagination, Parker." Jarod admitted quietly.
Parker snickered. "Not as good as the real thing." She purred.
Jarod glanced up at her with a startled look. "If I weren't your cousin, would I have chance at testing that theory?"
She laughed. "Only in your dreams, Hotshot."
Parker's lighthearted teasing began to have the desired effect. Jarod almost smiled. But his brown eyes still held a deep sadness; a hopelessness that Parker knew could not be chased away with humor.
"Come on." Parker said, tugging gently on the pretender's arm. "I need a cup of coffee. And I think you could use one too."
Some time later, they sat quietly together at the table in Parker's kitchen. She had managed to coax Jarod into eating a little toast but Parker could tell that he hardly tasted it. Jarod was starting his second cup of coffee. The fact that the sugar addicted pretender was drinking the brew black, pointedly defined his current disinterest in his taste buds.
With a sigh, Parker reached over and tipped a spoonful of sugar into Jarod's cup. She stirred the sweetener into the coffee for him. Jarod didn't seem to notice. He just frowned thoughtfully at an imaginary spot on the tabletop.
When they had finished the pot, Parker wordlessly took the cups to the sink and washed them. As she dried her hands on a nearby towel Jarod spoke. "You're going to be late for work." He murmured.
"I'll call Sydney," Parker shrugged. "And tell him that I won't be in today. I'll let him assume that I'm hung over. No one will question it."
Jarod nodded slowly, as if he wasn't really listening.
Parker sat back down at the table. Folding her hands primly in front of her she asked, "What will you do now?"
Jarod sighed forlornly. "The envelop with the will in it has an attorney's name and address imprinted on the flap."
Parker nodded. She had noticed the silver lettering on the stationary as well. "I doubt that he's still practicing law after so many years, Jarod."
"No," Jarod said. "But the journal entry sounded as though the attorney's office was nearby. He, my grandfather," Jarod stumbled over those two words slightly. "Talked about going to the lawyer's office like it was no big deal."
He glanced at Parker cautiously.
"What if that office wasn't far from where I was born?" Jarod asked. "I thought I might see if I can find a birth certificate or something."
"So," Parker sighed. "You're off to St. Louis then?"
Jarod shook his head. "I can probably find everything I need online. Those kinds of documents are all on public record." He frowned. "But don't fret Parker, I'll be out of your hair soon. I've hung out here too long as it is."
Parker stood as Jarod rose and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. "Jarod," she said gently. "Stay here."
"It's dangerous, Parker." He said. "I'm not in charge yet."
"You're tired." Parker observed.
Jarod laughed a cold, mirthless laugh. "Understatement of the century. I feel like I could sleep for a month."
"Until you get through all the legal ramifications of the will," she said. "The situation will be very dangerous for us both."
The pretender stared blankly at her, waiting.
"Stay here." Parker repeated. "I'll watch your back. You can watch mine. I have a really nice guest room. It's yours for as long as you want it."
"Why?" Jarod asked angrily. "You would be safer if I just disappeared until everything was set."
Inhaling deeply, Parker took a leap of faith and told Jarod the simple truth. "I'm concerned about you." She admitted.
"I can take care of myself, Parker." Jarod groused.
Tilting her head at him curiously Parker asked, "Can you?" Gesturing helplessly she added, "You aren't behaving like yourself, Jarod. I'm worried."
"Are you afraid I'll jump off a bridge or something?" he snarled.
"The thought had occurred to me." Parker said honestly.
Jarod slumped down onto a chair with a sigh. "While I was sitting alone on the steps this morning, I did toy with the idea of stealing your gun." He admitted in a whisper. "But I couldn't do that to you." He said, looking up at her in utter desolation. "I couldn't let you find another dead man on your back porch."
Her eyes were swimming with tears as Parker stepped closer and hugged Jarod close. He placed his forehead against her abdomen and wrapped his arms around her thighs.
"Stay." Parker whispered to the top of Jarod's head. She knew, that as long as he was in her house, Jarod wouldn't try to hurt himself.
"I'll never escape." He moaned into her stomach. "The Centre will have me for as long as I live."
"We are both trapped by our heritage, Jarod." Parker said softly. "Stay. You don't have to do this alone."
Jarod sighed.
"Stay." She whispered again.
He stayed.
