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Disclaimer: The Pretender and its related characters don’t belong to me. There is no money involved here and no copyright infringement is intended. Actually it is intended but I’m not making any profit so there’s really no point in suing me over it.

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Veil of Contentment

- By Phenyx -02/11/04

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“It’s been a long time since I’ve traveled this way,” Jarod murmured as he looked around appreciatively, caressing the luxuriously covered seat. “My father and I have a Cessna 303 that gets plenty of air time, but the only leather you’ll find on board is my coat.”

Broots nodded, glancing at the spacious interior of the private jet. “Miss Parker sold two of the fleet but she’s kept the others,” he said with a shrug. “The jets are used often enough, but not like they were before.”

Jarod grinned. “Not chasing stray pretenders across the country anymore,” he chuckled.

The two men shared a wry smile before falling back into the uncomfortable silence that had prevailed since takeoff. Jarod stared at Broots with an intensity that made the technician squirm awkwardly.

“Why don’t you tell me what has happened?” Jarod asked suddenly.

Broots flinched. “I thought Miss Parker should be the one to do that,” he said.

Jarod tilted his head curiously before saying, “I’m sure time is of the essence, Mr. Broots. You should take this opportunity to bring me up to speed rather than staring at me like an idiot.”

Blinking in surprise at the sharpness in the pretender’s tone, Broots shrugged. “Teddy has been kidnapped,” he said simply.

“Teddy?” Jarod asked with raised brows. “Parker’s baby brother?”

Broots nodded. “She gained custody of the boy when Raines was sent to prison.”

“I had heard,” Jarod said.

“After Raines’ death, Miss Parker adopted the little guy,” Broots went on. “She’s legally been his mother for over a year now.”

“Good for her,” Jarod smiled wryly.

“He’s been taken,” Broots stated bluntly. “He was on a field trip to the art museum in Dover. Someone grabbed him from beside his classmates and ran off.”

Jarod chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. “The boy is six or seven years old isn’t he?”

“He’ll be seven next month,” Broots agreed.

“First grader?” Jarod asked.

“Yes.”

“Public school or private?” the pretender fired his questions rapidly.

Broots answered. “Teddy goes to the same private school Miss Parker attended when she was that age.”

“So he was last seen wearing the school uniform,” Jarod said.

Broots nodded. “Our first thought was that Lyle had arranged the attack from his jail cell,” he admitted.

“It would be simple enough for him to do,” Jarod agreed. “What made you change your minds about Lyle being responsible?”

“We found this at the scene,” Broots replied, holding out a single sheet of paper that he had pulled from his pocket.

Jarod glanced quickly at the page. “Is this the original?” he asked.

“No,” Broots answered. “The authorities have the original. I was able to make this copy.”

Jarod read the ransom note carefully. “$100,000 - Middlefield Park - noon on Friday. Bring the cash to the marker at the start of the hiking trail and wait for further instructions.”

“Not exactly Lyle’s style,” Broots said pointedly.

Jarod nodded. “Knowing Parker’s financial situation, Lyle would have asked for a lot more money,” the pretender added. Looking at his watch, Jarod murmured, “Noon, Friday. That gives us just over twenty-four hours. Could any of the other students describe the suspect?”

Broots shrugged. “White male wearing dark glasses, denim jacket and a plain blue baseball cap.”

“Did the security system at the art museum catch the abduction on tape?” Jarod suggested.

“No,” Broots replied. “And there’s no one matching the description seen on any of the video prior to the attack. We’ve got only a few images of his back as the guy ran out the door, nothing useful.”

“I’ll want to see it anyway,” the pretender frowned thoughtfully.

Broots nodded. “One more thing, Jarod,” the technician said softly. “The feds aren’t pleased that Miss Parker has asked for you on this. They don’t like private investigators treading on their turf.”

Jarod shrugged. “They never do,” he admitted.

“Miss Parker wants you to make the exchange,” Broots said slowly.

The pretender nodded seriously.

Broots smiled sadly at his former quarry. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t come,” he said guiltily.

Jarod cocked one eyebrow at the balding man facing him. “I know better than to disobey a summons,” he replied, only half-joking.

“She’s not as bad as she used to be,” Broots said defensively.

“Speak for yourself, Mr. Broots,” Jarod chortled. “I’m sure I am still number one on the list of people she’d like to shoot.”

“She only threatens to shoot the people she really likes,” Broots said with a smirk.

“And the people she really hates,” Jarod added with a smile. “I’ve just always had trouble figuring out which of those categories I fall into.”

--

Broots was driving three hours later when the car rounded a bend and Parker’s house came into view. The structure itself had not changed much in the years since Jarod had last seen it. The shutters had been painted the same color and Parker obvious still employed the same old gardener. Other than the line of vehicles parked in the driveway, the place seemed to be exactly as it had been four years ago.

Broots had to identify himself to a police officer before they were allowed to pass the string of reporters and gawking onlookers. Jarod ignored them all. He’d seen this type of crowd far too often in his experience with missing children. They drove passed a police cruiser and an unmarked van. Broots edged his car beside a dark sedan that Jarod assumed belonged to the federal agents that were undoubtedly present.

Before stepping out of the vehicle, Jarod pulled dark glasses from his pocket and put them on. Flipping up the collar on his jacket, he took a deep fortifying breath and practically threw himself from the car. The media vultures immediately began squawking at him across the yard.

“Sir, have you heard from the kidnappers?’

“Sir, what is your connection to the boy?”

“Are you the child’s father?”

“Is the boy still alive?”

When Broots seemed to hesitate, Jarod grabbed the tech by the arm and dragged him up the steps and onto the porch. The front door opened as the two men approached. Ducking into the safety of the house, they left the chaos of questions behind.

Glancing around the room, Jarod quickly assessed the situation. A uniformed police officer stood at the door and nodded at the two new arrivals. Three men in suits were busily fidgeting with the telephone, connecting a device that would trace incoming calls. A fourth man stood to one side, barking orders into a cell phone. Sitting ramrod straight on the arm of the couch, glaring icily at everyone around her, was a very stressed looking Miss Parker.

The moment her eyes met Jarod’s, he could see the fear hiding in those blue depths. Jarod wasn’t sure which of them crossed the room faster but they met at the halfway point. Without thought, Jarod threw his arms around her and Parker stepped into his reassuring embrace without hesitation.

“Thank god you’ve come,” Parker hissed, burying her face against Jarod’s shoulder.

“Did you doubt that I would?” he murmured against her ear.

“Not for one moment,” she replied, squeezing him tightly.

They stood in each other’s arms for a long moment. When Parker looked up at Jarod, he could see moisture swimming in her eyes. “Bring my boy home to me, Jarod,” she whispered.

Jarod could only nod in response. The confidence he saw in Parker’s face was frightening in its intensity. It seemed as though she believed Jarod could magically produce the child from thin air. Jarod was a good P.I., perhaps the best in his field of expertise. But if Jarod had learned anything in the last few years, it was that even the best sometimes loses.

“We all know that Jarod will do everything he can to bring Teddy home safely,” a soothing voice chided.

“Sydney!” Jarod held one hand out to the aging psychiatrist while still holding Parker against his chest with the other.

“Hello, Jarod,” the older man said as he shook Jarod’s hand warmly.

The brief round of greeting was cut short when one of the FBI agents interrupted. “Who is this?” the man with the cell phone asked.

Parker stepped back and glared haughtily at the man. “This is Jarod Lucht,” she said coldly. “Jarod, this is Agent Harrison. He’s in charge of the investigation.”

“I’ve heard of you Lucht,” Agent Harrison said in a clipped tone.

“Good,” Jarod said with a nod. “That will make this easier.”

Before Agent Harrison could respond, one of the other men approached. “We’re all set, Sir,” he said.

Harrison turned to Parker and explained, “If the kidnappers call, we need you to keep them talking as long as possible. It will take at least forty- five seconds to get a solid trace on them.”

“They won’t call,” Jarod stated bluntly, earning a frigid glare from the agent.

“How do you know that?” Harrison snarled.

“The don’t have the number. The kidnappers didn’t set out to take Teddy,” Jarod explained. Directing his statements to Parker more than anyone else, he went on. “It wasn’t your son they were after. They took a child from a posh private school, not one specific boy. The ransom note was written before the abduction and left at the site. There is no reference to any specific gender of the victim. The kidnapper knew the layout of the museum and how to avoid detection on the surveillance cameras. He studied the location until he could map it out in his sleep.” Jarod shrugged. “Then he just sat back and waited for a bunch of spoiled prep school kids to get off a bus. Teddy was chosen at random.”

“That’s a big assumption to make,” Harrison grumped. “What makes you so sure?”

“One hundred K is pocket change,” Jarod glanced at Parker briefly for verification. “If the kidnapper had been after Theodore Parker, he could have asked for ten times as much.”

“I think your logic is a little thin,” Harrison argued.

“It has been my experience that Jarod is usually right,” Parker snapped. “I believe him. I want Jarod to take the ransom to the rendezvous point.”

“It’s a mistake to get a civilian involved in this, Miss Parker,” Harrison frowned.

“Jarod knows what he’s doing,” Parker hissed. “I won’t trust anyone else to do this.”

Harrison sighed angrily and stomped away with growl.

“Are you sure, Jarod?” Sydney asked with concern.

The pretender nodded. “If the kidnapper had done any research on the Parkers, he would know how dangerous it is to cross this family. There are easier ways to make a hundred grand.”

Parker crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “If he hurts my son,” she hissed. “I’ll castrate him with a pair of tweezers.”

“My point exactly,” Jarod said in a wry tone. “The unlucky bastard has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.”

“What do we do now?” Parker asked. Though her voice was strong, Jarod could still detect a trace of vulnerability in her tone.

“We wait,” Jarod said simply. “I’d like to see the surveillance tapes from the museum. I want everything they have for the two weeks prior to the incident.”

Sydney nodded in understanding. “You think our kidnapper may be on some of the earlier footage.”

“I believe our guy spent an inordinate amount of time in the museum getting ready for this. At any rate,” Jarod added with a shrug. “It will give us all something to do until noon tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Jarod,” Parker said in a soft voice.

Patting her arm gently the pretender replied, “Don’t thank me until I’ve brought him home.”









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