Day 9

It was early, or late depending on how you wanted to look at it. Either way, Jarod and Miss Parker were sitting in the immobile vehicle, not far from her house but far enough. Dawn wouldn't be approaching for another couple of hours.

Miss Parker loaded her weapon with a few clicks and snaps, the sounds viciously harsh in the cool night.

"We won't be needing that," Jarod said distractedly, his gaze off in the distance.

"Jarod, in all my years, any regrets I've had concerning this gun have been that I didn't have it when I needed it."

"You're not coming," he stated flatly.

Miss Parker glared at him in shock, "Like hell I'm not. It's my damn house. You don't even know what to look for."

"So tell me what to look for. If it's a trap, I don't want you to be the one who pays the price. I promised you I'd help you out of this mess and I'm not going to toss you back in now."

Jarod spoke with such determination and confidence that for a second, she almost fell into it.

"Jarod, shut up. If you're so set on one of us going alone it will be me. If it's being guarded, who cares? It's my house. I don't think it's that unusual for me to show up. You on the other hand—"

"Parker, you left and they may not know exactly why, but I'm sure they know it's not for whatever excuse you gave them. The Centre doesn't cope well with manipulation."

Miss Parker crossed her arms decidedly. "If you plan on going, I'm coming with you. Stop wasting our time."

Jarod sighed.

-----

Breaking into her own home wasn't high on Miss Parker's list of fun things to do at four in the morning. Few things were. Too many times during their trek through the woods, Jarod had placed an arm in front of her to halt her movement. They would stop and waste another thirty seconds while Jarod listened to the wind and not much else. Then they'd commence on. When at last they reached her house, Jarod had led her to the crawl space in the side of her home. She'd looked doubtful, but he urged her inside.

Paying homage to the motto, always be prepared, Jarod pulled out a flashlight and navigated them through the dirt, dust, and pipes. Miss Parker couldn't even decipher what region of her home they were crawling under, but Jarod moved confidently. Finally, he reached above his head and removed three wooden slats. She noticed that these wooden pieces were too new to have come with the house.

Jarod then removed a thick wooden square, which the slats had presumably been holding in place. He reached up and pushed. Whatever he was pushing peeled away easily. Using a conveniently located wooden beam under the house as leverage, he jumped up with a grunt and he was gone.

Miss Parker shook her head in disbelief.

"Are you coming or not, Miss Parker?" Jarod's face appeared in the opening with a sly grin.

She looked up at him and Jarod noticed how in the darkness, her bright blue eyes seemed electric.

"You disgust me, you know that?" she said quite seriously, reaching up for the hand Jarod had extended toward her.

Pulling her up in one swift motion, Jarod let her stand and shrugged his shoulders. Parked scoffed at her surroundings, "So why the laundry room, Jarod?"

"One, you rarely do laundry yourself so you being in here is infrequent. Two, the floor is vinyl so I was able to cut around the edges and unglue it, roll it back and forth, without you ever noticing."

"And that is how you have been breaking into my home these past five years," she said.

"Well, when I didn't use the back door anyway," Jarod nodded. "This was more of a backup system."

Miss Parker shook her head disapprovingly and stalked out of the room. "Come on."

-----

After sweeping the room for any monitoring devices, Jarod knelt beside her and shined the flashlight onto her hands as Miss Parker rummaged through her mother's desk drawers. The art studio was eerie at night, and more so since Jarod had actually never been in this room before. This was Catherine and Miss Parker's special place and he had never felt that he had any right to intrude on it before, though the rest of her house was certainly game.

"What exactly are you looking for?" Jarod asked softly after she had searched for a few moments.

Miss Parker sighed, "My mother had an address book. She used to give it to me to send thank you cards to people when they sent me Christmas or birthday gifts or whatever."

"I think you're a few thank you cards behind on me, Miss Parker. I've been sending you unreciprocated gifts for years."

Jarod couldn't see her, but somehow he knew she was rolling her eyes even in the darkness. They remained silent while Miss Parker browsed the contents of the desk.

"Finally," she said, pulling out a thick book with a violet cover, about the size of one hand. Jarod watched her flip open the cover and begin scanning addresses.

"Are you looking for something specific?"

"Just any Maryland address I can find," she replied, turning a page.

Jarod nodded, "Yes that's definitely something I'm incapable of helping you with."

Miss Parker crossed her legs Indian style on the floor and continued her search as if he'd never spoken, occasionally turning the page or running a hand through her hair. Jarod watched her patiently, contemplating briefly if he should browse through the other papers and objects Miss Parker had pulled out or if he should be respectful and leave them be.

Noticing a document that peeked out of a manila folder on the floor, Jarod oh so subtlely spun it toward him so that he could see it. It was a medical record and he was looking into the smiling face of a young Miss Parker. Curiosity got the better of him and he pulled the whole folder closer to him and opened it.

Miss Parker looked up from the book then. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Just looking," he replied casually.

"As if you haven't already perused every scrap of information in my house before, Jarod," she snapped bitterly.

"Actually, this is the first time I've been in this room. I would never come in here without you."

Jarod's chocolatey soft eyes were undeniable in the moonlight and Miss Parker hated how quickly her anger melted away.

"Sorry, this room," she mumbled the words together. "It just makes me..."

Parker waved a hand as if she could bat away the emotions implied in that sentence.

"It's okay," Jarod whispered, a little shocked that she had apologized at all.

She took a deep breath, "You know I've never been in this room alone since she died. I tried so many times, but I could never do it without someone."

Jarod was silent for a moment, incorrectly assuming she would elaborate on her own. "Who?"

"Thomas," she said softly, avoiding Jarod's intense gaze. "Only once though. We just sat on that sofa for hours. I couldn't move. I could sense her presence everywhere I looked, so I just stayed there completely frozen. We hardly spoke, but somehow he understood. He just held me while I cried." Parker wiped a tear from her face and laughed painfully. "Probably scared the hell out of him."

"No. I'm sure he was glad to see there was a real person underneath that cold facade of yours. Thomas stuck around for a reason, and probably not because of your sharp shooting or your leather ensembles. Well," Jarod pretended to concentrate hard, "the leather may have helped."

Parker shook her head and bit back any traces of a smile, "He stuck around for as long as the Centre let him, just like she did."

"It was never your fault," Jarod said definitively, knowing all too certainly what the implications to her sentence were.

She cocked her head slightly and gave him a knowing look, "I'm sure we both wish that were true, Jarod."

He was shaking his head before she even finished her sentence. "Thomas decided to meet you because of all the things I told him about you. If any fault is yours, it began with me."

"Yeah, because everything is a result of you, isn't it Jarod?"

He saw that her eyes were stony again. That brief flash of emotion had disappeared and Miss Parker had a special way of making anyone who saw it feel like an idiot for believing it was ever there to begin with. Jarod knew better.

He sighed, "We shouldn't be fighting over this. We both know the Centre's at fault."

"Conversation's closed, labrat."

Miss Parker redirected her attention to the address book and Jarod to the medical file. Her history was typical, routine childhood check-ups, tonsillitis, chicken pocks, all except for a blood test, the results of which were conveniently absent. Copy of her birth certificate.

"Hmph," Jarod mumbled.

"What?"

"Your birth certificate. There's no name for your father."

"And this surprises you why?" she replied dryly.

He shrugged. "It doesn't I guess. I just don't know how we didn't see it before."

"Raines is not my father."

"You act like Mr Parker is such a better alternative," Jarod countered.

She glared at him, "There's no way in hell, Jarod."

"Biologically—-"

"Here it is!" Parker said abruptly. "I knew it would be here, but it's on its own piece of paper, not in the book. She was hiding it in the back cover."

Jarod scoot himself closer and looked over her shoulder, "1813 Ginger Place. That's awful vague isn't it?"

"What more do you want, a map from the sidewalk to the door?" she quipped.

Jarod arched an eyebrow. "I'd settle for a city or a state for that matter."

"This is it. I can feel it. Look it up."

"Laptop's in the car."

Miss Parker stood, "Then let's go."

"Miss Parker, it's been an awful long time since we've slept," Jarod said from the floor.

He nearly cringed at the are-you-serious? expression on her face.

"Don't wuss out on me now, wonder boy."

"It's a matter of self-preservation. We don't know what we'll find there. We should be well rested."

Jarod had his point as he always did, but she didn't falter in her response, "Well we can't stay here. It's unsafe."

"This room's fine. I already checked it. It's getting in and out of the house that we really need to worry about."

Miss Parker contemplated the idea momentarily and then with a sigh claimed the sofa without a word. Jarod took his cue and lay back on the carpet. A moment later, he was surprised by the sudden smack of a pillow to his face.

"Why thank you," he said with a quick look at Miss Parker, who said nothing and curled herself into the sofa.

It was small, designed for decoration and not comfort, but Jarod took it gratefully and stared at the ceiling for a while before he closed his eyes. Just as he was entering the twilight of sleep, Jarod heard a soft double intake of breath from Miss Parker and he instantly realized she was doing her best to suppress the sounds of her weeping. He sat up and stretched his arm out to grab her hand, gently pulling her to the floor with him. Jarod molded his body around hers and Parker let his hand wrap across her waist while her back shuddered against his chest in silent sobs.

He would never know if she cried for the precious memory she had shared with Thomas on that same sofa she was then lying on, or if it was the sheer emotional ties of her mother's room that had broken her down that night. That his presence could have anything to do with it never even crossed his mind as he held her tightly to him in the darkness. Just as the sun was beginning to rise, her breaths began to steady and finally, Jarod allowed himself to sleep too.

Jarod would remember it as a night where he gave her unspoken comfort as she grieved for her losses. But Parker would always remember it as the first time she fully connected the lifes and deaths of the two people who had truly cared about her to the one person who always had.

Hours later, they left that room. Parker lingered for a moment before hesitantly stepping out of it and closing the door gently behind her.

-----

Parker had been right about the address. The combustible pair had been driving for hours when they pulled up the long drive to a quaint old farm house. The sun had just set and a few lights were on inside the home. Drawing the same conclusions, Jarod and Parker glanced at each other warily as she turned the car off.

"Here goes nothing," Parker said, opening her door.

Jarod followed her as they walked along what posed as a sidewalk, but seemed more like a few strategically placed flat stones, up the stairs to the front porch. The sound of a woman's laughter would rarely be a sign for worry, but for them it signified a potential dead end.

Parker shrugged her shoulders and placed one finger on the glowing button by the doorframe before slowly pushing it. Jarod raised one brow and focused on the sounds of crickets surrounding them.

After a very insecure moment, they heard footsteps and the clicks of unlocking as a woman, probably in her mid sixties, opened the door. Her attention went first to Jarod, who greeted her uncertainly.

"Hi, my name is Jarod and I know this might sound crazy, but we were wondering if we could talk to—"

"My God, you look just like her," the woman intervened upon seeing Miss Parker.

Parker looked from the woman to Jarod and back to her again with doe-like eyes before speaking softly, "Please tell me how you knew my mother."

"And you say your name is Jarod," she said returning her attention to him with an open-mouthed smile. "Please come in."

Jarod and Miss Parker, a bit dazed, allowed themselves to be ushered into the home, through a hallway, and into a cozy living room where a fire calmly flickered. A man with white hair and thick glasses was sitting on a couch watching a news report very intently.

"Rick, turn that thing off. We have guests," said the woman.

"I'm sorry," Miss Parker said, shaking her head and placing a hand on the woman's elbow. "But who are you?"

She responded by placing her other hand over Miss Parker's, "My dear, my name is Tina and this is my husband, Rick."

"My mother," Miss Parker began.

"Seemed like a wonderful lady," Tina finished. She then took Jarod's hands in her own. "But it's your mother that I hold so dearly to my heart."

Jarod's eyes widened and he swallowed nervously while she continued, placing a hand on his cheek.

"I've always prayed that I would get the chance to meet you one day, Jarod. May I assume that you being here means you've found your mother?"

"No," Jarod sputtered out. "I've been trying for years, but I never have. How, who—"

"Let's sit down," said Tina. "It's obvious we have a lot to talk about. Rick, would you put on a pot of tea?"

"Sure, but by the looks of it these guys are going to want something a lot stronger than that," her husband answered, rising from the sofa.

Tina smiled at him and gestured for Jarod and Miss Parker to sit down. They sat on the loveseat against the wall while Tina took her husband's seat on the sofa catty corner to it. Jarod thought he could discern a slight disappointment in Miss Parker's demeanor and he slid a hand over hers reassuringly.

"Your mother and I have been close friends since we were children, Jarod. I shared many invisible cups of tea with Margaret and our baby dolls when we were growing up in Virginia," Tina recalled fondly. "I was even privileged enough to be the godmother of her first child many years later."

Jarod cocked his head slightly, "Godmother."

"Yes, indeed. I promised your parents I would do whatever I could to help them raise and take care of you," Tina laughed. "Little did I know what that job would entail."

Jarod smiled sympathetically, "You helped her try to find me."

"To a degree, yes. I certainly wasn't that qualified. The Centre soon realized that your parents were figuring out who had kidnapped their sons because by then, Kyle had also been taken. One day, they attempted to capture them both and in all the chaos, your parents were separated. Margaret didn't know what else to do, so that's when she came to me with baby Emily. She said she couldn't bare the thought of the Centre taking her as well and that she needed me to protect her while she figured things out."

Jarod and Miss Parker were listening, completely entranced by Tina's words. Rick came in with a tea tray and placed a cup in front of each person before sitting next to his wife quietly while she continued speaking.

"So of course I did, but your mother was so afraid that someone would find out about our friendship that we decided I should move here and change my last name. She felt terribly guilty for leaving Emily with me, but I convinced her that she was doing the right thing. I didn't see her again for months after she left, but when she did return, she brought someone with her whom she thought could help."

"My mother," Parker exhaled as the connection was finally made.

Tina nodded, "Exactly. I don't know how they found each other, but it was a good thing they did. Catherine was so sweet, and she was constantly trying to comfort Margaret who was clearly obsessed with finding her boys. But she's a strong woman and was intent on putting her family back together without focusing on her pain. The two of them talked constantly for about three days, devising a plan they said. I mostly stayed out of their way and cared for Emily, when Margaret didn't insist on holding her anyway."

"So you never heard what this plan was?" Jarod asked.

"I believe they thought it safer for me to not know the details," Tina replied sadly. "All I knew was that they were trying to rescue you and some other children, including you, Miss Parker, and that then they were traveling out of the country immediately afterward."

Jarod nodded, "To Europe."

"Armenia, to be exact," Tina replied, to which Jarod raised his eyebrows slightly, pondering this new bit of information.

"It was spring of 1970," Miss Parker said detachedly.

"Yes. How did you know that?"

"That was when my mother died," she said with a sigh. "Or at least that's what we thought at the time."

Tina looked confused, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know anything had happened to her. After those few days here, they left and I never saw Catherine again. Margaret returned and told me that things hadn't gone as planned and that she couldn't sacrifice time with the one child she had left any longer. She said she'd continue her search, but she didn't want me to have to be involved anymore. She took Emily and left, intent on finding the rest of her family."

Miss Parker sipped at her tea while Jarod spoke, "And you never saw her again did you?"

"On the contrary, about once a year or so, she would come back and stay for a few days. She even came to our wedding," she said, placing a hand on her husband's knee. "I just placed an ad in the newspaper with some key words we had agreed upon when she left."

Jarod's eyes sparkled, "So you know how to get in contact with her?'"

Nodding, Tina said, "I think I'll have to have a chat with the Baltimore Sun right away so that someone can properly meet his mother."

Even Miss Parker smiled when Jarod beamed back in response, "I'd appreciate that so much."

Tina laughed, "Don't go thanking me yet. Sometimes it takes a while for her to catch it. Patience is the key."

Jarod nodded eagerly.

"Now if you'd forgive us old people, but we're up far past our bedtime," Tina said.

Rick stood up with a yawn, "You bet. Now we've got a guest bedroom all set up already and this sofa here pulls out, so you two feel free to honker down wherever you please."

Tina went about collecting the dishes onto the tray and brought them into the kitchen. Miss Parker followed her in, standing silently while Tina washed each cup by hand.

The older woman smiled warmly, "I know it's a lot to take in, but I do hope you can get some sleep, Miss Parker."

"I just want you to know how much we appreciate this. I'm afraid Jarod might burst into song at any moment."

"I'm glad you two found us," Tina said, turning the water off. "And I hope Margaret does, too."