Indistinct murmurs and a brutal headache accompanied Jarod's alarming return to consciousness. He recalled the surprise blow to his head, and assumed Broots was the culprit.
He, however, possessed no immediate explanation for the murmurs---- until his eyes focused on the unarmed figure in a chair, her lean body curled around a book, an empty tumbler upside down in her lap, blue eyes closed.
Miss Parker, an ordinarily consummate professional, had fallen asleep on the job.
Jarod's brow creased in concern. He believed it was anomalous, thoroughly unlike Parker to be incautious, particularly after decades of vigilance, erecting and carefully maintaining boundaries, fortifying defenses.
Logic prompted him to remain silent; instinct, however, compelled him to rouse her. Sam and Lyle were, no doubt, en route to return him to the Centre; the men would find Parker disheveled, vulnerable, looking much too small.
Parker jerked awake before Jarod could arrive at a concrete decision. Seizing the mobile that presently served as a book marker, she quietly swore and frantically dialed. "Sam," she gasped, breathlessly, "anything on Sydney yet?"
Jarod observed her head lower in disappointment. "Damn it," Parker hissed, tremulously. "No, keep looking," she demanded hotly. "Then I suggest you enlist fresh eyes. Yes, more sweepers," she shouted, and swiped the device's face.
"That isn't nearly as gratifying as slamming down a telephone handset, is it?" Jarod asked.
"Son of a," Parker exclaimed, and, then, just as suddenly, fell silent. Her surprise transitioned to rage, and, then, attempts to conceal evident, and, undeniable surprise. "I didn't ask for your opinion."
"You didn't seriously forget I was here just now, did you?"
"Your snoring made that impossible," answered Parker, irritably.
"You did, didn't you?" Jarod asked with increasing concern.
"Not now, Jarod," Parker cautioned brusquely, pouring herself a scotch.
Jarod whispered her name, said gently, "If returning me to the Centre is causing you this much distress perhaps-"
"I knew I was forgetting something," interrupted Parker tersely, lowering her glass. "A muzzle," she added softly.
"I'm sorry," Jarod said. "It isn't my intention to exacerbate the evident stress you're feeling right now. You're poised at a crossroad, on the threshold of a new era in your career. You're finally going to defy your mother to please the corporation responsible for her murder. She'll forgive you for that, and, as you are probably already aware I will escape again. This drinking, on the other hand-"
"Shut up, Jarod."
"Your work's been sloppy," Jarod asserted, sharply. "You've been deploying sweepers rather than personally investigating potential Pretender sightings. I know that you were severely reprimanded for disobeying Raines' direct orders. You've been arriving late and leaving early for months, and--- ignoring me."
"Unsuccessfully," Parker spat.
"And now you're drinking heavily and falling asleep while waiting for transport. Do you want them to kill you?"
"What I want, Jarod, is to find Sydney. And silence."
"It's no coincidence that both Raines and Sydney are missing."
"I don't care that Raines is missing."
"You should," Jarod argued, fiercely. "He and Sydney aren't the only Centre employees who have inexplicably disappeared, and these disappearances, Miss Parker, aren't new. Not only did Raines' favorite sweeper, Willie, and two of Sydney's assistants mysteriously vanish, three of Raines' colleagues have been reported missing over the years- men that both Sydney and Raines worked with."
"Willie resigned," Parker corrected, sternly, "years ago."
"Hmm, yes," hummed Jarod dismissively, "I've read his personnel record in its entirety, however, I wanted the truth so I made my own inquiries into Willie's abrupt resignation."
Parker swung her surprised gaze at Jarod.
"You're displeased," stammered Jarod, softly.
"No," rebutted Parker hastily, adding conversationally, "I'm curious to know just what the hell relevance a decade-old resignation has on Sydney's disappearance."
"Willie's family hasn't seen him since the weeks prior to the date of the alleged resignation. He wasn't at his mother's funeral and his family wants to know why-- why he hasn't so much as telephoned in eleven years. My guess is he didn't leave the Centre, Miss Parker, but then," Jarod added smugly, "no one ever does- not alive anyway. He was no doubt murdered, and the murderer, someone employed by the Centre, tried to cover up the death with a bogus resignation that no one, aside from me, has dared to question. You, too, could be in danger."
"Say it ain't so," repeated Parker, sardonically. "I can't remember a time when I wasn't."
Jarod nodded slowly, said, softly, "This isn't the life I wanted for you."
"Right," drawled Parker, doubtfully. "If that's true you have a helluva way of showing it."
"If?"
"You insist I stay, play this game, feed you information. You refuse to let me go. Why can't you just let me go?"
Jarod straightened in the chair, drew a sharp breath. "Untie me," Jarod demanded. "Briefly," he added swiftly. "You can restrain me again when I've made you coffee. Afterwards, when you're reasonable, we'll find Sydney."
Parker laughed. "I heard about your stint in stand-up comedy, but I didn't believe you were actually funny."
"You need to sober up and listen to me," Jarod said, gravely. "Only one person would disappear Sydney, Raines, and Willie. It wouldn't be the first time Lyle has acted independently."
"Wait," Lyle said, stepping into the room, interrupting Parker's rebuttal. "What am I being accused of now? Ah, the look on your face, Jarod. I wish I were live streaming this. My TikTok would be lit. I'm sure you already have a VPN capable of accessing-"
"Lyle," interrupted Jarod with a throaty snarl. "What are you doing here? And," he added, hotly, addressing Parker, "What is he saying?"
"I was invited-- unlike you," taunted Lyle.
"He was-- what? ighathad?" Jarod struggled to repeat Lyle, comprehend. "Invited?" Jarod asked Parker.
"Impressive, Jarod," Parker said. "With your intelligence and knack for languages I just knew you'd master the dialect quickly."
"He was invited? Tell me he isn't serious, Miss Parker."
"If you hadn't beaten him nearly to death he wouldn't be here--- with gauze stuffed in his mouth."
"He's no where near death," Jarod said. "But perhaps he deserves to be; after all, he killed Willie, and now Sydney and Raines are missing."
Lyle frowned at Jarod's accusation, and softly asked Parker, "You didn't tell him?"
Parker expelled a sharp breath, glowered at her brother.
Jarod swung his curious gaze at Parker, asked pointedly, "Didn't tell me what?"
Parker rose abruptly, and with a snort of frustration said, "I'm not doing this."
"No, no," Jarod demanded, impatiently. "Back up. What didn't you tell me?"
"He's going to eventually find out anyway," Lyle struggled to say clearly.
"Lyle's right," Jarod said. "For once. Excuse us for a moment hmm," Jarod addressed Lyle, and then returned his gaze to Parker, and prompted sternly, "I'm listening."
Parker ground her teeth, laughed mirthlessly.
"What?" Jarod asked in evident concern. "What is it?"
"Bobby has an alibi; he didn't kill Willie."
"An alibi doesn't equate to innocence."
"No, but if you consider both the alibi and the timing of Willie's departure from the Centre you'll reach a entirely different conclusion, and you might even stumble upon the reason I wasn't waiting for you, as I'd promised, at the safe house on the afternoon of our--- appointment."
"Appointment," Jarod repeated with a bitter snort, ultimately opting not to debate the truth with Parker. "I don't under-"
"Yes," Parker interrupted aggressively, "Jarod, you do."
Jarod stared uncomprehendingly at her for a moment, and then shook his head. "You," Jarod whispered.
"The one and only," cooed Parker, blithely.
"That you're aware of," Jarod quipped, bitterly. "What happened?"
"He was in my rear-view when I left the safe house that morning- that last morning."
"Raines ordered Willie to follow you?"
"Raines never had any faith that I'd provide him with anything useful-- and particularly in regards to you, and I would have never made such an amateurish error. Willie was tailing you without Raines' knowledge. He documented the weekend you and I spent together," Parker explained. "Photographs, recordings. His intention was to approach Raines, propose a quid pro quo: evidence of my disloyalty and the address of your lair, our heads on platters-- in exchange for his freedom."
"You intercepted him."
Parker scoffed, repeatedly dully, "Intercepted? That's the most innocuous euphemism for murdering a man in cold blood I've ever heard uttered."
"Raines would have never given him his freedom. He would have killed Willie."
"Mm, that makes two of us."
"Your actions were justified. You saved your life and mine."
"I murdered a desperate, frightened man who wanted to care for his aging mother. He wanted out. That's all he wanted."
"You're remorseful. That's-"
"Am I?"
"Yes," Jarod answered softly, "Yes, you clearly are, because you know, more than anyone, what it feels like to want out, and-- because you're not a murderer. You're not like them. Willie put you in an impossible situation; he coerced you to kill him. Why didn't you ask me for help?"
"I had help."
Jarod lifted his gaze to the ceiling, groaned. "I see. You're helping Lyle because he helped you. Please, don't make the mistake of believing you can trust him. Your mother made that mistake. Remember?"
Parker's eyebrows arched steeply above disbelieving eyes.
"Get something straight, Jarod: I don't trust anyone."
"Is that why you asked Lyle for help?"
"I didn't ask him for help. He found me in the south wing garage-- struggling to lift a corpse into a Centre transport van. He saw the photos scattered around me. He had every opportunity to approach Raines and pitch his own deal. Instead-"
"You can't trust him," Jarod interrupted hotly. "Hell, he's running the Centre now- or has that escaped your attention?"
"Lyle offered the Centre to me. I don't want it. I've never wanted it. He doesn't either."
"You're leaving," Jarod said with a snort of disbelief. "Aren't you? And I'm your final assignment. Of course," Jarod snarled. "Your final act before fully embracing your freedom is to strip me of mine. You must feel," he added sardonically, "so accomplished."
"Sis," Lyle said with an abrupt laugh, despising the slurred ths that departed his mouth when he spoke, "what are we going to do with him?"
"Yes, Sis," Jarod taunted, "what are you going to do with me?"
"We can't kill him," mused Lyle.
Jarod eyes widened in surprise. "You can't?" asked Jarod, intrigued. "You're an awfully prolific murderer, Bobby Bowman, and you've killed me before. I'm sure you're capable of doing it again."
"I didn't kill you. In fact, Jarod, no one's goal that day was to kill you, and I tried to tell Raines that it was illogical and irresponsible to test his drug on the Centre's most valuable asset. It could've cost the Centre trillions of dollars in contracts not to mention the loss of an irreplaceable asset."
"I'm so happy to hear that the Centre's financial health was your primary motivation for not wanting me dead."
"In retrospect," Lyle continued, "I had no idea that my dire warnings would inspire Raines to clone you."
"And my sister? Why did you try to kill Emily?"
"Emily was in the wrong place at the wrong time. My sister here had the luck of using a pillow to fake-murder Jacob. It was all rather mess free and easy to pull off. I had two options, Jarod: toss Emily out of a window and hope the cloth awning below would cushion the impact or fire a bullet into her brain; I decided that only one of those was survivable. Would you have preferred the latter?"
"Don't say her name, and don't pretend you aren't a murderer," Jarod snarled.
"That would be difficult, considering I murdered my best friend prior to graduating high school. I assure you, Jarod," Lyle added brusquely, "you're the only pretender in this room."
"Tell him why, Lyle," insisted Parker.
"It doesn't matter why." Lyle said.
"Wait," Jarod demanded. Deep creases marred his brow, revealed perturbation. "What just happened?" Jarod asked. "What am I missing here?"
"Nothing, Jarod," Parker asserted. "You know damn well that Raines abducted Lyle seconds after he was born and placed him with insane people. He was abducted and raised by people who didn't care about him, and exploited the same way you were. What you probably don't know is Raines promised Lyle protection and freedom if he proved he was capable of obeying his orders. The murder and frame job was Raines' idea."
"Wait a minute. Are you're comparing me to Lyle? Is that what this is? You and I are like him because we were forced to make hard choices? Coerced to kill? I'm nothing like him."
"No, of course not. The morally superior genius was abducted and falsely imprisoned when he was a child, but miraculously didn't turn out like Lyle--- or Kyle or Ethan, who were also, by the way, forced to make hard choices."
"It's no miracle at all," Jarod said. "I had Sydney," he explained, hotly, "Kyle didn't. Neither did Ethan. Raines trained my brother, both of my brothers, to be his personal assassins. It's not their fault."
"But it's Lyle's fault? Just who the hell, Genius, do you think trained Lyle? Mm?" Parker asked. "Raines trained both of my brothers, too-- or did that," Parker asked, lowering her voice and tossing his words back at him, "escape your attention? The truth doesn't change simply because Lyle is my brother and not yours, and because you hate him. Tell him, Bobby."
"It's not important, Sis."
"Fine," Parker hissed, swiveling in four inch Ferragamo pumps, and walking angrily to the receiving table where she retrieved a DSA.
"What is that?" Jarod asked when she reentered the room.
"The leverage Raines has on Bobby."
"Had? Did you kill him, too?"
"Not yet," Parker answered with unflinching resolve, her remorse suddenly and strangely absent, and supplanted by insouciance. "I didn't believe it. Hell, I still doubt my own eyes, even when I take into consideration that none of his class mates said anything to indicate he'd commit murder. They seemed genuinely saddened by the loss."
"Pardon," Lyle said. "You spoke to my class mates?"
Parker and Jarod shared a protracted look. "Long story," Parker answered Lyle succinctly, and addressed Jarod once more, "Bobby refused to obey Raines, and Raines, as you can imagine, was enraged. He ordered sweepers to pose as teachers, cops, and neighbors, and, armed with lies, visit Bobby's foster parents and lodge false complaints about Bobby. Raines knew the old man would punish Bobby. He did. And he nearly killed him."
"I'm not gonna lie," Lyle interrupted. "After a couple of months of being chained up in that shed, stripped, starved, and beaten with barbed wire and 2x4s I would have massacred the entire town if Raines had said it was my only way out. I didn't know then that there was no out."
"Let me guess," Jarod said, addressing Lyle, "once you were out, there was one more job, and then another, and by then you were in too deep to even see an exit?"
"I don't want your pity." groused Lyle.
"That's good," Jarod retorted brusquely, "because you're not going to get it." He returned his gaze to Parker "Where did you find the DSA?"
"Hidden beneath the false bottom of a file cabinet-- inside Sydney's office."
"Are you suggesting-"
"No," interrupted Parker, sharply.
"No one's suggesting anything, Jarod," Lyle said. "It's pointless to jump to conclusions-- the way you've been doing. What we should be doing is trying to find Sydney. Don't you agree?"
"I'm still not convinced you haven't hurt him."
"You don't have to be convinced," Lyle said. "You're a genius, aren't you? You can suspect me while you help my sister find the old guy, can't you?"
"Why do you want me to help her? Why do you care about Sydney?"
"Who said I care about Sydney? I care about me. I care about my face. Tell you what," Lyle said, "We'll untie you if you leave and promise not to come back."
"I won't be back-- unless I discover that you—either of you—lied to me."
"Hmm," Lyle hummed, shifting his eyes skyward, and tilting his head left and right as if struggling to make a decision. "That works for us," he said, at last. "Are you going to untie him now?" Lyle asked Parker.
"Do it," Parker demanded. Withdrawing from the room, Parker slid her gaze to Jarod, and bid him an earnest farewell: "Break into my house again and I'll kill you."
Lyle grinned mischievously, but, then, with a double take of horror, glimpsed Jarod's satisfied smile, and immediately sobered, frowned.
"You find it funny that she threatened to kill me?" Jarod asked, bemused.
Infuriated, Lyle shook his head, and, as promised, freed Jarod.
Parker's brother grieved the version of Jarod that categorically believed Parker's threats, the Jarod who was frightened of her, and, therefore, didn't grin along with him when Parker issued aforementioned threats.
"You do," insisted Jarod, standing, and, with a grimace of discomfort, stretching.
"Not anymore," Lyle answered, testily.
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
