Walking Away
Chapter One ~ Goodbyes
Miss Parker stared at the wooden box intensely, and followed its brief journey into the ground with a pang of pain. Inside was all that remained of her father, the man who had raised her in an almost slipshod, haphazzard way since her mother's passing. The man she had worshipped and adored without ever receiving anything comparable in return. The man who may or may not be her biological father. And the man who, despite all of those things, would always hold a place in her heart as just that.
She tried not to think of the contents of the box, but the images flooded back. The body displayed all the ravages you would expect to find after being held to the mercy of the ocean for almost a month. She had seen him, what was left of him, despite Sydney's protestations. Even Lyle had issued a careful warning; which, if she was honest, just made her want to look all the more. She just wanted to convince herself that it was actually real and not some sick Centre hoax.
The cold January air whipped around her but, like the memorial itself, it had no effect upon her despite the short skirt she had chosen to wear. A strange option for a burial on a cold, frosty morning but one worn in tribute to the dearly departed. Her outfit was one 'Daddy' would have approved of, she was a 'prescence' after all. Only, it wasn't that hard to stand out in such a small crowd.
Both Sydney and Broots had insisted on attending though she suspected their thoughts were more with herself than Mr Parker. No matter how hard she maintained a distance with them both they just wouldn't go away. She was still unsure as to whether that was a good thing or not, but she appreciated their concern. Lyle, who had been suspiciously sincere these past few days, and Raines were also present. The old wheezebag had shown no remorse at the discovery of his brother's body; his main concern had been as to whether anything else had washed up with it. Apart from Willie, the priest and the pall bearers these were the only other attendees.
She suspected there might be one other person keeping an eye on the proceedings; Jarod. She had cautiously glanced around on the brisk walk to the graveside but had not seen him, though she didn't really expect to. Jarod knew how to hide after all. He hadn't phoned her since their last fateful conversation regarding their exploits on the island: Christmas, New Year and her birthday had all passed by without a single word. Though it wasn't unusual for Jarod to keep his head down for long periods whilst he built up a pretend she had been slightly worried he had gone permanently to ground - maybe she had pushed him away just one too many times. She shook that thought from her head, if Jarod wanted to walk away he could have done so a long time ago.
"Miss Parker," a smooth voice whispered from outside her world.
She felt Sydney's hand gently touch her arm, breaking her bubble of solitude, and she finally stirred from her thoughts in time to see Lyle throwing a handful of soil into the grave. Lyle had suggested Mr Parker be buried with their mother, which by all accounts would be a miracle since her body wasn't in the grave. She'd agreed with him only because of that fact.
Shaking Sydney off she knelt down, not an easy prospect in a short skirt and heels but she managed nonetheless, and grabbed a handful of soil herself. Rising she met her twin's eyes and was surprised to see a flicker of something there - perhaps even remorse. She dismissed that thought but was surprised when Lyle quickly looked away from her gaze. Finding that action more disturbing than whatever it was she'd witnessed in his eyes, she let the soil fall slowly from her grasp into the cold depths below.
The others in attendance began to gradually dissipate until only her loyal colleagues, Sydney and Broots, remained at her side. She could feel Sydney's gaze upon her, carefully trying to scrutinise her, trying to assess her state of mind. She pretended to ignore him as he tactfully dismissed Broots and then came to her side again. She continued to stare at the ground rather than face the man who had been more of a father figure to her than the one in the ground. "You don't have to stay Syd," she whispered still staring at the ground, "I'd rather be by myself."
"There is no need for you to be alone Miss Parker."
She let his distinct tones warm her slightly but only for a moment. "I know," she said softly, "not today, please Sydney." She still avoided his gaze, hoping he would understand her words and not force her to use a more harsh tone. He had gently probed her in the preceding weeks, trying to ascertain what had happened in Scotland and she'd been rather offhand with him - something she'd regretted almost immediately but had yet to apologise for.
"Whenever you want that to change," Sydney soothed as he slipped his hand into hers, squeezing gently, "I'll be here."
She tore her eyes away from the ground and towards him, the sincerity in his eyes obvious. She didn't extract her hand immediately, remembering the same gesture he had made when her mother had left her life. He had given her some comfort at that time, as he was now, whilst her father had barely been able to look at her. "Thank you Sydney," she replied quietly as she gave his hand the same gentle squeeze in return. As he smiled at her she reclaimed her hand. Sydney, astute as ever, took this as his cue to leave.
She stood alone at the graveside for only a short time, though time enough to recount the few fond memories she held of her father. She watched a figure slowly approach, intruding on the moment, expecting it to be the one person she had been pursuing for so long. Instead an unfamiliar male form came into view. She tensed herself, glad that she had at least brought her gun with her. She hadn't hesitated in taking her weapon earlier in the day; funeral or not, as long as she worked for The Centre she wouldn't feel safe without it. It was a sad daily reminder of the life she was leading. "That's far enough," she warned once he was less than ten metres away, causing the figure to still his cautious approach.
"Miss Parker?," the stranger spoke confidently hands deep in the pockets of his long coat.
She carefully studied the balding man. She did not recognise him, not from The Centre anyway. "Who wants to know?" She held her hands at her side, tempted to go for her gun as a precaution but experience told her that if anyone from The Centre wanted her dead she would be so already.
"My name's Peter Elliott," he began,"I was your father's lawyer."
Miss Parker folded her hands defiantly across her stomach, "I met with his lawyers last week," she said evenly. Mr Parker's will had already been read, at Raines' insistence. There had been no surprises, he'd left everything fifty fifty between herself and Lyle - who had quickly offered to sell his half of the Parker family house to her.
Elliott smiled and nodded. "I know. He didn't pay me to deal with his financial matters. He paid me to deliver something. To yourself."
She maintained her scrutiny of the odd man who reminded her of an older version of Broots. "And why would he do that?," she demanded in a cool manner even though her interest had been peaked.
Elliott shrugged his shoulders slightly, "He paid me enough not to ask any questions."
"If he did leave something for me, why would he trust you Mr Elliott?" She was already mentally assessing just what it was this man may have in his possession. If he had anything at all.
"I can be very discrete, Miss Parker," Elliott smiled coyly.
She debated with herself for all of ten seconds before her curiousity reigned supreme. "So where is it?," she asked, "And this better not be some ploy - if Lyle or Raines have hired you I won't hold any qualms about making you pay as much as they." Her threat only elicited yet another smile from Elliott.
"It's no ruse Miss Parker, I am merely fulfilling my part of the agreement," he replied warmly. "I have the item in my pocket, I suggest that we shake hands," he added as he began to close the gap between them.
She raised an eyebrow in question and Elliott elaborated.
"In case there are others watching."
"What exactly do you know?," she demanded as he finally came close enough to shake hands. He shook his head slightly.
"As I said, I find it wise never to ask too many questions Miss Parker. Shall we shake hands and finish this?"
She nodded her head in assent, still unsure as to what it was that he was going to pass to her. She couldn't see anything in his hand as he brought it to hers but she felt the metal once they had made contact. The ease with which he slipped it into her hand made her suspect that this was not the first time he had orchestrated such a manouvre. As he slipped his hand from her grasp she quickly closed her fingers around the object, recognising the shape; a key.
"I'm sorry for your loss," Elliott offered sincerely.
"Thank you," she whispered distractedly, her mind elsewhere. Elliott gave her a final smile and took a step backwards. "What does it open?," she asked abruptly, causing him to pause, "Where?"
"I don't know - as I said I don't ask too many questions," Elliott replied.
She nodded, silently dismissing him and watched as he began to walk away. She crossed her arms again, tracing the jagged outline of the key with her thumb as best she could in the restricted space she'd given it. She thought of her father of how he had always lied to her. Would whatever this key unlock lead her to another lie, another half truth, another part of her past that she would despise? She was tempted, for a brief moment, to throw the key into the grave with her father. But she couldn't. She had tried to ignore her past before, every time Jarod shattered another illusion in her life she would swear to herself to stop whilst she was still ahead. But no matter how hard she tried her past always seemed to catch up with her. And she always let it.
Elliott was still visible in the distance when the ringing of her phone broke through her thoughts. She swapped the key for the phone in the secrecy of her pocket, her other arm she kept across her stomach. "What?" She already knew who would be on the other end of the line.
"You must be frozen to the spot by now."
Jarod. She didn't really doubt it would be anyone else. She closed her eyes, willing the fluttering in her stomach to cease. "What do you want Jarod?" There was a short pause before he answered.
"To make sure you were okay."
She kept her eyes closed as her stomach continued to react to the sound of his voice. "I'm fine Jarod, just peachy", she answered breezily. She didn't want to look around for him, she doubted she would spot him anyway. If she did she'd have to chase him; and she didn't want that, not today.
"I wanted to offer my condolences too," Jarod said sotly, "I'm sorry you had to lose him Parker."
She sighed and finally opened her eyes, staring at the open grave once more. Her stomach was beginning to settle. "After everything he did to you Jarod, why?"
"Because he meant so much to you."
She gripped the phone a little tighter, "I hardly warrant your sympathy either Jarod." She tried to put some ice to the words, something she could hide behind. Instead her voice betrayed her, she barely recognised the soft tones that flew from her mouth.
"Maybe not. Doesn't stop the way I feel though, no matter how hard you push me away." Slight emotion littered his voice.
Her stomach began to flutter again and she fought to keep her feelings under control. His words struck a chord with her; she had been in the same position with her father, always being held at a distance, to the side. She'd never given up on him though, she knew how hard it was to walk away from someone - despite everything.
"Miss Parker?"
A single tear rolled down her cheek and she watched it fall to the frosty ground beneath her stillettoed feet. "What?" This time she achieved the harsher tone she was aiming for, as she always did whenever Jarod tried to get too close. Except for that time on the island...
Jarod, genius that he was, heeded the change in her voice and decided not to go down that particular alley at that moment. "Who was your visitor?" he asked instead.
She restrained from wiping her eye, the tears trail cold against her cheek; she didn't want to draw attention toward it just in case Jarod had not seen. "A friend of my fathers, came to offer his condolences," she half lied.
"Really?" Jarod responded, not even trying to hide the sarcasm. He didn't think Mr Parker had any friends, only people he could manipulate or threaten. "That does surprise me. What did he pass to you?"
She silently cursed his snooping, though there was no smugness to his voice - just the usual curiousity. But she was in no doubt now that he'd also seen her shed that one tear. She never wanted to be seen as weak - another wish of Daddys. "Something my father wanted me to have."
"Do you know what it unlocks?," Jarod asked deducing what she had in her possession.
"Not yet," she answered, slightly annoyed that he always seemed to know what was going on in her life.
Jarod nodded to himself as he watched her from afar. "Be careful, Miss Parker," he warned gently, his concern evident in his tone.
"I always am," she said confidently, trying to dispel any previous signs of her weakness. There was silence for a few beats and she had a feeling he was going to hang up on her. "Jarod..."
"What?," he asked, using his pursuers catchphrase.
She hesitated, for a long time Jarod had controlled their calls. In the beginning she would try to keep him on the line in the hopes that he could be traced, but Jarod was smarter than that. Afterwards she would give as good as he gave, their conversations,or verbal sparring, usually involved him taunting her and her denying everything. On the odd occassion she would hang up on him, getting some small satisfaction from that. But now, like the last time he had called, she didn't want the conversation to end. "Have you found your mother?" She asked the first question that came into her head; well, not the exact first question - that would be insane and would have broken every rule.
"No," Jarod answered sadly, "Not yet," yet again copying her words. He had some other things he was working on at that moment. Her question caused him to remember their last conversation - he had memorised every word she'd said. There was something in the tone of her voice, like there was now, that made him certain that the dynamics of their relationship were changing. But it wasn't something he was going to push her on. "I should go," he spoke reluctantly, breaking the silence between them.
"Yeah," Miss Parker mumbled. In all of their previous conversations they had yet to end one in a conventional manner. As Jarod terminated the call she reflected that this was the closest they had come to doing just that.
Slipping the phone into her pocket her fingers brushed against the cold metal causing her weak smile to crease into a frown. She wondered again what secrets she would unlock. Peter Elliott had wanted to shake hands and finish 'it' - she had a feeling it was only just beginning for herself.
Chapter One ~ Goodbyes
Miss Parker stared at the wooden box intensely, and followed its brief journey into the ground with a pang of pain. Inside was all that remained of her father, the man who had raised her in an almost slipshod, haphazzard way since her mother's passing. The man she had worshipped and adored without ever receiving anything comparable in return. The man who may or may not be her biological father. And the man who, despite all of those things, would always hold a place in her heart as just that.
She tried not to think of the contents of the box, but the images flooded back. The body displayed all the ravages you would expect to find after being held to the mercy of the ocean for almost a month. She had seen him, what was left of him, despite Sydney's protestations. Even Lyle had issued a careful warning; which, if she was honest, just made her want to look all the more. She just wanted to convince herself that it was actually real and not some sick Centre hoax.
The cold January air whipped around her but, like the memorial itself, it had no effect upon her despite the short skirt she had chosen to wear. A strange option for a burial on a cold, frosty morning but one worn in tribute to the dearly departed. Her outfit was one 'Daddy' would have approved of, she was a 'prescence' after all. Only, it wasn't that hard to stand out in such a small crowd.
Both Sydney and Broots had insisted on attending though she suspected their thoughts were more with herself than Mr Parker. No matter how hard she maintained a distance with them both they just wouldn't go away. She was still unsure as to whether that was a good thing or not, but she appreciated their concern. Lyle, who had been suspiciously sincere these past few days, and Raines were also present. The old wheezebag had shown no remorse at the discovery of his brother's body; his main concern had been as to whether anything else had washed up with it. Apart from Willie, the priest and the pall bearers these were the only other attendees.
She suspected there might be one other person keeping an eye on the proceedings; Jarod. She had cautiously glanced around on the brisk walk to the graveside but had not seen him, though she didn't really expect to. Jarod knew how to hide after all. He hadn't phoned her since their last fateful conversation regarding their exploits on the island: Christmas, New Year and her birthday had all passed by without a single word. Though it wasn't unusual for Jarod to keep his head down for long periods whilst he built up a pretend she had been slightly worried he had gone permanently to ground - maybe she had pushed him away just one too many times. She shook that thought from her head, if Jarod wanted to walk away he could have done so a long time ago.
"Miss Parker," a smooth voice whispered from outside her world.
She felt Sydney's hand gently touch her arm, breaking her bubble of solitude, and she finally stirred from her thoughts in time to see Lyle throwing a handful of soil into the grave. Lyle had suggested Mr Parker be buried with their mother, which by all accounts would be a miracle since her body wasn't in the grave. She'd agreed with him only because of that fact.
Shaking Sydney off she knelt down, not an easy prospect in a short skirt and heels but she managed nonetheless, and grabbed a handful of soil herself. Rising she met her twin's eyes and was surprised to see a flicker of something there - perhaps even remorse. She dismissed that thought but was surprised when Lyle quickly looked away from her gaze. Finding that action more disturbing than whatever it was she'd witnessed in his eyes, she let the soil fall slowly from her grasp into the cold depths below.
The others in attendance began to gradually dissipate until only her loyal colleagues, Sydney and Broots, remained at her side. She could feel Sydney's gaze upon her, carefully trying to scrutinise her, trying to assess her state of mind. She pretended to ignore him as he tactfully dismissed Broots and then came to her side again. She continued to stare at the ground rather than face the man who had been more of a father figure to her than the one in the ground. "You don't have to stay Syd," she whispered still staring at the ground, "I'd rather be by myself."
"There is no need for you to be alone Miss Parker."
She let his distinct tones warm her slightly but only for a moment. "I know," she said softly, "not today, please Sydney." She still avoided his gaze, hoping he would understand her words and not force her to use a more harsh tone. He had gently probed her in the preceding weeks, trying to ascertain what had happened in Scotland and she'd been rather offhand with him - something she'd regretted almost immediately but had yet to apologise for.
"Whenever you want that to change," Sydney soothed as he slipped his hand into hers, squeezing gently, "I'll be here."
She tore her eyes away from the ground and towards him, the sincerity in his eyes obvious. She didn't extract her hand immediately, remembering the same gesture he had made when her mother had left her life. He had given her some comfort at that time, as he was now, whilst her father had barely been able to look at her. "Thank you Sydney," she replied quietly as she gave his hand the same gentle squeeze in return. As he smiled at her she reclaimed her hand. Sydney, astute as ever, took this as his cue to leave.
She stood alone at the graveside for only a short time, though time enough to recount the few fond memories she held of her father. She watched a figure slowly approach, intruding on the moment, expecting it to be the one person she had been pursuing for so long. Instead an unfamiliar male form came into view. She tensed herself, glad that she had at least brought her gun with her. She hadn't hesitated in taking her weapon earlier in the day; funeral or not, as long as she worked for The Centre she wouldn't feel safe without it. It was a sad daily reminder of the life she was leading. "That's far enough," she warned once he was less than ten metres away, causing the figure to still his cautious approach.
"Miss Parker?," the stranger spoke confidently hands deep in the pockets of his long coat.
She carefully studied the balding man. She did not recognise him, not from The Centre anyway. "Who wants to know?" She held her hands at her side, tempted to go for her gun as a precaution but experience told her that if anyone from The Centre wanted her dead she would be so already.
"My name's Peter Elliott," he began,"I was your father's lawyer."
Miss Parker folded her hands defiantly across her stomach, "I met with his lawyers last week," she said evenly. Mr Parker's will had already been read, at Raines' insistence. There had been no surprises, he'd left everything fifty fifty between herself and Lyle - who had quickly offered to sell his half of the Parker family house to her.
Elliott smiled and nodded. "I know. He didn't pay me to deal with his financial matters. He paid me to deliver something. To yourself."
She maintained her scrutiny of the odd man who reminded her of an older version of Broots. "And why would he do that?," she demanded in a cool manner even though her interest had been peaked.
Elliott shrugged his shoulders slightly, "He paid me enough not to ask any questions."
"If he did leave something for me, why would he trust you Mr Elliott?" She was already mentally assessing just what it was this man may have in his possession. If he had anything at all.
"I can be very discrete, Miss Parker," Elliott smiled coyly.
She debated with herself for all of ten seconds before her curiousity reigned supreme. "So where is it?," she asked, "And this better not be some ploy - if Lyle or Raines have hired you I won't hold any qualms about making you pay as much as they." Her threat only elicited yet another smile from Elliott.
"It's no ruse Miss Parker, I am merely fulfilling my part of the agreement," he replied warmly. "I have the item in my pocket, I suggest that we shake hands," he added as he began to close the gap between them.
She raised an eyebrow in question and Elliott elaborated.
"In case there are others watching."
"What exactly do you know?," she demanded as he finally came close enough to shake hands. He shook his head slightly.
"As I said, I find it wise never to ask too many questions Miss Parker. Shall we shake hands and finish this?"
She nodded her head in assent, still unsure as to what it was that he was going to pass to her. She couldn't see anything in his hand as he brought it to hers but she felt the metal once they had made contact. The ease with which he slipped it into her hand made her suspect that this was not the first time he had orchestrated such a manouvre. As he slipped his hand from her grasp she quickly closed her fingers around the object, recognising the shape; a key.
"I'm sorry for your loss," Elliott offered sincerely.
"Thank you," she whispered distractedly, her mind elsewhere. Elliott gave her a final smile and took a step backwards. "What does it open?," she asked abruptly, causing him to pause, "Where?"
"I don't know - as I said I don't ask too many questions," Elliott replied.
She nodded, silently dismissing him and watched as he began to walk away. She crossed her arms again, tracing the jagged outline of the key with her thumb as best she could in the restricted space she'd given it. She thought of her father of how he had always lied to her. Would whatever this key unlock lead her to another lie, another half truth, another part of her past that she would despise? She was tempted, for a brief moment, to throw the key into the grave with her father. But she couldn't. She had tried to ignore her past before, every time Jarod shattered another illusion in her life she would swear to herself to stop whilst she was still ahead. But no matter how hard she tried her past always seemed to catch up with her. And she always let it.
Elliott was still visible in the distance when the ringing of her phone broke through her thoughts. She swapped the key for the phone in the secrecy of her pocket, her other arm she kept across her stomach. "What?" She already knew who would be on the other end of the line.
"You must be frozen to the spot by now."
Jarod. She didn't really doubt it would be anyone else. She closed her eyes, willing the fluttering in her stomach to cease. "What do you want Jarod?" There was a short pause before he answered.
"To make sure you were okay."
She kept her eyes closed as her stomach continued to react to the sound of his voice. "I'm fine Jarod, just peachy", she answered breezily. She didn't want to look around for him, she doubted she would spot him anyway. If she did she'd have to chase him; and she didn't want that, not today.
"I wanted to offer my condolences too," Jarod said sotly, "I'm sorry you had to lose him Parker."
She sighed and finally opened her eyes, staring at the open grave once more. Her stomach was beginning to settle. "After everything he did to you Jarod, why?"
"Because he meant so much to you."
She gripped the phone a little tighter, "I hardly warrant your sympathy either Jarod." She tried to put some ice to the words, something she could hide behind. Instead her voice betrayed her, she barely recognised the soft tones that flew from her mouth.
"Maybe not. Doesn't stop the way I feel though, no matter how hard you push me away." Slight emotion littered his voice.
Her stomach began to flutter again and she fought to keep her feelings under control. His words struck a chord with her; she had been in the same position with her father, always being held at a distance, to the side. She'd never given up on him though, she knew how hard it was to walk away from someone - despite everything.
"Miss Parker?"
A single tear rolled down her cheek and she watched it fall to the frosty ground beneath her stillettoed feet. "What?" This time she achieved the harsher tone she was aiming for, as she always did whenever Jarod tried to get too close. Except for that time on the island...
Jarod, genius that he was, heeded the change in her voice and decided not to go down that particular alley at that moment. "Who was your visitor?" he asked instead.
She restrained from wiping her eye, the tears trail cold against her cheek; she didn't want to draw attention toward it just in case Jarod had not seen. "A friend of my fathers, came to offer his condolences," she half lied.
"Really?" Jarod responded, not even trying to hide the sarcasm. He didn't think Mr Parker had any friends, only people he could manipulate or threaten. "That does surprise me. What did he pass to you?"
She silently cursed his snooping, though there was no smugness to his voice - just the usual curiousity. But she was in no doubt now that he'd also seen her shed that one tear. She never wanted to be seen as weak - another wish of Daddys. "Something my father wanted me to have."
"Do you know what it unlocks?," Jarod asked deducing what she had in her possession.
"Not yet," she answered, slightly annoyed that he always seemed to know what was going on in her life.
Jarod nodded to himself as he watched her from afar. "Be careful, Miss Parker," he warned gently, his concern evident in his tone.
"I always am," she said confidently, trying to dispel any previous signs of her weakness. There was silence for a few beats and she had a feeling he was going to hang up on her. "Jarod..."
"What?," he asked, using his pursuers catchphrase.
She hesitated, for a long time Jarod had controlled their calls. In the beginning she would try to keep him on the line in the hopes that he could be traced, but Jarod was smarter than that. Afterwards she would give as good as he gave, their conversations,or verbal sparring, usually involved him taunting her and her denying everything. On the odd occassion she would hang up on him, getting some small satisfaction from that. But now, like the last time he had called, she didn't want the conversation to end. "Have you found your mother?" She asked the first question that came into her head; well, not the exact first question - that would be insane and would have broken every rule.
"No," Jarod answered sadly, "Not yet," yet again copying her words. He had some other things he was working on at that moment. Her question caused him to remember their last conversation - he had memorised every word she'd said. There was something in the tone of her voice, like there was now, that made him certain that the dynamics of their relationship were changing. But it wasn't something he was going to push her on. "I should go," he spoke reluctantly, breaking the silence between them.
"Yeah," Miss Parker mumbled. In all of their previous conversations they had yet to end one in a conventional manner. As Jarod terminated the call she reflected that this was the closest they had come to doing just that.
Slipping the phone into her pocket her fingers brushed against the cold metal causing her weak smile to crease into a frown. She wondered again what secrets she would unlock. Peter Elliott had wanted to shake hands and finish 'it' - she had a feeling it was only just beginning for herself.