THE CENTER, BLUE COVE, JANUARY 10th
Broots pounded his computer desk in frustration. He felt Sydney's comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry Broots. I know you will find something about her."
Broots spun around. "I don't know Sydney! It is like Miss Parker, Raines and Lyle have just vanished. There is no written order from the Triumvirate. No clues. Just nothing!!"
Sydney burrow creased in frustration. "Perhaps Jarod was able to turn up something. I'll – " Sydney's train of thought was interrupted as he got wind of a familiar clicking sound approaching from the hallway.
Broots followed Sydney's gaze, praying that he was not imagining the wonderful sound of Parker's stiletto heels approaching the techroom.
The two were not disappointed, as seconds later Parker, flanked by Lyle breezed into the room.
Not wasting a moment of silence Parker glared at Broots "What do you have on Jarod's current location?" She barked.
Broots just starred slack-jawed at Parker. "But, you.. Triumverate... Africa.. How..." the poor tech mumbled, unable to control the thoughts rapidly spinning in his head.
Lyle stepped in from behind Parker, his usually smug, over-confident posture was evidently ruffled. "That is none of your concern. I want a solid lead on Jarod before anyone of you leaves this building." With that Parker's twin spun around and hurried out of the room.
Sydney turned to Parker. "You're alright?"
Parker returned his comment with an icy glare. "I will be as soon as I can get to my damn cigarettes."
"What happened Parker? Why were you in Africa? Did they do –" Sydney questioned, but was immediately cut off.
"I said, I'm fine Freud." Parker spun around, following the same path her twin had moments earlier. Pausing slightly at the door she turned the two bewildered men, her facial expression softening. "Trust me, you rather not know." And with that she snapped her fingers harshly. "Jarod, Broots. NOW!"
"Sydney what is going on?" Broots whispered. Never before had he felt such an urgency to locate Jarod emanating from the Parker twins. The psychiatrist shook his head, equally as confused. "I'll leave you to your work Broots."
The psychiatrist rushed out of the room, fear for his beloved protégé growing within. He had to warn Jarod.
FERRY DEPOT, SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: January 11th
Jarod sat absent mindedly on the bench, barely aware of the distant sound of fog horns. He was replaying his late night conversation with Sydney the night before.
The psychiatrist had obviously been deeply concerned about Jarod's safety. "I've never seen her like this before Jarod. Something has lit a fire within her, a sense of urgency, and it is fully directed at you."
Jarod had tried to downplay the psychiatrist's fears. "I've evaded them for seven years Sydney, why should this be any different?"
In the end Sydney's uneasiness had won out. Jarod was already slightly apprehensive due to Angelo's mysterious email, and as was often true at the Centre, had a nagging suspicion that Parker's new found motivation for his capture was somehow linked to Corporation Zero. There was no such thing as coincidence when involving the Center. He promised the Shrink he would hang below the Center's radar until he knew fully what he was up against.
Jarod had packed that night, but opted to spend a final night in his apartment. He was just too tired to run out on yet another mini-rendition of a real life just yet. He was planning on slipping north of the border to spend some time on the west coast of Canada. He was awaiting his ferry to Vancouver on this lonely winter morning.
Jarod clutched the brown paper bag that he held on his lap, smiling briefly as he thought of Mrs. Finnegan. Jarod had opted to spend his time in Seattle in a real apartment. He knew it was fruitless, but as his soul was deeply craving a sense of stability, normalcy and family, he found himself indulging more and more often. He had purchased the downtown condo, and furnished it as if he planned to live out the rest of his days there. He had even copied and framed the treasured picture of his mother, and placed it on the mantle of his gas fireplace. Jarod knew he was just lying to himself, and his indulgences only served to make his constant uprooting harder. But he felt as if he couldn't survive any longer in his back alley, invisible existence he had so often embraced on his first few years outside of the Center.
Mrs. Finnegan had been Jarod's incredibly sweet neighbor. A recent widow, she lived for her grandchildren. Every Saturday she spent the day baking for her nine grandchildren in the area. Cookies, cakes and banana bread were her specialties. On Sunday she was often frequented by visitors, or tracked out to the suburbs to visit her own children and grandchildren.
Jarod has found himself spending more and more time with Mrs. Finnegan as his four weeks in Seattle played out. Her stories about her wonderful family filled his heart with laughter and joy. Jarod now understood the full meaning of 'living vicariously' through someone else. Through Mrs. Finnegan, he was able for the first time to picture himself had his life been Centre free, the joys and laughter that could have existed for him.
Jarod again focused his attention onto the paper bag he now clutched in his hand, as if it was his last link to society. He had been unable to leave without saying goodbye to Mrs. Finnegan.
He had knocked on her door promptly at 7am. The two of them had begun a regular early morning tea ritual. She had ushered him in, and before he could say two words a steaming mug of Earl Grey was before him.
Jarod couldn't bear to tell her the truth- that he wasn't likely going to be able to come back. "I have to go away for a few weeks." He had lied. Guiltily he had fabricated a story of how he had a lead on his mother. Mrs. Finnegan didn't know the truth about Jarod's life, but she, just like many others had been privy to the fact that Jarod was lost from his family.
She had hugged him enthusiastically. "Best wishes Jarod!" I will be here waiting for you when you get back." He had turned to leave, but she halted him.
"Wait!" she had scurried excitedly into her kitchen and reappeared with the small brown paper bag he now clutched.
"For your journey, my dear! It is my world famous chocolate chip cookies. I cannot believe you havn't tried these by now!" Jarod had hugged her back. He stared now at the bag, and then glanced at his watched, sighing. Another thirty minutes until departure. Absently mindedly he grabbed a cookie. Perhaps in three weeks time he would come back for a few days. He couldn't dare to break that old ladies heart. Jarod smiled, it was almost like having a home to return to. Almost.
Glancing at the family waiting across from him, Jarod bit into his cookie. Mrs. Finnegan was an amazing cook, and cookies were her number one item. It wasn't until thirty seconds later that Jarod realized the error in his absent mindedness.
As he fell to the floor, his throat closing in, one word came to his mind, "Pistachios." Mrs. Finnegan, through no fault of her own, had failed to disclose the other key ingredient in her world famous chocolate chip cookies : Pistachio nuts, to which Jarod was deathly allergic.
To be continued...