The Lies that Blind II: Loose Threads By Donna 1998
She woke suddenly, trying to grasp the dream before it fled.
Once again, she failed. Somehow, she knew it was the same dream that had been plaguing her for weeks, something important that she couldn't quite figure out. She knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. She never could after the dream. Try as she might not to think about it, her subconscious simply wouldn't let the matter rest. At time like this, she really regretted giving up smoking.
At the Centre that day, everyone stayed out of her way, as usual. Normally, that was the way she liked it, but today it only served to make her angrier. Sometimes, she just needed to really tear into someone and found it annoying that no one would do anything to allow her to blow off steam...not that she really needed a reason...all she needed was a target.
On cue, there was a timid knock at her door.
"Um...Miss Parker?" Broots called, more than half hoping there would be no answer.
Luck wasn't on his side that day.
Even her usual "What?" seemed laced with more than its normal venom.
Broots looked anxiously around the corridor, hoping someone would save him.
Heading towards his own office, Sidney noticed Broots' panicked expression and decided to have pity on the poor tech. He changed direction and strolled over to the man's side.
"Care for a little company?" he asked the other man.
Broots sighed with relief. He quickly drew his breath in again when the door in front of him opened with a jerk.
Miss Parker stood there, her face a mask of impatient anger.
"Did you have something to tell me or were you just testing out the acoustics?"
Broots looked over to Sidney, who smiled encouragement at the younger man. She turned and strode back into her office, leaving the two men to follow.
Sidney closed the door and took up a position leaning against the wall as Parker resumed her seat and Broots fumbled with the file folders under his arm. "Um...well...actually..."
'Dear God please don't let me drop anything.'
God wasn't listening to Broots at that moment, and papers slid from the file folder scattering every which way. Broots dropped to the floor to scramble after them, trying to get everything back in its proper order.
"Well, you know...a few months back..."
Okay, they weren't too awfully messed up.
"You remember those accounts...the ones that Jarod kept borrowing from..."
Oops, better turn that one right side up.
"Well, I set up a program..."
Surely there was more to it than this...
"A kind of a watchdog type thing..."
Why hadn't he bothered to number the pages?
"Not on those accounts, because we secured them..."
Oh, there's another page...I think that's the last one.
As he reached for it, a foot came down on top of his hand...a foot encased in a black leather boot with a spiked heel...a boot that led up to a very nice leg...
He gulped as she squatted down to look him in the eyes.
"The point, Broots; Today would be good."
"Oh...somebody tripped it."
"Jarod?" she asked hopefully.
"Well, actually...no...I mean, I don't think so..."
She stood and returned to her desk.
"If it wasn't Jarod, why did you think it would be of any interest to me if someone is trying to embezzle Centre funds?"
"Well, because..."
He finally got his papers all together and stood to face her. Sidney interrupted. "Why don't you think it was Jarod?"
Broots turned to face him, relieved to be looking at anything other than those piercing blue eyes across the desk.
"Well, you see, that's the interesting thing. At first glance, I thought it might be Jarod's work. After all, it's nothing that he hasn't done before. But when I really started looking, I realized it couldn't be him."
He looked around expectantly but no one said anything.
"It was just a little bit too sloppy. Jarod is always very precise, very neat, and leaves so little trail that most people wouldn't have a chance of following it...unless he leaves a really broad one that leads all over everywhere."
Sidney nodded in agreement.
"This trail was actually pretty easy to follow and very short, as if someone was meant to follow it...at least the first part..."
"Broots," Parker interrupted, "You were going to tell me why this would be of the slightest interest to me."
Broots took a deep breath and blurted it out.
"Because it led directly to Mr. Parker's private accounts."
She looked up at him quickly.
"You're telling me that my father is embezzling money from Centre accounts?"
"Oh, no," he hastened to reassure her. "At least, I don't think so. But someone wants to make someone believe that he is."
"As much money as the Centre has already lost to Jarod, they would deal quite harshly with embezzlers," Sidney commented.
"Who would want to do that to my father?" Miss Parker asked, coming around the desk to stand in front of the heavily perspiring Broots. "Did you find out who did it?"
"Actually," Broots swallowed hard, "It was your brother."
"Lyle?"
He nodded.
"Why would he want to turn the Centre against his own father? Since he turned up, he's been the golden child who could do no wrong!"
Broots shrugged.
"Maybe he planned to be the hero; show your father what 'someone' is trying to do to him and straighten it out before it was discovered."
Over against the wall, Sidney grunted quietly.
Miss Parker turned to face him.
"Out with it, Syd!"
"What?"
"Your shrink brain obviously has an opinion on this. I want to hear it."
"I was thinking that perhaps Mr. Lyle has unresolved abandonment issues."
"In English?"
"He hasn't forgiven your father for abandoning him as an infant."
"Sidney, my parents were told that he was dead," she reminded him, speaking as one would speak to a slightly dense child. "What more did he expect them to do?"
Sidney shrugged heavily. "Perhaps he felt that they should have investigated the matter, made certain that he was rather than simply accepting the Centre's word."
Miss Parker froze, a warning bell starting to ring in her head.
Sidney continued. "Wouldn't you have asked questions?"
The bells became louder.
"Of course she would," Broots added, turning to face Sidney. "When they told us that you were missing after the explosion, she refused to just accept that; she insisted on going looking for you, dragging me into off-limits areas. Not that you weren't worth it," the tech hastened to assure him.
The clanging in her head drowned out their voices. Of course she knew better than to just accept anything the Centre told her...
Now, she knew.
She had believed them before.
When they told her that her mother had committed suicide.
But they lied about that.
She had believed them...had believed her father...
They told her...he told her...
'I'm sorry, she was just too small and weak to fight it off...'
'I'm sorry...'
Surely he wouldn't lie to her about that...
About her child, his grandchild...
WHY would he lie to her?
It's not like he knew about Jarod.
Did he?
"Uhm...Miss Parker?"
Broots' voice drew her back to the present. She noticed the two men looking at her, concern evident on their faces.
"What?" she snapped.
"What do you want me to do? I mean, about your father...and everything?" the tech asked nervously.
"Fix it!"
"Fix it? How?"
"I don't know how, you moron. If I did, I wouldn't need you now, would I?"
He backed away from her anger. "I mean, what do you want me to do?"
She sighed deeply and focused on him. "Transfer the money from my father's account back to the Centre accounts where it came from...or even better, transfer it into Lyle's account...then erase the evidence. Now, can you remember that or do you need me to write it down for you?"
He swallowed hard. "Into Lyle's accounts? If he finds out..."
"Then you'd better make sure he doesn't find out." She turned and walked back to her desk. When she had resumed her seat, she looked up at him, still standing frozen in the middle of the floor.
"Now, Broots."
Realizing he had been dismissed, he set a new speed record getting out of her presence and back into the safe familiarity of his own station.
Sidney watched as Miss Parker sank back in her chair and closed her eyes. He realized that she had forgotten his presence and took advantage of the opportunity to study her. At moments like this, he could see so much of the little girl he had once known. He had seen her change so much. He knew that her mother's death had changed her from a carefree, bubbly little girl into a sad, withdrawn child. He had done what he could for her and felt rewarded to see her grow into a beautiful, sweet young woman. He remembered her visits to his office, how her rare smiles would light up the room, how she would shyly work around to nonchalantly asking about Jarod.
He didn't know what had caused the next change. He only knew that somewhere in the early 80's, the sweet, hurting young woman had been replaced by a hard, driven woman who hid her pain behind a thick wall of anger and sarcasm. Her smiles were still beautiful, but they were far more rare.
Unaware of his scrutiny, Miss Parker's thoughts were racing.
Raines had told her parents that their child had died. Instead, he had been spirited away to be trained for use by the Centre. Her father had told her that her child had died. Was it possible that the Centre had also taken her? Could her daughter be somewhere in the bowels of the Centre sublevels at this very moment? How could she learn the truth? A small sound reminded her of Sidney's presence. Her eyes snapped open, a sharp remark on the tip of her tongue. She looked over to see him easing the door open. He caught her glance, smiled and nodded slightly as he slipped out and clicked the door closed behind him. 'Just a reminder…I'm here if you need me.'
The words weren't spoken, but she knew his thoughts, as he so often seemed to know hers. Why did this man seem so much more concerned than her own father did?
She straightened in her seat and shook her head. She was at work right now. It wasn't the time to be thinking about Catherine or Sidney. She had to focus on the man who tied them all together, on Jarod, and on how to return him to the Centre.
She turned on her computer and started once more to search her files on him, seeking something that would help her bring him back, something that would help her free herself.
That night at home, there was nothing to distract her and the thoughts she had banished earlier returned in full force.
Knowing that she couldn't fight them, she relaxed and allowed them to wash over her. She took a deep breath and focused on organizing the chaotic thoughts filling her mind.
The first question: had anyone known about her affair with Jarod?
At the time, they had thought themselves very clever, they thought they were keeping a secret. In the years since, she had learned that very little went on at the Centre that was a secret from everyone. She herself knew quite a number of things that were supposed to be secrets. In fact, she had a hidden cache of insurance: tapes, photos, and documents that could be used if necessary to protect herself or to ensure cooperation from numerous Centre employees. Supposing someone knew, a little simple arithmetic would have sufficed to figure out that Jarod was responsible for her pregnancy.
Except that the pregnancy had been a secret also, from everyone but her father. Had her father known about Jarod?
The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed that he could have. After all, he was fairly high up in the Centre. And he hadn't pushed her about identifying the father of her baby.
That wasn't at all like daddy. He didn't rest until he had what he wanted. Even if concern over her condition had kept him from pushing her for answers, he would have pushed somewhere. And somewhere, he would have found out the truth.
If, by some chance he hadn't known that Jarod was the father, he still knew about her. He knew about her red file, about her own potential as a pretender, unrealized, thanks to her mother's intervention. Since there seemed to be some sort of genetic factor involved, there was a good chance that her child would have that same potential. And if he had known that the baby's father was the most successful pretender the Centre had ever discovered? From the point of a sound businessman, it would be foolish to let such a potentially valuable asset out of his control. And Daddy was nothing if not a sound businessman.
He would certainly never allow sentiment to interfere with what was best for the Centre. She frowned suddenly.
Then why had he taken her to Europe for the summer? With the exception of his recent and still unexplained absence, she couldn't remember his ever taking more than one or two days off at a time.
Even when…
The image from the elevator flashed into her mind.
Even when Mom died…was killed…he had only been able to stay away for a couple of days. She remembered sitting in the car next to him the day after the funeral. 'There's a lot of work to do, Angel, and a lot of people are depending on me. Your mother wouldn't want me to let them down. Besides, we want to show them that we Parkers are made of strong stuff. Life goes on.'
But he had taken off several months to travel with his teen-aged daughter when she had gotten herself knocked up.
The more she thought about it, the less sense it made. Never before that time, nor since, had he ever been so attentive to her, so concerned with her welfare. She knew he loved her. She didn't doubt that. She also knew that he wasn't the type of person who easily showed emotion. When her mother was alive, she had filled the girl's life with love and laughter. The emptiness left by her loss had felt even bigger when met by her father's strict emotional control. Until that summer.
Her father had been a rock for her then. He had held her when she cried and laughed with her when the baby kicked. They reminisced about her mother and how much they wished she could be there with them. He told her about mom's pregnancy, about feeling her moving inside her mother. He talked about coming home from a short but urgent business trip to find that she had arrived in his absence. He smiled, remembering the first time he had held her, falling in love with her the first time she looked at him with those beautiful blue eyes. Soon after their return, though, he had reverted to his old ways.
At first, while she was still in the Centre medical facility, he had visited her often, holding her while she cried and listening as she asked the questions without answers. As her strength returned and she was allowed to return home, his patience and time seemed to lessen.
He finally sent her to Switzerland to 'get your focus back'. That was when she had built up her walls, determined never to let anyone get to close to her again. Those who she loved had failed her or left her…her mother…Jarod …daddy…even her own baby. No one would ever hurt her like that again. Daddy had the right idea. He kept everyone at arm's length and kept them living in fear of him. She was his daughter and could learn to do the same. And she did so, with excellent results.
But she hadn't realized how much it would hurt.
Angrily, she wiped tears from her face and headed for the bathroom. She downed something for her headache, something else for her ulcer and splashed some cold water on her face.
The face in the mirror reminded her of another time…
A bathroom at the Centre.
Her eyes, red and puffy, her face pale.
Wishing that she could die right there.
She had a headache from all the tears she had shed in the privacy of the stairwell, and she had just finished throwing up again. The morning sickness was bad enough, but Jarod's reaction had made her feel even worse. Alice, one of her best friends at school had warned her. "A guy is only after one thing. Once you let him get you in bed, he won't want anything else to do with you."
She should have realized it was true when he didn't come to get her like he said. But, like a fool, she had come back, looking for him. He had made it perfectly clear that he had more important things to do.
Again, something nagged at the corner of her mind.
Heading towards the kitchen in search of something to drink, she caught sight of a pile of papers she had brought home. Files, about Jarod and about the people he had helped. Total strangers that he had reached out to. She thought aboout a box, hidden away in her room, a box full of letters and photos and DSA's about her mother. All courtesy of Jarod.
Because he thought she should know the truth.
As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, Jarod didn't deliberately hurt people simply for the sake of hurting them. She might consider him the source of much of her pain, but the truth was, most of it was due to the betrayal of others. Jarod just revealed it to her. And taught her a lot about truth in the process. Time and again, he had done things, told her things to indicate that he cared about her. She had dismissed every one of them, because of his actions on that one day. What had he really said?
'I'm very busy and really don't have the time to talk right now.'
He had snapped at her, but then she had been known to snap at people, too.
Looking back on the incident from an adult point of view, he really hadn't been that horrible. It was just the way her youth and hormones had interpreted it. And she had never given him another chance.
Not that he had ever tried to explain.
Now that she thought about it, that was pretty strange in itself.
Jarod had been pushing her so hard to face her feelings, to talk about things. Why would he avoid ever even mentioning that aspect of their relationship? She had never felt as close to anyone as she had felt to him in those few short weeks, and instinct told her it had been the same for him. How could he pretend like it had never happened?
It wasn't like him. It went against everything she knew about his character.
She looked up at the clock and was surprised to see that it was well after midnight. After all that time, she still had nothing. No answers.
Only more questions.
And loose threads.
Lots of loose threads.
And first thing tomorrow, she was going to start pulling them.
The end?
Look for part III coming soon to a fanfic site near you!