01/04/03
The Other Side of Despair Part5
The bedroom door opened quietly and Sydney tiptoed into the room. Her small sock covered feet moved soundlessly across the wooden floor.
This was her daddy's bedroom. If he caught Sydney here he would surely be angry. But the child's curiosity had gotten the better of her. The grownups in the household were all napping after the huge holiday meal they had eaten a couple of hours ago. Sydney had overheard grandma say that had even her father had drifted off on the sofa in his study.
Sydney should be sleeping too. Momma had tucked her in for an afternoon nap before retiring to her own bed for some rest herself. But Sydney hadn't really been tired. She hadn't eaten much turkey but had downed several pieces of pie smothered in whipped cream. The resulting sugar rush would keep her up for hours.
After crawling out of bed in her room, Sydney had crept next door to her mother's room. For a while, Sydney had lain quietly on top of the coverlet with her mommy and had watched her sleeping. The child loved to watch her mother, especially when her mother didn't know she was being watched. Sydney was convinced that her mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, almost like an angel.
While gazing curiously at her sleeping mother, Sydney had gotten an idea. She had tread softly down the hallway and slipped into this room to learn more about the intimidating man who was her father.
Sydney looked around inquisitively. The room was an elegant décor of tan, burgundy and brown. The furniture all seemed larger than normal to the little girl. She hauled herself up on to the king-sized bed. Lying in the middle of the bed, she stared up at the ceiling and tried to imagine her father sleeping in that exact spot. Sydney rolled onto her tummy and buried her face in the pillows. She could smell the tangy, spicy scent of aftershave clinging to the quilt.
After a few minutes on the bed, Sydney slid to the floor and moved to the dresser. As quietly as she could, the little girl slid the bottom drawer open. Rummaging among the blue jeans and sweat pants, Sydney searched for clues to her father's personality. Finding nothing but clothes, she sighed, closed the drawer and moved up to the next one. She repeated this action for as many drawers as she could reach but found nothing of interest.
Beside the dresser stood an easy chair. The little girl crawled into the chair for a few moments. Kneeling on the cushion, Sydney leaned over the arm of the chair to look at the book sitting face down on the end table. "The collected works of Mark Twain" was imprinted in gold letters on the book's leather spine.
With a shrug Sydney left the chair and padded across the room to the closet. The door squeaked slightly as it swung open, causing Sydney to freeze for several moments in anxiety. When it became apparent that no one had heard, the little girl glanced in the closet. Several pairs of shoes lined the floor. Suits, several cotton shirts and assorted jackets hung from hangars above her head.
Sydney stepped into the closet. Closing her eyes, she twirled among the combined fabrics of silk, wool and leather. With a sudden thud, her foot collided sharply with something hard, bringing bright tears to the child's eyes.
Sydney crouched down to rub at her stinging toes. Her brow furrowed as she looked up and saw the object that she had stumbled on. Tucked on the floor in a dark corner of the closet was a silver case.
The little girl was puzzled. Too small to be a suitcase, and too large to be a briefcase, the casing looked like it was made of metal. Sydney had never seen anything like it before. Grabbing the handle, she found it to be heavy but not so much so that she couldn't lift it.
She pulled the case out of the closet and sat on the floor to study it more closely. The hasps were made of button latches like the ones on mommy's suitcase. But when Sydney pressed the latch with her thumb, it wouldn't move. It was locked. She could see where a key could be used to open the case but Sydney couldn't find a key.
Sydney climbed back onto the over stuffed chair. Standing on the tips of her toes, she strained to see the top of the dresser. No key there.
Sydney heard the soft voice of her grandmother passing in the hallway. Staring wide-eyed at the door, she waited breathlessly for the sounds of movement to dwindle. When she felt it was safe again, Sydney scurried from the chair to kneel on the floor in front of the silver case.
Sydney knew that she could not stay here much longer before she was discovered. But she didn't want to abandon her treasure. The fact that the silver box was locked was a sure sign that this was important. What could she do?
Gnawing at her lower lip, the child pondered her situation. Suddenly coming to a risky decision, Sydney grabbed the handle on the case and stood up. The heavy metal bumped into her knees as she hauled the case to the door. She would take her prize to her room and hide it in her fort.
This morning, while preparations for the holiday dinner were being made, Uncle Jack had kept Sydney occupied in her room by building her a fort. Made up of blankets draped over three chairs, the small tent was held together with books and clothespins. The resulting structure had been just big enough for Jack to sit inside it cross-legged. Sydney had curled up in his lap with a flashlight while her uncle had told her silly stories.
Sydney would take the case to her room and hide it under the blankets in her fort.
Setting the case against the wall, Sydney carefully opened the door and peaked in to the hall. Once she was sure that the corridor was deserted, she lifted the case with both hands and hurried toward her own room as quickly and quietly as she could.
Late the next afternoon, Jarod stood in the kitchen rummaging through the leftovers in the refrigerator. Some of yesterday's turkey remained, wrapped in foil. But it was a slice of apple pie that Jarod was after.
Today had been a quiet day. The weather outside had turned cold and rainy making it a good day for lying around lazily. Little Sydney had spent last evening and all day today playing in her room. Parker had spent her time that afternoon with Ethan. As a result, Jarod had been able to emerge from his study without worrying about bumping into either of them.
Admittedly, hiding out in his office all weekend was a cowardly way to deal with this situation. But being in the same room with Parker and her little girl was exhausting. The warmth that radiated from the pair pulled at Jarod like a moth drawn to a flame. For the first time in years, Jarod had felt the same isolation as he had suffered when he'd first escaped from The Centre.
The emotional walls Jarod had so carefully built over the past six years were beginning to crumble. The battle to keep them up was taking its toll on him.
Jarod had watched the two of them all during the holiday meal yesterday. Miss Parker glowed with affection for her daughter and the little girl was such a lovable little sprite. Jack teased the child unmercifully until Sydney was reduced to a fit of giggling hiccups. Parker had smiled more during that one hour than Jarod had seen in the nearly three decades he had known her.
An unfamiliar feeling churned in Jarod's stomach every time Parker grinned at his brother Jack. It wasn't until little Sydney had proudly given the first piece of her pie to her Uncle Jack that Jarod began to recognize the sick sensation for what it was. Jealousy had squeezed Jarod's appetite into dust.
Jarod pulled a pie tin from one of the refrigerator shelves and sat alone at the table with a fork. Eating straight from the pie plate, he munched thoughtfully at the desert. The abrupt realization that Jack, genetically speaking, was just as much Sydney's father as he was, made Jarod feel ill. His fork clattered into the dish with abandonment.
Jarod stared morosely at his plate. Perhaps he should encourage Jack to take on that role in little Sydney's life. Jarod would provide financial support while Jack could give the girl the paternal figure she obviously desired. Jack was better suited to it anyway, Jarod thought. The younger man didn't have the bitter dark blots on his soul that Jarod endured.
With a heavy sigh Jarod closed his eyes to further contemplate this new option. An image formed in his mind. The image consisted of Parker, her little girl and Jack holding hands happily. It made for an adorable picture. Jarod opened his eyes and sighed again. It could work, he supposed. If he never came home for holidays to see the three of them together, Jarod might be able to get accustomed to the idea.
Jarod stood to put away the rest of the pie. Leaning his forehead sadly against the freezer door he mumbled to himself. "Who are you trying to kid, Wonder-boy?"
If Jarod arranged things for Jack to become an integral part of Parker's little family, how long would it be before Jack found his way in to her bed? She would always see in Jack the pretender she had grown up with. And Jack was no idiot. Parker was a remarkable woman. It never occurred to Jarod that Parker wasn't the dream girl of every man's fantasies. It never dawned on him that Jack might not be interested.
From upstairs, Jarod suddenly heard Parker's voice as she called loudly to her daughter.
"Sydney?" Parker called. "Honey? Open the door."
Jarod tilted his head and frowned as a banging sound echoed through the house.
"Sydney!" Parker called again.
Jarod stood and moved to the kitchen door where he could better hear the drama unfolding upstairs.
"Sweetheart?" Margaret called gently. "Talk to Grandma. Are you okay?"
Parker pounded heavily on the bedroom door. Her voice took on a frightened tone as she called to her daughter again. "Sydney! Please answer me!"
"Charles!" The panic that edged his mother's voice as she screamed for her husband spurred Jarod into action. He dashed down the hall and took the stairs two at a time. Jarod reached his mother's side at the same time his father did.
"What's wrong?" the Major asked.
"Sydney has locked the door and she won't answer us." Margaret cried.
Jarod pounded forcefully on the wooden panel and growled menacingly. "Open this door young lady, right now!"
"Jarod." Parker pleaded. "Don't frighten her."
Jarod grabbed the doorknob and shook it hard. By now, the hallway was filled with the rest of the family as Ethan, Jack and Syd hurried to join the group.
Margaret grabbed her husband's arm. "Get some tools." She urged him.
"Don't bother." Jarod growled waving his parents back. With a massive kick, Jarod's boot made contact with the door just to one side of the knob. Wood splintered and the lock gave way abruptly. The door flew open, banged against the wall with a crash and rebounded.
A damp chill filled the room from an open window. Sydney was nowhere to be seen and the bed was empty. Against the far wall a tent of blankets stood draped over some chairs. Taped to the front entrance of the tent was a sign, printed in large red letters.
"Keep Out! Top Secret!" the sign read.
In long angry strides, Jarod crossed the room to tower over the tent. He grabbed the blanket at the top of the structure and, in a shower of clothespins and clattering books, Jarod yanked the blanket away.
The sight that greeted him from the confines of the little tent made Jarod's heart plummet into an icy ball of lead in his stomach.
Jarod's silver DSA case sat open in the center of the small space between the chairs. Small shiny disks littered the ground around the case. A legal pad and wads of yellow paper were mingled chaotically among the disks.
Little Sydney was gone.
Margaret began to moan, a low sound in her throat. "Oh please, no. Not again." She whispered harshly. "Not again."
"Sydney!" Parker dropped to her knees to look under the bed. She then bolted to her feet and ran to the closet to search inside. "Where is she?" Parker cried.
Chaos began to erupt around Jarod as his mother began to panic. Parker hurried to the elder Sydney's side and clutched frantically at his arm. "Sydney? Where is my baby?"
Jarod stared wordlessly at the jumble at his feet. Something inside him began to tremble. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an effort to control him self. But the shaking increased until Jarod's body was shuddering uncontrollably.
His mother's voice echoed in the room. "Not again. Not again. Oh please, not again."
"I'm calling the police." Major Charles declared.
"Wait." Jarod croaked through dry lips. Moving slowly as if he was in a dream, Jarod fell to his knees in front of the ruined fort. He crawled on his hands and knees in to the center of the small area and sat in front of the DSA player.
Swallowing hard, Jarod closed his eyes and began to do something that he had not tried for more than five years. He pretended to be someone else. He pretended to be his little girl.
Parker recognized the motions Jarod was making. He was breathing deeply and performing relaxation techniques that preceded his emersion in a pretend.
Jarod opened his eyes and studied his surroundings curiously. A small piece of wire on the floor caught his attention. Jarod picked up the mangled paper clip and rolled it around in the palm of his hand.
"She used this to pick the lock on the DSA case." Jarod said.
Bending low, Jarod gazed intently at the DSA player. Running the pad of one finger along the edge of the case, Jarod found white dust sprinkled about. Touching his finger to his tongue, he discovered that the white dust was powdered sugar. On one of the chairs nearby sat a plate of gingerbread cookies. The sugar had come from the top of the cookies.
Jarod frowned for a moment in confusion. He picked up the legal pad. Written in neat block lettering, much like his own handwriting, was along list of nonsense words. Each word consisted of different combinations of the same five letters. A hasty inspection proved that the crumbled sheets contained similar lists of jumbled letters. The lists went on for pages and pages.
"My god." Jarod gasped. "She is a smart kid."
The look he shot at Parker was full of desperate shock. "She scraped the powdered sugar off of her cookies and sprinkled in over the key board to find my fingerprints. The only keys ever used are the five the make up the password. Therefore the letters on the keyboard with fingerprints on them must be the ones used in the password."
Jarod flipped through the pages on the legal pad, each jumbled word on every list had a neat line drawn through it.
"She must have spent all night methodically trying different combinations of letters." Jarod said with awe. "She locked the door so no one would find out what she was doing."
"Jarod." Major Charles said gently. "There are thousands of possible combinations for five letters."
Jarod nodded. "It looks like she got lucky. She only needed to try about fifteen hundred of them before she stumbled onto the right one."
Jarod glared angrily at the aging psychiatrist standing beside the bed. "Did you teach her this, Sydney? Did you teach her how to break into a system this way?" He growled.
"Jarod, I swear to you." Sydney said gently. "I had no idea she could do anything like this."
Jarod scooped up a handful of disks from the floor, studying them thoughtfully. From the looks of this mess, the little girl had gone through a great number of the disks. However, there were still a lot of them neatly filed in their proper holders. Something had stopped her from watching anymore.
With a strange feeling of dread, Jarod flipped the DSA viewer on and started to play the disk that had been left in the machine.
The high-pitched screaming of an adolescent boy screeched from the speakers. Jarod flinched and the rest of his small audience all jumped.
"NO!" the boy wailed miserably from the DSA. "Sydney, please! IT HURTS!"
Jarod jerked the disk out of the slot and threw it across the room. Bolting to his feet, he pulled back one foot and kicked violently at the view screen. In a satisfying shower of plexiglas and sparks, the monitor skittered across the floor and burst against the wall.
Sighing heavily, Jarod sat on one of the chairs with a thud. Burying his head in his hands, he shook his head sadly. "She wasn't taken." Jarod sighed. "She's running."
Parker glanced out the open window. Cold rain pelted through the opening and onto the floor. A shiver of fear ran down her spine as Parker realized it was getting dark.
"Are you sure?" Parker asked.
Jarod stood swiftly. "Of course I'm sure." He grumbled. "She's found out that her beloved Uncle Sydney was the head villain in a modern day torture chamber. And she knows that Mommy used to work there too." Jarod dragged his hand through his hair. "She is more than a little upset."
Parker looked anxiously out the window again. She swallowed. "How long has she been gone?"
"Long enough for the carpet to get soaked and the DSA player to automatically shut down." He answered. "From the temperature in the room I'd guess that the window has been open for at least thirty minutes."
Jarod and Parker exchanged a wordless look.
"I'll find her." Jarod said firmly as he walked toward the window.
Folding his tall frame awkwardly through the opening, Jarod slipped outside onto the porch roof. The flat surface was slick with icy rain as Jarod carefully made his way to the edge. When he looked down, he found that he was only about twelve feet from the ground. An easy jump for a man his size, the height must have been awesome for a little girl barely three feet tall.
Jarod swung to the ground then turned and examined the trellis along the side of the porch. In the summer, the wooden framework was a riot of color, filled with rose blooms. But now, the blossoms were gone and the leaves were all dead, making a convenient ladder to the ground. A bright yellow piece of fabric caught among the thorns stood out like a beacon.
Jarod's parents and Miss Parker burst out of the kitchen and onto the porch to stand beside him in the rain.
"Was she wearing yellow?" Jarod asked.
Parker nodded. "A yellow t-shirt."
Jack came from the house carrying a large water resistant jacket. He handed it to Jarod. "We'll get a search party together." He said.
"No." Jarod said as pulled on the coat. "In this rain, following her trail will hard enough without a crowd tromping all over her tracks. Give me an hour to track her. Then send out search parties."
Jack nodded then handed Jarod a second jacket. Jarod stared in surprise at the little pink coat in his hand.
Parker gasped. "She's out here with no jacket." She cried softly.
Jarod swallowed. "And I think she's barefoot." He added morosely. He stuffed the little coat against his body and zipped his jacket closed over it. "I will find her." Jarod vowed.
Parker nodded helplessly. Jarod scanned the ground carefully for a minute and then sprinted off across the grass.
To Jarod's well-trained eye, the point where the little girl had entered the woods was easily detectable. Once under the canopy of trees, the rain was less annoying but the path was gloomier and getting darker with each passing moment. Sydney's trail was easy to follow. She'd been running blindly and Jarod found more than one place where she had fallen. He realized that she was probably crying.
"Don't think." Jarod growled to himself. "Just find her." But he couldn't help himself. Years of training had taught Jarod how to see things by looking at the clues left behind. In his mind, Jarod could see Sydney running. He could see her slipping and sliding down the wet embankment, tears running down her muddy face as she sobbed.
He burst through the tree line and Jarod found himself staring at a rocky riverbed. The water was frothy with rapids.
"Oh, God." He whispered. "Please stay away from the water, please, please, please."
Jarod searched the surrounding rock covered area for signs of the girl's passing. To his left he found a muddy print on a stone. Sydney wasn't barefoot but was in only her socks. The sock print, nearly washed away now by the rain, told Jarod that the girl had slipped and fallen here. He found blood on flat rock nearby. Not much. She must have scraped her palms when she fell.
Jarod found another sliding mud print several yards down stream. He also found a discarded pair of cotton socks. Sydney had stopped to remove the slippery things from her feet. Jarod looked around him frantically as the rain began to get worse. Without the socks to leave prints, and with the rain hiding any new disturbances among the rocks, Sydney's trail was gone.
In an effort to find some clue, Jarod began making small yet ever widening circles around the spot where he'd found the girl's socks. Breathing heavily, he ran his hands through his wet hair and looked around.
"Sydney!" Jarod called.
'Where would a cold and frightened little girl go?' he asked himself.
Jarod clambered up the rocky incline toward the trees. Just before he reached the tree line, Jarod spotted a crevasse formed between two large stones. An evergreen tree had partially fallen over the stones to create a blanket of sorts over the boulders. Remembering the tent in the child's room, Jarod hurried over, pulled back the drooping branches and peered into the dark opening.
Sitting in the dark but dry little fissure was Sydney. Curled into a tight ball with her eyes pressed against her knees she was bawling her little heart out in misery.
Jarod's knees nearly gave out as his body sagged in relief. He leaned against the stone for support and allowed himself to simply revel the sight of the little girl. The knot in his stomach began to ease as he realized that he would not have to go back to Parker empty handed. With a sigh Jarod slipped in to the little cave and sat on the soft earth.
'Face it, J-man.' Jarod thought to him self. 'You'd have never gone back without her.' Jarod knew that he would have crawled through Hell and back on his knees rather than face Parker if he had been unable to find the little girl.
The space between the rocks seemed claustrophobically small to Jarod but it was a comfortable fit for a small child. The girl still wept noisily, unaware that she had company.
Jarod spoke softly, yet his voice still startled her. "You've given your mother quite a scare." He said gently.
Sydney's head popped up. Sniffling, she stared wide-eyed at her father. Her eyes were swollen and puffy from crying and tears had made dirty tracks down her face. She was wet and her hair clung damply to her head in tangled strands.
"You frightened everyone very badly." Jarod told her.
Hiccupping around her sobs, Sydney looked woefully at him. Her lower lip trembled as she spoke. "That place, The Centre, they hurt that boy." She said ignoring his comment.
Jarod glanced at her warily. "Yes." He said truthfully.
Sydney stared at Jarod intently. "Did his mommy send him there because he was bad?" She heaved.
Jarod shook his head. "No."
There had been a time in his life when he did believe that he must have done something to deserve what happened to him but the truth was that he'd been an innocent victim of greed and avarice.
"Uncle Sydney was there." The little girl's voice dropped to nearly a whisper.
"Yes." Jarod answered.
"He hurt that boy." Sydney accused. She was terribly upset by what she saw as deception from her Uncle Sydney.
"Sometimes." Jarod said. There was no point denying anything, Sydney had seen the proof.
Lips wavering, she said, "You were that boy."
With a sigh, Jarod nodded.
Sydney began to sob again, speaking between little gasps of air. "Uncle Sydney put you in that dark place and he hurt you. You had no mommy to kiss the hurt away."
Jarod stared at his daughter in wonder. She was crying for him. This little wisp of a girl was weeping over things that had happened to Jarod decades ago.
"How do you make hurt go away with no mommy to kiss it?" Sydney asked in anguish.
The girl's empathy for the little boy Jarod had once been was overwhelming. He inhaled sharply as his vision began to blur with unshed tears.
"You don't." Jarod laughed sadly. "The hurt never really goes away. It stays with you all stored up like a squirrel stores nuts for winter."
"Oh, Daddy!" Sydney cried. She threw herself across the short space that separated them and wrapped tiny arms around his neck. "I'll kiss it for you." She sobbed as she pressed her cold lips against Jarod's cheek. Again and again Sydney kissed his cheeks, his neck and his forehead.
Crying openly, Jarod held on tight while his small daughter rained him with love and kisses.
It took a couple of minutes for Jarod's mind to register the iciness of Sydney's touch. With a small gasp he pulled the girl from around his neck and quickly wrapped her in the pink coat he'd brought with him.
"I've got to get you home." Jarod declared.
He unzipped his jacket and pulled Sydney into a warm embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck once again. Jarod maneuvered his way out of the small shelter and settled Sydney on one hip before zipping his jacket closed over the little girl.
With Sydney cradled against his body, Jarod cautiously started to walk back the way he had come. Sydney laid her head on his shoulder and nuzzled against his neck.
"Daddy?" The little girl sniffled.
"Hmm?"
"My mommy can help make the hurt go away." She said innocently. "She's real good at it."
Jarod squeezed his precious bundle. "I don't think so, Kitten." He sighed. "Your mommy and I. Well, let's just say that when it comes to dishing out hurt, she and I always do a hell of a job on each other."
"Why?"
"I don't know." Jarod answered honestly. He thought about it for a few minutes then said, "Maybe we know each other too well. Maybe if someone knows who you really are deep inside, you can't help but hurt each other."
"Does Momma know who you really are?" Sydney asked.
"She used to." Jarod said. He stopped and placed small kiss on his daughter's forehead. "When we made you, she did."
As Jarod resumed his trek through the woods, he looked up and saw men on horseback in the distance. He called to them and was quickly joined by his father and Jack. Jarod swung up onto the extra horse they had brought with them. While they rode back to the ranch, the Major used a radio to call off the search and inform everyone that little Sydney was safe.
When they reined up in front of the house, Sydney was fast asleep against her father's chest. There was a great commotion upon their return. The child's grandmother wept with relief and her mother checked her over repeatedly for any serious injury.
But the exhausted little girl slept on.
End Part 5
The Other Side of Despair Part5
The bedroom door opened quietly and Sydney tiptoed into the room. Her small sock covered feet moved soundlessly across the wooden floor.
This was her daddy's bedroom. If he caught Sydney here he would surely be angry. But the child's curiosity had gotten the better of her. The grownups in the household were all napping after the huge holiday meal they had eaten a couple of hours ago. Sydney had overheard grandma say that had even her father had drifted off on the sofa in his study.
Sydney should be sleeping too. Momma had tucked her in for an afternoon nap before retiring to her own bed for some rest herself. But Sydney hadn't really been tired. She hadn't eaten much turkey but had downed several pieces of pie smothered in whipped cream. The resulting sugar rush would keep her up for hours.
After crawling out of bed in her room, Sydney had crept next door to her mother's room. For a while, Sydney had lain quietly on top of the coverlet with her mommy and had watched her sleeping. The child loved to watch her mother, especially when her mother didn't know she was being watched. Sydney was convinced that her mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, almost like an angel.
While gazing curiously at her sleeping mother, Sydney had gotten an idea. She had tread softly down the hallway and slipped into this room to learn more about the intimidating man who was her father.
Sydney looked around inquisitively. The room was an elegant décor of tan, burgundy and brown. The furniture all seemed larger than normal to the little girl. She hauled herself up on to the king-sized bed. Lying in the middle of the bed, she stared up at the ceiling and tried to imagine her father sleeping in that exact spot. Sydney rolled onto her tummy and buried her face in the pillows. She could smell the tangy, spicy scent of aftershave clinging to the quilt.
After a few minutes on the bed, Sydney slid to the floor and moved to the dresser. As quietly as she could, the little girl slid the bottom drawer open. Rummaging among the blue jeans and sweat pants, Sydney searched for clues to her father's personality. Finding nothing but clothes, she sighed, closed the drawer and moved up to the next one. She repeated this action for as many drawers as she could reach but found nothing of interest.
Beside the dresser stood an easy chair. The little girl crawled into the chair for a few moments. Kneeling on the cushion, Sydney leaned over the arm of the chair to look at the book sitting face down on the end table. "The collected works of Mark Twain" was imprinted in gold letters on the book's leather spine.
With a shrug Sydney left the chair and padded across the room to the closet. The door squeaked slightly as it swung open, causing Sydney to freeze for several moments in anxiety. When it became apparent that no one had heard, the little girl glanced in the closet. Several pairs of shoes lined the floor. Suits, several cotton shirts and assorted jackets hung from hangars above her head.
Sydney stepped into the closet. Closing her eyes, she twirled among the combined fabrics of silk, wool and leather. With a sudden thud, her foot collided sharply with something hard, bringing bright tears to the child's eyes.
Sydney crouched down to rub at her stinging toes. Her brow furrowed as she looked up and saw the object that she had stumbled on. Tucked on the floor in a dark corner of the closet was a silver case.
The little girl was puzzled. Too small to be a suitcase, and too large to be a briefcase, the casing looked like it was made of metal. Sydney had never seen anything like it before. Grabbing the handle, she found it to be heavy but not so much so that she couldn't lift it.
She pulled the case out of the closet and sat on the floor to study it more closely. The hasps were made of button latches like the ones on mommy's suitcase. But when Sydney pressed the latch with her thumb, it wouldn't move. It was locked. She could see where a key could be used to open the case but Sydney couldn't find a key.
Sydney climbed back onto the over stuffed chair. Standing on the tips of her toes, she strained to see the top of the dresser. No key there.
Sydney heard the soft voice of her grandmother passing in the hallway. Staring wide-eyed at the door, she waited breathlessly for the sounds of movement to dwindle. When she felt it was safe again, Sydney scurried from the chair to kneel on the floor in front of the silver case.
Sydney knew that she could not stay here much longer before she was discovered. But she didn't want to abandon her treasure. The fact that the silver box was locked was a sure sign that this was important. What could she do?
Gnawing at her lower lip, the child pondered her situation. Suddenly coming to a risky decision, Sydney grabbed the handle on the case and stood up. The heavy metal bumped into her knees as she hauled the case to the door. She would take her prize to her room and hide it in her fort.
This morning, while preparations for the holiday dinner were being made, Uncle Jack had kept Sydney occupied in her room by building her a fort. Made up of blankets draped over three chairs, the small tent was held together with books and clothespins. The resulting structure had been just big enough for Jack to sit inside it cross-legged. Sydney had curled up in his lap with a flashlight while her uncle had told her silly stories.
Sydney would take the case to her room and hide it under the blankets in her fort.
Setting the case against the wall, Sydney carefully opened the door and peaked in to the hall. Once she was sure that the corridor was deserted, she lifted the case with both hands and hurried toward her own room as quickly and quietly as she could.
Late the next afternoon, Jarod stood in the kitchen rummaging through the leftovers in the refrigerator. Some of yesterday's turkey remained, wrapped in foil. But it was a slice of apple pie that Jarod was after.
Today had been a quiet day. The weather outside had turned cold and rainy making it a good day for lying around lazily. Little Sydney had spent last evening and all day today playing in her room. Parker had spent her time that afternoon with Ethan. As a result, Jarod had been able to emerge from his study without worrying about bumping into either of them.
Admittedly, hiding out in his office all weekend was a cowardly way to deal with this situation. But being in the same room with Parker and her little girl was exhausting. The warmth that radiated from the pair pulled at Jarod like a moth drawn to a flame. For the first time in years, Jarod had felt the same isolation as he had suffered when he'd first escaped from The Centre.
The emotional walls Jarod had so carefully built over the past six years were beginning to crumble. The battle to keep them up was taking its toll on him.
Jarod had watched the two of them all during the holiday meal yesterday. Miss Parker glowed with affection for her daughter and the little girl was such a lovable little sprite. Jack teased the child unmercifully until Sydney was reduced to a fit of giggling hiccups. Parker had smiled more during that one hour than Jarod had seen in the nearly three decades he had known her.
An unfamiliar feeling churned in Jarod's stomach every time Parker grinned at his brother Jack. It wasn't until little Sydney had proudly given the first piece of her pie to her Uncle Jack that Jarod began to recognize the sick sensation for what it was. Jealousy had squeezed Jarod's appetite into dust.
Jarod pulled a pie tin from one of the refrigerator shelves and sat alone at the table with a fork. Eating straight from the pie plate, he munched thoughtfully at the desert. The abrupt realization that Jack, genetically speaking, was just as much Sydney's father as he was, made Jarod feel ill. His fork clattered into the dish with abandonment.
Jarod stared morosely at his plate. Perhaps he should encourage Jack to take on that role in little Sydney's life. Jarod would provide financial support while Jack could give the girl the paternal figure she obviously desired. Jack was better suited to it anyway, Jarod thought. The younger man didn't have the bitter dark blots on his soul that Jarod endured.
With a heavy sigh Jarod closed his eyes to further contemplate this new option. An image formed in his mind. The image consisted of Parker, her little girl and Jack holding hands happily. It made for an adorable picture. Jarod opened his eyes and sighed again. It could work, he supposed. If he never came home for holidays to see the three of them together, Jarod might be able to get accustomed to the idea.
Jarod stood to put away the rest of the pie. Leaning his forehead sadly against the freezer door he mumbled to himself. "Who are you trying to kid, Wonder-boy?"
If Jarod arranged things for Jack to become an integral part of Parker's little family, how long would it be before Jack found his way in to her bed? She would always see in Jack the pretender she had grown up with. And Jack was no idiot. Parker was a remarkable woman. It never occurred to Jarod that Parker wasn't the dream girl of every man's fantasies. It never dawned on him that Jack might not be interested.
From upstairs, Jarod suddenly heard Parker's voice as she called loudly to her daughter.
"Sydney?" Parker called. "Honey? Open the door."
Jarod tilted his head and frowned as a banging sound echoed through the house.
"Sydney!" Parker called again.
Jarod stood and moved to the kitchen door where he could better hear the drama unfolding upstairs.
"Sweetheart?" Margaret called gently. "Talk to Grandma. Are you okay?"
Parker pounded heavily on the bedroom door. Her voice took on a frightened tone as she called to her daughter again. "Sydney! Please answer me!"
"Charles!" The panic that edged his mother's voice as she screamed for her husband spurred Jarod into action. He dashed down the hall and took the stairs two at a time. Jarod reached his mother's side at the same time his father did.
"What's wrong?" the Major asked.
"Sydney has locked the door and she won't answer us." Margaret cried.
Jarod pounded forcefully on the wooden panel and growled menacingly. "Open this door young lady, right now!"
"Jarod." Parker pleaded. "Don't frighten her."
Jarod grabbed the doorknob and shook it hard. By now, the hallway was filled with the rest of the family as Ethan, Jack and Syd hurried to join the group.
Margaret grabbed her husband's arm. "Get some tools." She urged him.
"Don't bother." Jarod growled waving his parents back. With a massive kick, Jarod's boot made contact with the door just to one side of the knob. Wood splintered and the lock gave way abruptly. The door flew open, banged against the wall with a crash and rebounded.
A damp chill filled the room from an open window. Sydney was nowhere to be seen and the bed was empty. Against the far wall a tent of blankets stood draped over some chairs. Taped to the front entrance of the tent was a sign, printed in large red letters.
"Keep Out! Top Secret!" the sign read.
In long angry strides, Jarod crossed the room to tower over the tent. He grabbed the blanket at the top of the structure and, in a shower of clothespins and clattering books, Jarod yanked the blanket away.
The sight that greeted him from the confines of the little tent made Jarod's heart plummet into an icy ball of lead in his stomach.
Jarod's silver DSA case sat open in the center of the small space between the chairs. Small shiny disks littered the ground around the case. A legal pad and wads of yellow paper were mingled chaotically among the disks.
Little Sydney was gone.
Margaret began to moan, a low sound in her throat. "Oh please, no. Not again." She whispered harshly. "Not again."
"Sydney!" Parker dropped to her knees to look under the bed. She then bolted to her feet and ran to the closet to search inside. "Where is she?" Parker cried.
Chaos began to erupt around Jarod as his mother began to panic. Parker hurried to the elder Sydney's side and clutched frantically at his arm. "Sydney? Where is my baby?"
Jarod stared wordlessly at the jumble at his feet. Something inside him began to tremble. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an effort to control him self. But the shaking increased until Jarod's body was shuddering uncontrollably.
His mother's voice echoed in the room. "Not again. Not again. Oh please, not again."
"I'm calling the police." Major Charles declared.
"Wait." Jarod croaked through dry lips. Moving slowly as if he was in a dream, Jarod fell to his knees in front of the ruined fort. He crawled on his hands and knees in to the center of the small area and sat in front of the DSA player.
Swallowing hard, Jarod closed his eyes and began to do something that he had not tried for more than five years. He pretended to be someone else. He pretended to be his little girl.
Parker recognized the motions Jarod was making. He was breathing deeply and performing relaxation techniques that preceded his emersion in a pretend.
Jarod opened his eyes and studied his surroundings curiously. A small piece of wire on the floor caught his attention. Jarod picked up the mangled paper clip and rolled it around in the palm of his hand.
"She used this to pick the lock on the DSA case." Jarod said.
Bending low, Jarod gazed intently at the DSA player. Running the pad of one finger along the edge of the case, Jarod found white dust sprinkled about. Touching his finger to his tongue, he discovered that the white dust was powdered sugar. On one of the chairs nearby sat a plate of gingerbread cookies. The sugar had come from the top of the cookies.
Jarod frowned for a moment in confusion. He picked up the legal pad. Written in neat block lettering, much like his own handwriting, was along list of nonsense words. Each word consisted of different combinations of the same five letters. A hasty inspection proved that the crumbled sheets contained similar lists of jumbled letters. The lists went on for pages and pages.
"My god." Jarod gasped. "She is a smart kid."
The look he shot at Parker was full of desperate shock. "She scraped the powdered sugar off of her cookies and sprinkled in over the key board to find my fingerprints. The only keys ever used are the five the make up the password. Therefore the letters on the keyboard with fingerprints on them must be the ones used in the password."
Jarod flipped through the pages on the legal pad, each jumbled word on every list had a neat line drawn through it.
"She must have spent all night methodically trying different combinations of letters." Jarod said with awe. "She locked the door so no one would find out what she was doing."
"Jarod." Major Charles said gently. "There are thousands of possible combinations for five letters."
Jarod nodded. "It looks like she got lucky. She only needed to try about fifteen hundred of them before she stumbled onto the right one."
Jarod glared angrily at the aging psychiatrist standing beside the bed. "Did you teach her this, Sydney? Did you teach her how to break into a system this way?" He growled.
"Jarod, I swear to you." Sydney said gently. "I had no idea she could do anything like this."
Jarod scooped up a handful of disks from the floor, studying them thoughtfully. From the looks of this mess, the little girl had gone through a great number of the disks. However, there were still a lot of them neatly filed in their proper holders. Something had stopped her from watching anymore.
With a strange feeling of dread, Jarod flipped the DSA viewer on and started to play the disk that had been left in the machine.
The high-pitched screaming of an adolescent boy screeched from the speakers. Jarod flinched and the rest of his small audience all jumped.
"NO!" the boy wailed miserably from the DSA. "Sydney, please! IT HURTS!"
Jarod jerked the disk out of the slot and threw it across the room. Bolting to his feet, he pulled back one foot and kicked violently at the view screen. In a satisfying shower of plexiglas and sparks, the monitor skittered across the floor and burst against the wall.
Sighing heavily, Jarod sat on one of the chairs with a thud. Burying his head in his hands, he shook his head sadly. "She wasn't taken." Jarod sighed. "She's running."
Parker glanced out the open window. Cold rain pelted through the opening and onto the floor. A shiver of fear ran down her spine as Parker realized it was getting dark.
"Are you sure?" Parker asked.
Jarod stood swiftly. "Of course I'm sure." He grumbled. "She's found out that her beloved Uncle Sydney was the head villain in a modern day torture chamber. And she knows that Mommy used to work there too." Jarod dragged his hand through his hair. "She is more than a little upset."
Parker looked anxiously out the window again. She swallowed. "How long has she been gone?"
"Long enough for the carpet to get soaked and the DSA player to automatically shut down." He answered. "From the temperature in the room I'd guess that the window has been open for at least thirty minutes."
Jarod and Parker exchanged a wordless look.
"I'll find her." Jarod said firmly as he walked toward the window.
Folding his tall frame awkwardly through the opening, Jarod slipped outside onto the porch roof. The flat surface was slick with icy rain as Jarod carefully made his way to the edge. When he looked down, he found that he was only about twelve feet from the ground. An easy jump for a man his size, the height must have been awesome for a little girl barely three feet tall.
Jarod swung to the ground then turned and examined the trellis along the side of the porch. In the summer, the wooden framework was a riot of color, filled with rose blooms. But now, the blossoms were gone and the leaves were all dead, making a convenient ladder to the ground. A bright yellow piece of fabric caught among the thorns stood out like a beacon.
Jarod's parents and Miss Parker burst out of the kitchen and onto the porch to stand beside him in the rain.
"Was she wearing yellow?" Jarod asked.
Parker nodded. "A yellow t-shirt."
Jack came from the house carrying a large water resistant jacket. He handed it to Jarod. "We'll get a search party together." He said.
"No." Jarod said as pulled on the coat. "In this rain, following her trail will hard enough without a crowd tromping all over her tracks. Give me an hour to track her. Then send out search parties."
Jack nodded then handed Jarod a second jacket. Jarod stared in surprise at the little pink coat in his hand.
Parker gasped. "She's out here with no jacket." She cried softly.
Jarod swallowed. "And I think she's barefoot." He added morosely. He stuffed the little coat against his body and zipped his jacket closed over it. "I will find her." Jarod vowed.
Parker nodded helplessly. Jarod scanned the ground carefully for a minute and then sprinted off across the grass.
To Jarod's well-trained eye, the point where the little girl had entered the woods was easily detectable. Once under the canopy of trees, the rain was less annoying but the path was gloomier and getting darker with each passing moment. Sydney's trail was easy to follow. She'd been running blindly and Jarod found more than one place where she had fallen. He realized that she was probably crying.
"Don't think." Jarod growled to himself. "Just find her." But he couldn't help himself. Years of training had taught Jarod how to see things by looking at the clues left behind. In his mind, Jarod could see Sydney running. He could see her slipping and sliding down the wet embankment, tears running down her muddy face as she sobbed.
He burst through the tree line and Jarod found himself staring at a rocky riverbed. The water was frothy with rapids.
"Oh, God." He whispered. "Please stay away from the water, please, please, please."
Jarod searched the surrounding rock covered area for signs of the girl's passing. To his left he found a muddy print on a stone. Sydney wasn't barefoot but was in only her socks. The sock print, nearly washed away now by the rain, told Jarod that the girl had slipped and fallen here. He found blood on flat rock nearby. Not much. She must have scraped her palms when she fell.
Jarod found another sliding mud print several yards down stream. He also found a discarded pair of cotton socks. Sydney had stopped to remove the slippery things from her feet. Jarod looked around him frantically as the rain began to get worse. Without the socks to leave prints, and with the rain hiding any new disturbances among the rocks, Sydney's trail was gone.
In an effort to find some clue, Jarod began making small yet ever widening circles around the spot where he'd found the girl's socks. Breathing heavily, he ran his hands through his wet hair and looked around.
"Sydney!" Jarod called.
'Where would a cold and frightened little girl go?' he asked himself.
Jarod clambered up the rocky incline toward the trees. Just before he reached the tree line, Jarod spotted a crevasse formed between two large stones. An evergreen tree had partially fallen over the stones to create a blanket of sorts over the boulders. Remembering the tent in the child's room, Jarod hurried over, pulled back the drooping branches and peered into the dark opening.
Sitting in the dark but dry little fissure was Sydney. Curled into a tight ball with her eyes pressed against her knees she was bawling her little heart out in misery.
Jarod's knees nearly gave out as his body sagged in relief. He leaned against the stone for support and allowed himself to simply revel the sight of the little girl. The knot in his stomach began to ease as he realized that he would not have to go back to Parker empty handed. With a sigh Jarod slipped in to the little cave and sat on the soft earth.
'Face it, J-man.' Jarod thought to him self. 'You'd have never gone back without her.' Jarod knew that he would have crawled through Hell and back on his knees rather than face Parker if he had been unable to find the little girl.
The space between the rocks seemed claustrophobically small to Jarod but it was a comfortable fit for a small child. The girl still wept noisily, unaware that she had company.
Jarod spoke softly, yet his voice still startled her. "You've given your mother quite a scare." He said gently.
Sydney's head popped up. Sniffling, she stared wide-eyed at her father. Her eyes were swollen and puffy from crying and tears had made dirty tracks down her face. She was wet and her hair clung damply to her head in tangled strands.
"You frightened everyone very badly." Jarod told her.
Hiccupping around her sobs, Sydney looked woefully at him. Her lower lip trembled as she spoke. "That place, The Centre, they hurt that boy." She said ignoring his comment.
Jarod glanced at her warily. "Yes." He said truthfully.
Sydney stared at Jarod intently. "Did his mommy send him there because he was bad?" She heaved.
Jarod shook his head. "No."
There had been a time in his life when he did believe that he must have done something to deserve what happened to him but the truth was that he'd been an innocent victim of greed and avarice.
"Uncle Sydney was there." The little girl's voice dropped to nearly a whisper.
"Yes." Jarod answered.
"He hurt that boy." Sydney accused. She was terribly upset by what she saw as deception from her Uncle Sydney.
"Sometimes." Jarod said. There was no point denying anything, Sydney had seen the proof.
Lips wavering, she said, "You were that boy."
With a sigh, Jarod nodded.
Sydney began to sob again, speaking between little gasps of air. "Uncle Sydney put you in that dark place and he hurt you. You had no mommy to kiss the hurt away."
Jarod stared at his daughter in wonder. She was crying for him. This little wisp of a girl was weeping over things that had happened to Jarod decades ago.
"How do you make hurt go away with no mommy to kiss it?" Sydney asked in anguish.
The girl's empathy for the little boy Jarod had once been was overwhelming. He inhaled sharply as his vision began to blur with unshed tears.
"You don't." Jarod laughed sadly. "The hurt never really goes away. It stays with you all stored up like a squirrel stores nuts for winter."
"Oh, Daddy!" Sydney cried. She threw herself across the short space that separated them and wrapped tiny arms around his neck. "I'll kiss it for you." She sobbed as she pressed her cold lips against Jarod's cheek. Again and again Sydney kissed his cheeks, his neck and his forehead.
Crying openly, Jarod held on tight while his small daughter rained him with love and kisses.
It took a couple of minutes for Jarod's mind to register the iciness of Sydney's touch. With a small gasp he pulled the girl from around his neck and quickly wrapped her in the pink coat he'd brought with him.
"I've got to get you home." Jarod declared.
He unzipped his jacket and pulled Sydney into a warm embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck once again. Jarod maneuvered his way out of the small shelter and settled Sydney on one hip before zipping his jacket closed over the little girl.
With Sydney cradled against his body, Jarod cautiously started to walk back the way he had come. Sydney laid her head on his shoulder and nuzzled against his neck.
"Daddy?" The little girl sniffled.
"Hmm?"
"My mommy can help make the hurt go away." She said innocently. "She's real good at it."
Jarod squeezed his precious bundle. "I don't think so, Kitten." He sighed. "Your mommy and I. Well, let's just say that when it comes to dishing out hurt, she and I always do a hell of a job on each other."
"Why?"
"I don't know." Jarod answered honestly. He thought about it for a few minutes then said, "Maybe we know each other too well. Maybe if someone knows who you really are deep inside, you can't help but hurt each other."
"Does Momma know who you really are?" Sydney asked.
"She used to." Jarod said. He stopped and placed small kiss on his daughter's forehead. "When we made you, she did."
As Jarod resumed his trek through the woods, he looked up and saw men on horseback in the distance. He called to them and was quickly joined by his father and Jack. Jarod swung up onto the extra horse they had brought with them. While they rode back to the ranch, the Major used a radio to call off the search and inform everyone that little Sydney was safe.
When they reined up in front of the house, Sydney was fast asleep against her father's chest. There was a great commotion upon their return. The child's grandmother wept with relief and her mother checked her over repeatedly for any serious injury.
But the exhausted little girl slept on.
End Part 5