Title: Towers Author: Maestra

Epilogue

He was grateful that no one else had felt like swimming this late in the hotel pool. He swam laps stretching his tired body to the limits in the water, trying to use physical exertion to tire his mind.

He wasn't having much success at that though, despite the slight ache in his arms and shoulders. It reminded him of one of his first pretends back in California, at the YMCA. He had learned how to swim there, and it was something he still enjoyed.

Suddenly he stopped in the middle of the deep end, rolled over on his back and floated quietly allowing his arms and legs to drift weightlessly and the water to fill his outer ears.

Something about the water soothed him. Perhaps it was the weightlessness, the way it cradled and suspended his body as he floated, barely moving except for his breath. Maybe it was the way it reminded him of the sensory deprivation tanks he had been in. But he could forget the fact he was in a public hotel in Chicago and just concentrate on the lapping of the water against his skin, and the sound of his own heartbeat. He tried to concentrate on slowing his heartbeat and breathing. but his mind kept going back to the past week in New York City. He might be half a continent away.but his mind was pre-occupied with the east coast. It was no use..

Jarod pulled himself out of the swimming pool and padded on bare feet to the chaise lounge where he had left his towel and robe provided by the hotel. He partially dried his hair and then his body before slipping the thick white robe on and his feet into matching slippers before heading off to his room.

He took the electronic key out of his pocket and slipped it into the lock. He entered the room and after a quick shower to wash the chlorine from his hair and body he sat down at his computer. With surprise he saw he had received an email from Tara. It included the picture they had asked a stranger to take of them together in Central Park and the one he had taken of Tara trailing her fingers in the pool at Bethesda Terrace. He smiled at the message so short but sweet..

My dear brother of the heart, Even though we're separated, we're not really apart. For wherever we go, We carry each other in our hearts. Tara

He was delighted she had remembered to upload and send some of the pictures they had taken of each other yesterday. Was it only 24 hours? It seemed like much longer. With a weary sigh, he went over to the bed and shedding the robe once more he laid down and in moments fell asleep.

Just a short 3 hours later Jarod awoke. The glow from his laptop computer, which he had forgotten to turn off, the only light in the dark hotel room. A quick glance at the clock radio on his nightstand indicated that it was 1:00 in the morning. And the bored Pretender despite tossing and turning a few times could not relax enough to go back to sleep. He got up and fired off a quick e-mail in reply to Tara, and then one to his family to let them know he had moved on.

The dresser of the room was covered with the Chicago Sun Times and the Chicago Tribune and a pair of scissors lay on the red notebook there as well. He flipped through the paper looking for an article which would inspire his next pretend. What should he be now? The papers were still full of details learned since 9-11 and the anthrax sent through the mail; somehow he just couldn't take that on at the moment. The trauma of the past week in New York City still to fresh in his mind. His thoughts returned to his conversations with Tara, especially the one they had on the way to the train station and the fortune cookie that he'd received. "There is an old friend who misses you. Call." And Tara's whispered reply to what he had read out loud.

"Parker."

He decided to take Tara's advice. Picking up his cell phone he dialed the number he knew by heart.

A moment later Parker's telephone rang. She reached out sleepily and knocked the handset from the cradle, grabbed it from the night table surface and hit the talk button.

"What," she growled her annoyance into the phone.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Jarod apologized but she could hear the smile in his low voice.

"Ah, Jarod, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She replied sarcastically ignoring his question.

"Oh, I was just wondering how you and Mr. Banks got along on the flight home."

"Just peachy," she drawled remembering the difficulty she had trying to change seats before they boarded the flight home so she could arrange to sit next to Jarod Banks. She was confident it was her elusive pretender at last. She had caught him. 'The smart ones always make a mistake eventually' she thought, 'and I am here at the right time to see it.' The stewardess had looked at Miss Parker like she was nuts when she asked to be seated next to Mr. Jarod Banks but with a little finagling she managed to arrange it for the demanding customer. Sydney and Broots had boarded early, leaving Miss Parker trying to downgrade her seating assignment.

At last Parker had stalked up the aisle to her seat assignment, seeing a dark head of hair in the seat of Jarod Banks a slow smile spread across her face. His face was turned away from her, and he was looking out what would be her window.

"Jarod, are you giving up the game at last? You've been a naughty boy, I am going to have to." she threatened as she firmly clasped Jarod's shoulder. Only when the man's face turned to look at her, bright green eyes met her own. It wasn't the Pretender. The young man was at least 10 years Jarod's junior, but to her credit there was at least a distinct resemblance. Parker had apologized profusely but the young man thought it was totally hilarious that she had mistaken him for someone else with the same name. And the young man immediately started flirting with her outrageously. She didn't know if she had ever suffered through such an unbearably long flight.

"Parker?"

When Jarod called her name she returned her attention to his question. "Well I made a fool out of myself in front of him. Are you happy? He asked me out at least 10 times on the flight between New York City and Dover," was her rueful reply.

Jarod laughed heartily as she explained how the young man had early pursued her and only the iciest and firmest of Parker's set downs had persuaded him to move on to someone else. Parker had actually breathed a sigh of relief when he turned his attention to the pretty redheaded stewardess just before they landed.

"Guess he likes older women," was Jarod's amused reply. "I actually feel sorry for the guy."

"How did you know though? You arranged for him to be on the flight?"

"No," Jarod sighed, "I 'm afraid Parker, it was just one of those strange quirks of fate. I was booked on the same airline that night. albeit not to Dover. I did happen to hack their database that night though and notice it. Truthfully, I wish I could have planned it. I'd have loved to see the look on your face when he turned around."

"And the purpose of your call was just to gloat that you have once again managed to get away?" Parker asked irritated with his good humor over her embarrassment.

"No," was Jarod's sincere reply. "Why do you always try to turn our every conversation into a confrontation?" Jarod snapped frustrated, "Can't I just once call and say hello to an old friend?"

"Let's get this straight," Parker sat up in the bed and purposefully spoke in her coldest tone, "You just called to say hello? Right, like I believe that. You're always after something Jarod. I am not sure what it is, but I will figure it out eventually."

"Well then, let me spell it out for you Parker," he quipped, "I remember my friend, the one who gave me my first kiss. The one who brought Timmy Cracker Jacks, and gave Faith her rosary to comfort her while she lay dying. And Parker, I know that little girl is still in there somewhere. You can throw me all the icy looks and deny it all you want. But the truth is, I miss my friend."

Parker sighed heavily, "Dream on Jarod, the Centre killed every trace of that little girl years ago. What you see now is all there is."

Jarod shook his head sadly, "I don't think so Parker. I know she has been hurt. But I have faith that she is still in there, somewhere." And with that he disconnected.

"Do you always have to have the last word lab-rat?" She whispered sadly. Parker sat alone in the pre-dawn darkness of her bedroom, her phone clasped to her chest and a single tear slipped its bonds and traveled slowly down her cheek.

The End

Author's Note: Finally it is at an end, it took over a year to get this one all wrapped up! Thanks to everyone for all their patience and support!