Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 for the usual statements

Author's Note: I apologize for the lateness of this chapter's submittal. I've had so much going on that the spare time I used for writing has been consumed by other things. For those of you still reading this story, I hope you are enjoying still.

Time to Consider
Chapter 26
By Callisto

The Centre
Blue Cove, DE

Broots glanced from Jarod's disappearing form over to Angelo and then back to Sydney. His Adam's apple bobbed in time to his nervous swallowing. "Was that who I thought it was?"

Angelo quietly left the office and approached the cart. Sydney stared as the drop cloth that was draped over the specimen cart, slowly stilled. "This is incredible. Every time I see him, I'm struck by how much like Jarod he truly is. What concerns me is his insistence that he is Jarod. It's true that he does seem to know certain things about Jarod. That's troubling as well, since it would indicate a deep-seated neurosis. Something extremely traumatic must've occurred for him to first be here at the Centre of all places, and then to start making these claims. Whatever it is, Broots, I have to help him. It's the least I can do for Jarod."

"I guess I understand. Just be careful, Sydney. Mr. Lyle and Mr. Cox have this place locked down tighter than a cash drawer at WalMart, probably because of all those shady projects they've started. Have you seen some of the weird people they've brought in? I mean they're weird even by Centre standards." Sydney's distracted air told Broots that his friend was preoccupied with the mystery of Jarod's clone showing up unexpectedly. He would've liked to find out how Gemini pulled it off getting inside but knew there was little time to spare to get the kid out of harm's way. "If there's anything else I can do to help, you only have to ask. Oh and Sydney? Please keep me in the loop about Miss Parker. I've been worried about her since she disappeared. Just let me know if she's okay."

"Of course, Broots," Sydney replied. He had been keeping a surreptitious eye on the red activation light on his office camera. It winked on just as Broots finished talking and Angelo reentered the office holding something behind his back. "I think I can do better than that. Why don't you come by my place for a quick lunch? I'm sure I can do better the Centre's commissary." The commissary chef had been lured away from a 5-star restaurant in Newport.

"Really? Hey, after a claim like that, you're on," he responded. Broots glanced over at Angelo who stayed near the door and decided it was time to make his exit. "I better get back. There's a pile of work my desk and I'm sure the new help desk clerk shuffled a few more projects my way while I wasn't looking." With that, Broots practically scurried away towards his office, giving the specimen cart a wide berth.

Sydney was shaking his head in disbelief, still trying to wrap his sharp mind around what the boy had said when he spotted Crowley wheeling the cart away. He never got the chance to remove one of the samples as a distraction to the lab assistant and was about to call out when Angelo, out of view of the camera, revealed what was behind his back. In his hand was a shrink wrapped bloodied appendage that he had stolen from the cart. Again, Sydney smiled appreciatively at Angelo and took his seat, beckoning Angelo to do the same. In another 15 minutes, he would get up and follow Crowley, then begin the odyssey of getting to the bottom of this present mystery.

Parker Family Residence
Outside Blue Cove, DE

Consciousness came to her slowly but the world just outside of her eyelids was spinning crazily. It took some minutes of deep, even breathing before her equilibrium returned and the spinning stopped. Still caution was called for because her stomach was sending unpleasant nausea vibes to her brain. Though the sensation wasn't new, it had become a rarity since the combining elimated the ulser her older self had developed. As much as her supine position allowed, she took in her immediate surroundings enough to determine that the room was quiet, dusty and dark. Grim determination spurred her to action as she slowly moved into a seated position. She had been lying on a hard bed as though someone had tossed her carelessly on it as an afterthought. Her skin felt as dusty as the rest of the unused room. Dust cloths shrouded every piece of furniture that had the misfortune to have been forgotten in this room. The walls had been stripped bare but decorated with the discolored outlines of long removed pictures. Nothing of a personal nature had been left behind to gather dust. Still the room held a quiet familiarity to it that she couldn't quite place. Gingerly rising to her feet, she endeavored to gain her bearings when her most recent memories began promptly replaying. She and Jarod had been talking to Ethan on the radio when a loud noise began to drown out his voice, then nothing.

Out of long habit, she stepped over to the windows and pulled aside the heavy generic drapes. What greeted her was another familiar view. The lush side yard suffered from obvious neglect but the neighbor's house in the far distance could still be seen through the thick screen of trees. Turning around she began to move towards the closet before it hit her, she was in her old room in her Uncle's house. A small smile touched her lips as she realized where in her mind and heart she had placed that emotional black hole of a man. No matter what she did or how much she conformed to his wishes, he seemed impervious to her efforts, incapable of sustaining any warm feelings towards her that weren't simultaneously trampled on by his habitual neglect, strangling demands for her trust or casual dismissals. This felt strange because now for the first time in her life, he was separate from her. His approval and love meant little to her. Somewhere down the line, she had accepted Ben as her true father completely and unhesitatingly. The combining could be the only answer. Her adult self needed parental approval which the child self received and accepted in copious amounts from her doting father. Catherine was in a category by herself, having the most effect on the adult version of Parker. A year spent having constant contact with her mother, who at times was demanding, maintained unusually high expectations and lavished her every day with an affection that was given genuinely and freely without any desire for a quid pro quo, had done more to repair and reshape Parker's emotional psyche than even she could imagine. Though there were still some hefty puddles of shame, angst and remorse left over from her past, Parker felt more together than ever before.

The Past--this stripped down room and shrouded furniture could mean only one thing: she was back in her original timeframe. Mr. Parker's arrogance would've prevented him doing this to her room if he had even the scant chance of successfully kidnapping her again. He would want her quiet and comfortable. Willing to do what he wanted as he slowly upped the ante on her soul. The voices in her mind were unusually quiet. Perhaps, the switch between variant timelines affected them as well. The voices in the other timeframe kept chattering on about protecting their ages. That instability would force a return. She got the gist of what they were referring to and thus practically strong-armed Jarod into inoculating them.

Whatever the case, she felt almost naked without the voices chanting in her mind. The how and why she ended up back in her original present was one thing that puzzled her. Jarod's current whereabouts were the other. Warnings from the voices in her mind in the past spurred her into making certain preparations just for this eventuality. Their inoculation and letter to her mother were the best she could do without making herself look like a total nutjob.

Pushing aside these thoughts, Parker grasped the doorknob and found it turned effortlessly in her hand. She eased the door open and listened for any telltale signs of habitation from other parts of the mini-mansion. All was quiet as she slipped out of her room; carefully pulling the door closed behind her, she made her way down the back stairway to the main floor. Her childhood memories of the house came flooding eagerly back to the surface. Apparently the onslaught of memories from the other time frame did nothing to impede her memories of her original. Without ease, she navigated unhesitatingly through the house. Most of her memories were none of the carefree, happy times that her other self was able to recall. Here, there was nothing but loneliness and isolation. In the kitchen, she opened the fridge and was surprised to find that not only was it still working but well stocked with food. Leaning forward, she poked around a bit but found nothing of any interest to her stomach. Then looking around she found a bunch of bananas on the large center island and helped herself. Wandering into the living room, she headed straight for her old hidey hole, where her precious childhood icons from her time with her mother had been secreted away from her father. It was a spot he had never discovered and after her intensive training from the Centre and moving out of the house, she left most of those painful reminders behind and hopefully undisturbed. There nestled behind a cleverly concealed cutout of the base molding was the dusty leather box containing numerous photos and mementos she rescued from the dumpster where her uncle/father had consigned them. She settled down on the floor and began looking through the box of old photographs and became so preoccupied that more than an hour slipped by without her noticing. Still immersed in her find and surprised that so much had been hidden, the sound of footsteps coming lightly down the stairs went unnoticed. Fortunately, a couch hid her from casual view as the footsteps wandered further into the room. It was the sound of loud bump and even louder expletive that attracted her attention and alerted Parker that she wasn't alone in the house. As quietly as possible, Parker put down the precious photographs and listened intently. A male voice mumbled unintelligibly as the person retreated towards the den. Sounds of shuffling papers along with drawers opening and closing were all that she could hear. Flattening herself on the floor, she was obliged to gather her waist-length hair with one hand to guide it away from her face and out of the way. Why she let Jarod talk her into letting it grow out always baffled her, though she had to admit that she loved the feel of his strong hands on her scalp as he washed it. A shake of her head prevented her from allowing some inconvenient emotions from taking over. Her former quarry had managed to become, within the past year, her emotional center and inspired in her a horniness that remained steadfastly just beneath the surface—though she prided herself in being able to keep it under steely control. With cautious patience, Parker looked around the couch and saw him seated at the desk rummaging through some paperwork. The sight of the home's new resident made her eyes widen in alarm. Drawing back behind the couch, she quietly returned the photos to their box and set them on the seat cushions. Next, Parker decided to put some distance between herself and her demented twin. It figured the psycho genetics forced her to call brother wouldn't wait long before laying claim to what his relatives had left behind. The last thing she wanted was to be caught by him in his new house. Slowly backing up, she worked her way to the other side of the room when her foot connected with the outer edge of the same table he had run into causing the decorative lamp on top to wobble dangerously. Parker deftly caught the lamp before it could fall but the damage was done. The noise she created in knocking against the table caught Lyle's attention. With remarkable speed, she raced the rest of the way across the room and up the stairs taking them two at a time. By the time Lyle came out of the den to investigate the source of the noise, the room was empty but the sounds of rushing footsteps made him whirl towards the stairs in time to see a figure disappearing from view.

Puzzlement wrinkled his brow for only a few seconds while he retrieved his 9mm and proceeded up the stairs wondering how the intruder got in and how exactly he meant to get out. The game of cat and mouse was on and 30 minutes later, the mouse had proven to be wily beyond his wildest expectations. So far, all Lyle could determine of his prey was that it was female with extremely quick reflexes and possessing a sharp mind with nerves of steel. The game had been going on, non-stop as the girl ran from one part of the large home to the other, using back stairs and a confusing combination of connecting rooms to elude capture. Instead of growing weary with thwarted frustration, Lyle was exhilarated by the chase. He was hoping the girl would turn out to be Asian; already her long dark hair was making his blood pulsate in anticipation. After all this effort, he meant to take his time enjoying the fruits of his labor. Though pleasure spurred him on, business was never far behind. He needed to find out how she got in without triggering the state-of-the-art alarm but also why she seemed so familiar with the house's layout. It was a familiarity that reached beyond studying blueprints because her timing was so perfect and her movements throughout the house—too certain.

Where Lyle was exhilarated by the chase, Parker was tired of it. At this rate she could keep a few steps ahead of him forever. It was then that it dawned on her—Lyle was enjoying this game and he meant for her to keep it up for a while longer while his sick, sexual excitement continued to build to a fevered pitch. She needed out but she also needed Lyle out of commission. It was then that her inner sense decided to kick in with some much needed information. 'Help was on the way.' Darting past Lyle, she headed for the back stairs and quickly disappeared into the butler's quarters. Not pausing for a second, Parker then opened the dumbwaiter, folded her slim and dancer-flexible frame inside and began maneuvering the contraption downwards—trying to make as little noise as possible. She had just about made it to her goal when the door to the dumbwaiter opened above. "Damn!" was all she heard as she urged the pulley on faster. The downward motion stopped abruptly just as she tried to open the doors on the ground level, Lyle grabbed hold of the thick cable and tried to reverse the motion. She was so close to the doors when Lyle jerked on the cable, successfully inching the small box upwards. Out of desperation, Parker shoved open the cabinet doors and with only a few inches to spare, dove out of the small space before Lyle could trap her.

Ferrer Villa – Past
Mar de Azul, Portugal

The long ride to the villa was oppressively silent. After hours of searching the tiny apartment and questioning the neighbors, both Catherine and the major returned to the villa empty handed, with more questions than answers and worry niggling in the forefront of their minds. They brought Ben up to date with what they had discovered. In a worried rush, he hurried to the phone and tried his daughter's apartment once again. He had talked to her only last night and couldn't imagine how she could just go missing. When he got no answer, he turned his concerned gaze on his wife as though expecting her to make it all right.

The voices in Catherine's mind were muted but what few messages she received while at the apartment confirmed Ethan's tearfully obvious conclusion—Mari was gone. Very gone. Where, Catherine had no idea and the complete absence of her daughter's presence in her mind sent a fear though Catherine's soul that she didn't dare try to express. Confusion suffused her features as she returned her husband's gaze. Tears of loss began for form in her eyes when Catherine quickly turned and retreated to their bedroom.

The major watched the interaction between the couple and wisely kept out of it. Their worry and concern were legitimate and something he shared with them. His first instinctive reaction would've been to angrily blame Catherine that is if he hadn't spoken to Jarod himself only last night. Nothing in his son's voice indicated any worry or troubles. Jarod's disappearance was as much a mystery to him as it was to Ben and Catherine. How they were going to find their children was beyond him but it would be something he would keep at until he found them. He was concerned but their disappearance was still fresh enough that true alarm had yet to register in his heart. With a sense of commonality, the major stood next to Ben and turning stated without any doubt, "We'll find them."

Ben turned to Jarod's father and with his own brand of determination, stated with equal certainty, "Yes we will and if my brother has anything to do with this, it will be the last thing he'll ever do."

The next morning, Catherine slowly got out of bed. She tried her hardest to conceal her deep-seated worry over Mari's disappearance from Ben. Both he and Trevor Abernathy were more angry than concerned. It was the voices, her enhanced abilities and the unsolicited confirmation from Ethan that made Catherine practically collapse in grief. She wanted to spare Ben at least a couple more days of the heart-rending worry she was going through. The absence of Mari from her mind suggested she was dead but the voices kept chanting that she was alive in time—whatever that was supposed to mean.

Once her husband got out of bed, telling her that he had planned on returning to Mari's apartment with Trevor, Catherine waited another hour before rising. It was as if all the energy in her body and spirit had been siphoned off leaving her weak and unable to think clearly. Her baby was gone and there wasn't anything she could do about it, except wait and hope that somehow, somewhere Mari and Jarod were alive and well. Disheveled, with a face swollen from shed and unshed tears, Catherine managed to shrug into some jeans and a sweatshirt. The only plans she could come up with for the day was to sit by the phone waiting to hear the worst. Just as fresh tears began to flow at this thought, a tentative knock came from the open bedroom door. Catherine raised her hand weakly, trying to get whoever was there to leave her in peace.

"Dona Ferrer, I've heard that something has happened. Does it have anything to do with Maritza?" inquired Ana as gently as possible. She had seen her mistress out of sorts before mostly because of incidents that had come up with the children—Ethan contracting spinal meningitis, Mari's broken arm and such. But never anything that seemed to hit her this hard. Normally, Ana would've left Catherine in peace for a while before trying to offer assistance—but she did have her orders this time.

When no answer came, Ana intrepidly walked further into the room and cautiously approached her employer. "Dona Ferrer, please tell me what has happened to make you so sad. You know I would do anything to help you."

Forcibly regaining control over her emotions, Catherine straightened up and faced her housekeeper, tears still on her face. "Maritza has gone missing. We don't know where she is or when either she or Jarod will be returning. They knew we were coming to visit yesterday but no one has seen them since. My heart tells me that something terrible has happened to my little girl and I don't know what I can do to help her."

Ana was shaken but curiously not too surprised. The housekeeper nodded sympathetically then waited until Catherine regained control of herself. As regally as Catherine usually held herself, now she seemed so lost, confused and hurt. Ana stepped closer and enveloped the woman in a warm embrace as Catherine began to lose all control and began weeping openly.

"Shhhh, it'll be okay, Dona. Have faith that no true harm has come to your Maritza. She's a good girl, very smart and mature for her age. If she's lost, she'll find her way back," Ana comforted, giving her own opinion and repeating in part what she had been told months earlier. But Catherine continued to cry, though after a short time, her tears began to abate again.

Pulling gently away from the other woman, Ana retrieved a thick, legal sized envelope that was protruding from her back waistband. "Dona, Mari gave this to me with instructions that should anything strange happen to her or if she went missing to give this to you. Please read this."

Swiping nervously at the tears on her face, Catherine took the proffered envelope and looked curiously at her housekeeper. "When did she give you this?"

Ana gave her a small smile and answered, "Over two months ago. She said not to tell anyone and if she should disappear, like in thin air, as she put it, to give this to you." Ana then rose, promising a pot of strong coffee, and left Catherine alone to read her letter.