Disclaimer: Rights to The Pretender world and all its characters belong to creators Craig Van Sickle and Steven Mitchell. NBC owns a share, as do Twentieth Century Fox and MGM.
Due South was created by Paul Haggis and produced by Alliance Atlantis, BBC, CTV television and Pro Sieben Media. It's a wonderful show, mixing action and humor together into a delightfully quirky detective drama. If you've never seen it, I highly recommend the DVDs.
The point is I'm borrowing someone else's creations. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
Defining Connection 2
By Phenyx
05/08/2006
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Jarod tossed a peanut in the air. As gravity exerted its force upon the nut, it made an arch over Jarod's head and began to fall. He easily caught the peanut in his mouth and crunched down.
"Thirty-two," Jarod said to no one in particular.
The tavern around him wasn't crowded. There were only about a dozen patrons sitting at tables or booths around the room. Jarod was alone at the bar except for the bartender, Ken. But that grizzled ex-con was at the far end washing glasses.
Jarod continued to heft nuts into the air. The exercise wasn't as easy as it looked. It had taken him several days to get the hang of it. But now that Jarod had mastered this new skill, he found that it worked just as well with any food item. Nuts, popcorn, pretzels, anything bite-sized served the same purpose.
When he got to fifty, Jarod stopped playing with the peanuts and took a small sip from his beer bottle. The beer was warm and tasted like old socks. In Jarod's opinion, all beer tasted like someone had been washing socks in it. But this wasn't the kind of place where he could drink Dr. Pepper and still fit in. So for the sake of the pretend, he always ordered a beer and nursed it for as long as possible.
Jarod spun lazily on the stool he sat upon, propping his elbows on the bar behind him to look around the room. There were more people than one would expect in a saloon at three o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon. And yet Jarod knew that there were fewer people than had been here a week ago.
The people in this room were all connected in some way to the local crime syndicate. The scandal roaring across the newspapers had these people very nervous. They were suspicious of each other, wary and paranoid. No one knew who had exposed them three days ago. Ever since the story had hit the papers, their numbers had been decreasing steadily. These were career criminals and they knew how to look out for themselves. Those that weren't running were already making deals with their lawyers.
Jarod had hung around longer than he usually did after a pretend. His reasons for doing so were two-fold. First, he didn't want anyone pinpointing him as the snitch. The last thing Jarod needed was the mob putting a contract out on his life. He had enough people chasing him, thank you. The second reason Jarod was still hanging around this place was that, at the moment, no one else was after him.
Miss Parker and her team were at some strategic planning session at Triumvirate headquarters. They'd been gone for over a week and weren't scheduled to return for at least ten more days. Jarod had always felt that if he didn't have to run, he wouldn't. With the greatest threat thousands of miles away, Jarod could afford to be idle for a time.
Besides, Jarod hadn't decided where to go next. Since Carthis, any clues leading to his mother's whereabouts had gone cold. There had been no contact with his father or the rest of his family. And to be honest, the newspapers hadn't revealed any mission that had grabbed his interest lately.
Jarod was bored. Turning back to the peanuts he tossed a few more snacks into his mouth and pondered his situation. For a moment he considered calling Miss Parker's cell phone. But he quickly discarded the idea. There was no telling what meeting she was in or which Triumvirate members she conversing with at this moment. The last thing Jarod wanted to do was add to Miss Parker's problems.
He was worried about her. The strain Miss Parker had been under these last few months was eating away at her. Jarod knew that her ulcers were bothering her again. They were becoming severe with a speed that had him very concerned. Jarod had even begun hacking into the pharmaceutical network Miss Parker used in order to monitor the frequency with which she was filling her prescriptions.
The Centre was killing her. Bit by bit the place was destroying her from the inside out. It had been doing so for years.
Jarod wanted desperately to save her, to show her the freedom that he had discovered when he ran away. He just didn't know how. While on Carthis, he'd thought he had found a way but then Raines and Mr. Parker had appeared and Jarod's plans had fallen apart. He'd left the island of Carthis defeated, without his mother and without Miss Parker.
Only days later, while talking to Miss Parker on the phone one night, had Jarod realized how deeply they had connected during their adventure. "I hope you find your mother," she had told him. Jarod had felt those words pierce his soul. The honesty and sadness in Miss Parker's voice had been reminiscent of the little girl he had known.
"Excuse me." A musical voice broke into Jarod's thoughts. "Are you Jarod Michaels?"
Jarod turned. The woman standing beside him was hauntingly beautiful. She wasn't tall or reed thin. She was of average height and round in all the right places. She had long dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders in a multitude of soft curls. Her eyes were large and green, soulful and pleading.
"Yes. I am Jarod," he replied. He smiled encouragingly.
The woman returned the smile and her face brightened. It was like looking at an angel. Jarod felt something around his heart squeeze.
"I heard that you were Markinson's new man," she said. A frown clouded her face as she spoke.
Jarod nodded in response.
"He's just been arrested," she informed him. Jarod said nothing, yet did not bother to feign surprise. "I guess you're out of a job."
"Guess so," Jarod agreed. He watched the girl closely as he noticed the scent of her perfume in the air.
"I heard that you're good," she went on. "Quick with both your wits and a gun."
Jarod's instincts began to tingle. He shrugged, relaxing against the bar in a manner that masked his sudden wariness.
"I can't pay you much up front," the woman said. "But if things go well, I can pay you afterward."
"And if they don't go well?"
Her green eyes shimmered and she blinked away a tear. "They have to go well," she said. "I have to do this." She swallowed hard. "I have to."
Jarod frowned. The woman had placed one hand on his forearm and was leaning toward him. Her eyes were wide and persuasive as she looked up into Jarod's face. She seemed so vulnerable, so desperate that Jarod felt a stab of protectiveness for her.
"Exactly what is it you need to do?" he asked.
"I have to take down a dirty cop." She took a deep breath and said, "The cop who ruined my life. He tried to kill me. He shot my fiancé in the back and took everything we had. I want to make him pay for what he did to me." She dabbed at her eyes as she fought back tears.
She licked her lips nervously. She seemed so innocent, and yet so alluring. Jarod was reminded of someone, another lovely girl who had begged him for help. Thoughts of Kristie raced through Jarod's head and he suddenly knew that he was being played. This woman was like Kristie, using Jarod as a pawn in some game.
"Does this dirty cop have a name?" Jarod said nothing about his suspicions. As with Kristie, Jarod took the girl's manipulation as a personal attack but did not react to it.
"Vecchio," the woman said. "Detective Ray Vecchio of the Chicago P.D."
Jarod nodded.
"You'll help me?" The woman's delighted smile was stunning. Jarod found himself wondering if her lips were as soft as they looked.
Jarod nodded again.
"Excellent." She reached into a delicate little purse that hung on her shoulder. Pulling out a small card she handed it to Jarod. "Meet us here in three days."
"Us?" Jarod asked as he quickly committed the printed address to memory.
"You didn't think we'd be able to do this alone did you?" she said. "I'm pulling a team together. I've got the plan all worked out. Just meet us in three days." With a sweet smile she leaned up and kissed Jarod's cheek.
"Wait," Jarod called as she began to turn away. "I don't even know your name."
The brilliant smile appeared on her face again. "My name is Victoria," she said.
A moment later, she was gone.
Jarod stared after her for several minutes as his mind began to mull over this newest problem. He would need to book a flight to O'Hare, could probably be in Chicago in just a few hours. But first he would need to hack into the Chicago Police Department's personnel database. He needed to know more about this Vecchio.
"She's got a nice ass," said a familiar voice. "Could be working it better though."
Jarod froze.
"If she's going to use her looks to jerk a guy around by the zipper, the least she could do is wear a tighter sweater." Miss Parker's tone was as hard and bitter as Jarod had ever heard. "Too many people underestimate the power of good cleavage."
Turning slowly, Jarod buried his surprise under a look of bored amusement. He smiled. "I never underestimate anything, Miss Parker." Grinning insolently, Jarod made a point of looking at Miss Parker's chest as he spoke.
"Liar." Miss Parker hissed. "Let's go, Jarod. Time to come home like a good little lab rat."
"No."
"No?" Miss Parker sputtered. "Move it before I put a cap in your ass."
Jarod smiled again, knowing that it would annoy her. His thoughts raced to find a way out of this predicament. "The people here know me, Miss Parker. They don't know you. And every single one of them is packing." He crossed his arms and leaned against the bar. "What do you suppose is going to happen if you pull a gun on me now?"
Miss Parker growled in frustration.
Something in Miss Parker's face, in her body language, made Jarod frown. "You look tired," he said, allowing true concern to color his tone.
Angry steel-blue eyes glared at him. "I'm fine," she hissed. "I'll be better when we get back to Delaware."
"But you aren't supposed to be in Delaware," Jarod pointed out. "You're supposed to be at the Triumvirate compound."
Miss Parker sighed and rubbed at her forehead. She didn't bother to ask him how he knew where she was supposed to be. "I needed to get away for a while," she admitted.
With that whispered confession, Jarod saw Miss Parker's hard Centre exterior crack. He saw his chance and he jumped at it. "You can't keep this up," he said. Jarod took one step forward, entering her personal space. With one hand, he reached toward her but stopped just shy of actually touching her.
"It's none of your business, Rat. I am none of your business."
Jarod shook his head sadly. "I disagree."
"You would." Miss Parker suddenly took a deep breath, closed her eyes and sighed.
"Your stomach is bothering you," Jarod told her. "When is the last time you ate something?"
Miss Parker's eyes flashed open to glare at him. "Do you want me to puke on your shoes?"
"You've got nothing in your stomach but acid," Jarod scolded. "And probably an alcoholic beverage or two. You need some real food to cut down on the acid."
"Like you care," she snapped.
"You know that I do." Jarod's voice was warm and soft. He could see the battle of emotions in Miss Parker's eyes. He stood quietly before her and waited. He silently prayed to every deity he'd ever read about, prayed that Miss Parker would give in to him just a little bit. Her life depended on it.
"Jarod…"
Jarod could hear the uncertainty in Miss Parker's voice and it frightened him. The lost, defeated look on her face was totally contrary to the strong determination he'd grown accustomed to over the last several years. He had to do something. He had to help her, before it was too late.
An idea began to take shape in Jarod's mind, a crazy, dangerous idea that could easily blow up in his face. But his gut was telling him to do it, trust Miss Parker as he had in the past. They had worked well as a team before. Jarod saw no reason why they could not do so again.
He smiled. "Come on, Miss Parker," he said in his most sultry, taunting tone. "Let me buy you dinner before you cart me back to the Centre to throw me in the pit."
The blue eyes that haunted Jarod dreams gazed up at him inquisitively. Miss Parker knew he was up to something. But she also knew that Jarod would never harm her. Embarrass and infuriate her yes, but he would never hurt her.
Her curiosity finally got the best of her. She nodded once. "Why not?" she said. "If I'm going to be rebellious, I may as well do it right."
Jarod grinned. He felt like he'd just won the jackpot. Turning quickly, Jarod placed one hand at the small of Miss Parker's back and steered her out of the bar. Speed was of the essence at this point. He had to keeping things moving fast so she wouldn't have a chance to change her mind.
Nor would he.
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End Part 2