A/N: On 2-3-07, this story will celebrate its 3rd anniversary and it's still not complete. For the record, I never intended this piece to get quite so long or complex, however it seems my muse had a different idea. I still have a few (?) Chapters to write before it's over. I will do my best to post them as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, my muse gets bored easily - which is why I seldom finish one story before moving on to another - and RL must always take precedence. Not sure who wrote that rule, but I'm sure it's out there in the universe somewhere ;-)

Anyway, thank you to everyone who has been patient enough to continue reading and reviewing. You are the only reason I haven't completely given up on "Guilty" (not to mention "Retribution" or "One Step Back"). I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer in part 1

Guilty
by imagine

Part 26/?

He shot one last look at the house before sliding into the driver's seat and twisting the ignition key. The motor was cold and its normal hum was infected by a high-pitched whine. Pressing on the pedal to his right, he forced more gas into the line then slid from the car, letting it heat up as he moved toward the rear.

As he approached, she slipped her fingers under the rim of the lid and pushed it open, blocking her from view for only a second. The moment he was standing beside her, he took the bags she held and carefully arranged them in the empty compartment without a word. Despite the thoughts that were running through his mind, he could find nothing comforting to share.

When he felt the weight of her stare, he looked at her and forced a reassuring smile. The woman took a deep breath, nodded, but said nothing as she moved to the front of the car. Frowning, he looked at the two backpacks then at the laptop that were loaded into the trunk before slamming the lid closed. Even if those few items became the only possessions in the world, they would survive. He didn't need any of it, as long as she was safe.

Things were not supposed to go this way, he thought as he moved toward the front of the car. I was supposed to have had more control.

"I'm sorry," he murmured as he slid into the driver's seat. "I should have told you about . . ."

"Yes, you should have but, honestly, it wouldn't have mattered," she interrupted, offering him the same reassuring smile he had offered her moments before. "You did the only thing you could have done. I would not have tried to change your decision."

"I thought I was protecting you."

"I know." Her hand slid over his as it rested in his lap. "You were. You did."

His fingers automatically slipped through hers but he shook his head and averted his eyes. Looking through the still icy windshield, he stared at the falling snow. "If I had, we wouldn't be doing this, now."

"You don't know that," she reprimanded. "I honestly cannot tell you that if I had known I would have done anything different. I would have still tried to help him."

He laughed softly and, after a moment, looked at her. "So, this is really all your fault."

Sitting back in her seat, she raised an eyebrow and stared at him. Though the smile was barely tugging at her lips, it was evident in her eyes and her voice took on a firm but playful tone. "After all the years we've been together, Mike, you should know that it is never my fault."

Without sliding his arm from where it was draped around his mother's shoulders, Jarod twisted in the seat to look out the back window. When the headlights came to life and the car began idling toward the Suburban, he nodded to himself and turned forward. As he did, he heard the engine start and felt the vehicle pitch slightly as Miss Parker drew the gearshift into drive.

"Keep it at - or below - the speed limit, Parker," he warned genially. "We don't want to lose them."

She locked eyes with him through the rear view mirror but said nothing.

Sitting back in his seat, Jarod shot the woman a grin but kept his tone serious as he added, "Nor do we want to attract the attention of any more members of the local law enforcement."

In response, Miss Parker narrowed her eyes then shifted her attention to the road. As she released the brake, and the vehicle slowly rolled away from the curb, Jarod glanced over his shoulder and watched as the car behind them did the same.

"Why didn't you just tell them to drive with us?"

"They need time alone," he replied, looking at his mother. "Running from the Centre has become second nature for us. It's new to them. They need time to adjust."

She hesitated before asking, "Exactly how long to expect this road trip to take?"

Jarod saw the twinkle in his mother's eye before he heard the humor in her voice. The first made him relax, the second made him smile broadly and squeeze her shoulder. "They will be all right, Mom. We will all be."

Unaware that the woman beside him was watching his reaction to the mother and son in the backseat, Sydney let his eyes linger a little too long on the Pretender. When Jarod pressed his lips to the top of Margaret's head and sighed contentedly, the psychiatrist drew his gaze forward. Miss Parker glanced at the man, then at the reflection in the mirror. For the first time in hours, Jarod seemed happy and she knew it was because his mother was, once again, in his arms.

Though she did not want to take away Jarod's joy, she suddenly felt a fierce loyalty to Sydney and an urge to protect the older man's feelings. After all, regardless of the circumstances that had brought them together, the man she referred to as 'Freud' had done a damned good job of protecting Jarod over the years. He did not deserve to be discarded as easily as an old sweatshirt, now that Jarod had been reunited with his blood relations.

"So, Jarod," she barked, glaring at the man in the mirror until he met her gaze, "what happened between you and Mike? Why are we suddenly including him and Emma in our little traveling show?"

The brightness in the dark eyes that looked back at her seemed to fade as soon as her question was voiced. The tension in his neck and jaw returned and, though his arm was still arranged protectively around his mother, Miss Parker saw Jarod wince.

"Well?"

His expression hardened at her soft demand. "A little over a year ago, Mike began investigating the Centre and its connection to both domestic and foreign governments."

She waited, expecting him to continue after a few seconds. When he was silent, Miss Parker shot him a quick, impatient glance. "And?"

"And he discovered things he shouldn't know."

"I'm in no mood for twenty questions, Jarod," she warned, when he paused to collect his thoughts. "What did he turn up?"

"Information about the Pretender Project, for one."

The silence was as thick as it was sudden. As the words sunk in, Sydney shifted in his seat so that he could face Jarod. "What, exactly, does he know?"

"I'm not sure," the Pretender admitted. "We didn't have time to discuss it at length but he definitely has the basic concept."

Margaret gripped her son's hand. "Does he know that you are . . .?"

Jarod sighed. "I think he suspects."

"How is that possible?" she demanded. "How could he . . .?"

"Mike is very good at what he does," he replied simply. "He was investigating a report about the consultants who work for the governments and stumbled upon the Centre's name. The more he tried to get information about them, the more roadblocks he encountered, the more determined he became."

"You must have misunderstood," Miss Parker insisted. "The Centre security system is unrivaled. There is no way he could have . . ."

"It seems that Emma's husband is a very resourceful man. So resourceful that he began to receive threats on his life from some very high-ranking officials - as well as some anonymous sources."

When each of his companions averted their eyes, Jarod recognized their need to digest his words and decided to honor the silence.

Miss Parker's hands tightened around the steering wheel. Though the mirror only gave him a view of her crystalline eyes, he knew that the woman was chewing on her lower lip. It was a habit she had formed as a child, a tell that betrayed the fact she was in deep concentration.

His eyes slid from Miss Parker to Sydney. Though his mentor was turned toward the back seat, his head was lowered and his right hand was thoughtfully stroking the side of his face. Again, Jarod did not need a full view of the man's face to know that deep lines of worry had spread across his forehead.

When he felt movement beside him, Jarod dropped his gaze to his mother. Leaning forward, she slowly slid her fingers through her hair, and allowed a soft sigh tp escape her lips. Instinctively, he gently laid his hand on her back, hoping to offer her comfort but, when her hazel eyes looked at him, over her shoulder, Jarod felt his heart drop. Neither her movements or her expression meant anything to him; he saw nothing he could categorize as concern, worry or, for that matter, indifference. Unlike Miss Parker and Sydney, he did not have enough experience interpreting his mother's reactions.. Though he knew she understood the gravity of what he had told them, he had no idea what she was thinking, or feeling.

"You said, for one," Miss Parker murmured, drawing Jarod's thoughts away from the woman beside him.

"He knows about the Gemini Project, too."

"Gemini?" Margaret repeated, looking between her son and the brunette. "What is the Gemini Project?"

Who was on the phone?"

"Lyle."

His eyes widened briefly, at the sound of the name, then immediately narrowed suspiciously. "What did he want?"

"It seems the Chairman's son, and his men, have been taken in for questioning," the man smiled. Sliding into his dark wool coat, he retrieved a pen from the inside pocket and moved to the desk at the far end of the room.

"Where are you going?"

"I will be back in about an hour," he replied as pulled out a pad of legal paper and ripped the corner from the top page. Quickly writing across the remnant, he handed it to the man. "In the meantime, I need you to send Victor and Jenna to this address. Lyle claims that Jarod and his mother were both at the scene. I want the placed searched thoroughly and interviews done with anyone who might have seen them leave, Alex. Is that understood?"

Glancing at the scribbled address, Alex scowled at the other man. "I repeat - where are you going?"

"To bail Lyle out."

"And then what?"

Continuing on to the porch, he took the steps in rapid succession as he replied over his shoulder, "We bring him up to speed, of course."

"You're kidding, right?"

Mr. Cox stopped at the door to his vehicle and turned to face the other man. Bathed in nothing but moonlight, his pasty skin had an strange glow but Alex refused to be intimidated. With his arms crossed over his chest, he held the eerie gaze, silently demanding an answer.

"For the record, Alex," the man finally replied, "I do not like to be questioned and I never kid."

"I have another son?" she whispered.

Jarod took a deep breath and nodded. Still unsure of what her reaction meant, he smiled haltingly and added, "His name is Drew. He is waiting for us at the safe house."

Her eyes widened as they found his. "What?"

Though her words were still barely a whisper, Jarod heard her disbelief and, for the first time, he was certain he saw confusion in her eyes. It was the first real emotion he had been able to identify since leaving Mike and Emma's house and, though he felt guilty about it, Jarod was relieved.

"Drew is waiting to meet you," he promised with a secure smile. "He is very anxious."

"I . . . I don't understand. How . . .? You left him alone? There are Centre operatives everywhere and you left him alone?"

This time, he heard her concern for the boy and Jarod through a quick glance toward Miss Parker. Seeing the brunette's release a heavy breath, he smiled inwardly, knowing he had not been the only one who had picked up on his mother's fear.

"Jarod, answer me." Sliding her hand to his face, she brought the dark eyes back to her and asked, "How could you have left him alone? You should never have come after me if . . ."

"He is not alone, Mom," Jarod assured her, taking both of the woman's hands in his. "Drew is safe. He's with Dad and Emily."

Once again, her eyes widened at his words. Abruptly pulling herself from his grip, she ordered, "Stop the car."

"What?"

"Stop the car, Miss Parker. Now."

She looked at the Pretender then at the woman making the demands, her features hardening when they met the lighter eyes. "Like hell I will. We are only about ten minutes from . . ."

Ignoring the brunettes's protests, Margaret faced her son. "Jarod, tell her to stop. He is a reporter. We can't lead him to the others. I know you trust him, Jarod, but, you said yourself, Mike and Emma have never been on the run from the Centre."

Jarod shook his head, his eyes searching his mother's for some kind of explanation. "I don't understand. Why are you so upset?"

"Why are you so calm?" she hissed, pulling further away from him. "We mean nothing to them. What is to stop them from handing over Drew, your sister and your father, to the Centre, to save themselves?"

"No. Mom, they would not . . ."

"How do you know? Why are you so willing to take the chance?" she hissed. Then, glancing at Miss Parker, she repeated her earlier demand, "Stop the car, Miss Parker. Now."

"Mom, calm down."

"I will not calm down. Jarod, you have no idea the things I've done to keep you safe, over the years. I do not regret any of it but, I promise, I will not let you jeopardize the rest of our family."

"All right, that's enough!" Miss Parker barked. Pulling the vehicle to the side of the road, she angrily shifted the car into drive and turned to face the other woman. She didn't need to see Jarod's expression to know his mother's words had hurt him. "Who the hell do you think you are, Lady? Have you completely lost your mind? Jarod would never . . ."

"Miss Parker, please."

Jarod's voice was soft but, in the small, confined area of the vehicle, it seemed to vibrate in her ears. Her words faded, mid sentence, as she turned to stare at him. His eyes were glistening and his face was soft, but when he looked at her, the Pretender managed a slight nod of reassurance and a deep breath before turning back to the older woman. Before he could speak, however, Margaret disconnected her seat belt and pushed open the door.

"Mom!"

Following her lead, Jarod, Miss Parker and Sydney exited the Suburban as Margaret hurried toward the car that held Emma and Mike. Parked only a few feet away, the couple watched the rapid approach, unsure of what it meant.

"Mom, wait!" he growled, grabbing the woman by the arm as she started to move between the two vehicles.

She struggled to be released but Jarod easily turned the woman to face him. He held her tightly with both hands, ignoring her small cry of discomfort as he insisted, "You can trust them. Mike killed the story he was writing, not because of the threats made to him or Emma, but because of the threats made against us."

"Against us? Jarod, he's lying to you. He's seeing an opportunity for a story and . . ."

"No! Mom, please, trust me. I would never let anyone hurt a member of our family. Why don't you know that about me?"

Margaret said nothing as she stared at he son. The light but quickly falling snow laced his hair, spotted his eyelashes and seemed to outline and soften the lines of his shoulders, but his grip reminded her of his strength. He was not the little boy she'd helped to build a snowman. He was not the child who used to took such pleasure making snow angels.

She inhaled sharply, filling her lungs with the thin, cold air as her eyes darted over his shoulder to where Miss Parker and Sydney were standing, watching her son protectively. Suddenly, it was as if she were back at her cabin, seeing him for the first time. Only, this time, she was seeing him - accepting him as a man, not desperately trying to reconcile him to the child she'd lost.

Jarod was a man. His face was filled with the same frustration she'd seen at her cabin, when he'd first asked her to leave with him. His voice was tinged with the same fear she'd heard when he tried to reassure her, moments before their car was forced into the river. No matter how hard she tried, though, Margaret had no idea how to console him.

Distracted by the slam of a car door, she looked to her left long enough to see Mike and Emma emerge from their vehicle. Jarod tightened his grip on her arm, bringing her gaze back to him.

"Why don't you know that about me?" His tone was much softer but distorted by a desperation she had not heard earlier. "Why can't you trust me?"

"I don't know," she admitted quietly.

Though their words were barely a whisper, in the quiet of the snowfall, they may as well have been broadcasted with a bull horn. As soon as they were spoken, Sydney moved to his protege's left side.

"Jarod, your father is waiting," he murmured. Sliding his arm around the younger man's shoulders, he felt the Pretender begin to relax. When the dark eyes met his, he smiled. "We need to go."

His eyes now on his mentor, Jarod released the grip he had on his mother. Pulling himself to his full height, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, while nodding in agreement.

"Thank you, Sydney," he murmured. Hesitantly drawing his gaze from the older man, he looked at his mother for only a moment before turning away. Finding Miss Parker at his right, he kissed her gently on the cheek and whispered, "I'll meet you at the house."

The brunette pulled back far enough to look into his face. "Where are you going?"

"It is late and we are all on edge. I think it is best if I ride with Emma and Mike," he replied. "I can make sure they don't get lost."

She hesitated. "Are you sure?"

He smiled and nodded before taking a step away and adding, "Try not to kill my mother en route. Drew really wants to meet her."

"No promises."

They heard the cars approaching and moved to the windows moments, in expectation, moments before the vehicles were visible.

"You know the plan," the Major ordered, as he moved to the door. "Stay out of sight until we are sure that this is not a Centre trick."

Though Drew's instinct was to argue with his father, Emily's gentle hand on his arm reminded him to be quiet. Nodding reluctantly, he followed his sister, Broots, and Debbie to the back of the house. With the back door open, he waited, unsure of whether he could actually follow the Major's orders to leave, if Centre operatives were in the vehicles.

In the seconds that passed, it seemed as if they were all holding their breaths. The moment they heard Jarod call out that everything was all right, they raced to the front of the house, and found the Major and Margaret locked in a desperate embrace. Drew glanced at his sister and saw the smile emerge through her tears. He felt Broots pat him on the shoulder in celebration but, by that time, his eyes had moved to Jarod.

Standing at the edge of the small crowd, the Pretender was standing behind two people Drew did not recognize. His expression was unreadable but his stance did not mirror the confidence Jarod had exuded earlier. Though his eyes never left the emotional reunion of his parents, Jarod did not appear to be feeling the same joy as Emily.

"Come on," Emily whispered, tugging on his arm. "I want to introduce you to Mom."

Drew glanced at his sister but, as she pulled him to where Margaret was waiting, his gaze returned to Jarod. He saw Sydney direct the strangers toward the house but, instead of moving to center of the property, where the family was gathering, Jarod stayed where he was. Miss Parker was beside him, her arm was wrapped loosely around the sleeve of Jarod's peacoat but her hand had a tight grip on his..

"You must be Drew."

The sound of the woman's voice drew his attention from his brother. Smiling shyly, he nodded and, closing his eyes, allowed the woman's hug to swallow him. Suddenly, the anxiety he had been feeling about meeting her faded. His arms slid around her waist and, when she kissed him on the cheek and whispered that she wanted to know everything about him, Drew felt a warmth spread from his gut. He knew he was still smiling when he pulled away and, when he finally opened his eyes, he felt the moisture of the tears he had suppressed.

"I am glad to meet you," he murmured, formally.

She laughed and hugged him again. This time, however, Drew's eyes remained open. They traveled to where Jarod was still standing and, when the Pretender dropped his gaze and moved toward the house, the young man felt his heart drop.

TBC

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