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An exhausted Parker nodded off around 5:30, after fighting off sleepfor hours. She woke up less than two hours later, her head snapping up.After a split moment to realize where she was, she looked up. Jarod wasn'tin his bed. A thought came to her, and with sudden concern she looked overto the dresser, but the gun remained in the same spot it had been lastshe'd looked at it. It was only as she finally noticed a small breeze onher neck that Parker turned, finding Jarod back at the balcony, only thistime he was actually standing out on it, looking down into the garden,again lost in his thoughts.

She noted, with great relief, that he was shaven, freshly dressed, andthough still pale, looked a degree less dead. As she got up from the chair,Jarod turned and looked at her. She smiled a greeting, but froze as shesaw his face. Cold, stony, a grin showing more malice than gentleness.

"So the great huntress awakes," he said in a mocking tone.

"J-Jarod, you're looking better."

A shadow passed over his face momentarily, and when he replied, hisvoice held a grim note. "What? Well enough to drag me back to the Centre."

Parker couldn't think of an answer to that, so simply ignored the statement."Since you're clearly more coherent today, mind telling me just what thehell's going on?"

"And what makes you think I owe you any answers?" he snapped, grabbinghis jacket and heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked worriedly. He was nowhere near strongenough to go off on his own.

He didn't reply, just slammed the door shut behind him. With an angryhuff, and realizing that she almost preferred his earlier behavior, Parkerreached for her own coat and cell phone, throwing the gun in a drawer asa second thought, and raced out after him. As she headed down the stairs,she could hear Jarod snap, "Watch where you're going!" then a door bangingshut.

Throwing her jacket on, she reached the entrance and swung it open,then ran outside. After wincing for a moment in the sudden brightness ofthe early morning sun, she looked about her expectantly, but couldn't spotJarod anywhere in the crowds of people heading about.

Heading back inside, she spotted Mary and cornered her. "Jarod justran out of here. Do you know where he could've gone?"

"N-no, ma'am," she stuttered, wide-eyed. "Oh, wait! We have connectionswith the local gym. I told him when he arrived that our guests can workout there free of charge."

"Where is this place?" Parker demanded urgently.

"Just two blocks down, O'Malley's. You can't miss it."

"Thanks," she managed over her shoulder as she hurried outside. Pushingimpatiently through chattering groups of early risers, ignoring their indignantcalls, she reached O'Malley's Gym. Moving inside, she headed straight tothe information desk.

"Good morning, ma'am," smiled the petite blonde behind the desk. "Andhow may I help you today?"

"There was a man, he would've come in here just a few minutes ago--Jarod?"

The clerk stared blankly at her for a moment, then her eyes brightenedwith recognition. "Oh, you must mean the dark-haired man. Yes, he flashedme his Swan Inn user's pass, then moved on to the locker room."

"And where would that be?"

She gave an uncomfortable laugh. "I'm afraid you can't go in there.It's the men's locker room."

"Watch me." Parker brushed impatiently past the blonde, spotted a signannouncing the appropriate locker room, and walked in without a secondthought. The clerk did not pursue her.

Inside, a few surprised men gave yelps of surprise, some quickly reachedfor towels. She ignored them, looking down every row of lockers expectantly.Not spotting Jarod, she stopped in front of a sign-up clipboard, then ruffledthrough the sheets. A speedy and half-unclear signature was placed in thepunching bags column. With a smile of satisfaction, she walked out, callingback, "As you were, boys."

The boxing room was the farthest area of the gym. Parker pushed openthe heavy wooden door, and entered. She was greeted by the dull thuds offists against pads. Sure enough, in the far left corner stood Jarod, blackjacket on the floor, dark pants and t-shirt still on. She was surprisedto see that he was taking on the large punching bag with bare hands, undoubtedlya painful choice. Also, it was rather dim in the room, the only light filteringin through a few windows near the top of one wall. She took one step inside,and led the door slowly slide shut behind her.

Jarod didn't once look up. Parker stood, near the door, for 20 minutes,watching him. There was a strength, a determined swiftness, in how hisfists made continual contact with the bag, that reminded Parker of herself,whenever she headed to the shooting range to work through her demons.

She noted with concern that he was beginning to sweat. Deciding thatenough was enough, she reached over and flicked up the ceiling light switches,then walked across the room to him.

"Imagine meeting you here," he muttered, giving the boxing bag anotherwhack.

"Don't you think it's time you took a break?"

"No." Thud. Thud-thud.

"Jarod, I don't care how well you slept. Yesterday you were an absolutemess, and I'm willing to be you didn't even eat this morning. This isn'thealthy."

A final punch at the bag, and he turned to look at her. Dark circlesunder his eyes only highlighted the grim, angry look in his eyes. "What?It'll be more impressive to daddy dearest and the others if you bring backa pretender who could put up more of a fight?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Now there is the real question."

She ignored his sarcastic tone, and pushed on. "Did something go wrong?Has something happened?"

Every muscle visibly tightened. Clenched fists at his side, he stalkedpast Parker, towards the door.

"Where are you going?" she demanded, hurrying to catch up.

"None of your damn business!"

"If you would just tell me where you're going--"

"Look!" he shouted, spinning around to face her. "I don't want you here!Why can't you get that?! Go away, Parker!" She stood, dumbfounded, as heslammed the door shut behind him.

After a moment, she picked up his jacket with a sigh, and walked resignedlyback to the inn. An inquiry with Mary confirmed that Jarod had not returned.

Going upstairs, she went into his room, hoping to be there when he returned.After calling downstairs to order some room service, Parker walked outonto the balcony, and looked down into the garden. In one corner, on amarble bench, sat on older man, probably in his mid-40s, reading a book.The sight reminded her of someone, and she reached in her pocket for hercell phone.

When Sydney answered, she skipped the usual greetings. "Any news yet?"

"None yet, I'm afraid. If Jarod had any intention of sending us theusual package, he apparently never got around to it. And you and I bothknow that without those little clues, it's very near impossible to tracehis steps."

"I know," she sighed. "Just hoping, I guess."

"So, are things any better on your side?" he asked hopefully.

"Better and worse, depending. Physically, he appears better, and sureas hell has built back up some of his strength. But psychologically..."she trailed off. "Who knows. Yesterday he was unimaginably depressed, andnow he seems extremely angry at the world in general. But I can tell youthis—one way or another, when he comes back, I'm getting some answers."

"It may be best not to provoke him," Sydney warned.

"Something bad's going on, Syd. If it's eating away at him this badly,it can't be healthy to hold it in."

"Jarod has always been one to handle things by himself."

"Yeah, but not by choice," she pointed out. "We had him locked up ina cement cell a good part of his life. You'd be a little self-reliant too.But this is different. I mean, clearly he isn't handling it well--lastnight, I had to keep calming him again and again, his nightmares were sobad."

"Really." There was a half-hidden tone of surprise in his voice.

"What is it?"

"I just find it interesting to learn that tactic still works."

"Huh?"

Sydney gave a reluctant sigh. "Nothing. I'll call if anything changes.And Parker, do keep in touch. Broots and I are both very concerned.

"Will do." She hung up, closed the balcony doors, and retreated to thebed. She was exhausted, but no way was she leaving this room until he cameback. Using his bed, she'd be able to rest, and still know when he cameback in.

****

Across the Atlantic Ocean, back in Blue Cove, Delaware, Sydney put downhis own phone, and let his eyes wander to Jarod's Lego Empire State Building.From many years ago, a memory came back to him of one late night...

Young Jarod lie, trembling, in his bed. The security guards had calledhim in, the third time this week, because the small pretender's screaminghad gotten so bad. Sydney entered Jarod's room -if it really could be calledsuch- concerned, ready to help the child as before. The nightmares gotworse every week, it seemed.

Try as he might, though, for the next 10 minutes, nothing he did couldcalm Jarod. Slowly, the boy started to wake up, whimpering, edging awayfrom him.

"No, no! Stay away!" Jarod suddenly shrieked. He was still dreaming,the man realized. And seeing someone who had been there for most of thetests was not likely to calm the child.

An idea hit him; he leaned closer, and said softly, "Jarod, it's allright. Miss Parker is on her way down." The shrieking stopped, but Jarodwas still shaking. "She's on her way," he assured. "Everything will befine then." Eyes drooping, the child gave a small nod. "Miss Parker willbe here soon." He laid back down, slowly, the hesitation easing out ofhis body. His muscles relaxed, his breathing slowly evened out. Withina few moments, young Jarod was in a peaceful slumber...
 
 
 

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Part 3