A Cure For What Ails Us, Part 6

Parker sat crossed legged in the chair in the office Bailey allocated to her and Jarod, dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt and barefoot. On the floor next to her was an overflowing stack of documents, spread out on the desk were file folders, papers, photographs, and letters, the contents of flattened cardboard storage boxes that leaned against the wall. She was bent over a worn, leather-bound diary with little blue flags sticking out of the margins, deeply absorbed in what she was reading, pencil rested lightly in her hand, and a notebook with her own fresh jottings was open at her knee. he was surprised to see a light slipping through a crack beneath the office door. He knocked once and opened it.

His eyes caught the jeans tapered at the ankle, exposing smooth tan skin. She was full of mysterious energy. Unique. He couldn't imagine loving her more.

She lifted her eyes.

"Hi, baby," she said.

"You ready to take a break, Parker. You've been reading those files for hours," Jarod said, as he place a cup of coffee on the desk next to her.

"I know, but since you and Bailey went to all the trouble of getting anything that had to do with Lyle and Rachel from the FBI and the Centre, I thought that maybe there's something in here that would help."

"And?" he took the diary out her hands, placing it on top of the desk.

"I'm not sure, there something here in her diary that makes me wonder if Rachel meet Lyle before, only under a different name. He's had more identities than you." she tried to force a smile.

"I have a suprise for you."

"You know I hate surprises, but what?"

"Come on, and be sure to thank George, if it wasn't for him."

He grabbed her hand and dragged her out into the main office, only to find George sitting at his computer terminal, a smile on his features.

"It's all set. Ready." The huge computer screen in front light up and Parker saw a young woman with dark hair, the same color eyes as the man behind her, but it was the small child that was sitting on her lap that demanded her full attention.

"Benjamin," Parker whispered, then turned to Jarod," They're safe, the three of them."

"Four," the voice came from the screen," Debbie's with us as well. It's good to see you, big brother."

"Em."

Parker stared from screen to the man that held her wrapped on his arms, waiting and wondering.

"Then Dad received my letter?" Jarod asked.

"Yes, it was the second thing that Sydney gave to Dad."

"The second," Jarod cocked his head, slightly.

"Breaking the news about this little guy, here, took top priority," Emily smiled as she lifted Benjamin toward the video camera.

"Momma," he said, his fingers trying to touch her.

"How's my big boy?" Parker spoke softly, her hand touching the screen, which ellicted a drooly smile from their son.

"He's been an angel, Miss Parker, but he misses both of you terribly. He's due for his nap soon."

"Please just a little longer. Jarod?" Parker looked at him, pleading with her eyes.

"We'll establish the link early in the morning, but right now I need to speak to my father. I know how much this hurts, baby, believe me, I do, but . . . " he pulled her closer to him, her tears soaking his shirt.

"How early?" she looked up into his eyes with tear streaked cheeks.

"My grandson's up with the sun, Miss Parker and so am I," the deep voice on the screen replied to the question," Good to see you, son, just wish the circumstances were better."

"Same here, Dad. Have you been able to do what I asked?"

"Jakob, Ethan and Broots have been very busy getting everything ready. How are things going on your end, any progress finding Lyle and that missing agent?"

"He called, but Parker, here thinks that Rachel may have met Lyle under a different name, something that she mentioned in one of her old journals."

"Really? Care to enlighten me, Miss Parker."

"When she was D.A., there was an assault and attempted murder case involving a young Asian girl named Liane. The suspect, Gideon Warren, vanished and by the description that Agent Burke gave in her journal after interviewing him, there are some coincidences, that can't be denied. I think that Agent Malone should pursue the matter and I want Broots to check the Centre's mainframe.

"Done. I went to the Cabins-O-Love, like you asked and hit the jackpot, Jarod. You were right, he was in such a hurry, he left everything behind, I'll look through it and see if there's anything in there about this Gideon Warren."

"Thanks, Dad. We'll talk in the morning. Bye."

"Major Charles?"

"Yes, Miss Parker. Give Benjamin a kiss for me and tell him. . . . I love him, please."

"My pleasure, my dear. Hopefully this will be over soon, and then you can be reunited." With that said the link was broken and Parker cling to Jarod for a few moments, then the two of them went in search of Malone.

They stopped quickly in the office that Parker had recently occupied, so that she could retrieve the journal that belonged to Rachel. It was seven in the evening, some twelve hours since they had heard from Lyle. Just as Parker and Jarod entered Bailey's office, the phone rang. The caller ID says PRIVATE CALL, and grabs for it, says," Hello," and gets no response.

"Mr. Lyle?" Bailey activiates the speaker phone.

"Very perceptive, Mr. Malone."

That smooth, silky voice is his, all right.

"So, what can I do for you, Mr. Lyle."

"I told you, Jarod."

"We can't seem to locate him," Bailey holds up his hand to silence the pretender," Last bit of information we get is that he was killed out on the West Coast."

"I know about that little scam of his, if you can't find him, then I suggest you start looking for a leggy burnette with an infant. Her name's Miss Parker."

"What do I get in return?"

"Bailey, this is bullshit," John Gray snaps, "He's a goddamn chicken."

"Ahhh, Mr. Gray, " Lyle surpresses the urge to laugh," Still hotheaded as every."

"Look, Mr. Lyle let me at least talk to Agent Burke." A direct demand! He didn't mean to be so blunt, yet its hard second-guessing this man.

"Sure, why not, I still have about thirty seconds before I terminate the call."

"Bailey," the voice is soft and husky,"

"I'm fine, alittle worn out but gettin on fine."

"You see, Mr. Malone, your precious little agent here is fine. If you want to see her again, you now who I want in trade. I'll call tomorrow. Good bye."

Bailey looked up at Jarod and Parker, his hand rubbing the side of his temple, and then he glanced at George.

"Anything?" George shook his head no.

"A little worn out but gettin on fine," Parker murmured to herself, her eyes taking in the small leather worn journal in her hands.

"Parker?" Jarod looks at her, quizzically.

"Almost as good as your opposite polarities attract, wonder-boy," she smiled, her hand reaching to touch his shoulder," She recognizes him."

"What?" the voices of Malone and Gray echo in the glassed enclosed room.

"Agent Burke meet Lyle some years ago, he was calling himself Gideon Warren, then." Parker held out the open journal for Bailey."She said worn out and gettin on, she knew that you'd look into past cases, just in case."

"Parker and I, we were on our way here to tell you, Bailey."

"George, everything on one Gideon Warren, stat."

"Right on it, Bailey."

Lyle hangs up the phone and carefully places it in his pocket.

"What was that about, Miss Burke? Trying to leave a little clue?" he asks with a grin. "Don't bother. They're not going to find you until I'm ready for them to."

"Why are you doing this, Lyle?" she asks. "Or should I say, Gideon?"

She looks at him to see what kind of reaction she'd get from him. Maybe exposing him in this way will throw him off his guard for a moment and allow her some access into his twisted mind.

"What are you talking about? Who's Gideon?" Lyle asks with some genuine confusion.

"Gideon Warren? I remember you from a case a while back. You tried to kill a young Asian woman named Liane. But she got away before you could do to her what you did to those poor three victims last week."

"You don't know anything about it," he growls quietly, his eyes suddenly darkening and frightening Rachel. "You don't know anything." He gazes predatorily at her for a long minute before shaking himself out of the trance.

He turns and walks out the door, leaving Rachel wondering even more about her mysterious captor. Was she mistaken? She didn't think so. There was no doubt in her mind that he committed those horrible crimes. But there was something not quite right. She gets a flash of Lyle in her head. But the image is distorted, as if he's in a hall of mirrors in a fun house or something. A barrage of misshapen faces float towards her and she's not sure which is really Lyle. Is it possible that he doesn't know either?

"What's really going on with you Lyle? Gideon? Or whoever you may really be?" She sighs and sinks down on the bed, trying to figure out exactly how big a mess she was really in.

******

VCTF Headquarters, Atlanta GA

She hadn't been able to sleep, she had tossed restlessly, trying to find the position that would induce sleep. When that failed, she had risen and now, several hours later, was feeling the consequences of the night.

Then there was Jarod, who ordered her to bed, telling her it was imperative that they be at their best for what was to come. She felt slightly like a child being told to take a nap.

And again, she couldn't sleep. She tried going through all the excersises and procedures she had developed over the years for bouts of insomnia: a cool, darkened room, breathing patterns, relaxation exercises, meditation-and when all else failed, her mother's special recipe: a glass of warm milk. But in spite of her efforts to quiet her mind, two thoughts came crowding back. Her son and his father were in danger. She had to keep them safe, no matter the cost. It was the second time in as many months that she had faced the problem of protecting someone special to her, and again it had been Jarod that saved Ethan. She had been tested time and again, pushed to the limits she wasn't sure she could withstand, and then pushed further. Would it ever stop? Would there ever be a day that she didn't have to overcome some obstacle? She wanted to feel safe, secure and protected, knowing someone else was watching out for things. . . .perhaps it was finally time to allow that to happen. Let Jarod and the VCTF worry about Lyle, and the Centre, so that she could concentrate on what she wanted in her life.

Grace walked past the room where Parker was supposed to be sleeping, but instead, she saw the woman standing near a window gazing out at it. Somehow sensing that she knew exactly what the younger woman was feeling, the VCTF doctor knocked on the door. Parker turned at the noise and saw Grace through the glass in the door. A tenative smile welcomed Grace into the room.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Not really. I tried, but..."

At that Grace reached into her pocket and pulled out a small photograph.

"These are my boys. Three and one."

Parker took the photo and gazed at it, her eyes tearing, though she fought them.

"They're beautiful."

"So's your son. I saw him on the monitor last night. You'll be back with him soon, Parker. I got a feeling about this one."

"I hope you're right. I don't have a very good track record with happy endings."

"Everyone's luck has to change sometime. By the way, I saw George a little bit ago. I think he's getting ready to re-establish the satellite link. Maybe we should check?"

Nodding, Parker let the other woman lead her from the room as she thought again about Grace's comment. Maybe this time, she was due a happy ending. All she could do was hope.

She keep that thought in her mind, and grabbed her jacket, then followed Grace out of the office. Entering the room, they found Jarod seated alone at the rectangular table.

"George stepped out for a few minutes to go hunt down Bailey and John," he spoke.

"I'll leave you two alone, as well," Grace held the door for Parker, a hand coming to rest on the other woman's," If you want it badly enough, you have to fight for it. Don't give up."

"Thank you," Parker whispered, squeezing the hand. She hung her jacket over the back of the seat and then sat in the seat next to Jarod. He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked at her, just looked.

"I know that you didn't sleep, so promise me that when we are done, we'll go get something to eat." He swept her hair back and brushed his lips across her temple. Before she could object, he kissed her, his tongue teasing the edges of her lips, probing the inside of her mouth. His lips felt soft and Parker began to relax the horrors of the past few days evaporating, and for a few moments she felt safe from kidnappers and murdered women.

"You two plan on coming up for air," the male voice interrupted them, "Someone wants to say hello to his mommy and daddy. Then we get down to business."

Jarod and Parker looked up at the wide screen with rather sheepish grins on their faces.

"Morning, Dad," Jarod replied, smiling.

"Major Charles," Parker added, a bloom to her cheeks still visible.

Parker watched her son crawl all over his grandfather as he tried to reach out to her. Her heart was filled with sadness at sending him away but she realized it was for the best. He was not only being protected but with family that loved him. Family, the thought brought a smile to her face.

"Parker?" Jarod whispered," Care to share?"

"Later," her thumb brushed his lips as her hand cradled his rough cheek.

At that moment, Bailey's entire team had entered the room, the unease growing by the minute.

"Bailey Malone, Major Charles," Jarod made the introductions and the two men acknowledged each other.

"Major, my team, John, Grace and George. So what did you find at the cabin that Jarod had you go to?"

"Besides a sleazy owner. These." The Major indicated the neatly stacked folders that covered the table behind him," We spent half the night just organizing them. Seems that Lyle is rather taken with your agent, Mr. Malone.

This pile here deals with her career as DA and this pile when she joined the VCTF. Newspaper clipping, videos, and pictures. There is also a pile that maybe aliases that he's used in the past, the reason, find identification for Gideon Warren and Jan Hooper. You do realize that Lyle was responsible for Agent Burke's trouble with that renegade agent, last year."

"Can you send me the list of names that he used. I'll have George run them through the computer."

"Not a problem. Broots has already started, he's been receiving information about the Centre from an outside source.

"Angelo," Jarod and Parker replied in unison.

"You should know that the Centre's still looking for you, Miss Parker, but the termination order was canceled, they want you alive."

"Anything else, dad?" Jarod leaned toward the screen.

"A list of names along with pictures."

"Names, what kind of pictures?"

The Major held up a snapshot of two young women, sisters, for their features were similiar.

"It's labeled, Fong along with a date."

"The son-of-a-bitch kept mementos," Parker spat, angrily.

"Mementos?" John inquired, turning to look at Parker.

"Of those he killed."

"It's a common practice among serial killers," Grace replied.

"It's sick," John responded," I want to nail this bastard."

******

Lyle's Hideout

He was trembling with rage when he left the room, she had remembered, it was something he hadn't expected. So, it should have felt good to sit in the steam room and sweat. That had been his intention. Three miles on the treadmill, a round on the Nautilus, then vegetate. Like the rest of the day, the workout was not living up to his expectations. The workout had dissipated some of his anger, but he was still agitated. His obession with the profiler was distracting him from his goal. That goal was survival. He grabbed his towel and wiped the sweat from his brow and that was when he realized that he had made a mistake. A mistake that could cost him everything. In his haste to get to Atlanta and draw the Pretender out, he had not taken care of his belongings at the Cabins-O-Love. If Parker knew about the place than so did Jarod. Damn, he thought, as he got up and wrapped the towel around his waist, leaving the heat and mist. This could change everything. Lyle hated to admit he'd been wrong about anything, but perhaps playing this game with the Profiler was more of a risk than he could afford. Besides, Jarod on edge might be easier to deal with, and nothing would put him on edge more than some bad news about his little friend. With that thought in mind, Lyle pulled on a pair of jeans and flannel shirt. There was something about these clothes which made his "work" so much better -- purer somehow. After dressing, he made his way toward Rachel's room, and wondered how much of a fight she might be able to muster. He hoped she was a better adversary than most.

He checked the monitor, then unlocked the door and pushed it open, he addressed the startled woman in a manner that was less than pleasing. He scowled and clenched and unclenched his hands, when she defied getting up from her chair.

"What are you a Neanderthal?" she asked as she looked into hard and unsmiling eyes. His shirt sleeves were pushed up and a colored serpent eating his tail was etched on his arm, and it appeared to move as his muscles tensed.

"I won't ask again, get up!" Lyle watched as the profiler rose and looked him in the eye.

He reached behind his back and when his hand finally came into view she saw the handcuffs, taking a tenative step backward, she tried to get out of his reach but backed into the chair behind her as one snapped around her wrist.

"What the hell?" momentarily stunned at the change in his demeanor.

"Rest assured my dear, your day is going to be very leisurely. You'll do absoulutely nothing," his voice quivered at the prospect.

"F*** you, she spat, and pulled the cuffed hand out of his, the dangling cuff catching Lyle in the corner of his mouth, splitting his lip and throwing him off balance allowing her to reach the open door.

"Oh, I so do love a challenge," Lyle murmured as he regained his momentum and pursed the redhead down the hall," There's nowhere for you to go, Rachel. So, let's play."

Rachel made her way down the hallway and started down the stairs, trying the door at the bottom of them, only to find it locked and her pursuer right behind her. Whipping around, she tried to using the cuff that hung from her wrist, but this time he was prepared and grabbed it pulling her to him.

"Naughty, naughty. Play nice," he whispered, as he managed to snap the other cuff on to her wrist and began to drag her down an unfamiliar hallway, stopping at a forest green door. Slowly the door opened and inside the room was revealed to the startled profiler a rather rustic tool shed. Images of faces and pain and torment filled Rachel's mind as she watched her captor reach for the latched door.

"I told you, I wanted to play," he said, softly as he opened the door and pushed the woman in," Welcome to my world."

Inside, a bed, no more like a cot, stood alone against the back wall.

******

VCTF, Atlanta, Georgia

Her thoughts were dark. Her mind shifting between Lyle and Rachel Burke, people as different as the spider and Little Miss Moffat. She couldn't shake the image of the spider and wondered how they all had been drawn into its poisonous web. She was haunted by the horror. Stop it, Parker. This line of thought will only take you from melancoly to depression. She felt a band of tension move slowly up the back of her neck, and began to rub her neck.

"Headache?" Jarod asked as he entered the room.

"A little." She felt his hands on her neck as he gently kneaded away the tension.

"Let's get out of here for a while, Parker. We both need to distance ourselves, if only to get something to eat and a couple of hours of sleep."

"Are you sure that you want to leave? I mean, she's. . .," the egde was there, in her voice" important to you."

"Parker," he turned her around, to look into her eyes, "she's a friend, nothing more. I'm where I want to be. With who I want to be with, understand!" His lips brushed hers softly.

"You're sure. . . ." his finger touched her lips, shushing her, his other hand taking hold of her's, pulling her toward the door.

"I'm sure, unless you're waiting for a better offer?"

She let the question dangle for a moment, then smiled that smile he so loved.

"A few hours away from this insanity sounds wonderful, but if they. . . ."

"Bailey has my cell phone number, no more stalling."

He looked at her, and as they reached the door, he stopped, abruptedly.

"Jarod?" she inquired, looking into chocolate eyes so full of curiousity," Is something wrong?"

"I forgot. . . ." he began and watched her smile fade," Earlier, when we were talking to my dad, you seemed to wander. When I asked you about it, you told me that you'd explain."

"That's what you forgot, to ask me for an explaination," her smile returned.

"I'm waiting."

"Later," she whispered as her lips brushed his," After breakfast, I'm starving."

They made their way to the building's underground garage and an awaiting car as well as an agent.

"From Agent Malone," the young woman said, as she placed two sets of key into Jarod's hand, along with a piece of paper. Jarod flipped open the paper, and stared at the writing. An address along with a brief note.

"Something wrong?"

"Not a thing, Parker," he said as she climbed into the front seat of the car.

"So, where can I get a decent cup of coffee in this city?" she asked, settling back into the seat.

"Depends," he smiled.

"On," she inquired, turning her head to look at him.

"On whether you prefer three alarm or four alarm coffee?" the car exited the garage, and merged with the traffic already on the road, blending in.

"Huh?"

******

THE SHED

Rachel was halfway through the door when his hands clamped on her upper arms. She tried to wrench free but the grip tigntened, squeezing her flesh hard against her bones.

Furious, she twisted, and looked into his face, watching his lip curl upward. She turned away, but he cupped her chin and twisted her face to his. Fear slithered along her nerves. She tried to bolt, but Lyle grabbed and spun her, angling her arms, the cuffs biting into her wrists and pain shooting up her shoulders, and tears starting to blur her vision. She flailed and twisted as best she could but she was no match for him.

"No!" Rachel protested, terror overcoming her resolve to stay calm. She struggled and twisted, but her efforts were useless against Lyle's strength. His hand reached up and began to compress her trachea, and he forced her down upon the cot. Desperate, she dipped her chin and bit his hand with all the strength her jaws could muster. Lyle growled and pushed her roughly onto her back. His other hand yanking her cuffed hands high above her hand. She heard the click of the lock that hung above the cot, and realized that she was trapped, like a wound animal. Rachel resisted the impulse to beg, knowing that her pleas would only fuel his anger. Escape was now impossible.

"Why? What do you want from me?" she sobbed.

"I told you, Jarod, Parker and their son," he said calmly, a smirk spreading across his face.

******

Parker had been in the car for about twenty minutes before she finally lost her temper. It wasn't the hide seek games they were playing with the Centre, or Lyle's manipulation of the situation, or any of the usual annoyances of her life. It was the soft-voiced, easy-moving, polite, and impossibly stubborn pretender called Jarod. Despite the anger seething through her blood, her voice was even as she turned toward him.

"I'm not in the mood for teasing, Jarod."

"Parker, I'm . . . .just following orders," Jarod looked at the silvery blue of her eyes, and was reminded of glacier ice high in the mountains.

"Who's?" Parker asked, her voice calmer.

"Malone's," he said," With my father, Jakob and Ethan on the way here, we. . .I agreed that it might alert the Centre to concentrate the search for you and Benjamin here, instead of further North."

"Tell me what's going on then, I'm quite capable of taking care of myself. After all I found you when I needed to didn't I," she watched him, struggling not to laugh.

"I will but first we need a little down time," he pulled the car onto a driveway, directly in front of a firestation, hitting the remote button in the black box that was clipped to the visor above his head. Pulling into the garage, he killed the engine, and turned to look at Parker, her eyes a silver mist shot through with twilight blue.

"One of your lairs, that I must of missed," she leaned in close, catching the scent of soap and vital, warm male.

"No, VCTF's. It was used to protect the profiler that worked with Malone and his crew before Rachel came on board."

"Protect, from whom."

"A serial killer out to destroy her life."

"Another damsel in distress rescued by Jarod."

"I worked a kidnapping with Agent Waters, nothing more. Is that green-eyed monster rearing his ugly head, Parker?" he leaned in and brushed his lips to hers.

Writers:
Trish
Shannon
Nicky
Michele
Niceole
Shannon
Michele
Trish
NiceoleB Michele
Trish
Shannon
Michele
Shannon

TBC.....