The Trick Is To Keep Breathing

Part 2

*Disclaimer: I don't own "The Pretender" or any of its characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana

~~~~~~~~~

"So, how long are we gonna stay here?" Broots asked Sydney in a hushed voice, glancing to the balcony, where Jarod and Parker were in the middle of some discussion.

"Eager to return to the Centre?" Sydney smiled.

"Oh, come on," Broots replied defensively. "Like you don't find this the least bit weird. Two days ago we were tracking a pretender down--now we're his house guests."

"Nothing connected to the Centre is normal, Broots. I've learned to accept things as they come, strange as they may be."

"S-so, we're not gonna bring him in?" Broots was surprised at his calmness.

"Our job is to find him--it's Parker's to bring him in. If she chooses not to..."

"Why wouldn't she?"

"Miss Parker may seem a bit...cold at times, but she has her own code of honor, her own sense of right and wrong. Now I have no doubt that she will eventually capture Jarod, but you must remember that they were both raised in the Centre. To her, they're fellow victims of a sort, so if he helps her in anyway, it's no surprise that she'll feel an obligation."

"You mean she won't bring him in just this once, because we owe him for last night?"

"Exactly."

With new understanding, and bit clearer picture of his boss, Broots looked to the balcony. The glass doors were closed, so he couldn't hear anything, but the way Parker was staring out to the bay gave him the idea that much wasn't being talked about as it was. "But next time...?"

"She will not hesitate. You know she carries a weapon--ever seen her hesitate to use it?"

Unbeknownst to them, Julia stood in the kitchen, listening to their every word. She followed the path of their eyes to the balcony and sighed. Jarod was placing a hand on Parker's back, and saying something. She frowned. Suddenly, she had the greatest desire for these people to get out.

~~~~~~~~~

"Parker?"

"I heard you." She kept her eyes focused straight ahead, and made sure to reveal no surprise at his words. He knew? How the hell...

"Well?" he pushed on expectantly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She turned to him. "Exactly what is it that you think you know?"

"Last night--" Her heart stopped. "--you did know how that was, didn't you?" Exhaling in relief, she shook her head, and even gave a small laugh, but quickly stopped as the action made her lightheaded.

"Jarod, that man is of no importance." And it wasn't, compared to what she was going through now.

Thinking that she was just lying to protect him from the man's identity, he continued. "Of course it is. Someone tried to kill you last night, Parker."

At the word "tried," Parker wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry. Instead, she did nothing at all, didn't show an ounce of emotion, and didn't reply.

"Why won't you tell me?" he demanded.

With an irritated sigh, she looked him right in the eye and snapped, "It's called doing a favor, you idiot."

He gave her a blank look. "What are you talking about?"

She studied his face for a moment, saw the genuine concern, and finally gave in. "The man last night... He didn't have a grudge against the Centre. He had a grudge against me." He raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. Reluctantly, she continued. "He wanted revenge, for his father."

"His father?"

"Yes...Jarod, his father's name...it was Nathan Crawford."

His face paled. "What?"

"He said it was my fault, everything that had happened. I know, it doesn't make any sense--"

"Unfortunately," Jarod cut her off grimly, "it makes all the sense in the world."

It was her turn to be confused, but she grew suspicious at his uncomfortable look. "Jarod, what aren't you telling me?"

"Back in England, when I told you everything about Crawford..."

"Yes?"

"That wasn't really everything?"

It took an incredible amount of control, especially considering her current condition, to remain calm. "What else? Jarod, what did you leave out?"

"I wanted to protect you," he said, ignoring the question. "With everything else going on, it just didn't seem right to drop something else -especially something this horrible- on you."

"Answer the question--what did you leave out?"

He linked eyes with her, took hold of one of her hands, and prepared to lay another burden on her shoulders.

"When your father got Crawford out, he drove him to the Centre to give him clear instructions, and the weapon of his choice. He remembered that he'd left something at the house -your house- that he needed, a file or something, so stopped there. While he was inside, Crawford was in the car, handcuffed to the seat. Your father...he'd left the door open a bit, and you just happened to be home." Parker's eyes widened, but they stayed linked with his. They were suddenly her only source of comfort. "You were young, of course, and playing with this doll. You stopped in the doorway, saw Crawford, waved to him..." The memory struck her like a bolt of lightning.

"I thought he was just a friend of Daddy's," she whispered. "How do you know all this?"

"You know your father trusted no one--there were security cameras hidden everywhere in that house."

"Tell me the rest," she murmured, feeling her eyes water.

"Parker--"

"Tell me!" she demanded.

A reluctant paused, then, "I think those handcuffs were all that kept Crawford from going after you. You'd gone outside, just a few feet from the door--"

"--and picked some flowers," she finished for him. "I made this bouquet of daisies. I was headed towards the car to give them to him, when Daddy came outside. I couldn't understand why he seemed so mad at me...I-I dropped the flowers; he picked me up and took me inside. I thought I was in trouble, but when he came home that night, it was if nothing had happened. He never even mentioned it."

"Why should he? Nothing had happened to you; Crawford was gone, with his orders to kill Helena. He thought the whole incident was over."

"But it wasn't," she realized with a tone of doom, "was it?"

"For you, yes. But for others...Before this, Crawford was simply a child molester. He had no preference, no real idea of the children he harmed. But after...after you he became fixated. You're probably the first child he'd desired that he'd never gotten."

"You said fixated--fixated how?"

"After he'd killed Helena, he disappeared, as per his agreement with your father. He lived a few places before Los Angeles, but was mostly a drifter. From what I've uncovered, there were other victims...all fitting the same profile: dark hair, blue eyes, all near the same age. The clincher was flowers--one girl was last seen in a garden, another was wearing daisy-shaped hair clips, most had a flower design somewhere on their clothes."

"God, no wonder his son blamed me."

Jarod nodded. "It must've been hard -or in his case, impossible- to accept the truth. I did some research on the family. Crawford was the perfect family man, which is why it took so long for anyone to catch on. After he was sent to prison, the mother had to work to support them. They sold the house, moved into a trailer. Eventually the mother ran off with her boss, leaving the kids with an aunt. Little Sarah and Chris had no idea what was going on. Later on, Sarah committed suicide. My guess is Chris felt that everyone had betrayed him--and Crawford, away at prison since he was a kid, had always seemed so perfect, that it's no wonder that Chris began to idolize him. After he got out, Crawford didn't contact Chris for a long while, not until just before he reached LA. They met only once--it must have been then that Chris realized the truth."

"And unwilling to accept it, he blames me."

"Exactly."

Suddenly, horrible nausea and dizziness hit her. Afraid she was about to pass out, Parker opened the doors and headed inside. "I'm going down to my room for a bit."

"Of course," Jarod said sympathetically, seeing how hard it was for her even walk. It must've been such a horrible shock, he thought.

Under normal circumstances, Parker would have been upset. But right now, she had bigger problems. In the elevator, she leaned against the back wall, and struggled to stay conscious. Just as the doors began to slide shut, Broots opened the door of the apartment and called out to her, "Oh, M-Miss Parker, I was wondering when we were leaving--"

"Back off, bald boy!" she snapped as the doors shut.

Face red, he went back into the apartment. Seeing Syd on the couch, grinning, he said with a look of indignation, "Well, that was uncalled for!"