Suffice it to say, that when the woman in this tale was informed of the news that her stepmother had died, due to an stray bullet on a mission, she felt no compunction to mourn. Miss Parker attended the funeral, not out of a sense of love but because her father expected his children to be there, in order to show the triumvirate that the Parker clan stuck together. It was duty and that's all. However, Miss Parker didn't let a small thing as the death of her stepmother hinder her work, either. Two hours after they put the coffin in the ground, she was boarding a corporate plane to follow a lead regarding the Centre's runaway pretender.

The woman and her two co-workers returned to the Centre defeated and tired that the lead they had followed went nowhere. Miss Parker looked up and found the geekie computer tech, Broots, fidgeting in front of her desk. He nervously wrung his hands together and then cleared his throat, awaiting permission from the Ice Queen to speak. Yes, that was her nickname at the Centre. For those that worked there believed that the 5"10" brunette with the long legs had ice water flowing through her veins.

"What?"

"Tomorrow's Christmas and I, um I really want to spend the day with um, Debbie," he stammered.

"Fine!" she snapped," but I want you in the office, bright and early the day after running everything through the Centre's mainframe that we found today at the warehouse. Run it twice. Understood!"

Broots nodded, hypnotized by the steely ice blue eyes, then back pedaled toward the office door and nearly bumped into his other collegue, Dr. Syndey Green.

"She not in a good mood, Syd," he whispered, so as not to incurr the wrath of the woman who's head was bent over a file as the door slowly closed.

"That's all right, Broots," the doctor replied as he reached for the doorknob and entered, "Merry Christmas, Miss Parker."

The sentiment was received with a rather chilly glare from the woman sitting behind the glass-topped desk.

"Humbug," she sneered," there's nothing Merry about this day or any other day. Now if we had succeded on capturing Jarod and returning him back here. Then perhaps it would be a merry day indeed. What a present that would be, wouldn't it?"

"My, aren't we cynical? Well that's beside the point, I wish to invite you to spend the holiday with Michelle, Nicholas, and myself, tomorrow. That is if you have no other plans?"

"Sorry, Syd, but I have files and other things to go through. After all it's just another day, really what's all the hype about. Spending time with family members that want nothing to do with you the other 364 days out of the year," she shook her head.

"Well the invitation stands, if you change your mind."

Sydney made his way to the door, excused himself, and wished the woman a Merry Christmas again, only to hear her curse.

Hours later, Miss Parker pushed herself away from the desk, shutting off the computer, throwing the files that she'd been busy reading in her briefcase, then clicked off the lights and made for the elevator. Pulling into the driveway, she climbed out, grabbing the case that sat on the passenger side seat, when she heard the melodious tones of singers across the street. She hoped to make it in to the house before they accosted her with greetings of good cheer and then she would have to threaten them away by showing them her gun. Fumbling with the key in the lock of the door because she was in such a hurry, she placed a gloved hand on the lion door knocker, this caused her to blink her eyes. Looking at the brass lion's head disbeliveing and yet seeing an image of her dead step-mother, Brigette, instead.

"When the clock chimes midnight, I shall visit you, Miss Parker," the voice was low and full of pain. Shaking herself out of the trance that the vision had left her in, she pushed open the door, entering the dark, lonely, and cold house, she threw her coat, gloves and dumped the briefcase on the chair in the hallway then made her way to the liquor cabinet. Pouring herself a glass of scotch, she headed for the bedroom, where she stripped out of the power suit, grabbed the cranberry velour robe off the end of the bed, and made a beeline for the bathroom, intent on drawing a bath in order to relax and forget about the near miss that occurred today regarding Jarod. They had missed him by mere hours, again. Elusive as ever, yet one of these day, Jarod, she thought. One of these days. Slipping her tired body in to the warm water, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep forgeting the warning of a ghostly visit at midnight. When the clock in the hallway began to chime, she woke with a start to lukewarm water. Pulling the towel from the vanity, she dried and then wrapped herself in the towel, she made for the bedroom and her cranberry satin pajamas. Instead of the shrill of the phone which always normally ocurred after a visit to one of Jarod's lairs, the creak and rattle of metal against metal sounded in the house causing her to reach for the 9mm that lay on the nightstand. It was a hollow noise and it spooked the rather nonplussed woman. Casting darting eyes in the dark, Parker found herself face to face with the ghost of Brigette.

"You're not real," she breathed softly, her blue eyes trying to tell her brain that seeing through the apparition was only because she had had too much to drink.

"Oh my dear, I'm very real," she raised her hands and the chains with the many different locks rattled and clanked," Miss Parker, beware and take heed, or you too shall walk the earth shackled by the Centre's evils. You shall receive three visitors, tonight, Parker. Listen and learn. The first arrives at the stroke of one."

"Why are you telling me this? It's not like we got along or anything," the woman stood staring at the ghostly form, perplexed.

"Suffice it to say that I was given the opportunity to save one soul and it seems that soul is your's. What you do with the information given to you, is your decision. I was only sent to warn you," with that the blonde spectre turned and walked through the wooden oak door. It was then, that Miss Parker made her way to the bed. Pulling the covers down, she crawled into it and closed her eyes willing sleep to over take her.

The clock in the hallway chimed the uneathly hour of one and Parker woke with a start, sure she had heard the phone. Lying there in the dark, she listened, waiting for the sharp shrill that never came. It was the casting of soft light on the bed that forced her to sit up and discover a young man with dark sad eyes, dark hair and a somber expression on his face.

"Kyle?" the woman whispered, drawing the comforter closer to her body.

"I am the first of your nightly visitors that Brigette foretold would come, Miss Parker. The image is that of Kyle but I am the shade of Christmas Past. Come we have much to see and so little time to accomplish it," he reached his hand out and her's seemed to have a mind of it's own, as it slipped into his. Soon the two were engulfed in darkness.

Part 2