*** Two months later.
"Let's take a walk Miss Parker."
Why not? Everything else has gone wrong today. Jarod's hand reaches out and closes over mine until only the tips of slender fingers can be seen. My feet hurt with each step on the uneven concrete and before making it half way down the street I stop.
"Let's drive. " Pain flutters briefly across my face.
He turns with a snide remark poised on his lips that quickly changes to concern. He hails a cab from the curb of the busy street. The drive is short and soon we come to a stop in front of a house on a tree lined street where voices of neighborhood children mingle with the sounds of birds. Like the gentleman he is, he slides out of the cab then turns and reaches out to help me exit. Walking together to the fenced in yard, he pauses to open the gate and motions for me to enter. Once inside, the immaculate yard stretches before us like something from Homes and Gardens. The air is fragrant with flowers and the moist grass glistens in the sun.
"There's someone I want you to meet Miss Parker." He turns and calls out. "Nia. Nia , come here sweetie. Come here baby, there's someone I want you to meet." The heart aches as if a razor has slashed it but the look on my face remains as immobile and hard as stone. 'I can be a pretender too.' The words fall like a hammer on the ears as he continues to call. "Nia, Nia. Come here baby."
Suddenly around the corner she comes running on tiny unsteady legs, joy on her small face. His strong arms embrace and lift her into the air. Then hugging her he coos and lays kisses on the small precious head. Jealousy rears it's ugly face, jealous that the kisses and love aren't for me. Quickly anger and embarrassment follow that I would be envious of the love they share.
"Is she yours?" It's a harshly spoken question that grabs his attention.
The lower lip quivers briefly, dark eyes filled with pain burn through as he answers. "Yes... yes she is. Until I can find her a home with someone to love her. Have you ever thought..." The eyes plead and the reason for the meeting is clear. But mercy and pity aren't easily given.
"Forget it Jarod. You're not dumping a dog on me, especially not one that only has three legs!." Nia growls in my direction, teeth bared in a threatening manner.
"She needs love and a home. As for the leg, she does quite well without it. She's learned to adapt." While soft brown eyes plead and concern covers his face, anger and disgust fill mine.
"It's a Dauhshund for crying out loud. A stupid wiennie dog! I thought you would have picked something more masculine." Eyeing the left back leg which is only a stub with a bandage, the reason for his choice is clear. "Still trying to help the down trodden I see. It was bad enough when your charity cases were people, but dogs? Really Jarod!" A gun is now clasped in slender hands before me and aims for the heart. "Well it's time to go home, hero."
"What are you going to do Miss Parker? Shoot me like you did last time." The remark sears like a hot poker while the look is accusing and judgemental.
"I didn't...I didn't mean to shoot you. It was a mistake." Taking a step towards me, he hugs the dog who continues to growl.
"Please let me help you. You can trust me." His eyes plead. The voice soft and low disarms and the hands lower the gun. "Trust me, all I care about is..."
"Damn you Jarod, I'm not one of your strays!" The gun returns to it's original position. The phone rings and as I answer it a familiar voice responds.
"We got a lead on Jarod Miss Parker."
"Broots, what...what are you talking about?" Eyes now fully open, the vision of Jarod and Nia the dog are gone like mist evaporating on a sunny morning. Long legs fight their way out of the wreckage of a bed while reality impacts the drowsy brain. "Speak to me Broots. What lead?"
"Huh, it came in about an hour ago. It seems it's a late night commercial shown on a local TV station in Phoenix, Arizona. It's for a health club in Scottsdale. You can see Jarod in the background." A free hand flays the air, reaching for the night stand as the body still trying to break free from the bedding stumbles towards the floor.
"Who else knows about this?" Glancing at the clock it's five a.m. Finally free from the sheets feet move swiftly towards the bathroom, a hand grabbing clothes along the way. The clothes are deposited on top of the laundry hamper before turning on the water in the bath. "I said who else knows?"
"Huh, Mr....Mr.Lyle."
"Lyle! How did he find out?" Cradling the phone between shoulder and cheek, the night gown slides down to become a silken pool at my feet. "Come on Broots, I'm waiting for a answer."
"He was here when it came in. That's all I know. I think he plans to leave for Phoenix without you Miss Parker." Comes the whispered answer.
Still cradling the phone while pinning up my hair I bark a order to Broots. "Well stall him damn it! And get Syd's ass out of bed and down there now!" Water from the shower drowns out his answer. Now fully awake the mind finally functioning and scheming, there is one sure way to delay dear sweet brother's departure without me... a simple call will keep the Centre's jet on the tarmac till I arrive. It'll give me just enough time to enjoy a simple morning pleasure.
***
Damn Jarod and Lyle. They both can wait. Sliding across the leather seat other prioritties take first place. Breathing in deeply the smell of leather greets the nose while the buttery feel of it presses against the thighs as the short skirt slides up. For the last few mornings it's been pleasure before business and there is no reason for today to be an exception. The left hand plies long even stokes across the hardness in front of me before grasping it firmly. While the right hand glides over a smooth roundness until it nestles comfortably in hollow of the palm. Red lips smile and part as a moist tongue flicks lightly across the teeth and lips. The calves of the legs flex with eager anticipation, feet sheathed in nylon and encased in black heels press down. With fingers slightly spread apart, the hand gently but firmly pulls back and the pulsating movement quickens the breath. Tensening the calves ever so slightly, legs and feet move rythmically once more as fingers now close to grip firmly before pushing forward.
Feeling the throbbing movement, a quick glance in the mirror reveales a smug pouty smile. The ankle straps of the black heels cut minutely into the flesh as the feet move once again in this sensuous dance. Then with fingers splayed, running a moist hand across the round hardness before finally cupping it in the palm to guide it back, the purr of Lyle's former Porsche is music to my ears. Poor baby, he should learn...never bet more than you can afford.
Shifting from second to third, thoughts of the last encounter with Jarod try to creep into my mind. Shifting from third into fourth the thoughts are banished. Subconsciously without thinking, no need to look at the tach, the hollow of my hand settles on the gear shift and I guide the car into fifth.
Swinging around the curve in perfect controlled motion,the damaged guard rail comes in to view. Poor little brother, he should have known better than to bet who was the superior driver. I'm not sure which was sweeter...the sight of him tangled in the guard rail or Daddy reaming his ass for demolishing a Centre vehicle. No, it was the look on the bastard's face when I held out my hand for the keys to his precious car.
***
The sharp click of the black heels as they meet the floor herald my presence and Broots seated behind his computer looks up with relief .
"Ah....Do you want to see this Miss Parker?"
"What do you think?" Poor Broots, my tone of voice is condescending when it should be grateful, but Lyle is hiding in the shadows. "You don't mind do you Lyle? "
He steps forward with arms crossed, a smirk on his lips.. "Not at all. I'm sure Jarod will wait for us. After all, it's almost a invitation." With a silly grin Broots plays the commercial showing a tall leggy red head extolling the virtues of fitness and health that can be gained by joining the gym. In the background with his head slightly turn and at times held down is unmistakable Jarod.
The breath is sucked in without thinking, a blush begins to burn it's way up the throat to the cheeks and the body tenses. Damn he looks good! As eyes follow each rippling muscle a strange feeling forms in the pit of the stomach. All too soon the commercial comes to a end, a quick glance to the side finds both Lyle and Broots focused on the red head.
"Let's see that again Broots. And this time can you enhance the shots of Jarod?" The simple request is meet with two pairs of inquisitive eyes. "What?"
"Ah...well yeah...I could do that....I think . But huh ...are you sure...." Broots stumbles like the idiot he is.
"Just want to make sure it's him. I'm not going on a wild chase for a look alike! Now Broots, now." The impatient snap of fingers bring the desired results. The commercial is played again, this time Jarod fills the screen.
"Hmm, looks like life on the outside is agreeing with him." Sydney has slipped up from behind un-noticed.
"It certainly does." The comment comes out before the brain can stop the mouth. Damage control now comes into to play. "Well since you're here Syd we can go."
***
Leaning back in the seat of the Centre's jet the commercial plays like looped tape in the head. Each muscle as it is flexed, every ripple ...
"Are you going to be alright Miss Parker?" Syd's question interrupts the commercial temporarily.
"Why shouldn't I be alright?" Standard answer to his perpetual inquiry of late.
"I thought you might be having reservations about seeing Jarod again. After your last meeting ended with shooting him, I thought.... "
"I didn't shoot him. He just got in the way of the bullet." Patient eyes that know better smile back at the answer. "If he had stopped when he was told to, no one would have been hurt Syd. Besides it was only a nick." Inwardly I cringe at the mental picture that never goes away. Jarod with blood oozing through his shirt, the look of horror on his face.
"Have you talked to him since the incident?" Damn Syd's never ending questions. Why can't he just stop?
"No. He hasn't called which is just the way I like it." Inwardly I cry at the lie. There is a hidden part that jumps with hope every time the phone rings then sinks with disappointment when the voice isn't his. " And no Syd, I don't think about it."
"Not even this morning on the way in?'
"Not even this morning." A mask settles on the face as the heart in silence aches.
"Am I interrupting something?" Lyle's blue eyes question the shushed exchange before seating himself uncomfortably close.
"Nothing important. What did Broots find out on the woman and the gym?" Syd's quick response comes to the rescue.
"Prime candidate for Jarod's 'pretends'. Name is Susan Smith, co-owner of the Saddleback Gym and Fitness Center. Partner Terri Adams was found dead in the gym's jucuzzi three months ago with one of the female clients. Who as it turns out was Susan's room mate. Autopsy report showed alcohol, drugs... including some steroid use... the gym was already having financial trouble, uh let's see.... here it is. Rediman's Gym the competition, tried to buy out the Saddleback. Now without a partner and a scandal, the place was just about to go belly up until four weeks ago."
"Let me guess....Jarod." The words come out as a hiss.
"Right. Showed up, took a job as a personal trainer, business has never been better. Of course why anyone would want him for a personal trainer ..." Lyle's comments are blocked out as the commercial mentally replays itself.
***
Susan Smith 's office at the Saddleback Gym is open to everyone's view. The door and walls made of glass hide nothing and the men in the group rivet their eyes to Susan's form. And why not. Her well toned body and gracefully moves are enough to catch anyone's attention. Without hesitation Lyle forges ahead through the door and greets her with his sauve demeanor.
"Susan Smith?" The right hand outstretched and a smile on his face.
"Yes?" The red head's green eyes sizing him up.
"My name is Lyle and I..."
"We're here about this man." Taking over I hold out a picture. "We have reason to believe he's working here. Is that correct?" Her fingers brush lightly over mine when taking the picture.
"Maybe. Why are you interested?" The hard look returned is distrustful.
"He is a manic depressive who is...was institutionalized in our facility in Delaware. He escaped a few weeks ago. He is delusional at times and believes he can pretend to be anyone he wants. As long as he takes his medication he functions quite well but without it, he sometimes has a tendency for violence. We have reason to believe he came to work for you as a personal trainer. We saw the commercial you run on late night TV. We need to find him and it is urgent. " It's amazing how well I've learned to lie.
A look of hesitation clouds her face. "How can I trust you? He said someone might come looking for him."
"Call me Sydney." Syd's hand stretches out to rest on her arm and his soft voice is reassuring. "I've been Jarod's psychiatrist since he was a child. I know how convincing he can be. But it is for his own good that you tell us where he is."
The barrier breaks down. "He came here about four weeks ago. I hired him, the clients love him. He's kind and understanding. Let's them talk...makes them feel important." Sadness sweeps across her face. "He went with one of my wealthier clients to New York on her business trip. She can afford it. They should be back in the morning. I'll give you her phone number if you like."
"Would you please." Syd's fatherly smile and manner wins her over.
"Sure. Let me get Shelia's number for you." She writes something down on a piece of paper, folds it and hands it to me. She smiles then adds. "Do you mind if I talk to you alone Miss Parker?"
Sydney, Broots and Lyle file slowly out the door. Once with it shut she leans forwards with a whisper. "Jarod said to give you this."
The soft pressure of her lips on mine, her arms around me come as a surprise. It's not what I expected and feel myself respond. She pulls back and smiles. "I have your number. I'll call if Jarod shows up."
***
"Just what the hell was that?" Lyle questions as we leave the gym.
"Miss Parker next time you decide to play psychiatrist you should check your facts. You could have put us in a very precarious position back there with..." Sydney begins.
"She bought it didn't she? If I had left things up to the three of you we'd still be there with your eyes glued to her body." I snap walking briskly towards the car we arrived in.
"That's not what I mean and you know it!" Comes Lyle's angry reply.
"If you're talking about what that little exchanged between what's her name and myself, forget it!" A blush burns at the base of my neck, a strange mix of emotions rush through the brain. Approaching the car the perfect opportunity to change the subject presents it's self. "Sam stay here and keep this place under surveillance. If you see anything that might look like Jarod I want you to call me."
"Yes Miss Parker." Sam moves uncomfortably in the hot car.
"And where are you going to be?" Lyle asks.
"I'm going back to the hotel, take a shower and eat." Then turning to look back at the building I whisper . "I don't trust her. "