Counterpoint by Leah
Table of Contents [Report This]
DISCLAIMER: The characters Catherine Chandler, Joe Maxwell, Vincent, Father, Diana,and Jacob are the property of Warner Brothers. The characters Jarod, Miss Parker,Sydney and Broots are the property of MTM Entertainment and NBC Productions and used without permission for the purpose of entertainment only. This story is based on the second half of the 1st season of Pretender and the 3rd season of Beauty and the Beast which starred Linda Hamilton and Ron Pearlman. No infringement intended.
COUNTERPOINT
by Leah
Copyright 1999
D.A BUILDING
Joe Maxwell's Office
"Catherine Chandler's case has been reopened." She hadn't wanted to believe it when she had been first called in over the telephone. She hadn't wanted to believe it when she got on the plane and flew into New York. She hadn't wanted to believe it when she was riding in the taxi to the D.A.'s offices. But now as she stood in Joe Maxwell's office and said this very thing she knew it to be true and any last lingering doubt vanished as Joe nodded his head.
"That's right. One aspect of it anyways," Joe said. He was sitting behind his desk.
"But what about..." Diana began to say.
"We have new evidence that's been brought to our attention...a new case that goes back to the old one," Joe explained and his eyes looked past Diana towards the door. She turned to see. "Here's someone I'd like you to meet. Detective Holmes this is Detective Bennet."
"Detective," the man in his late thirties nodded at her. "You can call me Jarod." His brown eyes looked her over, a bit suspiciously, she thought. His attitude was cool and his brown hair was short but spiky.
Diana acknowledged him and then turned once again to Joe. "But we already know about--Cathy's murderer. There are no grounds for reopening her case." She wasn't able to bring herself to say the dreadful name of Gabriel. Now THAT was someone she'd rather forget.
Joe motioned for the two to sit down. Diana sat, or rather fell into a chair, draping her jacket over her knees. As usual, she was wearing blue jeans and a blue sweater. Jarod sat down in another chair and seemed ready to speak. He gave a questioning look to Joe.
"Alright Bennett," Joe said, folding his hands on the table. "Detective Holmes' specialty is investigating older cases when new evidence comes to light. Apparently, one of his investigations brought him to Cathy's files and something we missed." With that, Joe gave Jarod the floor.
Jarod stood up and held out a snapshot to her. She looked at it. It was a grey-eyed, brown-haired boy. He looked about seven years old. "His name is Mikey. He was taken illegally by his father. His father was apprehended but the boy is still missing. I've been tracking the boy. He's in this part of New York. Several people have identified him. Apparently, he was living on the streets and police chased him when he was seen pickpocketing. They didn't catch him. He's disappeared and no one has seen him in three days."
Diana nodded. She intently studied the face of the boy, his clothes, and Jarod's demeanor as he told the story. "What has that got to do with Cathy's case?"
"Mikey was last seen here." Jarod held out another photo to her and she took it. It was a large building. She recognized it immediately.
"This fact brought to light that this is not the first time someone has disappeared near here."
"What?" Diana asked. The little boy had been alone on the streets, she was thinking. Jarod was spending a lot of time trying to find him. Why was that? Children disappeared every day.
"The baby," Jarod replied.
"The baby?" Diana repeated. "Catherine Chandler's baby?" What did Jacob have to do with this?
"Yes," Jarod replied, reemphasizing his words and apparently studying her reaction. "The baby Catherine Chandler delivered before she died was never found. Now, Catherine Chandler's murderer had kidnapped the infant?"
Diana looked at Joe. Was this man actually questioning her?
Joe caught her meaning. "Look," he said. "I told Holmes how you worked on the Chandler case. You were closer to it than all of us. I figured you wouldn't mind answering a few questions."
"You have the report," Diana retorted. She took a serious look at this Detective Holmes, what a name, and decided immediately that something definitely was afoot with this character.
Joe caught the edge in her voice and knew now was the time to step lightly. "As a favor to me, I'd like you to work with him on this."
Diana stood up. "You want to know what happened to the baby. Alright." Joe began to relax. "I'll do it. But I'll do it alone."
Joe shot straight up in his seat and his annoyance was plain. "I called you because I know how close you got on this case. You knew more than any of us and..." he paused and Diana knew he wanted to add 'and there were secrets you never told.' He would not accuse her in front of another. He had too much respect for her to do that. "I didn't have to call you but I did...because I figured you would want to know. By all rights, it's still your case. If not for me, then for Cathy. For her child. Come on. Work with me on this."
Diana considered for a moment. She was doing this for Jacob's sake. The last thing she wanted them to do was to find Jacob. If she accepted well...but if she did not accept and somehow the investigators found out...Diana sat back down and crossed her arms. "Alright. Yes, Cathy was kept alive until the baby was delivered. Gabriel..." she paused as the name still sent shivers down her spine. "Wanted to adopt him as his own son."
"There was an empty crib in the room where," Jarod's voice ran on quickly, "his body was found." Diana tried to keep from wincing. Thankfully, he omitted reviewing how Gabriel's death had come about. "One of the other bodies found in the house was a doctor."
"That's right. The child had been sick," Diana replied. "I know because Gabriel kidnapped me and told me." This was also in her report. She had written her report with as many facts as possible. As long as the facts didn't reveal the secret, she had kept them true to life. As for the rest, well, she had let the police and D.A.'s offices fill in the blanks with their own assumptions.
"And you saw him?" Jarod questioned.
"Yes."
"The baby?"
"Yes. I saw both of them." Stick to the truth. Stick to the truth as long as it doesn't lead them anywhere. "What you're asking me about happened almost eight years ago. The boy you're looking for just disappeared." She brushed a few strands of hair back. "How can you see a connection?"
"Can you say that there isn't one?" Jarod countered.
Joe broke in. "Obviously it's gonna take some time to work out all the little details. When you come up with some breaking news let me know about it, k? Here's the info on the case." Joe held out several manila folders to Diana. She took them. "Get to work," Joe waved them away.
Diana nodded, hiding her relief and stood up. Jarod already had reached the door and held it open for her. She walked past him and he followed. When they reached the lobby of the building, she turned on him. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I have to go. I just got back into town and there's a few things I need to take care of." Diana knew she sounded very abrupt and it probably seemed like she couldn't wait to get rid of him. (which wasn't to far from the truth.) She paused momentarily as Jarod took a Pez canister and popped a piece in his mouth.
"Want one? They're very good," Jarod interjected, holding out the canister.
"I'm sorry," Diana began again. "I'm used to setting my own pace. It's going to take some getting used to." She shook her head and suppressed an urge to smile. This boyish incongruency in Detective Holmes was amusing and--odd. Diana studied him a moment. She immediately knew that she wasn't dealing with your ordinary detective. And she had known quite a few in her line of work.
Jarod smiled at her and put the canister away. "I still need to ask you some questions. Parts of your report seemed a bit a sketchy and I'll be happy if you could help me fill in the details. Perhaps later? After you've taken care of what you need to take care of, of course."
"I'll meet you tomorrow morning for coffee. There's a cafe down the street. We'll talk then. Eight sharp," Diana tossed this over her shoulder as she went out the door. She walked quickly and chose against hailing a cab so she could let off some steam.
Catherine Chandler's case has been reopened. Nothing short of that could have induced her to come back to New York City. She remembered back to the day she had left, two years ago and hadn't set foot inside the city since. Chicago had been her domain during the period after that. She had found plenty of work to occupy her there, while she tried to forget. But she hadn't forgotten. For to admit the truth, she didn't want to forget and she had planned to suffer in silence for the rest of her life. But now...She pressed the thought away and began to unpack.
She looked around the loft. Things were nearly as she had left them. Perhaps it was sentimental of her but she had never fully let the loft
go. She had kept it even several months after moving to Chicago. And as soon as she had known she was returning, she had called, found out it was vacant, and taken it again. She unpacked her computer and set it up in the space her old one had occupied once before. She turned it on and brought up her diary. She read her previous entry:
Oct. 27, 1997 Monday--I'm going back to where the nightmare began. Joe says they reopened Cathy's case. Don't know why. Joe was pretty cryptic over the phone so I know it's something serious. I have to go back. I made a promise to Vincent. I must keep it.
Vincent. He had to know about this. She had to tell him. Tonight.
******
BELOW THE STREETS OF NEW YORK CITY
It seemed like a dream as she descended down a ladder after replacing the cover of a manhole and switched on a flashlight. The beam cut through the darkness and she walked warily, trying to remain as silent a possible. At last her ears picked a sound which could have simply been a rattling noise that pipes often make but her trained senses knew it to be something more. The music of the tunnels...the message system of all who lived Below and the alarm relay of the sentries who guarded the entrance to this world. The system had fascinated her and Pascal, Keeper of the Pipes, had taught her some of it. She walked along the pipe and then took her flashlight and struck it, paused and then struck it again.
She hoped she had remembered the proper code. Even if her efforts were merely gibberish...she knew it would alert them to the presence of someone who knew their secret.
Instantly, the music of the pipes stopped and Diana's ears strained as she called out, "It's me. Diana. I have to see Vincent." She knew that invisible sentries listened. The noises of the pipes began again. Not long thereafter she heard footsteps and from the darkness stepped...
"Jaime," Diana breathed in relief. Despite her purpose, she was almost glad she didn't have to face Vincent yet.
Jaime held up a lantern. "Diana?" she asked. "I didn't believe it was you when I heard it. What are you doing here? Everyone will be glad to see you. You've been missed. Why didn't you come by a shorter way?" Jaime, who had been in her teens when Diana first met her, had now blossomed into a full-grown woman. She smiled as she asked the question and there was welcome in her voice.
"It was important," was all Diana would say. She allowed herself a small smile. She had deliberately avoided entering through the drainage tunnel in Central Park. She had had a...feeling. As if she might be followed. She had wandered about, weaving a trail so complex, so reversed and looped that even she had almost lost herself before arriving here.
"I need to see Vincent." Why worry Jaime unless she knew for certain?
"Okay," Jaime said, turning to light the path and lead the way. She was not worried over the fact her question hadn't been answered. Although those Below had finally welcomed Diana into their midst, she had always remained a little mysterious and aloof. She liked her privacy. And they of all people respected and accepted privacy. She was Vincent's friend returning for a visit. That limited knowledge, for now, was enough.
It was not enough for Jacob Wells, lovingly called "Father" by all of his friends below. He was leader, mentor, and guide of those who dwelled in this underground world. And he wouldn't accept anything less than the whole truth. His hair once brown had become a mousy gray along with his mustache and beard. His eyes were sharp and keen and he was rarely seen without a book in his hand...unless he was playing or teaching his favorite game of strategy--chess.
"Hello, Diana," Father said, when she appeared in the threshold and he had dismissed Jaime. He accented words by thumping the books he was stacking. "Vincent's," THUMP!--"not here. Gone." THUMP! "Looking for you." THUMP!
"Me?" Diana began to question, but another thump cut her off.
"Yes." The thumping paused as Father rubbed his beard and actually looked at her. "Helper spotted you. Above." Diana could see him collecting his thoughts and torn between welcoming her or actually showing the irritation he felt. Father definitely was angry. She could tell.
He's still trying to protect Vincent. Thinks of me as a threat. Diana moved forward into the room and fingered one of the books he had been stacking. She kept her voice calm. Low. Detached. "I didn't mean to upset you, Father. I know it must have been hard when I left." Her words brought the matter to the surface as they had been intended to do.
"Hard? Did you think of Jacob? Of Vincent? Of any of your friends?" Father sputtered.
"I'm back now," Diana replied, folding her arms defensively. She had tried not to seem unfeeling. The emotions that had arisen were too great to deal with at the moment. Yes, she had wanted to scream. Of course I was thinking of you. I was thinking of all of you. That's why I left. Then, why not say it? A voice bobbed up inside of her head. Certainly wouldn't hurt to try. Certainly wouldn't do any more harm than had already been done. But the old reservations came back and she chose an alternative explanation...which was also true. "It was better that I go. I have my work and it's dangerous. If I'm not welcome...."
"You are always welcome here, Diana." The silken voice boomed behind her and a new atmosphere rushed into and filled the room. For a moment, time stopped. In the threshold loomed a massive figure dressed in layers of clothing. Blue eyes twinkled at her. Human eyes. Which were oddly out of place to go along with the lion-like face. The face of a beast.
"Vincent," Diana breathed.
Vincent cocked his head towards her in a questioning gesture. The wheels of time began turning again. "Forgive Father, but it came as quite a shock to us that you were back. How are you?" he asked, gently. Her face must have momentarily betrayed her for he moved closer immediately and his low voice now had a whisper of urgency, "What is it, Diana? Tell me."
"I have news," Diana said. Of course she had news! Stay calm. Don't spring it on them all at once. Vincent could take it, but Father was upset enough already. "It's about Jacob."
"Jacob?" Vincent and Father said in unison. Father sat down in his chair at the table.
Diana began to pace the room, slowly as she spoke, "There's an investigation going and they're looking for Jacob. I've agreed to help them. I don't know how far this thing will go, but things could get pretty ugly. There's another detective working on the case. I thought you should know." There was no use going into details unless pressed for them.
Father was looking absolutely horrified. "But....they don't even know what the child looks like!"
"I know," Diana replied. "They'll start checking. Orphanages. Foster homes. Homeless shelters. They'll put plains clothes out on the street. Asking questions. Looking for children of the correct age. Ones with blank histories."
"Why?" Vincent asked and somehow Diana felt all the anxiety that came with it.
"Because another boy has disappeared and the police haven't found him. The way they see it, Jacob still is missing and the police never found him. Because it's a similar case. They have no idea that Jacob's safe with a family who loves him," she said this more for Father's benefit than Vincent's. Vincent knew what this meant. "It won't be a good idea for Jacob to go above. At least not for awhile." Diana thought quickly. Her large eyes widened. She looked at each of them. "Do either of you know of a boy named Mikey? Perhaps he found his way here? He had been living on the street?" she asked in earnest.
Father frowned. Vincent shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, Diana. We have had new arrivals. Bradley. David. Jackson. No Mikes nor Mikeys."
"Thank you, Diana," Father replied, all his past resentment for her desertion vanished. "I must go call a meeting." Father departed.
Vincent was watching her attentively now. "Something more worries you."
Diana looked up at him and sighed. "Yes. This detective. He suspects something. I think he figures I know more than I've let on. It's going to be difficult."
"Things are rarely easy," Vincent replied.
How true! Vincent always had a way of speaking that hit the nail right on the head. In her admiration, she waited too long to reply and an uncomfortable silence crept in upon them. Vincent was looking at her in that dear way he had, that made you want to help him. Made you want to let down all your defenses and pour out your heart, knowing that he would understand and listen. But no time for that now. Clear your head and forget your own troubles. Help Vincent.
She broke the silence. "I'm meeting him tomorrow."
Her tone must have been regretful, for immediately Vincent's gaze became penetrating. "I do not blame him, Diana. Neither should you. He is merely doing his job. Doing that which he believes is right."
How could Vincent do that? Such faith, such trust in human beings. She had never put that much stock in anyone. At least, not until she had met him. "Maybe," Diana shrugged. She had her own suspicions in that quarter, but she would not mention any unproved suspicions yet.
"And you must do yours," Vincent continued, as if reading her thoughts.
"Yes." She suddenly felt claustrophobic. She changed the subject. "How is Jacob?"
"Asleep." The reply was gruff. Abrupt. Perhaps even a note of irritation.
"Oh." A heart throb. Disappointment.
"As active as any child his age but just as thoughtful. And...." he held the words on his tongue a moment before releasing them, "....he misses you."
"Oh." A heart leap. Hope. "I've missed him too." She made a motion towards the door. "Gotta go."
"I'll walk you out. The world Below is constantly changing and the tunnels change with it." They walked for the most part in silence until they reached a ladder which led above. "Come again, Diana. Jacob and the other children would like very much to see you."
***
CAFE
7:37 A.M.
"Coffee? Latté? Or cappuccino?" the waitress asked.
"Cappuccino?" Jarod looked up from viewing the breakfast menu. "What's that?"
"Oh brother. You're kidding, right?" Her pen was poised over the notepad, waiting to scribble down the order.
"No," Jarod replied. "They didn't have it where I grew up."
"What planet did you grow up on?" the waitress countered. "It's part of the decade....the 90's. You know, bagels, lattés, cappuccinos. A cappuccino is flavored coffee but betta. It's all foamy. It's got milk in it. A cappuccino. Now, do you want one or what?"
"Yes, please," Jarod replied.
The waitress gaped at him. Manners? The gentleman from outer space wants cappuccino. Fine. "Want a flava? Hazelnut? Irish Cream? French Vanilla?"
"Three of those."
"Three?" in a shocked tone. "Different ones?"
"Yes, please."
The pen went to work. Three caps each with a different flavor. He had gone from never hearing of cappuccino to wanting three! But the customer is always right...yeah right. This was New York. She better get a big tip for this one. Yes sir re.
Jarod set aside his menu and drew a folder from his jacket. He opened it flipped several pages over. There were articles about Catherine Chandler's murder and a detailed analysis of the autopsy. There were pictures of the house where the persons involved in and Gabriel, the one responsible for her death, had been apprehended. The first on the scene had been Detective Diana Bennet. The rest of the law enforcement crew had arrived afterwards. Pictures stood out in his mind. The empty crib. The nursery. From the data he had collected Gabriel had evidently viewed the baby as his prize possession. Why so, that was unclear. In the empty nursery, Gabriel had died. Where was the baby? Gabriel had not fled from the house and Jarod was positive if he had...the villain would have taken the baby with him. That would easily explain the empty crib. But he hadn't. So it didn't.
******
7:50 A.M.
Jarod was sipping his first cup of cappuccino when Diana Bennett walked in the door. She sat down opposite him, laying her duffel bag beside her in the booth. Her eyes were brighter than they had been the day before as if she had experienced something both painful and pleasant. The hidden anxiety Jarod had sensed from her yesterday was still there, but now more controlled. She looked at the cup in his hand and the two others sitting in front of him and made no comment. Her attitude seemed to say to him; I'm here. Now what?
"You're early," Jarod commented, by way of opening the conversation. She had struck him as very punctual person and he'd expected her to come at exactly eight o'clock. This woman puzzled him...and she was exceeding his expectations, testing his Pretender skills. He hadn't been able to follow her last night. Somehow, she'd eluded his surveillance...and that didn't happen too often. "Care for a cappuccino? It's very good."
"The early bird catches the worm," Diana stated, solemnly. Her tone said; You're early too. The waitress came and set her cup of black coffee down in front of her. It was her usual. "I'm covered," Diana replied to Jarod's question, cradling the cup in her hands and then setting it down again.
"Take care of that business you had the other day?"
"Yes." Her eyes narrowed. She took a hot sip of caffeine and changed the subject. "Why are you so interested in a child that disappeared years ago?"
"Aren't you?" Jarod's eyebrows raised. "Every child deserves to be in a home where someone loves them and takes care of them."
"Of course." That was the very reason she had to keep Jacob from being found! With an effort, she took another sip of coffee and said, "The child might be dead. We could be chasing a memory." Forgive her for these insinuations...for these misleading comments. She hated to make them. But she had to!
"There was no body found. You all searched the house thoroughly, of course."
Diana nodded, but her eyes skipped away from his face for just a moment. If he hadn't been studying her face so intensely he would have missed it. So Miss Bennett, could there be something at the house that had been missed? He pressed farther, "But of course, I forgot. It's all in the report, right?"
Diana kept the cup to her lips and then set it down slowly. Now, it was the game of the spider and the fly. The question being who was the spider and who was the fly? Which tangled web would unravel first? Diana traced the pattern on her placemat with her finger and said, "There's some things I want to ask you too. Why were you looking for Mikey?" She gazed at him.
"That's my case," Jarod replied, but he was pleased with her question.
"I know. But you were getting ready to transfer to another department. Why the sudden change of heart, Detective Holmes?" She used the name deliberately and watched him squirm. It wasn't much of a squirm, but she saw it.
"You've been checking up on me," Jarod smiled. She was smart, he'd give her that. "Mikey's mother lost him three months ago. They were at a supermarket. He was at her side one minute and the next, he was gone. Can you imagine how that feels? To have a child ripped away from you? As soon as I learned of the case, I felt I had to help."
He seems to take this so personally, Diana pondered to herself. "How did
you find out he was here?" She had been up most the night after her confrontation with Vincent and Father, reviewing the details of Mikey's case. Mikey had disappeared. His father, Micheal B. Crafton, a man involved in illegal activities, was the chief suspect. Mikey's father had been apprehended but Mikey had remained lost. She knew the report now by heart. But it was better if Jarod told her.
"I have methods," Jarod replied. "A boy, matching his description, was in a foster home. He ranaway. From there, as I told you before, he was living on his own. Now he's vanished without a trace in the same place that Catherine Chandler's baby vanished years ago." Explain that to me, Miss Bennett, Jarod thought as he reached for his third cup of cappuccino. Where had she gone last night and why was she so anxious to keep anyone from following her?
**********
LATER THAT DAY...
Jarod walked through the halls of the mansion, examining every inch and level of the house. Through his mind flashed images of what must of happened that day. He stared long and hard at the cage and the place where a camera had once rested. He remembered the reports he had read. "Someone else was held captive besides the child," Jarod whispered to himself. "Who that was is unknown." The upper regions of the house had offered no real clues. But the basement had been apparently abandoned and forgotten by the mansion's current caretakers. And then he found it.
The pipe.
Whoever had sealed it must have been a master because if he hadn't been so used to looking for escapes he would have never noticed it. Someone had taken extra pains to make it look as if the pipe had been sealed as long as the others, however Jarod's trained eye noted it could not have been sealed long. Someone could crawl through there. Someone had gone through there. But to where?
This merited further research.
BELOW. . . .
"Diana!" the voice was youthful, sweet, and downright charming. Eight-year old Jacob had spotted her and come running. "Where have you been?" he asked. "I wanted to go visit you but my dad said you were coming here." The boy took Diana's hand and gazed up at her in a confiding manner
"I had to work," Diana tried to explain. She smiled down at him and then said, "So, what have you been up to?"
"I learned to swim while you were gone," Jacob said with pride. "My father taught me. But Diana, why'd you go away? Was it me?"
"You?" Diana stopped in surprise. "Why no, Jacob. It wasn't you." She knelt down to make his face level with her own. "Why would you think that?"
"You left because you were upset," the boy replied wisely. "I thought it might be me. I made you sad. So that's why you went away."
Diana looked into the blue eyes for a moment. Could the mind of a six-year old possibly have picked up on the inner torment she had felt when she left? Then, she recalled that Jacob, like his father, was blessed with remarkable empathetic ability. "Jacob, you're my pal. Nothing you could ever do would make me mad at you forever."
Jacob's smile lit up his entire being. "I'm going to get to go Above," he informed her. "I've been a few times at night. But I get to go
during the day this time. Grandfather wouldn't let me before but now, he will." They had begun to walk again and Diana found that Jacob kept up with her quite well.
"He will?" Diana asked, already seeing that Jacob had a plan. Seriousness had fallen upon her quickly, despite the cheerful company she shared.
"Uh huh. So I can get a special present...but I can't tell you who for cause it's a secret."
"A secret? I see," Diana smiled. She stopped again and asked, "Jacob? Can I ask a favor of you?"
"What?" Jacob asked, stopping also and looking up at her.
"I want you to stay Below for awhile."
"How long is awhile?" Jacob asked, closing one eye.
"It's important, Jacob. But I can't tell you. It's a secret. So could you postpone going Above awhile? Tell you what, when everything's okay...I'll ask if you can come and spend the day Above with me?"
"Really?" asked Jacob. This enticement was almost too much to bear.
Vincent appeared from around a bend in the tunnel almost like magic. "Thank you for your generous offer, Diana." Jacob greeted Vincent with pleasure not in the least surprised by his father's sudden appearance. Jacob's cheerfulness seemed to infect Vincent and he gave his son a playful tousle and asked, "Are you making our guest welcome?"
"Uh huh," Jacob said. He smiled swiftly. "Aren't you glad, Diana's back?" He turned to Diana, still hugging his father, and questioned, "Are you going to go away again? Can't you stay with us forever?"
"You haven't answered my question, Jacob," Diana replied, swiftly as the trio continued down through the corridor. Her back was to them both.
"Oh that," Jacob said. "Alright...for now I won't. But don't forget. You promise?"
"I won't," Diana promised.
"Oh!" Jacob looked at her apologetically. "I forgot. Bradley and I promised to help Mouse with his new project."
Vincent smiled. "Go ahead then. Be careful though."
"See you later, Diana."
"See you later, Jacob." Diana waved.
"You're very good with him," Vincent told her.
Diana shrugged off the compliment, slightly embarrassed. "I got to practice with my niece."
"You don't speak of them much. Your family."
"My work keeps me busy. It's not the kind of thing that makes good conversation. I keep in touch."
Vincent looked at her. "Something you did not feel the need to do with us."
Diana darted a glance at him and didn't answer. She wished she could explain everything to him. He was so grateful for everything she had done to help him in finding Jacob...in saving the Helpers...and Father when their lives had been threatened. But she had never told him why she had done the things she did, nor repeatedly taken the risks she had. She had never told him what he meant to her. Catherine Chandler was the woman he had loved and lost. How could she compare to that?
***
THE CENTRE
BLUE COVE, DELAWARE
Tech Room, Sub-Level 5
"Broots! I want a lead on Jarod and I want it now." Miss Parker stood looking over his shoulder at the computer screen.
"I'm sorry, Miss Parker," the computer tech flinched in his chair. His eyes had been glued to screens for hours. He was currently using his tracking program in search of the Centre's number one most wanted, Jarod. Before that, he had looked at news reports on channels all over the country. "These things take time."
"Patience, Miss Parker, patience," Sydney soothed. "When Jarod wants to contact us, he will."
"And you will tell me when he does, won't you, Syd?" Miss Parker questioned, raising her eyebrows.
Sydney only smiled at her and looked at his watch. "Coffee break," he said, standing up. He walked to his office and no sooner than he had sat down and reached for his mug, his cellular phone buzzed. "This is Sydney," he answered, hopefully.
His hopes were answered. It was Jarod. "Sydney. Sydney...if you know someone is hiding something that could be extremely important--how do you get them to tell you?"
"If the secret is valuable...then generally a person will hide it to protect either themselves or someone else. As you know Jarod, trust is not something you simply get. It has to be earned. How are you, Jarod? Is everything alright?"
There was pause at the other end of the line. "I'm going to make it right, Sydney." Jarod clicked the button on his phone and thought about what Sydney had said. Could Diana Bennett be protecting someone? Why else would she be so secretive?
"Here's your cappuccino shake," the waitress said. She headed off the question in Jarod's eyes. "It ain't really cappuccino. It just tastes like it. Anything else?" She studied the assorted cups on Jarod's table and shook her head.
Jarod gulped a bit of his shake. "Hmm...it's very good. Like ice cream and coffee all in one."
"Yeah. And when I was kid I thought coffee candy was the best."
"Really?" Jarod asked, looking extremely interested.
"No. I was just kidding."
"I mean they really make candies that come in this flavor?" Jarod asked, eagerly.
"Uh huh," the waitress shrugged. "Well...I've got other tables waiting."
"Alright," Jarod said. "Nothing else for me. Thanks." He slurped up the shake through a straw and looked out the window of the cafe onto the street.
Diana Bennett was on the sidewalk buying a hot dog from a vendor on the street. Presently, she walked in and slid into the seat of the booth facing him. Her ever present bag was slung over her shoulder. Her eyes were wide and serious. "I've checked around Jarod...I've been trying to follow some leads. All I reach are dead ends."
"You seem to reach a lot of dead ends," Jarod replied.
Something in his tone had made her look at the tabletop. It was a mess. Amongst the litter of empty cups and napkins, she noted that papers and folders were spread out before him. Some were notes he had scribbled. Some were reports he was reading. "Doing research," Diana observed. It was a statement, not a question. "What have you got?"
"Joe Maxwell told me you once had an idea when you were on the Chandler case. About hidden tunnels beneath the city. Do you think any could have been under Gabriel's mansion?" Jarod asked. He set his shake aside and picked up one of his scribbled notes.
Diana admitted, "I had some crazy idea once." She was on her toes. She shrugged. "I scrapped it."
Jarod peered at her darkly. "Why?"
"Obviously, they're of no consequence. Old tunnels get buried. Forgotten. Out with the old, in with the new. Same old story. I simply eliminated the possibility."
It almost sounded convincing. "Of what?"
"That it had anything to do with the case," Diana said. In the back of her mind an alarm bell was sounding. He was getting too close to the truth. She had to do something to stop him...before it was too late.
*******
THE CENTRE
Blue Cove, Delaware
BRRRING! BRINNG! Rubbing his eyes, Broots looked up from his computer keyboard and reached for the phone.
"Uh huh. Uh huh," Broots nodded with the phone to his ear. He took a pencil from behind his ear and scribbled something on a piece of paper. "Thanks a lot." He hung up, jumped up from his seat and trotted to Sydney's office. He spotted Sydney sitting behind his desk. Broots waved his note. "Sydney I..."
The note was snatched by a manicured hand. "Hmm...interesting. Good work, Broots." Miss Parker's heels clicked down the hallway. She turned around and smiled triumphantly at them both. "We're going to New York."
***
DIANA'S LOFT
Rap. Rap. Rap.
Diana jumped as if the rapping had been a gun report. "Oh," she sighed in relief as she looked up at her skylight and saw the familiar figure. She threw on her jacket and went out on the roof to meet him.
"Vincent! What are you doing here?" Diana peered around the panorama of the City at Night fearfully. Then, without waiting for an answer, she urged, "Come inside."
Diana shaded her windows and turned off a lamp. "Are you afraid of being watched?" Vincent asked as he padded into the loft, and stood in the middle of the room, his eyes following her worried actions.
"Yes," Diana admitted. She walked to her kitchenette and poured herself a glass of water. She offered Vincent one, but he declined. She was agitated but she was also patient and waited for him to explain his visit.
His explanation was a simple. "You haven't come Below for the past few days."
Diana nodded. She stared into her water glass. "I've been busy." She looked up at Vincent, who had begun to wander around the room. "Following a hunch. Remember that detective I told you about? He's not a detective. That was no surprise. Figured he was going by an assumed name. I made a few calls. Initiated a search on a man named Jarod...using his description. I even visited a few newspaper morgues around here. This is what I came up with."
Vincent stopped and turned towards her. She had his full attention.
Diana walked to her pegboard and pulled back the curtain that normally concealed her work. Upon the board were tacked up articles...highlighted in some of the texts was the name Jarod. In a few others, there were photographs of Jarod. There were photographs of people he had helped. There was an article that didn't mention Jarod's name at all, only an anonymous source, yet Diana had discovered a signature pattern and connected it somehow. Vincent studied the board intently and Diana watched as he read some of the articles and gazed at the different photos.
"This is...remarkable," Vincent said at last. "What does it mean?"
"I don't know," Diana admitted. "But I intend to find out."
***
D. A. 'S OFFICE
"So could I possibly have a few..." Jarod began.
"I heard you before. Say Jimmy. Get me the file on that Tyler case, k?" Joe Maxwell had his hands full. The D.A's office rarely had a moment to spare. Joe riffled through a bulky folder, scanning the cases and trying to decide what to designate to whom in the order of importance. "Uh, what's Bennett's opinion on this?"
"Sir, it wouldn't take a lot--"
"I know. Well..." Joe was thinking.
"Phone for you, Mr. Maxwell," someone walking by interjected.
"I'll take it in my office. We're spread a bit thin as it is. I'll think about it Holmes and get back to you." He'd talk to Diana about it first and see what she thought and get back to him.
More dead ends, Jarod thought. It didn't look as if Joe Maxwell was going to give him anyone to help with an investigative digging beneath the mansion. At least not anytime soon. And he was certain Bennett would work to veto the idea. Jarod sighed and sipped his last gulp of coffee then followed it up with a donut.
He turned around and nearly bumped into Diana as she walked into work. He brushed past her and headed for the door. "Hey Holmes? Where you headed?" Diana asked.
"I'm going to do a little digging." Jarod said, cryptically and bolted.
Undoubtedly, Diana would have pursued him but her phone rang. "Bennett here," she answered.
***
BELOW....
"I got here as soon as I could. What's up?" Diana asked.
Vincent, Father, and several others were gathered in the chamber.
"Mouse, you may tell her," Father said.
"Okay good. Okay fine," said the blond-haired young man. He pantomimed as he spoke. "Mouse see and hear much. Strangers on the streets. Strangers say, 'You seen this man?' Show Mouse picture. Mouse say 'No.' Strangers go. Mouse go and tell Vincent."
"It's true," said a cab driver. He was a Helper to those Below. "Black town cars have been all over the city. They've been combing the streets...looking for someone."
"Other Helpers have been reporting the same things," Father agreed. He looked at Vincent and Diana. "Do you have any idea what this is all about?"
Diana and Vincent exchanged a look. "I think we might," said Vincent.
"This photo," Diana addressed the cab driver in a steady voice. "What did it look like?"
"Ah. A man...I'd say in his thirties. Dark short hair. Brown eyes."
"Did he have a mole on his cheek under his eye?"
"Now that you mention it. Yeah. He did."
"Then, it was Jarod."
"Does this have anything to do with that lost boy?" Father interrupted Diana. "Those plain clothes police that would be out on the streets. Your people?"
"No," Diana shook her head. "Not my people. They wouldn't do anything so obviously covert." She couldn't help noticing the way Father had worded her question made her seem like an outsider. Your people. As if in some way she belonged elsewhere. She looked at Mouse and the cab driver. "What did they look like?"
"A man," Mouse said. "Serious face." Mouse rubbed his hair, flattening it with his hands. "Bald here. White hair here. Nice suit. He didn't talk. Just watched."
"And a lady," the cabbie added. "A mean one. Six-inch heels and a mouth that would chew you up and spit you out. She was wearing Armani."
"They were looking for Jarod," Diana stated. Why?
"Is the man some kind of criminal?" Father asked.
"Well then, the problems solved," said the cabbie. "We just let 'em have him."
"That may not be wise," Vincent replied. "We must consider our options carefully. There is something else we have not considered."
"What is that?" Father demanded.
"Perhaps we should tell him our secret," Vincent said, slowly.
"And endanger all of us!" Father spoke out. "Threaten our very way of life!"
"Calm down, Father. It is only a suggestion. Has this man done anything to show that he means us harm?" There was silence as shock waves moved through the group. Vincent's unruffled spirits brought calm. "We will simply consider all our options and convene later. Go now my friends. There is still time before a decision must be made."
Nodding to each other, the group dispersed, leaving only Vincent, Father and Diana.
"Oh yes. Well. I'll leave the decision up to you, Vincent," Father said, gruffly. He walked to the door. "Let it be the right one," he said before he disappeared down the passage.
"Vincent," Diana protested now that there was no one here to hear them. She crossed her arms. "It's true from my research that this man has done a lot of good but we don't know much about him. It could still be dangerous. There's no telling how he would react. What he would do. To Jacob. To you."
"Do you think I don't know what would happen if the world learned of my existence?" Vincent's blue eyes locked with hers. "Are you thinking it would be better to turn him over to these strangers who may mean him harm?"
Diana dropped her eyes. That was exactly what she was thinking. "To protect your world Vincent I...." She was ashamed of herself. There was nothing to indicate that Jarod had meant to interrupt their lives as he had done. In fact everything was indicative of the opposite. But still. It was her nature to question. Everything.
Vincent laid a comforting hand, claws retracted, on her shoulder. "I could have taken some advice long ago, Diana. In order to protect my world. And never have trusted you."
The impact of that thought was terrible. Diana up looked at him in surprise.
Vincent continued, "There are risks in everything we do, Diana. I do not know why but I feel as if I understand this man. How do we know we cannot trust Jarod unless first he is given a chance? From what you have told me, sooner or later, he will find his way to the tunnels...just as you did. If I had not trusted you I would never have found hope again."
Diana closed her eyes. Together they had found Gabriel and rescued Jacob and in doing so restored hope in the midst of Vincent's grief. Something they never could have done if Vincent had not trusted her. She opened her eyes and shook her head. "I wish I had as much faith in humanity as you do, Vincent."
***
Night had fallen. Jarod stole softly down the street. He had gone to the records hall and discovered from a employee there that there indeed were a network of unmapped tunnels beneath the city. The rest of the day he had spent planning an underground excursion.
Tonight, the Pretender was tailing the elusive Detective Bennett. She had been up ahead of him a moment ago, but now she had disappeared. He decided when she appeared once more he would confront her. He had spent too much time on this Pretend. There was no telling now when the Centre would catch up with him. And he never left a Pretend unfinished.
Diana stepped from the shaded corner of a brick building and faced him. Her wiry tall frame was hidden in her long coat. "I need to talk to you, Jarod."
She had beat him to the punch. "What about?"
"The little boy you're trying so hard to find. Why?"
"It's my job." Jarod's answer was evasive.
"It's personal to you, Jarod. Why is it so personal to you?" Diana took a few steps forward. She had the advantage now. "You feel alone. Displaced. You've lost something. A home. Family."
Jarod gave her a surprised look.
"That's my job," Diana said, steadily. "I look at fragments. Pieces. Rearranging them until I get a clear picture. Sometimes...I get inside people's heads. In order to figure something out I..."
"Become someone else." Jarod's brown eyes were sad for a moment. "Yes. I understand." He shook off the mood and continued, "But what I don't understand is why you are hiding what you know. Who do you think you're protecting?"
"Why are you pretending to be a detective?" probed Diana. She gave him a point blank stare. "Look. I don't know who you are. But what you're doing. It has to stop, Jarod. Because people will get hurt." Like Jacob. Like Father. Like all those who lived Below. Like Vincent!
Jarod frowned. "I am someone trying to save the life of a little boy. Someone who knows you're hiding the truth." He took a deep breath in frustration. "His father wasn't able to take care of him properly, but the young Michael Bradley Crafton still has a mother who loves him. He's just a boy. He still deserves a chance at a good life. Why do you keep impeding my investigation?" Diana Bennett struck him as someone who hated lies as much as he did. Yet, she seemed to block his efforts in finding the little boy at every turn.
"So what if I am?" Diana shot back. Something clicked and whirred in Diana's brain but it did not yet touch her conscious mind. She was losing her patience. As lengthy as it was the cord had been stretched taut. This match had to end and so far they had tied. She intended to hold onto the win with all her might. If it had to end, she would end it now. "Do you want me to tell Joe the truth about you? I'm guessing you know the penalty for impersonating an officer of the law. Then, what would happen to your investigation?" Move for move. Match for match. For every point made there was a counterpoint.
A buzzing sound came from Diana's pocket. She pulled out her cellular phone, glanced at Jarod, and answered it. "Yes? Where? Alright. Got it." A Helper just informed her that those strangers in black had been spotted in the area. The choice was now hers alone.
"I'll explain, Jarod. But you have to come with me. Please."
***
CENTRAL PARK
New York, NY
The two had only just entered the park when they were spotted. Jarod was instantly alert. Sweepers? Here? How could they have located him so quickly. Diana rushed into some of the foliage and motioned for him to follow swiftly. Footsteps ran toward them. In another second, the sweeper team would be upon them. Have them surrounded. Jarod's mouth went dry. He couldn't believe this was happening to him? Had Diana discovered about him more than she had let on? Had she lured him into this trap?
He ran after her but could no longer see her. The moonlight could not penetrate through the trees clearly here. He had lost her. She had deserted him to the sweeper team. There was no chance for escape. Not now. He could hear them coming. Surrounding. Closing in on him. The hunted man dived into some bushes and lay where he fell. Jarod held his breath and hoped they wouldn't see him.
A flashlight beam illuminated Jarod suddenly. The sweeper opened his mouth to call out.
"ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!" the nightmarish roar ripped through the shadows of the night and the darkness seemed to leap to life. The scream of a wild cat accompanied the action of the tangible shadow as the flashlight flew through the air and crashed against the tree. The bulb shattered and the cloak of darkness returned.
Jarod closed his eyes, trying to place the roar that seemed to come from all directions. The ground was damp beneath him. He heard the sound of footsteps again. Then, silence. The sweepers were fleeing. The motor of a car started somewhere in the distance, then sped away. Unseen by him now, the occupants of the car were shaking in their shoes and Miss Parker was snapping, "Can't you imbeciles tell the difference between an escaped lion and Boy Wonder?"
The strange terrifying noises had ceased in Central Park. Jarod still lay beneath the bushes on the ground. Wondering. Dazed. His head ached slightly from where he had hit it during the dive for cover.
"Is this he?" a velvety voice came from the shadows.
Jarod looked upwards to see that Diana had returned. She was standing over him. She nodded to the voice and he could see a shadowy figure.
The shadow spoke again. "Do not be alarmed. You are quite safe. I have been waiting to meet you. I understand that you had a question as to what had happened to a missing baby. Catherine Chandler's son."
At the sound of the voice, Jarod got to his knees and then stood up. His heart was still pounding like a hammer. "Who are you?" Jarod asked the shadow. He turned to Diana. "What was that?" he demanded. He turned again to the shadow.
As tempting as it was, Diana had not been able to betray him. She had brought help to save Jarod from the strangers that pursued him. Sometimes you have to take risks, Diana thought. Like trusting someone. "You wanted to know what happened to the baby. This is his father. Vincent."
The shadow moved. A tall cloaked figure stepped from the shadows to where the moonlight illuminated some of his features. Jarod's mouth opened. He was stunned. A massive man stood there. A thick blond mane could be glimpsed under the hood of his cloak and blue eyes watched him. Human eyes staring from the face of a beast.
Then, Jarod closed his mouth and held out his hand. Vincent took it and they shook hands. "Thank you for your help," Jarod breathed. "Meeting you...is an experience."
"You can come out," Vincent said. From the bushes, a young boy walked forward. "This is my son, Jacob," Vincent introduced.
Jarod knelt down to the boy's level. "Hi, Jacob," he smiled. "You can call me, Jarod."
Just Jarod, Diana noted. She knew Holmes was an alias. Now she understood. Jarod hadn't wanted his strange pursuers to find him. Yet, he was willing to take the risks of lingering in the city as they closed in upon him. He honestly had wanted to help find the lost little boy.
"Hi Jarod," Jacob replied. He glanced at Diana. "That's why I couldn't go Above," he laughed softly. "Because he was looking for me?" This was undoubtedly a normal eight-year old boy who was well-cared for and filled with the simple joy of living.
Jarod stood up again and remembered Diana. "You really don't know where Mikey is. That is not at all what you were hiding." He was sorry he had ever believed that of her.She was not merely another corrupt detective who needed to be taught a lesson. She was a woman who would keep a secret to protect her friends. His questions about the ironic nature of her character had been answered.
The thought that had been wavering just beyond Diana's reach suddenly took a flying leap. "I don't know why I didn't catch it before!" Diana exclaimed. Her eyes grew very wide. "Jarod! Do you still have that photo of Mikey?"
"Yes," Jarod drew the photograph from his jacket and handed it to her.
"What is it, Diana?" Vincent asked, noting her unusually strange excitement.
"A man on the run," Diana stated, ever the detective. "With a boy everyone was looking for. There is a strong possibility that he would change the child's name to avoid detection. Try to erase the child's past identity. Vincent--you said there were no Mikes or Mikey's taking refuge in the tunnels."
"Yes," Vincent agreed.
Diana held out the photograph to him. "Do you recognize this face?"
Vincent took the photo from her. "Why! This is..."
"Bradley," said Vincent and Diana together.
"Yes, Bradley," Diana repeated. She turned to Jarod. "You told me that Michael B. Crafton had a son named Mikey. Michael Bradley Crafton. His son was his namesake." Her mind went back to when she had been Below with Vincent and Jacob. They had mentioned a Bradley then. "He has been in the tunnels all along. I just didn't realize it until now."
"Mikey's been with you?" Jarod questioned Vincent. He raised his eyebrows. His Pretend had not failed then. He had been right.
"Yes. One of our Helpers found him...near the old mansion. He was lost and fearful and in need of help. He brought him into the tunnels and he's been quite safe ever since. He told us his name was Bradley but was still too frightened to tell us much else. Come Jacob, let us go and tell him. He'll be going home to his mother." Vincent looked at Jarod. "This mystery is solved. I scared your uninvited guests, but they escaped unharmed. Do you think they'll be back?"
"Yes. I mean no," Jarod replied. "The mystery is solved. They won't be back. I'll...make sure." There were a thousand questions he would have liked to have asked but somehow they weren't important. Jarod saw Vincent looking at him as if he understood and perhaps even felt the same curiosity about Jarod's own life history. Jarod felt a sense of calm settling upon him. Things were right once more.
"Good-bye Jarod."
"Good-bye Vincent."
Vincent turned to Jacob and put his arm around his son's shoulders. They walked off together into the night.
"Jarod," Diana began.
Jarod turned from looking in awe after the departing forms that faded into the shadows. "I'll keep this a secret. I'm very good with secrets," he assured her. Diana was solemn. She, too, watched the departing figures. Vincent, Jacob and the rest who dwelled Below were safe. Suddenly, her face broke into a smile.
"At first sight, he doesn't look it but he's really a very caring and loving man."
Jarod nodded. "And the man that you love," he added.
Diana didn't know what to say. "He...d-doesn't know that," she stumbled.
Jarod gave her a knowing smile. "I think he does."
THE END
by Leah
Copyright 1999
D.A BUILDING
Joe Maxwell's Office
"Catherine Chandler's case has been reopened." She hadn't wanted to believe it when she had been first called in over the telephone. She hadn't wanted to believe it when she got on the plane and flew into New York. She hadn't wanted to believe it when she was riding in the taxi to the D.A.'s offices. But now as she stood in Joe Maxwell's office and said this very thing she knew it to be true and any last lingering doubt vanished as Joe nodded his head.
"That's right. One aspect of it anyways," Joe said. He was sitting behind his desk.
"But what about..." Diana began to say.
"We have new evidence that's been brought to our attention...a new case that goes back to the old one," Joe explained and his eyes looked past Diana towards the door. She turned to see. "Here's someone I'd like you to meet. Detective Holmes this is Detective Bennet."
"Detective," the man in his late thirties nodded at her. "You can call me Jarod." His brown eyes looked her over, a bit suspiciously, she thought. His attitude was cool and his brown hair was short but spiky.
Diana acknowledged him and then turned once again to Joe. "But we already know about--Cathy's murderer. There are no grounds for reopening her case." She wasn't able to bring herself to say the dreadful name of Gabriel. Now THAT was someone she'd rather forget.
Joe motioned for the two to sit down. Diana sat, or rather fell into a chair, draping her jacket over her knees. As usual, she was wearing blue jeans and a blue sweater. Jarod sat down in another chair and seemed ready to speak. He gave a questioning look to Joe.
"Alright Bennett," Joe said, folding his hands on the table. "Detective Holmes' specialty is investigating older cases when new evidence comes to light. Apparently, one of his investigations brought him to Cathy's files and something we missed." With that, Joe gave Jarod the floor.
Jarod stood up and held out a snapshot to her. She looked at it. It was a grey-eyed, brown-haired boy. He looked about seven years old. "His name is Mikey. He was taken illegally by his father. His father was apprehended but the boy is still missing. I've been tracking the boy. He's in this part of New York. Several people have identified him. Apparently, he was living on the streets and police chased him when he was seen pickpocketing. They didn't catch him. He's disappeared and no one has seen him in three days."
Diana nodded. She intently studied the face of the boy, his clothes, and Jarod's demeanor as he told the story. "What has that got to do with Cathy's case?"
"Mikey was last seen here." Jarod held out another photo to her and she took it. It was a large building. She recognized it immediately.
"This fact brought to light that this is not the first time someone has disappeared near here."
"What?" Diana asked. The little boy had been alone on the streets, she was thinking. Jarod was spending a lot of time trying to find him. Why was that? Children disappeared every day.
"The baby," Jarod replied.
"The baby?" Diana repeated. "Catherine Chandler's baby?" What did Jacob have to do with this?
"Yes," Jarod replied, reemphasizing his words and apparently studying her reaction. "The baby Catherine Chandler delivered before she died was never found. Now, Catherine Chandler's murderer had kidnapped the infant?"
Diana looked at Joe. Was this man actually questioning her?
Joe caught her meaning. "Look," he said. "I told Holmes how you worked on the Chandler case. You were closer to it than all of us. I figured you wouldn't mind answering a few questions."
"You have the report," Diana retorted. She took a serious look at this Detective Holmes, what a name, and decided immediately that something definitely was afoot with this character.
Joe caught the edge in her voice and knew now was the time to step lightly. "As a favor to me, I'd like you to work with him on this."
Diana stood up. "You want to know what happened to the baby. Alright." Joe began to relax. "I'll do it. But I'll do it alone."
Joe shot straight up in his seat and his annoyance was plain. "I called you because I know how close you got on this case. You knew more than any of us and..." he paused and Diana knew he wanted to add 'and there were secrets you never told.' He would not accuse her in front of another. He had too much respect for her to do that. "I didn't have to call you but I did...because I figured you would want to know. By all rights, it's still your case. If not for me, then for Cathy. For her child. Come on. Work with me on this."
Diana considered for a moment. She was doing this for Jacob's sake. The last thing she wanted them to do was to find Jacob. If she accepted well...but if she did not accept and somehow the investigators found out...Diana sat back down and crossed her arms. "Alright. Yes, Cathy was kept alive until the baby was delivered. Gabriel..." she paused as the name still sent shivers down her spine. "Wanted to adopt him as his own son."
"There was an empty crib in the room where," Jarod's voice ran on quickly, "his body was found." Diana tried to keep from wincing. Thankfully, he omitted reviewing how Gabriel's death had come about. "One of the other bodies found in the house was a doctor."
"That's right. The child had been sick," Diana replied. "I know because Gabriel kidnapped me and told me." This was also in her report. She had written her report with as many facts as possible. As long as the facts didn't reveal the secret, she had kept them true to life. As for the rest, well, she had let the police and D.A.'s offices fill in the blanks with their own assumptions.
"And you saw him?" Jarod questioned.
"Yes."
"The baby?"
"Yes. I saw both of them." Stick to the truth. Stick to the truth as long as it doesn't lead them anywhere. "What you're asking me about happened almost eight years ago. The boy you're looking for just disappeared." She brushed a few strands of hair back. "How can you see a connection?"
"Can you say that there isn't one?" Jarod countered.
Joe broke in. "Obviously it's gonna take some time to work out all the little details. When you come up with some breaking news let me know about it, k? Here's the info on the case." Joe held out several manila folders to Diana. She took them. "Get to work," Joe waved them away.
Diana nodded, hiding her relief and stood up. Jarod already had reached the door and held it open for her. She walked past him and he followed. When they reached the lobby of the building, she turned on him. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I have to go. I just got back into town and there's a few things I need to take care of." Diana knew she sounded very abrupt and it probably seemed like she couldn't wait to get rid of him. (which wasn't to far from the truth.) She paused momentarily as Jarod took a Pez canister and popped a piece in his mouth.
"Want one? They're very good," Jarod interjected, holding out the canister.
"I'm sorry," Diana began again. "I'm used to setting my own pace. It's going to take some getting used to." She shook her head and suppressed an urge to smile. This boyish incongruency in Detective Holmes was amusing and--odd. Diana studied him a moment. She immediately knew that she wasn't dealing with your ordinary detective. And she had known quite a few in her line of work.
Jarod smiled at her and put the canister away. "I still need to ask you some questions. Parts of your report seemed a bit a sketchy and I'll be happy if you could help me fill in the details. Perhaps later? After you've taken care of what you need to take care of, of course."
"I'll meet you tomorrow morning for coffee. There's a cafe down the street. We'll talk then. Eight sharp," Diana tossed this over her shoulder as she went out the door. She walked quickly and chose against hailing a cab so she could let off some steam.
Catherine Chandler's case has been reopened. Nothing short of that could have induced her to come back to New York City. She remembered back to the day she had left, two years ago and hadn't set foot inside the city since. Chicago had been her domain during the period after that. She had found plenty of work to occupy her there, while she tried to forget. But she hadn't forgotten. For to admit the truth, she didn't want to forget and she had planned to suffer in silence for the rest of her life. But now...She pressed the thought away and began to unpack.
She looked around the loft. Things were nearly as she had left them. Perhaps it was sentimental of her but she had never fully let the loft
go. She had kept it even several months after moving to Chicago. And as soon as she had known she was returning, she had called, found out it was vacant, and taken it again. She unpacked her computer and set it up in the space her old one had occupied once before. She turned it on and brought up her diary. She read her previous entry:
Oct. 27, 1997 Monday--I'm going back to where the nightmare began. Joe says they reopened Cathy's case. Don't know why. Joe was pretty cryptic over the phone so I know it's something serious. I have to go back. I made a promise to Vincent. I must keep it.
Vincent. He had to know about this. She had to tell him. Tonight.
******
BELOW THE STREETS OF NEW YORK CITY
It seemed like a dream as she descended down a ladder after replacing the cover of a manhole and switched on a flashlight. The beam cut through the darkness and she walked warily, trying to remain as silent a possible. At last her ears picked a sound which could have simply been a rattling noise that pipes often make but her trained senses knew it to be something more. The music of the tunnels...the message system of all who lived Below and the alarm relay of the sentries who guarded the entrance to this world. The system had fascinated her and Pascal, Keeper of the Pipes, had taught her some of it. She walked along the pipe and then took her flashlight and struck it, paused and then struck it again.
She hoped she had remembered the proper code. Even if her efforts were merely gibberish...she knew it would alert them to the presence of someone who knew their secret.
Instantly, the music of the pipes stopped and Diana's ears strained as she called out, "It's me. Diana. I have to see Vincent." She knew that invisible sentries listened. The noises of the pipes began again. Not long thereafter she heard footsteps and from the darkness stepped...
"Jaime," Diana breathed in relief. Despite her purpose, she was almost glad she didn't have to face Vincent yet.
Jaime held up a lantern. "Diana?" she asked. "I didn't believe it was you when I heard it. What are you doing here? Everyone will be glad to see you. You've been missed. Why didn't you come by a shorter way?" Jaime, who had been in her teens when Diana first met her, had now blossomed into a full-grown woman. She smiled as she asked the question and there was welcome in her voice.
"It was important," was all Diana would say. She allowed herself a small smile. She had deliberately avoided entering through the drainage tunnel in Central Park. She had had a...feeling. As if she might be followed. She had wandered about, weaving a trail so complex, so reversed and looped that even she had almost lost herself before arriving here.
"I need to see Vincent." Why worry Jaime unless she knew for certain?
"Okay," Jaime said, turning to light the path and lead the way. She was not worried over the fact her question hadn't been answered. Although those Below had finally welcomed Diana into their midst, she had always remained a little mysterious and aloof. She liked her privacy. And they of all people respected and accepted privacy. She was Vincent's friend returning for a visit. That limited knowledge, for now, was enough.
It was not enough for Jacob Wells, lovingly called "Father" by all of his friends below. He was leader, mentor, and guide of those who dwelled in this underground world. And he wouldn't accept anything less than the whole truth. His hair once brown had become a mousy gray along with his mustache and beard. His eyes were sharp and keen and he was rarely seen without a book in his hand...unless he was playing or teaching his favorite game of strategy--chess.
"Hello, Diana," Father said, when she appeared in the threshold and he had dismissed Jaime. He accented words by thumping the books he was stacking. "Vincent's," THUMP!--"not here. Gone." THUMP! "Looking for you." THUMP!
"Me?" Diana began to question, but another thump cut her off.
"Yes." The thumping paused as Father rubbed his beard and actually looked at her. "Helper spotted you. Above." Diana could see him collecting his thoughts and torn between welcoming her or actually showing the irritation he felt. Father definitely was angry. She could tell.
He's still trying to protect Vincent. Thinks of me as a threat. Diana moved forward into the room and fingered one of the books he had been stacking. She kept her voice calm. Low. Detached. "I didn't mean to upset you, Father. I know it must have been hard when I left." Her words brought the matter to the surface as they had been intended to do.
"Hard? Did you think of Jacob? Of Vincent? Of any of your friends?" Father sputtered.
"I'm back now," Diana replied, folding her arms defensively. She had tried not to seem unfeeling. The emotions that had arisen were too great to deal with at the moment. Yes, she had wanted to scream. Of course I was thinking of you. I was thinking of all of you. That's why I left. Then, why not say it? A voice bobbed up inside of her head. Certainly wouldn't hurt to try. Certainly wouldn't do any more harm than had already been done. But the old reservations came back and she chose an alternative explanation...which was also true. "It was better that I go. I have my work and it's dangerous. If I'm not welcome...."
"You are always welcome here, Diana." The silken voice boomed behind her and a new atmosphere rushed into and filled the room. For a moment, time stopped. In the threshold loomed a massive figure dressed in layers of clothing. Blue eyes twinkled at her. Human eyes. Which were oddly out of place to go along with the lion-like face. The face of a beast.
"Vincent," Diana breathed.
Vincent cocked his head towards her in a questioning gesture. The wheels of time began turning again. "Forgive Father, but it came as quite a shock to us that you were back. How are you?" he asked, gently. Her face must have momentarily betrayed her for he moved closer immediately and his low voice now had a whisper of urgency, "What is it, Diana? Tell me."
"I have news," Diana said. Of course she had news! Stay calm. Don't spring it on them all at once. Vincent could take it, but Father was upset enough already. "It's about Jacob."
"Jacob?" Vincent and Father said in unison. Father sat down in his chair at the table.
Diana began to pace the room, slowly as she spoke, "There's an investigation going and they're looking for Jacob. I've agreed to help them. I don't know how far this thing will go, but things could get pretty ugly. There's another detective working on the case. I thought you should know." There was no use going into details unless pressed for them.
Father was looking absolutely horrified. "But....they don't even know what the child looks like!"
"I know," Diana replied. "They'll start checking. Orphanages. Foster homes. Homeless shelters. They'll put plains clothes out on the street. Asking questions. Looking for children of the correct age. Ones with blank histories."
"Why?" Vincent asked and somehow Diana felt all the anxiety that came with it.
"Because another boy has disappeared and the police haven't found him. The way they see it, Jacob still is missing and the police never found him. Because it's a similar case. They have no idea that Jacob's safe with a family who loves him," she said this more for Father's benefit than Vincent's. Vincent knew what this meant. "It won't be a good idea for Jacob to go above. At least not for awhile." Diana thought quickly. Her large eyes widened. She looked at each of them. "Do either of you know of a boy named Mikey? Perhaps he found his way here? He had been living on the street?" she asked in earnest.
Father frowned. Vincent shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, Diana. We have had new arrivals. Bradley. David. Jackson. No Mikes nor Mikeys."
"Thank you, Diana," Father replied, all his past resentment for her desertion vanished. "I must go call a meeting." Father departed.
Vincent was watching her attentively now. "Something more worries you."
Diana looked up at him and sighed. "Yes. This detective. He suspects something. I think he figures I know more than I've let on. It's going to be difficult."
"Things are rarely easy," Vincent replied.
How true! Vincent always had a way of speaking that hit the nail right on the head. In her admiration, she waited too long to reply and an uncomfortable silence crept in upon them. Vincent was looking at her in that dear way he had, that made you want to help him. Made you want to let down all your defenses and pour out your heart, knowing that he would understand and listen. But no time for that now. Clear your head and forget your own troubles. Help Vincent.
She broke the silence. "I'm meeting him tomorrow."
Her tone must have been regretful, for immediately Vincent's gaze became penetrating. "I do not blame him, Diana. Neither should you. He is merely doing his job. Doing that which he believes is right."
How could Vincent do that? Such faith, such trust in human beings. She had never put that much stock in anyone. At least, not until she had met him. "Maybe," Diana shrugged. She had her own suspicions in that quarter, but she would not mention any unproved suspicions yet.
"And you must do yours," Vincent continued, as if reading her thoughts.
"Yes." She suddenly felt claustrophobic. She changed the subject. "How is Jacob?"
"Asleep." The reply was gruff. Abrupt. Perhaps even a note of irritation.
"Oh." A heart throb. Disappointment.
"As active as any child his age but just as thoughtful. And...." he held the words on his tongue a moment before releasing them, "....he misses you."
"Oh." A heart leap. Hope. "I've missed him too." She made a motion towards the door. "Gotta go."
"I'll walk you out. The world Below is constantly changing and the tunnels change with it." They walked for the most part in silence until they reached a ladder which led above. "Come again, Diana. Jacob and the other children would like very much to see you."
***
CAFE
7:37 A.M.
"Coffee? Latté? Or cappuccino?" the waitress asked.
"Cappuccino?" Jarod looked up from viewing the breakfast menu. "What's that?"
"Oh brother. You're kidding, right?" Her pen was poised over the notepad, waiting to scribble down the order.
"No," Jarod replied. "They didn't have it where I grew up."
"What planet did you grow up on?" the waitress countered. "It's part of the decade....the 90's. You know, bagels, lattés, cappuccinos. A cappuccino is flavored coffee but betta. It's all foamy. It's got milk in it. A cappuccino. Now, do you want one or what?"
"Yes, please," Jarod replied.
The waitress gaped at him. Manners? The gentleman from outer space wants cappuccino. Fine. "Want a flava? Hazelnut? Irish Cream? French Vanilla?"
"Three of those."
"Three?" in a shocked tone. "Different ones?"
"Yes, please."
The pen went to work. Three caps each with a different flavor. He had gone from never hearing of cappuccino to wanting three! But the customer is always right...yeah right. This was New York. She better get a big tip for this one. Yes sir re.
Jarod set aside his menu and drew a folder from his jacket. He opened it flipped several pages over. There were articles about Catherine Chandler's murder and a detailed analysis of the autopsy. There were pictures of the house where the persons involved in and Gabriel, the one responsible for her death, had been apprehended. The first on the scene had been Detective Diana Bennet. The rest of the law enforcement crew had arrived afterwards. Pictures stood out in his mind. The empty crib. The nursery. From the data he had collected Gabriel had evidently viewed the baby as his prize possession. Why so, that was unclear. In the empty nursery, Gabriel had died. Where was the baby? Gabriel had not fled from the house and Jarod was positive if he had...the villain would have taken the baby with him. That would easily explain the empty crib. But he hadn't. So it didn't.
******
7:50 A.M.
Jarod was sipping his first cup of cappuccino when Diana Bennett walked in the door. She sat down opposite him, laying her duffel bag beside her in the booth. Her eyes were brighter than they had been the day before as if she had experienced something both painful and pleasant. The hidden anxiety Jarod had sensed from her yesterday was still there, but now more controlled. She looked at the cup in his hand and the two others sitting in front of him and made no comment. Her attitude seemed to say to him; I'm here. Now what?
"You're early," Jarod commented, by way of opening the conversation. She had struck him as very punctual person and he'd expected her to come at exactly eight o'clock. This woman puzzled him...and she was exceeding his expectations, testing his Pretender skills. He hadn't been able to follow her last night. Somehow, she'd eluded his surveillance...and that didn't happen too often. "Care for a cappuccino? It's very good."
"The early bird catches the worm," Diana stated, solemnly. Her tone said; You're early too. The waitress came and set her cup of black coffee down in front of her. It was her usual. "I'm covered," Diana replied to Jarod's question, cradling the cup in her hands and then setting it down again.
"Take care of that business you had the other day?"
"Yes." Her eyes narrowed. She took a hot sip of caffeine and changed the subject. "Why are you so interested in a child that disappeared years ago?"
"Aren't you?" Jarod's eyebrows raised. "Every child deserves to be in a home where someone loves them and takes care of them."
"Of course." That was the very reason she had to keep Jacob from being found! With an effort, she took another sip of coffee and said, "The child might be dead. We could be chasing a memory." Forgive her for these insinuations...for these misleading comments. She hated to make them. But she had to!
"There was no body found. You all searched the house thoroughly, of course."
Diana nodded, but her eyes skipped away from his face for just a moment. If he hadn't been studying her face so intensely he would have missed it. So Miss Bennett, could there be something at the house that had been missed? He pressed farther, "But of course, I forgot. It's all in the report, right?"
Diana kept the cup to her lips and then set it down slowly. Now, it was the game of the spider and the fly. The question being who was the spider and who was the fly? Which tangled web would unravel first? Diana traced the pattern on her placemat with her finger and said, "There's some things I want to ask you too. Why were you looking for Mikey?" She gazed at him.
"That's my case," Jarod replied, but he was pleased with her question.
"I know. But you were getting ready to transfer to another department. Why the sudden change of heart, Detective Holmes?" She used the name deliberately and watched him squirm. It wasn't much of a squirm, but she saw it.
"You've been checking up on me," Jarod smiled. She was smart, he'd give her that. "Mikey's mother lost him three months ago. They were at a supermarket. He was at her side one minute and the next, he was gone. Can you imagine how that feels? To have a child ripped away from you? As soon as I learned of the case, I felt I had to help."
He seems to take this so personally, Diana pondered to herself. "How did
you find out he was here?" She had been up most the night after her confrontation with Vincent and Father, reviewing the details of Mikey's case. Mikey had disappeared. His father, Micheal B. Crafton, a man involved in illegal activities, was the chief suspect. Mikey's father had been apprehended but Mikey had remained lost. She knew the report now by heart. But it was better if Jarod told her.
"I have methods," Jarod replied. "A boy, matching his description, was in a foster home. He ranaway. From there, as I told you before, he was living on his own. Now he's vanished without a trace in the same place that Catherine Chandler's baby vanished years ago." Explain that to me, Miss Bennett, Jarod thought as he reached for his third cup of cappuccino. Where had she gone last night and why was she so anxious to keep anyone from following her?
**********
LATER THAT DAY...
Jarod walked through the halls of the mansion, examining every inch and level of the house. Through his mind flashed images of what must of happened that day. He stared long and hard at the cage and the place where a camera had once rested. He remembered the reports he had read. "Someone else was held captive besides the child," Jarod whispered to himself. "Who that was is unknown." The upper regions of the house had offered no real clues. But the basement had been apparently abandoned and forgotten by the mansion's current caretakers. And then he found it.
The pipe.
Whoever had sealed it must have been a master because if he hadn't been so used to looking for escapes he would have never noticed it. Someone had taken extra pains to make it look as if the pipe had been sealed as long as the others, however Jarod's trained eye noted it could not have been sealed long. Someone could crawl through there. Someone had gone through there. But to where?
This merited further research.
BELOW. . . .
"Diana!" the voice was youthful, sweet, and downright charming. Eight-year old Jacob had spotted her and come running. "Where have you been?" he asked. "I wanted to go visit you but my dad said you were coming here." The boy took Diana's hand and gazed up at her in a confiding manner
"I had to work," Diana tried to explain. She smiled down at him and then said, "So, what have you been up to?"
"I learned to swim while you were gone," Jacob said with pride. "My father taught me. But Diana, why'd you go away? Was it me?"
"You?" Diana stopped in surprise. "Why no, Jacob. It wasn't you." She knelt down to make his face level with her own. "Why would you think that?"
"You left because you were upset," the boy replied wisely. "I thought it might be me. I made you sad. So that's why you went away."
Diana looked into the blue eyes for a moment. Could the mind of a six-year old possibly have picked up on the inner torment she had felt when she left? Then, she recalled that Jacob, like his father, was blessed with remarkable empathetic ability. "Jacob, you're my pal. Nothing you could ever do would make me mad at you forever."
Jacob's smile lit up his entire being. "I'm going to get to go Above," he informed her. "I've been a few times at night. But I get to go
during the day this time. Grandfather wouldn't let me before but now, he will." They had begun to walk again and Diana found that Jacob kept up with her quite well.
"He will?" Diana asked, already seeing that Jacob had a plan. Seriousness had fallen upon her quickly, despite the cheerful company she shared.
"Uh huh. So I can get a special present...but I can't tell you who for cause it's a secret."
"A secret? I see," Diana smiled. She stopped again and asked, "Jacob? Can I ask a favor of you?"
"What?" Jacob asked, stopping also and looking up at her.
"I want you to stay Below for awhile."
"How long is awhile?" Jacob asked, closing one eye.
"It's important, Jacob. But I can't tell you. It's a secret. So could you postpone going Above awhile? Tell you what, when everything's okay...I'll ask if you can come and spend the day Above with me?"
"Really?" asked Jacob. This enticement was almost too much to bear.
Vincent appeared from around a bend in the tunnel almost like magic. "Thank you for your generous offer, Diana." Jacob greeted Vincent with pleasure not in the least surprised by his father's sudden appearance. Jacob's cheerfulness seemed to infect Vincent and he gave his son a playful tousle and asked, "Are you making our guest welcome?"
"Uh huh," Jacob said. He smiled swiftly. "Aren't you glad, Diana's back?" He turned to Diana, still hugging his father, and questioned, "Are you going to go away again? Can't you stay with us forever?"
"You haven't answered my question, Jacob," Diana replied, swiftly as the trio continued down through the corridor. Her back was to them both.
"Oh that," Jacob said. "Alright...for now I won't. But don't forget. You promise?"
"I won't," Diana promised.
"Oh!" Jacob looked at her apologetically. "I forgot. Bradley and I promised to help Mouse with his new project."
Vincent smiled. "Go ahead then. Be careful though."
"See you later, Diana."
"See you later, Jacob." Diana waved.
"You're very good with him," Vincent told her.
Diana shrugged off the compliment, slightly embarrassed. "I got to practice with my niece."
"You don't speak of them much. Your family."
"My work keeps me busy. It's not the kind of thing that makes good conversation. I keep in touch."
Vincent looked at her. "Something you did not feel the need to do with us."
Diana darted a glance at him and didn't answer. She wished she could explain everything to him. He was so grateful for everything she had done to help him in finding Jacob...in saving the Helpers...and Father when their lives had been threatened. But she had never told him why she had done the things she did, nor repeatedly taken the risks she had. She had never told him what he meant to her. Catherine Chandler was the woman he had loved and lost. How could she compare to that?
***
THE CENTRE
BLUE COVE, DELAWARE
Tech Room, Sub-Level 5
"Broots! I want a lead on Jarod and I want it now." Miss Parker stood looking over his shoulder at the computer screen.
"I'm sorry, Miss Parker," the computer tech flinched in his chair. His eyes had been glued to screens for hours. He was currently using his tracking program in search of the Centre's number one most wanted, Jarod. Before that, he had looked at news reports on channels all over the country. "These things take time."
"Patience, Miss Parker, patience," Sydney soothed. "When Jarod wants to contact us, he will."
"And you will tell me when he does, won't you, Syd?" Miss Parker questioned, raising her eyebrows.
Sydney only smiled at her and looked at his watch. "Coffee break," he said, standing up. He walked to his office and no sooner than he had sat down and reached for his mug, his cellular phone buzzed. "This is Sydney," he answered, hopefully.
His hopes were answered. It was Jarod. "Sydney. Sydney...if you know someone is hiding something that could be extremely important--how do you get them to tell you?"
"If the secret is valuable...then generally a person will hide it to protect either themselves or someone else. As you know Jarod, trust is not something you simply get. It has to be earned. How are you, Jarod? Is everything alright?"
There was pause at the other end of the line. "I'm going to make it right, Sydney." Jarod clicked the button on his phone and thought about what Sydney had said. Could Diana Bennett be protecting someone? Why else would she be so secretive?
"Here's your cappuccino shake," the waitress said. She headed off the question in Jarod's eyes. "It ain't really cappuccino. It just tastes like it. Anything else?" She studied the assorted cups on Jarod's table and shook her head.
Jarod gulped a bit of his shake. "Hmm...it's very good. Like ice cream and coffee all in one."
"Yeah. And when I was kid I thought coffee candy was the best."
"Really?" Jarod asked, looking extremely interested.
"No. I was just kidding."
"I mean they really make candies that come in this flavor?" Jarod asked, eagerly.
"Uh huh," the waitress shrugged. "Well...I've got other tables waiting."
"Alright," Jarod said. "Nothing else for me. Thanks." He slurped up the shake through a straw and looked out the window of the cafe onto the street.
Diana Bennett was on the sidewalk buying a hot dog from a vendor on the street. Presently, she walked in and slid into the seat of the booth facing him. Her ever present bag was slung over her shoulder. Her eyes were wide and serious. "I've checked around Jarod...I've been trying to follow some leads. All I reach are dead ends."
"You seem to reach a lot of dead ends," Jarod replied.
Something in his tone had made her look at the tabletop. It was a mess. Amongst the litter of empty cups and napkins, she noted that papers and folders were spread out before him. Some were notes he had scribbled. Some were reports he was reading. "Doing research," Diana observed. It was a statement, not a question. "What have you got?"
"Joe Maxwell told me you once had an idea when you were on the Chandler case. About hidden tunnels beneath the city. Do you think any could have been under Gabriel's mansion?" Jarod asked. He set his shake aside and picked up one of his scribbled notes.
Diana admitted, "I had some crazy idea once." She was on her toes. She shrugged. "I scrapped it."
Jarod peered at her darkly. "Why?"
"Obviously, they're of no consequence. Old tunnels get buried. Forgotten. Out with the old, in with the new. Same old story. I simply eliminated the possibility."
It almost sounded convincing. "Of what?"
"That it had anything to do with the case," Diana said. In the back of her mind an alarm bell was sounding. He was getting too close to the truth. She had to do something to stop him...before it was too late.
*******
THE CENTRE
Blue Cove, Delaware
BRRRING! BRINNG! Rubbing his eyes, Broots looked up from his computer keyboard and reached for the phone.
"Uh huh. Uh huh," Broots nodded with the phone to his ear. He took a pencil from behind his ear and scribbled something on a piece of paper. "Thanks a lot." He hung up, jumped up from his seat and trotted to Sydney's office. He spotted Sydney sitting behind his desk. Broots waved his note. "Sydney I..."
The note was snatched by a manicured hand. "Hmm...interesting. Good work, Broots." Miss Parker's heels clicked down the hallway. She turned around and smiled triumphantly at them both. "We're going to New York."
***
DIANA'S LOFT
Rap. Rap. Rap.
Diana jumped as if the rapping had been a gun report. "Oh," she sighed in relief as she looked up at her skylight and saw the familiar figure. She threw on her jacket and went out on the roof to meet him.
"Vincent! What are you doing here?" Diana peered around the panorama of the City at Night fearfully. Then, without waiting for an answer, she urged, "Come inside."
Diana shaded her windows and turned off a lamp. "Are you afraid of being watched?" Vincent asked as he padded into the loft, and stood in the middle of the room, his eyes following her worried actions.
"Yes," Diana admitted. She walked to her kitchenette and poured herself a glass of water. She offered Vincent one, but he declined. She was agitated but she was also patient and waited for him to explain his visit.
His explanation was a simple. "You haven't come Below for the past few days."
Diana nodded. She stared into her water glass. "I've been busy." She looked up at Vincent, who had begun to wander around the room. "Following a hunch. Remember that detective I told you about? He's not a detective. That was no surprise. Figured he was going by an assumed name. I made a few calls. Initiated a search on a man named Jarod...using his description. I even visited a few newspaper morgues around here. This is what I came up with."
Vincent stopped and turned towards her. She had his full attention.
Diana walked to her pegboard and pulled back the curtain that normally concealed her work. Upon the board were tacked up articles...highlighted in some of the texts was the name Jarod. In a few others, there were photographs of Jarod. There were photographs of people he had helped. There was an article that didn't mention Jarod's name at all, only an anonymous source, yet Diana had discovered a signature pattern and connected it somehow. Vincent studied the board intently and Diana watched as he read some of the articles and gazed at the different photos.
"This is...remarkable," Vincent said at last. "What does it mean?"
"I don't know," Diana admitted. "But I intend to find out."
***
D. A. 'S OFFICE
"So could I possibly have a few..." Jarod began.
"I heard you before. Say Jimmy. Get me the file on that Tyler case, k?" Joe Maxwell had his hands full. The D.A's office rarely had a moment to spare. Joe riffled through a bulky folder, scanning the cases and trying to decide what to designate to whom in the order of importance. "Uh, what's Bennett's opinion on this?"
"Sir, it wouldn't take a lot--"
"I know. Well..." Joe was thinking.
"Phone for you, Mr. Maxwell," someone walking by interjected.
"I'll take it in my office. We're spread a bit thin as it is. I'll think about it Holmes and get back to you." He'd talk to Diana about it first and see what she thought and get back to him.
More dead ends, Jarod thought. It didn't look as if Joe Maxwell was going to give him anyone to help with an investigative digging beneath the mansion. At least not anytime soon. And he was certain Bennett would work to veto the idea. Jarod sighed and sipped his last gulp of coffee then followed it up with a donut.
He turned around and nearly bumped into Diana as she walked into work. He brushed past her and headed for the door. "Hey Holmes? Where you headed?" Diana asked.
"I'm going to do a little digging." Jarod said, cryptically and bolted.
Undoubtedly, Diana would have pursued him but her phone rang. "Bennett here," she answered.
***
BELOW....
"I got here as soon as I could. What's up?" Diana asked.
Vincent, Father, and several others were gathered in the chamber.
"Mouse, you may tell her," Father said.
"Okay good. Okay fine," said the blond-haired young man. He pantomimed as he spoke. "Mouse see and hear much. Strangers on the streets. Strangers say, 'You seen this man?' Show Mouse picture. Mouse say 'No.' Strangers go. Mouse go and tell Vincent."
"It's true," said a cab driver. He was a Helper to those Below. "Black town cars have been all over the city. They've been combing the streets...looking for someone."
"Other Helpers have been reporting the same things," Father agreed. He looked at Vincent and Diana. "Do you have any idea what this is all about?"
Diana and Vincent exchanged a look. "I think we might," said Vincent.
"This photo," Diana addressed the cab driver in a steady voice. "What did it look like?"
"Ah. A man...I'd say in his thirties. Dark short hair. Brown eyes."
"Did he have a mole on his cheek under his eye?"
"Now that you mention it. Yeah. He did."
"Then, it was Jarod."
"Does this have anything to do with that lost boy?" Father interrupted Diana. "Those plain clothes police that would be out on the streets. Your people?"
"No," Diana shook her head. "Not my people. They wouldn't do anything so obviously covert." She couldn't help noticing the way Father had worded her question made her seem like an outsider. Your people. As if in some way she belonged elsewhere. She looked at Mouse and the cab driver. "What did they look like?"
"A man," Mouse said. "Serious face." Mouse rubbed his hair, flattening it with his hands. "Bald here. White hair here. Nice suit. He didn't talk. Just watched."
"And a lady," the cabbie added. "A mean one. Six-inch heels and a mouth that would chew you up and spit you out. She was wearing Armani."
"They were looking for Jarod," Diana stated. Why?
"Is the man some kind of criminal?" Father asked.
"Well then, the problems solved," said the cabbie. "We just let 'em have him."
"That may not be wise," Vincent replied. "We must consider our options carefully. There is something else we have not considered."
"What is that?" Father demanded.
"Perhaps we should tell him our secret," Vincent said, slowly.
"And endanger all of us!" Father spoke out. "Threaten our very way of life!"
"Calm down, Father. It is only a suggestion. Has this man done anything to show that he means us harm?" There was silence as shock waves moved through the group. Vincent's unruffled spirits brought calm. "We will simply consider all our options and convene later. Go now my friends. There is still time before a decision must be made."
Nodding to each other, the group dispersed, leaving only Vincent, Father and Diana.
"Oh yes. Well. I'll leave the decision up to you, Vincent," Father said, gruffly. He walked to the door. "Let it be the right one," he said before he disappeared down the passage.
"Vincent," Diana protested now that there was no one here to hear them. She crossed her arms. "It's true from my research that this man has done a lot of good but we don't know much about him. It could still be dangerous. There's no telling how he would react. What he would do. To Jacob. To you."
"Do you think I don't know what would happen if the world learned of my existence?" Vincent's blue eyes locked with hers. "Are you thinking it would be better to turn him over to these strangers who may mean him harm?"
Diana dropped her eyes. That was exactly what she was thinking. "To protect your world Vincent I...." She was ashamed of herself. There was nothing to indicate that Jarod had meant to interrupt their lives as he had done. In fact everything was indicative of the opposite. But still. It was her nature to question. Everything.
Vincent laid a comforting hand, claws retracted, on her shoulder. "I could have taken some advice long ago, Diana. In order to protect my world. And never have trusted you."
The impact of that thought was terrible. Diana up looked at him in surprise.
Vincent continued, "There are risks in everything we do, Diana. I do not know why but I feel as if I understand this man. How do we know we cannot trust Jarod unless first he is given a chance? From what you have told me, sooner or later, he will find his way to the tunnels...just as you did. If I had not trusted you I would never have found hope again."
Diana closed her eyes. Together they had found Gabriel and rescued Jacob and in doing so restored hope in the midst of Vincent's grief. Something they never could have done if Vincent had not trusted her. She opened her eyes and shook her head. "I wish I had as much faith in humanity as you do, Vincent."
***
Night had fallen. Jarod stole softly down the street. He had gone to the records hall and discovered from a employee there that there indeed were a network of unmapped tunnels beneath the city. The rest of the day he had spent planning an underground excursion.
Tonight, the Pretender was tailing the elusive Detective Bennett. She had been up ahead of him a moment ago, but now she had disappeared. He decided when she appeared once more he would confront her. He had spent too much time on this Pretend. There was no telling now when the Centre would catch up with him. And he never left a Pretend unfinished.
Diana stepped from the shaded corner of a brick building and faced him. Her wiry tall frame was hidden in her long coat. "I need to talk to you, Jarod."
She had beat him to the punch. "What about?"
"The little boy you're trying so hard to find. Why?"
"It's my job." Jarod's answer was evasive.
"It's personal to you, Jarod. Why is it so personal to you?" Diana took a few steps forward. She had the advantage now. "You feel alone. Displaced. You've lost something. A home. Family."
Jarod gave her a surprised look.
"That's my job," Diana said, steadily. "I look at fragments. Pieces. Rearranging them until I get a clear picture. Sometimes...I get inside people's heads. In order to figure something out I..."
"Become someone else." Jarod's brown eyes were sad for a moment. "Yes. I understand." He shook off the mood and continued, "But what I don't understand is why you are hiding what you know. Who do you think you're protecting?"
"Why are you pretending to be a detective?" probed Diana. She gave him a point blank stare. "Look. I don't know who you are. But what you're doing. It has to stop, Jarod. Because people will get hurt." Like Jacob. Like Father. Like all those who lived Below. Like Vincent!
Jarod frowned. "I am someone trying to save the life of a little boy. Someone who knows you're hiding the truth." He took a deep breath in frustration. "His father wasn't able to take care of him properly, but the young Michael Bradley Crafton still has a mother who loves him. He's just a boy. He still deserves a chance at a good life. Why do you keep impeding my investigation?" Diana Bennett struck him as someone who hated lies as much as he did. Yet, she seemed to block his efforts in finding the little boy at every turn.
"So what if I am?" Diana shot back. Something clicked and whirred in Diana's brain but it did not yet touch her conscious mind. She was losing her patience. As lengthy as it was the cord had been stretched taut. This match had to end and so far they had tied. She intended to hold onto the win with all her might. If it had to end, she would end it now. "Do you want me to tell Joe the truth about you? I'm guessing you know the penalty for impersonating an officer of the law. Then, what would happen to your investigation?" Move for move. Match for match. For every point made there was a counterpoint.
A buzzing sound came from Diana's pocket. She pulled out her cellular phone, glanced at Jarod, and answered it. "Yes? Where? Alright. Got it." A Helper just informed her that those strangers in black had been spotted in the area. The choice was now hers alone.
"I'll explain, Jarod. But you have to come with me. Please."
***
CENTRAL PARK
New York, NY
The two had only just entered the park when they were spotted. Jarod was instantly alert. Sweepers? Here? How could they have located him so quickly. Diana rushed into some of the foliage and motioned for him to follow swiftly. Footsteps ran toward them. In another second, the sweeper team would be upon them. Have them surrounded. Jarod's mouth went dry. He couldn't believe this was happening to him? Had Diana discovered about him more than she had let on? Had she lured him into this trap?
He ran after her but could no longer see her. The moonlight could not penetrate through the trees clearly here. He had lost her. She had deserted him to the sweeper team. There was no chance for escape. Not now. He could hear them coming. Surrounding. Closing in on him. The hunted man dived into some bushes and lay where he fell. Jarod held his breath and hoped they wouldn't see him.
A flashlight beam illuminated Jarod suddenly. The sweeper opened his mouth to call out.
"ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!" the nightmarish roar ripped through the shadows of the night and the darkness seemed to leap to life. The scream of a wild cat accompanied the action of the tangible shadow as the flashlight flew through the air and crashed against the tree. The bulb shattered and the cloak of darkness returned.
Jarod closed his eyes, trying to place the roar that seemed to come from all directions. The ground was damp beneath him. He heard the sound of footsteps again. Then, silence. The sweepers were fleeing. The motor of a car started somewhere in the distance, then sped away. Unseen by him now, the occupants of the car were shaking in their shoes and Miss Parker was snapping, "Can't you imbeciles tell the difference between an escaped lion and Boy Wonder?"
The strange terrifying noises had ceased in Central Park. Jarod still lay beneath the bushes on the ground. Wondering. Dazed. His head ached slightly from where he had hit it during the dive for cover.
"Is this he?" a velvety voice came from the shadows.
Jarod looked upwards to see that Diana had returned. She was standing over him. She nodded to the voice and he could see a shadowy figure.
The shadow spoke again. "Do not be alarmed. You are quite safe. I have been waiting to meet you. I understand that you had a question as to what had happened to a missing baby. Catherine Chandler's son."
At the sound of the voice, Jarod got to his knees and then stood up. His heart was still pounding like a hammer. "Who are you?" Jarod asked the shadow. He turned to Diana. "What was that?" he demanded. He turned again to the shadow.
As tempting as it was, Diana had not been able to betray him. She had brought help to save Jarod from the strangers that pursued him. Sometimes you have to take risks, Diana thought. Like trusting someone. "You wanted to know what happened to the baby. This is his father. Vincent."
The shadow moved. A tall cloaked figure stepped from the shadows to where the moonlight illuminated some of his features. Jarod's mouth opened. He was stunned. A massive man stood there. A thick blond mane could be glimpsed under the hood of his cloak and blue eyes watched him. Human eyes staring from the face of a beast.
Then, Jarod closed his mouth and held out his hand. Vincent took it and they shook hands. "Thank you for your help," Jarod breathed. "Meeting you...is an experience."
"You can come out," Vincent said. From the bushes, a young boy walked forward. "This is my son, Jacob," Vincent introduced.
Jarod knelt down to the boy's level. "Hi, Jacob," he smiled. "You can call me, Jarod."
Just Jarod, Diana noted. She knew Holmes was an alias. Now she understood. Jarod hadn't wanted his strange pursuers to find him. Yet, he was willing to take the risks of lingering in the city as they closed in upon him. He honestly had wanted to help find the lost little boy.
"Hi Jarod," Jacob replied. He glanced at Diana. "That's why I couldn't go Above," he laughed softly. "Because he was looking for me?" This was undoubtedly a normal eight-year old boy who was well-cared for and filled with the simple joy of living.
Jarod stood up again and remembered Diana. "You really don't know where Mikey is. That is not at all what you were hiding." He was sorry he had ever believed that of her.She was not merely another corrupt detective who needed to be taught a lesson. She was a woman who would keep a secret to protect her friends. His questions about the ironic nature of her character had been answered.
The thought that had been wavering just beyond Diana's reach suddenly took a flying leap. "I don't know why I didn't catch it before!" Diana exclaimed. Her eyes grew very wide. "Jarod! Do you still have that photo of Mikey?"
"Yes," Jarod drew the photograph from his jacket and handed it to her.
"What is it, Diana?" Vincent asked, noting her unusually strange excitement.
"A man on the run," Diana stated, ever the detective. "With a boy everyone was looking for. There is a strong possibility that he would change the child's name to avoid detection. Try to erase the child's past identity. Vincent--you said there were no Mikes or Mikey's taking refuge in the tunnels."
"Yes," Vincent agreed.
Diana held out the photograph to him. "Do you recognize this face?"
Vincent took the photo from her. "Why! This is..."
"Bradley," said Vincent and Diana together.
"Yes, Bradley," Diana repeated. She turned to Jarod. "You told me that Michael B. Crafton had a son named Mikey. Michael Bradley Crafton. His son was his namesake." Her mind went back to when she had been Below with Vincent and Jacob. They had mentioned a Bradley then. "He has been in the tunnels all along. I just didn't realize it until now."
"Mikey's been with you?" Jarod questioned Vincent. He raised his eyebrows. His Pretend had not failed then. He had been right.
"Yes. One of our Helpers found him...near the old mansion. He was lost and fearful and in need of help. He brought him into the tunnels and he's been quite safe ever since. He told us his name was Bradley but was still too frightened to tell us much else. Come Jacob, let us go and tell him. He'll be going home to his mother." Vincent looked at Jarod. "This mystery is solved. I scared your uninvited guests, but they escaped unharmed. Do you think they'll be back?"
"Yes. I mean no," Jarod replied. "The mystery is solved. They won't be back. I'll...make sure." There were a thousand questions he would have liked to have asked but somehow they weren't important. Jarod saw Vincent looking at him as if he understood and perhaps even felt the same curiosity about Jarod's own life history. Jarod felt a sense of calm settling upon him. Things were right once more.
"Good-bye Jarod."
"Good-bye Vincent."
Vincent turned to Jacob and put his arm around his son's shoulders. They walked off together into the night.
"Jarod," Diana began.
Jarod turned from looking in awe after the departing forms that faded into the shadows. "I'll keep this a secret. I'm very good with secrets," he assured her. Diana was solemn. She, too, watched the departing figures. Vincent, Jacob and the rest who dwelled Below were safe. Suddenly, her face broke into a smile.
"At first sight, he doesn't look it but he's really a very caring and loving man."
Jarod nodded. "And the man that you love," he added.
Diana didn't know what to say. "He...d-doesn't know that," she stumbled.
Jarod gave her a knowing smile. "I think he does."
THE END
