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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Lyrics by David Bowie, Annie Lennox, and Duran Duran
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Day after day they send my friends away to mansions cold and gray… To the far side of town where the thin men stalk the streets while the sane stay underground…
The walls of his prison were gone, melted away into the abyss. It happened every so often, after months of captivity that they suddenly let him free.
It was a terrifying experience.
He lived shackled by fear in his little prison cell- afraid of Them, afraid of himself, afraid of the Black Coats, afraid of the Needle with the Black Ink…
But Outside was maddening…
Day after day they tell me I can go… They tell me I can blow to the far side of town where it's pointless to be high cause it's such a long way down… So I tell them that I can fly, I will scream, I will break my arm- I will do me harm…
Nothing was familiar, everything was threatening. It was The Game, nothing more; They set him free to hunt him again.
The Hunter was now the Hunted- it was the irony of The Game that they liked so much.
But the Game had changed; there was another- one like him.
I'd rather play here with all the madmen for I'm quite content they're all as sane as me…
Their Games had so broken his mind that he was more tormented by the idea of another like him than he was of forever being alone.
He much preferred the isolation of his enclosed prison to the madness of the Free World…
Day after day they take some brain away then turn my face around to the far side of town and tell me that it's real then ask me how I feel…
There they were again, lurking in places that never saw light. Why?
Why did they do this?
Here I stand, foot in hand, talking to my wall… I'm not quite right at all … Don't set me free, I'm as helpless as can be - gimme some good 'ole lobotomy…
The voices never ceased their nonsensical chatter.
Between they and the Shadow beings, his mind frayed even more. He was beyond insanity…
What was beyond insane?
What of the Other? Was the Other as crazy as he?
He prayed never to find the answers to his questions…
'Cause I'd rather stay here with all the madmen than perish with the Sadmen roaming free…
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The front desk was abandoned and she scuttled past it, desperate to escape the run-down motel.
“Hey!” a large voice boomed out of the darkness surrounding the lobby. “Hey, Red!”
She froze.
“You gotta message.”
The desk was still empty by the time she finally crept back to it. She the nooks where messages were kept- only one contained a note.
The paper shook between her hands as she read the brief, minimal message:
Amelia- please call.
There was no name or number attached to the message. She shoved the note into her pocket as she glanced about the room.
The voice called out as she tried again to leave.
“Hey! You owe me fer two weeks; when you gonna pay?!”
Two weeks?
“I…I-“ she could find no voice with which to speak.
“Where are you, girl?” the voice demanded. “Who are you?”
Who are you? Who are you? Who are you?
Mia had no answers to his questions.
Her eyes caught on the sign announcing the direction of the bathrooms. Silently, she slipped into the darkness.
The manager appeared from the back room just in time to see a figure running into the shadows.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Things were rapidly falling into place.
That morning Sussex had called to inform him that they’d found DNA evidence on the Judge’s body. He also knew without testing that the killer was female. When Jarod asked how he knew, Sussex explained that the DNA was obtained from a piece of chipped artificial nail- it was more probable that it was a woman who wore the acrylic nails.
Sussex also said that Jarod could expect lab results within the next twelve hours- he put a rush order on the testing; he was as eager as the Pretender to solve this case.
The results came in eight hours and they confirmed that the killer was, indeed, female.
Jarod smiled to himself and he studied another piece of evidence that Sussex had found: a single strand of long auburn hair. That narrowed the suspect pool down considerably- he doubted that the Centre had too many redheaded assassins in it’s Rolodex.
He closed the case file, stood up, and tucked it under his arm. It would only be a matter of time before the identity of the slayer was uncovered.
Of that he was sure.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The office door crashed open, causing Broots to jump a mile.
Sydney casually looked up from his computer screen.
“You should be more careful, Parker,” he chided gently, returning to his work. “You don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to yourself. You’re not supposed to be here, remember.”
“I remember,” she barked, glowering at everything. “Get your things together. We’re leaving.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow at her.
“Did you get a lead on Jarod?”
“Forget Jarod,” she snapped, leaning on one arm against his desk. “It’s Lyle I want.”
“Why Lyle?”
“Because.” It was the only explanation that she would give them.
It was later that Broots knocked on Miss Parker’s office door to ask her where exactly they were going- he needed to know how to dress.
No one answered his timid tapping. Either she was ignoring him or she had left a lamp on- there was light spilling out from under the door.
He entered the office uncertainly.
“M-m-miss Parker?”
She was sitting in the corner with an odd rectangular object on her lap. Her face was obscured by shadow- she looked treacherous and lethal. His eyes caught the gleam of something metallic- he prayed it wasn’t her gun.
“What do you want, Broots?” There was no biting sarcams in her tone- her voice was devoid of emotion.
He would have preferred her angry.
“I-I-I just came, um, wanted, uh….” His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Are you okay?”
No answer.
He inched nearer, afraid to get too close. He peered at the object in her lap- it was a cage.
“Miss Parker?”
There was silence, then:
“He killed her,” she didn’t move as she spoke. “For no reason, he killed her.”
Broots wasn’t sure what she was talking about though he deduced that the “he” was Mr. Lyle.
“Killed what?” he ventured finally.
“My rabbit,” she spat viciously. “I found her in my car this morning.”
“Oh.” Broots was certainly sorry about the loss of her pet, though he wasn’t clear on why she was taking it so hard. “Well, maybe you can get another one.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Wh-? Oh!” It was then that Broots realized the importance of the rabbit- that rabbit. It had been a Christmas gift from Jarod. “Oh, gee. I’m really sorry, Miss Parker.”
“So am I, Broots.” She rose and walked into the light. She normal now- her old self once more. “And he’s gonna be…when I get through with him.”
She said, “Revenge can be so sweet…I like to take it when I can…I need to play with the ones I hate…
I like to see them suffer…
The trouble that had been brewing between the Parker twins was about to erupt. There was just one thing that bothered Broots. How did Lyle kill the rabbit and put it Miss Parker’s car this morning if he was still in New York? Of course, he could have come back already, but…
It has to be dangerous, it has to be refined, it has to be skillful…You need to take your time…
“Come on, Broots,” she waved him to the door with the cage still in hand. “We’ve got a rat to catch in New York.”
“We’re going after Mr. Lyle?”
“You betcha,” she replied. “And this time there’ll be no coming back from the dead.”
It wasn’t that he thought Mr. Lyle didn’t deserved what was coming to him. On the contrary, the sociopath deserved much more; Broots just thought it was a bit extreme to kill someone over a dead pet. He was no psychologist, but he suspected a much deeper cause of Miss Parker’s rage- the rabbit was just the excuse she needed to justify her actions.
She said, “I take care of my resources. You never know when you might need them…I'm fast and I'm strong- my reflexes are good…It doesn't take long to achieve my deserved revenge…”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She inched her way along the dark hallway towards a green door. The door creaked in protested at being pushed on its rusty hinges. The new corridor was just at dim as the last. She stumbled and nearly fell as she closed the door.
She felt her way along the wall until she reached another door. She slipped in the new portal and found herself faced with two options: Men and Women.
She quickly raced into the women’s restroom, barely making it into a stall before she collapsed.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bell on the front desk rang incessantly. The manager emerged annoyed from the back room. His beady eyes squinted beneath his bushy brows at the dark figures in front of the counter. There were two of them.
“Where is Amelia Micelli?”
The manager eyed the men without truly looking at them.
“Whaddya want her fer?” he snapped. “You a friend of –“ He finally looked directly at them and realized how creepy they really were.
In a flash, a white hand wrapped itself around the manager’s throat, leaving him gasping for air. He was violently shoved against a wall with his feet dangling above the floor.
“Where is she?”
He gagged trying to speak. The hand loosened its grip.
“She left,” he wheezed. “Five minutes ago.”
He was suddenly released and fell to his knees. The Black Coats abruptly parted to the side.
The manager looked up to see a thin man in a sharp dark suit with a cerulean silk and golden smiling secretively at him. The man whispered something to the first Black Coat, and then returned his intense blue gaze back to the manager.
The Black Coat turned his head toward his twin and nodded.
The second creature stepped up to the desk. Even though the man wore sunglasses, the manager could still feel the penetrating gaze the strange man.
At length the Black Coat spoke, “Mr. Cox would like to have a word with you.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dark in the city, night is a wire… Steam in the subway, earth is afire…And catch my breathing even closer behind…
He was very close.
There was no physical evince to prove this, but he sensed that he was closing in on her. He just needed to wait for something to spook her out of hiding.
His pace quickened. For an inexplicable reason he found himself in a rundown part of the City- there was no reason for him to be here unless she was here. He knew, somehow he knew she was near.
In touch with the ground, I’m on the hunt- I’m after you…Smell like I sound, I’m lost in a crowd And I’m hungry like the wolf…
A seedy motel guarded the path in front of him. He paused and studied the building for a long while. There was nothing extraordinary about it.
He was about to leave when the front door opened. Every nerve in his body tingled. His eyes narrowed at he tried to categorize the sensation.
Danger….
Two Black Coats exited the building. There was another man with them.
By the time they reached the place where he had been standing, Lyle was tucked away in the sanctuary of the shadows. He watched them pass by, unaware of his presence. Something made him look twice at the shorter man.
Recognition lit his eyes. Instinctively, his hand enclosed on his empty gun.
Cox!! What’s he doing here? With Them?
Straddle the line, in discord and rhyme I’m on the hunt I’m after you… I’m hungry like the wolf…
Mia. Of course. They’re after her. But what business would Cox have with her?
A thought struck him with the weight of canon.
What if someone else was brought in to do my job?
The implications of such an occurrence shook him- the Triumvirate was not happy and if the Triumvirate was not happy…
There could be a headstone somewhere with his name on it.
He shrugged his shoulders as though trying to rid himself of the idea. He fell in step several paces behind the trio of figures. He was determined to find out why Cox had been brought in and perhaps in the process they would lead him to Mia.
Stalked in the forest, too close to hide I’ll be upon you by the moonlight side… You feel my heart, I’m just a moment behind…
He suddenly felt cold as he trailed them. The outside temperature, he observed, was unchanged; he was simply moving away from her…
What nonsense is that? He ridiculed himself. But the truth was undeniable… He nearly turned back.
Cox and his guards continued on foot- obviously they were not returning to the Centre right away. They headed uptown into a more ritzy area.
Their destination it turned out was on the thirty-second floor of an office building.
He waited outside of the office they disappeared into- the office of a Dr. Viktor Puccini…a doctor of psychoanalysis. Lyle suppressed a growl; he was not fond of doctors, but had a particularly strong hatred for psychiatrists, psychologist, counselors, whatever the right name was- they were all the same to him.
Several minutes later, the trio came out and exited down the opposite corridor from the one they had entered. Lyle opted not to follow them. Instead, he stepped into the Doctor’s office to see what was so interesting.
Puccini’s office was rather unimpressive- and cluttered. There were mounds of unsorted papers and files, empty food cartons, dirty coffee mugs…with the coffee gelled in them.
Slightly obsessive-compulsive in his neatness, the surrounding filth disgusted him.
If Cox and his goons had rifled through anything, it would have been impossible to tell. Lyle scanned the contents of the paper-crowded desk, reluctant to touch anything. An appointment book lying open on the corner of the table caught his attention.
Circled in red was the note:
Meeting with Mario Micelli at Gianina’s: Wednesday, 6:00pm- 214 York Avenue.
York Avenue? That was the same street that Mia lived on, he recalled. He looked at his watch- it was already ten 'til six.
He sat his briefcase upon the desk, another item those idiots in black coats had not taken from him, and opened it.
After removing Mia’s file from it, he rifled through the pages. Some of the information in the address book registered with him. Sure enough, Mia’s last name was Micelli, and she had a sister, Maria, a brother, Mario, and, of course, a grandmother, Gianina.
Burning the ground I break from the crowd- I’m on the hunt I’m after you… Scent and a sound, I’m lost and I’m found and I’m hungry like the wolf…
Hmmm… Though the file had no address for her relatives, he was fairly certain that this was the same family- it was too big of a coincidence not to be.
He frowned.
She must have been in therapy then, he thought. I wonder what repressed memories where uncovered in those sessions? Being followed by men in Black Coats? A creepy old man with an oxygen tank? He snickered. Poor girl must have been on the verge of being committed.
His gaze drifted from the folder in his hand to the file cabinet. He tucked Mia’s file away in the briefcase.
I wonder…
He made sure the office door was locked and propped a chair under the handle, in case anyone with a key should try to enter.
An hour later, he found it- a file for Micelli, Amelia T. With a snake-like smile, he exited the office, ready to resume the hunt for his little doll.
Strut on a line, it’s discord and rhyme I howl and I whine- I’m after you… I’m hungry like the wolf...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Her name is Amelia,” Sydney watched the hallway for any sign of Miss Parker. “I don’t know much more about her, Jarod. Lyle has her file.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line; Sydney could hear the rustle of papers as Jarod looked for something.
“Has Broots been able to find anything on her?” he finally queried.
“No, there is no record of any Amelia on file. Miss Parker did not know her last name.”
“Maybe she doesn’t have one,” he pointed out rather sullenly.
He sounded agitated, though the doctor was unsure why.
“Maybe,” he conceded. “Jarod, do you think this Amelia is your killer?”
“Mmhmm,” he answered through papers held between his lips.
“I do remember Parker saying that the girl was about twenty-two.”
“Oh?”
“Parker said from the way her father described Amelia, she seems rather benign.” A shadow caught Sydney’s eye. He frowned. “Are you sure she’s the assassin?”
“Well, now that I know her age, I ninety-five percent positive. She’s in New York you said?”
“Yes,” the doctor replied distractedly. Parker was on her way back to the hotel suite. “Jarod, I have to go, but I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“Parker’s in New York.”
“Why?”
“She’s after Lyle.”
“Not me?” Something in his voice made the psychologist pause- he could have sworn that he heard disappointment in the Pretender’s voice. He dismissed the notion- he was mistaken; it must have been relief he heard instead.
“No. You’re off the hook for now.”
“Are you at the Centre?” His voice was normal again.
“No, Broots and I are with Parker. Jarod, I have to go now. But stay in touch.”
“Yeah.”
Jarod clicked the phone off and stared out of the window. Amelia, Lyle, Parker, and he were all in the City- what were the odds? He could have figured that out, but his mind was elsewhere.
He needed a DNA match to prove that Amelia was his Centre assassin. If she wasn’t, he was back to square one. But if she was…
All he had to do now was find her.
His eyes fell to the phone again. He picked it up and dialed.
It took several rings before someone finally answered.
“What?”
He smiled and settled back into his chair, kicking his feet up onto the top of the desk.
“Hello, Miss Parker.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day after day they send my friends away to mansions cold and gray… To the far side of town where the thin men stalk the streets while the sane stay underground…
The walls of his prison were gone, melted away into the abyss. It happened every so often, after months of captivity that they suddenly let him free.
It was a terrifying experience.
He lived shackled by fear in his little prison cell- afraid of Them, afraid of himself, afraid of the Black Coats, afraid of the Needle with the Black Ink…
But Outside was maddening…
Day after day they tell me I can go… They tell me I can blow to the far side of town where it's pointless to be high cause it's such a long way down… So I tell them that I can fly, I will scream, I will break my arm- I will do me harm…
Nothing was familiar, everything was threatening. It was The Game, nothing more; They set him free to hunt him again.
The Hunter was now the Hunted- it was the irony of The Game that they liked so much.
But the Game had changed; there was another- one like him.
I'd rather play here with all the madmen for I'm quite content they're all as sane as me…
Their Games had so broken his mind that he was more tormented by the idea of another like him than he was of forever being alone.
He much preferred the isolation of his enclosed prison to the madness of the Free World…
Day after day they take some brain away then turn my face around to the far side of town and tell me that it's real then ask me how I feel…
There they were again, lurking in places that never saw light. Why?
Why did they do this?
Here I stand, foot in hand, talking to my wall… I'm not quite right at all … Don't set me free, I'm as helpless as can be - gimme some good 'ole lobotomy…
The voices never ceased their nonsensical chatter.
Between they and the Shadow beings, his mind frayed even more. He was beyond insanity…
What was beyond insane?
What of the Other? Was the Other as crazy as he?
He prayed never to find the answers to his questions…
'Cause I'd rather stay here with all the madmen than perish with the Sadmen roaming free…
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The front desk was abandoned and she scuttled past it, desperate to escape the run-down motel.
“Hey!” a large voice boomed out of the darkness surrounding the lobby. “Hey, Red!”
She froze.
“You gotta message.”
The desk was still empty by the time she finally crept back to it. She the nooks where messages were kept- only one contained a note.
The paper shook between her hands as she read the brief, minimal message:
Amelia- please call.
There was no name or number attached to the message. She shoved the note into her pocket as she glanced about the room.
The voice called out as she tried again to leave.
“Hey! You owe me fer two weeks; when you gonna pay?!”
Two weeks?
“I…I-“ she could find no voice with which to speak.
“Where are you, girl?” the voice demanded. “Who are you?”
Who are you? Who are you? Who are you?
Mia had no answers to his questions.
Her eyes caught on the sign announcing the direction of the bathrooms. Silently, she slipped into the darkness.
The manager appeared from the back room just in time to see a figure running into the shadows.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Things were rapidly falling into place.
That morning Sussex had called to inform him that they’d found DNA evidence on the Judge’s body. He also knew without testing that the killer was female. When Jarod asked how he knew, Sussex explained that the DNA was obtained from a piece of chipped artificial nail- it was more probable that it was a woman who wore the acrylic nails.
Sussex also said that Jarod could expect lab results within the next twelve hours- he put a rush order on the testing; he was as eager as the Pretender to solve this case.
The results came in eight hours and they confirmed that the killer was, indeed, female.
Jarod smiled to himself and he studied another piece of evidence that Sussex had found: a single strand of long auburn hair. That narrowed the suspect pool down considerably- he doubted that the Centre had too many redheaded assassins in it’s Rolodex.
He closed the case file, stood up, and tucked it under his arm. It would only be a matter of time before the identity of the slayer was uncovered.
Of that he was sure.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The office door crashed open, causing Broots to jump a mile.
Sydney casually looked up from his computer screen.
“You should be more careful, Parker,” he chided gently, returning to his work. “You don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to yourself. You’re not supposed to be here, remember.”
“I remember,” she barked, glowering at everything. “Get your things together. We’re leaving.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow at her.
“Did you get a lead on Jarod?”
“Forget Jarod,” she snapped, leaning on one arm against his desk. “It’s Lyle I want.”
“Why Lyle?”
“Because.” It was the only explanation that she would give them.
It was later that Broots knocked on Miss Parker’s office door to ask her where exactly they were going- he needed to know how to dress.
No one answered his timid tapping. Either she was ignoring him or she had left a lamp on- there was light spilling out from under the door.
He entered the office uncertainly.
“M-m-miss Parker?”
She was sitting in the corner with an odd rectangular object on her lap. Her face was obscured by shadow- she looked treacherous and lethal. His eyes caught the gleam of something metallic- he prayed it wasn’t her gun.
“What do you want, Broots?” There was no biting sarcams in her tone- her voice was devoid of emotion.
He would have preferred her angry.
“I-I-I just came, um, wanted, uh….” His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Are you okay?”
No answer.
He inched nearer, afraid to get too close. He peered at the object in her lap- it was a cage.
“Miss Parker?”
There was silence, then:
“He killed her,” she didn’t move as she spoke. “For no reason, he killed her.”
Broots wasn’t sure what she was talking about though he deduced that the “he” was Mr. Lyle.
“Killed what?” he ventured finally.
“My rabbit,” she spat viciously. “I found her in my car this morning.”
“Oh.” Broots was certainly sorry about the loss of her pet, though he wasn’t clear on why she was taking it so hard. “Well, maybe you can get another one.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Wh-? Oh!” It was then that Broots realized the importance of the rabbit- that rabbit. It had been a Christmas gift from Jarod. “Oh, gee. I’m really sorry, Miss Parker.”
“So am I, Broots.” She rose and walked into the light. She normal now- her old self once more. “And he’s gonna be…when I get through with him.”
She said, “Revenge can be so sweet…I like to take it when I can…I need to play with the ones I hate…
I like to see them suffer…
The trouble that had been brewing between the Parker twins was about to erupt. There was just one thing that bothered Broots. How did Lyle kill the rabbit and put it Miss Parker’s car this morning if he was still in New York? Of course, he could have come back already, but…
It has to be dangerous, it has to be refined, it has to be skillful…You need to take your time…
“Come on, Broots,” she waved him to the door with the cage still in hand. “We’ve got a rat to catch in New York.”
“We’re going after Mr. Lyle?”
“You betcha,” she replied. “And this time there’ll be no coming back from the dead.”
It wasn’t that he thought Mr. Lyle didn’t deserved what was coming to him. On the contrary, the sociopath deserved much more; Broots just thought it was a bit extreme to kill someone over a dead pet. He was no psychologist, but he suspected a much deeper cause of Miss Parker’s rage- the rabbit was just the excuse she needed to justify her actions.
She said, “I take care of my resources. You never know when you might need them…I'm fast and I'm strong- my reflexes are good…It doesn't take long to achieve my deserved revenge…”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She inched her way along the dark hallway towards a green door. The door creaked in protested at being pushed on its rusty hinges. The new corridor was just at dim as the last. She stumbled and nearly fell as she closed the door.
She felt her way along the wall until she reached another door. She slipped in the new portal and found herself faced with two options: Men and Women.
She quickly raced into the women’s restroom, barely making it into a stall before she collapsed.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bell on the front desk rang incessantly. The manager emerged annoyed from the back room. His beady eyes squinted beneath his bushy brows at the dark figures in front of the counter. There were two of them.
“Where is Amelia Micelli?”
The manager eyed the men without truly looking at them.
“Whaddya want her fer?” he snapped. “You a friend of –“ He finally looked directly at them and realized how creepy they really were.
In a flash, a white hand wrapped itself around the manager’s throat, leaving him gasping for air. He was violently shoved against a wall with his feet dangling above the floor.
“Where is she?”
He gagged trying to speak. The hand loosened its grip.
“She left,” he wheezed. “Five minutes ago.”
He was suddenly released and fell to his knees. The Black Coats abruptly parted to the side.
The manager looked up to see a thin man in a sharp dark suit with a cerulean silk and golden smiling secretively at him. The man whispered something to the first Black Coat, and then returned his intense blue gaze back to the manager.
The Black Coat turned his head toward his twin and nodded.
The second creature stepped up to the desk. Even though the man wore sunglasses, the manager could still feel the penetrating gaze the strange man.
At length the Black Coat spoke, “Mr. Cox would like to have a word with you.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dark in the city, night is a wire… Steam in the subway, earth is afire…And catch my breathing even closer behind…
He was very close.
There was no physical evince to prove this, but he sensed that he was closing in on her. He just needed to wait for something to spook her out of hiding.
His pace quickened. For an inexplicable reason he found himself in a rundown part of the City- there was no reason for him to be here unless she was here. He knew, somehow he knew she was near.
In touch with the ground, I’m on the hunt- I’m after you…Smell like I sound, I’m lost in a crowd And I’m hungry like the wolf…
A seedy motel guarded the path in front of him. He paused and studied the building for a long while. There was nothing extraordinary about it.
He was about to leave when the front door opened. Every nerve in his body tingled. His eyes narrowed at he tried to categorize the sensation.
Danger….
Two Black Coats exited the building. There was another man with them.
By the time they reached the place where he had been standing, Lyle was tucked away in the sanctuary of the shadows. He watched them pass by, unaware of his presence. Something made him look twice at the shorter man.
Recognition lit his eyes. Instinctively, his hand enclosed on his empty gun.
Cox!! What’s he doing here? With Them?
Straddle the line, in discord and rhyme I’m on the hunt I’m after you… I’m hungry like the wolf…
Mia. Of course. They’re after her. But what business would Cox have with her?
A thought struck him with the weight of canon.
What if someone else was brought in to do my job?
The implications of such an occurrence shook him- the Triumvirate was not happy and if the Triumvirate was not happy…
There could be a headstone somewhere with his name on it.
He shrugged his shoulders as though trying to rid himself of the idea. He fell in step several paces behind the trio of figures. He was determined to find out why Cox had been brought in and perhaps in the process they would lead him to Mia.
Stalked in the forest, too close to hide I’ll be upon you by the moonlight side… You feel my heart, I’m just a moment behind…
He suddenly felt cold as he trailed them. The outside temperature, he observed, was unchanged; he was simply moving away from her…
What nonsense is that? He ridiculed himself. But the truth was undeniable… He nearly turned back.
Cox and his guards continued on foot- obviously they were not returning to the Centre right away. They headed uptown into a more ritzy area.
Their destination it turned out was on the thirty-second floor of an office building.
He waited outside of the office they disappeared into- the office of a Dr. Viktor Puccini…a doctor of psychoanalysis. Lyle suppressed a growl; he was not fond of doctors, but had a particularly strong hatred for psychiatrists, psychologist, counselors, whatever the right name was- they were all the same to him.
Several minutes later, the trio came out and exited down the opposite corridor from the one they had entered. Lyle opted not to follow them. Instead, he stepped into the Doctor’s office to see what was so interesting.
Puccini’s office was rather unimpressive- and cluttered. There were mounds of unsorted papers and files, empty food cartons, dirty coffee mugs…with the coffee gelled in them.
Slightly obsessive-compulsive in his neatness, the surrounding filth disgusted him.
If Cox and his goons had rifled through anything, it would have been impossible to tell. Lyle scanned the contents of the paper-crowded desk, reluctant to touch anything. An appointment book lying open on the corner of the table caught his attention.
Circled in red was the note:
Meeting with Mario Micelli at Gianina’s: Wednesday, 6:00pm- 214 York Avenue.
York Avenue? That was the same street that Mia lived on, he recalled. He looked at his watch- it was already ten 'til six.
He sat his briefcase upon the desk, another item those idiots in black coats had not taken from him, and opened it.
After removing Mia’s file from it, he rifled through the pages. Some of the information in the address book registered with him. Sure enough, Mia’s last name was Micelli, and she had a sister, Maria, a brother, Mario, and, of course, a grandmother, Gianina.
Burning the ground I break from the crowd- I’m on the hunt I’m after you… Scent and a sound, I’m lost and I’m found and I’m hungry like the wolf…
Hmmm… Though the file had no address for her relatives, he was fairly certain that this was the same family- it was too big of a coincidence not to be.
He frowned.
She must have been in therapy then, he thought. I wonder what repressed memories where uncovered in those sessions? Being followed by men in Black Coats? A creepy old man with an oxygen tank? He snickered. Poor girl must have been on the verge of being committed.
His gaze drifted from the folder in his hand to the file cabinet. He tucked Mia’s file away in the briefcase.
I wonder…
He made sure the office door was locked and propped a chair under the handle, in case anyone with a key should try to enter.
An hour later, he found it- a file for Micelli, Amelia T. With a snake-like smile, he exited the office, ready to resume the hunt for his little doll.
Strut on a line, it’s discord and rhyme I howl and I whine- I’m after you… I’m hungry like the wolf...
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“Her name is Amelia,” Sydney watched the hallway for any sign of Miss Parker. “I don’t know much more about her, Jarod. Lyle has her file.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line; Sydney could hear the rustle of papers as Jarod looked for something.
“Has Broots been able to find anything on her?” he finally queried.
“No, there is no record of any Amelia on file. Miss Parker did not know her last name.”
“Maybe she doesn’t have one,” he pointed out rather sullenly.
He sounded agitated, though the doctor was unsure why.
“Maybe,” he conceded. “Jarod, do you think this Amelia is your killer?”
“Mmhmm,” he answered through papers held between his lips.
“I do remember Parker saying that the girl was about twenty-two.”
“Oh?”
“Parker said from the way her father described Amelia, she seems rather benign.” A shadow caught Sydney’s eye. He frowned. “Are you sure she’s the assassin?”
“Well, now that I know her age, I ninety-five percent positive. She’s in New York you said?”
“Yes,” the doctor replied distractedly. Parker was on her way back to the hotel suite. “Jarod, I have to go, but I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“Parker’s in New York.”
“Why?”
“She’s after Lyle.”
“Not me?” Something in his voice made the psychologist pause- he could have sworn that he heard disappointment in the Pretender’s voice. He dismissed the notion- he was mistaken; it must have been relief he heard instead.
“No. You’re off the hook for now.”
“Are you at the Centre?” His voice was normal again.
“No, Broots and I are with Parker. Jarod, I have to go now. But stay in touch.”
“Yeah.”
Jarod clicked the phone off and stared out of the window. Amelia, Lyle, Parker, and he were all in the City- what were the odds? He could have figured that out, but his mind was elsewhere.
He needed a DNA match to prove that Amelia was his Centre assassin. If she wasn’t, he was back to square one. But if she was…
All he had to do now was find her.
His eyes fell to the phone again. He picked it up and dialed.
It took several rings before someone finally answered.
“What?”
He smiled and settled back into his chair, kicking his feet up onto the top of the desk.
“Hello, Miss Parker.”
