Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
*Disclaimer: I don't own "The Pretender" or any of its characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana
~~~~~~~~~
To Dance In An English Garden
part VI
by Oriana
"I posed as a new detective for the LAPD," Jarod continued, his voice still grim. "A child had gone missing in the area, second in a month fitting Crawford's type. It'd been a little over 24 hours, I thought there was still time...When I tracked him down, I found the little girl's doll in his basement, dirty and ripped...he ran off, but I caught him, held him in a warehouse. He wouldn't admit to doing it, just kept giving me this nauseating smile and politely telling me that I was mistaken." Jarod's voice was angrier, and his fists were clenched.
"He got to me, the little hints he'd drop...Finally, he let something slip--," his voice dropped, "--or so I thought, and I raced away, leaving him tied to a chair. I-I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to find that little girl...She was locked in the basement of an abandoned home. God, she was covered in cuts and bruises--all I could think of was getting her to a hospital..."
"Crawford escaped, didn't he?"
Jarod gave a weak nod. "Somehow managed to cut through the ropes, and slipped through an open window...And when I realized...I-I didn't know what to do, where to go first looking for him. Every available officer was scouring the city, but LA is such a big place...I was so sure I'd let him get away, allowed him to be free to hurt another child, that when a man called from this museum on the east side, saying he'd spotted Crawford, I got there as fast as I could...I knew I couldn't let him get away again."
"Why the museum?"
"I wasn't sure at first, but then I saw the elementary class there for a field trip. There were a couple of girls that fit his preference--he must've spotted them."
Parker paled. She was not liking where this was going.
"Four kids, three boys and one girl, all first-graders, had wandered off from the group, and he'd trapped them on an upper floor. By the time I'd reached the place, there was a hostage negotiation. The officers told me to wait, but I, I wouldn't listen...I was just so furious, at him, at myself, that I ran right in and up the stairs. I broke down the door to the room where they were being held, and we got into a fist fight. I knocked him unconscious...I turned to the kids, led them to the stairs and told them to go down to the police. Once I was sure they were outside, I went back to the room...There was a flight of stairs at the other end, I hadn't noticed them before--I could hear him running up them, so I chased after...The stairs led all the way up, past the fifth level, to the roof. I cornered him at one edge, we fought...and before I even realized what was happening, he'd fallen, five stories, to the concrete sidewalk..."
"The children saw?"
"No, thank god...they were with the police on the other side of the building. But as I stood there, looking down at him, I heard these shouts. Then, the alarms went off and I finally smelled the smoke."
"Oh no..."
"I went back down the stairs, saw the flames were coming from the room I'd just left."
"Crawford?"
"Yes. Who knows what he was thinking. I heard all these cries, and realized that people were trapped in the building. The smoke was so thick, I could barely breathe—it was terrifying, how fast that fire was spreading. I managed to find three, a group of the kids, and got them downstairs..." His eyes watered, and his voice began to choke up. "I tried to go back in, but officers held me back...By the time the firefighters arrived, there was no chance for anyone else. The building collapsed just before they arrived..."
"Jarod..." He was crying now, tears pouring down his face. She did the only thing she could think of: reach out, hug him, and comfort him. "It's not your fault. You didn't plan this...You can't blame yourself."
"Who else can I blame?!" he demanded hoarsely. "If I hadn't gone in there after him, there wouldn't have been five casualties. Five, Parker. Four students, and a tour guide. Four children, ripped from their parents, and a mother, whose two little girls will never see her again."
"It wasn't your fault," she insisted.
"I want to believe you," he whispered. "I want to believe you so much..."
"I know," she soothed, brushing a hand through his hair. "I know. And no matter how long it takes, I'll be right here, helping you. I promise."
He wrapped his arms around her, allowing himself to put down his defenses and rest his head on her shoulder, and sobbed, a sob of old pain and new-found relief.
And then it was daybreak, casting brilliant colors and warmth around them, as the sun rose above the ocean and ancient ruins.
~~~~~~~~~
Parker placed the last shirt into her suitcase, and closed it with a sigh. She'd put off packing all morning, then all afternoon, and even though it was nice to have the dreaded duty over with, there was a feeling of finality that she didn't like at all.
It'd been eleven days since that morning at the ruins. They'd gone back twice, packing a picnic and spending all day there, talking. For Jarod, it'd been a long and hard road back to normality -at least, all the normality that his lifestyle could allow for- and for them both there'd been a lot of emotional moments. Parker'd had a hard time dealing with what her father had done, but never shown it around Jarod. He'd had enough to deal with. Even now, he wasn't completely over it--Parker doubted he ever would be, but at least he could move on, accept the past.
A bellboy arrived to take her bags, and she followed him downstairs. Outside, streetlights came on as the stars appeared. She walked into the Garden Lounge, and spotted Jarod at the bar, slowly stirring his cappaccino.
"This seat taken?" she smiled, sitting down next to him. She ordered coffee from bartender, then turned her attention back to him. "My cab will be here in five minutes to take me to the train station."
"Sure you don't want me to go with you?"
"No," she said, looking fondly out past the open French doors to the small garden that his room had overlooked; the air was filled with soft classical music wafting from speakers hidden behind trees at each corner. "I'd rather say goodbye here."
He nodded, and put his spoon down. "It's gonna seem weird, going back to the real world after all of this."
"Yeah," she agreed cautiously. Slipping something from her jacket pocket, she added, "Jarod, are you sure that you're ready?"
"Have to go sooner or later, and the more time I spend here is less time spent helping others."
"Maybe...you could start off somewhere good; you know, where you'll be reminded about the happier side of reality?"
He gave her a confused glance. "What do you suggest?"
"A little time in the country." She revealed what was in her hand--a handheld tape recorder. She pressed play, and placed it on the bar.
>From the tape came a small, excited voice. "Hi, Jarod!"
He gave the recorder, then Parker, a surprised look.
"Samantha?"
The recording continued. "I'm so excited about your visit. Miss Parker says you aren't really decided yet, but I know you'll come. Hey, if you hurry, you can meet my new friend, Julia! Oh, and I've got so much stuff planned--we can ride the horses -I have a brown pony named Penny- and play in the river and you can check out my new treehouse and..." The hyper voice continued on.
Parker stopped the tape with a smile. "They've moved into this great country estate in Quebec," she explained. "Her parents were more than happy to have you come for a visit. And I figured, what better, than time with one of your successful pretends."
"Parker, I...Thank you."
"Hey, you've earned it." She glanced down at her watch. "I'd better make sure that all my bills were taken care of this morning. Back in a moment." She walked off.
Jarod watched her go with a thoughtful look, then spotted an old-fashioned jukebox behind the bar. "Excuse me," he called to the bartender, "but does that still work?"
Parker returned a moment later and, spotting Jarod out in the garden, joined him. He turned to her. "Dance with me?"
~~~~~~~~~
part VI
by Oriana
"I posed as a new detective for the LAPD," Jarod continued, his voice still grim. "A child had gone missing in the area, second in a month fitting Crawford's type. It'd been a little over 24 hours, I thought there was still time...When I tracked him down, I found the little girl's doll in his basement, dirty and ripped...he ran off, but I caught him, held him in a warehouse. He wouldn't admit to doing it, just kept giving me this nauseating smile and politely telling me that I was mistaken." Jarod's voice was angrier, and his fists were clenched.
"He got to me, the little hints he'd drop...Finally, he let something slip--," his voice dropped, "--or so I thought, and I raced away, leaving him tied to a chair. I-I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to find that little girl...She was locked in the basement of an abandoned home. God, she was covered in cuts and bruises--all I could think of was getting her to a hospital..."
"Crawford escaped, didn't he?"
Jarod gave a weak nod. "Somehow managed to cut through the ropes, and slipped through an open window...And when I realized...I-I didn't know what to do, where to go first looking for him. Every available officer was scouring the city, but LA is such a big place...I was so sure I'd let him get away, allowed him to be free to hurt another child, that when a man called from this museum on the east side, saying he'd spotted Crawford, I got there as fast as I could...I knew I couldn't let him get away again."
"Why the museum?"
"I wasn't sure at first, but then I saw the elementary class there for a field trip. There were a couple of girls that fit his preference--he must've spotted them."
Parker paled. She was not liking where this was going.
"Four kids, three boys and one girl, all first-graders, had wandered off from the group, and he'd trapped them on an upper floor. By the time I'd reached the place, there was a hostage negotiation. The officers told me to wait, but I, I wouldn't listen...I was just so furious, at him, at myself, that I ran right in and up the stairs. I broke down the door to the room where they were being held, and we got into a fist fight. I knocked him unconscious...I turned to the kids, led them to the stairs and told them to go down to the police. Once I was sure they were outside, I went back to the room...There was a flight of stairs at the other end, I hadn't noticed them before--I could hear him running up them, so I chased after...The stairs led all the way up, past the fifth level, to the roof. I cornered him at one edge, we fought...and before I even realized what was happening, he'd fallen, five stories, to the concrete sidewalk..."
"The children saw?"
"No, thank god...they were with the police on the other side of the building. But as I stood there, looking down at him, I heard these shouts. Then, the alarms went off and I finally smelled the smoke."
"Oh no..."
"I went back down the stairs, saw the flames were coming from the room I'd just left."
"Crawford?"
"Yes. Who knows what he was thinking. I heard all these cries, and realized that people were trapped in the building. The smoke was so thick, I could barely breathe—it was terrifying, how fast that fire was spreading. I managed to find three, a group of the kids, and got them downstairs..." His eyes watered, and his voice began to choke up. "I tried to go back in, but officers held me back...By the time the firefighters arrived, there was no chance for anyone else. The building collapsed just before they arrived..."
"Jarod..." He was crying now, tears pouring down his face. She did the only thing she could think of: reach out, hug him, and comfort him. "It's not your fault. You didn't plan this...You can't blame yourself."
"Who else can I blame?!" he demanded hoarsely. "If I hadn't gone in there after him, there wouldn't have been five casualties. Five, Parker. Four students, and a tour guide. Four children, ripped from their parents, and a mother, whose two little girls will never see her again."
"It wasn't your fault," she insisted.
"I want to believe you," he whispered. "I want to believe you so much..."
"I know," she soothed, brushing a hand through his hair. "I know. And no matter how long it takes, I'll be right here, helping you. I promise."
He wrapped his arms around her, allowing himself to put down his defenses and rest his head on her shoulder, and sobbed, a sob of old pain and new-found relief.
And then it was daybreak, casting brilliant colors and warmth around them, as the sun rose above the ocean and ancient ruins.
~~~~~~~~~
Parker placed the last shirt into her suitcase, and closed it with a sigh. She'd put off packing all morning, then all afternoon, and even though it was nice to have the dreaded duty over with, there was a feeling of finality that she didn't like at all.
It'd been eleven days since that morning at the ruins. They'd gone back twice, packing a picnic and spending all day there, talking. For Jarod, it'd been a long and hard road back to normality -at least, all the normality that his lifestyle could allow for- and for them both there'd been a lot of emotional moments. Parker'd had a hard time dealing with what her father had done, but never shown it around Jarod. He'd had enough to deal with. Even now, he wasn't completely over it--Parker doubted he ever would be, but at least he could move on, accept the past.
A bellboy arrived to take her bags, and she followed him downstairs. Outside, streetlights came on as the stars appeared. She walked into the Garden Lounge, and spotted Jarod at the bar, slowly stirring his cappaccino.
"This seat taken?" she smiled, sitting down next to him. She ordered coffee from bartender, then turned her attention back to him. "My cab will be here in five minutes to take me to the train station."
"Sure you don't want me to go with you?"
"No," she said, looking fondly out past the open French doors to the small garden that his room had overlooked; the air was filled with soft classical music wafting from speakers hidden behind trees at each corner. "I'd rather say goodbye here."
He nodded, and put his spoon down. "It's gonna seem weird, going back to the real world after all of this."
"Yeah," she agreed cautiously. Slipping something from her jacket pocket, she added, "Jarod, are you sure that you're ready?"
"Have to go sooner or later, and the more time I spend here is less time spent helping others."
"Maybe...you could start off somewhere good; you know, where you'll be reminded about the happier side of reality?"
He gave her a confused glance. "What do you suggest?"
"A little time in the country." She revealed what was in her hand--a handheld tape recorder. She pressed play, and placed it on the bar.
>From the tape came a small, excited voice. "Hi, Jarod!"
He gave the recorder, then Parker, a surprised look.
"Samantha?"
The recording continued. "I'm so excited about your visit. Miss Parker says you aren't really decided yet, but I know you'll come. Hey, if you hurry, you can meet my new friend, Julia! Oh, and I've got so much stuff planned--we can ride the horses -I have a brown pony named Penny- and play in the river and you can check out my new treehouse and..." The hyper voice continued on.
Parker stopped the tape with a smile. "They've moved into this great country estate in Quebec," she explained. "Her parents were more than happy to have you come for a visit. And I figured, what better, than time with one of your successful pretends."
"Parker, I...Thank you."
"Hey, you've earned it." She glanced down at her watch. "I'd better make sure that all my bills were taken care of this morning. Back in a moment." She walked off.
Jarod watched her go with a thoughtful look, then spotted an old-fashioned jukebox behind the bar. "Excuse me," he called to the bartender, "but does that still work?"
Parker returned a moment later and, spotting Jarod out in the garden, joined him. He turned to her. "Dance with me?"
