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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Chap. 3
When Jarod finally thought to look at his watch, it was nearly four in the afternoon. He had spent the intervening hours driving around Cascade aimlessly, turning at random, trying to organize thoughts that insisted on drifting in and out of his head and refused to be pinned down. Several times he caught himself dialing Sydney's number out of sheer habit and had to force himself to close his cell phone and break the connection.
Eventually, he stopped and got directions to the nearest beach, drove there and parked. He walked to the waters edge, pondering the implications of the name he was now certain he'd heard Blair mumble the previous night as he emerged from his nightmare. Assessing the risk of revealing his true past to the two people waiting back at the apartment, he finally conceded that Blair's right to the truth far outweighed the tendency toward paranoia and secret-keeping at any cost that had been so deeply seared into his own mind and soul.
When Jarod reached the loft, Jim had already left for work, and with what he was afraid he had to tell Blair, it was almost a relief he'd only have to face one of the men at a time.
"Kyle. You didn't have to knock."
"Sorry. Habit, I guess. Come sit down at the table, Blair. We have some things to talk about."
"That's what you said earlier."
"I'm sorry I was gone so long. I had a lot to think through. Jim's at work?"
Bringing a cup of Jarod's preferred tea blend and his own mug to the table, Blair took the chair across from him, smiling easily.
"Yeah. You look so serious. Are you really alright?"
"For now. I wanted to ask you a few questions. First; how much do you remember about the first nightmare you had last night?"
"Way too much."
"When I came in to try to help you get back to sleep, what was happening in the dream?"
"It's already faded, most of it anyway. I'm not really sure..."
"I understand that. Please try. It's very important."
"Okay. Man, I was so confused at first... lost, you know? I didn't know if I was safe... or still in that dungeon. I remember... all of a sudden I wanted my folks so bad it was like my heart was bein' crushed. I got this weird feeling... like I'd just been with them a minute before... then this voice whispered that... I wouldn't ever see them again. Hearing those words... it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. I've been shot, beaten, cut... nothing has even come close to how bad that felt."
For a brief moment Jarod felt tears welling at the edges of his vision, but forced them back to their source.
"Do you remember what you were saying as you were waking up?"
"Wow. That's tough. It's so blurry. I can hear myself saying something, screaming it. I yelled for my mom and dad... threw in a few no's and please don'ts... wait. Hold it. I've never... I don't know anybody named... Jacob. That sounds almost right... Doctor Jacob. That was it. What is this, Kyle? You look like you're about ready to fall apart."
"Make me a promise before I answer that."
"Okay. Whatever you want."
"Promise me you'll try to believe that every word I'm about to tell you is true."
"I'll try. Go on."
"I never intentionally deceived you or Jim. I couldn't trust... I had no way of knowing you'd.... The place you wanted out of so badly during the session yesterday... I know what it is. I spent my childhood and a large piece of my adulthood there. I think... you might have been there too. Jacob... Doctor Jacob was the brother of the man who raised me..."
Numb, Blair was uncharacteristically silent throughout Jarod's greatly curtailed re-telling of his time at, and escape from, the Centre and of the years since. When the other finished his tale, Blair rose, walked to the sink and leaned heavily on the edge, breathing shallowly for a long time, his back to Jarod.
"Blair..."
"Wait. Just... give me a second here. I accept what you told me about you... but it makes no sense for me. They took you because you're a genius. I'm just me. I'm nothing special or different."
"What's your tested I.Q.?"
"150."
"You must have taken a few psychology classes along the way. You know how rare that is, how rare we are. Put two and two together, Blair. You may hate it... but it does make sense."
Blair hesitated, then tightly embraced denial for however long he could make it last, pushing away the truth Jarod was showing him.
"You're so wrong, man. You just have to be wrong. My I.Q. is irrelevant. I'm not like you. I'm just Jim Ellison's partner, I teach anthropology..."
"You can't just push yesterday to the back burner and act like it never happened. The Centre took you for a reason. You can be disgusted, you can be angry, you can be sad... I've been every one of those and they're all perfectly normal reactions, but eventually you're going to have to accept it. You are different, Blair. You're special."
Sensing his grasp on denial slipping, Blair conceded the point and fell back on his well-remembered childhood.
"Okay, but you don't understand, Kyle. I remember my aunt and uncle, my parents, my cousins. I grew up in a normal town, I went to school, I had friends..."
"Some children were rescued. A woman named Catherine Parker managed to... Blair? What's wrong?"
Unable to refuse the truth any longer, Blair's eyes widened and he clung to the counter for dear life as his knees buckled and would have dropped him to the floor if Jarod hadn't moved to support him.
"I heard that name... yesterday, just before you made it all go away and brought me out... someone was saying... go... go home, Catherine... stay out of it, Catherine... Oh, God... it can't be true... no, God please, don't make it true..."
This time it was Jarod who held Blair as he sobbed and shook, struggling to erase the persistent, and all too vivid, images from his head.
"Shhh. You're alright. This is what's real now. Your life here with Jim, your work at the station and the university are real. It was so long ago... they're just memories. They can't hurt you now."
Nearly carrying Blair, Jarod moved the younger man to the living room couch, then went back and microwaved their tea and returned with it. When the warmed mug was pressed into his hands, Blair began to calm, disbelief gradually being overridden by questions and concerns.
"So... you think I was rescued. Is there any way to know how long..."
"Until I check the records? Not with any certainty. Think for a minute. Think about your childhood, any strange events you remember, even just vaguely..."
Sudden understanding of something flashing in Blair's eyes, Jarod encouraged the other when he seemed reluctant to voice it. "Go on. What is it?"
"It's nothing. At least I didn't think so at the time... I was about twelve, I guess. I'd asked my aunt for some baby pictures for a school project. She didn't have anything to give me except one or two from the hospital when I was first born and about a dozen of me as a toddler. She claimed the rest were in albums that were destroyed along with some other stuff in a fire."
"How old were you in the toddler pictures?"
"Two... maybe three."
"And when the pictures start again?"
"Seven... I think... Oh... oh, man... you mean I could have spent four years in that place?!"
To forestall another breakdown, Jarod grasped Blair's chin and turned the other's face toward his, making sure their eyes met and locked.
"I spent twenty-eight."
"Hey... man. I'm really sorry. I just... I can't get my mind around this, you know?"
Smiling brightly, Jarod forced himself to ease up and focus on what the other needed instead of his own roiling emotions.
"Of course I do. It's me who should apologize. I tend to get possessive about my pain, like I'm the only one who was ever damaged this way, so only I have a right to scream and yell about how difficult my life was. Ten minutes in that hell would scar anyone for life. If we're right, you survived four years and came out with your spirit untouched, your soul intact and your heart still alive and whole enough... that when you found a friend worthy of all of that, you still had it to give. You can be proud of that, Blair. Very proud."
Abruptly, Jarod felt as if he'd been caught in the crest of an enormous wave of joy, peace and gratitude. Drowning in the flood of sensation, he fought to breathe and pushed Blair away from him a bit.
"Kyle?"
"I'm fine... Dear God... I was right. I didn't think it was possible, but I was right..."
"Right about what? I don't understand."
"You will soon. Not now... but soon. I have to be absolutely positive... Would you be open to another hypnosis session? A very short one, I promise. It shouldn't take more than ten minutes... we'll wait for Jim to get home, discuss it with him, of course..."
"Kyle, slow down. What are you talking about?"
"You'll see. What would you say to hot fudge sundaes? My treat."
"I'd say point me in the right direction, I'll find my own way. But wait..."
"Not now. Jim should be home around... what, ten-thirty?"
"Yeah. Close to that."
"Good. First dinner, then a movie, then ice cream. Sound alright to you?" Jarod offered as he pulled Blair up and guided the confused young man toward the door.
Realizing he'd just have to wait to discover Jarod's secret, Blair surrendered to the promise of the evening.
"Sounds great. You like Mexican? I know this fantastic little place that makes the best chili con carne and enchiladas you ever had..."
((((((((((((((((
Jarod and Blair didn't arrive back at the loft until almost eleven that night. They walked in to find Jim sitting tensely on the couch, not really watching the last of a basketball game on T.V.
As the two walked in, chatting and giggling, Jim stabbed the power button on the remote and rose to face the double sources of his current frustration.
"About time you got home. You've got classes all day tomorrow, Chief, and after last night..."
"I remembered. We were just having so much fun, and I know I'll sleep tonight. I understand more about everything now, Jim; the memory block, the phobia, weird things I remember my mom telling me as a kid... It all makes sense now. A bizarre kinda sense, but sense!" Blair announced happily.
"Put your feet back on the dirt for a minute, Chief."
Fixing Jarod with a look that said all that was necessary, Jim turned on their new friend. "I've been waiting on you, especially. Mind telling me what I'm guessing you already told him?"
"Of course. Can we go back in here and sit?"
Jim nodded tensely, but hesitated when Blair moved to follow them into the living room.
"You already heard this, Chief. Hit the sack."
"Jim..."
"I mean it. You'll be fallin' asleep against the blackboard if you don't get some down time. Now, Sandburg."
His expression clearly showing his opinion of Jim's condescending attitude, Blair turned and stalked off into his room. Jim dropped to the couch and half turned his body toward Jarod and the back cushion as the other had done, tucking one leg close to him. "So? Talk."
"First of all, I have to clarify something. When you hear this, you're going to think I've lied to you. I haven't. I am a licensed therapist and a private recruiter; very private. I actually came to Cascade to meet you. Running into Blair in that restaurant was just... I don't know. Call it fate or whatever you care to. I'm also what's called a Pretender. I was born with a genius level I.Q. and an eidetic memory. They allow me to do anything or become anyone I decide I want to. Any profession, any regional accent... no limits or boundaries except the ones I impose on myself."
"Which are?"
"I won't kill unless someone else's life is in immediate danger. I try to only use the gift I was given to make a difference in the world, to help others and not for personal gain or greed."
"Good at the snow-jobs aren't you?"
"Excuse me?"
"No human being is beyond greed... and you've killed at least once. Your eyes told me."
Jarod's expression hardened and he glared lasers at Jim until the other man was forced to turn his eyes down into his lap.
"I killed once, yes. The man was an international assassin and he was holding a gun to the head of a close friend of mine. As for the issue of greed, if you'll allow me to continue?"
"Yeah. Look I didn't mean..."
Jarod held up a hand briefly, then went on with his story.
"Because of this gift I was born with, I was stolen from my home as a young child and raised in a ... very evil place. They manipulated me and my abilities for their own purposes. They even took some of the projections and scenarios I gave them for preventing assassinations and terrorism... and sold them to people who used them to create the death, destruction and fear I wanted to stop. All it took was enough money, and their consciences conveniently disappeared... if they ever had any in the first place. When I take money from them, I keep only enough to make sure I can eat and to allow me to travel. The rest goes to the victims of the Centre and organizations like it and to legitimate charities. Does that satisfy your doubts, detective?"
Raising his eyes to meet Jarod's again, Jim sighed, looked down at his hands, then back up.
"I'm sorry. Blair calls that my inner cynic. Keeps tellin' me if I don't control it I'll lose every friend I ever had except him. He's probably right. I should've kept my mouth shut..."
"No. Actually... I'm glad it came up. I suppose it was something you needed to know if we're ever going to trust each other."
"Yeah. When there's that much passion involved, you can pretty much guarantee the perp... person isn't lying to you. Go on, though. Tell me more about this... Centre."
"I was there from age four until I was thirty-two. That's when I escaped. They've been searching for me ever since, even caught me a time or two, but I always manage to find a way out. The moment I was free I started realizing that there were people who needed what I could do, needed my skills to help them find justice for wrongs that someone else had done to them; wrongs they couldn't make right alone."
Sudden awareness flashed in Jim's eyes and a smile lit his features. "What?"
"Damn! That was you who saved that young guy in the Oregon mountains back a few years. I only ever believed half the things I heard from my connections up there. Some of 'em still think you're a myth. One or two are convinced you're a real life member of the 'Touched by an Angel' cast."
Jarod laughed lightly, though the sadness underlying it was evident.
"Trust me. I'm no angel."
"So you're helping people..."
"Yes, but a few months ago a good friend helped me see that every time I do it's a neon arrow for the people chasing me to follow. I saw that I can't do this alone anymore, not and expect to stay free. I started researching newspapers, interviewing and checking with a few sources I've developed over the years. I created a list of candidates, people with enormous hearts, committed to helping those who can't help themselves, who also have... let's call it an aura of mystery. Rumors swirl around these people; they get things done noone else can, but noone ever knows how. They all, potentially, have gifts, a something... special to contribute beyond their compassion and dedication."
For a moment, Jim's eyes narrowed as he gazed thoughtfully at Jarod.
"What did Blair tell you... about me?"
"Only the basics. Cascade P.D., commendations enough to start a museum... He's very proud of you, you know."
Jim's sudden raise of an eyebrow clearly said 'He is?' but he kept silent. "As I said though, you wouldn't have gotten on the list if there weren't... talk. If you want to fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle..."
"Not just yet. Finish the story. What does all this have to do with Blair and the crud he's going through?"
"A great deal. Last night, when I went in to him after that first nightmare... he said a name as he was waking up. It shook me pretty badly."
"One you recognized?"
"Yes. Blair and I talked when I got back this afternoon and he realized there was a four-year gap in his early childhood when his family has no pictures of him. I put that together with his phobia, his high I.Q. and the... gift I think he might possess and came to the conclusion that the Centre had stolen him too, but only kept him a short time."
Tensely, Jarod waited for Jim's expression to close down, for his skeptical cop's nature to take over. When it didn't happen, he breathed a little easier.
"Hold on, here. That's crazy. They wouldn't release you, why would they..."
"Not released, rescued. The wife of a top official saw what was going on and began to secretly move the children out to safety. Unfortunately, she was murdered before... before she could save all of them."
"Before she could save you, you mean."
"That's one way to put it. When I spoke this woman's name earlier, it broke loose a piece of memory for Blair. He recognized the name. I already suspected the truth. Seeing his reaction was just further confirmation. If you'll agree to help, Blair wants to go back under as soon as possible and try to retrieve the entire memory. Tomorrow if..."
"No! No way. Seeing him like that yesterday... I thought maybe I'd lost him. I won't risk it."
"Fine." Jarod agreed, surprising Jim. "What timetable were you thinking of?"
"I don't know. A week sounds about right. He should be recharged and ready to face it by then."
"Okay. A week it is." Jarod replied, rising and digging in his pocket for his keys.
Jim half rose in response, calling after him.
"Stay. He needs you."
"No. He needs time with you and a return to his normal routine for a while. Blair has my number. If you feel like catching a game, doing some hiking... or just talking, call me. I'll be close by."
"Kyle."
"Yes?"
"That's not your name, is it?"
"It is... now. It was my brother's. Maybe you'll hear that story sometime."
"I hope so. Night."
"Good-night, detective."
"Detective is my job description. My name is Jim."
This brought a low chuckle from Jarod.
"I stand corrected. Good-night... Jim."
When Jarod finally thought to look at his watch, it was nearly four in the afternoon. He had spent the intervening hours driving around Cascade aimlessly, turning at random, trying to organize thoughts that insisted on drifting in and out of his head and refused to be pinned down. Several times he caught himself dialing Sydney's number out of sheer habit and had to force himself to close his cell phone and break the connection.
Eventually, he stopped and got directions to the nearest beach, drove there and parked. He walked to the waters edge, pondering the implications of the name he was now certain he'd heard Blair mumble the previous night as he emerged from his nightmare. Assessing the risk of revealing his true past to the two people waiting back at the apartment, he finally conceded that Blair's right to the truth far outweighed the tendency toward paranoia and secret-keeping at any cost that had been so deeply seared into his own mind and soul.
When Jarod reached the loft, Jim had already left for work, and with what he was afraid he had to tell Blair, it was almost a relief he'd only have to face one of the men at a time.
"Kyle. You didn't have to knock."
"Sorry. Habit, I guess. Come sit down at the table, Blair. We have some things to talk about."
"That's what you said earlier."
"I'm sorry I was gone so long. I had a lot to think through. Jim's at work?"
Bringing a cup of Jarod's preferred tea blend and his own mug to the table, Blair took the chair across from him, smiling easily.
"Yeah. You look so serious. Are you really alright?"
"For now. I wanted to ask you a few questions. First; how much do you remember about the first nightmare you had last night?"
"Way too much."
"When I came in to try to help you get back to sleep, what was happening in the dream?"
"It's already faded, most of it anyway. I'm not really sure..."
"I understand that. Please try. It's very important."
"Okay. Man, I was so confused at first... lost, you know? I didn't know if I was safe... or still in that dungeon. I remember... all of a sudden I wanted my folks so bad it was like my heart was bein' crushed. I got this weird feeling... like I'd just been with them a minute before... then this voice whispered that... I wouldn't ever see them again. Hearing those words... it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. I've been shot, beaten, cut... nothing has even come close to how bad that felt."
For a brief moment Jarod felt tears welling at the edges of his vision, but forced them back to their source.
"Do you remember what you were saying as you were waking up?"
"Wow. That's tough. It's so blurry. I can hear myself saying something, screaming it. I yelled for my mom and dad... threw in a few no's and please don'ts... wait. Hold it. I've never... I don't know anybody named... Jacob. That sounds almost right... Doctor Jacob. That was it. What is this, Kyle? You look like you're about ready to fall apart."
"Make me a promise before I answer that."
"Okay. Whatever you want."
"Promise me you'll try to believe that every word I'm about to tell you is true."
"I'll try. Go on."
"I never intentionally deceived you or Jim. I couldn't trust... I had no way of knowing you'd.... The place you wanted out of so badly during the session yesterday... I know what it is. I spent my childhood and a large piece of my adulthood there. I think... you might have been there too. Jacob... Doctor Jacob was the brother of the man who raised me..."
Numb, Blair was uncharacteristically silent throughout Jarod's greatly curtailed re-telling of his time at, and escape from, the Centre and of the years since. When the other finished his tale, Blair rose, walked to the sink and leaned heavily on the edge, breathing shallowly for a long time, his back to Jarod.
"Blair..."
"Wait. Just... give me a second here. I accept what you told me about you... but it makes no sense for me. They took you because you're a genius. I'm just me. I'm nothing special or different."
"What's your tested I.Q.?"
"150."
"You must have taken a few psychology classes along the way. You know how rare that is, how rare we are. Put two and two together, Blair. You may hate it... but it does make sense."
Blair hesitated, then tightly embraced denial for however long he could make it last, pushing away the truth Jarod was showing him.
"You're so wrong, man. You just have to be wrong. My I.Q. is irrelevant. I'm not like you. I'm just Jim Ellison's partner, I teach anthropology..."
"You can't just push yesterday to the back burner and act like it never happened. The Centre took you for a reason. You can be disgusted, you can be angry, you can be sad... I've been every one of those and they're all perfectly normal reactions, but eventually you're going to have to accept it. You are different, Blair. You're special."
Sensing his grasp on denial slipping, Blair conceded the point and fell back on his well-remembered childhood.
"Okay, but you don't understand, Kyle. I remember my aunt and uncle, my parents, my cousins. I grew up in a normal town, I went to school, I had friends..."
"Some children were rescued. A woman named Catherine Parker managed to... Blair? What's wrong?"
Unable to refuse the truth any longer, Blair's eyes widened and he clung to the counter for dear life as his knees buckled and would have dropped him to the floor if Jarod hadn't moved to support him.
"I heard that name... yesterday, just before you made it all go away and brought me out... someone was saying... go... go home, Catherine... stay out of it, Catherine... Oh, God... it can't be true... no, God please, don't make it true..."
This time it was Jarod who held Blair as he sobbed and shook, struggling to erase the persistent, and all too vivid, images from his head.
"Shhh. You're alright. This is what's real now. Your life here with Jim, your work at the station and the university are real. It was so long ago... they're just memories. They can't hurt you now."
Nearly carrying Blair, Jarod moved the younger man to the living room couch, then went back and microwaved their tea and returned with it. When the warmed mug was pressed into his hands, Blair began to calm, disbelief gradually being overridden by questions and concerns.
"So... you think I was rescued. Is there any way to know how long..."
"Until I check the records? Not with any certainty. Think for a minute. Think about your childhood, any strange events you remember, even just vaguely..."
Sudden understanding of something flashing in Blair's eyes, Jarod encouraged the other when he seemed reluctant to voice it. "Go on. What is it?"
"It's nothing. At least I didn't think so at the time... I was about twelve, I guess. I'd asked my aunt for some baby pictures for a school project. She didn't have anything to give me except one or two from the hospital when I was first born and about a dozen of me as a toddler. She claimed the rest were in albums that were destroyed along with some other stuff in a fire."
"How old were you in the toddler pictures?"
"Two... maybe three."
"And when the pictures start again?"
"Seven... I think... Oh... oh, man... you mean I could have spent four years in that place?!"
To forestall another breakdown, Jarod grasped Blair's chin and turned the other's face toward his, making sure their eyes met and locked.
"I spent twenty-eight."
"Hey... man. I'm really sorry. I just... I can't get my mind around this, you know?"
Smiling brightly, Jarod forced himself to ease up and focus on what the other needed instead of his own roiling emotions.
"Of course I do. It's me who should apologize. I tend to get possessive about my pain, like I'm the only one who was ever damaged this way, so only I have a right to scream and yell about how difficult my life was. Ten minutes in that hell would scar anyone for life. If we're right, you survived four years and came out with your spirit untouched, your soul intact and your heart still alive and whole enough... that when you found a friend worthy of all of that, you still had it to give. You can be proud of that, Blair. Very proud."
Abruptly, Jarod felt as if he'd been caught in the crest of an enormous wave of joy, peace and gratitude. Drowning in the flood of sensation, he fought to breathe and pushed Blair away from him a bit.
"Kyle?"
"I'm fine... Dear God... I was right. I didn't think it was possible, but I was right..."
"Right about what? I don't understand."
"You will soon. Not now... but soon. I have to be absolutely positive... Would you be open to another hypnosis session? A very short one, I promise. It shouldn't take more than ten minutes... we'll wait for Jim to get home, discuss it with him, of course..."
"Kyle, slow down. What are you talking about?"
"You'll see. What would you say to hot fudge sundaes? My treat."
"I'd say point me in the right direction, I'll find my own way. But wait..."
"Not now. Jim should be home around... what, ten-thirty?"
"Yeah. Close to that."
"Good. First dinner, then a movie, then ice cream. Sound alright to you?" Jarod offered as he pulled Blair up and guided the confused young man toward the door.
Realizing he'd just have to wait to discover Jarod's secret, Blair surrendered to the promise of the evening.
"Sounds great. You like Mexican? I know this fantastic little place that makes the best chili con carne and enchiladas you ever had..."
((((((((((((((((
Jarod and Blair didn't arrive back at the loft until almost eleven that night. They walked in to find Jim sitting tensely on the couch, not really watching the last of a basketball game on T.V.
As the two walked in, chatting and giggling, Jim stabbed the power button on the remote and rose to face the double sources of his current frustration.
"About time you got home. You've got classes all day tomorrow, Chief, and after last night..."
"I remembered. We were just having so much fun, and I know I'll sleep tonight. I understand more about everything now, Jim; the memory block, the phobia, weird things I remember my mom telling me as a kid... It all makes sense now. A bizarre kinda sense, but sense!" Blair announced happily.
"Put your feet back on the dirt for a minute, Chief."
Fixing Jarod with a look that said all that was necessary, Jim turned on their new friend. "I've been waiting on you, especially. Mind telling me what I'm guessing you already told him?"
"Of course. Can we go back in here and sit?"
Jim nodded tensely, but hesitated when Blair moved to follow them into the living room.
"You already heard this, Chief. Hit the sack."
"Jim..."
"I mean it. You'll be fallin' asleep against the blackboard if you don't get some down time. Now, Sandburg."
His expression clearly showing his opinion of Jim's condescending attitude, Blair turned and stalked off into his room. Jim dropped to the couch and half turned his body toward Jarod and the back cushion as the other had done, tucking one leg close to him. "So? Talk."
"First of all, I have to clarify something. When you hear this, you're going to think I've lied to you. I haven't. I am a licensed therapist and a private recruiter; very private. I actually came to Cascade to meet you. Running into Blair in that restaurant was just... I don't know. Call it fate or whatever you care to. I'm also what's called a Pretender. I was born with a genius level I.Q. and an eidetic memory. They allow me to do anything or become anyone I decide I want to. Any profession, any regional accent... no limits or boundaries except the ones I impose on myself."
"Which are?"
"I won't kill unless someone else's life is in immediate danger. I try to only use the gift I was given to make a difference in the world, to help others and not for personal gain or greed."
"Good at the snow-jobs aren't you?"
"Excuse me?"
"No human being is beyond greed... and you've killed at least once. Your eyes told me."
Jarod's expression hardened and he glared lasers at Jim until the other man was forced to turn his eyes down into his lap.
"I killed once, yes. The man was an international assassin and he was holding a gun to the head of a close friend of mine. As for the issue of greed, if you'll allow me to continue?"
"Yeah. Look I didn't mean..."
Jarod held up a hand briefly, then went on with his story.
"Because of this gift I was born with, I was stolen from my home as a young child and raised in a ... very evil place. They manipulated me and my abilities for their own purposes. They even took some of the projections and scenarios I gave them for preventing assassinations and terrorism... and sold them to people who used them to create the death, destruction and fear I wanted to stop. All it took was enough money, and their consciences conveniently disappeared... if they ever had any in the first place. When I take money from them, I keep only enough to make sure I can eat and to allow me to travel. The rest goes to the victims of the Centre and organizations like it and to legitimate charities. Does that satisfy your doubts, detective?"
Raising his eyes to meet Jarod's again, Jim sighed, looked down at his hands, then back up.
"I'm sorry. Blair calls that my inner cynic. Keeps tellin' me if I don't control it I'll lose every friend I ever had except him. He's probably right. I should've kept my mouth shut..."
"No. Actually... I'm glad it came up. I suppose it was something you needed to know if we're ever going to trust each other."
"Yeah. When there's that much passion involved, you can pretty much guarantee the perp... person isn't lying to you. Go on, though. Tell me more about this... Centre."
"I was there from age four until I was thirty-two. That's when I escaped. They've been searching for me ever since, even caught me a time or two, but I always manage to find a way out. The moment I was free I started realizing that there were people who needed what I could do, needed my skills to help them find justice for wrongs that someone else had done to them; wrongs they couldn't make right alone."
Sudden awareness flashed in Jim's eyes and a smile lit his features. "What?"
"Damn! That was you who saved that young guy in the Oregon mountains back a few years. I only ever believed half the things I heard from my connections up there. Some of 'em still think you're a myth. One or two are convinced you're a real life member of the 'Touched by an Angel' cast."
Jarod laughed lightly, though the sadness underlying it was evident.
"Trust me. I'm no angel."
"So you're helping people..."
"Yes, but a few months ago a good friend helped me see that every time I do it's a neon arrow for the people chasing me to follow. I saw that I can't do this alone anymore, not and expect to stay free. I started researching newspapers, interviewing and checking with a few sources I've developed over the years. I created a list of candidates, people with enormous hearts, committed to helping those who can't help themselves, who also have... let's call it an aura of mystery. Rumors swirl around these people; they get things done noone else can, but noone ever knows how. They all, potentially, have gifts, a something... special to contribute beyond their compassion and dedication."
For a moment, Jim's eyes narrowed as he gazed thoughtfully at Jarod.
"What did Blair tell you... about me?"
"Only the basics. Cascade P.D., commendations enough to start a museum... He's very proud of you, you know."
Jim's sudden raise of an eyebrow clearly said 'He is?' but he kept silent. "As I said though, you wouldn't have gotten on the list if there weren't... talk. If you want to fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle..."
"Not just yet. Finish the story. What does all this have to do with Blair and the crud he's going through?"
"A great deal. Last night, when I went in to him after that first nightmare... he said a name as he was waking up. It shook me pretty badly."
"One you recognized?"
"Yes. Blair and I talked when I got back this afternoon and he realized there was a four-year gap in his early childhood when his family has no pictures of him. I put that together with his phobia, his high I.Q. and the... gift I think he might possess and came to the conclusion that the Centre had stolen him too, but only kept him a short time."
Tensely, Jarod waited for Jim's expression to close down, for his skeptical cop's nature to take over. When it didn't happen, he breathed a little easier.
"Hold on, here. That's crazy. They wouldn't release you, why would they..."
"Not released, rescued. The wife of a top official saw what was going on and began to secretly move the children out to safety. Unfortunately, she was murdered before... before she could save all of them."
"Before she could save you, you mean."
"That's one way to put it. When I spoke this woman's name earlier, it broke loose a piece of memory for Blair. He recognized the name. I already suspected the truth. Seeing his reaction was just further confirmation. If you'll agree to help, Blair wants to go back under as soon as possible and try to retrieve the entire memory. Tomorrow if..."
"No! No way. Seeing him like that yesterday... I thought maybe I'd lost him. I won't risk it."
"Fine." Jarod agreed, surprising Jim. "What timetable were you thinking of?"
"I don't know. A week sounds about right. He should be recharged and ready to face it by then."
"Okay. A week it is." Jarod replied, rising and digging in his pocket for his keys.
Jim half rose in response, calling after him.
"Stay. He needs you."
"No. He needs time with you and a return to his normal routine for a while. Blair has my number. If you feel like catching a game, doing some hiking... or just talking, call me. I'll be close by."
"Kyle."
"Yes?"
"That's not your name, is it?"
"It is... now. It was my brother's. Maybe you'll hear that story sometime."
"I hope so. Night."
"Good-night, detective."
"Detective is my job description. My name is Jim."
This brought a low chuckle from Jarod.
"I stand corrected. Good-night... Jim."
