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Sydney waited for Jarod’s call again as he called Broots’ home phone. And, even though Debbie probably knew not to answer the phone, once the caller ID showed her who it was, she should break the old rule before the babysitter answered. If not, then hopefully Broots’ babysitter was well informed of who he’d been. After being ghosted by The Centre, and seeing how dangerous The Centre had become year after year, Broots confided and trusted in Miss Parkey and Sydney, just in case something happened to him. Debbie would always be taken care of.

Sydney was now hoping that trust paid off. What he was asking for, was not an easy thing by any stretch.

 “Mister Sydney?” Debbie’s delicate voice filled the phone line to his ear. “Is this about my medication again?”

“Yes, Debbie, I believe it is.” Jarod couldn’t just show up at Broots’ front door as a supposed doctor. Debbie was taught well by Broots now, and she could try running away. “There is someone heading to your home. It is of utmost importance that you break your daddy’s rule about answering the door for someone you don’t know. You must tell your babysitter that your emergency doctor is stopping by.”

“My emergency doctor?”

“Yes, and you must lie. I know lying isn’t good, but it needs to be done.”

“Daddy won’t like this.”

“But your daddy hasn’t been himself though, has he?” Sydney asked her.

“No. He isn’t. Not for some time. He always seems like he’s kind of sick. He never gets better.”

“I know. If you want to make your daddy better again, then you need to trust me. The man coming has the name Jarod. Just tell her he’s Doctor Jarod and that you know him.”

“But? Are you sure, Sydney?”

“Your daddy will get better sooner if you do what I say. I assure you, Debbie, it’s no trick.” Sydney said. “Everything is alright. This is why your dad made special rules.”

“Um. Okay. Doctor Jarod. Okay. I’ll let her know.”

“Your doctor will come in from the back. He is . . .” What could Sydney say?

“Someone that can’t be seen out the front,” Debbie said. “I understand perfectly, Mister Sydney. Daddy taught me a lot. Thank you.”

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Jarod approached the back of the door. The last thing he wanted to do was scare a child. The world was scary enough for them, but if the Centre was getting her sick, then he needed to examine both the medication she’d been taking and her. There were already some ideas in his head about what they could be using. None of them were designed for a child’s system to take. But why would Broots keep giving it to her in the first place?

He knocked on the back door and pulled out a sucker from his jacket pocket. He watched as a strange woman answered the door. “You must be Debbie’s babysitter. My name is Jarod Spock.” He pointed to the badge on his coat. “I’m Debbie’s doctor.” He looked beside the babysitter and held out the sucker toward Debbie.

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“Are you sure there are no other symptoms?” Jarod asked Debbie as he held the bottle of pills being given to her. Vicious stomach ache and intense fever. It only went down when she took the medication he was holding.

He looked at the medication, and as it scattered out onto Debbie’s nightstand, he knew what it was. Jarod just smiled at her as if nothing was wrong. “I think I know what’s wrong with you, Debbie,” Jarod said, scooping up every pill and sliding it into his pocket. “You have been taking the wrong kind of get well pills. I’m going to tell your dad about this.”

Debbie leaned her head slightly to the right. “But dad said I had to keep taking those. When I don’t, I get really sick, Doctor Jarod.”

Ah, now it makes sense. The Centre was playing some kind of trick on Broots, making him think she was getting better because of the pills. “I know, Debbie. I’m your doctor, so trust me,” Jarod said. “Come with me and I’ll get you something better.”

“Come with you?” Debbie wasn’t so sure of that. Jarod wasn’t surprised. That’s why Sydney didn’t tell her that possibility. The Centre clearly wanted something, and Jarod wouldn’t give them the privilege of using Debbie against Broots.

 Even if Mister Broots didn’t like it.

“You trust Sydney, right? Well, Sydney trusts me,” Jarod said. He dialed up Sydney and gave her the phone. “Tell him what I said, and what I want to do.” She’d have to come with him until he could get the truth out of Mister Broots. Hopefully, it only took a small drive and some minimal pretending to crack the already nervous man.

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 Jarod smiled across at Debbie as he picked up his phone. He already had a discussion about how he’d have to play hardball with her dad, but that she’d be there back with him soon. She just needed to stay quiet and ignore everything. “Sydney.”

“He’s ready to talk.”

“I want my little girl!” Broots yelled over the phone. “How could you just take her from me?”

Good, just a small drive it sounded like. “How could I take her from you? How could you slowly be poisoning your own daughter?”

“I would never slowly poison my daughter!”

“That’s not what Doctor Jarod says,” Jarod said. “If you think I can just leave Debbie with a father who is poisoning his daughter for The Centre? Then you don’t know me that well. By the way, your daughter likes the bright lights of Vegas. They’re pretty in the sky.”

“What?!”

“Well, I still have to atone for all the things the Centre did,” Jarod said, knowing this would probably nail the rest. “I’ll just take her with me on my pretends. They are usually pretty safe. Usually.”

“No, Jarod! You, no!”

“Then give me a reason why a caring dad would be poisoning his daughter from something as evil as The Centre or you’re going to have to catch me to get her back!”

“They shouldn’t be, they are supposed to be keeping her alive!”

“Alive? Not with what they were giving her. Without me intervening, your daughter would be gone in another week.”

“No. I.”

“She’ll be fine now. She’ll be with me. Always. Until you manage to catch me. If you ever catch me.”

“No, Jarod, I didn’t want to. I thought, it was supposed to be helping her! I don’t want to help The Centre, it’s the last thing I want! I just want her not to die! They said they gave her something, and then the pills are what are making her live!”

Bingo. He had him. “Why would they do that, Mister Broots? What do you know that is so valuable the Centre would even bother with it?”

“Because. I.”

“The landing strip is getting closer, Mister Broots.”

“I know where Miss Parker is.”

So. It was about Miss Parker. Sydney was right. “Isn’t she in South Africa?”

“Yes, but not willingly. She’s been imprisoned in a cell, but if I squealed-!”

“Debbie died.” He got it. Loud and clear. Miss Parker was getting a taste of his medicine. “Don’t worry, Mister Broots. This conversation is safe and I’m nowhere near Vegas. Actually just driving around in the next town over,” he confessed. “So, now that you’re finally spilling the truth. What all do you know about what happened to Miss Parker?”

“It was all a joke. I’ve been . . . bamboozled for a joke,” Broots said over again as he stood next to Sydney’s car.

“The Centre is tricky,” Jarod said. “It wasn’t anything dangerous, Mister Broots, it was vitamins. When you didn’t collect them, they probably secretly slipped her something at her local school to make her a little sick,” he said. “Pulling out poison for a child could be inconvenient if it killed her, so this was probably easier for them.”

“What are we going to do about Miss Parker?” Sydney asked Jarod. “According to what Broots told us, it didn’t sound like she was in terrible danger.”

“Massages, bedding, and nice service from a cell?” Jarod said. “Sounds like a dream come true. Only thing is the only dreams the Centre’s ever been involved with are nightmares.”

“Yeah. There must have been a reason. I thought that maybe they wanted to get away with something, but Lyle didn’t want to kill his sister in the process,” Broots said. “But, Lyle wouldn’t have just given her all of that if it wasn’t necessary.”

“To unstress her,” Sydney said. “You said it was all to unstress her? Why would they want her unstressed?”

“Figure that out, and you’ll know what they are doing.” In the meantime. “If this is a simple trick by Lyle to keep her out of the way, I doubt it would have gone on for six months.”

“Yeah. I-I know,” Broots said. “I know. Th-that’s why . . . it just, it wore down heavier on me.”

“Well, we need to get her out of there, Broots.” Sydney said.  “She’s been locked up for six months! Good treatment or not, that’s not good for her.”

“If only you had that point of view when I was a child.” Sure, it hurt. Sure, it wasn’t the time but Jarod couldn’t help it. For years Sydney kept him in that same kind of condition but he only cared now about it. And not for him, but for Miss Parker.

“I’m sorry, Jarod. I am simply concerned because I am not there.”

“I know.” He couldn’t dwell on it. His chaser or not, she was in trouble somehow. And locked up for six months? She needed out. His plans for justice for his sims were going to have to be on hold for a bit longer. “I fancy a trip to South Africa. How about you, Sydney?”

“I should go,” Broots said softly. “They’ll know about this soon.”

“It depends on how big this was. The biggest joke of all time from Lyle, or something more sinister,” Sydney said. “You should probably take Debbie and get out for now, Broots. I’ll let you know what’s going on.”

“You don’t get it. It’s going to be big. Jarod is going to have to slip around undetected. In the Triumvirate’s main domain. He’s going to need all the help he can get.”

Broots’ skill was the reason he was even employed by the Centre, and he might be right. Jarod could pull it off by himself, but it would take longer. Miss Parker had waited long enough already. “Pay overtime to your babysitter, Broots,” Jarod said. “We’re off to South Africa.”