Tuesday, Upstate New York
Jarod opened a blue spiral notebook. Kyle had always used blue for his simulations, like he had always used red.
I DECIDE WHO LIVES OR DIES.
I DECIDE WHO LIVES OR DIES.
I DECIDE WHO LIVES OR DIES.
I DECIDE WHO LIVES OR DIES.
I DECIDE WHO LIVES OR DIES.
The entire notebook was full. Jarod sighed and closed the notebook, heading up the path as he remembered what he'd been told by the Agents on scene--they'd been only too happy to show off to a rookie.
"...he's a sick puppy."
"No record until ten years ago. Like he fell outta the sky, man."
"Stalked that Harriet Tashman for days before he kidnapped her, as if the kidnapping wasn't enough."
And the building manager, whose complaint had sent a chill down Jarod's spine, "I already told all this to the other agent who was here this morning. Dontcha guys talk to each other?"
Then there was the videotape of the news report of the kidnapping.
"...victim, Harriet Tashman, is safe and sources tell us that she is refusing to press charges against her kidnapper." As the reporter prattled on, two people comforted Harriet Tashman. One, tall, thin, gray-haired, male. The other was a younger woman, beautiful, with long red hair. And his mother.
So here he was, at Harriet Tashman's farm, looking for answers.
Looking around, Jarod realized that the farm itself was well cared for. Led by some instinct, he climbed into the loft above the barn. They must have left in a hurry--personal belongings were left behind. The small room was decorated with hand-made quilts and wall hangings; there was a work bench and unfinished hand-carved model airplanes; there was a mobile decorated with origami swans (the kind Jarod had been taught to make, before he was taken by The Centre); and there was a baby's crib. On a dresser beside the bed was a carved wooden box. Inside the box Jarod found a Bible with a devotional holy card in it depicting Saint Catherine of the Hills. An address along the bottom of the card read: Route 1, Hillshire Meadows, Mass. On the page marked by the card in the Bible, a passage is highlighted which reads: "And under the hand of God Ye little children shall never be lost."
"I was in a nunnery along with another young novice named Catherine Jameson," a voice said from behind Jarod. He turned around to face her, but didn't interrupt. Harriet continued, "I went on to take my vows and join the cloister, but Catherine left the convent before her vows were taken to marry a man named Mr. Parker. I tried very hard to remain dedicated to the vows I'd taken, but eventually came to realize that I didn't really have "the calling" required to be a nun, so I left the convent." She sighed and sat down on the bed, a combination of relief and worry shaping her movements. "In 1997, after I inherited the farm, I got a call from the Mother Superior at St. Catherine of the Hills convent telling me that Catherine Jameson, now Catherine Parker, needed help. Catherine brought a couple -- a man named Charles and a woman named Margaret -- to me and asked me to shelter them. They had had their sons abducted, and were afraid and on the run, and Margaret was 8 months pregnant with her third child -- your sister, Emily."
Jarod's breath caught, remembering the person who had crashed his website. He couldn't quite hide the grin.
"So," Harriet said, "I took them in and hid them. Emily was born one month after they went into seclusion. Years later, after I lost all contact with Catherine, I started getting threatening mail and telephone calls from Kyle, who had somehow figured out that I had a connection to your parents. He was desperate. And after I was kidnapped, and managed to escape from Kyle, your--and his--family vanished, and I went into hiding."
Jarod stared at Harriet. "I have a sister. And my parents' names are Margaret and Charles."
"Don't forget your brother."
"As if I could."
[ooc: NFB due to distance.]
I DECIDE WHO LIVES OR DIES.
I DECIDE WHO LIVES OR DIES.
I DECIDE WHO LIVES OR DIES.
I DECIDE WHO LIVES OR DIES.
I DECIDE WHO LIVES OR DIES.
The entire notebook was full. Jarod sighed and closed the notebook, heading up the path as he remembered what he'd been told by the Agents on scene--they'd been only too happy to show off to a rookie.
"...he's a sick puppy."
"No record until ten years ago. Like he fell outta the sky, man."
"Stalked that Harriet Tashman for days before he kidnapped her, as if the kidnapping wasn't enough."
And the building manager, whose complaint had sent a chill down Jarod's spine, "I already told all this to the other agent who was here this morning. Dontcha guys talk to each other?"
Then there was the videotape of the news report of the kidnapping.
"...victim, Harriet Tashman, is safe and sources tell us that she is refusing to press charges against her kidnapper." As the reporter prattled on, two people comforted Harriet Tashman. One, tall, thin, gray-haired, male. The other was a younger woman, beautiful, with long red hair. And his mother.
So here he was, at Harriet Tashman's farm, looking for answers.
Looking around, Jarod realized that the farm itself was well cared for. Led by some instinct, he climbed into the loft above the barn. They must have left in a hurry--personal belongings were left behind. The small room was decorated with hand-made quilts and wall hangings; there was a work bench and unfinished hand-carved model airplanes; there was a mobile decorated with origami swans (the kind Jarod had been taught to make, before he was taken by The Centre); and there was a baby's crib. On a dresser beside the bed was a carved wooden box. Inside the box Jarod found a Bible with a devotional holy card in it depicting Saint Catherine of the Hills. An address along the bottom of the card read: Route 1, Hillshire Meadows, Mass. On the page marked by the card in the Bible, a passage is highlighted which reads: "And under the hand of God Ye little children shall never be lost."
"I was in a nunnery along with another young novice named Catherine Jameson," a voice said from behind Jarod. He turned around to face her, but didn't interrupt. Harriet continued, "I went on to take my vows and join the cloister, but Catherine left the convent before her vows were taken to marry a man named Mr. Parker. I tried very hard to remain dedicated to the vows I'd taken, but eventually came to realize that I didn't really have "the calling" required to be a nun, so I left the convent." She sighed and sat down on the bed, a combination of relief and worry shaping her movements. "In 1997, after I inherited the farm, I got a call from the Mother Superior at St. Catherine of the Hills convent telling me that Catherine Jameson, now Catherine Parker, needed help. Catherine brought a couple -- a man named Charles and a woman named Margaret -- to me and asked me to shelter them. They had had their sons abducted, and were afraid and on the run, and Margaret was 8 months pregnant with her third child -- your sister, Emily."
Jarod's breath caught, remembering the person who had crashed his website. He couldn't quite hide the grin.
"So," Harriet said, "I took them in and hid them. Emily was born one month after they went into seclusion. Years later, after I lost all contact with Catherine, I started getting threatening mail and telephone calls from Kyle, who had somehow figured out that I had a connection to your parents. He was desperate. And after I was kidnapped, and managed to escape from Kyle, your--and his--family vanished, and I went into hiding."
Jarod stared at Harriet. "I have a sister. And my parents' names are Margaret and Charles."
"Don't forget your brother."
"As if I could."
[ooc: NFB due to distance.]