Room 234/236 - After Caritas, Sunday late evening
Parker, still half-buzzed after visiting Caritas, settled in on her bed (yay, bed) with Esme (yay, Esme!) and the envelope that Jarod had given her (boo, envelope).
Inside were: a red notebook, containing an obituary for a serviceman who had commited suicide in Mira Loma, California. Official Air Force press releases, detailing the circumstances, details of the body's discovery, and the investigation. And a note from Jarod, telling her not to worry, that he was going to California, that he'd be back on Monday. He probably would have mailed it to her like that, if she hadn't stopped by the bar on Friday night.
She flopped back on the bed, and tried to think straight, tried to put together the details in the articles with why it would interest Jarod. Clearly, he thought something had gone wrong, somewhere. Maybe someone drove the serviceman to suicide. Maybe it *wasn't* a suicide. But how did he pick up on that, from the little information in front of her?
Closing her eyes, she tried to push the events of the weekend aside to concentrate.
It wasn't easy.
She'd visited the gym after talking to Jarod on Friday. Sparring with Aeryn had helped her temper, and then she'd dragged a half-drunk Alanna out of there. She'd finally gotten an explanation for that this morning; it didn't change her opinion of Duke Roger of Conte, who she'd met at the Career Fair, one bit.
Saturday was... a dead loss. Considering she hadn't been herself, she'd been some slinky tramp named ChaCha, who had... *gag* kissed Anakin, hit on Dean, danced with Kawalsky, made a spectacle of herself again, then had another reason to scrub out her mouth, then, oh yay, put the moves on Jack.
Call it a wash.
Parker pushed her hands through her hair, trying to think. Trying to put together the similarities between Jarod's last trip, and this one.
She fell asleep on her bed, still trying to figure it out.
[open for Jack]
Inside were: a red notebook, containing an obituary for a serviceman who had commited suicide in Mira Loma, California. Official Air Force press releases, detailing the circumstances, details of the body's discovery, and the investigation. And a note from Jarod, telling her not to worry, that he was going to California, that he'd be back on Monday. He probably would have mailed it to her like that, if she hadn't stopped by the bar on Friday night.
She flopped back on the bed, and tried to think straight, tried to put together the details in the articles with why it would interest Jarod. Clearly, he thought something had gone wrong, somewhere. Maybe someone drove the serviceman to suicide. Maybe it *wasn't* a suicide. But how did he pick up on that, from the little information in front of her?
Closing her eyes, she tried to push the events of the weekend aside to concentrate.
It wasn't easy.
She'd visited the gym after talking to Jarod on Friday. Sparring with Aeryn had helped her temper, and then she'd dragged a half-drunk Alanna out of there. She'd finally gotten an explanation for that this morning; it didn't change her opinion of Duke Roger of Conte, who she'd met at the Career Fair, one bit.
Saturday was... a dead loss. Considering she hadn't been herself, she'd been some slinky tramp named ChaCha, who had... *gag* kissed Anakin, hit on Dean, danced with Kawalsky, made a spectacle of herself again, then had another reason to scrub out her mouth, then, oh yay, put the moves on Jack.
Call it a wash.
Parker pushed her hands through her hair, trying to think. Trying to put together the similarities between Jarod's last trip, and this one.
She fell asleep on her bed, still trying to figure it out.
[open for Jack]