Well, I have two apologies to make. First of all, the first story in this series, "Marked," was set right after the episode "Corn Man." The beginning part of this story starts before ‘Inner Sense.’ Part of this story is also intertwined with Inner Sense, The Pretender: 2001, and Island of the Haunted. Sorry if this confused anyone.

Also, I'm sorry that I was unable to get this out earlier. I had to take care of some family business.

DISCLAIMER: None of the characters are mine, save for Samantha. I'm not making any money off of this . . . sueing me would be pointless. Comments welcomed and appreciated!

- - - -

HARRIET TASHMAN’S RESIDENCE
NEW YORK

It was nighttime as Jarod stopped his car outside an apartment complex then looked over at Samantha. She was sound asleep in the passenger’s side, her head resting against the window. Jarod turned off the engine, then gently nudged Samantha’s shoulder.

“Sam,” he whispered. “We’re here.”

Samantha slowly stirred and opened her eyes. She looked around, a little confused at first as to where she was, then she got her bearings straight, remembering what Jarod had told her a couple of days ago. She yawned and stretched as much as she could in the car before grabbing her leather bag and getting out of the car as Jarod came over.

“You still haven’t told me exactly who it is we’re meeting,” Samantha said as she followed him inside the building.

“An old friend of my family’s,” Jarod replied. They walked quietly up some stairs and down a hall, where Jarod knocked quietly on an apartment door. They waited a few moments before the door was open, and an aged woman with red hair and a kind face smiled at them.

“Jarod,” she whispered. She and Jarod hugged. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It is,” Jarod replied. He turned to Samantha. “Harriet, this is Samantha. Samantha, this is Harriet Tashman.”

“Hi,” Samantha smiled.

“Hello, Samantha,” Harriet replied. “Please come in.” Harriet ushered the two Pretenders into her apartment. The two sat at Harriet’s kitchen table while she prepared some tea. “Jarod, you still haven’t told me what’s going on.”

“Harriet, Samantha is on the run from the Centre,” Jarod explained. “A week ago, I learned that she had been kidnapped for the same reason I had been. I rescued her, and we’ve been on the run ever since.”

Harriet brought a tray with cups and a hot kettle over to the table. She poured two cups of hot tea and gave them to Jarod and Samantha. “What can I do, Jarod?” she asked.

“I need to see an old friend, but I would prefer that Samantha stay here and rest for a while.”

“Jaord, I told you I wouldn’t be in the way,” Samantha spoke up.

Jarod smiled. “I know you won’t, Sam, but you’ve been through a lot, and I think you should just relax and gather your thoughts.” Samantha sighed in defeat as Jarod looked at Harriet. “She’s been through a lot recently, and I need her to stay with someone I trust.”

“Don’t you think the Centre will find out she’s here?” Harriet asked.

“I left clues scattered around the country; it’ll take them weeks to sort through them all. By that time, I should be back, and Samantha and I will be on our way.”

Harriet nodded. “Okay, Jarod. She can stay in the spare bedroom.”

Jarod got up and hugged Harriet. “Thank you.” He looked at his watch. “I have to go.” Samantha and Harriet followed him to the door. He and Samantha hugged.

“Be careful,” she whispered.

“I’ll try,” Jarod replied. “Do you have everything?”

Samantha nodded. “Phone, computer, gun, clothes, money, and some reading material.”

“And if there’s anything out of the ordinary,” he added. “I want you to call me, okay?”

“I will,” Samantha replied. Jarod turned back toward Harriet.

“Again, thank you,” he said.

“Don’t worry, Jarod,” Harriet said. “She’s in good hands.”

“I know she is,” Jarod replied as he opened the door and left the apartment. Harriet locked the door securely, then turned back to Samantha.

“Well, Samantha, is there anything I can get you?”

“Just call me Sam, please,” Samantha said. “And I’m just really tired right now.” Harriet smiled and led Samantha back to the spare bedroom.

- - - -

THE NEXT AFTERNOON . . .

Jarod drove down a dirt road in silence. He hoped he had done the right thing by leaving Samantha with Harriet, knowing the emotional upheaval she had experienced in the past week. Discovering not only was she a Pretender but that she had a brother, who turned out to be none other than Angelo . . . even Jarod still couldn’t believe it. Still, he knew that Samantha would be safe staying at Harriet’s.

Jarod stopped his car in the driveway of a familiar house and turned off the engine. Grabbing his things, he got out and went up to the front door. He knocked then waited. The door opened, and Zoe, grinning, threw herself into Jarod’s arms. They shared a passionate kiss.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she said as the pulled him inside.

“Me too,” Jarod replied. He looked around. “Where is your grandmother?”

“She is spending time with Linda and her hubby,” Zoe replied. She grinned slyly. “Which means we get the entire house to ourselves for one week.” Jarod chuckled slightly, but it was more out of force than humor. Zoe noticed immediately. “Jarod, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied.

“Don’t give me that. What is it?”

Jarod sighed. “Just been through a lot, recently, that’s all.”

“Anything you want to talk about? Perhaps over some sandwiches? I can whip some up really quickly.”

Jarod smiled. “Sure.” He left his things near the front door and followed Zoe to the kitchen.

- - - -

Samantha was laying on the small guestroom bed, flipping slowly through one of her favorite books, The Three Musketeers, when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Samantha replied without looking up. The door opened and Harriet came in, carrying a tray with a sandwich, an apple, and a glass of milk on it.

“Since you slept in late,” Harriet replied, “I made some lunch for you.”

Samantha looked up and smiled when she saw Harriet and the tray. She marked her spot in the book and put it on the nighstand as Harriet set the tray next to the book. The older woman sat in a reading chair nearby as Samantha began to eat.

“Thank you,” Samantha replied.

Harriet smiled. “Did you sleep well?” she asked.

“Fairly well, considering.”

Harriet’s gaze fell on Samantha’s book. She picked it up and read the title. “Les Tres Musketeers.”

“It’s my favorite book,” Samantha explained between eating. “Especially in French.”

“I don’t know much French,” Harriet replied. “But I have read this book before - in English. I enjoyed it so much.” She put the book down and noticed the photograph of Samantha’s parents. Her eyes widened slightly as she took the photograph and stared at it. “It can’t be,” she whispered.

“What?” Samantha asked.

“Your parents are Benjamin and Marie Wilson?”

Samantha sat up straighter. “You know them?”

“Yes, I do. Well, I did, anyway.”

“How?”

Harriet quickly put the photograph down and got up to leave. “It’s not important.”

Samantha quickly got up and blocked Harriet’s past. “I think it is. Now, how do you know my parents?”

Harriet looked at Samantha for a long time before she sighed and sat back in the chair. “You should sit down as well, Sam. It’s a complicated story.” Samantha sat on the edge of the bed, looking earnest as Harriet gathered her thoughts.

“I first learned about your parents through Jarod’s parents, when they came to stay with me after their two sons had been stolen from them. I didn’t talk much to Jarod’s parents, but I did overhear them talking about how they hoped Richard and Anna were safe.”

“Who are they?”

Harriet sighed and looked at Samantha seriously. “They’re your parents, Sam.”

“That’s not true,” Samantha replied. “My parents are Benjamin and Marie Wilson.”

“That’s what we wanted you to think. I overheard Jarod’s parents talking about how Richard and Anna’s little boy, Timmy, had also been taken from them in the same manner their boys had. After they left, I never heard any more about them. However, in 1979, a pregnant couple showed up on my doorstep. They were scared and on the run, told me they were friends with Charles and Margaret, Jarod’s parents, and they asked if they could stay with me. A few days later, a baby girl was born. They named her Samantha.”

“If that’s true, then who are these people?” Samantha asked, holding up the photo.

“They’re a couple I knew from my days as a nun,” Harriet explained. “In 1966, they lost all their children in a horrific car crash, and were very devastated by that loss, staying at the convent I was a part of.”

“How did they come to raise me?”

“Your parents were fearful that the same people who took Timmy, Jarod, and Kyle would one day come and take you in the same manner, and they didn’t want that. They wanted you to grow up as normally as possible. I talked with the couple at the convent, who were still living there, and explained the situation. Knowing it was the only way to keep you safe, your parents agreed to allow the couple to raise you as their own daughter, emphasizing to them to never tell you the truth. With the help of some people I knew, we were able to concoct new records for you and your new parents, starting in 1966. They moved away, your real parents left shortly after that, and I never saw or heard from them again.”

Samantha looked at the photo. “What about the photos?” she asked quietly.

“They were fabricated to make it appear you and your adoptive parents had the same eyes.” Harriet saw Samantha’s countenance faltering. She quickly got up from the chair and left the room. She returned a few moments later with a small metal box. She sat beside Samantha.

“When your parents left,” Harriet said, “they had me keep a few things.” She handed the box to Samantha and stood up. “I’ll let you have some time to yourself to look through it.” Harriet quietly left the room.

Samantha’s stomach was already knotting, and her throat felt tight as she slowly opened the box. Inside were a few objects: a black and white photo each of a young man, a young woman, and a small boy who couldn’t have been more than six. She deduced that they were her parents and brother, and that the pictures were taken before her brother had been stolen by the Centre. There was also another photo, this time with her father and two other men in Air Force uniforms. Samantha could see they had patches on their arms with a ring of fire on them. There was also a man’s gold ring inside the box. It had a black top with a gold ring of fire on it, the same kind that was on the patches.

Samantha fingered each item carefully as she blinked back tears. Her mind was whirling with all the information that Harriet had told her about. If it was true that the people in the photograph she had carried around with her weren’t her real parents, then it was quite possible that her real parents - hers and her brother’s - could still be alive.

Emotional fatigue took its toll on the young Pretender as she slid off the bed onto the floor, clutching the box tightly as she dissolved into soft sobs.

- - - -

WASHINGTON D.C.
FIVE NIGHTS LATER . . .

Miss Parker hurried over to where Jarod was propping Ethan up and helped him. The trio walked to the back of the train and stopped at the closed door. Miss Parker looked out the door before she opened it.

“Now what?” Miss Parker yelled to Jarod.

“We jump!” Jarod yelled. “Now!” The trio hesitated only a second before jumping off the moving subway train.

Two seconds later, on street level, the ground shook as fire burst through a manhole covering, and the car positioned over it was propelled upward. Moments later, the only sound that could be heard was a car alarm.

- - - -

THE NEXT MORNING . . .

Samantha and Harriet were sitting in the living room, watching a news report about an explosion that had happened the night before in a Washington, DC subway tunnel. Samantha was on her cell phone, only half watching.

“Early indications are sketchy,” the anchorman said, “but it appears that no one was injured. Authorities still have no answer as to what exactly happened. More on this story as it develops.”

Harriet flipped off the television set, then turned to Samantha. “Anything?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Samantha replied. She hung up. “He’s not answering his phone.”

“You know, Sam, he might not have even been there when the explosion occurred.”

“He was,” Samantha said. “I just know it.”

- - - -

EIGHT DAYS LATER . . .

Jarod has finished settling into his temporary living quarters in Boston, Massachusetts, and reached for his cell phone. He dialed a number and heard two rings before it was picked up.

“Jarod?” Samantha asked.

“Hi, Sam,” Jarod replied. He heard Samantha sigh with relief.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re okay. I was so worried; I couldn’t reach you. I - what happened?”

“It’s a long story, Sam. One I should probably tell you in person.”

“Where are you? When are you coming to pick me up?”

Jarod sighed and picked up the mysterious photo he had been sent with his mother and Miss Parker‘s mother standing together. “Sam, there’s been a change in plans. Something’s come up about my past, and I need to check it out.”

“What?” Samantha asked. “What do you mean?”

“It has to do with my mother . . . I need you to stay put until I check it out.”

Samantha sighed again, but Jarod could tell it was out of frustration. “Sure,” she mumbled.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I’ll be there as soon as I check it out, I promise.”

“I know.”

“How are things holding up where you are?”

Samantha chuckled wryly. “Well, ironically, you’re not the only person who’s found things out about your past.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I’ll wait until we’re together to tell you about it.”

“Okay.” Jarod hung up his phone and put it on the table next to his computer. He started at the photo, glancing not at the two women standing together, but at the symbol in the corner: eight skeletal symbols around the circumference of a table of some sort. Jarod stared at the picture for a long time before he glanced at his watch and grimaced. He grabbed a pair of black rimmed glasses from his bag and put them on before hurrying out of his apartment. He didn’t want to be late for his first day at the Dennison Museum.

- - - -

THE CENTRE
BLUE COVE, DELEWARE

Miss Parker, the photo of her mother and Jarod’s mother in hand, walked down the stairs to Sydney’s office, and stopped short when she saw Broots with him, talking frantically. She hurried over.

“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded. She winced slightly at his stench, finally able to get a good look at him. He hadn’t shaved in days and his clothes were wrinkled and dirty.

Broots cowered in his chair slightly. He looked nervous and scared. “Hey, take it easy, I just got in,” he said softly.

“He’s had quite a traumatic experience,” Sydney added.

“Such as?” Parker asked.

“Being arrested by Jarod for once,” Broots replied. “Then he sprung me and dumped me out on the side of the road. Since I didn’t have a lot of money or my phone, I couldn’t call anyone, and I had to walk back here. I just got off the phone with Debbie. She says you took care of her again, Miss Parker. Thanks.”

“No problem, Broots,” Parker said. She sighed as she held up the picture of her mother and Jarod’s mother.

“Still haven’t been able to find out who sent that?” Sydney asked.

“No,” Parker replied. “Even Jarod didn’t have a clue when I spoke to him a few days ago.” She put the photo on Sydney’s desk. “It doesn’t make sense. Who would want us to find out about this?”

“I wish I knew, Parker,” Sydney replied.

“So, what happened while I was gone?” Broots asked.

“Well, for starters, Ethan’s vanished,” Parker answered. “And Alex is dead. And then Jarod asks me the real reason why the Centre’s chasing him.”

“It’s because he’s a Pretender, right?” Broots asked.

“Who knows?” Parker replied. “Anyway, then Jarod and I both get this photograph of our mothers together, and I still haven’t been able to make heads or tails of it.” She sighed. “As if this place wasn’t weird enough.”

“Weird doesn’t even begin to describe this place,” Lyle said as he walked in. Cox was with him. Lyle looked at Broots. “Well, glad to see you’re in one piece, Broots.” He wrinkled his nose. “Although you do need to get cleaned up.”

“So, what rock have you two been hiding under recently?” Parker asked.

“While you three have been spending your time looking for Jarod,” Lyle replied, “I’ve decided that it was time to bring in Mr. Cox to assist me in another project.”

“And what would that be?” Sydney asked.

“Well, with the recent events that have happened,” Lyle explained, “all indications are that Jarod has been acting alone. Which means that he’s kept Samantha hidden. Somewhere.”

“That being the case, it should be relatively easy to find her,” Cox added. “And to bring her back to the Centre.”

“For what purpose?” Parker asked.

“For bait to get Jarod,” Lyle answered.

“I can assure you that Samantha will not be that easy to find,” Sydney replied. “Jarod has most likely taken precautions against anyone finding her.”

“We’ll see,” Mr. Cox replied smugly as he and Lyle left.

“You know, with all that’s happened,” Parker spoke up, “I forgot about her.”

“We all did, Parker,” Sydney nodded. “However, for Samantha’s sake, let’s hope Jarod hasn’t.”

- - - -

ELEVEN DAYS LATER . . .

Samantha was in the process of making her bed, after having taken a hot shower and eating a hearty breakfast, and was about to join Harriet in the living room, when her cellphone rang. She quickly answered it. “Jarod?”

“Hey, Sam. How are you doing?”

“Fine. Harriet’s been real nice to me, and I’m actually liking it here.” There was a pause. “Jarod, what is it?”

“I found my mother,” Jarod replied quietly. “Sort of.”

Samantha sat down on her bed, her heart pounding. “Oh, Jarod, that’s great.”

“I was told she was in Scotland.”

“Scotland?” Samantha asked.

“Yes, on the Isle of Carthis.”

“Should I even ask why?”

“I’ll explain everything when I get back. I promise.”

Samantha took a deep breath. “Wait. Don’t hang up yet.”

“What is it, Sam?”

Samantha had planned on waiting until she and Jarod were together before telling him, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity when it was so close. “When you find her, could you ask her if she’s seen my parents?”

“Sam, your parents are dead.”

“My adoptive parents are, but not my real parents.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a long story, but basically my parents gave me up for adoption after I was born so I wouldn’t be taken in the same way that you, your brother, and my brother had been. She knew my parents, Jarod, and she told me our parents knew each other as well; our fathers were friends in the Air Force.” There was a pause. “Jarod?”

“I’m here, Sam,” Jarod replied quietly. “It’s just . . . I can’t believe it.” He sighed. “I’ll be sure to ask my mother when I see her. I promise.”

“Thank you, Jarod. And be careful, please.”

“I will.” Jarod hung up. Samantha hung up as well, and went back to making her bed.

- - - -

Later that afternoon, Willie came walking into Lyle’s office, where he and Cox were talking. “Samantha has been located,” Willie said.

“Well, it’s about time,” Lyle replied.

“Where is she?” Cox asked.

“She’s staying with a woman that’s helped Jarod out before,” Willie replied. “Harriet Tashman. New York.”

Lyle nodded. “Let’s not keep her waiting, then.” He glanced at his good hand. “I have a score to settle with her.” Cox and Lyle left the office, with Willie close behind. Watching from the other side of the ventilation grate, Angelo quickly typed an email on the laptop next to him:

Sister in danger. Run.

- - - -

Harriet and Samantha were at the kitchen table, putting together a puzzle when Samantha’s computer sounded, “You have new mail.” Samantha looked confused.

“I’ll be right back,” she said slowly. She left the kitchen and went back to her room. A few moments passed, and then Harriet could hear shuffling coming from the spare room. Curious, she went to investigate. She saw Samantha with her bag on her bed, quickly stuffing her things into it, including the items Harriet had given her. She looked frightened.

“Sam, what’s wrong?” Harriet asked.

“They know I’m here,” Samantha replied. “I have to go.” She zipped up her bag and pushed past Harriet.

“The Centre?” Harriet asked following her. Samantha nodded furiously. “How could they know?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you called Jarod?”

“Jarod said he was on his way to Scotland, some island called Carthis. I’ll catch up to him there.” She opened the front door and started to leave, but Harriet stopped her long enough to hug her.

“Be careful,” she said.

“I will be,” Samantha replied. “Thank you, for everything.” She quickly left the apartment and headed down the stairs.

“God be with you,” Harriet whispered.

- - - -

DORNOCH, SCOTLAND
ONE DAY LATER . . .

Jarod pulled his coat closely around him as a cold gust of wind blew through the city of Dornoch. At any other time, he might have appreciated the old structures, curious of the histories behind them. However, he had more important things to worry about. He quickly walked in the direction of the docks, searching for a ferry to take him to Carthis. After he reached the docks, he quickly found a ship with an aged man working on his boat.

“Excuse me,” Jarod said. The man looked up. “When is the next ferry to Carthis?”

“There are no more ferries today, lad,” the man replied in a thick, Scottish accent. “There’s a storm headed this way.”

“Please,” Jarod urged. “It’s important that I get there.”

The man looked up at Jarod. He could see nothing but sincerity on the man’s face. He sighed. “Very well,” the man replied. “I can give you a lift there. Just let me finish fixing up my boat.”

- - - -

TWELVE HOURS LATER . . .

Samantha pulled her coat tightly around her as a cold and fierce wind blew in the night air. She had made it to as close to the Isle of Carthis as she could, then asked about ferries. After receiving many strange looks and getting no response from the locals, Samantha pushed through the wind as she hurried over to the docks, the only place that offered transportation to Carthis. There was no one at the docks, just a bunch of boats tied up, rocking in the choppy water. She headed toward one of the boats, intent on driving herself to Carthis when a strong hand grabbed her arm. She shrieked and turned around. Instead of a Sweeper or even Lyle standing next to her, there was an elderly gentleman looking at her sternly.

“What in Heaven’s name are you doing out here, lass?” he shouted with a thick, Scottish accent over the wind.

“I have to get to Carthis!” she shouted back.

“Are you daft?” the man asked. “The Devil’s Storm is here! It’s too dangerous to leave for Carthis now!”

“Please, I need to get there now! It’s important!”

“Why would you be wanting to go there anyhow? Don’t you know that the place is haunted, that God Himself was offended on that island?”

“The only thing I know about is that my friend said he was going to that island, and I have to find him!”

“Lass, that island was evacuated hours ago! I know, I helped evacuate the people off myself!”

Samantha stared at the man for a moment, then quickly rummaged around in her bag. She pulled out a photo of Jarod - one she had gotten from one of his identification tags - and held it up. “Was this man with you?”

The man studied the picture. “The archeologist! I remember him! Very interested in getting to that island, he was! I took him there hours ago! But I’m afraid that he wasn’t in the evacuation boats, which means he must still be on Carthis!”

“Then you have to take me there!” Samantha replied.

“I can’t do that, lass! It would be too dangerous!”

Samantha reached into her backpack and pulled out all her money - almost two-hundred dollars in American bills. “This is all the money I have! I need to get on that island, sir!”

The man looked at the money, then back at Samantha. He could see desperation in her face, mixed with fear. He had never seen anyone so willing to risk their life to find someone as she appeared to be. He sighed and pushed her hands away. “Keep your money, lass! I’ll take you to Carthis!” Samantha sighed with relief.

- - - -

Samantha clung to the side of the boat as the man turned off the engine. He helped Samantha onto the ground, and handed her bag to her, but he refused to get out himself.

“I’ll wait for you here, lass!” he shouted. “One hour, then I go back!”

“Okay!” Samantha nodded. She and the man looked toward Dornoch as the sound of a helicopter rotors grew louder. They could see a light in the night sky growing larger. A few seconds later, a helicopter flew overhead. The two watched as it dip into the forest a distance away.

“Wonder what that’s about?” the man asked.

“I don’t know!” Samantha replied as she put her bag on her shoulders. “But I get the feeling it isn’t good!” She took off in the direction of where the helicopter landed, leaving the man with his ship.

- - - -

Parker and Jarod stared in shock as Mr. Parker, Mr. Lyle, and Raines walked into the crypt room. “Daddy?” she asked.

“Sure as hell not Santa Claus," answered Mr. Parker. He looked at Brother Renaldus, who was dead on the crypt room floor. “Brother Renaldus has been my faithful servant for years, but God does not forgive acts of aggression against one's mother, and neither do I.”

“Now I can radio Adama that we have the scrolls,” Raines said. He looked at Jarod. “And Jarod.” Raines turned around and left.

“Long live the Centre,” Mr. Parker said smugly.

- - - -

Samantha carefully ran down a path, seeing an ancient building, and the helicopter nearby. She hurried toward it as she heard voices. She came to a halt about fifty yards away, however, when she saw a group of people emerge from the building. She knelt behind a nearby tree and peeked around. She squinted hard to see who the people were.

An aged man dressed in a suit came out first. He had white hair and a mustache, and was balding. He was dressed in a dark suit with a red scarf. Behind him was another man, but he was bald and wheeling a tank behind him, which was attached to two tubes that ran into his nose. Samantha shuddered involuntarily, then gasped when she saw Lyle behind the bald man.

“What the hell is going on in here?” she whispered. She squinted hard as some other men came out, and she nearly cried out loud. Jarod came out of the building, hands tied in front of him, two men on either side of him. Miss Parker was behind them. Everyone got into the helicopter, and Samantha watched in disbelief as it took off and flew away.

The young woman watched the sky for a long time after the helicopter had vanished from her sight, tears stinging her eyes. She took in a deep breath as she got to her feet, a determined look on her face. She knew where Jarod was headed, and she knew what she had to do.

- - - -

THE CENTRE
ONE DAY LATER . . .

Samantha almost got a feeling of déjà vu as she crawled through the ventilation tunnels of the Centre. She was tired and exhausted, hungry, and dirty, but she was determined not to leave without Jarod. She came to the end of a tunnel she remembered and carefully peeked out through the grate, just as Broots ran by and into Sydney’s office. Sydney was working at his desk when Broots burst in.

“Syd, you’ll never believe what I just heard,” he said breathlessly.

“What is it, Broots?”

“The plane carrying Jarod, Miss Parker, Raines, Lyle, Mr. Parker, and Adama and his men crashed.”

Sydney jerked his head up in concern as he stood up. “And?” he asked.

Broots shrugged. “Well, that’s all I was told, but I got the feeling that I wasn’t told everything. I mean, Raines survived, because I was also told he’s now in charge.” He paused. “You don’t think everyone else died, do you?”

“I hope not.” Broots and Sydney turned around and saw Samantha standing in the doorway. They were both clearly surprised to see her. Her bag was slung over her shoulders.

“Samantha, what are you doing here?” Sydney asked in a hushed manner.

“I saw Jarod being taken away on Carthis, and I came to the Centre to rescue him,” Samantha explained. “I thought he was being brought back here.”

“You don’t look so hot,” Broots said.

“I don’t feel so hot,” Samantha replied curtly. “I’m tired, I’m dirty, I’m hungry, I have no idea where Jarod is or if he’s even still alive, I’ve lost my cell phone on my way back from Carthis, and I just recently found out a few things about myself that I’m not sure what to make of.” She sighed and leaned against the doorframe, rubbing her head. “I, um, I should probably go.”

“Where will you go?” Sydney asked.

“I don’t know, yet.” She paused. “How’s Angelo been?”

“Aside from being concerned about you, nothing much,” Sydney replied.

“I wish I could see him,” she replied softly.

Sydney watched the young woman for a moment, then left his office without saying a word. Broots looked at the young Pretender, and felt sorry for her. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bag of Funyuns. He handed them to Samantha.

“Here,” he said. “I know it’s not much, but they’re really good. And you look hungry.” Samantha looked at the bag, then at Broots. A small, grateful smile appeared on her tired face as she came over, took the bag, and began eating them. For a long time, no one said a word.

“Did you always want to be a part of the Centre?” Samantha asked suddenly.

“Well, I always wanted to do computer programming,” Broots replied. “The Centre offered me a job, and I took it.” Samantha glanced up at him. “But I didn’t know what exactly they did at the time,” he added quickly.

“Did you ever just want to walk away? Have a normal life?”

“Hell yeah, but I can’t. My daughter . . . I worry what would happen to her if I did.” Samantha looked at him sympathetically. “You know, Samantha -”

“Sam,” the young woman interrupted quietly.

“Sam,” Broots repeated, “I don’t think Jarod was killed in that plane crash. I mean, look at us. The Centre’s - been chasing him for five years now. I don’t think he would have let a simple plane crash kill him.”

Samantha chuckled wryly. “I know, Broots. You wouldn’t happen to know exactly where the plane crashed, do you?”

“Morocco, but I don’t think you should go there. It could be dangerous.”

Samantha seemed to accept that, and went back to eating the Funyuns. She glanced out the door as she heard footsteps approaching, and did a double-take. Sydney was coming back, and he had Angelo with him. She waited until Sydney and Angelo were inside the office before Samantha all but threw herself at her brother, hugging him tightly. Angelo, a bit startled at first, slowly returned the hug.

“Sister,” he whispered, holding her tightly. “Sister scared.” Samantha chuckled slightly as she pulled away, and everyone saw she had tears running down her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Broots asked.

“No, I’m not okay,” Samantha answered, trying to keep what little of her composure she still had. “A few months ago, I was going about my business, being a normal twenty-two-year old college student who planned on being a psychologist, and now I think I need one after everything that’s happened. I mean, I just found out a few weeks ago that . . . well, that my life wasn’t what I thought it was originally.” She sighed. “I really should go, and try to find Jarod if there’s a chance he’s still alive.”

“Sam, Jarod isn’t that easy of a person to find,” Sydney replied. “He’s always been one step ahead of the Centre. You know that.”

“I know, Sydney, but I think I know how I can find him.”

“How?” Broots asked.

“I’m a Pretender, remember?” Samantha gave her brother a small kiss on the cheek before heading out of the office. Everyone watched as she entered the ventilation tunnel she had previously used and disappeared from sight.

“What do you think she meant by that?” Broots asked.

“To find Jarod,” Angelo replied slowly, “she must be Jarod.” He didn’t say anything else as he also disappeared into the ventilation tunnel as well, just as Sydney and Broots heard footsteps approaching. A figure came into the light, and they saw it was Miss Parker. She didn’t appear too happy.

“You’re alive!” Broots smiled.

“Just barely,” Miss Parker replied. “Do you know what happened to me last night?”

“Your plane crashed,” Sydney replied.

Miss Parker looked at him. “How did you know that?”

“Word travels fast. Did everyone make it out okay?”

“Everyone except Adama and his goons. And my fath-” Miss Parker sighed. “He parachuted out of the plane. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“So, Jarod escaped?” Broots asked.

“Yes, Jarod escaped,” Miss Parker replied curtly. She rubbed her temples. “Syd, Broots, are you sure about those results? I mean, is it really possible that Raines is my real father?”

“The results speak for themselves, Parker.” Sydney looked closely at Miss Parker. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Parker replied. “I just wish I knew the truth, that’s all.” She sat on the edge of Sydney’s desk.

“This must have been an emotionally trying time for you,” Sydney said.

“Are you okay, Miss Parker?” Broots asked.

“I don’t know, Broots, but thanks.” Miss Parker looked sincere. “I just want everything to -” Miss Parker stopped herself. “I almost said that I wanted everything to get back to normal. There’s no such thing around here.”

“Particularly now that Raines is in charge,” Broots added.

Miss Parker looked up. “Raines?” Broots and Sydney shared a look.

“You didn’t hear?” Broots asked.

Before she could say anything, Parker looked past Broots and saw Raines and Lyle walk into the office.

“You look surprised to see me,” Raines wheezed.

- - - -

LATER . . .

“If they’re real,” replied Jarod before he broke his connection with Miss Parker. He leaned back and contemplated what they had just talked about, staring out the window of his motel room. Jarod wasn’t sure what to make of it all, and he really didn’t want to think about it at the moment. He was exhausted, but he knew there was one person he needed to call. He dialed Samantha’s number and waited as it rang.

“The cellular party you are trying to reach is unavailable,” he heard an automated voice reply. Jarod hung up, only slightly worried as he dialed another number.

“Hello?” Harriet Tashman answered on the third ring.

“It’s Jarod.”

“Jarod, is Sam okay?”

Jarod sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“She’s not with you?”

“No, she’s supposed to be with you.”

“Jarod, she received an email on her computer a few days ago. I don’t know who sent it, but she said the Centre had figured out where she was. She left very quickly, saying she was going to Carthis to meet you. I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Why didn’t she call me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did anyone show up asking about her?”

“A few days ago. A man with dark hair and a British accent. He and a couple of his men came in and started looking for Sam.”

“Cox,” Jarod whispered to himself. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“No. Sam took everything that could have been linked to her when she left. They left, and I haven’t seen them since.”

Jarod sighed as he stood up. “I’ll find her, Harriet.” He hung up, then went about packing up his things. Exhausted or not, he had to find Samantha. He only hoped she was okay. As he finished packing up, his phone rang.

“Sam?” he answered after the first ring.

“It’s Sydney. I was just calling to tell you how relieved I am that you’re fine.”

“Sydney, I can’t talk right now,” Jarod replied.

“Jarod, Samantha was at the Centre a few hours ago.”

Jarod stopped short. “What was she doing there?”

“She saw you taken away at Carthis and was planning on rescuing you.”

“Was she okay?”

“Physically, she was fine. Emotionally, she seemed very troubled: she was worried about your well-being, her well-being, and something about her past that she didn’t want to talk about.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

“No, I’m afraid not. She did, however say she was going to try and find you.”

“Did she say how?”

“Specifically, no, but after what Angelo said, I knew what she meant.”

“What did he say?”

“‘To find Jarod, she must be Jarod.’”

Jarod sighed. “She’s going to use her skills to find me by doing what I’ve done in the past.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to find her, Sydney.” Jarod hung up, grabbed his things, and quickly left the motel room.

- - - -

TALBERT'S QUARTER HORSES
CARROLLTON, GEORGIA
THREE DAYS LATER . . .

A taxi cab pulled up in front of the entrance to Talbert’s Quarter Horse equestrian facility. The back door opened and Samantha got out. She was dressed in a hunter green t-shirt with a black leather jacket over it, blue jeans, and a pair of black leather work boots. Her hair was pulled back with a black headband. The young woman took some money out of her backpack and paid the driver. “Keep the change,” she said.

“Thanks,” the driver replied. Samantha slung her backpack over her shoulders as the taxi drove away, and she just stared at the property. It was fairly large, easily over a hundred acres, black fencing everywhere. The entrance had a sign of the Ranch’s symbol - TQH linked together - on a large wooden sign hanging on the fence nearby. A walkway led to a small building nearby, and Samantha made her way over.

The inside of the building was more spacious than the outside gave it credit. There was a large office space, with a desk pushed off to one side, some filing cabinets near it, and a water cooler as well. There was also a couch, some chairs, and plants off to the other side. All the windows were opened, allowing light to filter in.

“Hello?” Samantha called out. No one answered. She waited a few more moments, then went back outside. She made her way down another path on the walk that led around the small building and toward a two-story house. It reminded Samantha of her home in Minnesota, with it’s rustic look, white paint, light-colored shutters, big porch with a swing, and lots of window, and she allowed herself a small smile.

About a hundred yards from the house was another house. It wasn’t quite as rustic-looking, and it was only one-story, but it was still very homey in appearance. Fifty yards from that was a large, covered stable area. There were a few men milling about, some leading horses in and about, others working on some equipment. Samantha walked over to a fifty-something year old man leading a horse out of the stable.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I’m looking for Edward Talbert.”

“I’m Edward Talbert,” the man said, stopping. “And you are?” Samantha smiled and held out her hand, but before she could utter a word, a piercing neigh echoed inside the stable.

“What the hell?” Talbert muttered. He quickly handed the horse over to another man who came out, then took off into the stable. Samantha took off after him. She followed him down a concrete walkway and saw he had stopped near a group of two men, gathered around a stall. “Damn, not again.”

Samantha approached and saw what the commotion was. A chestnut brown horse was going ballistic inside the stall, rearing up, pawing in the air, knocking its buckets around, and stirring up its shavings.

“Someone get a tranquilizer,” Talbert shouted. One of the men brushed past Samantha and ran off. Samantha turned her attention to the horse, then removed her backpack and set it aside. She took off her jacket, pushed past the men and reached for the stall door handle, but the other man stopped her.

“What do you think you’re doing, Missy,” he demanded.

“Trying to keep your horse from killing himself,” Samantha replied calmly.

“You’re going to get yourself killed if you go in there,” the man said. “We’re going to tranquilize him.”

“There’s no time,” Samantha retorted. She jerked free of the man’s grasp, then quickly opened the stall door. The horse continued to thrash around, neighing, but Samantha only took a deep breath as she stepped inside.

“Easy,” she said in a calm voice. “Easy, boy.” The horse stopped rearing up, but he still paced around nervously, neighing softly. Samantha carefully took her jacket and placed it over the horse’s face. The horse slowly stopped pacing, but it was still neighing. She ran her hand down his neck and back. “Good boy.” She looked at Talbert and the other men. “Can I have his halter and rope, please?”

Talbert grabbed a purple halter and rope from a hook nearby and handed it to Samantha. She carefully removed her jacket, still speaking in soft tones, and quickly slipped the halter on. Holding firmly to the rope, she led the horse out of the stall. She smiled at the two men and continued stroking the horse’s face.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Talbert said as he and the other man came over. At that moment, the man who had run off earlier returned with a tranquilizer gun in his hands. Talbert frowned at him. “Jeff, go put it back, we don’t need it.” Jeff looked puzzled for a moment, then walked away.

“See, all he needed was to hear something soothing,” Samantha replied. She handed the rope to Talbert. “Here.”

“Thanks, Miss . . .”

“Bailey. Samantha Bailey.”

“You’re Samantha Bailey?” the other man asked. Samantha was able to get a good look at him for the first time. He was in his mid-thirties, with brown hair and green eyes. He wearing a plaid working shirt, jeans, and work boots. “That’s weird.”

“How come?” Samantha asked.

“We’re supposed to be getting a horse trainer today,” Talbert replied. “Her name is Samantha Bailey.”

Samantha smiled. “That would be me.”

“Yeah, right,” the man replied. Samantha went over to her backpack and rummaged around in it. She pulled out a Georgia State Driver’s License with her picture on it and handed it to the man. The man read it, then glanced at Samantha, handing back her license.

“Is this a joke?” he asked.

“Why would it be, Mr. -”

“Mackenzie,” the man answered. “Robert Mackenzie.”

“Well, Mr. Mackenzie,” Samantha replied, “I may be a bit younger than the trainers you’re used to working with, but I’m experienced, out of college, and unemployed at the moment, and I heard there was an opening that came up here, and I was asked by Mr. Talbert to come and see him.” Talbert and Mackenzie looked slightly uncomfortable. “Am I mistaken?”

“No, Miss Bailey,” Talbert replied. “As I said before, there is an opening.” He sighed. “Normally, I wouldn’t be giving this job to someone so young, but you’ve showed that you can handle this work. You have the job, if you want it.” He stroked the horse’s head.

“What did you mean by ‘not again?’” Samantha asked. Both men looked at her oddly. “You said that earlier as you came over.”

“Skippy’s been behaving this way ever since the fire,” Talbert explained. “Nearly burned to death in his stall.” He handed Skippy’s rope to Mackenzie. “Put him in another stable.”

“Sure thing,” Mackenzie said. He nodded curtly at Samantha, then walked off with Skippy. Talbert turned to Samantha and gave a warm smile.

“So, Miss Bailey, do you have a place in town?”

“Actually, not yet,” Samantha replied.

“Well, there is the farmhands’ quarters,” Talbert said. “There are four rooms, three of which are occupied. It’s got a full kitchen, bathroom, and a living room. You’re more than welcome to stay there until you find a more permanent residence, if you don’t mind having three men around.”

“As long as they treat me with respect, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that, Miss Bailey. They’re as gentle as kittens.” Samantha grinned. Talbert cleared his throat. “Also, the room did belong to a former trainer who died a few weeks ago. Will that bother you?”

“It shouldn’t,” Samantha replied. “And I’m sorry to hear about your loss.”

Talbert nodded briefly, then he walked out of the stable with Samantha following. As they headed to the one-story house, a little girl - no more than ten - came running up to Talbert.

“Uncle Eddie,” she squealed.

Talbert immediately scooped her up and gave her a big hug. “Hey, there Munchkin,” he said, putting her down. “How’s your folks doing?”

“Okay,” the girl replied. She turned to Samantha. “Who’s she?”

“This is Samantha,” Talbert replied. “She’s our new horse trainer.” The girl’s face clouded up at this, and she bolted away. Samantha looked at Talbert.

“Our last horse trainer died in a fire a few weeks ago,” Talbert explained.

“The same one that Skippy was nearly killed in?”

Talbert nodded. “Munchkin - Gloria - was getting lessons from the trainer at the time.”

“Were they close?” Samantha asked.

“Very. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” Talbert walked off. Samantha stared in the direction that Gloria had gone, then followed Talbert. They went inside the house, and Talbert stopped in a large room. The room had a hardwood floor and was spacious enough to fit a television, a couch and loveseat, a bookshelf, two reclining chairs, and some end tables in it.

“This is the living room,” he replied. He nodded toward a door on the far side. “That’s the kitchen in there. There’s an eating area in there.” He walked down a hallway, past three doors. “The bathroom is the third door.” He stopped at the end of the hallway, where a fourth door was. He opened the door and went inside. “Here’s your bedroom.” Samantha came inside and looked around.

The room was only ten feet wide and fifteen feet in length, but it had a single bed, nightstand with a lamp, dresser with mirror, and a small desk on it. The single window had its curtain tied back, allowing sunshine to filter in. Like the living room, the bedroom had a hardwood floor.

“Is there a modem hookup?” Samantha asked.

“Yeah, phone and internet. Why?”

“Well, in my spare time, I was going to look for apartments online.”

“Near the desk. The jack’s near the desk.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll give you an hour to get rested and get some food, if you want, then I want you to come to the arena. I got some customers I want you to meet and get to know.”

“Okay.” Samantha nodded. Talbert left the room, shutting the door behind him. The young woman put her backpack on the bed and rummaged through it. She pulled out her laptop and put it on the desk, then pulled out a folder that had some newspaper clippings in it. She read each headline silently:

CARROLTON HORSE TRAINER DIES IN STABLE FIRE

DEATH OF CARROLTON HORSE TRAINER RULED ACCIDENTAL

They both showed a picture of the deceased, thirty-one-year-old Michael Madison. Samantha sighed as she stared at the picture, hoping she could pull off what she came to do.

- - - -

DEKALB COUNTY ANIMAL CONTROL
ATLANTA, GEORGIA

The Animal Control truck pulled into one of the spaces near the facility. Jarod, dressed in an Animal Control officer uniform, got out and went to the back of the truck. He opened the doors. The single dog he had picked up earlier - a small, white, furry dog with a dark collar and shiny tag - started barking at him from its cage. Jarod simply smiled as he opened up the cage he was in and carefully lifted the dog out. He held the dog firmly and gently as he closed the doors. He then walked over to the back of the facility and walked in.

Jaord was instantly met by the sound of dogs barking, but it didn’t seem to faze him one bit. He walked down an aisle that was sandwiched in between two rows of dog kennels, most of them having with dogs of all breeds and sizes in them, until he came to an empty kennel. He opened up the door and gently put the dog down. He closed the door, then knelt down.

“Don’t worry, Charlie,” he said, remembering the name he saw on the collar. “I’ll call Sandy right now so she can come and get you.” Charlie just started barking with the other dogs. Jarod smiled as he stood up and walked to the office area, pulling out a small spiral notebook from his pocket.

He had been Pretending to be an animal control officer for two days and was glad to see an animal he picked up having a collar on it. Jarod went to the office, flipping through the notebook until he found the right page, and walked over to the phone. He dialed the number he had written down.

“Hello?” a young, female voice asked.

“Is this Sandy Li?”

“Yeah, who is this?”

“Miss Li, my name is Jarod Sharpe, I work with the Dekalb County Animal Shelter.”

“Is this about Charlie? Have you found him?”

“Could you describe him for me, please?”

“White, curly fur. He’s a foot and a half tall, forty-five pounds, and he has a dark collar on.”

Jarod smiled. “Miss Li, I just picked Charlie up. He’s fine.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Sandy sighed with relief. “Can I come get him now?”

“Sure. Do you know where we’re located?”

“Yes. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Jarod hung up the phone, just as another animal control officer came into the office. He was a tab shorter than Jarod, with light brown hair, green eyes, a lit cigarette in his mouth. His name was Brad Fischer.

“Hey, Jarod,” he said. “Finish your run, already?”

“Hey, Brad,” Jarod replied. “Yeah, I’m done. A Sandy Li will be coming to pick up her dog, Charlie. He’s in Number Three.”

“Okay.” He held up a silver lava lamp he was holding. “I just bought this for my desk. You like?”

Jarod looked closely at the lamp. “What is it?”

“What, you never saw a lava lamp before?” Brad asked.

“Lava lamp?” Jarod asked slowly. He cocked his head to one side. “Has someone discovered a material that can withstand the heat from lava?”

Brad gave him an odd look. “It’s not real lava, Jarod. They just call it that.” He went over to his desk nearby and put the lamp down. He plugged it in, then turned it on. “The lamp heats up the liquid and it floats in bubbles to the top. It’s very calming.”

Jarod watched the lamp for a few moments, then glanced at a picture beside the lamp. It showed Brad and another man standing in front of the building, arms around each other, smiling. Jarod picked up the picture.

“Is this Jason Reed?” he asked.

Brad glanced down at the photo, and his face clouded over slightly. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

“I read about what happened to him in the papers,” Jarod replied as he put the photo back on the desk. “I’m sorry.”

“I told him he should have let me drive him home,” Brad said. “But he was a very stubborn guy.” He sighed. “If I knew what would have happened, I would have made him give me his keys.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Jarod said gently. Brad shrugged and left the office. After he had disappeared around the corner, Jarod went over to another desk nearby and opened the top right drawer. Inside was a red notebook. Jarod pulled it out and flipped it open, revealing several newspaper clippings. He silently read each headline:

DEKALB COUNTY ANIMAL CONTROL OFFICER KILLED IN EXPLOSION

ANIMAL CONTROL OFFICER CAR CRASH RULED ACCIDENTAL

Jarod sighed as he looked at the newspaper clippings. The sound of footsteps approaching caused Jarod to quickly stuff the notebook back inside the desk, just as a female Animal Control officer came walking in. She was of medium height and build, with red hair, blue eyes, and wearing a baseball cap the same color as her uniform with DCAC embroidered on it. Her name was Tammy Kersh.

“So, getting settled in, Jarod?” she asked.

“Pretty much,” Jarod replied. “Thanks for asking, Tammy.” He noticed that Tammy was glancing at the photo of Brad and Jason. “You okay?”

Tammy sighed. “I know it’s been two weeks, but I still can’t believe he’s gone, Jarod. He was a good man.”

“What happened, exactly?”

“Well, from what Brad was telling me, he and Jason were working late. They were leaving when Brad noticed that Jason looked very tired, and he offered to drive him home. Jason refused, Brad tried to get him to reconsider, but Jason would hear of it - he was always stubborn like that. Anyway, Jason got in his car and drove off. Next morning, I get a call from Brad saying Jason had been killed in a car accident.”

“And the police ruled it an accident?”

“Yeah, they said he fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into a telephone pole. Coroner found nothing unusual during the autopsy.” Tammy blinked back tears and cleared her throat. “Well, I better, um, get to cleaning those kennels.” She left the office, leaving Jarod to himself.

- - - -

THE CENTRE
BLUE COVE, DELWARE

Broots walked into the Simulation Lab and saw Sydney and Miss Parker talking. Having gotten a cryptic phone call from Miss Parker earlier in the morning, saying nothing more than to meet her and Sydney at the Centre ASAP, he hurried down the stairs to join them. “So, what’s going on?” he asked.

“Change of plans.” Everyone looked to see Cox and Lyle appear from the shadows and walk toward them. It was Lyle who had spoken.

“Now what?” Parker asked.

“Did you get the memo?” Lyle asked.

“What memo?”

Lyle handed a piece of paper to Parker, who snatched it from his hand and read it silently. When she was done she looked at her brother.

“How in the hell did you get that approved?” she asked.

“Actually, it was my idea,” Cox replied. “Raines was more than willing to approve it, since it gives us more of a chance of catching Jarod.”

“We expect your full cooperation,” Lyle added.

“What’s going on?” Broots asked nervously.

“Raines wants us to also focus on catching Samantha,” Parker replied.

“Why?” Sydney asked.

“Because she’s as much of a threat to the Centre as Jaord is,” Cox answered. He held up a small file folder, smiling. “She is quite an interesting young woman. I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Oh, I bet not,” Parker replied coolly. She gave a slight smirk to Cox and Lyle. “I take it you haven’t found her yet.”

“Not yet,” Lyle said curtly. “However, it’s only a matter of time before we do.”

“You underestimated her before, Lyle,” Sydney replied. “It cost you your car, and nearly your other thumb.”

“That was only because she had Jarod with her, Sydney,” Lyle said curtly. “However, she and Jarod are now separated. Samantha has no guidance, no idea what to do next. She may be a Pretender, but she’s far from being Jarod.” He and Cox left the Sim Lab.

“He plans on using her to get Jarod,” Parker replied.

“And if he succeeds?” Broots asked.

“We’ll be as good as dead,” Sydney replied. Broots swallowed hard. Sydney turned to Parker. “What’s our next move?”

“We find Samantha before Lyle and Cox do,” Parker replied. “Not much else we can do.” She turned to her teammates. “So, any ideas where to start looking?”

“Not a clue,” Broots said. “All we know is that she’s going to be looking for Jarod, but she -” He suddenly realized what he just said, and slowly looked at Parker.

“What did you say?” she asked, glaring at him.

Broots cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, n-n-nothing.”

“She was here, wasn’t she?” Parker asked in a threatening tone.

“Briefly,” Sydney replied.

Parker looked at Sydney as if he had grown another head. “When?”

“Three days ago. She was searching for Jarod, thinking he had been taken here after being caught on Carthis. When she found out he had escaped in Morocco, she left.”

“So, what did she say?” Parker persisted.

“She was going to find Jarod by doing what he does,” Broots replied. “But she didn’t say how or where or anything.”

“Perfect.” Parker sighed. “Syd, what’s your diagnosis?”

“I think Lyle underestimates Samantha. After all, she did manage to break into the Centre undetected, just like Jarod did.”

“You think she actually has a chance out there on her own?” Parker asked.

“I think so,” Sydney replied. “She may not be Jarod, but she’s still a Pretender.”

- - - -

Samantha held tightly to a lunge line, watching as her ‘pupil’ - a sorrel quarter horse by the name of Peanut Butter - trotted in a large circle, the other end of the lunge line attached to his halted. She mooched softly, and Peanut Butter eased into a graceful canter.

“Good boy,” she said softly as she watched him canter. She kept it up for about five minutes, then eased him down into trot once again, then a walk. After she was satisfied he was cooled down, she stopped him, then walked him over to the edge of the arena. Talbert was waiting with Peanut Butter’s owner - a thirty-something-year-old woman.

“He’s a good horse,” Samantha said as she handed Peanut Butter over to his owner. “I noticed, however, that when he goes from a trot to a canter, he hesitates slightly, which throws him completely off balance, and causes him to stumble for a few feet.”

“How long should it take to correct it?” the woman asked.

“Well, I don’t want to rush him,” Samantha replied, “but he doesn’t seem like a troublemaker of any kind, so it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Thank you,” the woman replied. She left with Peanut Butter.

“Where did you learn how to train horses?” Talbert asked as Samantha removed her working gloves.

“I grew up around them.”

“Well, it shows. Keep up the good work.” Talbert left, leaving Samantha alone in the arena. She sighed as she stuffed her gloves in the back pocket of her jeans.

“So, where did you grow up?” Samantha looked around for the source of the voice. “Up here.” Samantha looked up, and saw a young man sitting up in the hayloft on a bale of hay. He was about her age, with brown hair. He was dressed in jeans, a dirty work shirt, and boots.

“Uh . . . Montana,” Samantha replied.

“Figures,” the young man said as he made his way down to the ground.

“Excuse me?”

The young man stopped about ten feet off the ground and jumped the rest of the way. He landed near Samantha, brushing his clothes free of hay after regaining his balance. He grinned at Samantha, his brown eyes dancing.

“All the pretty ones are from Minnesota,” he said.

Samantha smiled. “Nice try, Mister . . .”

“Brewster. Nick Brewster.” He stuck his hand out. “You must be Samantha Bailey.”

Samantha looked quizzically at Nick. “How did you know -”

“Word travels fast around here. Heard about what you did with Skippy. You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt.”

“I’ve had my shares of horse-related injuries. You get used to them after a while, and you learn from them.” Samantha headed off to the tack room, which was nearby. Nick joined her. “So, what do you do around her, Mister Brewster, besides sit in the hayloft?”

“Nick, please. I’m a farmhand, Miss Bailey.”

“Call me Sam.” Samantha removed her gloves and walked into the tack room. She put them on the shelf where she had gotten them earlier while Nick waited outside.

“So, your family doesn’t mind you doing this?” Nick asked.

“I don’t have much of a family right now,” Samantha replied. “I was separated from my parents when I was a baby. I’m trying to find them right now. What about yours?”

“I’m on pretty good terms with my parents. They live in Texas, and they’re both farmhands also, so they don’t mind me doing this kind of work.”

Samantha smiled, and the two walked back to the hayloft area. “So, what do you know about the trainer who was killed?” Samantha asked suddenly. Nick stopped and looked at her. “What?”

“It’s something we’re not supposed to talk about,” Nick replied. “Mr. Talbert gets a little upset.”

“Why?”

“Because Mike was a good friend, and he’s having a hard time coming to grips with what happened.”

“What exactly did happen?”

Nick leaned against some hay bales nearby and sighed as he crossed his arms. “Well,” he started, “all we know for sure is that the night he was killed he and Bobby were talking.”

“Bobby?”

“Mackenzie. According to him, he and Mike were just talking in the stable area, drinking coffee. Mike wanted to stay with the horses, so Bobby left him and went to bed. That was around eleven.”

“Were you awake at the time?”

“Sound asleep. Everyone was except those two. Anyway, Bobby went straight to bed. Around one in the morning, we all woke up to the sound of the horses neighing, like they were being skinned alive. We hurried out and saw part of the stable engulfed in flames. We managed to get the horses out by the time the fire department arrived. They put the fire out quickly, which prevented a lot of damage to the stable.”

“What about Mike?”

Nick sighed. “Well, after the fire was put out, the firefighters found his body. He had been badly burned.”

“And they automatically ruled it as an accident?”

“Well, they found some cigarette butts near his body. They were his brand, so the authorities assumed he had been smoking at the time. Talbert argued Mike never smoked in the stables because of all the hay around, but Bobby said he had been smoking the last time he saw Mike alive. Said Mike was jittery about something, but he said Mike wouldn’t say what.”

“And the authorities conducted an investigation?”

“Yeah. Everything pointed to Mike falling asleep with a lit cigarette, and it caught fire to the hay. Mike just didn’t wake up in time.”

“And everyone accepted it?”

“Well, Mike did sleep in the barn at times,” Nick replied, “but it’s hard to believe Mike would do something like that. Of course, there’s nothing to indicate otherwise. Nothing in the autopsy, at the scene, nothing.”

“You don’t seem to accept it, also.”

Nick eyed her wryly. “Am I that obvious?”

“I just read people with amazing accuracy. It’s a gift.”

Nick smiled and shrugged. “Well, I mean, even when I saw Mike under stress, he always knew better than to smoke inside the stable. I mean, it’s as though something just doesn’t add up.”

“Nick!” Talbert shouted from somewhere in the stable.

“Look, I’ll catch you later, Sam,” Nick said. He hurried off to find Talbert. Samantha watched him run off, then walked to the stable where the fire had occurred. There was still some fire damage along the walls of the stall. Samantha noticed it earlier when she was helping to calm Skippy down, but she didn’t say anything at the moment. Grateful that no one else was there, Samantha stepped into the stall and lay on the floor.

Almost immediately, her mind began recreating the fire. She could see flames rising up along the walls, feel the intense heat, smell the smoke, and could even hear the horses neighing loudly. She just stared up as the flames engulfed her, not making one sound.

Samantha shook herself from the trance then slowly got to her feet. Pretending to be a victim was a new experience for her, and what she had just felt and thought confused her. While Pretending to be surrounded by flames, even though she didn’t move, she also felt as if she was trapped. Like Mike wanted to move or shout, but something was stopping him.

“But if you fell asleep, then why would you have those emotions?” she asked softly. “Unless something else was going on at the same time.” Samantha quickly left the stall and made her way back to the farmhands’ quarters. She had to hand it to Nick. Even though he had no idea why, he was right on the money about something not adding up. She just had to figure out what.

- - - -

Jarod was working at his desk, filling out some paperwork, when Tammy came inside. “Jarod.” Jarod looked up. “A Sandy Li is up front asking about you. Says you picked up her dog.”

“Thanks, Tammy,” Jarod smiled. He got up from his desk and walked to the front of the building, which looked like the waiting room of a doctor’s office, with chairs and a front desk. The walls were covered in animal posters, and a pegboard had lost and found posters on it. Jarod saw a young woman sitting in one of the chairs, and assumed it was Sandy Li.

She was short in height, about five-foot two, with black hair pulled up, and almond-shaped eyes framed by glasses. She wasn’t skinny, but she wasn’t fat either. Her attire consisted of a red tank top with a gray cardigan over it, jeans, and tennis shoes.

“Miss Li?” Jarod asked. Sandy looked up, saw Jarod, then got to her feet.

“Where’s Charlie?” she asked. “Is he okay?”

“He’s just fine, Miss Li. He’s in the back. I just need to see some identification first.” Sandy nodded then reached inside her purse, pulled out her driver’s license, and handed it to Jarod. Jarod looked it over then handed it back to Sandy. “I’ll be right back.”

Jarod left and walked to the back kennels. He retrieved Charlie from his kennel and walked to the front. Sandy was ecstatic to see him as Jarod handed him to her. Sandy covered him with kisses and held him tightly.

“Oh, thank you so much, Mister Sharpe.”

“Call me Jarod, Miss Li. How did Charlie get lost?”

“I was taking him for a walk, and his leash clip broke off. I tried to catch him, but he’s pretty fast for a little guy. How much is the fee?”

Jarod smiled. “I’ll take care of it, Miss Li.”

Sandy smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” With Charlie in her arms, Sandy left the building. Jarod sighed then walked back to the office. Since no one was there, he went over to Brad’s desk and grabbed the picture of him and Jason. He stared at it seriously, thinking.
There wasn’t much he had to go on, but he knew of one place that might have the answers he was looking for. Of course, he’d have to wait for nightfall. That being said, Jarod returned the picture to its proper place, and went back to his desk to finish his paperwork.

- - - -

DEKALB COUNTY CORONER OFFICE
ATLANTA
12:13 AM

Samantha quickly jimmied the side door lock of the Coroner’s office and slipped inside. Dressed in black, her hair tucked under a black watch cap, she had reservations about breaking into the place. Then again, after talking with Nick earlier - and then what she experienced in the stall where Mike had been found - Samantha was at a dead end in her investigation, until she decided to check out Mike’s autopsy report.

So, after accessing the coroner records and finding out where the body had been taken, she grabbed some clothes and her jacket, ‘borrowed’ Nick’s truck, and headed into town. Not wanting to be seen, she parked the truck a few blocks away from the building. Now, armed with only a flashlight, a lock picking set, and her gun, Samantha was walking quietly down the halls of the Dekalb County Coroner’s office.

It didn’t take her long to find the filing room, where all the records were stored. Samantha carefully tried the door, but it was locked. Not a problem, she thought as she went to work with it. In less than thirty seconds, Samantha was inside. She made her way over to the filing cabinets, and began searching for Mike’s file, finding it in no time flat.

Take the file out, she went over to a table and flipped through the report. She stopped when she flipped from page ten to page eleven. She went back to page ten, reread it, then flipped to page eleven. It was then she noticed that the sentence from page ten didn’t match with the sentence on page eleven. Samantha looked down at the page number, and saw that page eleven was actually page twelve.

“Where the hell is page eleven?” she whispered. She looked through the rest of the file, but there was no page eleven anywhere. Why would it be missing? Samantha flipped back to the beginning and noted the Coroner’s name, Kevin Marakan. “Well, it’s not much, but it’s a start.” She went over to a copy machine that was nearby and made a copy of the entire report for herself. After returning to the file to its proper place, Samantha made her way out of the room, making sure to lock the door behind her.

As she was hurrying down the hall, she heard footsteps coming toward her. Looking around, she spotted another, darkened hallway nearby and quietly ducked into it. She pressed herself against the wall as a tall man dressed in black turned the corner and walked down the hall. Since his face was turned away, Samantha couldn’t see it as she held her breath. The man passed her and continued walking on. When he had disappeared around a corner, Samantha quietly left her hiding spot and made her way out of the building. She hurried down the street and turned a corner, heading back toward the truck.

Jarod looked around, feeling slightly uneasy as he made his way to the filing room of the Dekalb County Coroner’s facility. He could have sworn he had heard a set of footsteps in the hall, but he shook his head and focused on his task. He stopped at the door to the filing room and tried it, but it was locked. Jarod pulled out a small lock pick and unlocked the door in no time.

Inside the room, he went to the filing cabinets and found Jason Reed’s file in no time. He pulled out the report and read it. The coroner who performed the autopsy was Kevin Marakan. As Jarod read the report to himself, he noticed that something appeared out of place on the report. That’s when he noticed there was a page missing from the report; it jumped from page seven to page nine with no page eight.

“What are you hiding, Dr. Marakan?” he asked to himself. Jarod quickly made a copy of the entire report, put the file back in its place, and headed out of the filing room.

- - - -

THE CENTRE

The next morning, Parker walked into the Sim Lab and saw Broots and Sydney standing near a table. On the table was a tranquilizer gun.

“From Jarod, I assume” she said as she walked over.

“Who else?” Broots asked.

“It came this morning,” Sydney added. “Nothing else was with it.”

Parker picked up the gun and examined it. “Find out what was so special about it?”

“It’s just a regular tranquilizer gun,” Broots replied. “Nothing special.”

Parker turned the gun around and saw the handle had some letters engraved on it: DCAC. She held it up for Broots and Sydney to see. “DCAC.” She set the gun down. “Wonder what it means.”

“Could be someone’s initials,” Broots replied. “I could run it through the Centre archives.”

“Do that.” Broots nodded and left the Simulation Lab. “Wonder what he’s up to now?”

“With Jarod, anything is possible,” Sydney replied.

- - - -

Jarod was in his office, looking at a computer record of Dr. Kevin Marakan, munching on a Pez from his clown dispenser. He just finished searching the police records on Jason’s accident, and Jarod had come up empty handed. As he scrolled down, looking for anything out of the ordinary, Brad came walking in, carrying a bunch of papers. Jarod discretely turned the computer screen off, but Brad wasn’t even paying attention as he simply put the papers down on his desk.

“Brad,” Jarod said suddenly. Brad looked up.

“Yes, Jarod?”

“You feeling better?”

“I guess,” Brad replied slowly. “I mean, all things considered, sure.” He paused. “But I can’t help it. Something else was bothering Jason, had been for almost a week.”

“What was bothering him?”

“He wouldn’t say. He seemed troubled, that’s all. Look, I gotta get started on my run. See you later.” Brad left the office, just as Tammy came in. She walked over to her desk, sat down, and began working on some papers.

“Tammy, can I talk to you for a moment?” Jarod asked.

“Sure, Jarod. What’s on your mind?”

“What was Jason like?”

Tammy shot her head up. “Why do you want to know?”

“I just want to know about the guy I’m filling in for.”

Tammy looked hesitant at first, but then she leaned back in her chair, sighing. “Well, Jarod, he was really a nice man. He loved the animals.”

“Brad said he was acting different a few days before he died.”

“Yeah, he was, but when I -” Tammy stopped talking as a man in a white business shirt and black slacks came into the office. He was medium height and build, with dark hair and glasses. His name was Harry Edwards, and he was in charge of the Dekalb County Animal Control.

“Tammy, Jarod, I need your reports from yesterday,” he said. Jarod and Tammy both handed Harry their reports. “Thanks. Jarod, you enjoying it here so far?”

“Can’t complain, sir,” Jarod smiled. Harry returned the smile then left the office. After he was gone, Tammy got up and closed the door.

“Jarod, if I tell you something, you have to promise not to tell anyone, okay?”

Jarod looked concerned. “What is it?” he asked.

Tammy went over to her desk and pulled open one of the drawers. She removed a scrap of paper, then handed it to Jarod. “Jason called me a few nights ago,” she explained. “He seemed nervous about something, but he wouldn’t tell me what. He just kept going on and on about stolen animals.”

“What stolen animals?”

“I don’t know. But I remembered him mentioning two names, so I wrote them down.” Jarod looked at the piece of paper. There were two names written on it: Billy and Mike.

“To be quite honest,” Tammy continued, “after his accident, I had doubts about it really being an accident.”

“Did you ever tell anyone?” Jarod asked.

“No. I didn’t have any proof. There was no mention of a Mike or a Billy in any of our records, and I couldn’t find any evidence of stolen animals.” She sighed. “Maybe I’m just reading too much into it.” Tammy went back to her desk and began working on her paperwork again.

Jarod leaned back in his chair as he watched Tammy, then slipped the paper into his pocket. Feeling thirsty all of a sudden, he got up and left the office, making his way down the hall to the lunchroom. As he past a closed door, he glanced at the nameplate on it: Dr. William Packard, D.M.V. He continued on for about a second, then stopped and went back to the door. After rereading it, he pulled out the piece of paper and skimmed it again.

“Billy Packard?” he whispered. It was a long shot, but Jarod had no other leads at the moment. He smiled slightly as he made his way to the lunchroom to get a drink, stuffing the paper back in his pocket.

- - - -

Samantha was thankful there were no clients for her to work with as she sat up in her room, working at her laptop. After having looked at the autopsy report, Samantha hadn’t been able to find anything suspicious. She could think of a single reason why a coroner would purposefully misplace a page, but nothing that seemed logical at the time. With that in minds, she decided another venture was in order, so she was now looking up the police reports about the accident. Unfortunately, there was nothing out of the ordinary with that either. The police found no evidence to indicate that Mike Madison’s death was anything but a tragic accident.

Samantha was beginning to doubt herself about this Pretend and whether or not Mike’s death wasn’t accidental. She sighed and leaned back, just as there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” she asked, sitting up straighter.

“It’s me,” Nick said.

Samantha quickly turned off her computer and started putting her papers into her backpack. “Just a second,” she said, just as a few papers floated down under the bed. Samantha sighed frustrated, then quickly bent down to pick them up. She peeked under the bed to grab the papers and pulled them out. She skimmed through them, then stopped at one she didn’t recognize.

It was a simple piece of plain paper with the names Billy and Jason written on it in a handwriting she didn’t recognize. She furrowed her eyebrows, just as Nick knocked again.

“Sam, you okay in there?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Samantha replied as she quickly shoved the papers into her backpack. “Come in.” The door opened and Nick walked in, looking a little puzzled. “Can I help you, Nick?”

“Uh, the vet’s here to check on the horses,” Nick replied. “Talbert wants you to come and meet him.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.” Nick gave her an odd look, but he left, closing the door behind him. Samantha quickly rifled through her bag until she found that piece of paper. She read it silently again. Billy and Jason?

Samantha knew they weren’t part of the stables, but other than that she had no clue as to who they were. She stuffed the paper into her jeans pocket, then hurried out to go catch up with Nick. She walked out of the house and saw Nick standing with Talbert and another man. The three of them were talking as Samantha came up.

“Sam,” Talbert said, “I’d like you to meet Dr. William Packard. He takes care of all the horses.”

Samantha quickly sized the man up as she shook his hand. He was a little taller than her, medium build, brown hair, brown eyes, and he was dressed in jeans and a brown polo shirt. He was also carrying a medical bag, and he smiled warmly at Samantha.

“Hi, Miss Bailey,” Packard replied.

“Hello,” Samantha nodded. “And, please, call me Sam.”

“Well, in that case,” Packard said. “Call me Billy. Everyone else does.” He turned to Talbert. “I’m going to start my rounds now.” He nodded to Sam. “Nice to meet you, Sam.” He nodded to Nick then left with Talbert toward the stables. Samantha eyed Packard suspiciously as he walked.

“Hey, Sam, I gotta run down to the store to get some feed,” Nick spoke up. “You want to join me?”

“No thanks,” Sam replied. “I . . . got some stuff that I need to look up.” She walked quickly back to her room and closed the door, making sure it was locked. She pulled out the piece of paper, and read it again. Could Packard be the same Billy that was written on the paper?

“Only one way to find out,” Sam answered as she walked over to her computer.

- - - -

While Tammy went to go take care of some of the dogs in the back, Jarod had quickly hopped on his computer, searching and checking anything that was related to Packard. His resume was pretty impressive, especially for someone who worked at Animal Control. Jarod continued searching.

- - - -

At the same time, Samantha also pulled up Packard’s records and began sifting through them. Nothing so far, but she kept digging. She had a hunch she was on to something.

- - - -

As Jarod searched through Packard’s personal records, he stopped when his banking information appeared. Jarod scrolled through everything, becoming more confident with every second. According to his bank records, Packard has made quite a few deposits over the past few months, and all of them pretty large amounts, even for a veterinarian. Jarod began back tracing the deposits’ origin.

- - - -

Samantha almost started jumping around when she found Packard’s bank records. Large sums of money deposited into his account over the past few months, and she knew that there was no way he was making those deposits himself. Samantha quickly started a back trace on the deposits.

- - - -

Jarod smiled smugly when the trace revealed who made the deposits: one Louis Gooding. He began searching databases for him.

- - - -

“Louis Gooding,” Samantha said as the name of the person who made the deposits into Packard’s account popped up on her screen. “Now, the question is, who are you, Mr. Gooding?” A quick database search revealed that he was an employee in the Research and Development Division of a company by the name of Avalon Pharmaceuticals, and it was located just outside of Atlanta. Samantha smiled smugly.

- - - -

“Avalon Pharmaceuticals,” Jarod read the screen that popped up, showing a picture of Gooding as well as an employee record. “Research and Development Division.” Jarod gave a sly smile as he munched on a Pez.

- - - -

AVALON PHARMACEUTICALS
11:21 PM

After disabling the security system on the first floor, Jarod quietly snuck inside the building, quickly making his way down the hallway that led to Gooding’s office. He carried a small flashlight in one hand and his lock picking set in the other. Even though the security had been disabled and he was pretty sure the building was empty, he felt slightly uneasy. He had ever since the previous night when he was at the coroner’s office, when he thought he heard those footsteps. He found Gooding’s office in no time, unlocked the door, and went inside. He closed the door and shined his flashlight around the room.

The room was fairly large for an office, with a large desk in front of some windows, which were curtained and covered with blinds. On the desk was a computer. Off to one side was a set of filing cabinets. A couch was opposite the cabinets. Jarod went over to the filing cabinets and began searching through them.

- - - -

Samantha quietly crawled through the ventilation tunnel until she came to the security room of Avalon Pharmaceuticals.

Seeing no one in the room, she opened the grate and carefully climbed out. Her foot bumped something, and she looked down. Her eyes, having long ago becoming accustomed to the dark, focused on a foot. The foot belonged to a uniformed security guard, sprawled face down on the floor near a circuit board with many television screens above it. He looked dead.

Samantha felt a shiver run down her back as she carefully knelt beside him and felt for a pulse. She sighed with relief when she found one. Must have been knocked out, she thought. But by whom? Samantha got to her feet and looked at the circuit board and television screens. All the screens were dark, everything had been disabled.

Having been on guard ever since she saw that man she saw at the coroner’s office, she pulled out her gun as she walked over to the door leading out of the room. She slowly opened it, then glanced carefully out. Nothing. She crept out into the hallway and made her way to the stairs. After checking to make sure it was empty, Samantha quietly climbed the stairs to the second floor, glancing repeatedly down and up. When she reached the second floor, she carefully checked the hallways once again. Finding no one there, she quietly made her way down the hall to Gooding’s office.

When she reached his office, she grabbed the handle and stopped. Shuffling sounds were coming from inside the office. She glanced down, looking for light coming from under the door. Finding none, Samantha gripped her gun tightly in one hand as she quietly turned the knob and opened the door.

Inside, she saw a man with his back towards her, hunched over the desk, reading some papers. She could tell it was the same man that she had seen at the coroner’s office. She opened the door wider, then gripped her gun tightly with both hands as she aimed it at him.

“Hold it right there,” she said calmly, even though her stomach was in knots. The man immediately stood up straighter. “Hands where I can see them. And don’t make any moves, or I will shoot.” The man slowly put his hands in the air. “Good. Now turn around. Slowly.”

- - - -

Jarod couldn’t believe this was happening as he turned around, his hands still in the air. He saw the source of the voice standing in the doorframe, pointing a gun right at him. She had medium height and build, dressed in a dark outfit. He could see her hair was light in color, but that was it. The dim light from the hallway silhouetted her face, so he wasn’t able to get a good look at her.

“Jarod?” she asked suddenly.

Jarod looked confused. How did she know his name? “Who are you?” he asked.

The woman reached for a light switch near the door and flipped it on. The room was flooded with light, causing Jarod to reflexively blink. When his eyes adjusted he glanced at the woman, and his heart nearly stopped beating when he saw who it was.

“Sam?” he asked.

Samantha looked at Jarod in awe, still pointing her gun at him. Then she suddenly smiled as she lowered her gun and put it away. “Is it really you?” she asked. Jarod could only nod as he returned the smiled. Samantha walked slowly over to Jarod, then all but flung herself at him, hugging him tightly. Jarod returned the hug just as tightly.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked, still trying to catch his breath. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

“Me too,” Samantha replied. She pulled away, smiling.

“Are you okay?” Jarod asked.

“I’m fine,” Samantha replied. “Just been looking for you.”

"How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't. I was here, because . . . well, I'm in the middle of a Pretend, believe it or not. What are you doing here?"

Jarod chuckled. "I'm also in the middle of a Pretend. I'm an Animal Control Officer in town. You?"

“I’m a horse trainer at Talbert’s Quarter Horses in Carrolton.”

"So, why are you here?"

“I didn’t, Jarod. I came here to find information on Gooding for the Pretend I’m working on. I think he might be involved.” She nodded at the papers he had been looking at. "And I'm guess you're doing the same thing for yours?"

“Yep.”

“Well, you mind if I join you?” Samantha asked, smiling.

Jarod smiled back. “Not at all.”

Samantha walked over to the desk and began leafing through the papers. Jarod went over and switched the light off, then closed the door and came back over to her. He picked up his flashlight, which was laying on the desk and shone it on the papers so he and Samantha could read.

“So, what are you working on?” Jarod asked.

“I’m investigating the death of a horse trainer that used to work at the ranch. Last night, I discovered that his autopsy report was missing a page, which didn’t seem like a lot at first, but then the other pieces started falling into place. I found a piece of paper in my bedroom - which happened to be the same room that belonged to the trainer. There were names on that paper. Shortly after that, I met a veterinarian whose name matched one of the names on the paper. I did a little digging, discovered his bank records contained questionable deposits, back traced them, and found Gooding as the person who deposited the money into the account.” She noticed Jarod looking distant. “What is it?”

“What was the name of the veterinarian?” Jarod asked.

“William Packard, but he said to call him Billy. That’s how I was able to match his name. I just haven’t been able to figure out who the other name belongs to.”

“What is it?”

“Jason.”

Jarod looked at her. “What was the name of trainer who died?”

“Michael Madison.”

“Mike,“ Jarod whispered. He chuckled slightly.

“What’s so funny?” Samantha asked.

“I have a gut feeling we’re working on the same case, Sam. Jason Reed is an Animal Control officer who died a couple of weeks ago in a car accident. Not only that, but a co-worker gave me a piece of paper with two names on it as well: Billy and Mike.”

“They knew each other?”

“Possibly.”

Samantha smiled wryly at Jarod. “You weren’t, by any chance, at the Dekalb Coroner’s Office last night, were you?”

“I thought I heard someone else’s footsteps,” Jarod smiled. “Yes, I was. I was looking into Jason Reed’s autopsy as well, and found one page missing.”

“You think the coroner’s in on whatever’s going on?”

“I think that’s a fair assumption, Sam.”

Samantha looked contemplative. “So, if both dead guys knew each other, then they must have been doing something together. But what would a horse trainer and an Animal Control officer have in common?”

“How about stolen animals?” Jarod asked.

“Stolen?”

“My co-worker told me that Jason was nervous a few days before he died, and he kept mentioning stolen animals. Now, since we can assume that they did know each other, then we -”

“Can assume they were working together on stolen animals,” Samantha finished. She put the papers down, then went over to the computer that was on one side of the desk and turned it on. Jarod came over and stood behind her as she started typing. Within a few moments, she brought up a database list. There were three main columns with the headings SUBJECT ID NUMBER, EXPERIMENT NUMBER, and DATE. Below the columns were many numbers. The two Pretenders could see that a lot of the dates listed were as recent as last week.

Jarod reached into his jacket and pulled out a disk. “Can you copy that onto this?” he asked.

Samantha took the disk, put it into the computer, and quickly downloaded the information. She took the disk out, handed it to Jarod, then pulled her own disk out, and did the same with it. When she was done, she switched off the computer as Jarod started putting the papers away.

“Now what?” Samantha asked.

“Let’s figure out what this list is,” Jarod replied. The two left the office, making sure to lock the door.

“What about the security guard?” Samantha asked as they walked down the hall. “What did you do to him?”

“I just gave him a natural sedative derived from dust and mold,” Jarod replied with a smirk on his face. He noticed Samantha looking at him oddly. “Don’t worry, Sam, I’ve used it before. He’ll be fine.”

“Where else did you use it?”

“It was instrumental in helping me escape from the Centre in ‘96.”

They came to the door leading to the staircase. Samantha stopped. “Speaking of the Centre, what happened on Carthis? Did you see your mother?”

Jarod sighed. “Do you have to be back to the stables soon?”

“I can spare a few hours,” Samantha replied.

Jarod nodded. “We’ll go to my place. It’ll be safer to talk there. And believe me, there’s a lot to talk about.” Samantha couldn’t disagree with him as they walked down the stairs.

- - - -

THE CENTRE
THE NEXT MORNING . . .

Lyle and Cox walked into the Sim Lab and saw Broots, Sydney, and Miss Parker standing at a table with a large box on it. They had gotten word that a package arrived today, but nothing else was reported.

“Looks like you were wrong about your little Pretender being scared,” Parker said.

“What are you talking about?” Lyle asked.

Sydney pointed to the mailing address. “It’s not Jarod’s handwriting. Has to be Samantha’s.”

“Open it,” Cox said.

Broots opened the side of the box and pulled out scale model of the Centre. It was about two feet in height, three feet in length, and actually surrounded by real grass. “Well, you have to admit, she’s good,” he said.

“She’s a real Picasso,” Lyle mumbled. He noticed a hinge near the top of the Tower. “What’s that?”

Broots gently grabbed the top of the Tower and pulled. The top swung open like a door, and a strong odor emanated from the Centre. Everyone instinctively grabbed their noses.

“Jeeze, what the hell is that smell?” Parker asked. “Broots, check it out.”

“Me?” Broots asked.

“Go,” Lyle and Parker said forcefully. Broots sighed as he edged over to the building and looked inside the tower. Nestled inside was a plain white piece of paper. He pulled it out and read it. Parker grabbed it from his hand and read it.

“‘The Centre has been full of this for years,’” she said. “‘J and S.’” Despite the fact that the entire Simulation Lab smelled Parker smirked at Lyle and Cox. “Well, isn’t that just wonderful? They’ve managed to find each other. I’m sure Raines will be happy to hear that.” Lyle shot Parker an evil glare.

“What else is in the box?” Cox asked.

Broots leaned over and looked inside the Tower. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Horse manure,” he replied slowly. “And lots of it.” Everyone looked and saw that Broots was indeed correct. There was horse manure inside, and everyone could see it was very fresh.

“They are really starting to annoy me,” Lyle said.

“They weren’t before?” Parker asked snidely.

“Watch it,” Lyle replied.

“You know, perhaps I could get some of this analyzed,” Broots said slowly. “Find out where it came from.”

“Broots, it came from a horse,” Parker snapped.

“I’m talking about the grass,” Broots replied. He pulled off a small section of the grass. “It’s sod, which means it had to have come from a gardening place.”

“Your point?” Cox asked.

“Well, gardening places only sell live plants that are designed for a specific climate. If I can analyze it, I can find out what specific climate it comes from, thereby narrowing our search area.”

“Get on it,” Parker said. Broots took some of the sod and hurried out of the Sim Lab. Just then, Sydney’s phone rang. He went to answer it, leaving everyone outside talking.

“This is Sydney,” he said.

“Hello, Sydney,” Samantha replied sounding perky.

“Samantha,” Sydney said, sounding slightly surprised. Everyone outside instantly stopped talking. The three headed into the office, Lyle motioning for Sydney to change to the speaker. Sydney obeyed.

“Can’t stay on the phone too long,” Samantha said, “but I wanted to see if the package arrived.”

“Besides stinking up the Sim Lab,” Parker replied, “was there any specific reason for sending that?”

“You should be able to figure it out, Miss Parker,” Samantha answered. “And speaking of crap, how’s Lyle doing?”

“Becoming more and more determined to catch you and Jarod,” Lyle replied.

“I seriously doubt that’s going to happen,” Samantha said.

“You shouldn’t be so cocky, my dear,” Cox spoke up. “It can be your downfall.”

“Who are you?” Samantha asked.

“My name is Mr. Cox. I look forward to meeting you.”

“Hope you won’t consider me rude by not returning the gesture. Well, gotta run. So much to do, and so little time.” There was a click as Samantha hung up.

“When Broots gets that grass analyzed,” Lyle said. “Let me know.” He and Cox left Sydney’s office and the Sim Lab.

“So, what are you going to do?” Sydney asked.

“I’m going to go back to my office,” Parker replied. “You and Broots go back and look at that model Samantha and Jarod sent us. See if there’s anything out of the ordinary about it. Anything.” Parker left Sydney’s office. As she passed one of the ventilation grates on her way out, she didn’t see Angelo sitting in the tunnel, grinning as he munched quietly on some Cracker Jacks.

- - - -

“So, how did it go?” Jarod asked from his desk. He was looking at his computer, the data that Samantha had downloaded to the disk visible on the screen. He was glad that everyone was out to lunch. It gave him some privacy to do some more digging.

“Great,” Samantha replied, from her room. She was sitting at her desk, looking at her computer at the same information. On her desk were a lot of papers from an early morning investigative endeavor into the records of the stable. “Lyle seemed agitated, probably from the fact that we’ve found each other.”

Jarod chuckled. “He’s probably still mad about the thumb incident.”

“That was fun,” Samantha grinned. “By the way, Jarod, who’s Mr. Cox?”

“Another Centre person,” Jarod replied seriously. “You don’t want to cross his path, Sam. He’s just as bad as Lyle, if not worse.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. So, did you find anything on the database?”

“Quite a bit, actually,” Jarod said. “I brought up some of those Subject ID numbers, and guess what they were?”

“Stolen animals,” Samantha replied.

“Cats and dogs, mainly. Some of them I recognized from Lost and Found posters at the Animal Control, plus some of the Lost and Found reports that were filled out weeks ago. Besides cats and dogs, there were ten horses also listed.”

“Which ones?” Samantha asked. Jarod rattled off ten ID numbers, and Samantha wrote them down. She quickly accessed the information, then checked the records she had ‘borrowed’ from the stable archives after returning earlier in the morning. Every single horse from the database at Avalon matched with the records from the stable archives. She sighed.

“All ten of them were from Talbert’s Quarter Horses, Jarod,” she replied. “All of them were, supposedly, euthanized by, surprise, surprise, Dr. William Packard.”

“And all of them were test subjects for different pharmaceutical drugs,” Jarod added. “That would explain the connection between Mike and Jason.”

“Where are they now?”

“Some of them have died. The rest are still being used.”

“Okay, so we know why Mike and Jason were killed. They somehow found out about these animals being stolen.” She leaned back in her chair. “But we still don’t know who killed them and why.”

“Well, we can’t rule out Packard, Sam.”

“I know, but we don’t have the proof, Jarod.” She glanced over at her desk, and her eyes fell on Mike’s autopsy report. She sat up and grabbed the report. “Jarod, what about the coroner?”

“What about him?”

“You said a page was missing from Jason’s autopsy report as well as Mike’s. And since they were both done by the same doctor, doesn’t that mean the coroner is probably involved in this somehow?”

Jarod smiled. “How about we pay him a visit tonight?”

“I think I can manage that.” There was a knock on her door. “Uh, gotta go. Bye.” She hung up. “Just a second.” She quickly put all the papers away, stuffing them into her desk. She shut her computer off. “Come in.”

The door opened and Brandon Donovan poked his head in. He was one of the other farmhands, and Samantha found him amusing. He was tall, burly, had dark hair and a mustache, and the personality of a man who enjoyed smiling a lot.

“What can I do for you, Brandon?” Samantha asked, smiling.

“Nick wants to talk to you,” Brandon replied. “He’s over by his truck.”

“Thanks.” After making sure everything was hidden, and slipping the disk from the computer into her back pocket, Samantha left her bedroom and the house. She saw Nick leaning up against his truck, sunglasses on. As she approached him, she could see he wasn’t smiling. “What’s up?”

“Just who are you?” Nick asked.

Samantha looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“One thing you should know about me is that I’m an early riser. Five o’clock, every morning, ever since I graduated high school. So, this morning, I come out, ready to begin my day, when I see my truck missing. I start looking around for it, then I hear a truck driving up. Sure enough, it’s mine. The driver gets out, and it’s you, all dressed in black. Not only that, but I see you break into the front office and come out a few minutes later with some files.” Nick looked right at her, taking off his sunglasses. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

Samantha made no effort to look like she had been caught. “If what you’re saying is true, then why didn’t you report me to Talbert?”

“I want to know who you are and why you’re really here,” Nick replied. “And if you don’t tell me, I think Talbert would be very interested in knowing that you’re taking files.”

“Look, I’m sorry that I had to borrow your truck, but I had no other way of getting to where I needed to be.”

“And where did you need to be?”

“None of your business. You’re just going to have to trust me, okay?”

“Why should I?”

Samantha’s gut was telling her to trust Nick, despite the fact he was mad at her, and her gut hadn’t steered her wrong yet. Besides, she could definitely take him out if she needed to. She sighed. “Let’s go to my room.” Nick hesitated. “Trust me.”

Samantha walked to her bedroom with Nick close behind. After they were both inside and the door was locked she walked over to the desk and pulled out the records from the stable archives. She handed them to Nick.

“What do you know about these horses?” she asked.

Nick took the records and looked at them. “They’re all dead,” he replied.

“They’re not dead,” Samantha replied. “At least, they weren’t dead when you thought they were dead.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Those horses were stolen and taken to Avalon Pharmaceuticals for drug research testing. Some of them are still alive, but others are dead.”

“What?” Nick asked in disbelief. Samantha pulled the disk from her pocket and put it in the computer. She showed Nick the database list and the numbers matching the stolen horses. Nick sat down on the edge of her bed in utter disbelief. "This has something to do with Mike, doesn’t it? That’s why you were asking all those questions.”

Samantha nodded. “Like you, I have strong reasons to believe that his death was not accidental. Also, I believe that the death of an Animal Control officer by the name of Jason Reed is connected to this. A friend of mine is looking into that right now.”

“Are you really a horse trainer?”

“Not professionally,” Samantha replied.

“So, what are you? FBI? ASPCA?”

“I’m someone who’s trying to find the truth.”

“I want to help.”

Samantha sighed. “Fine. However, I’m going to have to borrow your truck again tonight. I need to make a visit to see someone.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Out of the question.”

“Sam, Mike was my friend.”

“I understand that, Nick, but if you want to help me out, I’m going to need you to stay here.”

“And do what?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about who might be responsible for Mike’s death, and there’s a few things that are not adding up.”

“Like?”

“Well, you told me that Bobby said that he and Mike were drinking coffee the night he died, and that he had been acting jittery, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if he was so nervous and he had been drinking coffee, I don’t think he would have been able to be in a deep enough sleep to miss a fire. All that stress and caffeine.”

“What are you saying?”

“I think Bobby wasn’t telling the whole truth.”

Nick looked slightly upset. “You think Bobby killed Mike?”

“I don’t know, but there are holes in his story. I was planning to talk with him again today, but I need to look up some other stuff. You want you to talk to him for me?” Nick looked a little hesitant, but he nodded. “Thanks.”

Nick got up to leave, leaving Samantha alone. After the door was closed, Samantha reached into one of the desk drawers and pulled out a large mailing envelope. It is stuffed with something. Grabbing a pin, she writes the Centre’s address on it. Afterwards, she puts the package aside, grinning.

- - - -

Jarod walked into the back room where the kennels were, carrying a medium-sized box, and saw Brad filling up water bowls. He was smoking again. Jarod walked over to him.

“Brad, can I talk to you for a moment about Jason?” he asked.

“Jarod, what is with you?” Brad asked angrily. “Can’t you just leave it alone?”

“Psychologists say talking about things helps.”

Brad sighed angrily. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“You said Jason was tired the night he was killed. Why?”

“We’d both been working a lot of overtime that week,” Brad said. “Usually, we got through it okay. That night, Jason just seemed really tired after his shift, even though he’d been drinking a lot of coffee. I told him I’d give him a lift home, but he shrugged me off and left.” Brad paused. “I should have gone after him. Then he wouldn’t have gotten killed.” He finished filling the bowls. “You were wrong, Jarod. Talking about it didn’t help at all.” Brad left the back room.

“Oh, but it did,” Jarod replied. He looked at the box, which had the Centre’s address on it. He looked in the direction Brad left and smirked.

- - - -

Samantha was at her computer, looking up some information when there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” she asked.

“It’s me,” Nick replied.

“It’s open.” Nick came in and shut the door behind him. He walked over and sat on the edge of Samantha’s bed. “How’d it go?”

“Enlightening,” Nick said. “He seemed very nervous when I began talking about Mike. I even started nonchalantly talking about some of the horses that were stolen. He was sweating buckets.”

“Not surprising,” Samantha replied. She tapped her computer screen. “Look what I found.” Nick looked at the screen and saw it was a police record with Bobby’s picture. “Meet Robert Mackenzie, otherwise know as Greg Sanford to the State of California.” Nick looked flabbergasted as he started at the screen. Samantha’s cell phone rang and she quickly answered it.

“I think I know who else might be involved,” Jarod replied.

“Who?” Samantha asked.

“Brad Fischer. I just did a little digging on him and found out his bank account is quite high for an Animal Control officer. Back traced the deposits to Dr. Packard.”

“Well, I also did a little digging into one of the farmhands over here. Couldn’t find anything suspicious about his bank deposits or anything like that, but I came across a police record. He’s wanted by the State of California for a parole violation.”

“What was the violation?”

“Robbery.”

“That just leaves the coroner to check out.”

“Midnight good for you?”

“Perfect.” Jarod hung up. Samantha hung up her phone, then looked at her watch. It was a little after noon. She smiled at Nick as she started gathering up the papers, then noticed he looked dejected.

“I’m sorry you had to find out about this,” she said. “I know it sucks.”

“Why would he do this?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know.” Samantha put the papers away and shut off her computer. “Hey, you want to get some lunch?”

“No thanks,” Nick said. Samantha watched as he calmly got up and headed for the door. “Where are you going?”

“To talk to Bobby,” he replied. He quickly left the room. Samantha ran after him, and was finally able to stop him right outside the house. She could see he was angry, but so was she.

“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.

“I’m going to make him pay,” Nick replied. “Now out of the way.”

“I can’t let you do that, Nick. I don’t have all the evidence I need. You go and do this now, and everything my friend and I have worked for will be for nothing.”

“What the hell do you and you friend care anyway?”

“We care. Just because they weren’t our friends, it doesn’t me we don’t care.”

“Out of my way, Sam.” Nick tried to brush past Samantha, but she wouldn’t let him. She stood her ground firmly.

“No way. You’re letting your anger control your emotions. I understand you’re angry and hurt, but I’m not going to let you ruin this.”

Nick folded his arms across his chest and stood tall, towering over Samantha by a good two inches. “And just how do you plan on stopping me?”

Samantha glanced behind her, making sure that she and Nick were alone. Keeping her hand close to her side, she balled up her fist. “Like this,” she replied. She turned and faced him, then swiftly punched him in the face. Nick fell back onto the ground, unconscious. She quickly dragged him back into the house and to her room, putting him on her bed and locking the door.

She paced the length of her bedroom thinking about what to do next. She knew she’d have to keep Nick out of the picture until this entire thing was over, but the was problem was how to do it without making anyone suspicious. After a few moments of pacing, she finally got an idea.

She opened her window, carefully climbed out, and made her way over to the tack room in the stable. Thankful that no one was there, she grabbed a lunge line, then headed back to her room, using the window to get in. She quickly tied Nick’s legs and arms with the lunge line. Taking the bandana he was wearing around his neck, Samantha used it as a gag around his mouth.

Nick started stirring. He opened his eyes, and, when he realized her was tied up and gagged, he started struggling, glaring at the young woman. Samantha grabbed his shoulders and held him down firmly.

“Knock it off,” she said. “You know, Nick you only have yourself to blame for being like this. I took you into my confidence, and then you nearly ruined what I came here to accomplish. Now, I understand you being upset and all. I mean, I would be too, but I can’t let you go until this is over. It’s nothing personal.” Nick mumbled something angrily, but Samantha ignored him as she went over to her desk and grabbed the packed addressed to the Centre.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go run an errand. I’ll be right back.” Samantha started to leave, but then stopped. “However, I just can’t leave you like this. Someone might hear you, and then I could get into trouble.” She walked over to her bag and produced a bottle of tablets. “Bought these a few days ago before I came here.” She unscrewed the top and dumped a couple of pills into her hand. She noticed Nick looked worried as she put the bottle back in her bag.

“Oh, don’t worry, Nick,” she said as she sat beside him. “They’re just Melatonin pills with B6 in them. Great for sleeping and building you immune system. You’ll sleep like a baby, have more energy, and improve your mood. Now, will you take these pills like a good boy?” Nick mumbled something. Samantha removed his gag.

“And if I don’t?” he asked.

“I’ll knock you out again and force them down your throat,” Samantha replied. Nick sighed, knowing she was serious. He opened his mouth and Samantha dropped the pills in. Nick swallowed them, then Samantha put the gag back in his mouth.

“Good choice,” she replied. She sat at her desk and waited until Nick fell asleep - an hour later. She searched his pockets, found his car keys, and then started to leave when there was a knock on her door. She went over and opened the door a crack. Talbert was standing on the other side. “Yes?”

“We’re all going to go for a trail ride, Sam. You want to join us?” he asked.

“No thanks,” Sam replied. “I have to run a few errands. Thanks anyway.”

“You wouldn’t by any chance know where Nick is, do you? He’s not in his room, and I can’t find him.”

“Nick said that he was going for a walk to clear his head,” Samantha replied. “He left about and hour ago.”

“Okay,” Talbert replied. He left. Samantha closed the door and sighed. Leaving Nick here was not going to work. Someone was bound to start looking for him sooner or later, and then she would get into a lot of trouble. She grabbed her cell phone.

- - - -

Jarod was just leaving the facility in a truck to make his rounds when his phone rang. “Yes,” he answered. He listened for a few moments, then sighed. “I’ll be right there, Sam.”

- - - -

“I appreciate this, Jarod,” Samantha replied as she and Jarod carefully lay Nick on the couch in Jarod’s apartment.

“You shouldn’t have told him in the first place, Sam,” Jarod said, slightly upset. “Then we wouldn’t have had to do this.”

“Hey, I had no choice, Jarod. He was going to turn me in. He isn’t part of this, so I didn’t think it would hurt. I did what I thought was best at the time. "Can I have a little support here, please?"

Jarod softened. “I’m sorry.” He eyed Nick, who was still sleeping soundly, then gave a wry smile to Samantha. “However, for the future, could you try something else before you decide to knock a person out?”

Samantha smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

“How are you going to explain to everyone that he’s missing?”

“I’ll think of something.”

“What should I tell him when he wakes up?”

“Tell him . . . I don’t know. Think of something cool, tell him I said it.”

Jarod smiled. “So, what are you going to do now?”

Samantha held up her package. “I need to send this off if it’s going to be delivered tomorrow.”

“Would you like a ride?”

“Of course.” Samantha and Jarod left the apartment.

- - - -

Miss Parker was in her office when Broots came in, carrying a sheet of paper. Sydney was behind him.

“I got the sample analyzed,” Broots said.

“And?” Parker asked as she stood up and took it, reading it silently.

“It’s Carpet grass,” Boots replied. “It’s grows mainly in the southeast states, from Texas to Florida and up to South Carolina. Other than that, there’s nothing.”

“Have you told Lyle and Cox?” Parker asked.

“Tell us what?” Cox asked as he and Lyle came into Parker’s office.

“What do you want?” Parker asked.

“We heard that the lab guys were done with analyzing the grass sample,” Lyle replied.
Cox took the paper from Parker and read it.

“Carry on,” he and Lyle left, taking the paper with him.

“Those two really get under my skin,” Parker replied. “Was there anything else in the model that gives us a clue as to where Samantha and Jarod might be?”

“Nothing. I even looked back at the first package Jarod sent us. Nothing.”

Parker sighed. “Keep looking.” She sat back at her desk. Broots and Sydney left.

- - - -

DEKALB COUNTY CORONER OFFICE
1:43 AM

Dr. Kevin Marakan walked into his office, having been called in on a hit and run. He walked into the examining room, and stopped when he saw Jarod leaning up against the examining table.

“Hello, Dr. Marakan,” he replied cheerfully.

“What’s going on?” Marakan asked. “Where’s the body I’m supposed to look at?”

“Actually, there is no body,” Jarod replied. “I just called you here, because there is something we need to talk about.”

“Like what?”

“Why are there pages missing from Jason Reed and Michael Madison’s autopsy reports?” Jarod asked.

Marakan paled slightly as he backed up. “I - I - I have nothing to say,” he stammered. He turned to leave, but Samantha stepped out from her hiding place.

“Oh, yes, do you,” she replied. She pushed him back and shut the door. She and Jarod crowed the coroner.

“Why are there pages missing?” Jarod asked again in a threatening tone.

“Did you help kill them?” Samantha asked.

“No!” Marakan replied. “I had nothing to do with their deaths.”

“Then what are you hiding?”

“He told me to,” Marakan said, shaking slightly. “He said, make them look like accidents. If not, I’d be next. He said he had a friend who could help make it happen.”

“Who is he?” Samantha asked.

“I don’t know,” Marakan answered. “Light brownish hair. About six feet. I didn’t get his name, but he was definitely an Animal Control officer; he was wearing a brown uniform with DCAC on it.”

“Dekalb County,” Jarod replied.

“Yeah,” Marakan nodded. “So, I followed his advice and hid the pages, ruling both deaths as accidental. I was scared he was going to follow through on his threats.”

“Where did you hide them?” Samantha asked.

Marakan walked over to a wall where his framed diplomas hung. He took one off the wall and took the matting off. He pulled two pages out and handed them to Samantha. “There,” he said. Samantha handed the page with Jason’s information to Jarod. The two Pretenders read the information.

“There were traces of Acepromazine in Jason’s blood,” Jarod said.

“Mike’s too,” Samantha replied. “That’s an animal tranquilizer.”

“Commonly used by veterinarians,” Jarod added. “We’re done here, Sam. Let’s go.” The two left Marakan in his office.

“It makes sense,” Samantha said as they walked down the hall. “If Packard was getting paid to get animals for Avalon Pharmaceuticals, then he would want to get those animals quickly and quietly without drawing attention. What better way to do it than to steal animals from where you worked?”

“So he recruited two people to help him,” Jarod replied. “Brad Fischer and Robert Mackenzie.”

“And Packard used Bobby’s police record as leverage to get him to help steal the horses.”

“And, somehow, Mike and Jason found out about them stealing the animals.”

“But before they were able to talk, Brad and Bobby killed them, using the Acepromazine they got from Packard to make their deaths look like accidents.”

Jarod smirked. “And now that we know who killed who, the real fun begins.” Samantha grinned.

- - - -

Mackenzie was walking down the middle of the stalls. There were a few lights on, but the horses were sound asleep. He looked at his watch as he walked. It was almost one in the morning. He sighed as he stopped, leaned against one of the stalls, and rubbed his head.

“You okay, Bobby?” Mackenze turned around and saw Samantha walking toward him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Just taking a stroll,” Samantha shrugged. “It gives me the chance to think about things I’ve done, sometimes things that I regret doing.”

“I don’t have any regrets,” Mackenzie replied.

“Not even about killing Mike Madison?”

Mackenzie jerked his head up and looked at the young woman. “What are you talking about?”

“I know about everything. The stolen horses, Packard, Avalon Pharmaceuticals, and the Acepromazine you used to kill Mike when he threatened to expose it all.”

Mackenzie glared at Samantha. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Bailey.” He marched past Samantha, but Jarod came out from one of the stalls and stopped him.

“It’s not nice to walk out on a lady while she’s talking to you,” he said. Mackenzie swung a fist at Jarod, but he blocked it and delivered one of his own. Mackenzie fell backwards onto the floor, clutching his cheek. He tried to get up, but Samantha planted her foot firmly on his chest.

“Why did you kill Mike?” she asked.

“I didn’t kill him!” Mackenzie protested.

“Why do I think you’re lying?” Samantha asked.

“I mean, everything you said was true. Packard came to me one day, told me that he knew about my warrant, and said if I didn’t help him steal those horse, he’d turn me in, so I agreed. One day, Mike told me that he found out that the horses that had been euthanized were actually being taken to a nearby pharmaceutical company, said that the same thing was happening over at the Dekalb Animal Control. Some guy was helping him.”

“Jason Reed?” Jarod asked.

Mackenzie nodded. “I called up Packard, and he gave me some Acepromazine the next time he came out to see the horses. He said to make it look like an accident. That night, I got Mike out to the barn and gave him some coffee with the Acepromazine in it. After he fell asleep, I dragged him to one of the stalls . . . but I couldn’t do it.”

“So, if you didn’t kill him, then who did?” Jarod asked.

“Brad Fischer. He followed me, saying he didn’t trust me to kill Mike. He took the matches I was planning on using, struck one, and lit the cigarette next to Mike’s body. He shoved me out of the stable, then left himself.”

“Did anyone see or hear him leave?” Samantha asked.

“No.” He took a ragged breath. “After he was gone, I went to my room and stayed there until around one, when everyone started running out. I knew then Mike was already dead.” He looked like he was about to cry.

“Don’t you feel better now that you got that off your chest?” Samantha asked as she removed her foot. She and Jarod left Mackenzie. “So, now what? We go question Brad?”

“There’s no need to, Sam. I know how Jason was killed.”

“How?”

“Brad also slipped the Acepromazine into Jason’s coffee the night he was killed. He was the only one there with Jason. Brad knew it would make him fall asleep quickly, thereby losing control of his car and crashing.”

“And now the fun begins?” Samantha asked.

“Exactly,” Jarod smirked.

- - - -

The next morning, Parker walked into her office and stopped short when she saw two packages on her desk. One was a box with Jarod’s handwriting on it, and the other was an envelope with Samantha’s handwriting on it. Parker walked over to her desk and carefully opened the box. Inside was a small lava lamp, with a piece of paper wrapped around it. Parker took the note off and read it:

No animal deserves to live in a cage.

J

Parker looked at the lamp and saw a small metal cage floating inside the lamp. Inside the cage was a small dog. She was in the process of opening the envelope when there was a knock on her door.

“What?” she asked as she opened the envelope. Broots and Sydney came walking in. They noticed the lava lamp and Parker opening the envelope.

“Jarod and Samantha?” Sydney asked.

“Who else?” Parker replied as she pulled a plastic jockey figurine, dressed in a red outfit. Nothing else. “And as usual, a dead end.” She tossed the figurine onto the desk, hitting the lava lamp. The lamp rocked, but before Parker could catch it, it fell to the floor and shattered, spilling the good everywhere. Parker groaned. “Great.”

As Sydney examined the jockey figurine, Broots knelt down and took the metal cage and dog out of the mess. He turned in over and saw a DCAC carved into the bottom. “Miss Parker, look.” He handed the cage to Parker, who looked at the letters. “DCAC. What does it mean?”

“It could have something to do with the Centre,” Sydney replied as he turned the figurine over. He could see a TQH on it, all three letters linked together. He held it up. “Looks like a symbol of some sorts.”

“Broots, get a -”

“Way ahead of you,” Broots replied. He took the figurine and the cage and left the office. Parker sighed and sat down in her chair.

“What’s bothering you, Parker?” Sydney asked. “You’ve been acting odd since you returned from Morocco.”

“Which also happens to be when that baldheaded ghoul was put in charge of the Centre, Syd. You do the math.”

“Is this is also about finding out he’s your father and not Mr. Parker?”

“I don’t get it,” Parker replied. “What would have been the point of keeping it a secret?”

“It’s the Centre,” Sydney said. “Secrets are everywhere.”

Parker looked at her friend. “Sydney, I have to know the truth.”

Sydney sighed. He knew there would be no way of changing her mind. “Where will you begin looking?”

“I don’t know,” Parker replied honestly.

- - - -

Nick yawned as he opened his eyes. His vision was slightly blurred as he tried to sit up. That’s when he realized his legs and hands were still tied together. He sighed. “Great, just great,” he whispered. He blinked again when he saw movement, and his vision cleared. He swallowed nervously when he realized the person moving wasn’t Samantha. He was tall, with dark hair, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. He smiled at Nick.

“Glad to see you’re finally awake,” he said. “You hungry?”

“Who the hell are you?” Nick asked, slightly on edge. He looked around. “And where am I?”

“My name is Jarod,” the man replied. “You’re in my apartment.” He untied Nick’s hands and feet, and the younger man slowly sat up, rubbing his wrists.

“How did I get here?” he asked.

“Sam and I brought you here after you fell asleep,” Jarod explained.

“You mean after she drugged me, don’t you?” Nick retorted.

Jarod shrugged. “Either way, you’re still here.”

“You’re the friend she mentioned?” Nick asked.

“That’s me. Now, I know you already know what’s going on; Samantha told me she explained everything to you.”

“Yeah, and then she knocked me out and made me take those sleeping pills,” Nick replied angrily as he stood up. He glared down at Jarod. “You do realize when I find her I’m going to kick her -”

“Hold it,” Jarod interrupted. “Before you go making any threats, wouldn’t you like to hear her side of the story?”

“Not really. What I’d like to do is get back to Talbert and tell him everything. And since you’re in on this, I think I’ll also go down to where you work, and tell your boss exactly what is going on.” He headed for the door, but Jarod hurried over and blocked his way, towering over him.

“Sit down,” he said firmly. He looked at Nick seriously, but not in a glaring fashion. Still, it was enough for Nick. He sighed and went back over to the couch. “Now, I can understand why you'd be upset at Sam. She acted impulsively, and I talked to her about that. But don’t be mad at her. She’s new at this.”

“And what exactly is ‘this?’” Nick asked.

“We’re here to find the truth about why two men were killed, Nick. One of them was your friend, and you have every right to be upset. But I’m asking you let us handle this.”

“Why?”

“Because Bobby didn’t kill Mike.”

Nick looked up at him. “I thought he was part of stealing those horses.”

“He was, but he was coerced by Dr. Packard. He has a warrant out on his arrest from the State of California, and Packard threatened to tell the police if he didn’t help him out.”

“What about Mike?”

“He did drug him, but he couldn’t bring himself to kill him.”

“Then how did he die?”

“Another man, who was also working with Packard, followed Bobby and killed Mike.” He sighed. “We’re going to make them pay for what they did, Nick.”

Nick sat, staring straight ahead as he took in everything Jarod told him. He sighed. “I want to help. Mike was my friend, Jarod.”

“Only on two conditions,” Jarod said. “First of all, Sam and I are in charge of this, okay? What we say goes.”

“And second?”

“Don’t be mad at Sam.” Nick slowly nodded. “Good, now what do you say I give you a lift back to Carrolton?”

“You know, people are going to ask questions. I mean, I’ve been gone for . . .”

“A day,” Jarod replied. “And don’t worry, Sam’s taken care of it.”

- - - -

“How did this happen?” Talbert asked Nick inside his office. Nick was sitting in a chair, and Talbert was pacing round, looking rather displeased. Jarod and Sam were also in there as well, standing behind Nick.

“They came out of nowhere, sir,” Nick said. “One punched me in the face, which is how I got this.” Nick pointed to his eye where Samantha had punched him. It had long since turned a wicked shade of purple. “Next thing I know, I’m in his apartment.” Nick nodded to Jarod. “All my money gone.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he found you when he did,” Talbert said. “Who knows what could have happened out there?” He nodded at Jarod. “Thank you again, Mr. Sharpe.”

“None at all,” Jarod replied.

“Sam, take Nick back to his room. I’d like him to get some rest.” Samantha nodded and the three left the office.

“Here, I got something for you in the truck,” Jarod said. He turned to Nick. "Would you excuse us, please?" Nick waited while Samantha and Jarod went to the truck. Jarod pulled out a little box and handed it to Samantha. They talked for a little bit, then Samantha came back over while Jarod left.

“What was that about?” Nick asked as they headed back toward the house.

“I’ll tell you later,” Samantha replied.

“Okay, about why I was missing. You couldn’t think of anything else?” Nick asked.

“Like what?” Samantha replied.

“I don’t know.” They walked to Nick’s room, where Nick sprawled out on his bed.

“Nick?” He looked up. “I’m sorry for what I did. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I acted impulsively.”

“You did. I’ll forgive you, though.”

“That’s generous of you.”

“Well, I wasn’t mad at you in the first place, really. I was mad at myself.”

Samantha looked confused. “I don’t follow.”

“You caught me off guard, Sam. I wasn’t expecting a girl to do that.”

“Gee, thanks,” Samantha smiled.

Nick returned the smile. “You know what I mean.”

“Get some rest, Nick.” Samantha left, closing the door behind her. When she was safely inside her room, she opened up the box. She smiled when she held up the bottle, reading the label. It read ‘Diazepam.’

- - - -

Later that day, Jarod was gathering up the records that he had been looking over. He grabbed his clown Pez dispenser and munched on a piece. Beside him were a few electronics, including a remote control device.

- - - -

Samantha was busy in her room, measuring out a syringe of Diazepam. She put it down on the desk and then gathered up papers and records into a manila envelope marked Talbert. When the envelope was filled, she sealed it.

- - - -

Jarod busied himself by fiddling with the remote control device, smirking.

- - - -

Samantha sat at the kitchen table, while Mackenzie and Nick sat across her. Mackenzie was on the phone, calling with Brad Fischer. “Hey, Brad, it’s Bobby. Look, some reporter has been asking questions about Mike’s death. Can we talk about it here, tonight?” He paused. “Sure. Midnight.” He hung up the phone.

“Perfect,” Samantha smiled.

- - - -

Jarod measured Valerian Root powder and coffee grounds. Nearby, a manila envelope, labeled Tammy, was sealed and stuffed.

- - - -

DEKALB COUNTY ANIMAL CONTROL
11:27 PM

Jarod walked to his office and saw Brad putting on his jacket. His desk was clean. “Hey, Jarod, I’m heading out for the night,” he said. “I gotta meet a friend, and I don’t want to be late.” He left the office, leaving Jarod by himself.

“Of course not,” Jarod replied under his breath. He looked at his watch, then started turning off all the lights. He left the office and walked down to Packard’s office. The doctor was at his desk, sipping the coffee that Jarod had brought him earlier in the evening.

“Almost ready to leave, sir?” he asked. “I’m ready to lock up.” Packard looked up, his eyelids drooping. He yawned.

“Soon, Jarod,” he replied. He yawned again, just as his fax machine turned on. As the paper rolled through, Packard picked it up and read it to himself. Jarod could see him pale slightly as his eyes widened. There was a copy of the missing page from Jason Reed’s autopsy report with the message, “The Truth Shall Set You Free” written across it in bold, black letters.

“Is something the matter?” Jarod asked, looking concerned.

Packard quickly stuffed the paper into his desk. “I’m fine,” he replied quickly. He started getting ready to leave. “Is Brad still here?”

“He just left. Said he had to go meet a friend. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Packard replied. He gathered up some papers, then pushed past Jarod. He walked to the parking lot where he had parked his car, wobbling slightly as fatigue began to take its effect on him. Packard had to lean against objects as he slowly made his way to his car, but he finally managed to get inside. His head drooped as he fumbled for his keys. He got them out, but he couldn’t seem to make them fit inside the ignition as his vision started to blur.

The driver’s side door opened and Jarod knelt down. “I’m glad to see that it’s working just fine.”

“What?” Packard asked.

“Oh, just the Valerian Root powder I slipped into your coffee earlier this evening. It’s one hell of a sedative.” He took the keys from Packard. “I’ll take those.”

“What are you doing?” Packard mumbled as his head lolled.

“Well, I can’t let you drive off in your condition,” Jarod replied. “You could crash your car or something.” He waited a moment, then leaned in and stuck the key in the ignition and started the engine.

“What are you doing?” Packard asked as Jarod fastened his seatbelt.

“Doing what you did to Jason Reed the night you killed him,” Jarod said menacingly.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Maybe not directly, but you provided Brad Fischer with the Acepromazine, which is a common tranquilizer used by veterinarians. The same Acepromazine that Brad slipped into Jason’s coffee, knowing it would make him unable to drive.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Jarod said as he pulled out the remote control device. He started fiddling with it.

“What’s that?” Packard asked.

“Just a little toy I made,” Jarod replied. “You see, I took a circuit board with a grafted antenna and attached it to your car’s steering system. Watch this.” Jarod rolled down the window, shut the door, then pushed a button on the device, and the car’s engine started. “Pretty neat, huh? That means I control your car now, and I can make it do anything I want. Including crashing it into a pole or something and making it look like an accident.”

“What do you want?” Packard asked as he tried to move, but was too weak.

“The truth about why you provided the Acepromazine to Brad Fischer he could kill Jason Reed.”

“I didn’t.”

“A little concerned because Jason found out about you stealing people’s pets, huh? That you were selling them to Avalon Pharmaceuticals and getting paid? And not only that, but you had Brad threaten the coroner to make his death look accidental.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jarod moved a dial on the device, and the car lurched forward a few feet. “Wrong answer.”

“You can’t do this.”

“Watch me.” Jarod moved the dial again, and the car lurched forward again.

“Okay, okay,” Packard mustered up his voice. “Jason found out about me stealing the animals. I told Brad to make it look like an accident, including talking with the coroner.”

“And what about Mike Madison? You coerced Bobby Mackenzie to help steal horses, threatening to expose him and his police record. And then when he told you Mike Madison found out, you gave him the Acepromazine to kill Mike as well, right?”

“He couldn’t even kill him,” Packard said. “He was too much of a coward. Brad had to kill him instead.”

“And who was paying you at Avalon for the animals?”

“Gooding. Louis Gooding.”

Jarod smiled, then pulled a small recording device. He replayed the conversation with Packard confessing to the murders. “And now it’s your turn, Billy. And don’t worry, I’ll make it look like an accident.” He pressed a button on the device, and the car peeled down the street, tires squealing. Packard tried pushing the breaks, but it was to no avail as the car headed straight for a light pole. Packard tried to turn the wheel, yell, or do something, but he was too weak.

At the last possible moment, Jarod pushed a button on the device, and the car screeched to a halt, stopping inches from the pole. Packard looked up as Jarod came over and knelt down until he was eye level with Packard. The doctor looked absolutely petrified.

“Now, aren’t you glad you were wearing your seatbelt?” Jarod asked. Packard just looked at him.

“What kind of Animal Control officer are you?” he asked.

“Well, to be quite honest, I’m not really an Animal Control officer. I’m just Pretending.” Packard passed out and slumped forward. Jarod chuckled as he walked back to the parking lot.

- - - -

Brad stopped his truck near the stable and walked in. It was dark and quiet as he looked around for Mackenzie. “Bobby?” he whispered loudly.

“Over here,” Mackenzie whispered. Bobby followed the voice until he found Mackenzie standing in front of a familiar stall. Mackenzie looked a little nervous as he drank some coffee.

“What is going on?” Brad asked.

“Coffee?” Mackenzie asked, holding up a second steaming cup.

Brad took it and gulped it down. “Now, what’s up?”

“Some reporter showed up today,” Mackenzie replied. “She was asking questions about Mike’s death. She also kept asking about the number of horses we have. I’m telling you, Brad, she knows something. What if she squeals?”

“She won’t,” Brad replied. “I’ll take care of it.”

“How?”

“Like I took care of Mike and Jason.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be possible.” Brad turned around and saw Samantha standing behind him. Before he could react she stabbed him in the arm with the Diazepam-filled syringe she had in her hand.

“Who the hell are you?” Brad asked, but he immediately started feeling woozy. He stumbled backwards before falling onto the ground. He was out cold. Samantha came over and knelt beside him.

“What the hell was that?” Mackenzie asked.

“Diazepam,” Samantha replied. “Don’t worry, he won’t be out that long.” Samantha put the cap back over the syringe, then handed it to Mackenzie. She grabbed Brad’s wrist and dragged him over to the stall.

- - - -

Brad’s head was more than a little fuzzy and he opened his eyes. His vision was blurred, so he blinked again, and everything slowly came into focus. That’s when he realized he was laying in the back of a stall. He could see Samantha kneeling beside him, smiling.

“Rise and shine,” she said.

“Who are you?” Brad asked, slightly slurred. “What am I doing here?”

“That is an interesting question,” Samantha said. “Why are we here?”

“Bitch,” Brad muttered.

“Hey, that’s no way to talk to a lady. As to your question, you’re here because you killed two men, and it’s time to avenge those deaths.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Save it, Brad. I know all about your little scam with Dr. Billy. Stealing horses, dogs, and cats, and selling them to Avalon Pharmaceuticals.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Samantha removed a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and pulled one out. She pulled a matchbox out of her other pocket. “I think you do,” she replied. She flicked the cigarette at Brad. It landed next to his left hand. “Your brand. Jarod snuck into your desk today and let me know.” She stood up. “So, you going to talk?”

“Go to hell.”

“Did I mention that this hay is extremely dry, which makes it a fire hazard.” She pulled out a match. “Now, tell what you did, and I won’t drop a lighted match onto the hay.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Samantha’s smile faded. “You really believe that?” She stuck the match then lowered it to the hay.

“Okay, okay,” Brad said quickly. He sighed. “I did it.”

Samantha blew out the match. “Did what?”

“I killed Mike and Jason.”

“Why?”

“They found out that we were stealing animals and giving them to Avalon for drug testing. Gooding paid Packard, and Packard would give me a cut of it. After Mike and Jason found out, Packard gave me some of that Acepromazine and told me to make their deaths look accidental. I put it in Jason’s coffee the night he was killed. That’s why he crashed his car.”

“And Mike?”

“Bobby was supposed to take care of it, but I knew he wouldn’t have the balls to go through with it. I followed him the night Mike was killed and saw Bobby hadn’t set fire to the place like he was supposed to.”

“So, you did it instead.”

“Yes.”

Samantha walked over to a feed bucket and pulled a small tape recorder out. She rewound and played the entire thing, smirking at Brad. “I think the police are going to like this.” She stuck the recorder in her pocket and pulled out another match.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Brad asked.

“Giving you your just desserts.” Samantha struck the match and dropped it. Immediately, the flame ignited the hay, forming a semi-circle around Brad. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t do anything more that shout and cough as Samantha walked out of the stall, locking it behind her. Nick and Mackenzie were both waiting for her.

“How long are you going to wait to tell him that all the hay’s wet except for that area around him?” Nick asked.

Samantha pulled out the phone and handed it to Nick. “After the police get here.” She smirked and walked away.

- - - -

THE CENTRE
9:34 AM

Parker looked up from her desk as Broots and Sydney came walking in. “We found them,” Broots said.

“How?” Parker asked, looking up.

“Well, I ran both the DCAC that was on the tranquilizer gun Jarod sent us and on the bottom of the cage, and also the jockey figurine with the TQH letters linked together. TQH with the letters linked like this is the symbol for a horse ranch named Talbert’s Quarter Horses. It’s in Carrolton, Georgia, which fits with the area that the carpet grass comes from. So, I looked into it further, and I discovered they has just recently hired a new horse trainer by the name of Samantha Bailey, as in Jerry Bailey, the jockey.”

“And the DCAC?” Parker asked.

Well, I worked on a hunch, and I checked the surrounding area for that acronym. There were a few, but I think I narrowed it down to the Dekalb County Animal Control office in Atlanta, which is only about twenty miles from Carrolton.”

“Let’s go,” Parker said. As the trio were starting to leave, Lyle and Cox came into the office. “What do you want?”

“We heard Broots found Samantha and Jarod,” Cox replied. “Where are they?” The trio glanced at each other.

“Carrolton and Atlanta, both in Georgia,” Parker replied finally. “You two want to tag along so badly, you can go after Samantha. Jarod is ours.” Parker walked out of the office. Lyle and Cox were behind her, and Sydney and Broots were behind both of them.

- - - -

TALBERT’S QUARTER HORSES
10:19 AM

Nick and Samantha were standing near Nick’s truck. Samantha had her bag slung over her shoulder. Nearby, Jarod was leaning up against a car, his arms folded.

“There’s no way you can stay?” Nick asked.

“I wish there was, but I can’t, Nick. People are looking for Jarod and myself. It would be too dangerous.”

Nick nodded, accepting what Samantha said. “You know, you never answered my question.”

“Which one?”

“Who are you two exactly?”

“Think of us as private investigators.” Samantha kissed Nick’s cheek. “Bye.” Samantha walked over to the car and got in. Jarod got in and started the engine. As they drove off, Samantha waved at Nick. She sighed as she leaned back in her seat.

“You okay?” Jarod asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“You did a good job, Sam. I’m proud of you.”

Samantha smiled. “Thanks. So, where are we off to now?”

“North,” Jarod smiled.

- - - -

A few hours later, Parker pulled her rental up near a black truck. Nearby, Cox and Lyle were waiting. Sydney, Broots, and Sam the Sweeper got out and walked over to them.

“Find anything?” Parker asked.

“They’re gone,” Lyle replied. “You?”

Parker held up a red notebook and a lava lamp. “Just the usual breadcrumbs. You?”

Lyle held up a purple notebook. Lyle showed them one of the pages which a newspaper article on it. The one everyone was looking at read:

LOCAL VETERINARIAN, ANIMAL CONTROL OFFICER LINKED TO DEATHS, STOLEN ANIMALS

A smaller headline underneath read:

LOCAL PHARMACEUTICAL COMPANY IMPLICATED IN ANIMAL THEFTS

“Samantha’s?” Sydney asked.

“Sure as hell doesn’t belong to the Easter Bunny,” Lyle replied. “We’re done here.” He and Cox walked over to their car nearby and got in. Parker, Sydney, Broots, and Sam walked over to their car.

“So, what do you make of this, Syd?” Parker asked as they got in.

“Who knows?” Sydney replied. “All I do know for sure is that we’re probably going to be coming across a lot more notebooks now.” Parker didn’t say anything as she drove off.

THE END