Greetings! This took me a bit longer than I would have liked to get started, but it's all planned out now so updates should be steady. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Do I own Crossing Jordan? Let me go check....um....nope, I don't.

Summary: When priceless paintings start disappearing and leaving dead bodies behind, Jordan and Woody hook up the the FBI and go undercover. If they can survive, they'll find a love more valuable than any art piece.

A Picture's Worth

Chapter One: Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?

Jordan ran through the forest, cursing everything that had happened in the last two weeks. She should have known that something like this would happen—she attracted trouble like a magnet.

Right now, though, she didn't have time to analyze the consequences of letting the FBI send her and Woody undercover. Somehow they had figured her out. They suspected Woody, but weren't sure yet. Woody had told Jordan to run…if she didn't get out of there, they would kill her. He stayed behind to keep his cover and to try talking them out of going after her.

Jordan didn't know if he was successful or not. She had no choice but to keep going until she found a place to call for help.

Her jacket caught on a branch, and Jordan tugged at it forcefully, causing the fabric to rip. It came free, and she kept going. Someday, she was going to run out of luck…she just hoped that it wasn't today.

(Two weeks earlier)

Nigel whistled as Jordan pulled the morgue van into the driveway of the largest mansion on the street. "Sweet Nancy," he said clutching his heart.

Jordan chuckled. "It's probably going on the market soon, Nige. But you'll have to get a better job," she said before climbing out of the driver's seat and shutting the door.

Looking to her right where Woody just pulled up, Jordan noticed he was having the same reaction as Nigel. She rolled her eyes and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Maybe you'd like to see the inside?" she asked. "You know…where the body is." She smirked as Woody came back to his senses, and they all headed into the house.

Nigel got straight to work taking photographs once they reached the study. An older man lay on the floor, blood pooled around his head. A bullet hole was visible. Above the body, a wall safe hung with its door wide open. It was empty.

Jordan gently turned the man over, revealing an exit wound in his forehead. "He's been dead for almost 8 hours," she told Woody after taking the liver temperature.

He nodded and took it down in his notebook. "I'll check back with you in a minute," he answered, indicating the frantic house staff that was watching from the doorway.

Jordan nodded and continued to work. "Wonder what he had in the safe that was so important?" Nigel mused aloud.

"Whatever it was, it wasn't important enough for him to get killed," Jordan replied. "Too bad rich people don't understand that until it's too late."

Together, they put the body into a bag and onto a gurney. Woody came back when he saw that they were ready to leave.

"What's his story?" Jordan asked.

"Arnold Rutledge, age 62," Woody began. "The butler and the maid say that he had a normal evening, and went to bed around ten. Your time of death places him here at around three in the morning."

"He heard something and got up? There's tons of security stuff here," Nigel interjected. "There are cameras outside, codes to get through the doors, more cameras in here, and the safe is state-of-the-art."

Woody waved his arm around. "Yeah, got that, Nige. Unless it was one of the cleaning staff, we're dealing with a pro. The butler and the head maid are the only two on the staff who live here, and they're quarters are on the other side of the house. Neither of them heard a thing."

"What was in the safe?" Jordan asked.

Flipping his notebook, Woody removed an additional piece of paper. "Some sort of painting. The butler took the liberty of looking it up on the internet…we have to wait for the lawyers to get a confirmation. Apparently, Mr. Rutledge just got it last week." Woody scrutinized the paper. "It's just a bunch of girls in ballet outfits. Says the painter is…Monette."

Jordan took the paper from him. "Let me see that," she said. She rolled her eyes again, and showed it to Nigel who burst into laughter. "It's Monet…you don't say the T, Woody. And he's a really famous painter. This is probably worth millions."

Woody took the paper back, disgruntled. "Great, now I don't only have to solve the murder, but find this million-dollar painting as well?"

Nigel patted him on the back. "Cheer up, mate. We'll help you."

"Yeah," Jordan added with a smile. "We always do."