Chapter One

If You Love Someone, Set Them Free….

Chapter One

Dr. Howard Stiles got off the elevator on floor nine with a spring in his step and a certain amount of trepidation in his heart. It was time for her yearly psych exam.

Her.

Yes. It was time for Jordan Cavanaugh's yearly psych exam. She had always been one of his most challenging patients – one of the hardest to get to open up and talk to him, yet the one morgue employee who needed it most. Not that she was unstable…not that anything was wrong with her. Jordan just needed to talk…about everything in her life that had happened to her…her mother's murder, her stormy relationship with her father…her lackluster love life and her seeming indifference to it.

Yet she would rather remain mum as a clam than share her thoughts with anyone…including a state psychiatrist who was bound by confidentiality laws.

He would tease, he would cajole, but the chances of dragging anything out of her would probably be diddley over squat. And he was more than aware of that as he turned the corner to go to her office, only to find…it was empty. He peeked in trace…checked all three autopsy rooms…she wasn't there. Chances are, she remembered what today was and was hiding, somewhere….anywhere in the building. He just hoped it wasn't the roof. The psychiatrist was just a little afraid of heights.

Finally he popped his head in Garret's office. "Dr. Macy…."

"Howard." Garret frowned. "It's not time for our yearly talk."

"No, it's not. But it's gratifying to know that you set your calendar by it. Truly it is. I'm looking for Dr. Cavanaugh."

"Jordan?"

"The one and only. It's time for her exam."

"Ah. Well, that explains it."

"It does?"

"She called in sick this morning…said she had the flu."

"Uh-huh. The flu, eh?"

Garret nodded. "And if it's any consolation, I don't think she remembered it was time for her annual 'talk'. She really sounded sick. And I think this was the one year she was really sort of looking forward to talking to you."

"You don't say?"

"Yeah…there's a lot going on in her head right now after what happened with Detective Hoyt….I think she needs an impartial third party to talk to…and she's kind of looking for that person to be you."

"You don't say?" Howard repeated again, not quite sure what to make of Jordan's sudden seemingly cooperative behavior.

"No, I do say…but I don't know when she'll be back."

"That's okay, Garret. This is one doctor who still makes house calls."

And with that Dr. Stiles made his way back to the elevator and then to Jordan's apartment. Fifteen minutes later, he was knocking on her red door. He saw her look through the peep hole and then cautiously open the door a crack. "Howard?" she croaked out.

"Can I come in?"

"I have the 'flu…."

"I've had the shot."

"Then, sure…but if you get sick, don't blame me." She pushed the door open a little wider and let Dr. Stiles in. He made a mental note of the vaporizer and box of tissues on her coffee table, as well as the comforter and pillow on her couch where she had obviously been resting. He took the chair across from her sick bed as she clicked the TV off. "So what brings you here, Howard?" she asked.

"It's time for our annual talk…and Garret said you called in sick…"

"And you're here to see if it's a legitimate excuse or if I'm playing hard to get again?" she questioned with a smirk on her face before a fit of coughing took over.

"No…Garret said you were sick. I just decided to stop by and see if you felt like talking…or if you needed to talk about anything." He put a subtle emphasis on needed.

Jordan regarded him for a moment. She did need to talk. The burden of carrying around what Woody had told her in his hospital room before he kicked her out still rattled around her head and broke her heart every night. She knew it was time for her exam and was hoping that however much she may hate Howard Stiles at times, that he would be the one that would help her put her life, Woody, and their relationship in perspective. Unbreak her heart. Help her move on.

"Yeah…well…I do…but I'm under the influence of Theraflu. So I'm can't be held accountable for anything I say. If you repeat it, I'll deny saying it."

Howard nodded.

"But because I am drugged, I'm probably going to be more talkative than usual."

"Not necessarily a bad thing, Jordan."

She sighed and sat cross-legged on the couch. "You remember what you asked me after I came to you when my apartment was broken into?"

"I told you that you weren't your mother…"

"You also asked me how my dating life was going…if I ever thought about getting married, having children…you told me to leave a door open to let myself out."

He nodded again. "And…"

"I took your advice. I let myself out and admitted to myself that I was in love…it took a while…but I did."

"That's good, Jordan. Wonderful…who's the lucky man?"

Jordan held up a hand to stop him in mid-congratulatory sphell. "It didn't work."

"You mean you chickened out of telling the man?"

"No. I told him."

"And?"

"He told me to…and I'm quoting here, 'Screw my pity', and 'Get out now'."

"I am not following you, Jordan."

"You remember Detective Hoyt?"

"He was the detective that was shot and nearly killed by the sniper last year….Is he the one?"

Jordan nodded miserably and relayed the story behind the sniper…the friendship ring…her initial rejection of it, only to change her mind. But when she tried to approach him again about it, he had played the friendship card. "It was then I realized I loved him…and I had to watch him move on…with women I knew, while I was stuck right where I was at. And then, when he was shot and I was so frightened I was going to lose him, I told him how I felt. I was thinking that it might give him the will to fight…or if…if…the worse happened, he would go knowing my heart. Instead, Woody thought that the reason I told him I loved him was because I felt sorry for him...and he kicked me out of his life, Howard. And I can't deal. For once in my life, I don't know what to do…I want to go on with my future, but if it doesn't include him…I'm not sure I want to. I'm just kind of existing…day by day…What am I supposed to do?"

"You love him very much don't you?"

"I do. I really do. But I waited too long to tell him. Just like with everything else in my life, I've screwed this up, too. I didn't tell him soon enough…and he had put up with my hesitation too long. He thought I was rejecting him…I just had to be sure of my feelings."

"Have you told him all of this?"

"No." Her chin lowered to her chest and Howard could have sworn he saw tears in Jordan's eyes. "He won't talk to me….he hasn't worked with me….he's been on desk duty…"

"So when was the last time you saw him?"

"Not since…the day he kicked me out of his life."

Howard was quiet for a moment, studying her face. "You know the story about letting go, don't you Jordan?"

She gave him a puzzled look. "I don't think so…."

"If you love someone, let them go. If they come back to you, they were yours from the beginning. If they don't, they never were yours to begin with."

Jordan snorted and then sneezed…several times. Howard handed her a tissue. "The problem is, Howard, is that I didn't let Woody go. I drove him off. And he's not going to return. I've got to learn to let him go."

Still regarding her carefully, Howard said, "That might be the healthiest thing for you to do, Jordan. Let him go. Move on with your life. After all, you're not getting any younger…"

Jordan glared at him. Howard chuckled in response, letting her know he was joking. She finally laughed along with him. "I know…I know…" she said, but then adding softly, "I'm just not sure my heart will ever recover."

"Scar tissue can be pretty tough, Jordan. I know you don't feel like it now, but everything will work out. Your broken heart will heal." She gave him a doubtful look. "It will…besides, I remember the way Woody used to look at you. He'll be back, Jordan. I'd bet money on it."

"Have you seen him since the shooting?"

"No…no, I haven't."

Jordan drew a shaky breath. "Then you have no idea how angry he was when he told me to go screw my pity…and to get out of his life. He was furious. I didn't have to set him free, Howard. He set me free. The problem is, I don't want to be free. I want back in the cage….but Woody slammed the door shut and locked it. He's not letting me back in.