As always, thank you to my readers - and especially to Cittykat17 and Tracey for their continued reviews!

Chapter 10

The ringing of Woody's cell phone dragged Jordan out of her sleep, and she reached out to blindly run her hand over the bedside table for it. "'Ello?"

"Doctor Cavanaugh?"

"Oh. It's you." She scowled, glancing at the alarm clock by the bed with an annoyed expression on her face. Six thirty. She and Woody had been asleep all day. "Whadda ya want?"

"Always a pleasure, talking to you," Office Stone responded angrily. "Where's Detective Hoyt? I was hoping he would pick up, since this is his number."

"He's sleeping right here next to me. Should I wake him?" she said callously, not caring even a little bit that she had just given him the impression that they'd been doing more than sleeping all day. The other end of the line was awkwardly silent at that. "Really, what do you want? Because I'm exhausted, and I get grumpy when I'm exhausted."

"We have Sonders in custody. You wanted to be told, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," she muttered grudgingly.

"If you can get here in thirty minutes, we'll wait to start the interrogation."

They both hung up without a goodbye, and Jordan immediately rolled over out of Woody's arms to gather her clothes off the floor. "Wake up, Woody! We need to go." He didn't respond, so she reached out and shook his shoulder. "Come on, get up!"

"Wha's going on?" he mumbled, one hand moving over the warm spot on the bed she had just vacated, trying to find her. "Where'd you go?"

"That was Stone," she explained in a rush, sniffing at her shirt and deeming it clean enough to wear again. "They have Holly's doctor in custody, and he's waiting for us to start the interrogation. Get your ass up and let's go!"

Woody just smiled as she threw his pants at his face.

xXx

Henry Sonders was a mouse of a man. Pinched face, bristly grey hair, and little brown eyes – and he was jumpy as could be. He flinched when Woody and Stone entered the interview room after the detective had been given a full update on what the earlier search had procured. Jordan watched from behind the two-way mirror, a faint grin on her lips. Her sharp Farm Boy would have this guy cracked in fifteen minutes. Tops.

"So," he began, pulling out the chair closest to Sonders and sitting down heavily. Jordan was the only one who could tell he wasn't fully recovered yet, and the psychiatrist looked up at him in panic. "How long have you been treating Holly Whitaker?"

"W-who?"

"Holly Whitaker. You know, the woman you told to kill her husband?"

Sonders shook his head, eyes going wide. "I-I don't…don't know what you're talking about!"

"We have your computer, Doctor," Stone said coldly, "and we've found some very incriminating emails between you and one Dudley Evans. Care to tell us who he is?"

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about!" Sonders insisted again as his gaze darted back and forth between the two men. "You must have the wrong person! Please, I-I don't know anything."

"So this -" Woody smacked the letter Jordan had discovered in Holly's box down on the table, "this isn't from your clinic, typed on your expensive paper, with your signature at the bottom?" The color drained from the man's face. "Mrs. Whitaker's files were hidden in a drawer in your personal office. Still want to claim you don't have any idea what we're talking about?"

The frightened man quickly shook his head. "Look, I didn't know, okay? I didn't know what they were planning until it was too late to back out!"

Five minutes, Jordan smiled. A tied record for him. Not bad.

"Who?" Woody's voice was firm, and Sonders stared at him as it became clear just how much trouble he was in.

"E-evans," the doctor stammered as the story began to spill out. "I got a call from him almost a y-year ago. He and another man asked for my help. Said they were l-lawyers working on a case and needed access to someone."

"So you just agreed to take an innocent woman off her medication, fully knowing how dangerous that was?"

"No! No, I never saw her myself, I swear! All I did was arrange to have her transferred to my practice."

Never saw her himself? Jordan pursed her lips and tapped sharply on the glass. That rat bastard. Giving Sonders a harsh glare the glued him to his chair, Woody pulled Stone out of the room. Jordan met them in the hallway. "I wanna talk to him," she requested the second the door closed.

"Absolutely not," Stone immediately responded, appalled that she would even ask. "Nothing he says to you would ever stick in court. Stay out of this."

Reacting to his anger with just as much of her own, she poked him in the chest the way she had done the day before. "We're both doctors," she pointed out, quickly growing agitated. "He might trust me more than you."

Woody stepped between them and pushed the two apart, sensing a brewing argument and not wanting things to erupt. He let his hand linger on Jordan's shoulder as he felt her take a calming breath. "Just let her in," he said softly. "She knows what she's doing – and she's right; he might open up to her."

"Is this the way you work in Boston?" the officer asked incredulously. "It's a wonder you even get any convictions, letting an M.E. lead your investigations."

Both of them bristled at that, and Jordan clenched her jaw to bite back a furious retort. Rising to the bait would only make things worse. "Are you gonna let me in or not?"

"No," he spat. "I'm not."

She opened her mouth to yell something back, unable to keep the lid on her temper any longer, but Woody leaned down and murmured into her ear before she could. "Let it go, Jo."

"Fine," she whispered dejectedly, then lowered her voice another notch so that only he would hear what she had to say. "Sonders said he didn't treat her. I'm willing to bet one of these two lawyers saw her themselves, pretending to work at the clinic. Get the doc to flip on them, and you'll nail all three."

"You got it."

Stone eyed the intimate conversation with distaste, muttering something under his breath and turning away as Woody pressed a quick kiss to the side of her forehead. She watched in annoyance as the two men went back into the room without her, then went back into the viewing room to witness Woody tear the guy apart. Maybe they'd be done with this case for good by midnight.

xXx

It worked, to an extent. With Jordan's tip, all it took was ten more minutes of prying before Sonders broke.

Dudley Evans, a lawyer from the now defunct Dooney & Cliff, had initially approached the doctor with the request that Holly Whitaker be transferred into his care. He claimed at the time that he was her lawyer and acting on her own wishes, but he later went back to Sonders with a check for a quarter million dollars and the demand that he do what Evans said, no questions asked. That included taking Holly off her medication and leaving the two of them – Holly and Evans – alone for the duration of her weekly "sessions". He had been the one that ultimately drove Holly to murder her husband for him, though Sonders had indeed provided the xylazine at the prompt of another ten grand. The motivation was still unknown, as was the name of his accomplice.

Sonders claimed that he had no idea what was going on, but Jordan's blood burned with resentment at his admission and, as Woody bought them both coffee from the diner by the precinct, she held nothing back.

"He's a doctor!" she all but yelled as he guided her toward a booth against the far wall. "Even I took that 'do no harm' oath, and I cut up corpses for a living!" That earned her a few nervous looks from fellow patrons, but she skillfully avoided their glances without a thought. Woody, on the other hand, blushed at her raised voice and the attention it was garnering as she continued her rant. "He betrayed her trust, Woody! She may never be able to recover from this."

She suddenly sobered and stared down into her black coffee, breath coming out in a drawn-out sigh. "What a twisted way to murder someone, huh? They almost got away with it."

"But they didn't," Woody reminded her gently, stopping the anxious movement of her fingers over the lip of her mug with his hand. "Like you said before – Holly will get the help she needs now. You saw to that yourself."

"I know, I know. I just…" She wet her lips and lowered her eyes, but not before he caught a glimmer of something in their brown depths, something that said there was more behind her words than she was telling him. "I just want to go home."

With that one sentence, he felt his world start to crumble. Go home. Away from him? Away from what relationship they had started? That's what she was trying to say, wasn't it? His brain ran through the possible meanings, only coming to the worst conclusions. Since arriving at the house in Rhode Island, he had been worried that she'd been pulling away from him. Rebuilding all of those walls that she had taken down during the last few weeks. What if she'd simply had the taste she wanted and was ready to go back to the way things had been before?

Just as he began to feel sick to his stomach, Jordan turned her hand over so that she could interlace their fingers. "Woody."

She raised her gaze again, and he knew that she could read his emotions as though reading his mind. He swallowed and broke the stare, bracing himself for her let-down. But it didn't come. Confused, he chanced another glance at her, only to see her grinning at him.

"I didn't mean what you obviously think I meant," she said, her words light enough to begin easing his fears. "What's that saying? 'Home is where the heart is'?" She pulled her hand away, and his heart almost stopped when she stood up. But then she walked around the table and slid onto the bench seat next to him. "I just meant that I want to go back to Boston. With you, not away from you. I'm not sure I like it here very much."

Woody couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped his lips as she leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I think," he muttered, "that you just don't enjoy not having any kind of authority over this case."

"Mmm, maybe a bit of that, too."

"I'm sorry, Jo," he suddenly said, turning his head to look at her. She was so close that their noses almost brushed together, but neither of them flinched away. "For doubting you just now."

Jordan shrugged and gave him a closed-lipped smile. "With my track record, I can't really blame you. But I promise, Woody – I'm not going anywhere. Not this time. Not unless you want me to," she added softly.

"No," he said immediately, wrapping his arms around her as though she were suddenly going to vanish into thin air. "No way. Saying that to you before, two years ago…I think that may have been the biggest mistake of my life. I regretted it every day, and then Pollack…." He shook his head and Jordan pressed her face against his neck, hiding and not wanting to think about it. "No. I do not want you to go anywhere."

He could feel her faint smile against his skin, but she felt stiff in his embrace. Something was still bothering her. "Jordan? What's the matter?"

"I…" But her voice broke off, and she had to take a deep breath before she could continue. "I dodged a bullet this time, with the swelling. But before I found out…when I thought that thing was growing again…" She started to shake, and Woody's arms tightened around her. The hustle and bustle of the diner went ignored as small tears began to fall down her cheeks and wet his neck.

"Jo-"

"Woody, I-I don't know if I could put you through that – having to watch me die from something so awful. Not after what you went though with your mom. It would be selfish of me to expect it of you. So I'm giving you an out. Maybe you can find some other woman to grow old with."

"God, Jordan." No other words would form in his mouth, and so he just reached up and cradled the back of her head with his hand, holding her gently as she silently cried against him. Her hair was so soft under his palm; he couldn't even begin to imagine a life without her now. "I don't want you to go," he whispered, repeating it over and over until she finally began to believe him. Tears threatened to form in his eyes, and he blinked them furiously away, not wanting her to see.

He didn't try to tell her that everything would be okay, or that they would grow old together. While she didn't have cancer like his mother had, this kind of thing… He knew it was unpredictable. All she could promise him was the right now – but that would always be enough. "You're all I want, Jordan. No other woman. You. We'll make it through this together one way or another. In sickness and in health, right?"

She sniffed and pulled back enough to snatch a napkin off the table to wipe her nose with. "Right," was all she said, not commenting on his allusion to marriage. She hated feeling this weak – this vulnerable – but she gave in this time and allowed the strength of his convictions to carry her through. Besides, it was such a huge relief, to hear him say that he didn't care about her illness. She had needed to hear those words more than she had realized. It had been eating at her unconscious mind for weeks, and she was glad to have it out in the open now.

Trying to gather herself a bit, Jordan leaned over and grabbed her mug. "My coffee's cold," she whined with a feigned frown.

"Hey, Jo?" Woody asked softly. She turned to look at him, patiently waiting for him to continue. "Don't get reckless now, okay? Just because you think the tumor might kill you…don't go chasing down murderers with guns, or any of that other crazy stuff you do. A gunshot could still… Just don't deliberately put yourself in harm's way. Please."

"Jeez, Woody," she muttered. But there was a familiar spark in her eye again. The moment had passed; she was almost back to normal. "You don't want me to have any fun, do you?"

He laughed and pressed his forehead to her temple. "Stone probably won't be able to track down this rogue lawyer and his accomplice tonight. Wanna head back to the house?"

Her slight nod was all the affirmation he needed.

xXx

"How are you feeling?" Jordan asked as soon as they let themselves into their borrowed town home. "Tired? I have some zofran in my bag if you're still feeling nauseated." She reached out to touch his forehead, checking his temperature.

Woody had no idea what zofran even was, but he shook his head anyway and took her hand. "I'm fine, doctor. Really. I'm feeling much better." He pulled her closer until her chest was pressed to his. "Much better," he repeated with emphasis. She stared up at him, knowing exactly what he was hinting at, and her amber eyes flashed with a need that went straight to his core.

Their conversation from the diner still fresh in his mind, he leaned his head down and kissed her fiercely on the mouth. She only hesitated for a second before responding fully, her hands already slipping under his shirt and up his back. A soft moan escaped her throat as Woody's lips traveled over her neck and across her shoulder, his hand pushing her blouse and bra strap away as he went. And then he pulled her shirt over her head, and she did the same with his, and they moved backward together through the foyer toward the stairs, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake.

"I love you, Woody," Jordan whispered hoarsely, cupping his face in both of her hands and kissing him with an incredible desperation as they stumbled down the hallway and into the bedroom. He almost died yesterday. "I love you, I love you."