Chapter 11. Dealing with ambiguity.

"We have a woman with gunshot wound on the back. I really hope she can make it, but…" Jordan shook her head. She knew that the woman's chances were very low.

"So, after this disaster, it seems that your apprentice has won his first war prize, hasn't he?" Woody tilted his head toward Dylan's wound. "You were lucky, Jordan. You could have gotten injured as well. You really shouldn't risk yourself in this manner…" He glanced at her earnestly and way too sweet to Jordan's liking. He didn't want to mock her; he was just establishing his point of view. It was incredibly difficult for him to stop protecting her. However, after Jordan glared at him, he got back to his professional stance. "Do we have a clue about the woman's identity?"

"No. Not really. I didn't have a chance to ask her name while I was reviving her." She answered sarcastically. Her reaction was a little over the top, but she wasn't truly angry at him – though she should, as Lu had told her so. It was that she felt uncomfortable being his damsel in distress. It was like she had never stopped being his 'almost something', as if Lu didn't exist. Jordan couldn't stand that ambiguity anymore. Actually, it was herself the one she was really mad at. She should be capable of processing this entire rejection thing in a better way; she should be dealing a little better how she felt about him. But she couldn't deny her love for Woody; it was irrational and went beyond her capacity. It wasn't a good idea to continue working together. It just hurt too much.

"I know who she is," Dylan interrupted them. Up to this point, he had just been watching them discuss, quietly. Ever since Thomas appeared dead at the docks, it was like he had been living his worst nightmare. Now that he was conscious of his wound, he was in a sea of pain; he struggled to cease it by squeezing strongly his injured forearm with his healthy hand, embracing himself.

Both, Woody and Jordan, turned to look at him at once, questioningly. "It's Mrs. Driscoll, Howard's mother," he uttered, gazing at Jordan.

Woody opened his eyes widely, emphasizing his still unresolved question. "And, who is Howard Driscoll?"

"Ah! That's the lead we were pursuing, and is only logical… we're in their house," she replied with a smile, thankful of Dylan's intervention. "Howard Driscoll, Thomas' classmate, he was in his soccer team too. He called Thomas on Saturday morning and, considering the recent events, he definitely had to do something with his death."

The CSU people worked on the scene while Jordan and the Professor told everything they knew to Woody. For now, the biggest question was Howard's whereabouts. He wasn't in the house and they couldn't rule him out as the attacker yet. Howard and his mother lived alone in that house; she was a widow and worked at the administrative office of Suffolk University. However, it wasn't making any sense that the boy had shot his mother, and it was also suspicious that the entrance door was ajar in the middle of the night in that neighborhood.

"We have a broken window with traces of blood, a footprint with some blood too on the sidewalk, and tire tracks on the pavement. We can identify him." One CS guy summarized it for Woody.

"Seek if the footprint matches with Howard's. There must be at least a pair of shoes resting in his room. Maybe we can know now if we have another victim on the way or our prime suspect," Woody ordered to the guy. Then, he talked to Richmond, "That would be all for today, Professor. But I need you tomorrow morning at the precinct. You have to give your statement. Just one more thing, let us do our job. The police is trained to do it, you aren't. If you insist on doing it by yourself, you're only going to get hurt, like today, and that'll complicate our work."

"Look, Detective." Dylan measured him with his eyes, still striving to maintain a good attitude. "I'll do whatever I can to cooperate with you, but… if something comes up and I have to act because of it… I won't hesitate. "

Jordan watched them both while they argued. She observed how they were very much alike. It wasn't that they were physically similar, though they were tall – Woody a little taller than Dylan — and had beautiful blue, expressive eyes. Dylan could be Woody's older brother. However, it was something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was maybe their sweet gaze, which could transform to a brave and determined stare.

"Dylan, you still have Erin. She needs you, don't risk yourself anymore," Jordan intervened. She hated to agree with Woody, but she recognized that he was just being reasonable.

Dylan glanced at her sadly, shoved his hands in his pants pockets and frowned, looking lost. "Right now, I'm no good. My daughter is in better hands with my sister. At least she can watch her and get notice if her mood changes. Protect her from drugs…" He swallowed hard and took a deep, painful breath. "I never knew when Tom… I have to understand what happened." He ended biting his lower lip so hard that a drop of blood slid from his teeth. He stomped toward the house door without saying goodbye.

Her eyes followed him, anxiously. "Wait!" she yelled at him. "I don't think you can drive. Let me go with you!" And she ran to catch up with him at the entrance.

"Don't worry, I can manage on my own," he rejected her.

Though she was really worried about him, she had an ulterior motive for tagging along with him. She didn't want to be alone with Woody after interrupting him with Lu earlier that night, and because she had left her car at the morgue and it was very late, Woody would be driving her home. That was something she would avoid at all costs. Dylan was her way out.

"Seriously, Dylan, let me drive your car. I can make sure you go straight to your home. Then, you can lend me your car so I can get to mine, and tomorrow morning, I can go to pick you up, so you can be at the precinct like Detective Hoyt said. Let me help you." She smiled warmly at him while she embraced his healthy arm, affectionately.

Dylan hung his head and let Jordan took him to his car. It was true. He would jump from the roof if she would ask him to…

Jordan turned her head to look at Woody while she walked along with Dylan, and smiled at him with that indifferent grin he didn't like on her. "I call you tomorrow."

Woody smiled her back confusedly, while he waved a weak goodbye to her.

He stood rooted to that spot, wondering what had just occurred. Jordan had left, almost ran away with that guy. He watched them walk away toward the car. He began to feel as though something had been lit in his stomach, coming up his body burning him, until it arrived at his brain and hit him forcefully, numbing him. He hated to admit it, but he knew all too well what was happening to him. He had felt it before.

Desperation, anger, jealousy…

Jordan had left with that guy and she seemed to be enjoying it!

Damn! He loved her!!!

Why couldn't she see it?!?

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