Coming out of her office, Jordan crashed into someone considerably taller than
she was. "Oh, hey man, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there." Then she actually looked at
the guy. "Agent Halley! How ya doing? Did you come for a social call or on a business
trip?"
"Business. There's a serial killer the FBI has been tracking for sometime. We
believe he's come to Boston. I wondered if there were any odd... guests coming into the
morgue."
Jordan looked up at him, a small smile on her face. He was kidding right?
Between the 'St. Francis' corpse, the lottery ticket body, completely leaving the deer out
of the picture, there were few cases that didn't make it into her files of the weird and
strange.
"No stranger than usual." Leading him into the crypt, she picked up the schedule
that had served them for the day. "Let's see, Bug and Niles handled the taxi collision
victim. Cause of Death: food poisoning. Garret is into the third Strangler victim."
"The Boston Strangler?" Halley interrupted.
"I know, it's weird. And today, I dissected the guy found behind the bowling
alley, covered in third degree burns. And guess what? No signs of fire in sight. Strange
enough for you?"
"None of those sound like the guy we're looking for. Oh well, thank you for your
time." Agent Halley turned and made his way to the elevators.
"Halley! What are you doing tonight?"
"I was heading back to my hotel room to work on the case."
"How long did you say you were in town?" Jordan grabbed her coat and her case
file; she had been ready to go anyway.
"I didn'-."
"Come on, let's go. My dad owns a pub on 5th street. Everybody heads there
after work. You know, cops, M.E.'s, etc. Come on. I promise. You can tell me what
you're really doing here.
"What? I already-." Halley finally gave up and fell silent.
Jordan smiled. "It's okay Mr. Federal Agent. If you stop lying, I won't tell
anybody." She added conspiratorially.
`````````
Jordan pushed Halley onto a stool that had been drawn up to the counter. "Hey
Dad! Two Samuel Adams."
"Hello Jordan." Max Cavanaugh moved over to them, towel over his shoulder.
"Aren't you going to introduce me?"
"Sure. Dad this is Agent Drew Halley. Halley, this is Max Cavanaugh." Jordan
took a sip of her beer.
"Owner of this humble establishment. Pleased to meet you." Max smiled and
extended his hand. "What brings you this far north?"
"I uh-." A group of officers newly off their shift trooped through the door.
"Excuse me a moment." Max moved on down the bar.
"So, what are you doing here?" Jordan asked pointedly.
"I really am looking for a fugitive. I-." Poor Halley was doomed never to finish
that thought as a scream echoed through the place.
she was. "Oh, hey man, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there." Then she actually looked at
the guy. "Agent Halley! How ya doing? Did you come for a social call or on a business
trip?"
"Business. There's a serial killer the FBI has been tracking for sometime. We
believe he's come to Boston. I wondered if there were any odd... guests coming into the
morgue."
Jordan looked up at him, a small smile on her face. He was kidding right?
Between the 'St. Francis' corpse, the lottery ticket body, completely leaving the deer out
of the picture, there were few cases that didn't make it into her files of the weird and
strange.
"No stranger than usual." Leading him into the crypt, she picked up the schedule
that had served them for the day. "Let's see, Bug and Niles handled the taxi collision
victim. Cause of Death: food poisoning. Garret is into the third Strangler victim."
"The Boston Strangler?" Halley interrupted.
"I know, it's weird. And today, I dissected the guy found behind the bowling
alley, covered in third degree burns. And guess what? No signs of fire in sight. Strange
enough for you?"
"None of those sound like the guy we're looking for. Oh well, thank you for your
time." Agent Halley turned and made his way to the elevators.
"Halley! What are you doing tonight?"
"I was heading back to my hotel room to work on the case."
"How long did you say you were in town?" Jordan grabbed her coat and her case
file; she had been ready to go anyway.
"I didn'-."
"Come on, let's go. My dad owns a pub on 5th street. Everybody heads there
after work. You know, cops, M.E.'s, etc. Come on. I promise. You can tell me what
you're really doing here.
"What? I already-." Halley finally gave up and fell silent.
Jordan smiled. "It's okay Mr. Federal Agent. If you stop lying, I won't tell
anybody." She added conspiratorially.
`````````
Jordan pushed Halley onto a stool that had been drawn up to the counter. "Hey
Dad! Two Samuel Adams."
"Hello Jordan." Max Cavanaugh moved over to them, towel over his shoulder.
"Aren't you going to introduce me?"
"Sure. Dad this is Agent Drew Halley. Halley, this is Max Cavanaugh." Jordan
took a sip of her beer.
"Owner of this humble establishment. Pleased to meet you." Max smiled and
extended his hand. "What brings you this far north?"
"I uh-." A group of officers newly off their shift trooped through the door.
"Excuse me a moment." Max moved on down the bar.
"So, what are you doing here?" Jordan asked pointedly.
"I really am looking for a fugitive. I-." Poor Halley was doomed never to finish
that thought as a scream echoed through the place.