Title: They Tell Me Time Is Precious
Summary: A serial killer is on the loose in Boston. Jordan teams up with Drew Haley and Woody Hoyt.
"Jordan. Jordan. Get up. I mean it, get up," Dr. Macy said, pushing Jordan Cavanaugh. Jordan slept on her coach, once again, the night before.
She eventually got up, hair slightly tangled, and gave a snappy "What?" before going into the hall and pouring herself a cup of coffee. When she returned to her office Dr. Macy was sitting on the sofa. She sat behind her desk, ready to endure a long speech.
"We've got a case. Believe it or not the FEDs actually want your help on this one. It's a serial killer, or so they suspect," he told her.
"Goodie, who am I working with?" Jordan asked. She tried to look only mildly interested.
Dr. Macy smiled, "Detective Hoyt and the Profiler, Drew Haley."
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Woody Hoyt walked into Jordan's office soon after Macy left.
After the usual greeting of "Hey" Woody sat in the chair by her desk.
"So, you're working with the big guys now, are you?" he asked and gave her a smile that spread right up to his eyes, which sparkled as they looked at her. She was wearing a red shirt and black stretch pants. He was dressed in his usual: Black suit. "We're working with a big profiler, names Haley. I've never met him; he should show up soon though."
"Hey Woody, I've been thinking about the whole thing that happened in LA. I'd really like to-"but she was cut off by a knock on the door, and what she would like to do Woody could only guess, and maybe hope. They had shared a kiss (he liked to fancy that there were two kisses), but she had left it at that.
In walked a man, not dressed to differently than Woody. He wore a suit and looked tired. Then he saw Jordan and a smile spread over his stern looking face. He greeted Woody first, however.
After an introduction Haley sent Woody to get coffee for both of them. Woody grunted, but went.
"Jordan, how are you?" he asked.
"I thought it was only social calls you were to give me after The Digger incident?" she asked, but smiled and hugged him none-the-less.
"I didn't call first, as you might note," his eyes twinkled and he went on, "Aye, about social stuff: I'm sorry about last time. I've been thinking. Maybe we could do something, you know, just us. Get to know each other."
"You probably know me well enough, all that profiling isn't good for a person, you know," she said avoiding his statement.
He sighed.
Outside Woody looked in. He was fast with coffee. Lucky him he came back in time to see a tight hug being released. He felt hurt; the thought that maybe Jordan wanted something more with him had been an encouraging thought, and he had planned on flirting shamelessly with her. But it appeared that Jordan knew the Profiler and was pretty close with him. He couldn't hear anything inside, but it certainly looked like flirting inside, and Haley had sent him for coffee.
"I think we could have something," Haley said in the office. "I didn't mean to leave on those terms with you last time."
"I don't know, Haley, I need to think about this case right now. I'll get back to go," she replied. Now she felt confused. and also fully ready to avoid discussion on the matter.
Woody thought that Jordan was looking extremely beautiful leaning against her desk, and that Haley was standing a bit close to her. He chose just then to interrupt.
"Joe, Jordan," he muttered as he walked in. He thought it would be a "nice" gesture to bring her more coffee.
"Thanks. Bring creamer?" she asked.
"Yep," He tossed her two packets, the exact number that she used. She smiled and caught them. Haley's eyes flickered for a second.
"Coffee," he said sharply and shoved the cup into Haley's hand.
Haley did not show it, but he secretly guessed Jordan had a thing with this detective (only she wasn't going to tell him, which peeved him off).
"So, what do we have?" Jordan asked from behind her desk. Woody reclined on the sofa and Haley sat up straight in the chair before her desk. Both were cover in papers.
Woody started, in a proud voice. He was convinced that he would look better than Haley if he tried. "He calls himself the B.K.-" "Not for Burger King I guess?" Jordan asked, very innocently.
Woody smiled, "For Boston Killer. We've already established that he is imitating the Boston Strangler from the 1960's. We're checking up on everyone who has visited websites on the Boston Strangler many times. But he doesn't hold exactly to the killings. All of the women he has killed and beaten have been successful business women. B.K. has killed nine so far. Each one has matched the age (or likeness to the age) of each of the Boston Strangler's victims. He also left a New Year's greeting card in between the toes on the left foot of the second victim (with a signature of B.K. on it)."
Haley cut in now. "We can only suspect that the next woman will be in her mid 20's, or look about that. She may be slightly older; he's been tending towards the mid thirties. We have placed him as a man about 25-30 by some of the clues he's left. We have to remember that most serial killers want recognition for their work. He's going to start hitting even ore high profile women."
It was about to turn into a heated debate of who knew more.
"We're not sure why he targets who he does," Woody said.
"The Boston strangler was not a mother-hater, he targeted on the spur of the moment," Haley said in an impressive voice.
"Well, he could very well be targeting on attractiveness, we know that the Boston Strangler didn't, but that doesn't matter. All of these women could be called 'well preserved' or pretty in their own way. One was a model before she got into medicine."
"We have to find likenesses, not guess," Haley retorted.
Jordan chose to cut in, "SO, are all of the victims dead? And when do they get sent here?"
"One victim gave us a faint description before she died. How she survived we're not exactly sure. That's more your department. All of them were stabbed," Woody said quickly.
"She said, 'Around my age. Dark haired; probably 5' 8", white teeth.' We couldn't get anything else." He paused, "The bodies should be here already."
"What else can you make out about him?" Jordan asked. "It might help, even though we all know they're twisted people, serial killers. And they hit when they see someone, especially if they are threatened by that person."
"What?" Woody looked rather confused.
"That was The Digger, we can't assume anything about this one," he sighed. "I have to admit this one hits on impulse, too. But he doesn't target a particular likeness."
"He doesn't bury people alive, either?" Jordan raised her eyebrows.
"No, but something about you seems to do that to them, doesn't it?" answered Haley. Woody thought the Profiler was getting a bit intimate.
"Let's take a look at the bodies." Jordan offered.
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"The bodies all have stab wounds; same places, except for the seventh (which appears to have been done quickly, I guess she was the one that lived for a while?" A nod from Woody assured her of that. "Different knives for each one, though. Were the murder weapons found at the scene of the crimes?"
"No," both men replied.
"Well, I'm guessing that each knife was found in the victim's home. B.K. then put the knife in a bag and took it, as a souvenir. He probably has them hidden in his home," Jordan stated.
After a good deal more looking at the victims and coming to dead ends Woody offered that they go to Max's pub to talk over a few things.
As the three walked out of the building they were bombarded with cameras. The press knew who was handling the case already.
Jordan turned to the cameras and the young journalists made ready to write down anything she could tell them. Woody groaned, Jordan had once been accused of being gay by the press, he could not imagine what they'd think up this time. Plus, she was bound to say something rude and unneeded.
But she didn't. She simply stated, "Agent Haley and Hoyt and myself are working on this case. We wish to work in peace on it."
With that they strutted (it seemed) off to her SUV. Amazingly, the press didn't follow.
Jordan jumped in and Haley opened the passenger door.
Woody cleared his throat, "That is *my* seat," he said, and pushed past Haley. Haley was left to sit in the back.
Conversation (if there had been any) was drowned out in the car by the radio. When they arrived at the pub Haley held the door open for Jordan, and they passed through, so did Woody. A man that Haley thought he recognized as a part of the press also stepped through the open door.
They sat with Jordan in the middle. Max came up to serve them some, non- alcoholic, drinks. Woody said "Hey Max" and Jordan said "Hey Dad," but Haley merely nodded and mumbled "Max".
Haley soon excused him self and Jordan went to talk with an old friend who had been in her band. Woody was left sitting alone at the bar, watching Jordan.
Max followed his gaze. "Don't worry, Woody. Haley really isn't Jordan's type."
"I wouldn't be to sure; she seemed awfully friendly with him in the office this morning when I got sent off to get coffee. Coffee! Really." Woody now slouched in his seat.
"You'll get a chance, just make sure it's the right chance," Max told him. Soon after, Haley and then Jordan returned to their seats.
After they had eaten their sandwiches they started talking about the case.
"So no one heard anything when the victims were killed?" Jordan asked.
"Well, it appears that the attacks were silent. B.K. talked his way into the apartments (all of them are rather close to each other, near your building, actually). But a neighbor the fourth victim had a knock on her door, and heard a few minutes later a knock down the hall in the area of the victim's apartment. She saw a man with, quote, "a handsome smile and rather tall. Slinky build and gentle face." He said he was there to fix a leak that the people in the apartment below had complained about. She wouldn't let him in because her husband was asleep, but maybe another time." Woody explained.
"His mind tells him who's a good target, and who isn't. He beats them, and only beats them, then stabs them. But he doesn't want to hear them scream. Therefore he picks stronger women, who can fight, but nice enough looking that he gets something out of the attack. He follows them, and goes to their home. He hasn't yet picked someone up off the street, or in the halls of her apartment building, that we know of," Haley explained.
They discussion from then on was reviewing things that they already knew. Woody's cell phone rang suddenly. He answered it and looked pleased.
"There is a match, more or less; we should go down to my office."
*~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*
When they arrived and had been seated in his office they began pouring over the new paperwork set out for them.
A man by the name of Alex Dotchin had gone back to websites about the Boston Strangler over and over again in the past few years. He was 5' 9", had dark hair, and was a sales consultant. It was said he could sell anything. They tracked his computer to an apartment about 2 miles from the murder scenes. He had a family, and rarely left for more that two days at a time, before a year ago. His wife had reported abuse once, and had left him soon after, taking their daughter. Since then he worked late into the night, every night. Haley thought that his office area made him feel safe, surrounded by trusting people. That was his one shelter. One of his co- workers, a successful woman by all means, claimed to have been threatened by him once when he dropped her off at her apartment door. She would not let him in.
Haley went off to pester the judge about a search warrant, and they would go the next morning to the apartment, it was decided. Or so it seemed. Jordan stayed in Woody's office. She couldn't help it.
She said, "We have to go there tonight. I know we have to."
"Jordan, you know we can't. I've sneaked around with you before, the officials were not happy."
"Fine," and with that she walked out; with the papers on Dotchin.
Jordan walked up to the door at apartment C-44. What was she doing? What if he was there? But he didn't seem to be so she jiggled the door knob. She couldn't believe it, who leaves their doors unlocked in the middle of Boston?
She stepped into the apartment, heart pounding. She tip-toed through the living room and into the kitchen, where she opened a drawer and grabbed a knife; she needed something to protect herself with, just in case. The steady drip of water from an unseen pipe could be heard, and was slightly creepy. She heard a faint creak; she figured that she was standing on a loose floorboard. But the dim click that followed could not be dismissed; it had come from the living room. Jordan stooped low behind the counter, which was in the middle of the kitchen. A man's shoes appeared in her view.
There was nothing for it, she had no other choice; Jordan stood up quickly and swung the knife forward quick and hard. Her target, however, was to fast and ducked to the side.
"Trying to kill me, Jordan?!" Woody yell-whispered.
"Sorry, I thought you were Dotchin," she replied, lowering the knife.
"Yeah, well that would be a good assumption, especially because we're in his apartment!"
"I thought you said that it you didn't want to come?" she said, watching his every movement. He flinched, jus slightly. A tense moment passed.
"I couldn't let you come alone," another minute passed, "You know, that pipe is really annoying. I'm going to have a look at it." Woody told her and went over to the sink, where he made to lie on his back, and opened the cabinet doors."
"We're here, and all you can think about is the pipes?" she whispered. They were indeed so quiet that no one within a few feet could hear them.
"Woah, he has a problem." Woody said while he was examining the pipes. "The top of this cabinet it cracked almost all the way around."
A light suddenly clicked on in Jordan's eyes. She went over to where Woody was on his back, said "Let me see that, watch out," and bent over him. He blushed slightly, but she didn't see him.
Jordan pushed up on the top of the cabinet, and when it came down it kept going, but she held it firmly, and put her hand in from. There was something in there.
"Shit!" she whispered. "There're knives in there." She pushed it back up and it stayed shut, she recoiled her hand. ".and that isn't my blood."
"Jordan," Woody whispered, as she straightened and he got up, "We have got to leave, we're in the house of a murderer!"
"No, I think we could have a look around first."
"A look around?"
He did, however follow her into the living room and start to investigate a bit.
She was looking through some work files, and he was looking behind a sofa when there was a split of wood, then a thud. A man had flung himself out of a hiding place and hit Woody atop the head with something heavy. Woody fell down hard. The man now came towards Jordan. She held the knife up.
"Don't you come near us," she said in a deadly voice. "We'll leave and you won't follow us."
"I think not," the man said in a threatening, but would-be gentle voice.
"I am not afraid to stab you," she said, and her eyes did not leave his face.
Then the man was knocked forward. Woody lay on top, and Jordan helped him up quickly with her left hand. She pushed Woody out the door and followed him, knife in hand, watching the door of the residence as she left.
Once outside she helped Woody into her SUV and got in. He was bleeding, but what he had been hit with she couldn't tell.
"I'm taking you back to my apartment," she told him.
"No, he'll be following us, I don't want him to know where you live," Woody said, but he could not argue anymore, because he went unconscious. She lowered him out of the vehicle and held him up with one of his arms over her shoulders and took him up to her apartment. She could feel his strong arm firmly around her, even though he was only semi-conscious. She felt like she wanted that weight to last, but she had to help him. Jordan laid him on the sofa, locked her doors and windows, closed the blinds, and went to get some ice and a long bandage to wrap his head in.
She was nursing her head when the creepiness of being watched came over her. She could feel eyes, and she wasn't sure if they were really there or not, but she looked around frantically.
Somewhere in this time she realized it: Dotchin had been part of the press. She had been singled out when he heard Jordan was working on the case, it wasn't all coincidence.
Jordan looked down at the man that had helped her through so many tasks. She could not give up on him now, not because she had heard the quote that "If you wait to long it'll be gone". She wasn't sure, but it seemed like now what he had felt for her was gone because she couldn't return it at that time. But that was nearly 4 months ago.
"Wake up, Woody, please wake up," she whispered, leaning close to his face.
"I am awake, and I told you not to come back here," Woody said, opening his eyes and looking up at her.
"What else could I do, you were bleeding on my car seat!" Jordan said, putting her hard exterior back on. A minute or two passed.
"I wish you would let people who know you well enough see that you have a soft side." He whispered to her.
"And you know me well enough?" She sighed, "I know, it's just a habit and I can't do anything about it."
"I could help you," he said leaning forward.
"I know," she whispered breathlessly. Then she hugged him. She knew that more than anything it would be bliss to kiss him again, but how could she? She had just gotten him a head wound, and there was Haley. She knew that she didn't want him, but he was still here, and she could confirm his suspicions.
Woody held her tightly. His strong body was against hers, but it was obvious he had wanted more than a hug. The words of Max came back to him now, "You'll get a chance, and just make sure it's the right chance." This seemed to be the right time, now or she would have to make a move after this. He pulled back.
"Jordan, I honestly, truly, and deeply-"but he didn't get farther than that, and her face didn't show anything. Her cell phone was ringing.
She answered. Her mouth dropped. She dropped the phone. Woody picked it up. He hung up the phone, it dropped again.
The man on the other end had whispered viciously to Jordan "I'll get you. I'm coming and you can not hide. I know all about you, now." To Woody he said, "Your love for her runs far too deep. I'll be around, and you'll get yours." He was outside somewhere- they could hear the rain pounding through the phone.
Woody reached for her hand and held it tightly. The walls had dropped, and she seemed terrified. Jordan simply fell forward into Woody's arms and he held her there.
Woody picked up her cell phone and dialed a number to the hotel phone of Agent Haley.
There was an answer and a groaned of "What time is it."
"Haley! Get up!" Woody whispered. "I need you to get over to Jordan's apartment quick. Bring a squad. This guy is smart."
"What are you talking about?" muttered Haley through a yawn.
"Dotchin is after her. Come quick. Wake Macy up and get her address from him. Hurry," rushed Woody.
"Is she alright?" asked a shocked Haley. But there was no reply. Woody had hung up.
"Jordan, Jordan, we need to get back into a remote part of the apartment and turn off all the phones." She nodded against him.
He hugged her tightly to him and pulled her up. She didn't resist and they left the living room, he walked down the hallway and into her bedroom. He let her fall on the bed and he sat by her. He stroked her hair for a long time, until she got up and sat in his lap with her arms around him. Woody was taken by surprise, and let her be for awhile. Then he held her, and they stayed that way for a long time. He felt drowsy suddenly, and he and Jordan dropped back onto the bed.
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When Haley and his team got to the apartment (along with Macy, who insisted on coming) they had to break the door down to get in. There was no answer inside. They found the window on the fire escape open and on the sill was a note.
"Their bodies will lie there forever. You will not find them."
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Jordan roused, and found the Woody was already awake. She started to panic immediately. They were in a tight, wooden space, and were defiantly not in her bedroom anymore.
"Jordan, stay still. Boston Killer took us. I guess he used stun gas on us, now I'm not sure where we are, but out of that crack I can see him, and it looks like he's preparing torture devices!"
"Thanks for comforting me, Woody." She looked up. He wasn't too much taller than her, and she could see into his eyes by just looking up a little bit.
She placed all her fear into the man on the other side of the walls, and it gave her courage in an odd way. She felt she could stand up to anything. But more that anything else, she felt safe standing their close to Woody. She leaned up and kissed him deeply.
Woody felt Jordan's lips on his, this time he hadn't made the move, she had. Relaxed and calm, yet deep and urgent her kisses engulfed him. He didn't think about the man outside, just Jordan, who was standing there, in front of him.
They stopped. Now was the time to get out of their mess. But there didn't seem to be anything to do. There was nothing to say to get him to take pity. They had to wait, and hope for someone to come and save them. It was not an encouraging thought. *~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*
Macy approached Haley. "So, where would this guy put them?"
"I'm not entirely sure." He paused a moment, and as if he were searching through his memory for some thing and had found it, he said "In his office building. It's only a few streets down and will be easy to get into, we can get in."
So they left, the whole squad. After a few phone calls they got into the building. There were fresh tracks, muddy. It appeared that he had wheeled something, and that was he got two bodies up stairs. Until he got to the attic, where it appeared (as they were on the top floor) he had drug the bodies up the stairs one and then another. Were the bodies already dead, to be dragged up like that? That is what Haley and Macy feared.
Haley had men posted at the exits of the building, the exits on that floor, and at the bottom of the stairs to the attic (and at the top). Haley, Macy, and a smaller squad entered the attic. Apparently the killer had not heard anything, until the entry of Haley. There could be seen a small electric blue in the distance. An electric sapper. they supposed B.K. had intended to have fun.
The man across the room dropped whatever he was holding, however, and seemed to flee. Men turned on the attic lights. The Boston Killer did not appear to be anywhere.
Jordan looked out of their cage. There was a light on, and men in FBI suits were swarming. She tapped Woody in the stomach. When they had both realized what was going on outside they yelled in unison, "Help!"
Heads turned their way but went on.
"Help us, please help us!" they yelled.
Now men were coming their way.
"Please! We're at the end of the attic by the electric shocker!" Jordan screamed.
"No quite that loud, please," Woody told her and gave her a smile. They were rescued, beyond hope. He looked back up.
Macy stepped forward by the buzzer (which had been turned off). "Where are you?"
"We're in the wall. Feel all of this far wall, there will be a crack, and we'll tell you when your there," Woody replied.
Haley stepped forward, pawing at the wall he came towards them. They told him to stop when he was right before the opening.
Haley looked in. He called some men over and had them cut the wires (because there were wires- explosives- which he had expected but the others had not). Then they lifted out the panels and there they were. Jordan was pressed firmly against Woody, and the obvious dislike of this shown all over Haley's face.
They stepped out and Jordan was immediately taken in an embrace by Macy.
Woody, Jordan, Macy, and Haley exited the attic, they came all the way to the front exit and there, stand in front of them, was the subdued Boston Killer.
"We caught him coming out of an exit in the wall. Apparently he had his own little escape root. A stairwell in the wall, from the attic to the ground floor. But we caught him," One of Haley's men told them.
Haley gave the call to clear out. They went back to Woody's office. There the whole story was spilled out (except anything personal between Woody and Jordan). The knives were gathered up and all the evidence was there to convict Alex Dotchin of being the Boston Killer.
Haley clearly didn't approve, but when he left he told Jordan only that she was brave, and their next meeting would be better. hopefully.
*~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~* *~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~* *~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~* *~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~* [A/N] What did everyone think? I wanted to write something quickly (this wasn't too quick, but I should have spent so much more time on it and gotten everything done) and have it be good, too. I want to go farther with this, but I'll have to see some reviews of it. If you go to my profile at all, keep in mind that I don't publish stories that I take a long time on, and master, on fanfiction.net. Well, it's 2 in the morning and I have school, so I hope you enjoyed reading this!
Summary: A serial killer is on the loose in Boston. Jordan teams up with Drew Haley and Woody Hoyt.
"Jordan. Jordan. Get up. I mean it, get up," Dr. Macy said, pushing Jordan Cavanaugh. Jordan slept on her coach, once again, the night before.
She eventually got up, hair slightly tangled, and gave a snappy "What?" before going into the hall and pouring herself a cup of coffee. When she returned to her office Dr. Macy was sitting on the sofa. She sat behind her desk, ready to endure a long speech.
"We've got a case. Believe it or not the FEDs actually want your help on this one. It's a serial killer, or so they suspect," he told her.
"Goodie, who am I working with?" Jordan asked. She tried to look only mildly interested.
Dr. Macy smiled, "Detective Hoyt and the Profiler, Drew Haley."
*~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*
Woody Hoyt walked into Jordan's office soon after Macy left.
After the usual greeting of "Hey" Woody sat in the chair by her desk.
"So, you're working with the big guys now, are you?" he asked and gave her a smile that spread right up to his eyes, which sparkled as they looked at her. She was wearing a red shirt and black stretch pants. He was dressed in his usual: Black suit. "We're working with a big profiler, names Haley. I've never met him; he should show up soon though."
"Hey Woody, I've been thinking about the whole thing that happened in LA. I'd really like to-"but she was cut off by a knock on the door, and what she would like to do Woody could only guess, and maybe hope. They had shared a kiss (he liked to fancy that there were two kisses), but she had left it at that.
In walked a man, not dressed to differently than Woody. He wore a suit and looked tired. Then he saw Jordan and a smile spread over his stern looking face. He greeted Woody first, however.
After an introduction Haley sent Woody to get coffee for both of them. Woody grunted, but went.
"Jordan, how are you?" he asked.
"I thought it was only social calls you were to give me after The Digger incident?" she asked, but smiled and hugged him none-the-less.
"I didn't call first, as you might note," his eyes twinkled and he went on, "Aye, about social stuff: I'm sorry about last time. I've been thinking. Maybe we could do something, you know, just us. Get to know each other."
"You probably know me well enough, all that profiling isn't good for a person, you know," she said avoiding his statement.
He sighed.
Outside Woody looked in. He was fast with coffee. Lucky him he came back in time to see a tight hug being released. He felt hurt; the thought that maybe Jordan wanted something more with him had been an encouraging thought, and he had planned on flirting shamelessly with her. But it appeared that Jordan knew the Profiler and was pretty close with him. He couldn't hear anything inside, but it certainly looked like flirting inside, and Haley had sent him for coffee.
"I think we could have something," Haley said in the office. "I didn't mean to leave on those terms with you last time."
"I don't know, Haley, I need to think about this case right now. I'll get back to go," she replied. Now she felt confused. and also fully ready to avoid discussion on the matter.
Woody thought that Jordan was looking extremely beautiful leaning against her desk, and that Haley was standing a bit close to her. He chose just then to interrupt.
"Joe, Jordan," he muttered as he walked in. He thought it would be a "nice" gesture to bring her more coffee.
"Thanks. Bring creamer?" she asked.
"Yep," He tossed her two packets, the exact number that she used. She smiled and caught them. Haley's eyes flickered for a second.
"Coffee," he said sharply and shoved the cup into Haley's hand.
Haley did not show it, but he secretly guessed Jordan had a thing with this detective (only she wasn't going to tell him, which peeved him off).
"So, what do we have?" Jordan asked from behind her desk. Woody reclined on the sofa and Haley sat up straight in the chair before her desk. Both were cover in papers.
Woody started, in a proud voice. He was convinced that he would look better than Haley if he tried. "He calls himself the B.K.-" "Not for Burger King I guess?" Jordan asked, very innocently.
Woody smiled, "For Boston Killer. We've already established that he is imitating the Boston Strangler from the 1960's. We're checking up on everyone who has visited websites on the Boston Strangler many times. But he doesn't hold exactly to the killings. All of the women he has killed and beaten have been successful business women. B.K. has killed nine so far. Each one has matched the age (or likeness to the age) of each of the Boston Strangler's victims. He also left a New Year's greeting card in between the toes on the left foot of the second victim (with a signature of B.K. on it)."
Haley cut in now. "We can only suspect that the next woman will be in her mid 20's, or look about that. She may be slightly older; he's been tending towards the mid thirties. We have placed him as a man about 25-30 by some of the clues he's left. We have to remember that most serial killers want recognition for their work. He's going to start hitting even ore high profile women."
It was about to turn into a heated debate of who knew more.
"We're not sure why he targets who he does," Woody said.
"The Boston strangler was not a mother-hater, he targeted on the spur of the moment," Haley said in an impressive voice.
"Well, he could very well be targeting on attractiveness, we know that the Boston Strangler didn't, but that doesn't matter. All of these women could be called 'well preserved' or pretty in their own way. One was a model before she got into medicine."
"We have to find likenesses, not guess," Haley retorted.
Jordan chose to cut in, "SO, are all of the victims dead? And when do they get sent here?"
"One victim gave us a faint description before she died. How she survived we're not exactly sure. That's more your department. All of them were stabbed," Woody said quickly.
"She said, 'Around my age. Dark haired; probably 5' 8", white teeth.' We couldn't get anything else." He paused, "The bodies should be here already."
"What else can you make out about him?" Jordan asked. "It might help, even though we all know they're twisted people, serial killers. And they hit when they see someone, especially if they are threatened by that person."
"What?" Woody looked rather confused.
"That was The Digger, we can't assume anything about this one," he sighed. "I have to admit this one hits on impulse, too. But he doesn't target a particular likeness."
"He doesn't bury people alive, either?" Jordan raised her eyebrows.
"No, but something about you seems to do that to them, doesn't it?" answered Haley. Woody thought the Profiler was getting a bit intimate.
"Let's take a look at the bodies." Jordan offered.
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"The bodies all have stab wounds; same places, except for the seventh (which appears to have been done quickly, I guess she was the one that lived for a while?" A nod from Woody assured her of that. "Different knives for each one, though. Were the murder weapons found at the scene of the crimes?"
"No," both men replied.
"Well, I'm guessing that each knife was found in the victim's home. B.K. then put the knife in a bag and took it, as a souvenir. He probably has them hidden in his home," Jordan stated.
After a good deal more looking at the victims and coming to dead ends Woody offered that they go to Max's pub to talk over a few things.
As the three walked out of the building they were bombarded with cameras. The press knew who was handling the case already.
Jordan turned to the cameras and the young journalists made ready to write down anything she could tell them. Woody groaned, Jordan had once been accused of being gay by the press, he could not imagine what they'd think up this time. Plus, she was bound to say something rude and unneeded.
But she didn't. She simply stated, "Agent Haley and Hoyt and myself are working on this case. We wish to work in peace on it."
With that they strutted (it seemed) off to her SUV. Amazingly, the press didn't follow.
Jordan jumped in and Haley opened the passenger door.
Woody cleared his throat, "That is *my* seat," he said, and pushed past Haley. Haley was left to sit in the back.
Conversation (if there had been any) was drowned out in the car by the radio. When they arrived at the pub Haley held the door open for Jordan, and they passed through, so did Woody. A man that Haley thought he recognized as a part of the press also stepped through the open door.
They sat with Jordan in the middle. Max came up to serve them some, non- alcoholic, drinks. Woody said "Hey Max" and Jordan said "Hey Dad," but Haley merely nodded and mumbled "Max".
Haley soon excused him self and Jordan went to talk with an old friend who had been in her band. Woody was left sitting alone at the bar, watching Jordan.
Max followed his gaze. "Don't worry, Woody. Haley really isn't Jordan's type."
"I wouldn't be to sure; she seemed awfully friendly with him in the office this morning when I got sent off to get coffee. Coffee! Really." Woody now slouched in his seat.
"You'll get a chance, just make sure it's the right chance," Max told him. Soon after, Haley and then Jordan returned to their seats.
After they had eaten their sandwiches they started talking about the case.
"So no one heard anything when the victims were killed?" Jordan asked.
"Well, it appears that the attacks were silent. B.K. talked his way into the apartments (all of them are rather close to each other, near your building, actually). But a neighbor the fourth victim had a knock on her door, and heard a few minutes later a knock down the hall in the area of the victim's apartment. She saw a man with, quote, "a handsome smile and rather tall. Slinky build and gentle face." He said he was there to fix a leak that the people in the apartment below had complained about. She wouldn't let him in because her husband was asleep, but maybe another time." Woody explained.
"His mind tells him who's a good target, and who isn't. He beats them, and only beats them, then stabs them. But he doesn't want to hear them scream. Therefore he picks stronger women, who can fight, but nice enough looking that he gets something out of the attack. He follows them, and goes to their home. He hasn't yet picked someone up off the street, or in the halls of her apartment building, that we know of," Haley explained.
They discussion from then on was reviewing things that they already knew. Woody's cell phone rang suddenly. He answered it and looked pleased.
"There is a match, more or less; we should go down to my office."
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When they arrived and had been seated in his office they began pouring over the new paperwork set out for them.
A man by the name of Alex Dotchin had gone back to websites about the Boston Strangler over and over again in the past few years. He was 5' 9", had dark hair, and was a sales consultant. It was said he could sell anything. They tracked his computer to an apartment about 2 miles from the murder scenes. He had a family, and rarely left for more that two days at a time, before a year ago. His wife had reported abuse once, and had left him soon after, taking their daughter. Since then he worked late into the night, every night. Haley thought that his office area made him feel safe, surrounded by trusting people. That was his one shelter. One of his co- workers, a successful woman by all means, claimed to have been threatened by him once when he dropped her off at her apartment door. She would not let him in.
Haley went off to pester the judge about a search warrant, and they would go the next morning to the apartment, it was decided. Or so it seemed. Jordan stayed in Woody's office. She couldn't help it.
She said, "We have to go there tonight. I know we have to."
"Jordan, you know we can't. I've sneaked around with you before, the officials were not happy."
"Fine," and with that she walked out; with the papers on Dotchin.
Jordan walked up to the door at apartment C-44. What was she doing? What if he was there? But he didn't seem to be so she jiggled the door knob. She couldn't believe it, who leaves their doors unlocked in the middle of Boston?
She stepped into the apartment, heart pounding. She tip-toed through the living room and into the kitchen, where she opened a drawer and grabbed a knife; she needed something to protect herself with, just in case. The steady drip of water from an unseen pipe could be heard, and was slightly creepy. She heard a faint creak; she figured that she was standing on a loose floorboard. But the dim click that followed could not be dismissed; it had come from the living room. Jordan stooped low behind the counter, which was in the middle of the kitchen. A man's shoes appeared in her view.
There was nothing for it, she had no other choice; Jordan stood up quickly and swung the knife forward quick and hard. Her target, however, was to fast and ducked to the side.
"Trying to kill me, Jordan?!" Woody yell-whispered.
"Sorry, I thought you were Dotchin," she replied, lowering the knife.
"Yeah, well that would be a good assumption, especially because we're in his apartment!"
"I thought you said that it you didn't want to come?" she said, watching his every movement. He flinched, jus slightly. A tense moment passed.
"I couldn't let you come alone," another minute passed, "You know, that pipe is really annoying. I'm going to have a look at it." Woody told her and went over to the sink, where he made to lie on his back, and opened the cabinet doors."
"We're here, and all you can think about is the pipes?" she whispered. They were indeed so quiet that no one within a few feet could hear them.
"Woah, he has a problem." Woody said while he was examining the pipes. "The top of this cabinet it cracked almost all the way around."
A light suddenly clicked on in Jordan's eyes. She went over to where Woody was on his back, said "Let me see that, watch out," and bent over him. He blushed slightly, but she didn't see him.
Jordan pushed up on the top of the cabinet, and when it came down it kept going, but she held it firmly, and put her hand in from. There was something in there.
"Shit!" she whispered. "There're knives in there." She pushed it back up and it stayed shut, she recoiled her hand. ".and that isn't my blood."
"Jordan," Woody whispered, as she straightened and he got up, "We have got to leave, we're in the house of a murderer!"
"No, I think we could have a look around first."
"A look around?"
He did, however follow her into the living room and start to investigate a bit.
She was looking through some work files, and he was looking behind a sofa when there was a split of wood, then a thud. A man had flung himself out of a hiding place and hit Woody atop the head with something heavy. Woody fell down hard. The man now came towards Jordan. She held the knife up.
"Don't you come near us," she said in a deadly voice. "We'll leave and you won't follow us."
"I think not," the man said in a threatening, but would-be gentle voice.
"I am not afraid to stab you," she said, and her eyes did not leave his face.
Then the man was knocked forward. Woody lay on top, and Jordan helped him up quickly with her left hand. She pushed Woody out the door and followed him, knife in hand, watching the door of the residence as she left.
Once outside she helped Woody into her SUV and got in. He was bleeding, but what he had been hit with she couldn't tell.
"I'm taking you back to my apartment," she told him.
"No, he'll be following us, I don't want him to know where you live," Woody said, but he could not argue anymore, because he went unconscious. She lowered him out of the vehicle and held him up with one of his arms over her shoulders and took him up to her apartment. She could feel his strong arm firmly around her, even though he was only semi-conscious. She felt like she wanted that weight to last, but she had to help him. Jordan laid him on the sofa, locked her doors and windows, closed the blinds, and went to get some ice and a long bandage to wrap his head in.
She was nursing her head when the creepiness of being watched came over her. She could feel eyes, and she wasn't sure if they were really there or not, but she looked around frantically.
Somewhere in this time she realized it: Dotchin had been part of the press. She had been singled out when he heard Jordan was working on the case, it wasn't all coincidence.
Jordan looked down at the man that had helped her through so many tasks. She could not give up on him now, not because she had heard the quote that "If you wait to long it'll be gone". She wasn't sure, but it seemed like now what he had felt for her was gone because she couldn't return it at that time. But that was nearly 4 months ago.
"Wake up, Woody, please wake up," she whispered, leaning close to his face.
"I am awake, and I told you not to come back here," Woody said, opening his eyes and looking up at her.
"What else could I do, you were bleeding on my car seat!" Jordan said, putting her hard exterior back on. A minute or two passed.
"I wish you would let people who know you well enough see that you have a soft side." He whispered to her.
"And you know me well enough?" She sighed, "I know, it's just a habit and I can't do anything about it."
"I could help you," he said leaning forward.
"I know," she whispered breathlessly. Then she hugged him. She knew that more than anything it would be bliss to kiss him again, but how could she? She had just gotten him a head wound, and there was Haley. She knew that she didn't want him, but he was still here, and she could confirm his suspicions.
Woody held her tightly. His strong body was against hers, but it was obvious he had wanted more than a hug. The words of Max came back to him now, "You'll get a chance, and just make sure it's the right chance." This seemed to be the right time, now or she would have to make a move after this. He pulled back.
"Jordan, I honestly, truly, and deeply-"but he didn't get farther than that, and her face didn't show anything. Her cell phone was ringing.
She answered. Her mouth dropped. She dropped the phone. Woody picked it up. He hung up the phone, it dropped again.
The man on the other end had whispered viciously to Jordan "I'll get you. I'm coming and you can not hide. I know all about you, now." To Woody he said, "Your love for her runs far too deep. I'll be around, and you'll get yours." He was outside somewhere- they could hear the rain pounding through the phone.
Woody reached for her hand and held it tightly. The walls had dropped, and she seemed terrified. Jordan simply fell forward into Woody's arms and he held her there.
Woody picked up her cell phone and dialed a number to the hotel phone of Agent Haley.
There was an answer and a groaned of "What time is it."
"Haley! Get up!" Woody whispered. "I need you to get over to Jordan's apartment quick. Bring a squad. This guy is smart."
"What are you talking about?" muttered Haley through a yawn.
"Dotchin is after her. Come quick. Wake Macy up and get her address from him. Hurry," rushed Woody.
"Is she alright?" asked a shocked Haley. But there was no reply. Woody had hung up.
"Jordan, Jordan, we need to get back into a remote part of the apartment and turn off all the phones." She nodded against him.
He hugged her tightly to him and pulled her up. She didn't resist and they left the living room, he walked down the hallway and into her bedroom. He let her fall on the bed and he sat by her. He stroked her hair for a long time, until she got up and sat in his lap with her arms around him. Woody was taken by surprise, and let her be for awhile. Then he held her, and they stayed that way for a long time. He felt drowsy suddenly, and he and Jordan dropped back onto the bed.
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When Haley and his team got to the apartment (along with Macy, who insisted on coming) they had to break the door down to get in. There was no answer inside. They found the window on the fire escape open and on the sill was a note.
"Their bodies will lie there forever. You will not find them."
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Jordan roused, and found the Woody was already awake. She started to panic immediately. They were in a tight, wooden space, and were defiantly not in her bedroom anymore.
"Jordan, stay still. Boston Killer took us. I guess he used stun gas on us, now I'm not sure where we are, but out of that crack I can see him, and it looks like he's preparing torture devices!"
"Thanks for comforting me, Woody." She looked up. He wasn't too much taller than her, and she could see into his eyes by just looking up a little bit.
She placed all her fear into the man on the other side of the walls, and it gave her courage in an odd way. She felt she could stand up to anything. But more that anything else, she felt safe standing their close to Woody. She leaned up and kissed him deeply.
Woody felt Jordan's lips on his, this time he hadn't made the move, she had. Relaxed and calm, yet deep and urgent her kisses engulfed him. He didn't think about the man outside, just Jordan, who was standing there, in front of him.
They stopped. Now was the time to get out of their mess. But there didn't seem to be anything to do. There was nothing to say to get him to take pity. They had to wait, and hope for someone to come and save them. It was not an encouraging thought. *~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*
Macy approached Haley. "So, where would this guy put them?"
"I'm not entirely sure." He paused a moment, and as if he were searching through his memory for some thing and had found it, he said "In his office building. It's only a few streets down and will be easy to get into, we can get in."
So they left, the whole squad. After a few phone calls they got into the building. There were fresh tracks, muddy. It appeared that he had wheeled something, and that was he got two bodies up stairs. Until he got to the attic, where it appeared (as they were on the top floor) he had drug the bodies up the stairs one and then another. Were the bodies already dead, to be dragged up like that? That is what Haley and Macy feared.
Haley had men posted at the exits of the building, the exits on that floor, and at the bottom of the stairs to the attic (and at the top). Haley, Macy, and a smaller squad entered the attic. Apparently the killer had not heard anything, until the entry of Haley. There could be seen a small electric blue in the distance. An electric sapper. they supposed B.K. had intended to have fun.
The man across the room dropped whatever he was holding, however, and seemed to flee. Men turned on the attic lights. The Boston Killer did not appear to be anywhere.
Jordan looked out of their cage. There was a light on, and men in FBI suits were swarming. She tapped Woody in the stomach. When they had both realized what was going on outside they yelled in unison, "Help!"
Heads turned their way but went on.
"Help us, please help us!" they yelled.
Now men were coming their way.
"Please! We're at the end of the attic by the electric shocker!" Jordan screamed.
"No quite that loud, please," Woody told her and gave her a smile. They were rescued, beyond hope. He looked back up.
Macy stepped forward by the buzzer (which had been turned off). "Where are you?"
"We're in the wall. Feel all of this far wall, there will be a crack, and we'll tell you when your there," Woody replied.
Haley stepped forward, pawing at the wall he came towards them. They told him to stop when he was right before the opening.
Haley looked in. He called some men over and had them cut the wires (because there were wires- explosives- which he had expected but the others had not). Then they lifted out the panels and there they were. Jordan was pressed firmly against Woody, and the obvious dislike of this shown all over Haley's face.
They stepped out and Jordan was immediately taken in an embrace by Macy.
Woody, Jordan, Macy, and Haley exited the attic, they came all the way to the front exit and there, stand in front of them, was the subdued Boston Killer.
"We caught him coming out of an exit in the wall. Apparently he had his own little escape root. A stairwell in the wall, from the attic to the ground floor. But we caught him," One of Haley's men told them.
Haley gave the call to clear out. They went back to Woody's office. There the whole story was spilled out (except anything personal between Woody and Jordan). The knives were gathered up and all the evidence was there to convict Alex Dotchin of being the Boston Killer.
Haley clearly didn't approve, but when he left he told Jordan only that she was brave, and their next meeting would be better. hopefully.
*~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~* *~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~* *~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~* *~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~* [A/N] What did everyone think? I wanted to write something quickly (this wasn't too quick, but I should have spent so much more time on it and gotten everything done) and have it be good, too. I want to go farther with this, but I'll have to see some reviews of it. If you go to my profile at all, keep in mind that I don't publish stories that I take a long time on, and master, on fanfiction.net. Well, it's 2 in the morning and I have school, so I hope you enjoyed reading this!