Untitled/ Thanksgiving part 8

4PM

I'm worried about my daughter.

Ever since Thanksgiving, she's been rather distant, and I haven't seen her come in the bar at all.

Something's not right...something's not right, and I'm going to find out what's what.

She wasn't at her apartment, 'Cause I checked. Probably still working at the morgue, driving Macy nuts. She has the ability to do that to people; I raised her, after all, and she gets that from me.

I suppose I probably shouldn't be too proud about that, after everything that happened to her mother and all. Being proud of literally driving someone into the funny farm isn't really something to brag about.

Entering the ME's office, I notice a flurry of activity which is unusual, even for this place. Something's definitely going on here, and I catch a glimpse of Macy coming out of Jordan's office.

"Hey Macy!" I yell, getting the Chief's attention. "You seen Jordan around? We need to talk."

"Last I knew she was still at my place. Why do you ask?"

WHAT?!?

"Your place?" I frown, putting on my best 'interrogation' face. "What's she doing there?"

"I thought she would've called you and told you what's going on."

"I haven't talked to her since that little incident she had with that psycho," I reply, glancing around. "She hasn't stopped by the bar or anything, and I've been meaning to talk with her. Why? What's going on?"

"Come into my office, and I'll fill you in," Macy replied, and I followed him in, plopping myself down in a chair before he could offer me a seat.

"So fill me in, Macy...what's going on?"

"I'm having Jordan see a shrink She's suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome."

"...I see."

"That's not all." He sat down behind his desk with a sigh. "Last night, or should I say this morning, Jordan called me. She was pretty shaken up by a message someone left on her answering machine."

"What message?"

"It said that he was going to finish what the 'Digger' started."

"Jesus Christ..."

"I didn't think she was safe at her apartment anymore, so I offered her a place to stay...and then earlier this afternoon Lily noticed a box on Jordan's desk."

"A box of...?"

"Not of...a woman's head was inside it, along with a note saying that he was looking forward to their first meeting."

"Son of a Bitch, Macy, why the hell didn't someone tell me all of this?"

"As I said before, I thought Jordan would've let you in on some of it already."

"No, she wouldn't have, Macy...she's stubborn as hell that way, you know that."

"I do," He agreed, "But you're her father. I know that you've helped her role-play some of the crimes she's solved, and talking about murder to a relative is usually a hell of a lot harder than just talking about personal problems."

"Ever since what happened, Jordan's been...distant from me. I haven't talked to her since it happened, other than talking to her on Thanksgiving. Not that I haven't wanted to, of course, but...I don't like prying into her business." I glance towards my daughters' office. "She doesn't know about it, does she?"

"Not yet. When I get out of here I'm going to talk to her about it."

"Well, you're gonna have to come to my place, cause she's coming home with me."

"Max-"

"Don't 'Max' me, Macy. She's my daughter, and she's going to stay with me until this whole thing's taken care of. End of story."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because I've been talking on and off with Detective Hoyt, and he seems to think that this guy's doing his homework."

"By that, you mean finding out personal info."

"Exactly. Hoyt thinks that if she went home and stayed with you and Evelyn, not only would that be the very first place this guy would look after he realizes that Jordan's no longer in her apartment, but it would also put your lives in danger as well."

"If Woody's correct, then we're already in danger," I replied, the infamous Cavanaugh temper beginning to rear it's ugly head. Shaking my head, I continued. "Fine then. She stays with you...but if anything happens to my daughter under your care Macy, it's coming down on your head." Pointing for emphasis on my last few words, I waited for him to nod before continuing. "Tell Woody to give me a call. We need to talk."

"No problem." I nodded again and got on the elevator, my face not betraying the seething rage I felt inside. How dare, HOW DARE someone go after my little girl! Woody and I would have to meet at my bar sometime soon to formulate a game plan for this jabroni, cause no way in hell was he even gonna get close to my daughter.