Disclaimer: Song 'Crash and burn' by savage garden doesn't belong to
me, (like that's real original,) same with Concrete Angel by Martina
McBride. Sarah Thomas does belong to me though.
Jordan's POV
I feel bad, Woody hasn't seen me since I've been awake, I think he's mad at me, I don't blame him, I'd be mad at me too. Garret's come by to pick me up, I'm going home today, They still don't know the whole story with my father, I'd like to keep it that way, Garret, being all 'Big brother' on me, won't let me stay by myself. I swallow hard, there's a sick taste in my mouth, it wouldn't go away. I felt so weak, so tired, Garret's SUV pulled up, he smiled when he saw me, a look entered his eye, I smirked playfully at him to assure him everything was fine, he stepped out of his car, the sun glinting off of the black shiny paint, he helped me into the car, he was silent, not like a quiet silence, an eerie silence that seeps through to your bones.
"Why the long face stranger" he managed a smile, "I had three homicides, a believed serial killer, and Bug called in sick, same with Lily, some sort of a flu going around. "So much for a vacation, why don't I- ""No Jordan, you are going home and taking a nap, and resting." "but-" before I could say anything he turned on the radio, the song I heard was familiar, Concrete Angel, by Martina McBride.
'Someone cries in the middle of the night
Neighbor's hear but they turn out the light
a fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it'll be too late'
I didn't even realize I was crying until Garret put his free hand around my shoulder. "Why'd he leave?" he looked at me puzzled "Who, you're father?" his face looked so much like my father all of a suddenly. "No Gar, Woody."
Woody's POV
I tapped my fingers against the top of my desk; papers were strewn about, a two day old cup of coffee sat to my right,, sunlight skipped through the windows , I looked at a picture I kept at the end of my desk, though everything I had been though it had always lasted, a picture of me, Jordan, Garret, Nigel, Peter, Lily and finally a ever so somber Bug. I chuckled at this, then set it back down on it's front so the disappointment in their eyes never showed, I couldn't face that. "Hey, you detective Hoight?" someone asked from behind me. I turned to see a thin little woman, pale, flaxen hair, pink fingernails, I memorized her pink fingernails. "yeah" I said softly, she smiled warmly, "I'm Agent Thomas, call me Sarah." "You must be the agent they got for the serial killer?" "Yeah, that's me" her skirt was short, her hair down, her blouse dangerously low. She was the exact opposite of Jordan, it was almost laughable. "So you want to go see are Vic?" she laid a warm hand on my shoulder, the same way Jordan did, I shook it off casually, she looked apologetic. "Sorry detective if I was a bit forward." "oh, uh, yeah uh, don't worry about it, come on lets go see doctor Winslow."
"Well they were Brunette, late twenties to mid thirties, he always stabbed them seventeen times, exactly, overkill, and left them at the edge of the Charles river, no evidence of sexual assault ." Peter finished in a huff, he looked so tired, Nigel was silent in the corner, on the computer naturally, but unusually quiet. "Look here," Sarah said pointing to a bruise on the young girls wrists, "restraints" "maybe," Peter chimed, "maybe, they were three to four days old, so it happened a few days before she was killed." She looked horrified "He held them?" "Did we get an ID?" Nigel asked, he shot me a glare and I responded "Her name is Michelle Brownlee, thirty one, worked the nightshift at a local AMPM, she was last seen by her friend Carole Taylor leaving for home in her Brown Mazda, purse and car are missing." "Sweet Nancy" Nigel whispered under his breath, and walked out.
I fallowed as expected, he looked at me scornfully, his eyes were filled with contempt, he didn't even try to mask it. "Look Woodrow, it would be a good decision if you didn't fallow me right now." "What the hell is wrong with you?" "She's out of the hospital Woodrow, the entire time, she asked about you, where the hell were you?" "I... I can't see her like that," was all I could manage to whisper. He looked at me with something approaching pity now. "I know you and Jordan... Had something different, she doesn't trust that often, But she trusts you, you let her down Woodrow, call her, something, she needs you." He walked away before I could get in another word. I slammed my head into the door gently but firmly (didn't want a concussion) in frustration, Jordan was going to be the death of me.
Jordan's POV
I feel bad, Woody hasn't seen me since I've been awake, I think he's mad at me, I don't blame him, I'd be mad at me too. Garret's come by to pick me up, I'm going home today, They still don't know the whole story with my father, I'd like to keep it that way, Garret, being all 'Big brother' on me, won't let me stay by myself. I swallow hard, there's a sick taste in my mouth, it wouldn't go away. I felt so weak, so tired, Garret's SUV pulled up, he smiled when he saw me, a look entered his eye, I smirked playfully at him to assure him everything was fine, he stepped out of his car, the sun glinting off of the black shiny paint, he helped me into the car, he was silent, not like a quiet silence, an eerie silence that seeps through to your bones.
"Why the long face stranger" he managed a smile, "I had three homicides, a believed serial killer, and Bug called in sick, same with Lily, some sort of a flu going around. "So much for a vacation, why don't I- ""No Jordan, you are going home and taking a nap, and resting." "but-" before I could say anything he turned on the radio, the song I heard was familiar, Concrete Angel, by Martina McBride.
'Someone cries in the middle of the night
Neighbor's hear but they turn out the light
a fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it'll be too late'
I didn't even realize I was crying until Garret put his free hand around my shoulder. "Why'd he leave?" he looked at me puzzled "Who, you're father?" his face looked so much like my father all of a suddenly. "No Gar, Woody."
Woody's POV
I tapped my fingers against the top of my desk; papers were strewn about, a two day old cup of coffee sat to my right,, sunlight skipped through the windows , I looked at a picture I kept at the end of my desk, though everything I had been though it had always lasted, a picture of me, Jordan, Garret, Nigel, Peter, Lily and finally a ever so somber Bug. I chuckled at this, then set it back down on it's front so the disappointment in their eyes never showed, I couldn't face that. "Hey, you detective Hoight?" someone asked from behind me. I turned to see a thin little woman, pale, flaxen hair, pink fingernails, I memorized her pink fingernails. "yeah" I said softly, she smiled warmly, "I'm Agent Thomas, call me Sarah." "You must be the agent they got for the serial killer?" "Yeah, that's me" her skirt was short, her hair down, her blouse dangerously low. She was the exact opposite of Jordan, it was almost laughable. "So you want to go see are Vic?" she laid a warm hand on my shoulder, the same way Jordan did, I shook it off casually, she looked apologetic. "Sorry detective if I was a bit forward." "oh, uh, yeah uh, don't worry about it, come on lets go see doctor Winslow."
"Well they were Brunette, late twenties to mid thirties, he always stabbed them seventeen times, exactly, overkill, and left them at the edge of the Charles river, no evidence of sexual assault ." Peter finished in a huff, he looked so tired, Nigel was silent in the corner, on the computer naturally, but unusually quiet. "Look here," Sarah said pointing to a bruise on the young girls wrists, "restraints" "maybe," Peter chimed, "maybe, they were three to four days old, so it happened a few days before she was killed." She looked horrified "He held them?" "Did we get an ID?" Nigel asked, he shot me a glare and I responded "Her name is Michelle Brownlee, thirty one, worked the nightshift at a local AMPM, she was last seen by her friend Carole Taylor leaving for home in her Brown Mazda, purse and car are missing." "Sweet Nancy" Nigel whispered under his breath, and walked out.
I fallowed as expected, he looked at me scornfully, his eyes were filled with contempt, he didn't even try to mask it. "Look Woodrow, it would be a good decision if you didn't fallow me right now." "What the hell is wrong with you?" "She's out of the hospital Woodrow, the entire time, she asked about you, where the hell were you?" "I... I can't see her like that," was all I could manage to whisper. He looked at me with something approaching pity now. "I know you and Jordan... Had something different, she doesn't trust that often, But she trusts you, you let her down Woodrow, call her, something, she needs you." He walked away before I could get in another word. I slammed my head into the door gently but firmly (didn't want a concussion) in frustration, Jordan was going to be the death of me.