Peter's POV
It had to be six o'clock in the morning when I first saw Woody today; he looked tired, drawn, and weak. I was doing an autopsy on the Jane doe they found in the ally, he got his report and left before I had a chance to ask him what was wrong, although I had a feeling it had something to do with Jordan, with him, it was always about Jordan. Then Jordan came bursting threw the double doors, she was wearing Jeans and a Black T-shirt, her hair was straight and pulled into a tight ponytail. "Hey Peter have you seen Woody?" she asked with a trace of longing in her voice. "Saw him this morning, got his report and left." She nodded her head grimly and left. "You're welcome!" I shouted at the swinging double doors which was the only remnants that she had ever even been in the crypt.
Jordan's POV
Grey clouds signaled rain, everything seemed moist and cold, I pulled my jacket up around my chin as I walked along the cracked sidewalk, the tree's swayed in the cool breeze, creating a whispering noise. I wasn't sure where I was walking, all I knew was that I had screwed up real bad, I mean the one thing keeping me from having any sort of relationship with Woodrow was that he was my best friend and I didn't want to hurt him right? Lately I hadn't been sure of anything, the first few droplets of water came falling from the dark sky. I glanced up and sighed, it was going to be one long winter if I didn't get this cleared up, he was my friend, a friend different from Kim, Kim was my childhood friend she was the one who allowed me to cry on her shoulder in those long days after my mother's death. Woody met me and fallowed me willingly into my hell.
I didn't know where to find him. He had been avoiding me since are fight in the bar. Now I stood in front of the 20th Precinct, right outside of the round-a-bout doors, I couldn't bring myself to go inside, in the end I didn't have too. My cell phone rang, startling me, "Cavanaugh" it was Garret, "Hey Jordan, we got a murder on 4th and Walnut," I sighed moment of truth, I couldn't allow my personal life effect my professional. "Okay, who's the lead detective," I said crossing my finger's praying it was Eddie Winslow. "Hoyt, you should have fun" he said with a knowing chuckle, Devan or Lily must have Filled him in on the little event that went on last night. I made a note to kill them, later "alright, see yah Garret," "Bye Jo."
When I got to the sight, Woody was their, yelling at some uniform, for whatever reason. I was expecting a cold shoulder from the man, but their was the usual "Hey, Jordan" I sighed in relief when he didn't take out any of his rage on me. "What do we got Woody?" I asked with trepidation "we don't know anything yet, seems the body is like fifteen years old... or so Nigel tells me," He never did look me in the eyes, when he spoke he looked at his feet nervously. "Woody about last night..." he walked off before I could finish "Damn it Hoyt, I'm talking to you." I shouted at his back
"Jordan, I want to be you're friend I do, believe me, I do, but every time I get somewhere with you, you shut me out... so I am going to stop this charade before you or I get hurt." And something in his blue eyes told me this discussion was done.
I looked at the body, almost nothing but bones tossed into a large duffle bag, a few stray red hairs on the head, as I looked over her body, I noticed something at the bottom of the duffel, something shiny. A hair clip, sparkly; I sighed and put the tape recorder close to my face. "Bones, small amounts of tissue, female, around fourteen to eighteen;" Woody wrote something down on his trusty pad of paper and knelt down next to me, "she was just a kid," I looked over at his face, it seemed like their was a new worry line in between his eyes. He sighed and looked up. "Jordan it looks like we have to do some digging around, come on" I glanced up and him quizzically, "Where are we going?" he looked at me a little coolly, "the 20th precinct basement, they keep a log of all their Missing kids, all the way back to the thirties." He helped me up from where I was stooped next to the bag of bones literally. We walked in complete silence as it sprinkled lightly, covering the ground with a sheen, I wasn't sure if I should say anything or if it would make it worse, so I glanced over at him when he wasn't looking. His face was set solemnly, his jaw clenched tight. When we got down to the basement I shivered, all the shelves of musty files and boxes, dust collected on the walls, remnants of cob webs grew in the corners, a small window let in a small bit of light but the shadows of the bars that kept everything out were the most prominent, a small bit of broken glass lay discarded on the floor. "Wow, not exactly the Ritz," I whispered to myself sarcastically "what were you exspecting?" Woody asked sourly. "Alright Woody, you're too nice of a guy to let this go on for to long, so lets just say we forget about it and start over." I said a lump gathering in my throat, "No Jordan I'm done, I've had all that I can take. So lets just be done with this case so we can get out of here... this place gives me the creeps." He ended with a long sigh and a deadened glance around the room.
We looked threw file after file, report after report, none of which a red headed caucision girl missing in the eighties, when we were just about to give up, Woody snapped his fingers triumphantly and shouted "Jennifer Foster, 17 disappeared 1982, suspected run away... Red hair, blue eyes, last seen wearing a grey and pink UCLA sweatshirt and jeans, carrying a black backpack and a..." "Red duffle bag," I finished for him, he smiled and whispered, remembering that he was mad at me. "Great, let's get the hell out of here" "My sentiments exactly." I said in agreement, we moved towards the door, filing up the narrow stairway. "Ladies first..." he bit out, I pasted him, looking straight into his eyes, I turned the dusty doorknob, only something was wrong, I shook it harder, nothing, it wouldn't budge, I rattled it hard. "Woody," I said my voice laced with fear. "The door won't open."
It had to be six o'clock in the morning when I first saw Woody today; he looked tired, drawn, and weak. I was doing an autopsy on the Jane doe they found in the ally, he got his report and left before I had a chance to ask him what was wrong, although I had a feeling it had something to do with Jordan, with him, it was always about Jordan. Then Jordan came bursting threw the double doors, she was wearing Jeans and a Black T-shirt, her hair was straight and pulled into a tight ponytail. "Hey Peter have you seen Woody?" she asked with a trace of longing in her voice. "Saw him this morning, got his report and left." She nodded her head grimly and left. "You're welcome!" I shouted at the swinging double doors which was the only remnants that she had ever even been in the crypt.
Jordan's POV
Grey clouds signaled rain, everything seemed moist and cold, I pulled my jacket up around my chin as I walked along the cracked sidewalk, the tree's swayed in the cool breeze, creating a whispering noise. I wasn't sure where I was walking, all I knew was that I had screwed up real bad, I mean the one thing keeping me from having any sort of relationship with Woodrow was that he was my best friend and I didn't want to hurt him right? Lately I hadn't been sure of anything, the first few droplets of water came falling from the dark sky. I glanced up and sighed, it was going to be one long winter if I didn't get this cleared up, he was my friend, a friend different from Kim, Kim was my childhood friend she was the one who allowed me to cry on her shoulder in those long days after my mother's death. Woody met me and fallowed me willingly into my hell.
I didn't know where to find him. He had been avoiding me since are fight in the bar. Now I stood in front of the 20th Precinct, right outside of the round-a-bout doors, I couldn't bring myself to go inside, in the end I didn't have too. My cell phone rang, startling me, "Cavanaugh" it was Garret, "Hey Jordan, we got a murder on 4th and Walnut," I sighed moment of truth, I couldn't allow my personal life effect my professional. "Okay, who's the lead detective," I said crossing my finger's praying it was Eddie Winslow. "Hoyt, you should have fun" he said with a knowing chuckle, Devan or Lily must have Filled him in on the little event that went on last night. I made a note to kill them, later "alright, see yah Garret," "Bye Jo."
When I got to the sight, Woody was their, yelling at some uniform, for whatever reason. I was expecting a cold shoulder from the man, but their was the usual "Hey, Jordan" I sighed in relief when he didn't take out any of his rage on me. "What do we got Woody?" I asked with trepidation "we don't know anything yet, seems the body is like fifteen years old... or so Nigel tells me," He never did look me in the eyes, when he spoke he looked at his feet nervously. "Woody about last night..." he walked off before I could finish "Damn it Hoyt, I'm talking to you." I shouted at his back
"Jordan, I want to be you're friend I do, believe me, I do, but every time I get somewhere with you, you shut me out... so I am going to stop this charade before you or I get hurt." And something in his blue eyes told me this discussion was done.
I looked at the body, almost nothing but bones tossed into a large duffle bag, a few stray red hairs on the head, as I looked over her body, I noticed something at the bottom of the duffel, something shiny. A hair clip, sparkly; I sighed and put the tape recorder close to my face. "Bones, small amounts of tissue, female, around fourteen to eighteen;" Woody wrote something down on his trusty pad of paper and knelt down next to me, "she was just a kid," I looked over at his face, it seemed like their was a new worry line in between his eyes. He sighed and looked up. "Jordan it looks like we have to do some digging around, come on" I glanced up and him quizzically, "Where are we going?" he looked at me a little coolly, "the 20th precinct basement, they keep a log of all their Missing kids, all the way back to the thirties." He helped me up from where I was stooped next to the bag of bones literally. We walked in complete silence as it sprinkled lightly, covering the ground with a sheen, I wasn't sure if I should say anything or if it would make it worse, so I glanced over at him when he wasn't looking. His face was set solemnly, his jaw clenched tight. When we got down to the basement I shivered, all the shelves of musty files and boxes, dust collected on the walls, remnants of cob webs grew in the corners, a small window let in a small bit of light but the shadows of the bars that kept everything out were the most prominent, a small bit of broken glass lay discarded on the floor. "Wow, not exactly the Ritz," I whispered to myself sarcastically "what were you exspecting?" Woody asked sourly. "Alright Woody, you're too nice of a guy to let this go on for to long, so lets just say we forget about it and start over." I said a lump gathering in my throat, "No Jordan I'm done, I've had all that I can take. So lets just be done with this case so we can get out of here... this place gives me the creeps." He ended with a long sigh and a deadened glance around the room.
We looked threw file after file, report after report, none of which a red headed caucision girl missing in the eighties, when we were just about to give up, Woody snapped his fingers triumphantly and shouted "Jennifer Foster, 17 disappeared 1982, suspected run away... Red hair, blue eyes, last seen wearing a grey and pink UCLA sweatshirt and jeans, carrying a black backpack and a..." "Red duffle bag," I finished for him, he smiled and whispered, remembering that he was mad at me. "Great, let's get the hell out of here" "My sentiments exactly." I said in agreement, we moved towards the door, filing up the narrow stairway. "Ladies first..." he bit out, I pasted him, looking straight into his eyes, I turned the dusty doorknob, only something was wrong, I shook it harder, nothing, it wouldn't budge, I rattled it hard. "Woody," I said my voice laced with fear. "The door won't open."