Later that evening, after Woody had a chance to go over the files in detail, he caught up with Jordan at the Pogue. He had seen Jordan's reaction when Garrett mentioned Dr. Murphy and figured something was going on that she wasn't telling him. And he had to admit, he was a bit jealous. The bell jangled over the door to the bar when he entered.
"Hey Woody," Jordan called out. She was playing bar wench again. Ever since Max had left town, it was like Jordan had two full time jobs – ME and barkeep. Woody worried what it was doing to her physically, but more than that, what it was doing to them. Just when their relationship had started to warm up, Joe, the guy that had managed the bar for her in Max's absence, had a heart attack. No one was quite sure when or if he would return to work.
Woody sat down at the bar and Jordan placed a Guiness in front of him. "How's it going?" she asked as she leaned forward for a kiss. Woody gladly obliged. He still had to pinch himself. After all the years of keeping him at arms length, she had finally admitted to herself and him that she loved him.
"You got a minute?" Woody asked, when they reluctantly broke apart. He held out his hand.
"Can you handle it, Marge?" Jordan asked the other barkeep.
"Go ahead, baby. I got it covered. Go talk with your man," Marge replied.
Jordan took Woody's hand and he led her up to "their" table. "I've had a chance to review the files. I think you're on to something, but we can't find someone the vics had in common. At least not yet. Any chance that these are random poisonings – the murderer just killed for the sake of killing and didn't know the vics?"
"I don't know. I honestly don't know that much about the psychological factors behind arsenic poisoning. I'm sure Dr. Murphy does, though."
"Dr. Murphy. You seemed to react a little strangely when Garrett brought his name up today," Woody said, taking a swallow of beer and avoiding Jordan's eyes.
"Ummmm, yeah. I know Dr. Murphy. We went to undergrad school together."
"Oh," Woody said, his eyebrows bouncing up to hit his hairline. "Anything I should know about?"
Jordan laughed. "No....absolutely nothing you should worry about. It's just when Dr. Murphy left Boston and Tufts, no one thought Steve would ever return. Hates cold weather."
"Are you sure that's all?"
"Positive. I never dated Dr. Murphy."
"Did Garrett get in touch with him today?"
"Yeah. Sent an e-mail. Steve's flying in tomorrow."
Woody took all this information in and looked Jordan square in the eye. There was still something she wasn't telling him, but for the most part, her eyes were just smiling.
"Wanna dance?" she asked.
"Do you really want to dance or is this your way of still avoiding the subject of Dr. Murphy?"
"Hey, look. I'm being honest. I never dated Dr. Murphy. Ever. And I do want to dance with you. Do you realize I haven't been in your arms in nearly 24 hours?"
Woody relented. "Okay, but only if it's a slow song."
Jordan pulled him to the jukebox and skimmed the selections. Making her choice, she inserted her coins, punched the buttons and led Woody to the dance floor. The song was "Melt" by Rascal Flatts. Funny, Woody didn't know Jordan knew anything remotely about country music. This woman kept him on his toes. He didn't know if he'd ever understand her. At the end of the song, she snuggled up and whispered in his ear "Wanna go back to my apartment?"
"Seems that I'm going to have to Dr. Cavanaugh. I left my toothbrush there."
=========================================================
Later, much later, a sated Jordan rolled over and kissed Woody. The past six months had been so much better than she could ever have imagined. Woody was a tender and compassionate lover that cared more for her than he did himself. She often kicked herself for not opening her heart to this man sooner. She never expected to love another person this unconditionally and couldn't imagine her life without him.
"Hey," he said, sleepily opening his eyes. "Anything wrong?"
"No..everything's very right, wouldn't you say?"
A masculine chuckle was all the reply she got as Woody wrapped his arms around her and flipped her over on her back. "Well, it's right, but I think it's going to get a little more right before the night's over...what do you think?"
"I think it's a good idea....one can never be too right," Jordan said with a gasp as Woody's lips trailed down the side of her neck to her collarbone. She could feel his hands lightly skimming up the sides of her hips and his thigh was wedged between her legs. When his hands reached her breast, she moaned. Woody chuckled again.
"Do you know what you look like?" Woody softly asked.
Jordan struggled to find words, any words, to reply. "No," she finally got out.
Woody softly kissed her and tilted her chin up so that she was looking him in the eyes. "You look like you're my woman. Are you?"
"Yes. Only yours."
Woody deepened the kiss. "Are you sure?"
Jordan drew back, almost hurt at the near accusation. Looking at Woody's eyes, she could see just the slightest hesitancy in those baby blues. He was still worrying about Steve. Jordan laughed and ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm all yours, like it or not."
Woody growled. "I like it very much, thank you ma'am. ==============================================================
The next day dawned much too early for Jordan's liking. Spending the night wrapped in Woody's arms was now her very favorite thing to do. Even though they quite frequently worked together, she enjoyed their time alone tremendously. She laughed at herself. Two, even three years ago, she would never have pictured herself in this predicament. Jordan Cavanaugh, head over heels in love. Who would have every imagined.....
The only thing that was making this morning tolerable was that Stevie was flying in early and should be in Jordan's office before noon. It had been a long time since she had seen Steve. She was looking forward to catching up. The morning crawled by and around 10:30 Garrett, Nigel, Woody and Jordan found themselves in trace discussing the arsenic poisonings.
"It would seem with all of the symptoms and no definite diagnosis, the doctors would at least have tested for some type of poisoning," Nigel said. "It's just a bloody shame that something would happen to someone so young."
"Arsenic mimics so many sicknesses, you could spend months testing your patient and still not reach a conclusive diagnosis. By the time you've exhausted treatments, your patient is dead. It's only then that they go 'Hey, maybe we should check for poison'," said a soft voice deeply steeped with a Southern drawl.
All four pairs of eyes were drawn to the doorway. There stood a very blonde, very blue-eyed, very petite young woman. Garrett pulled off his glasses. "May I help you?" he asked, politely.
The woman grinned at Jordan and winked. "I think I'm here to help you. I'm Dr. Steve Murphy. You didn't tell them, did you Jor?"
Jordan laughed and walked over to hug Stevie. "Nope. I enjoyed watching them twist in the wind."
Garrett, Woody and Nigel were standing there looking slightly aghast. "You're Dr. Murphy? Dr. Steve Murphy?" Nigel asked. "How do you know Jordan?"
Dr. Murphy walked over and shook hands with the men. "It's a long story. In a nutshell, my full name is Stephanie Patrice Murphy. I have five older brothers. When Mom got pregnant with me, she just assumed that I was going to be a boy, too. I was supposed to be Steven Patrick Murphy. When the doctor announced I was definitely not a boy, Mom just improvised the name. But with a houseful of boys, I didn't stand a chance. Grew up a tomboy and my brothers called me Stevie from day one. As I got older and entered the medical profession, it was shortened to Steve. And I know Jordan from Tufts. We roomed together."
Nigel gave Stevie a very toothy grin. "Well, you're definitely not a boy, that's for sure. So you roomed with our Jordan. Oh....the stories you could tell, I'm sure...."
Stevie grinned. "There are few that would curl your hair....now who's who Jordan?"
Jordan introduced Garrett and Nigel. "Oh . . . Dr. Townsend. I passed your office on the way to trace. You've got all the nice toys," Stevie said, referring to Nigel's vast array of computerized equipment.
"Yes, and you're welcome to come play anytime. And call me Nigel."
Lastly, Jordan introduced Woody. "This is Detective Woody Hoyt. He's our police liaison on this case."
Stevie looked Woody over from head to toe. "Hmmmmm you don't sound like you're from Boston. Don't look like it either."
"Back off, Stevie, he's taken," Jordan warned.
"So noted. You've got good taste, Jo. Tall....nice eyes...."
"Well, just as long as you know he's not up for grabs. If I remember correctly, there still are a few hearts around Boston for you to break," Jordan smirked.
Dr. Murphy had the good grace to blush and cough slightly. "Er, yes....well....what's up with this little ol' case of arsenic poisoning?"