Later that afternoon, after Jordan had processed the body and had the preliminary paperwork done, she tried to decide whether or not to fax the report to Woody or to take it over to him. She really, really wanted to know if he had taken the time to look at the stuff in the envelope. Finally throwing off her lab coat and grabbing her pocketbook and keys, she went back to Woody's office. It was after five and most of the other detectives had cleared out. Woody was still there, in his shirt sleeves, filling out paperwork. Jordan paused at the door and knocked softly. "Can I come in or are you busy?"
Woody smiled. "No, come in. What do you have?" he asked as he noticed the papers in her hand.
"It's the prelims for the vic you found today. And I needed to ask you something else. Have you had a chance to look at that envelope I gave you a few weeks ago? I know you were waiting until after the arsenic case was solved...."
Woody leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. "No, I haven't had a chance to look at it, but we will now, if you want to. And only if you will promise me that if it's anything substantial, you won't try to follow up on your own – you'll either let me do it or wait for me to go with you, okay?"
"Sure, Wood. You know I will."
Woody reached in his pants pocket and pulled out his key ring. He inserted the key in the bottom file drawer and opened it up. Reaching his hand in, he encountered ..
Nothing.
Stunned, he bent over and looked in the drawer. It was empty. He sat straight back up.
"It's gone Jordan."
"What's gone?"
"The envelope. It's gone."
"Gone?" Jordan asked, clearly incredulous. "But how? And why?"
Woody narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you could tell me."
"Me? What would I know about it? I gave it to you, remember?"
"Uh-huh and came back for it later when I was busy with the arsenic case and couldn't get to it?"
"No, Woody. Honest. I promised you I wouldn't do stuff like that anymore and I haven't."
Woody stood up and walked to where Jordan was standing. Slowly and deliberately, he backed her into a corner. "Let me tell you what I think," he said.
Jordan swallowed hard and looked up into the blue eyes of the man that was towering above her. "W—what do you think?" she managed to stammer. She hated how she sounded...but right now she couldn't get two thoughts together other than the fact that Woody thought that she, once again, had betrayed him.
"I think that somehow, I don't know how, but you found out that I locked the envelope in my file cabinet. Maybe you came in here looking and tried to open the drawer and couldn't, so you figured the envelope was in there. Maybe you noticed the cabinet keys on my key ring. But somehow you figured it out. And you took the keys and either made a copy or borrowed them just long enough to get in here and get that envelope and go through it. Now do you want to tell me what is in that envelope or do I have to play guessing games with you? And when are you going to take off after the lead? How far away will I have to chase you this time, Jordan?"
Jordan stared disbelievingly into Woody's eyes. After everything she had told him – she loved him for God's sake. She opened up her heart and her body to this man. She was hurt and she was angry and at the moment, she wasn't sure which one she was the most. "You don't have to chase me anywhere, Woody," she managed choke out. Tearing her eyes away from his, she pushed the detective out of her way and somehow managed to gracefully exit his office. Somehow, her legs took her down the hall. Not waiting on the elevators, she threw open the door to the stairwell and raced down all four flights. Finally, stopping at the bottom she caught her breath on the sobs that were escaping her throat. Leaning against the wall, she cried until they broke into gasps for air. Pulling herself together, she let herself out into the parking garage and into her SUV. She automatically headed for her apartment, only to remember that he may be there waiting on her. Abruptly, she turned around and headed for her father's house.
When she arrived, it was already dusky and Steve had the lights on. Katie was playing on the front porch with her Barbies. "Hey Jordan," she called out. "You don't look so good. Are you sick?"
Jordan tried to smile and nodded at the child. "No, I don't feel so good, Katie. Is your mommy home?"
"Yeah, she's in the kitchen fixin' dinner. Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah, I just need your mommy to check me out."
Katie got up and opened the door for Jordan. "Mom, Jordan's here. She's sick."
Stevie rounded the corner, took one look at Jordan and pointed toward the kitchen. "Go in there. Have a seat. I have half a bottle of Scotch hid in the cabinet over the stove. Help yourself. Give me a minute to get Katie occupied."
Jordan nodded and walked to the kitchen.
"Katie," Stevie called out, "How would you like to stay up and watch all of the 'Princess Bride' tonight?"
"The whole thing, Mom? Even if it's past my bedtime?"
"Yep, special treat. I'll even order pizza and let you eat in front of the TV."
Katie couldn't figure out exactly what she had done to make her mom so lenient tonight, but she wasn't going to mess with the facts. "Cool!" she said.
About a half an hour later, after the pizza had arrived and Katie was settled in front of the TV, Stevie sat down to talk to Jordan.
"Tell me what happened, Jordan. You were fine this afternoon. You go to see Woody and now you're a mess. What happened?"
Jordan took a deep breath. "You know my mom was murdered?"
Stevie nodded.
"Well, off and on for the last twenty years or so I have tried to find out who did it," Jordan began and she went on to tell Stevie the Cavanaugh condensed version of searching for her mom's killer and all the trouble it had brought her.
"So after the Malden case, I promised Garrett, Woody, and Dr. Stiles if anything came my way about my mom's murderer, I'd give it to Woody. He'd either follow up or go with me when I followed up. And I did, Stevie. I gave the envelope to Woody," Jordan broke down again. "I gave it to him. I don't know who took the envelope. I didn't. Other than the note from my private investigator, I don't know what was in it."
Stevie looked at Jordan for a long moment and then at her glass of amber colored liquid. She had pulled the bottle of Scotch down and poured both of them a double. Now came the difficult questions.
"Jordan, I know this sounds dumb, but I need to know. Do you love Woody?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
Jordan looked at Stevie, a bit surprised at her line of questioning. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Okay, follow me closely on this one. You know love is a complicated critter. It can be a real chameleon. You can love someone and still not be able to live with them. You say you love Woody, right?"
Jordan nodded.
"Can you live with the fact that when something like this happens, he may never trust you? That he may continue to blame you for things that aren't your fault, that you had nothing to do with, and may not have total control over? How is that blame going to wear on the trust you have in him? Will he get over his issues with your past?"
Jordan quietly thought about this for a few moments. "Why do you ask?"
"Because trust is a funny thing, Jor. It can be strong as steel or as fragile as cobwebs. When it's violated in a relationship, it's difficult to get back. And trust is the one thing a relationship needs to feed itself and grow."
"Is that why your ex left you? Did you violate his trust?" Jordan asked, somewhat angered at her friend for exposing the frayed seams of hers and Woody's relationship.
Stevie sighed and ran a hand down her face. "No, not exactly."
Jordan had just enough Scotch in her to be brave. "Then why did he run when you got pregnant with Katie? Was Katie really his child?"
Stevie knew the time had come to fill Jordan in on her brief marriage. She also knew her friend was in deep personal pain all her own – her very own kind of hell -- and was lashing out at anyone. "Oh, Katie is his child. Any DNA test in the universe would back that up."
"Then why did he run?"
"You mean other than the fact he was a selfish bastard that didn't want the responsibility of a child?"
"Yeah."
Stevie sighed. "He didn't exactly run. I kicked him out."
Now Jordan was really curious. "Why?"
Slowly, Stevie stood up. "Do you really want to know, Jordan? Do you really want to know what kind of mistakes I have made in my life?"
"Yes. I want to know."
Just as slowly, Stevie turned around, with her back facing toward Jordan. Slowly, she lifted up her shirt to expose her back to her friend. It was a mesh of crisscross lines and cigarette burn scars.
"He beat me, Jo. He tried to beat Katie out of me."
Woody smiled. "No, come in. What do you have?" he asked as he noticed the papers in her hand.
"It's the prelims for the vic you found today. And I needed to ask you something else. Have you had a chance to look at that envelope I gave you a few weeks ago? I know you were waiting until after the arsenic case was solved...."
Woody leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. "No, I haven't had a chance to look at it, but we will now, if you want to. And only if you will promise me that if it's anything substantial, you won't try to follow up on your own – you'll either let me do it or wait for me to go with you, okay?"
"Sure, Wood. You know I will."
Woody reached in his pants pocket and pulled out his key ring. He inserted the key in the bottom file drawer and opened it up. Reaching his hand in, he encountered ..
Nothing.
Stunned, he bent over and looked in the drawer. It was empty. He sat straight back up.
"It's gone Jordan."
"What's gone?"
"The envelope. It's gone."
"Gone?" Jordan asked, clearly incredulous. "But how? And why?"
Woody narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you could tell me."
"Me? What would I know about it? I gave it to you, remember?"
"Uh-huh and came back for it later when I was busy with the arsenic case and couldn't get to it?"
"No, Woody. Honest. I promised you I wouldn't do stuff like that anymore and I haven't."
Woody stood up and walked to where Jordan was standing. Slowly and deliberately, he backed her into a corner. "Let me tell you what I think," he said.
Jordan swallowed hard and looked up into the blue eyes of the man that was towering above her. "W—what do you think?" she managed to stammer. She hated how she sounded...but right now she couldn't get two thoughts together other than the fact that Woody thought that she, once again, had betrayed him.
"I think that somehow, I don't know how, but you found out that I locked the envelope in my file cabinet. Maybe you came in here looking and tried to open the drawer and couldn't, so you figured the envelope was in there. Maybe you noticed the cabinet keys on my key ring. But somehow you figured it out. And you took the keys and either made a copy or borrowed them just long enough to get in here and get that envelope and go through it. Now do you want to tell me what is in that envelope or do I have to play guessing games with you? And when are you going to take off after the lead? How far away will I have to chase you this time, Jordan?"
Jordan stared disbelievingly into Woody's eyes. After everything she had told him – she loved him for God's sake. She opened up her heart and her body to this man. She was hurt and she was angry and at the moment, she wasn't sure which one she was the most. "You don't have to chase me anywhere, Woody," she managed choke out. Tearing her eyes away from his, she pushed the detective out of her way and somehow managed to gracefully exit his office. Somehow, her legs took her down the hall. Not waiting on the elevators, she threw open the door to the stairwell and raced down all four flights. Finally, stopping at the bottom she caught her breath on the sobs that were escaping her throat. Leaning against the wall, she cried until they broke into gasps for air. Pulling herself together, she let herself out into the parking garage and into her SUV. She automatically headed for her apartment, only to remember that he may be there waiting on her. Abruptly, she turned around and headed for her father's house.
When she arrived, it was already dusky and Steve had the lights on. Katie was playing on the front porch with her Barbies. "Hey Jordan," she called out. "You don't look so good. Are you sick?"
Jordan tried to smile and nodded at the child. "No, I don't feel so good, Katie. Is your mommy home?"
"Yeah, she's in the kitchen fixin' dinner. Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah, I just need your mommy to check me out."
Katie got up and opened the door for Jordan. "Mom, Jordan's here. She's sick."
Stevie rounded the corner, took one look at Jordan and pointed toward the kitchen. "Go in there. Have a seat. I have half a bottle of Scotch hid in the cabinet over the stove. Help yourself. Give me a minute to get Katie occupied."
Jordan nodded and walked to the kitchen.
"Katie," Stevie called out, "How would you like to stay up and watch all of the 'Princess Bride' tonight?"
"The whole thing, Mom? Even if it's past my bedtime?"
"Yep, special treat. I'll even order pizza and let you eat in front of the TV."
Katie couldn't figure out exactly what she had done to make her mom so lenient tonight, but she wasn't going to mess with the facts. "Cool!" she said.
About a half an hour later, after the pizza had arrived and Katie was settled in front of the TV, Stevie sat down to talk to Jordan.
"Tell me what happened, Jordan. You were fine this afternoon. You go to see Woody and now you're a mess. What happened?"
Jordan took a deep breath. "You know my mom was murdered?"
Stevie nodded.
"Well, off and on for the last twenty years or so I have tried to find out who did it," Jordan began and she went on to tell Stevie the Cavanaugh condensed version of searching for her mom's killer and all the trouble it had brought her.
"So after the Malden case, I promised Garrett, Woody, and Dr. Stiles if anything came my way about my mom's murderer, I'd give it to Woody. He'd either follow up or go with me when I followed up. And I did, Stevie. I gave the envelope to Woody," Jordan broke down again. "I gave it to him. I don't know who took the envelope. I didn't. Other than the note from my private investigator, I don't know what was in it."
Stevie looked at Jordan for a long moment and then at her glass of amber colored liquid. She had pulled the bottle of Scotch down and poured both of them a double. Now came the difficult questions.
"Jordan, I know this sounds dumb, but I need to know. Do you love Woody?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
Jordan looked at Stevie, a bit surprised at her line of questioning. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Okay, follow me closely on this one. You know love is a complicated critter. It can be a real chameleon. You can love someone and still not be able to live with them. You say you love Woody, right?"
Jordan nodded.
"Can you live with the fact that when something like this happens, he may never trust you? That he may continue to blame you for things that aren't your fault, that you had nothing to do with, and may not have total control over? How is that blame going to wear on the trust you have in him? Will he get over his issues with your past?"
Jordan quietly thought about this for a few moments. "Why do you ask?"
"Because trust is a funny thing, Jor. It can be strong as steel or as fragile as cobwebs. When it's violated in a relationship, it's difficult to get back. And trust is the one thing a relationship needs to feed itself and grow."
"Is that why your ex left you? Did you violate his trust?" Jordan asked, somewhat angered at her friend for exposing the frayed seams of hers and Woody's relationship.
Stevie sighed and ran a hand down her face. "No, not exactly."
Jordan had just enough Scotch in her to be brave. "Then why did he run when you got pregnant with Katie? Was Katie really his child?"
Stevie knew the time had come to fill Jordan in on her brief marriage. She also knew her friend was in deep personal pain all her own – her very own kind of hell -- and was lashing out at anyone. "Oh, Katie is his child. Any DNA test in the universe would back that up."
"Then why did he run?"
"You mean other than the fact he was a selfish bastard that didn't want the responsibility of a child?"
"Yeah."
Stevie sighed. "He didn't exactly run. I kicked him out."
Now Jordan was really curious. "Why?"
Slowly, Stevie stood up. "Do you really want to know, Jordan? Do you really want to know what kind of mistakes I have made in my life?"
"Yes. I want to know."
Just as slowly, Stevie turned around, with her back facing toward Jordan. Slowly, she lifted up her shirt to expose her back to her friend. It was a mesh of crisscross lines and cigarette burn scars.
"He beat me, Jo. He tried to beat Katie out of me."