Woody sat at his desk, balled up pieces of paper and paper coffee
cups were strewn about, he staring blankly into the computer screen, his
finger slamming the enter key over and over. As he was about to give up the
idea of finding her name in the IA system when something popped up.
"What have we got here?" he asked himself, perking up. "Jennifer O'Brian was charged with assaulting a suspect but later cleared of the charges... Jennifer O'Brian testifies against dirty cop... Thomas Shelton, whoa, Jordan's going to wanna hear this." He read aloud to himself raising his voice an octave so he could hear over the din of the rain tapping on the window loudly, and then he saw it. "Murder on 28th and Charles. Mike Freedmen, 32, Police Officer from the fifth precinct shot by perp in cheap hotel during raid, other officers were, Rodger Tandy, Thomas Shelton, Eddie Jansen, Harry Smith and Jennifer O'Brian." He felt like he couldn't breathe, beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, from the smell of it this was dangerous.
He walked quickly down the well lit hallway towards autopsy. He never should have left Wisconsin, there are no dirty cops in Wisconsin, well, not in Kewaunee at least, he amended. Jordan was in autopsy with O'Brian herself, her hair pulled back, in simple blue scrubs, latex gloved hands covered with scarlet blood. This was when he loved her most, watching her do what she loves the most, cutting up dead people.
"Hey Babe, please tell me that you have something for me?" it was more of a demand than a question. She smiled, he was nervous, a look of edginess was glued to his adorable face, she had to smile.
"Well, I'm waiting for the tox screens but, she was shot once with a 38, more specifically with her own gun." She peeled off her gloves and turned to him, smiling she leaned over for a kiss, he obliged. "Let me clean up, and we'll go get some breakfast, then catch a nap and question some of her fellow officers from the fifth.
As she pushed threw the double doors of the locker room she smiled. She had been dating Woody for a month now, it was great, but as she was becoming more comfortable, he was becoming antsier, not sleeping and when he did, he would wake up in the middle of the night, his face warm and sticky with sweat. It was like their roles were reversed, she was comforting him instead of the other way around.
She stripped of the soiled scrubs, and dressed in her buckskin colored, tight in all the right places jeans and white top. Still she couldn't remove Woody from her mind. He had been her rock, her strength, the one person who wouldn't let her run away, she pushed him away, and he shoved back.
Outside, the wind was raw from the ocean air, it wept and wailed as it gust threw the lit up city of Boston, a snow storm was on its way, she could smell it on the crisp air. She used to love the snow; the way it swirled and danced threw the gun barrel gray sky. She remembered when she was little; she would stand out in her front yard, catching big fat flakes on her tongue, now snow was nothing but an inconvenience, a big, cold, inconvenience.
Woody was waiting in a chair near the elevator, resting his head against the wall. He wasn't sure what caused the dreams to suddenly appear after nearly six months, all he could really remember anything except look plastered onto her lifeless face, all pallid and grey, her look of shock, and the fear. The fear was the worst; he felt it rise in his throat until it was as tangible as his hands, and when he woke up in the morning all he was concerned about was making sure she was safe.
When she immerged from the locker room, she looked beautiful in her simple white top and tan jeans. It was amazing how she could throw on anything and look incredible.
"Hi" he said standing up, holding out a hand for her to take.
"Hi" she repeated, taking his outstretched hand and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
"Piggyback ride?" she asked playfully, he ducked down so she could hop on his back and drape her arms around his neck. She was so light, like a feather, he spun around lightheartedly, as they made their way down the shaded hallway, to the elevator, she giggled, a childish, happy giggle.
As the elevator chimed and the doors opened shining its light down the darkened corridor.
"What have we got here?" he asked himself, perking up. "Jennifer O'Brian was charged with assaulting a suspect but later cleared of the charges... Jennifer O'Brian testifies against dirty cop... Thomas Shelton, whoa, Jordan's going to wanna hear this." He read aloud to himself raising his voice an octave so he could hear over the din of the rain tapping on the window loudly, and then he saw it. "Murder on 28th and Charles. Mike Freedmen, 32, Police Officer from the fifth precinct shot by perp in cheap hotel during raid, other officers were, Rodger Tandy, Thomas Shelton, Eddie Jansen, Harry Smith and Jennifer O'Brian." He felt like he couldn't breathe, beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, from the smell of it this was dangerous.
He walked quickly down the well lit hallway towards autopsy. He never should have left Wisconsin, there are no dirty cops in Wisconsin, well, not in Kewaunee at least, he amended. Jordan was in autopsy with O'Brian herself, her hair pulled back, in simple blue scrubs, latex gloved hands covered with scarlet blood. This was when he loved her most, watching her do what she loves the most, cutting up dead people.
"Hey Babe, please tell me that you have something for me?" it was more of a demand than a question. She smiled, he was nervous, a look of edginess was glued to his adorable face, she had to smile.
"Well, I'm waiting for the tox screens but, she was shot once with a 38, more specifically with her own gun." She peeled off her gloves and turned to him, smiling she leaned over for a kiss, he obliged. "Let me clean up, and we'll go get some breakfast, then catch a nap and question some of her fellow officers from the fifth.
As she pushed threw the double doors of the locker room she smiled. She had been dating Woody for a month now, it was great, but as she was becoming more comfortable, he was becoming antsier, not sleeping and when he did, he would wake up in the middle of the night, his face warm and sticky with sweat. It was like their roles were reversed, she was comforting him instead of the other way around.
She stripped of the soiled scrubs, and dressed in her buckskin colored, tight in all the right places jeans and white top. Still she couldn't remove Woody from her mind. He had been her rock, her strength, the one person who wouldn't let her run away, she pushed him away, and he shoved back.
Outside, the wind was raw from the ocean air, it wept and wailed as it gust threw the lit up city of Boston, a snow storm was on its way, she could smell it on the crisp air. She used to love the snow; the way it swirled and danced threw the gun barrel gray sky. She remembered when she was little; she would stand out in her front yard, catching big fat flakes on her tongue, now snow was nothing but an inconvenience, a big, cold, inconvenience.
Woody was waiting in a chair near the elevator, resting his head against the wall. He wasn't sure what caused the dreams to suddenly appear after nearly six months, all he could really remember anything except look plastered onto her lifeless face, all pallid and grey, her look of shock, and the fear. The fear was the worst; he felt it rise in his throat until it was as tangible as his hands, and when he woke up in the morning all he was concerned about was making sure she was safe.
When she immerged from the locker room, she looked beautiful in her simple white top and tan jeans. It was amazing how she could throw on anything and look incredible.
"Hi" he said standing up, holding out a hand for her to take.
"Hi" she repeated, taking his outstretched hand and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
"Piggyback ride?" she asked playfully, he ducked down so she could hop on his back and drape her arms around his neck. She was so light, like a feather, he spun around lightheartedly, as they made their way down the shaded hallway, to the elevator, she giggled, a childish, happy giggle.
As the elevator chimed and the doors opened shining its light down the darkened corridor.