Day 13: Boston General Hospital
"Jordan, you were just attacked. Do you really want to play this game right now?" Woody asked concerned that I was pushing it . . . I lived my entire life trying to the push the limits.
"I'll be Candice . . . why would you want to strangle me?" I asked Woody.
"I couldn't have . . . I was campaigning in Northern Massachusetts," Woody replied . . . relenting . . . agreeing to play my game.
"What about the guy at the bar?" I asked.
"The campaign manager . . . he was in town . . . he was taking care of some fundraising that night," Woody replied.
"Okay, why would the campaign manager want to strangle me?" I asked.
"You used to be important to me . . . but then something changed," Woody replied.
"You never had sex with me . . . did you give me money?" I asked.
"I don't know . . . your father didn't support the Richards' campaign . . . what if . . . what if I was going to expose you to the media. I paid you to lay low while I set the stage to embarrass the hell out of your father . . . blackmail him into a huge donation," Woody rambled.
"What if I told my father about you? I told him what they were planning to do. Maybe I was planning to disappear . . . maybe go back home to my family?" I asked.
"It was time for your monthly pay off . . . but you told me that you were backing out of our deal," Woody said.
"I told you to leave my dad alone. I didn't want to do this anymore," I replied.
"I told you I wanted to talk to you . . . we would have a nice meal . . . I took you back to campaign headquarters," Woody said.
"We fought . . . no one else was in the building. I scratched you . . . you were bigger than me," I replied.
"I hit you in the back of the head . . . with . . . something off my desk . . . I hadn't intended to murder you," Woody replied.
"I crumpled to the ground . . . face down," I replied.
"I flipped you over and strangled you . . . I was really pissed . . . I was yelling at you. I took you out the service elevator . . . I knew there weren't any cameras back there. I dumped you by the river," Woody replied.
"Why did you kill everyone else?" I asked.
"They threatened to expose Candice . . . her line of work, how much she charged, and who her father was . . . it wasn't the right time," Woody replied.
"Does this seem right?" I asked . . . excited that maybe this was the lead we needed.
"Maybe . . . Jordan, feel better. I should get going . . . see if I can get a search warrant and bank records for the campaign," Woody said as he stood up . . . began to walk to the door.
"I'm going with you," I said as I tried to push myself out of the bed . . . my body ached.
"Jordan, no . . . I promised Max. You need to stay here," Woody said as he tried to help me back into bed, "Jordan, I'll wake up Garrett and make him sit with you."
"Woody, you'll need someone to process the office . . . Nigel can do the computer work . . . Woody, let me help . . . I need to do this," I pleaded.
"Jordan, no. Could you please listen to me this time?" Woody asked as he sat on the edge of my hospital bed . . . I began to cry . . . I hated crying . . . I hated it more when people saw me cry . . . I tried to hold it in.
He wrapped his arms around me . . . letting me sob. I wasn't really sure what I was crying about . . . Elizabeth Perkins . . . Candice Ellington . . . me . . . the other girls . . . the fact that I couldn't be involved in the investigation. I thought of Elizabeth . . . what I had done to her . . . I should have listened to Woody . . . maybe even common sense. I wondered if I made things worse . . . what would happen when I went home. I could smell his cologne . . . I choked on my sobs . . . my head hurt . . . my throat hurt. I could feel Woody's arms around me . . . one gently stroking my hair. He whispered in my ear . . . every thing would be okay . . . it wasn't okay.
Day 14: Max's House
"Dad, I want to go home," I said as I helped him make macaroni and cheese for supper.
"The doctor said to keep an eye on you for a few days . . . Jordan, you want a hot dog?" Max asked as he stirred the neon orange concoction . . . I said I felt like a child again . . . Dad replied that I would have needed to be an adult to be able to revert to being a child.
"Jordan, I want you to move in with me for a few weeks . . . just to make sure that you are safe," Dad said as he dished out the macaroni . . . cut up my hot dog like he did when I was a little girl.
"Dad, it's going to be okay . . . you should be getting ready to go man the bar," I commented as I picked at my food.
"Not until Woody gets here," Dad said.
"Dad, I don't need a baby-sitter," I complained.
"Jordan, someone tried to murder you . . . I am not letting you alone just yet. Jordan, you are my only girl . . . you'll have to put up with this until I die," Max kidded, "This crap tastes rotten."
"Pepperoni and extra cheese?" I asked.
"You call . . . I'll get rid of this stuff," I said as I pushed my plate towards Dad.
The doorbell rang . . . my heart began to pound inside my chest. Dad said that he would get the door . . . I followed him to the door . . . like a child I hid behind him. I scolded myself for being so scared . . . for letting this man . . . that floating figure terrorize me in my home. I sighed when Dad let Woody into the house . . . Dad told me he would pick up some food on the way to the bar . . . I should still order a pizza . . . he would leave me money . . . I was thirteen years old again. Dad pulled Woody into the kitchen . . . I could hear them talking as I called for my pizza. I heard something about not letting me out of his sight . . . Dad said he trusted Woody . . . now I was reliving the night of my prom. I was ready to go home.
"Jordan, sweetheart, call me if you need anything. Make sure to keep the doors locked . . . take your medicine tonight before you go to bed," Dad rambled as he kissed me on the cheek, "Woody, you watch her."
We watched him walk out the door . . . I locked all the locks on the door.
"I just relived the days when the neighbor girl used to baby-sit me . . . not to mention the night Eddie took me to the prom. Woody, I'm sorry . . . if you have somewhere else to be, you should go," I said as I retreated to the couch . . . Woody following close behind me.
"Jordan, I promised Max," Woody said, "What do you want to watch?"
"I'm sick of watching TV. Could you tell me what you found? I couldn't get a hold of Nigel," I said.
"Blood spatter . . . the guy's name is Todd Jacobson . . . he said he cut his hand a few days ago. I've been working on getting a search warrant for his body . . . I want to look for scratches," Woody said as he flipped through the channels.
"What about Richards? What does he have to say?"
"His alibi is air-tight . . . most of the murders coincide with TV appearances and rallies. It's not him . . . I'd bet all my money on Jacobson," Woody replied.
"Financial records?"
"Peter is working on them . . . he's going to stop by tonight to fill me in . . . I thought you would appreciate a little update on the case," Woody said smiling.
"You're good," I commented.
"Jordan, you were just attacked. Do you really want to play this game right now?" Woody asked concerned that I was pushing it . . . I lived my entire life trying to the push the limits.
"I'll be Candice . . . why would you want to strangle me?" I asked Woody.
"I couldn't have . . . I was campaigning in Northern Massachusetts," Woody replied . . . relenting . . . agreeing to play my game.
"What about the guy at the bar?" I asked.
"The campaign manager . . . he was in town . . . he was taking care of some fundraising that night," Woody replied.
"Okay, why would the campaign manager want to strangle me?" I asked.
"You used to be important to me . . . but then something changed," Woody replied.
"You never had sex with me . . . did you give me money?" I asked.
"I don't know . . . your father didn't support the Richards' campaign . . . what if . . . what if I was going to expose you to the media. I paid you to lay low while I set the stage to embarrass the hell out of your father . . . blackmail him into a huge donation," Woody rambled.
"What if I told my father about you? I told him what they were planning to do. Maybe I was planning to disappear . . . maybe go back home to my family?" I asked.
"It was time for your monthly pay off . . . but you told me that you were backing out of our deal," Woody said.
"I told you to leave my dad alone. I didn't want to do this anymore," I replied.
"I told you I wanted to talk to you . . . we would have a nice meal . . . I took you back to campaign headquarters," Woody said.
"We fought . . . no one else was in the building. I scratched you . . . you were bigger than me," I replied.
"I hit you in the back of the head . . . with . . . something off my desk . . . I hadn't intended to murder you," Woody replied.
"I crumpled to the ground . . . face down," I replied.
"I flipped you over and strangled you . . . I was really pissed . . . I was yelling at you. I took you out the service elevator . . . I knew there weren't any cameras back there. I dumped you by the river," Woody replied.
"Why did you kill everyone else?" I asked.
"They threatened to expose Candice . . . her line of work, how much she charged, and who her father was . . . it wasn't the right time," Woody replied.
"Does this seem right?" I asked . . . excited that maybe this was the lead we needed.
"Maybe . . . Jordan, feel better. I should get going . . . see if I can get a search warrant and bank records for the campaign," Woody said as he stood up . . . began to walk to the door.
"I'm going with you," I said as I tried to push myself out of the bed . . . my body ached.
"Jordan, no . . . I promised Max. You need to stay here," Woody said as he tried to help me back into bed, "Jordan, I'll wake up Garrett and make him sit with you."
"Woody, you'll need someone to process the office . . . Nigel can do the computer work . . . Woody, let me help . . . I need to do this," I pleaded.
"Jordan, no. Could you please listen to me this time?" Woody asked as he sat on the edge of my hospital bed . . . I began to cry . . . I hated crying . . . I hated it more when people saw me cry . . . I tried to hold it in.
He wrapped his arms around me . . . letting me sob. I wasn't really sure what I was crying about . . . Elizabeth Perkins . . . Candice Ellington . . . me . . . the other girls . . . the fact that I couldn't be involved in the investigation. I thought of Elizabeth . . . what I had done to her . . . I should have listened to Woody . . . maybe even common sense. I wondered if I made things worse . . . what would happen when I went home. I could smell his cologne . . . I choked on my sobs . . . my head hurt . . . my throat hurt. I could feel Woody's arms around me . . . one gently stroking my hair. He whispered in my ear . . . every thing would be okay . . . it wasn't okay.
Day 14: Max's House
"Dad, I want to go home," I said as I helped him make macaroni and cheese for supper.
"The doctor said to keep an eye on you for a few days . . . Jordan, you want a hot dog?" Max asked as he stirred the neon orange concoction . . . I said I felt like a child again . . . Dad replied that I would have needed to be an adult to be able to revert to being a child.
"Jordan, I want you to move in with me for a few weeks . . . just to make sure that you are safe," Dad said as he dished out the macaroni . . . cut up my hot dog like he did when I was a little girl.
"Dad, it's going to be okay . . . you should be getting ready to go man the bar," I commented as I picked at my food.
"Not until Woody gets here," Dad said.
"Dad, I don't need a baby-sitter," I complained.
"Jordan, someone tried to murder you . . . I am not letting you alone just yet. Jordan, you are my only girl . . . you'll have to put up with this until I die," Max kidded, "This crap tastes rotten."
"Pepperoni and extra cheese?" I asked.
"You call . . . I'll get rid of this stuff," I said as I pushed my plate towards Dad.
The doorbell rang . . . my heart began to pound inside my chest. Dad said that he would get the door . . . I followed him to the door . . . like a child I hid behind him. I scolded myself for being so scared . . . for letting this man . . . that floating figure terrorize me in my home. I sighed when Dad let Woody into the house . . . Dad told me he would pick up some food on the way to the bar . . . I should still order a pizza . . . he would leave me money . . . I was thirteen years old again. Dad pulled Woody into the kitchen . . . I could hear them talking as I called for my pizza. I heard something about not letting me out of his sight . . . Dad said he trusted Woody . . . now I was reliving the night of my prom. I was ready to go home.
"Jordan, sweetheart, call me if you need anything. Make sure to keep the doors locked . . . take your medicine tonight before you go to bed," Dad rambled as he kissed me on the cheek, "Woody, you watch her."
We watched him walk out the door . . . I locked all the locks on the door.
"I just relived the days when the neighbor girl used to baby-sit me . . . not to mention the night Eddie took me to the prom. Woody, I'm sorry . . . if you have somewhere else to be, you should go," I said as I retreated to the couch . . . Woody following close behind me.
"Jordan, I promised Max," Woody said, "What do you want to watch?"
"I'm sick of watching TV. Could you tell me what you found? I couldn't get a hold of Nigel," I said.
"Blood spatter . . . the guy's name is Todd Jacobson . . . he said he cut his hand a few days ago. I've been working on getting a search warrant for his body . . . I want to look for scratches," Woody said as he flipped through the channels.
"What about Richards? What does he have to say?"
"His alibi is air-tight . . . most of the murders coincide with TV appearances and rallies. It's not him . . . I'd bet all my money on Jacobson," Woody replied.
"Financial records?"
"Peter is working on them . . . he's going to stop by tonight to fill me in . . . I thought you would appreciate a little update on the case," Woody said smiling.
"You're good," I commented.