Day 14: Max's House (continued)

I hid in the corner of the room as Woody opened the door. My heart pounded and my stomach churned . . . I damned the man that did this to me. It was Peter . . . I was overjoyed to see that it was Peter. I ran to him . . . he hugged me . . . told me that I was looking a lot better . . . asked me if I was getting enough rest. I nodded . . . Peter and Nigel held me as they waited for an ambulance . . . the security guard thought that I was dead. Peter had wrapped his jacket around me . . . Nigel had held me close to him trying to keep me warm. Nigel recounted it . . . I couldn't remember it.

I sat down on the couch . . . offered Peter some pizza or a soda. I said that I would go get his soda . . . I could hear Woody and Peter talking. I was alone in the kitchen . . . I don't know why, but I turned around and looked out the small window over the sink. I saw someone floating on the grass . . . a long trench coat . . . black . . . his features were hid in the blackness.

I couldn't scream . . . I could feel my heart pounding against my chest wall. I dropped the can of soda . . . I could hear Peter and Woody talking, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. I was fixated on the figure floating towards me . . . the words were stuck in my throat . . . I wasn't even sure if I could move. I could feel myself shaking.

Woody's POV

I heard something fall in the kitchen.

"Jordan, you okay?" I called out . . . I waited several seconds for a response. I stood up from the couch . . . Peter stood up too. He asked me if I thought something was wrong . . . I walked quickly into the kitchen.

Jordan was frozen in front of the sink . . . she was staring out the window. I walked over to the window to see what she was looking at . . . something stood still twenty feet from the window.

"He floated on the grass," Jordan whispered . . . in some kind of trance . . . the figure never moved.

"Peter, stay with Jordan," I pulled my gun out of its holster . . . I ran to the back door . . . unlocked all the locks. I could hear Jordan begging me not to go . . . calling my name as I ran out of the house.

My footfalls thudded on the pavement as I ran towards the figure. I screamed that I was the police . . . he should put his hands up. The figure began to run . . . he was fast, but I was pretty sure that I was faster. I yelled again . . . he ran around the corner quickly . . . he ran into an alley way.

I stopped at the mouth of the alley . . . it was empty. It was stupid for me to go alone . . . I raised my gun. I went into the alley my back against the wall . . . the moon dimly illuminated the alley. I turned the corner . . . a figure sprinted to the end of the alley. I aimed at the ankle . . . I fired two shots . . . the figure kept running. I followed him around the corner . . . I lost him. He must have ducked into one of the ten bars on the street . . . all had multiple exits . . . I wouldn't catch him . . . tonight.

Peter's POV

Jordan clung to me . . . she was begging for Woody not to go. Jordan leaned heavily on me . . . she was screaming. I wrapped my arms around her . . . I lowered her to the kitchen floor. I wrapped my arms around her . . . held her tightly . . . she began to cry . . . she was crying so hard that she could barely breathe.

I pulled out my cell phone . . . call 911 as I tried to calm Jordan down. I tried to tell the operator the Woody went after a guy that was trespassing on the Cavanaugh property. I told her that I thought it was the guy that attacked Jordan last night.

Jordan clung to me . . . begging me to protect her.

Day 20: Morgue

"Jordan, go back home . . . I told you last night to take some more time off," Garrett lectured me as I walked passed and into my office . . . he followed me . . . closing my office door behind him.

"Jordan, go home," He looked me dead in the eyes . . . I pretended to ignore him.

"Garrett, I can't be home anymore . . . I'm slowly going crazy. I just want to do some work . . . give me a cold case to stare at for a few hours," I pleaded.

"Jordan, you stay in this office," Garrett said relenting, "Hey, I'm glad to see that you are okay. You had Peter a little freaked out."

"Yah, it wasn't one of my best moments," I replied.

"Jordan, you do know . . . you do know that I really," Garrett stammered.

"Yah, I do too," I hugged him . . . he hugged me back. I knew what he was trying to say . . . I spent most of my life trying to say the same thing . . . I did twice.

"You come get me if you need anything," Garret said as he let go of me, "Woody sent an extra guard to watch the corridor."

"I don't need that. Garrett, there are so many people around here . . . it would be too risky," I replied knowing that was a line of crap . . . he came back for me when there was a cop in my living room.

"Hey, I don't want to interrupt," Woody said as he poked his head into my office.

"Just leaving," Garrett said as he reminded me to stay in my office with the door closed . . . he would get me a case file and personally deliver it.

"How did you get here this morning?" Woody asked.

"Dad dropped me off at the curb and walked me in," I replied . . . I felt like a child, but I felt so much safer when there was some type of armed guard with me.

"Good. Jordan, there was blood in the alley," Woody said as he sat down in a chair across from me.

"You shot him?" I asked.

"His ankle . . . I must have nicked him. I'm checking hospital records today . . . I'm also turning all my information over to the DA. I think that we can issue a warrant for the arrest of Todd Jacobson," Woody said smiling, "Maybe this will all be over in a few hours."

"Thank you, Woody," I said relieved . . . thinking that maybe my life could become my own again . . . I could stop wearing the scarf around my neck . . .the bruises were still yellow and orange discolorations taking over my neck . . . the stitches wouldn't come out for a few more days . . . my hair would grow back slowly . . . thank god they only shave a little . . . a ponytail cleverly hid my wound.

"I wanted to take you out to dinner . . . I want to celebrate . . . that is if you even feel up to it," Woody asked.

"If it gets me out of Dad's spare room for a few hours, I'd go just about anywhere with you," I replied smiling . . . it was hard to be sequestered for so long . . . in the last six days, I had someone awake with me 24/7. Nigel, Peter, Bug, Woody, and Dad took turns watching me . . . doing checks of the perimeter . . . Dad showed Bug how to hold and fire a gun . . . Bug pretended to be okay with it . . . he told me that Dad scared the hell out of him.

"Jordan, I'm glad to see you out of Max's house. Just please use your head . . . call me if you need anything," Woody lectured as he stood up . . . he walked around the desk and kissed me on the forehead.

"You put yourself as number one on my speed dial," I teased.

"Yah, I did. Jordan, please be careful today," Woody repeated . . . he whispered in my ear . . . his breath hot against the scarf on my neck.

Day 20: Interrogation Room (Woody's POV)

"Mr. Jacobson, how do you explain that your DNA was underneath the nails of Candice Ellington?" I asked . . . exasperated that this little prick would not talk to me . . . he tried all his legalese . . . threatened countersuits. My sergeant told me to keep going . . . that this is what the department needed.

"I like cheap child whores . . . I picked her up that night. I wanted to have sex with her," Jacobson lied.

"Funny, there weren't any abrasions in her groin area . . . no spermicide . . . absolutely no signs of intercourse. Do you want to try explaining the DNA once more?" I pushed.

"I like it rough . . . I asked her to scratch me," he lied again.

"You wanted to be scratch on the arm . . . did you want to try once more?" I instructed.

"You don't know how deep this thing goes . . . you don't want to do this," Jacobson threatened . . . he smiled at me . . . his gaze was steely . . . he looked like some sort of weird man-child. The red hair and freckles . . . they attempted to soften what was so cold.

"Tell me what I need to know," I replied.

"That little slut approached me . . . she wanted to humiliate her father or she wanted one big payday. I knew that our budget was getting tight . . . so I signed on with the project. Abrams didn't know a thing about it," Jacobson squealed.

"The other girls?"

"They were getting in the way . . . they needed to be taken care of. They are all greedy whores . . . they wanted money in exchange for silence . . . I made them be silent," Jacobson replied . . . he face growing cold.

"Why did you kill Candice?"

"I got what I wanted . . . she wanted more . . . she threatened to expose me and her father. She needed to be dealt with," he replied.

"That seems a little cut and dry . . . I don't see how it runs deeper," I replied . . . I thought I was just thinking this . . . I didn't mean to actually say it.

"You'd be surprised," Jacobson said . . . he asked for paper to write his confession.

"You do know that I will be walking outside in the sunshine within the next three hours right . . . I'll make sure that this confession gets thrown out . . . you wouldn't believe that what politicians can do," Jacobson quipped as I left the room, "Oh, tell your girlfriend to sleep with the doors locked."

I was ready to jump over the table and kill him myself.