Day 32: Logan Airport
I nearly ran off the plane . . . I could see Dad, Garret and Nigel waiting near the hanger. The last few hours were agonizing – the tiny plane bounced in the wind currents. I spent most of the time clutching the armrest praying that we would make it home . . . I spent the rest of the time cursing Eddie for booking the cheapest charter flight possible. I didn't spend the last few weeks living in fear to die in a plane crash on the way back to comfort and routine.
"Jordan, are you okay? I've missed you so much . . . I don't know what to do without trouble in my life," Dad whispered in my ear . . . I began to cry.
"Dad," I whispered . . . that was all that I could get out of my mouth . . . Dad let me go . . . told me that I looked pretty good.
"Jordan, you little devil . . . I've missed you. It's just not the same in the morgue," Nigel said as he picked me up . . . twirled me around. I knew how much he missed me . . . he was one of my best-friends . . . being away from him was always painful.
"I'm glad your home," Garret whispered as he hugged me.
"Thank you . . . thank you for bringing me home," I whispered getting choked up on the words.
"It wasn't just me . . . you wouldn't believe how people pull together when their family needs help," Garret whispered . . . my 'family' it wasn't something that I had before . . . it felt good to know that I could put my life in the hands of my co-workers . . . they were so much more than co-workers.
"Jordan, you are staying at the house with me," Dad said as he took my luggage . . . smiling as Woody took my hand . . . we walked to the waiting SUV.
"Dad, this is over . . . I'm going to my apartment . . . I'm going to be free again," I said as I climbed into the SUV.
"Jordan, are you sure?" Dad asked before he closed the door to the SUV . . . I nodded my head.
The following days were uneventful . . . I went to work . . . watched the clock until it was time to go home. I spent the evenings waiting for Woody to get done with work . . . he made me that dinner he promised me. He was a good cook . . . probably got that from his mother.
He started spending a few nights a week at my place . . . my queen size bed was much more comfortable than the full sized beds that we had frequented. I let him have a drawer in my dresser . . . it was the biggest commitment that I had ever made. He kept a toothbrush in my bathroom . . . next to mine.
I spent the night at Woody's apartment less frequently . . . it was his refuge when his workload got too heavy . . . sometimes I would stop by with supper . . . normally Broccoli and Chicken from the corner Chinese restaurant or pizza . . . sausage, onions, and green peppers. We would have supper at his dining room table . . . I would fall asleep on the couch watching him work . . . sometimes I would offer to help him . . . occasionally he would let me. Normally, he would carry me to bed . . . I would wake up in the morning when his alarm would go off.
Dad said that he approved . . . Woody was a good kid . . . someone in the relationship needed to have a good head on their shoulders. I felt bad for not spending more time with Dad . . . Dad said it was okay, but made me promise to come by Pogue for a beer every Friday night . . . it was the least that I could do.
Woody called his Mom about a week and a half after we got home . . . he told her that we were going to take it slow. He needed more time . . . you know to get together a down payment for a house . . . that he wasn't where he needed to be financially. She said she understood . . . I had never seen Woody cry like that . . . it scared me. I told him that maybe someday . . . we would have a house . . . dog . . . maybe a family. I called Susan . . . asked if she was okay . . . she said she missed us . . . said that she understood . . . I told her that Woody was doing everything right . . . he wanted to be a provider . . . I didn't have any right to deny him that . . . he wanted to be like Paul. I think she understood . . . I told her that I loved her son . . . it was the first time that I had ever said that . . . I watched him sleep with his head in my lap . . . my finger tips gently making circles on his scalp. I promised that we would be in Wisconsin for Christmas . . . Woody deserved that . . . his mother deserved that.
Hearings were set for Jacobson and Davidson . . . they passed uneventfully. DA Walcot was asked to resign . . . she did so . . . Governor O'Leary charged her with obstruction of justice . . . she plead guilty. Garret watched her hearing and her sentencing . . . all he could remember was his brief affair . . . who she was when she wasn't in her element. Ellington and Richards issued statements to the media . . . denying any knowledge of the murders. Ellington resigned from his seat in the senate . . . extortion . . . they extorted money from him . . . I was never sure what he meant by they. Richards . . . his campaign was ruined beyond repair . . . it was going to be the year of the underdog . . . a year that would go down in the history of Boston . . . in the history of Massachusetts.
It felt good to settle back into life . . . I felt safer . . . I had changed . . . I was a little more fearful . . . I built my walls slower. Woody took full advantage of that . . . asking me about my childhood . . . asking about my mother. It was almost therapeutic . . . I began seeing Dr. Stiles on a weekly basis . . . Dr. Stiles was elated . . . he said it was about time I began to talk.
Day 60: Morgue
"Jordan, these are here for you," Emmy said as she set the long white box on my desk, "I didn't peak . . . could you open them faster?"
I smiled . . . this was something Woody would do . . . something totally out of the blue. I was floored that he thought to send me roses. I opened the box . . . my jaw dropped . . . I felt extremely ill. I think I screamed . . . the roses were black . . . soaked in what appeared to be blood. This wasn't over.
My telephone rang . . . I wanted it to be Woody . . . he would know what to do. I picked up the telephone . . . I could hear the heavy breathing . . . I could hear Emmy running down the hallway to get Garret.
"Cavanaugh," I said . . . my voice faltered . . . it was foreign to me.
"You should think about getting a deadbolt on your red door . . . it would be a shame if it were your blood that was spilled," the voice said . . . it was electronically altered.
"Who are you?" I whispered . . . barely audible . . . the line went dead.
"Jordan," Garret said as he ran into my office, "What the hell is this?"
Garret told Emmy to call Woody . . . asked her to get Lily to sit with me in the conference room. He would photograph the box . . . try to get some fingerprints. I couldn't speak . . . the words were all caught in my throat.
"The phone . . . someone called," I whispered . . . I was still in my office chair.
"Who called, Jordan?" Garret asked as he stood me up . . . ushered me into the conference room.
"I don't know . . . the voice was digitally scrambled . . . said that I should get a deadbolt on my door," I whispered . . . I instinctively reached for my throat . . . the bruises had healed, but the bruises lingered as raw emotion in a vulnerable area of my body . . . a reminder of all the girls that weren't as lucky as I was.
"Jordan, my God . . . Jordan," Garret said as he embraced me . . . held me close to him . . . I began to sob . . . it wasn't over . . . I had a sick feeling in my stomach.
"Jordan, what happened?" Woody said as he walked into the conference room . . . I stood up and ran to him . . . still crying . . . crying so hard that I couldn't speak. He whispered that it was all alright . . . he was here . . . he wouldn't let anything happen to me.
Woody asked Garret to call Max . . . I needed to go somewhere safe . . . somewhere where I would have an armed guard . . . full-time . . . I needed to relinquish my freedom again. I wouldn't let go of Woody . . . he had to peal me off of him . . . he handed me over to Lily and Nigel . . . while he went to check out my office.
I whispered to Lily that I was feeling sick . . . I spent what felt like hours vomiting in the restroom.
Woody's POV
Emmy filled me in on what she saw . . . a delivery man in khaki pants and a green polo shirt . . . non-descript. There was nothing that stood out about the man . . . she didn't need to sign for the delivery . . . he just disappeared. Bug was looking over the video from the security cameras.
Lily told me that Jordan wasn't doing well . . . she was in the restroom vomiting. I didn't know what to do to help her . . . I wasn't sure if it was better for me to be here working on the case or taking Jordan home. I was relieved to see Max . . . he sat with Jordan . . . until she was sleeping in Garret's office . . . it was best to leave her here for now.
"Emmy, she got the flowers then a telephone call minutes later?" I asked to clarify.
"The phone started ringing seconds after she opened the box . . . I went down the hallway to get Dr. Macy," Emmy stammered . . . she was nearly as shaken up as Jordan.
"Garret, what did the caller say?" I asked.
"That she needed to put a deadbolt on her apartment door," Garret replied . . . we just stared at the box of black roses saturated in pig blood . . . Nigel already took samples of the blood.
"Damn . . . I don't even know where to go with this," I replied.
"I'll get on the forensics," Garret said sounding defeated.
Day 60: Boston Police Department (Woody's POV) 10 pm
"Jordan, please try to get some sleep . . . Nigel is going to stay with you tonight. You are going to be perfectly fine," I said into the telephone . . . Max called me . . . said that Jordan would even think of going to bed unless she knew that I was okay . . . he said something was bothering her . . . she kept going on about this unsettled feeling she had.
"Please come by . . . I want you here with me," Jordan pleaded . . . I could hear her trying to stifle the crying . . . Max said that she had spent most of the afternoon crying.
"Jordan, I'm going to my apartment to catch a few hours of sleep . . . then I'm back here . . . I'm not going to let this afternoon go unanswered," I replied . . . I was angry . . . I thought that this was all behind us . . . we caught the bad guys, but this time it refused to go away.
"Woody, please . . . I don't want you to be alone," Jordan pleaded becoming hysterical again.
"Jordan, you stay with Nigel . . . I want you to call if you need anything . . . I'll have an armed guard circling the neighborhood . . . Eddie is personally going to do some of the patrols," I reassured Jordan . . . my head was killing me . . . I wouldn't be of any use to her tonight.
"Woody, please be careful . . . please promise me . . . please, Woody," Jordan pleaded . . . I could hear Max trying desperately to calm her down . . . it wasn't working.
"Jordan, I want you to go to sleep . . . I'm going to come see you first thing in the morning . . . I still have a few more hours of work to do," I said with a sigh, "Jordan, you know . . . you know that I love you . . . I'm going to make this go away no matter what I need to do. Tomorrow night, we'll be in your bed . . . not worrying about deadbolts and politicians."
"Woody, I love you too . . . please come stay with me . . . I only feel safe when you are with me," Jordan pleaded.
"Jordan . . . no . . . I've got to work. Go get some sleep . . . you'll see me at five in the morning . . . I promise I'll be careful," I said . . . she agreed . . . she handed over the telephone to Nigel . . . Nigel said that he would take good care of Jordan.
My head throbbed . . . phone records . . . financial records . . . they all made my head spin. The only thing that I was clear on is that at noon a large amount of money was withdrawn from Ellington's campaign account . . . I wasn't sure exactly where that money went . . . all I could think was a hitman. Jacobson and Davidson were in jail . . . I actually called to make sure.
Nigel and Bug poured over fingerprints . . . everything was too smudged. Garret poured over the surveillance film . . . there was nothing description about this person . . . he seemed to fit right in. Phone records . . . the call was too short to be traced . . . I asked the telephone company to try harder . . . they said that they had five seconds to work with . . . calls under ten seconds are extremely difficult to trace.
I glanced at the clock . . . I wasn't sure where the last four hours went . . . I might have dozed off . . . more likely I was so fixated on the case file that I didn't notice the passage of time. I gathered my things and headed out to my car . . . I felt vulnerable in the parking structure. I looked under my car . . . the K9 unit brought one of the dogs out . . . everyone knew if Jordan was a target . . . I was most likely next on the list.
I drove home in a trance-like state. My headache worsening . . . I locked my door. I was thankful that they lady that used to live in my apartment had installed extra locks . . . deadbolt, latch, and chain. I was on the eighth floor . . . I wasn't terribly concerned with someone climbing the fire escape . . . I was pretty sure that they weren't well maintained . . . not much in this apartment was well-maintained.
I crawled under the sheets . . . I could smell her on the sheets . . . jasmine . . . picked at night when the blooms upon . . . rare . . . exotic . . . sensual . . . just like her. I fell asleep easily . . . sleep soothed my aching head . . . too soon my alarm would wake me . . . I could see her . . . assure her that we were both going to be okay.
Day 61: Max's House (2 am)
I was startled by the sound of breaking glass . . . drawn out of my sleep. Nigel went to investigate . . . he had been dozing in bed next to me . . . I asked him to hold me. I called for him . . . I called out for Daddy . . . there had been few times in my life that I felt this scared.
I heard dishes break . . . pots and pans fall to the floor. I reached for my car keys . . . and ran down the back staircase . . . I ran to Nigel. I could see him laying on the floor not moving . . . I ran to him . . . he still had a pulse . . . he was still breathing . . . just knocked out.
I heard footsteps behind me . . . they were slightly louder than the pounding in my chest. I felt the knife collide with my arm . . . cutting my shirt . . . piercing my skin . . . I felt the warmth flow down my arm. I ran . . . I ran as fast as I could . . . ran outside . . . I was faster than this one . . . it wasn't like Jacobson . . . this one was so much slower.
My arm hurt . . . I began to run to Woody . . . I knew that it was too far for me to run . . . it was miles . . . I just needed to get to a well-lit, busy place . . . I could call 911 for Nigel and I could call Woody. My chest began to hurt . . . I hadn't been running since the first attack . . . it was one hell of a time to be de-conditioned. My bare feet thudded against the pavement . . . I ran towards the convenience store that was only a few blocks away. I cursed when I found that I was locked . . . he was still in hot pursuit . . . gaining on me . . . I was growing weary from the blood loss.
I needed to stop . . . I looked for anything that could be considered a weapon. Nothing . . . he had a knife . . . I had nothing. I began to scream for help . . . he just got closer. He began to talk to me . . . he didn't want to kill me, but it was what he was hired to do . . . he was hired to make a statement. I tried to fight . . .at least claw him in the face . . . I wanted the DNA evidence under my fingernails . . . I got it.
The knife tore through my jeans . . . cutting into my thigh . . . he said that I wouldn't be running anywhere. He dragged my body . . .still screaming behind the convenience store . . .he kicked me hard in the ribs . . . I could no longer talk. He asked if I had any last words . . . I couldn't speak even if I wanted to . . . I wanted to scream for Woody. I knew that I would die thinking of him. I saw the man lift something above his head . . . I could feel immense force on my skull . . . reopening the area that had recently healed . . . everything went black.
Day 61: Woody's Apartment (4:00 am)
The telephone roused me from my sleep . . . I hated to answer the telephone . . . I didn't even want to know what it was about. I felt nauseated . . . my mouth went dry . . . the first thing I thought about was Jordan.
"Detective Hoyt," I said into the receiver.
"You've got to get to Max's house," Eddie said nervously.
"What happened?" I asked as I bolted out of bed . . . trying to dress myself while still on the telephone.
"Someone broke in . . . Max found Nigel unconscious on the floor . . . Jordan is missing . . . there's blood all over the place. Woody, I don't feel good about this," Eddie said . . . I could feel the nausea rising in my throat . . . I said that I would be there in fifteen minutes.
I looked in the bathroom mirror . . . I looked like I had been through a battle zone. I tried to straighten my wild mass of tangled hair . . . I washed my face . . . every time I thought of her . . . I felt worse. I should have just went over there . . . I vomited in the sink . . . I couldn't even begin to picture the crime scene. If Eddie said it was bad . . . it had to be gruesome. I quickly brushed my teeth . . . the scent of vomit lingering in my throat.
I slipped on my shoes . . . gathered my cell phone, keys, and wallet . . . opened my apartment door. I wasn't prepared to see her on my doorstep . . . she wasn't moving. I shook her . . . I begged to her wake up . . . she was still breathing . . . barely . . . she was cool to the touch. I called 911 . . . begged them to come fast. I held her in my arms . . . apologized for not staying with her last night . . . told her that I loved her . . . reassured her that she would be okay.
The blood . . . I didn't even know where all the blood was coming from. Her gray t-shirt was primarily brown . . . some blood still trickled down her arm . . . I tried to put pressure on her arm . . . the blood seeped into my suit jacket . . . saturating my dress shirt . . . cooling my skin. I felt sick again.
I kissed her forehead . . . begged her to hang on. I could hear the sirens . . . I held her closer to me. It was only going to be a matter of minutes . . . she needed to hold on . . . I wasn't going to let her go.
I gratefully handed her over to the paramedics . . . I tried to help them . . . cutting her shirt . . . exposing her bare breasts to the world . . . I put pressure on the wound on her upper arms. I watched as they cut her sweatpants offs . . . there were more wounds on her thighs. I noticed her head . . . they broke open her previous wound . . . the one from Dalton Park. I asked to ride with the paramedics . . . they told me no . . . this was a critical case . . . they would need the room to work.
I was greeted by patrol officers . . . I called Eddie . . . told him I was going to the hospital . . . someone else had to be in charge of the crime scene at my apartment. He told me to go . . . to make sure that she was okay . . . to find out how Nigel was doing. I asked him to tell Max and Garret . . . he replied that they were working at the crime scene in the Cavanaugh House . . . he would tell them.
I raced to the hospital . . . waiting to see what damage had been done.