Jordan leaned against the cherry red Honda accord behind her, her elbows resting against the cool paint of the hood; she shielded her eyes from the glare of the morning sun. Woody was near her, she could feel the heat radiating from his body against her. Lily and Nigel were talking animatedly, Nigel perched on the trunk listening avidly to Lily speak in high, spirited tones.

"Come On Peter!" Jordan screeched, patience was never her strong quality. Peter came bounding down the stairs, his lace caught under his sneaker and he flew forward, falling flat on his stomach at the bottom. Bug, who was sitting in the passenger seat, leaned over and slammed his fist into the middle of the steering wheel, blaring the horn, sending everyone scattering.

"Jesus Christ Bug!" Woody shouted, kicking the wheel of the car in frustration.

"Sorry." He replied innocently, giving Woody a smug smirk. "Now get in the car, we're going to be late."

Woody helped Tyler stand from where she sat on the pavement, wiping herself off.

"I say we leave without him." Lily stated, climbing into the backseat in between Jordan and Nigel. Tyler, Peter and Woody would be taking a cheap Ford truck that they rented along with the Honda.

Jordan tried to avert her gaze from Woody, where he stood in his jeans and old T shirt that was just tight enough to see his ripped abs. Then she gazed at Tyler, in her black blouse that hung just off the shoulders and pinstriped suit pants, they looked complete opposites, they didn't fit. Jordan looked down at her hands, all painted up with red fingernail polish, she almost never painted her fingernails, but after seeing Woody and Tyler together, she started to do things she wouldn't before, weighing herself, and once she caught herself in a cosmetics isle, browsing for perfume.

"What's the matter Jordan?" Lily asked, snapping Jordan out of her thoughts.

"Oh, Nothing, its nothing." Jordan tried to play it off, but her honey eyes spoke themselves, telling a story all their own.

"Come on Love, tell Uncle Nigel everything." Nigel wrapped an arm around Jordan's neck, pulling her as close to him as possible.

"It's nothing! God!" Jordan snapped pulling away from his grip.

"Oh, it's something." Lily stated, jabbing her finger in Jordan's face, Jordan slapped it away.

"Let me guess†hmmm, it's got something to do with Woodrow?" Nigel asked raising an eyebrow pointedly.

"How come whenever something's wrong, you guys automatically assume that its got something to do with me and Detective Hoyt?"

"So there is something wrong!" Nigel quipped; Jordan rolled her eyes dramatically before giving in.

"It's just" she couldn't finish her thought; she was staring out the back windshield, watching the worn Ford truck behind them, Woody driving, his eyes on the road.

"It's just that you're in love with Woody and he's with Tyler." Lily said, looking to Jordan expectantly. Jordan's head shot up, she pointed to Lily in anger.

"Hey, I am not in love with Detective Hoyt" Lily raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and nodded her head as if to say 'exactly.' She looked over to Nigel who had a silly grin pasted to his pale face. "I am not in love with Detective Hoyt!" she announced again. They leaned back satisfied in their seats.

"Scott, Scott Coleman open up police!" Woody shouted smacking the school bus yellow door with his palm. Lily, Tyler, Bug and Nigel were watching intently from the sidewalk. Jordan stood next to Woody, her eyes boring into the window, her eyes refusing to look at Woody.

"Come on Mister Coleman!" Woody yelled with an aggravated tone. "I've traveled to the sphincter of the universe to come talk to you." Woody looked up at the sky, slamming his fist into the door once more. "I know your in there, I saw you getting your mail." Suddenly the door jarred and a stout bald man appeared in the doorway.

"Can I help you?" he growled, looking Jordan up and down. Woody rolled his eyes.

"I'm detective Hoyt, this is Jordan Cavanaugh with the Massachusetts state medical examiners office did you rent a room at the La Marina'?" Woody asked an angry tone to his usually happy-go-lucky voice.

"No why?" the man opened the door a bit farther; he was dressed in a Armani suit, neat as a pin.

"Because a room key was found under a dead man."

"What the hell does that have to do with me?" he barked

"The room was registered to you." Woody quipped giving the man a self-satisfied smirk. Scott Coleman sighed heavily and moved aside to allow Woody to come in.

"Massachusetts huh? That's a long way to come. Who was killed?" he asked Woody, proffering Jordan a chair.

"Tommy Hawkins, he was found shot to death in an alleyway in Boston."

"Doesn't surprise me." The man stated offhandedly "That kid was trouble."

"What do you mean?" Woody asked, the mans wife came in, pretty as a picture, her hair in soft brown waves, tall, her eyes frosted blue.

"He was on heroin, cocaine you name it he used it." Woody jotted something down in his trusty notebook and looked back up at the man.

"How do you know Mister Hawkins?"

The man removed his spectacles and set them down, rubbing his forehead with a sweaty palm.

"He was my son."