Jordan leaned back in the chair, wrapped up in her lilac silk bathrobe, her hair hung in wet clumps down her back, soaking the fabric of the chair behind her, what had made her do this to him? What was going threw her mind the night before? She remembered everything, every smell, every shadow... it was like she was in a dream, and she floated home on a cloud. She also knew in her heart what it would be like for them if they stayed together, she already pushed a fine line between them, constantly testing him, and if they we're together it would be twenty four seven, something told her that he couldn't handle that he would find out she wasn't the one and go running.
He was still asleep, she had to admit he was the cutest unconscious person in the world, he snored and she bit back a full throated laugh, he was one of the hardest sleepers she had ever seen. She stared out of the window absentmindedly, curling a long black strand of hair around her finger and pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin. She had been up since three thirty in the morning, made her coffee and collapsed in the shower, just thinking as the water rushed over her condemning her for her thoughts.
Know as she sat in the chair, stale coffee on the cheap table, her clothes and his intermingled and entwined on the floor. She could hear people outside splashing in the hotel pool; it was almost seven in the morning and outside it was sweltering. Woody rolled over and looked up at her, his silly grin causing a unwanted smile to creep up her face, she fought to swallow it. Like a revelation from the stars themselves he saw the redness in her eyes, he shot up.
"You were crying... no, no, no... no crying, be happy." He said his last line in a goofy way trying in vain to put a grin on her face.
"Woody..." her voice trailed off; just as she opened her mouth again he cut her off in a serious voice.
"No Jordan. No." he looked deep into her eyes, his hair mussed, his eyes crusted with sleep, tears fell down her face as she smiled, wiping away the sleep lightly with her soft fingertip. He smiled "you're crying..." he started off and she chuckled sadly. "And laughing?" he smiled and said right before he caught her lips in his possessively. "Positively the most confused woman I ever met." He smiled, and stood, the morning light casting shadows across his face, his blue eyes glinting with energy. "Want some cereal?" picking up the receiver of the phone. She nodded and watched him dial room service.
Woody felt her eyes on him, burning at his back, he had done his best to lighten the mood, he knew she was confused and scared, he saw the shine of unshed tears in her whiskey colored eyes. He wished he could console her, but the truth was he was just as confused and alone as she was.
It had seemed so long ago since he had left Kewaunee, to him there was no other choice, he had one choice, get aboard the airplane, and never look back. That day his mother was attacked by his father was a vague snapshot in his mind, a blur of emotions that racked his body with fear if he even thought of it. The look on his mothers face was so sorrowful, so scared, never before had she looked as young as she slid to the ground, kicking her husband away as she did. Then, he moaned, Woody was stunned, his father lay on the floor his head bleeding from the gash on the back of his neck where the blow of the cold metal baseball bat had scratched his white skin.
His mother was talking crazy, tears falling down her face as she gathered clothing and pictures, loading suitcases as Woody's father lay moaning on the floor. She pushed Woody out the door, with one more glance behind her she slammed the door, not only the door to the house but the door to her fragile heart. A heart that had been crumpled and torn apart once too many, finally after seven years the human punching bag fought back.
They picked Cal up in her old Dodge truck and drove, drove until they found Kewaunee.... Three hours from Milwaukee, and far away from the small town of Winchester Illinois, the people we're nice, his mom got a job in a local diner on main street before her bruises healed, they we're home.
"Woody are you okay." Jordan asked a little panicky, her voice catching.
"Yeah I'm fine, come on, I have to get dressed, you coming?" he held out his hand and held his breath, after a long, silent moment she took it, and he breathed again.
"Although what your wearing looks terrific." He commented, wiping her hair from her face. She smiled and leaned her head onto his shoulder for comfort.
"I'm hardly wearing anything." She said softly, looking at her thread bare robe.
"I know." He teased.
"Hi I'm Detective Hoyt, this is Jordan Cavanaugh with the medical examiner's office, I'm here to see Tony Carlson, social worker here." He told the woman at the front desk of the welfare office, she went into the back office, her eyes wary, soon a man immerged from behind a steel door, he was tall, broad and muscular, his eyes sharp and black, almost deadlike to match his dull greasy brown hair.
"How may I help you Detective?" the man asked
"Yeah you Tony Carlson?" Woody asked in a defensive tone she had never heard before.
"Yes, may I help you?" the man retorted sharply, Jordan thought it best to intervene, she could see heat rise into Woody's eyes.
"Yes, you we're the case worker for Sheryl and Kelsey Coleman right?" she asked, looking pointedly at Woody who was getting red faced, the first word that came to her mind was livid.
"Yes, cute kid." He said off handedly, Woody lunged in anger.
"Cute kid huh!" he shouted "You disgusting freak why don't you tell what you did to Kelsey!" Jordan pulled him back, he was strong, to strong for her, but her touch seemed to have a calming affect on him, he wiped his hand across his face and settled back behind Jordan, she stared at him piercingly before turning back to the stunned Carlson.
"We've heard things about you, we need to clear up... we know that you tried to..." her voice trailed off, it was taking every once of self control in her body not to attack this guy herself, her hands shook and Woody saw it. "We know that Sheryl Coleman caught you."
The man scoffed haughtily "That bitch doesn't know what she's saying, drunk half the time... she'd give it up for a Big Mac... most girls that I deal with would, nothing that she says will hold up in court."
Woody clenched his fists, Jordan saw that each second she was getting closer and closer to Armageddon and Woody would win, this guy may be twice the size of Woody but Woody was a brick house.
"Where were you on Thursday, October 5th?" Jordan asked with a wicked smile.
"At home, here with my wife." He said, staring at Woody and smiling coldly.
"Then why did you get on a plane to Boston on the fourth?" Woody asked returning the cold smile. The man was speechless as Woody smacked the gum enthusiastically, holding up a plastic bag, the contents a plane ticket.
"I... I think I need a lawyer." He said, sweat beginning to drip down his pale face.
"Damned straight, you'll defiantly need one when your fingerprints match the ones we found on Tommy Hawkins's wallet." Woody thrust the man against the wall violently.
"All you have is circumstantial," the man countered and winced at the feeling of the handcuffs being tightened against his flesh.
"I'm sure you remember Carmen Jones, Tonya Sanchez, Sarah Marvitch... just some of the girls willing to testify against Mr. Carlson." Woody flipped him around to face him, to look into his eyes. "All of them we're so scared to tell, you're like a God to these women, you have the right to take away everything, their food, their houses, even their children, and you were so sure of yourself..."
"Who cares?!" the man said a stony expression on his face. "These kids aren't cared for..." he snickered and looked Woody in the eyes. "I'm sure you think of them all the time, when you're sitting in your house, drinking your imported coffee, sleeping in your feather bed..."
"Actually I do." Woody shouted, shoving the man into one of the Vegas PD's black and white's. "Get him out of my sight."
Jordan found Woody sitting with his feet in the empty pool, shoes and a bottle of beer resting at his side, the clear water reflecting off of his face. The stars were blinking calmly in the inky night, it was humid and sultry, and the wind was dry and arid. He didn't hear her come up, she slipped off her sandels and wrapped her hand over his eyes, she felt him jump, startled.
"Hey Jordan," he said despondently, distracted.
"I thought you would be happy, you caught the bad guy." She smiled and punched him in the arm lightly.
"I..." he couldn't finish his sentence, he had his head down and his eyes diverted from hers.
"What? Woody, why is this case getting to you? You've never gotten this emotional on a case."
"My mom, was seventeen when she had me." He said softly, looking up at the multitude of stars that graced the dark sky, the blue moon hidden behind some rouge clouds, all so unfamiliar and unwelcoming, it was the same moon over Boston, the same moon over Kewaunee, so friendless and lonely.
"Wow, that's young." She whispered entranced, slipping her feet past the filmy, flat surface of the undisturbed water.
"Leah Hoyt case number 6654890." He said as if the number were sacred, something foreign that had never passed threw his lips, she was beginning to see the burns of his childhood that had been hidden for so long, rising to the surface of his blue eyes.
"Your Father ever forget to feed you? Because he was too, drunk, or tired?" he asked bitterly.
"Woody... I'm..." before she could finish he had caught her lips to his, taking them for his own. She could feel her breath go out of her as she and he fell together into the water breathlessly laughing, soaking wet, chest deep in cool water, smiling and steeling kisses, they failed to notice the four figures standing on the third floor balcony... smiling in relief and happiness.
Lily turned to Nigel with a soft smile. "Looks like you plan worked Nige, good job."
"Yeah." He said softly, "Looks like it did."