Jordan sighed and sat back in her seat on the airplane. She had gotten through the night and through the morning. She had half-way expected to see Woody at her last presentation, but he had been nowhere in sight. In a way she was glad...and in a way she was disappointed. He had definitely taken her by surprise last night...and not in a good way. The last person she had expected to talk to in a hotel bar in Chicago was Woodrow Wilson Hoyt.

How long had it been? Eight years. A long time. A life time, by some accounts. It was for her and how much those years had changed her. She had grown up, she had matured. She was an adult now in every sense of the word. She had her own house now...not an apartment. She still owned the bar...a very profitable bar. And she was now just under Garrett's rank at the morgue. The understanding was, when he retired, she would be the chief medical examiner. She smiled softly to herself. She had worked hard for that. She deserved it.

She looked out the window of the airplane at the landscape slipping by below her. Chicago...why of all places did he have to have a few days off in Chicago? Is it mere coincidence? Surely he doesn't know more than he is letting on.... He would have said something outright...at least the old Woody would have... She felt herself dozing off. She hadn't rested well last night after seeing him...and reliving the memories. She had tossed and turned, remembering his touch...his caresses...his kisses, only finally slipping off to sleep a mere two hours before her wake up call.

The stewardess's voice announcing their flight landing in Boston woke Jordan up. She disembarked, retrieved her bags and made her way to her car. Climbing in, she headed for her father's house.

Max had come back to Boston a few months after Woody had left. Jordan's emotional life was shattered and Garrett had sought him out, telling him that Jordan needed her father in the worse possible way. She was a wreck and with no emotional anchor in the city, Garrett was deathly afraid she would run again...and this time no one would be able to bring her back. Max had immediately returned home and took Jordan back into his house to get her back on her feet. "You can win this thing," he had told her. "You're bigger than it is."

And he had been right. One day, then the next. Getting through it. Bit by bit, she had regained her mental footing and flourished. She had to. She had no other choice. She bought a house near Max's and gave up her apartment. She began to make a real life for herself. Five years ago, Max had met Helen. A nice lady, a few years younger than he was, and a widow. They had been introduced at a church raffle and hit it off immediately. He had brought her home to meet Jordan. "Be nice," he had warned her daughter, whose emotional feathers were a bit rankled at the thought of another woman sharing her father's affections.

His warning never had needed to be uttered. Jordan quickly fell in love with this woman who not only adored her father thoroughly, but his daughter just as well. "I never had a daughter," she had told Jordan, "I have a son. So having you nearby is a treat...I've always wanted a daughter." Jordan had told her dad Helen was a "keeper." So Max and Helen had gotten married. And Jordan's family expanded again, to not only include a step-mother, but also a step-brother.

Helen's son's name was Randy. He was two years older than Jordan and was an orthodontist in Boston. Jordan had always thought that Helen and her dad secretly hoped she and Randy would hit it off, but it never happened. Jordan and Randy got along famously—at last she had a real big brother—but Randy's heart belonged to a young lady named Caroline. Three years ago, Randy and Caroline had married and now they were the proud parents of an infant son named Hunter. Jordan was an aunt. She smiled at the way her life had turned out...it was good.

Pulling into her father's driveway, she couldn't help but wonder differently her outcome would have been if Woody had stayed in Boston. Or if she had left Boston...That was a laugh. She could never leave Boston. At least not now. And the reason she couldn't soon came bounding down the steps of her grandfather's house.

"Mom! You're home!"

Jordan scooped up her seven year-old daughter. "Yes. I am home!" She spun Meghan around in her arms.

"Did you bring me anything?"

Jordan chuckled. "Of course, but it's in my suitcase. You'll have to wait until we get home. Have you been a good girl for Grandpa Max and Grandma Helen?"

"She's been as good as gold," Helen said, descending the steps to hug Jordan. "Did you have a good trip, dear? Are you hungry? I saved some lunch for you."

"Starved. Thanks. I appreciate it." Taking Meghan by one hand and her pocketbook in the other, she entered the house. "Is Dad here?"

"He's in his workshop. Is anything wrong, Jordan?" Helen caught the look in Jordan's eyes. She had become almost as adept as Max was about reading Jordan's moods.

"Not really. No. I just need to talk to him a minute...alone?"

Helen motioned her out and took Meghan with her into the kitchen. Jordan opened the door to Max's workshop...a part of the garage he and Helen had converted for him to tinker in. "Dad?" she called out.

"Jordan! You're home. Come here and give your old man a hug."

Walking over and hugging him, she asked, "Did Meghan give you any trouble?"

"Meghan? Trouble? You've got to be kidding. She doesn't take after her mother on that one," Max chuckled. "So how'd it go? How was Chicago and your presentations?"

Jordan quickly went on to fill him in on those and then said, "You'll never guess who I ran into at the hotel bar?"

"Who?"

"Woody."

Max was startled for a moment and was completely silent for so long, Jordan turned around and looked at him closely. "Dad? You okay?"

"Yeah. Sure. Did he say why he was there?"

"Said he had few days off and was in Chicago for a Bulls game."

"Did he ask any questions?"

"No..."

"Then all is well?"

"Not exactly. He's a special agent with the FBI in DC, Dad. He works directly for the President. He's not a body guard, but something more. He couldn't tell me exactly what because it is classified."

"So you think he may have used some of his clout to pull some strings and find out things you don't really want him to know now?"

"Yeah – the thought did cross my mind."

"Did he seem suspicious about anything?"

"No...it seemed normal. I didn't talk with him long."

"Good girl. He probably doesn't realize a thing."

"But seeing me again may have made him curious enough to try to relive his past. Then he will find out. However, he did give me his card, so I know how to get in touch with him if the need arises."

"Good. I wouldn't worry too much about it, Jordan. Chances are, he's going back to DC and his life. You won't hear anything from him again."

Jordan nodded. She could only hope he was right.