Chapter Four

It was Woody that had heard the news first…that Baker had finally gotten a judge to agree to sign off on the warrants to search Max's house and get a DNA sample from Jordan. He knew he had to get to her before the officers did. He tried her cell phone, but it went to voice mail. He tried the morgue numbers. Lily said she was in autopsy. "I've got to talk to her…ASAP, Lily," he had said…the panic in his voice evident.

Lily promised to get in touch with Jordan. In a matter of minutes, she had called him back. "They're at your father's house," he had told her, "They're searching for something…anything…that would give them a DNA sample."

"Good luck," Jordan had replied. "The house has been cleaned out for months…Dad took all his combs, hairbrushes…toothbrushes…shaving supplies. If there's any DNA left in the drain traps, it's contaminated. And the house has been cleaned top to bottom since he's left…beds stripped, carpets cleaned, everything…I was planning on renting the house out. Everything's gone."

And she had been right. The DA could not get a straight DNA sample for Max anywhere in the house. In frustration, the DA had put out an APB on Max and came up empty. He was seemingly no where to be found…bank accounts having been cleaned out long ago and no current activity on any of his existing credit cards. If Jordan had learned how to run and hide effectively, she had learned from the master – her father.

It was then Baker narrowed his search to just Jordan. He was determined that somewhere behind those whiskey-colored eyes, she knew all the answers. Woody was there when they had picked her up for questioning. He had requested that he be the one to come and take her from the morgue. But he refused to cuff her. "She's not being arrested…she's not being charged. She's just being questioned," was his reply to the DA. "She won't run with me here."

And she didn't. She had just looked at him with eyes so full of pain that he could hardly bear it. "This is not my idea," he had whispered to her in the elevator."

"I know," she had replied softly. "I just thought this whole damn mess was behind us."

He wasn't allowed to talk to Jordan, but sat behind the interrogation room, watching through the two-way mirror. Baker was ruthless in his questioning. For hours Jordan answered his inquiries…professionally and calmly. It wasn't until Baker had mentioned the possible exhumation of her mother for mitochondrial DNA matches that she lost it.

She was tired…tired from being in court, testifying earlier that day. She hadn't even had chance to change. She was still in her dress, hose, and high heels. Woody knew this made her even more uncomfortable and somehow, Jordan in a dress…looking so feminine…appeared even more vulnerable.

The endless questioning had frazzled her. She was offered nothing to drink…only given one bathroom break. The possible exhumation broke her. She dissolved in tears…which was what Baker had wanted from the beginning. "Don't," she had begged. "Please. What's possibly buried with her, I don't want to know. I've told you everything…compare it with my earlier testimony from two years ago. Nothing's changed. The evidence hasn't changed. I haven't changed."

But that wouldn't dissuade the DA. "We have to have answers. The chief-of-police can't be murdered without some answers. I think you did it. I think you were the one that pulled the trigger. I think it's all wrapped up in the neat little package of your paternity. Malden slept with your mother. Your mother had two children by him…you and James. And since James technically doesn't exist on paper, he really doesn't exist at all. That leaves you and your father working together….to get back at Malden and what he did. You found the money. You found Cahill. You are the connection. You're the link."

The door had cracked open to the room Woody was in. It was Dr. Macy. "Have you come to watch this mess?" Woody had asked. He had assumed Garret was there for moral support.

Garret sighed and suddenly looked haggard. "No. I'm here to pull a DNA sample from Jordan. Court order."

Woody had paled. Next thing he knew Garret was in the room with Jordan and Baker was telling her exactly what had to happen. She had looked at the DA and Garret in disbelief. "I'm sorry, Jordan," Garret had said. "I have to." He wanted to do this himself…hoping that in someway, this would make it easier on her…He didn't want Nigel or Bug to have to deal with this memory. It would be harder for Jordan to be mad at him.

"I know," she had said, somewhat meekly submitting to Garret. It was at that point, Woody had to leave. He had to, or he was going to go into that interrogation room and punch the DA's lights out. Woody knew what the man was up to…trying to establish that Malden was indeed, Jordan's father. He couldn't watch Garret pluck the hairs from her head, or swab the inside of her cheek for cells. He had left. Gone back to his apartment.

And it was there she had run to a few hours later. After the DNA samples were pulled, she asked if she was free to go. The DA had nodded. She got in her El Camino and went to Woody's apartment. It had been pouring down rain. She stood outside for a long time, getting soaked to the skin…thinking about what now had to happen.

When she had rung his doorbell, and he saw how broken she truly was over the possibility of what she may soon learn about her paternity, Woody couldn't help himself. With no thought that his actions were being caught on the security cameras of his apartment building the police could reference in the future…with no thought of what may happen to him as well as her, he had pulled her inside and held her. She soaked his shirt with her tears and her wet clothes. He hadn't cared. He just needed to ease her pain. He had held her, tried to dry her tears, and tried to tell her everything would be all right…but the words stuck in his throat. He couldn't promise something he didn't think would happen. He had gently kissed her…but she wasn't satisfied with that. She had kissed him back…and the passion had soared. Before he really knew what was happening, his hands were on the zipper of her dress and he slid it down. Her dress, half slip and bra had quickly joined the soggy mass on the floor.

He had made love to her…for the first time, and unbeknown to him, for the last time. She had clung to him, as if letting go of him would somehow cause her to lose her way…He had cherished that…and her….and never wanted it to end. But in the morning…when he woke…she was gone. No note. No nothing. He found her dress still on his living room floor. He had hung it up to dry and now had it in his closet. Her perfume lingered…He didn't miss his sweat pants and t-shirt for a few more days and realized they had gone with her, wherever she was at. He hoped she would wear them and be reminded of him…he hoped she would remember that he loved her.

She was gone by the time the DNA samples came back. The ones that Dr. Macy processed himself. He wouldn't allow Bug or Nigel to do it. He didn't want to put them in that predicament. As a matter of fact, he didn't even know if Jordan's DNA matched Malden's. He had shut down his computer screen before the results came up, printed out the report, folded it in half, shoved it in an envelope, sealed it, and delivered it to Baker's office himself. That way, if Jordan ever did ask him about it, he could plead honest ignorance.

It hadn't taken any of them long to figure out what happened. After Jordan had left that night, she had phoned her lawyer to make sure she wasn't being charged…Bill had told her no, there wasn't enough evidence. "Can I go?" she must have asked. He had answered affirmatively. So she had.

Woody understood why she did this, as did Garret. Garret missed her nearly as much as Woody. He loved the ME that was like a kid sister to him. She was irreplaceable – which is why it took him three months to hire another one after she left. He hoped one day she would come home…back to Boston…back to the morgue…back to the people that loved her. But he understood why she had to leave, and for now that was the best thing for her. If she had stayed in Boston much longer, Baker would have railroaded her into jail time.