1000 Miles From Nowhere
---- CHAPTER THREE ----
Garret looked at the clock sitting on the corner of his desk. It was already ten, with no sign of Jordan. She was supposed to be in at nine-thirty. Yeah, she was normally late, but she usually would at least try and call. But last night she had seemed so exhausted and worn out - she was probably just sleeping in.
"Hey Boss, I need your help with something in autopsy one...you got a minute?" Sydney poked his head in the door of Garret's office. "I can't figure something out and was wondering if I could get your opinion on it."
"Sure thing Sydney." Garret stood up and stepped around his desk, then walked down the hall, his thoughts and concerns about Jordan pushed to the back of his mind as Sydney filled his brain with words and numbers. He would worry about Jordan later, right now, his job was to find cause of death for the bodies in his morgue.
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"Dr. M. do you have any bloody clue where Jordan is?" Nigel walked into autopsy one a little over an hour later, looking at Garret who was slicing open a liver, Sydney watching him closely. "She's not in her office, did she get called on scene already?"
"She shouldn't be." Garret shook his head and pointed out the scarring damage, brought on by alcohol. "See, the scars are in layers, not clumps."
"She's not here Garret." Nigel stood there, fidgeting. "I've called her cell and her pager and the loft, all with no answer. I'm about to go over and bust down the damn door."
"I'll go." Garret pulled his gloves off, tossing them in the trashcan before going to the sink. "Sydney, get him closed up, we're done. I was just showing you the difference in clump scarring and layered scarring."
"Okay Boss." The young man nodded and then walked to the cabinet to get suture materials. "Will do."
With a nod, Garret followed Nigel out into the hall. "She's not answering anything?" When Nigel nodded, he sighed softly. "She had better hope she overslept with headphones on real loud if I have to come bust down her door." He grabbed his jacket and keys. "I'll call you if she's not there." He turned and walked towards the elevator, flipping through his keys. Jordan had given him a key to the loft once, just in case something ever happened. As he stepped in the elevator, he leaned his head back against the wall as the doors slid shut.
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"Jordan?" Garret pushed the door to the loft open, and shut it gently behind him. He glanced around the darkened room and noticed the kitchen cabinets were open as he headed for her bedroom. The door was ajar, so he called her name again as he pushed it open.
The instant he saw several pieces of clothing on her bed, her drawers pulled open, he knew. She was gone.
"Shit." He muttered to himself, before going into the bathroom. Yep. Toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner, blowdryer...and her makeup. All gone. He grabbed his phone off his belt and dialed Nigel's cell.
"Townsend."
"Nigel, she's gone. She ran again." Garret tapped his fingertips on the doorframe of the bathroom with a sigh. "She took clothes, shampoo, makeup, everything. Just what she needed and she's gone. Her car wasn't in the lot either."
"I'm on it."
"Track her Nigel. It may be quiet, but start tracking her now. We need all the information we can get." He turned around and spied something white taped to her guitar case. "I'll be at the morgue in a few."
"Alright Garret. I've got it."
As the line went dead, Garret walked over to the guitar case and pulled off a piece of paper. Turning it over, he read what was on it.
Garret -
I know you're probably about to kill me right now, but let me explain. If you've found your way here and it's the day after the night we had at the bar, I know you too well. Don't be too mad at me, please. I just...I needed some time to clear my head and get away from it all. I've hurt too many people and I'm afraid of who I'm going to drive away next. Mom, Devan, and now Woody. I can't do that to anyone else. Not you or Nigel or anyone. No I haven't been kidnapped, and I'm not hurt.
I'm not going to tell you not to track me, because I know it's pointless. Five bucks you just got off the phone with Nigel and he's running every search known to man for my credit card and my name. But I'm going to be using cash, A LOT, so don't give yourself a bleeding ulcer and a migrane trying to find me. You're probably wondering why this was taped to my guitar case too.
Keep it warm for me, Bones. Yeah I know the drums are your thing but I trust a fellow musician with my baby. Take it with you, please? Consider it proof that I'll be back for it sometime. 'Cause God only knows I'd leave it in my loft all by itself only if I was dead or maimed in some way. And sorry I just took off and didn't call you, I know you're mad at yourself right now for not stopping me and keeping me here in Boston, but I just need to figure out what I want and what I need. I promise you I'll call if I need anything. Then again, giving me a raise would probably bring me back too. I'll see you soon.
Love, Jordan.
P.S. - Water my plant for me. Not like there's any chance in hell it's still alive, but then at least it's your fault when it croaks.
Garret just stared at the letter for a long minute before pocketing it and grabbing her guitar. When they found her...if they found her...he was going to have to have a long talk with her. Explain a few things about the idea of vacation time and it's uses and benefits. He carried the guitar case out and locked the door behind him, then headed back to the morgue.
Once he arrived, he went straight for the office Nigel shared with Bug.
The lanky Brit looked like he was in the middle of a war zone. His desktop computer was running a track on Jordan's credit card activity, his laptop was set on the desk next to that and was running a track on her bank accounts, and he was on the phone with someone. Nigel glanced up at him and noticed that he was holding Jordan's guitar case. "She left...her guitar?" He ran a hand over his face. "This isn't good."
"I'm well aware of that fact, Nigel." Garret sighed angrily and then turned. "Come tell me if we get a hit."
"I will Garret." Nigel nodded as Garret walked off down the hall, Jordan's guitar case in hand.
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---- Pittsburgh, PA ----
Jordan yawned tiredly and rubbed her eyes. Sure it was in the middle of the afternoon, but she needed coffee and she needed it now. She'd taken a nap somewhere around New York for an hour, and had driven non-stop like a bat out of hell ever since. Pulling into the Starbucks parking lot, once she'd parked, she opened her wallet and groaned when she was confronted with a single dollar bill. She'd spent the rest of cash on gas and snacks, the wrappers of which now littered the interior of the car. With another yawn, she grabbed her credit card and climbed out of the El Camino, slamming the door shut and pocketing her keys.
She made it into the coffeeshop, ordered her coffee, and handed the barista her card. "Charge it."
---- Boston, MA ----
Nigel blinked as the program stopped running, a red dot appearing on the map of the United States it had on the screen. He grabbed at his mouse and clicked on the dot, pulling up the information. He got the address and jotted it to memory, before getting up and bolting down to Garret's office. He opened the door and looked at Garret, who was staring off into space.
"She's at a Starbucks in Pittsburgh." When Garret just looked at him, Nigel smiled. "Mocha soy latte with non-fat whip...?"
"Thanks Nigel." Garret sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Let her run."
"What?" Nigel stopped in his tracks and looked at Garret, confused. "Shouldn't we go..."
"Nah. I trust her." Garret nodded slowly, his eyes falling to her guitar, which he'd removed from it's case and set down on his couch. Softly, he spoke. "Let her run. Just track her and we'll see where she goes. If she gets too settled in one spot, then we'll figure something out. But right now, she's putting as many miles between herself and Boston as she can. She needs to do what she needs to do. Just keep following her."
"Alright." Nigel turned and left, shutting the door behind him.
"Jordan...why did you run this time...what sent you over the edge?" Garret sat with his head in his hands, thinking to himself silently as he rubbed at his temples. What was it. What had Woody said to her that had pushed her over that edge and made her run again? He no clue. He got an idea - he'd call him.
Garret dialed the number for the PD, and when Eddie answered the phone at Woody's extension, he was confused. Until Eddie told him that Woody was gone. Left to Kewaunee for good - back to the department out there. His jaw nearly dropped, before he thanked Eddie and hung up. Woody was gone.
He'd left her. That's what she meant about Woody in the letter. He pulled it out of his pocket and smoothed it out on the desk in front of him, her familiar handwriting scrawled across the page. He read over it again. One line stuck out in his mind.
I know you're mad at yourself right now for not stopping me and keeping me here in Boston...
"Understatement of the year, Jordan." Garret muttered angrily and slammed his fist down on the letter. "Why the hell didn't you call me? I would have come. I would have stopped you." He dropped his forehead to the desk with a sigh, before his pager went off. He didn't even bother checking it as he stood up, grabbing his coat and walking for the elevators. Only when he was crossing the parking lot to the Explorer, did he bother to look where the body was.
He went, picked up the body, autopsied it back at the morgue, and filled out all the paperwork. Nigel had come in once to say that she had withdrawn some more cash in Pittsburgh, but other than that, there was nothing so far. Garret waited around, filling a glass with scotch and sipping off it, sitting in his office, playing a soft jazz album on his record player. He knew it was pointless to sit around and wait, but tell that to Nigel.
Nigel was constantly running tracking on the credit card, the debit card, her bank accounts, hotel, motel, and campground registrations across the country, as well as plotting her course on a large map of the United States that he'd printed up and taped to the glass above his computer. He got a hit, he wrote the time, how long it'd been since the previous one, and where exactly she was. So far, he had three dots. Boston, and two overlapping dots in Pittsburgh. He checked his watch for what seemed like the millionth time that night - it had been almost ten hours since her last hit was reported. "Come on Love...where are you..." He leaned back in his chair, and soon fell asleep.
Garret wandered down the hall a few hours later, and stopped when he saw a blinking red dot on the screen, and Nigel asleep. "Nigel." He shook his shoulder to wake him up.
"I wasn't asleep! I swear!" Nigel jumped up and then rubbed his eyes.
"St. Louis?"
"What?" Nigel looked up at Garret, who pointed at the screen. "Another hit."
"God damn she's driving fast."
"Not really, she's just not stopping often. It takes a little over nine hours to go from Pittsburgh to St. Louis...and according to my time, her last hit was thirteen hours ago." He quickly clicked on the dot and waited for the information to load. "Motel 6, St. Louis." He smiled up at Garret. "Least she's sleeping." Nigel grabbed another dot and stuck it on the map over St. Louis. "There."
Garret nodded with a yawn. "Come on Nigel. She's not going anywhere. Let's get out of here." He pulled on Nigel's shirt sleeve gently. "She's okay. I promise."
"Let me just write this down. Then I'll go."
Nodding, Garret turned and went back to his office, taking a look at the guitar as he flicked the lights off and pulled the door shut, locking it. He walked back down to where Nigel was standing up, having turned off the monitor but leaving a note taped to it, claiming if anyone touched it or turned it off they would suffer under penalty of death. "We'll keep this up tomorrow morning." He smiled at Nigel as they walked towards the elevators. "We're doing good so far."
"Lets just hope she doesn't go silent for a week like she did last time." Nigel laughed as the doors slid shut, then leaned his head against the wall. "I reckon I didn't sleep more than five hours that whole bloody week."
"Same." Garret nodded and yawned again. Once they had made their way to the parking lot, he looked over at Nigel as he pulled his helmet on and climbed onto his motorcycle. "Drive safe. I need to you work those damn computers."
"Yes sir. Goodnight Garret." Nigel laughed as he started the engine, then roared off towards his apartment.
Garret sighed as he reached his car, and unlocked the door. He paused, and tilted his head back to look up at the stars. You couldn't see many from the middle of the city, but the few he could see gave him a little bit of comfort, the fact being that she could very well be looking at those same stars. "Goodnight Jordan." He whispered softly at the sky, before climbing in his car and heading for home.
TBC.
A/N - Some reason - won't put the line breaks in this chapter. Something about a script error. So you get dashes. Bear with me folks, at least it's an update.