Chapter Nine

"Cambridge….they're sold in a convenience store in Cambridge," Nigel said, bursting through the door of Garret's office. Garret and Woody had been in the chief ME's office, going over the last six months of Jordan's case files….just to see if there was anything in them that might tip them off as to who could have done this. Unfortunately, the bulk of her case load had been the murders of the prostitutes….a closed case as far as the Boston PD was concerned.

As soon as Nigel had relayed the information about which store, Woody was on his way….The clerk was helpful….he located the number assigned to the phone, but could not remember anything about the man who purchased it. "I sell a ton of these things…but, we do have security cameras….I can roll the tape back to that day and see if I remember anything."

And the clerk did. It was middle-aged man with sandy brown hair that bought the phone. Woody noticed with some satisfaction that he had on a green jacket with a hood. He took the tape back to Nigel, who used a still frame to blow up a picture. They ran it through the computer and hit pay dirt. Charles Ray Pullman, also known as "The Banker" or "Banks" for short. He was thought to be the money man behind many of the prostitution rings in Boston. Woody swallowed hard. Jordan could be in more trouble than he had ever wanted to think about. He radioed in the information. "I need an all points bulletin put out on Charles "The Banker" Pullman. Last seen at 277 Pearle Street. He's wanted for the abduction of Dr. Jordan Marie Cavanaugh, medical examiner for the state of Massachusetts. He should be considered armed and dangerous, and holding a hostage."

Her throat was sore…and not just from the shouting she did. It hurt…as well as her head and her chest. She was getting a cold. She could feel the congestion building. Putting her hand to her forehead, she knew she had a fever, too. A soft sound caught her ears….no…not rain…not now. But it was raining…hard. She shivered and pulled the blanket up closer around her. Jordan wondered what time it was, but felt too bad to reach for the flashlight and check her watch. She rolled over on her stomach and tried to rest. Maybe she could sleep the cold off.

But she worried about the rain…she was concerned about how weather proof the box was. There was a hole in the side of the box that the man had ran the end of a pipe in. She presumed the other end of the pipe surfaced somewhere either in the building or beyond it, so she could get fresh air. What if therain came down the pipe…

By sheer luck, the police had apprehended Charles Pullman at a traffic stop. They had brought him in for questioning…and he wasn't answering anything. He had asked for his lawyer, who had run Woody and Lois out of the interrogation room.

Woody was pacing. He always paced when he was upset…or worried. Lois watched him with a cross between amusement and concern in her eyes. "We're going to find her, Woody."

"I know…just …. I want it to be now…I want to know she's okay…This guy…he's dangerous on more levels than I want to think about."

"Jordan's a strong woman, Woody."

"Yeah," he ran his fingers through his hair…"But…."

The door opened and his lawyer motioned the detectives back inside. "What if he tells you where Dr. Cavanaugh is…as well as tells you who's really running that prostitution ring on the east side?"

"I'll have to check with the DA, and then we'll have to see how credible his evidence is," Lois replied. "Meanwhile, I'm not doing anything until he tells us where the doctor is. Not even a phone call to the DA."

His lawyer whispered to him…"Okay," Charles said. "Bring me a map. You'll never be able to find it without one."

Woody shoved a map under the man's face. "You had better be accurate, you'd better be fast….and she sure as hell better be okay."

The rain was coming in the pipe….Jordan had to lie on her back. She was soaked to the skin and colder than ever….what if the box filled with water? Would she drown before the rain stopped?

Her fever was high now…she could feel it. Trying to keep her wits about her she let her mind wander back to Woody. If anyone could find her now, it was Woody. He had always found her….kept her safe…even when he was furious with her. She prayed that somehow…someway…Lois had told him about what was going on. She prayed he believed her….and that he would look for her.

She wasn't sure what evidence the man had left behind, if any. He seemed pretty thorough…he knew what he was doing. Coughs wracked her body….even if she survived this torrent of rain, chances are she was going to be sick for a while…and that would piss this guy off if he came back for her….to dig her back up….to try to sell her off. She'd be too sick and weak to care at that point…

Woody had to find her…he had to care that much, at least. If he did….if he got her out of this mess, she vowed she would leave him alone like he wanted. He really didn't need her in his life…all she did was trip him up professionally. She had nearly cost him his job more times than she wanted to remember.

Personally, she may have led him on more than she should. At first it was just a game….but later, as her feelings for him became more engaged, she wasn't sure. They flirted….teased each other…but for Jordan, love always meant losing someone. She didn't want to lose Woody.

But in the end, she had lost him anyway….He no longer wanted her. So if he found her, she would do what he asked…walk out of his life and leave him alone. He needed to find some nice Irish, Catholic girl and settle down. Someone who would love him as much as she did and keep his feet warm at night with no emotional issues to deal with.

"There…there it is," Woody said, pulling his car over on the back country road. The police surrounded the house. Woody went in first… "Police," he had shouted…but the house was empty….but on the floor was a shirt….a woman's shirt. He picked it up. Her perfume. It smelt like her perfume….she was here…somewhere. "She's here, guys…spread out and look."

"There's a building out back," said one of the officers. It was chained and locked, but the officers soon had that out of the way. Woody opened the door. "Jordan…." He yelled. "Answer me….Jordan….."

She could hear him….or at least she thought she could….she thought she heard scuffling….and yelling. Did she, or was it her fever playing tricks on her brain. Then she heard it again…"Answer me, Jordan…"

She began to yell as much as her throat would let her… "Help….I'm down here…..help me….please…."

Woody motioned for his officers to be quiet. Then he heard it again…a weak cry for help. "Down here…" he rolled the linoleum up and they began to pull up the floorboards. It took a minute longer for them to pry the top of the box off.

Jordan squinted at the sudden light…but that all faded when Woody reached for her hand, helped her to stand, then lifted her up and out of the box. "Jordan," he said, simply holding her close… "Are you okay?"

"I'm getting you wet," she answered weakly. She knew she was ruining the suit he had on – she was soaked."

"That doesn't matter," he said, still holding her. "It's over…"

"Is he gone?"

"Who? Charles Pullman?"

"Is that the man that who took me?"

"Yeah, sweetheart….he's in jail….we caught him."

"Good….I'm cold, Woody….so cold….."

"Can I get a blanket?" Woody asked one of the other officers.

"The paramedics are on their way, sir," the officer said, handing him a blanket.

He wrapped her up in it, still holding her close. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was shallow….and she was burning up with fever. "Tell them to hurry," he urged the officer.