Chapter Eleven

He got back in his car and drove to the interstate. It was late, but he wasn't tired. Not yet anyway. He'd stop in a few hours and get a hotel. Truth was, he hadn't thought much about his return trip. He had hoped…anticipated, even, that he'd be sleeping with his wife tonight. That obviously wasn't going to happen now…and probably never again. He winced at the thought. "She's going to go on with her life now," he reflected. "Whether it's in Phoenix, or back in Boston, she's left me behind." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. That was hard for him to accept, for as much as he knew there was a time in his life without Jordan, he really couldn't remember it. He didn't want to. He thought about the void that was in his life when he first came to Boston…and how knowing her…feeling her warmth….somehow filled it. Even when their relationship had hit rocky places, he knew that somehow, they'd steer through it.

Not now. Not anymore.

He drove on through the night, radio blaring to keep him awake…thinking about the cases they had worked on together. The dances at the Pogue. When she had first told him that she loved him. Despite his gloomy mood, a smile played with the corners of his mouth. He was called into a homicide scene. He surveyed it and in turn, had called her. There had been a shooting. They were looking over the scene when one of the gunmen they thought was dead rolled back over and began firing. Woody quickly clipped him, but not before his Kevlar took two rounds. Jordan had been on the sidelines, watching. When the scene had calmed down, she had gone over to him to check and see if he was okay. He had been almost kind of brusque with her…wanting to get back to the scene. She had stopped him. "Don't ever do that again," she said.

"Jordan, I can't predict the scene…I can't promise you that," he had replied.

"I don't care. You can't get hurt. Ever. You can't leave me."

Seeing the tears in her eyes and feeling her trembling, he had led her away over to the side to talk to her and calm her down. "Jordan, I'm fine…feel?" He had put her hand on his chest. "See….I'm okay."

"I know…it's just…it's just…I love you, Woody. Nothing can happen to you."

Half the precinct heard her confession. "You can't take that back now, Jordan Cavanaugh. I have witnesses," he joked.

"I don't want to," she had whispered softly, looking up at him. "I meant it."

His world had tilted one more time.

He was lost in his memories of her… too late to see the car in front of him stop suddenly. All he saw was brake lights and all he heard was the screech of tires.

The incessant ringing of the phone brought Nigel out of a sound sleep. Pulling his arms carefully from around Ronnie so as not to wake her, he answered it. "Townsend," he said softly in the receiver.

"Nigel, this is Dr. Daniels. There's been a multi-car accident on the highway…could you get out there? I know it's late…but I was thinking that if you could cover this part, then Jordan could come into the office early and start autopsy."

"Sure. I'll be right there. I'll call Jordan and let her know."

Nigel hung up the phone and called Jordan. Her sleepy voice answered his call. "Hoy—Cavanaugh," she said.

"Still can't make up your mind? Nigel teased.

"Sorry, Nige. Old habits die hard."

"Yeah. Look, love. Dr. Daniels just called me…there's been a multi-car pile up on the interstate. I'm going to cover the field work. Can you be in the office early tomorrow to start autopsy?"

"Sure, Nige. No problem."

"Thanks love. How'd it go with Woody tonight, if you don't mind me asking?"

Jordan sighed. "Pretty rough. He wants me to come back to Boston after my time here is up and for us try to work things out."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him that I may come back to Boston…but I couldn't live in a relationship where every time things got rough, I would have to worry about him leaving. That the divorce was up to him…He could file or not file. I wouldn't protest if he did."

"How did he take it?"

"Okay…I guess. As well as could be expected."

"Hmmmm…Are you okay?"

"I will be…"

"I know you will love. Get some rest. I'll see you soon."

Nigel hung up and whispered to Ronnie that he had to leave, getting dressed quietly and going to the accident scene. It was a mess…cars, trucks…everywhere. And fire. Some of the vehicles had caught fire. It would take hours to go through the wreckage.

Methodically, he began to process the scene…one after the other….sending the bodies back to the morgue…until he finally reached the part of the tangled heap of metal that had been burned. There were no bodies here…there was nothing left. Fuel had drained from a tanker in the middle of the wreck, as well as from some of the other cars. A spark from somewhere had ignited the mangled wreckage. The only things left at this spot were some car frames…and license plates. A familiar one caught Nigel's eye…Massachusetts. Boston. Hurriedly, Nigel checked the make of the car…A Honda Civic. He swallowed hard.

Sick to his stomach he called his office and had them run the tag. In a matter of minutes it was confirmed. Woody's car. There was no body left. He gathered what he could from the scene to see if he could get a DNA match. Woody had been in the system. His DNA was there. Then he called the hospital tosee if Woody was listed among the survivors. He wasn't. Hurrying back to the office, he ran the DNA test, just to be sure. Before he told Jordan. It matched. He spoke with Dr. Daniels. He called Dr. Macy. Then he made his way to Jordan's office, to tell his friend news he had no desire to…news that he didn't know how she would take….for Nigel knew that despite the fact that Jordan had told Woody to go ahead to the divorce, her feelings for the detective still ran deep.

"Love? Have you got a minute?"