Chapter Seven
The next morning found Jordan on her way to Chapel Hill to look at the body of the latest victim. She rode with another detective, leaving Woody with Sheriff Denning and the detectives that were working on the case. Woody didn't see her until late afternoon, when she arrived back at the office with an armful of files, reports, and pictures. He helped her set them down on the work table in the room they had been given.
"I'll give Denning one thing," she told Woody as they began to sort through the information, making some kind of order out of the chaos. If all the other agencies had been as thorough as he has been about collecting this evidence and comparing it to what was in the national data base, Slash and Dash would have been caught a long time ago."
Woody nodded. He had spent the afternoon with Denning and the lead detective. He had come to the same conclusion. "I agree…but it's still going to take some time. I have a feeling we may be here for a while. Do you think Macy will have a problem with that?"
"Garret? You know him. He's glad to get me out of his hair. Now, Nigel…Nigel may have a problem with it because when I'm gone his work load doubles…but Garret would like to have this case wrapped up and get me back home for good without any more chances of me being pulled out again. So I think he'll give me the time if we're really making progress."
Woody grunted. Progress was being made, but it was slow going. "It's getting there, Jo, but it's going to take a little bit. You may be here longer than you want to be."
"That's fine…just as long as we get our man."
"Like the old days?"
She gave him a grin. A small thing, but it sent his mind racing back to remember just how good it used to be. "Yeah," she replied. "Just like the old days."
That afternoon they spent their time review the evidence that Woody had gotten from the lead detective, Steve White, and the information that Jordan brought back with her from the morgue. Tomorrow, she was going back to Chapel Hill one more time to look over the body before it was released for burial.
And it was like old times between she and Woody, working together to solve a case, except she was very careful not to let her hand brush his as they passed information back and forth…and she studiously avoided looking into his blue eyes….eyes that could still make her knees go weak and all reasoning go out of her head. Finally, around six, she was ready to call it a day. "I need to go back and e-mail Nigel to ask him to send me some of my files from back in Boston," she said.
"I've got the car….I'll drive," Woody said, dangling the keys in front of her face. She reached out to grab them and he moved them out of her reach.
"Woody," she protested, "I can drive….if you need to stay here and work, I can drive myself back to the hotel and you can catch a ride with Steve or Roger."
"Nope. I'm through, too." He got up from the table and helped her gather her things. "There's no sense in putting anyone out just because we have issues about being with each other."
"I told you, I don't have a problem working with you again."
"Work is one thing. Personal issues are another," he said helping her to the car.
He had a point. On some level today, Jordan had to nearly pinch herself…it was like two years apart had never happened. They could still finish each other's sentences…they knew how each other thought. His eyes could still work their magic on her….and she couldn't help but wonder if his kisses were still just as sweet…
Or if another woman claimed those kisses for her own by now. She sighed and was quiet the rest of the way back to the hotel. Woody grabbed her brief case and a box of files she had brought with her to work on that evening and took them up to her room. She opened the door and he dropped them on a nearby table, all the while surveying her hotel room. It was neat. She had organized the few things she had brought and made it seem like home. By contrast, he had left his room in a mess. Whirlwind Woody had struck that morning.
She turned on her laptop and connected to the internet. "I'm e-mailing Nige now….anything you need from the Boston PD?"
"No, I think I'm good," he said, leaning over the back of her chair to see what she was writing…she requested certain files, pictures, and reports. Then she asked how everyone was doing and for him to please make sure her plants were watered. She also mentioned she was working with him again.
"You think Nige needs to know that?" he asked.
"Know that I'm working with you? I think he'd be interested, seeing that none of us heard from you in nearly two years….it was like you dropped off the face of the earth. Where'd you go, Woody?"
He knew the question had been coming….he anticipated it. "Florida," he said quietly.
"Florida? What were you doing in Florida?"
"I worked part time with my uncle down there….he owns an airboat business."
"So you got out of police work completely?"
"Police work, yes. Investigation, no. I worked as a private investigator, too."
"Really? Anything interesting?"
He nodded and moved to the other side of the small table to face her. "Yeah. I did follow up for the last three families on this Slash and Dash perp."
Jordan's eyes widened. "I didn't know. No wonder Denning wanted you and me on this case."
Woody swallowed hard. "Roger wanted me….but I was the one that requested you."
Jordan felt the blood drain from her face. "You were the one that requested me?"
"Yeah. But I had Denning make the call. I didn't think you'd fly to North Carolina for me."
"It's an investigation, Woody. Personal issues would be set aside. You know that."
"I know. But I wanted you for personal reasons, too."
Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Personal reasons?"
"I needed to talk to you again."
"You could have called. I haven't changed my cell phone number…the morgue number's the same. So is my apartment's."
"Not the same. I needed to see you face to face…and I didn't think you'd do that…"
He was right. She wouldn't. Too much had happened…too much time had passed.
But her curiosity tweaked her interest. "Why? Why did you need to see me, Woody?"
He never got to answer that question.
Now, days and hundreds of miles later, the question still remained hanging out there, unanswered.
And it would have to remain unanswered. It would come up again. Woody knew it would. But right now it wasn't important.
Getting Jordan somewhere safe was the most important thing on his mind right now. He glanced over at her sleeping figure, sitting next to him on the small plane. She was exhausted and tired. She needed to rest. He adjusted the blanket around her more comfortably and watched her sleep.
Everything had happened so quickly, he was still adjusting to it. Nigel had sent her the information she needed. She had compared it to what Denning had. She had nearly solved the case before she arrived in North Carolina. The sheriff's information just solidified her ideas.
The women who were getting killed were former prostitutes…females that had found their way out of that way of making a living and were now living productive lives. Deborah Brady was the first victim. Joel had filled Jordan in fully on his mother's life and how she was trying to turn her past around.
At first, Jordan thought it may be a former pimp that was killing these women out of revenge and to make them an example. The only problem was that she couldn't make that idea stick. So now she believed that it was a former john that all these women had in common…probably a man that traveled, since these women were located up and down the main highways of the East Coast.
She had begun making a list of suspects. As a matter of fact, Woody had been surprised how far along she was forensically with the case.
And it had been making someone uncomfortable. She had received a threatening letter while in Graham. She hadn't thought too much about it, she had received them before. But before Woody wasn't there. He intercepted the letter and became alarmed.
After showing it to Denning, the sheriff became concerned. At that moment, Jordan was in Chapel Hill performing a few more follow up tests on her evidence. Alone. A deputy was sent immediately to retrieve her. Meanwhile, Woody had phoned Garret to see if Jordan had received any threats while in Boston. "A few," he replied. "But you know her. She blew it off."
Woody bit his lip. Whoever this perp was, he wasn't one to be taken lightly. Deciding that Jordan didn't need to be left alone, he tagged along side her everywhere she had gone, except the women's bathroom. He insisted that she leave the door between their hotel rooms open.
At first, she had laughed off his worries…pooh-poohed his concerned. Woody shrugged off her manner and continued to dog her.
Until last night. She woke him up, slipping between the door that separated their rooms, shaking him awake, panic on her face. "Woody," she said, her voice carrying a note of urgency and fear…something you didn't hear often from Jordan Cavanaugh.
"Wha? He asked, trying to figure out what was going on…slowly waking from sleep, momentarily shocked and glad to find Jordan sitting on the edge of his bed. Until she handed him the envelope that she had found shoved under her room door…threatening her with the same death as the other victims if she didn't stop working on the case.
Now the killer knew where she was at. That was not something to be blown off. A quick phone call to Denning brought two things…permission to leave, since the case was wrapping up anyway, and a flight further south. Woody was taking Jordan to the safest place he knew right now….one the killer wasn't aware of…his uncle's house in Florida. There he could keep an eye on her until an arrest was made.
Jordan didn't want to go…she wanted to go back to Boston. But Garret had asked her for once, just to listen to others…trust other people again for once…and she'd be back home in no time.
She had replied she trusted no one but herself now…and had no faith in anything but her science.
Woody had swallowed hard and filed that fact away in his head. Jordan didn't trust him…that was why she was so cool to him…cynical. But now she was in a position she had to, in order to stay safe, maybe even keep her very own life. Could she trust him?
Would he let her down again?
He gently brushed the hair out of her eyes. He wouldn't disappoint her…maybe she could learn that she could trust him again.
Maybe he could make a choice between her or police work, if he had to.
And maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.
