Chapter Five

Chinese, Confessions, and a Conspiracy

An hour later Drew found himself knocking on the red door of Jordan's apartment. She answered and told him to put the Chinese take out on the counter while she got the plates and silverware. She had already showered, her hair still damp and curling around her shoulders. "Find a movie or something on television you want to watch while we eat," she told him. "What do you want to drink with your Moo Shoo Pork? I have Diet Pepsi, tea, water, and beer…"

"I bought a bottle of wine to go with the take out. I'll have a glass of that."

"Hmmm…a wine person. Always figured you for the harder stuff."

"Well, I like that, too, but we both have to work tomorrow, Jordan."

"Don't remind me," she stifled a yawn as she sat beside him on the couch, handing him his glass of wine and setting hers on the table. They ate in silence while they watched CSI: Miami.

"You have to wonder how much of that they believe is real," Jordan said, when her tummy was finally full and Drew had refilled her wine glass for the second time.

"Yeah…especially when you have the careers we do…you look at shows like that and kind of blow them off."

She nodded, moving her dinner plate off her lap to the coffee table and pulling her legs underneath her, unconsciously leaning a little closer to Drew. The day was catching up with her and she could feel her eyelids beginning to droop.

Drew noticed and refilled her wine glass one more time. He had felt the tension between Hoyt and her all day, crackling with an undercurrent in the air. What was worse was the way Jordan looked at Woody when he wasn't noticing…and the same way he did her. Drew had no clue what had happened between them in the past, but whatever it was, there had to be some great passion there, because now there was great dislike…nearly hate. And Drew had worked with the FBI a number of years…had studied as a profiler long enough to know that quite often hate and passion are two sides of the same coin. Hoyt and Jordan may profess not to care for each other, but he'd bet his bottom dollar the passion was still there – somewhere -- buried under all those layers of hurt both of them seemed to resent.

And that was the real reason he was there tonight. To get an exhausted Jordan just tipsy enough to loosen her tongue and tell him the truth. "So, Jordan," he began, noting her eyes opened back up, "tell me what went on with Hoyt. You said he used to be your boyfriend, but now he isn't…that it had been over with nearly a year…"

"Seven months…" her words were slurring slightly.

"You have it down to months. Is it really over?"

She nodded, and drained the rest of her glass of wine. Drew refilled it half way. "It's over," she stated.

"Care to tell me what happened?"

She shouldn't. She really shouldn't. She was a private person and guarded her past mistakes carefully. But sometimes the coat of perfectionism she was trying to put on her life wore thin. Drew would be here a few days or weeks at the most and then be gone back to Quantico. She may see him once or twice more in her life time…what the hell would it hurt to unburden herself this one time? Nigel knew a lot about her and Woody and what had happened, but not even Nigel knew the whole story. What possible harm could it be to tell the entire story to someone who would be out of her life in a short while…someone who wouldn't judge….someone, who in the past, had saved her life? Surely she could trust Drew. "You have the time?" she asked.

"I have all night, Jordan."

"See, Woody and I…well, we had this thing for a while…I guess it could be called attraction. I met him on a bank hoist about five years ago…he was a country bumpkin from Kewuanne, Wisconsin…I figured he'd last less than a year in Boston and then go screaming back to the hills. But I was so wrong.

"Woody was smart," she continued, draining her glass again and reaching for his nearly full one sitting on the coffee table. "Far smarter than anyone gave him credit for. And he liked me from the moment he saw me. And I knew it. Boy, did I know it.

"At first it was kind of fun…play him out, reel him back in….but he always came back for more. Then I went into melt down…a lot of stuff came up about my mother's murder…but Woody was there for me…even when my father left Boston because of me, Woody was there. He held me…took care of me when I wasn't able to take care of myself. He never left….he was as solid as they came." Jordan sighed and took a sip of wine.

"So….what happened?" Drew asked, gently prodding her along.

"I waited too long…I knew I was falling in love with him, but you know people like us – you and me – we don't trust easily. It takes us a while…so I fought it. Then he found someone else."

"And he's with that person now?" he inquired.

Jordan shook her head, wishing the room would stop spinning for just a minute. "No…it was a co-worker…Devin McGuire. She was killed in a plane crash."

Drew let out a low whistle. "He didn't get over it, did he?"

"It took a while. Months. Meanwhile, I was coming to grips with what I felt about him. I tried to be there for him during this time…help him…let him talk about her even though it about killed me inside. The whole time though, Drew," Jordan looked him in the eyes, "I was in love with Woody. I knew it. It just wasn't the right time to tell him. I mean you can't just go up to a man whose girlfriend has just been killed in a plane crash and go, 'Gee, I think I love you'."

"No, I don't suppose so…."

"Well, you can't. So I just tried to show him I had changed. Put my past behind me…even my mother's murder. And slowly, slowly, we were coming together. A kiss here and there…and God, he grew more handsome everyday." She glanced at Drew. In the back of her mind the stray thought wafted across I wonder how he's taking this and why does he want to know? Then she brushed it away. He probably wanted to be reassured that whatever went on between she and Woody in the past wouldn't interfere with his case in the present. "Then…then it happened."

"What happened, Jordan?" Drew asked in a low, silky voice, oddly reassuring as he ran his fingers through the hair at the back of her head, relaxing her further. He took the now-empty wine glass out of her hand and didn't relinquish his hold on her fingers.

"It was the worst two days of my life," she said in a low tone, still swallowing back the tears after seven months. "My birthday came up…and he gave me a ring…not an engagement ring … a friendship ring to be worn on my right hand. But it was a diamond ring and you know what I did." She tightened her hold on his fingers.

"You freaked out."

She giggled. More of an effect of the alcohol than humor. "Yep. Totally."

"And he didn't take it too well." It was a statement. From what Drew could tell of Woody, the relationship Woody would have with the woman that he would want to be his wife would be very serious nearly all the time. Jordan's reaction probably hurt the detective more than she would ever realize.

"That is an understatement," she whispered.

"So what happened next?"

She lowered her eyes and Drew noticed the tears began to slip from under the lids. Wordlessly he handed a tissue from the box on the coffee table. "He told me that he was tired of this 'dance' I insisted on doing. That he was ready to move on with his life. He had been in Boston nearly four years and had waited on me. He was tired of waiting. Then he walked out of my office."

"And that was it?"

"No…not exactly. When he told me that…it was later that day after he gave me the ring … I wanted to tell him I had changed my mind. I was ready to take the ring and wear it on my left hand if that was what he wanted. But he stormed out of my office before I would say anything. And I was too shocked to go after him."

"And?"

"He moved on. Began dating women that I knew…so I heard about it. I made a huge effort to keep the lines of communication open between us…I wanted him back. Tried to make him jealous and everything."

"Did it work?"

"No. Then, about seven months ago, he got shot in the belly with one of those Talon bullets."

Drew winced. Those could be deadly…they penetrated Kevlar…and once inside the body they opened up and played pinball with the organs.

"They had to remove his spleen and the bullet nicked his spine. For a while we didn't know if he would walk again."

"He seems fine…at least physically."

"He is." Jordan reached for another tissue.

"So what happened, sweetheart?" Drew asked, pulling her exhausted body closer to his, her head now leaning on his shoulder.

"I went to the hospital to see him…God, I was so scared….All the hospital did was call me and tell me he had been shot. I was so afraid I was going to lose him…I told him he couldn't leave me…he just couldn't. That I could say to him what he always wanted to hear from me … that I loved him. But it was too little too late. He didn't believe me. He thought I was saying it out of pity, not real love. He kicked me out of his hospital room and told me he didn't want to see or hear from me again." Jordan sniffled and rested her head fully on his shoulder now.

Drew gently stroked her back. So that was what happened. She played Woody at first, then fell in love with him…fully, as far as the profiler could tell…and then had been rejected. He understood Woody's anger at her…but that wasn't all that was bothering the detective. He wouldn't be that hostile over just Jordan's seemingly false confession of love made out of pity. No, there was something else there that Jordan wasn't aware of…even though Woody seemed determined to take it out on her. Drew wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he could find out soon enough.

He glanced at Jordan, now sound asleep on his shoulder. She had been hurt deeply…she may have flirted around with Woody at first, but she loved him…she still did, Drew would bet. Gently, he scooped her up in his arms and took her to her bedroom and tucked her in, thankful that she had opted to go ahead and put on her sleep pants and a tank top after she showered. He knelt by the side of her bed for just a minute, brushing the hair off her forehead. "Jordan…do you still love him? Do you still love Woody?" he asked softly in her ear.

She nodded and whispered, "Yes…very much." Drew smiled as he reached for her alarm clock to set the alarm to ring at eight-thirty instead of seven. She would need the extra sleep after all the wine and the emotional confession. He'd cover for her with Hoyt and Macy…Garret wouldn't have a problem with it at all…Hoyt would give her hell. He stood and turned out the light, finding his way to her door….a plan beginning to form in his mind.