Chapter Two

These are the Ties that Bind and Gag

Woody looked again at the piece of paper he held in his hand. It was official. Chief of Police Gains was retiring at the end of June…three months away. Woody sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was definitely a good news bad news situation.

Bad news, in that as far as chiefs of police went, Gains had been one of the best. Fair, but not afraid to ruffle any feathers when he had to, and he didn't care what bird the feathers were on…DA's, detectives, or diplomats, the law was law and that was the only thing that mattered. Woody hated to see such a man leave the Boston PD. Gain would be impossible to imitate…difficult to duplicate. The men that served under Gains were fiercely loyal to their chief and made no bones about the way they felt.

Good news, at least as far as Woody was concerned, was that he was up for Gains' position. Woodrow Wilson Hoyt could be Boston's next chief of police. He had made a rapid rise through the ranks and had a drawer full of commendations. He was set and primed. And Gains had made no bones about the fact that as out going chief, he strongly desired that the next head of the Boston PD be pulled from the pool of high qualified candidates under him.

Woody was one of the three. The other two men were just as equally qualified on paper, but Woody knew that Gains and the committee hiring the new chief would look beyond a resume and letters of recommendation…scrutinize far more than medals and promotions. Their personal life would also be put under a microscope. If a man couldn't control his family, how could he control the Boston police force?

It may not be fair, it may be archaic, but that's the way it was. In some ways, the Boston police department had not changed beyond the all-male ranks of thinking it had started out with over a hundred years ago. And in a way it made sense. If you can't control a small group of people…how can you control masses of men, muscle, and ammunition?

The first candidate, Jim Cranwell, would almost unanimously be dismissed as too young, despite the fact that he had as many commendations as Woody. Thirty-one was a bit young to be the Boston PD's chief of police.

Tony Walker, the other candidate, was as equally qualified as Woody, but was several years senior of Woody's age. Gains had come in as chief in his late thirties, nearly the same age as Woody was now and established a long tenure as chief. That had added stability and pride to their force. Gains wanted the same thing when he left. Tony was in his mid-fifties, less than ten years until retirement.

So age seemed to be on Woody's side, along with his sterling record and rapid rise through the ranks. However, on the personal side, Tony had a big advantage. Tony had been married for years to the same woman, and had a tribe of kids…mostly honor students and athletes. Tony qualified for Father Knows Best and Husband of the Year awards. Tony was a Catholic family man…just like Gains.

And while Woody was Catholic enough not to divorce Jordan after she left, he had no family to speak of. Although Jordan and he were still legally married, they weren't together. Woody rubbed the back of his neck and wondered just how much…exactly…that would count against him when he was considered for the position he had coveted since he was a young boy back in Wisconsin. Chief of Police. His old man would have been so proud…

"Yo, Bro, got a minute?" came a voice from the doorway.

"Cal…" Woody gritted his teeth at the sound of his younger brother's voice. "What is it now?"

"Just wanted to know if you could take your favorite brother out to lunch…we haven't had much quality time lately…"

"You're broke again, aren't you?"

"Who me?"

"Yes, you."

Cal sat back in a chair and surveyed his perennially uptight brother, who was even more anal at the minute than normal. "What's up?" he finally asked, when Woody kept his back to him.

Wordlessly Woody handed him the copy of the letter that Gains had sent to all three candidates for police chief. Cal let out a low whistle. "Man, if Dad could only see you now. Congratulations. Think you'll get the job?"

"No." Woody nearly spat out the word.

"Why the hell not? You're just as qualified as either one of these guys…"

"Jim won't get it because he's too young. I won't get it because I don't fit the ideal picture of a police chief for Gains."

Cal gave him a puzzled look. "What? You're not handsome enough to be a Perre Ellis model?"

"No…no...no." Woody sighed again, sat down, and put his head in his hands. "Gains thinks that the chief should be a family man…wife, kids, white picket fence, dog in the backyard…type of guy. In his mind, if a man can deal with his family, he can control the police force…a family gives a man stability and support…things he needs to be a good chief."

"Oh."

"And even though I'm the same age Gains was when he became chief, with nearly the same credentials, I don't have a wife, much less a family."

"You mean your wife isn't in Boston any longer."

Woody nodded.

"And you really think…that during the year of our Lord two thousand and five AD…that this really matters to the hiring committee?"

"We both know who really runs that committee," Woody replied, looking his brother in the eyes. "Gains. And it matters to him."

Cal contemplated Woody's answer for a minute and ran his eyes over his brother. Woody hadn't been the same since Jordan left….an endless workaholic, not that he hadn't been one before…but her leaving had made it worse. He was terse and driven…and Cal couldn't remember the last time he had really seen Woody smile…unless it was the Christmas before Jordan left for New York. She had given Woody a train set that she found out he had wanted since he was a little boy. Woody had grinned for a week and Jordan had nearly cried over her husband's delight.

Woody missed her like hell, he just would never admit it. Call it Hoyt pride, or male stubbornness, Cal didn't know which. He just knew his brother was becoming an old man before his time without her.

And he'd bet a dollar to a donut hole Jordan wasn't fairing much better. She loved Woody…or she wouldn't have put up with him for so long and tried so hard.

How two people can be so perfect for each other and screw it up, I'll never know, Cal thought. Then he smiled. "Well, I guess with all of this on your mind, lunch is out of the question?"

Woody gave him an eat-shit look.

"Oooookayyyy," Cal said, getting up and walking over to the door. "But here's an idea, Wood."

"What?'

"You could swallow that damned male pride of yours and ask her to come back."

"Need I remind you that she left me? She couldn't cope with being a policeman's wife."

No, she couldn't cope with you working all the time and having no time for her…a woman like that needs her husband at home some nights, you stupid jackass. "Well…if you talk to her…and can get her to feel guilty….that if you don't get the position it's all her fault for leaving you…maybe you could at least get her home until after a decision is made about the new chief."

Woody stared at his brother, dumbstruck. "You mean attempt to manipulate Jordan Cavanaugh to come home for my benefit?"

"Jordan Cavanaugh Hoyt. She's still my sister-in-law. And she might do it if she gets something out of her time spent back here with you."

"Like what?"

"I don't know…a divorce maybe…a monetary settlement…you know her better than I do. And guess what?"

"What?"

"You may discover that you've missed your wife. Bye, Woody. See you later." Cal left his brother's office and was heard whistling on his way down the hall to the elevators.

Miss her? Was Cal crazy? He had coped just fine without her, thank you very much. He had learned to sleep by himself again…do his own laundry again…microwave his own TV dinners again.

No, he was doing just fine by himself…without a wife to tie him down and hold him back.

But the thoughts of having her return were tempting. Woody shoved them from his mind. He would get the position on the merits of his achievements as a Boston policeman, and nothing else. That should be enough.

Even if the thoughts of seeing her again was causing cold chills to run up and down his spine.