Chapter Four

When Did You Stop Loving Me?

Jordan smiled over the rim of her wine glass as Woody re-introduced her to yet another one of his police co-workers. It was Friday…it was after five…and it was the typical time that the Boston PD police got together. She had promised him she would be here…and she kept her word. She was waiting for him when Woody showed up at O'Mally's.

"Nice to have you back in Boston, Mrs. Hoyt," said the burly cop.

"Thank you…it's good to be back…and please…it's Jordan." The man smiled his thanks and ambled off to talk to another cluster of detectives and rookies.

Woody glanced down at the woman beside him. To tell the truth, he didn't think he would take him up on his request to return to Boston. When Jordan had met him for breakfast the next morning, she said for him to give her a few days to work out the details, but she would come home and stay for as long as she needed to. He has swallowed his amazement with this early morning coffee and took her extended hand as a token of her promise. Then he flew out of New York without her.

He halfway didn't expect to hear from her…either that, or she would call him and tell him she had changed her mind. She did call the next day, but it was to tell him to pick her up from Logan at four. She had conned her way out of working at the New York morgue this summer…saying she had a family emergency and that she would add another class to her already crowded schedule for the fall.

Woody had watched for her anxiously to come down the ramp and was relieved to see her. They had collected her numerous bags and drove home. He promised to get her a rental car for the summer…and then helped her get her things upstairs, pausing on the landing. "Which bedroom do you want, Jordan? The master or the guest?"

The fleeting thought ran through her head that this was an odd conversation to be having with her husband…but Woody was living up to his word. This would be in name only. "Since you probably already have your things set up in the master, I'll take the guest."

"No…you can have the master bedroom…"

She laid a gentle hand on his arm. "No. This is your home…and your bedroom. I'll take the guest room. It's only for a few weeks, right?"

"Right," Woody replied.

"And I'll use the hall bathroom. I remember how upset you used to get with my makeup and things spread out all over the place…in your way."

Woody nodded, taking her suitcases into the guest room. Jordan followed, glancing to her right before entering the guest room. The door that led to the nursery remained shut. They had just begun to buy baby furniture and decorate the room when she had miscarried. After she got home from the hospital, Woody had shut the door…abstemiously to avoid reminding her of the baby…the baby they never talked about…Jordan had never reopened the room. She doubted Woody had, either.

"Jordan?" Woody called from inside the bedroom. "Is something wrong?"

"No…sorry… just trying to remember where everything is."

"I haven't changed hardly anything since…since…"

"Since I left."

"Yeah." They both looked at each other for a wordless minute. "I don't want to make this hard on you," Woody said. "I really don't. I just need your help and I appreciate you doing this for me. And I'll make sure I make it up to you…All I need is for you to pretend to be my wife for the next few weeks. I don't expect you to cook my meals, do my laundry, sit up and wait for me to come in, or anything else that normal couples do. Just be my wife in public…act like we're in love again and are getting back together. Can you do that?"

Jordan nodded. So those were the rules. Be his wife in public and nothing in private. Those were the dividing lines in their relationship. Sucking in a deep breath to steady her nerves now, and praying there was still some Scotch in the cabinet over the stove to steady them later, she replied: "Yes. Of course."

"Good," he said as he went back down the stairs. "Unpack and…and…well…make yourself at home."

And her first "assignment" had been this get together at O'Mally's. To Woody's relief, Jordan was behaving like a pro. "There's Gains. Let's go talk to him." Wood took her hand and led her over to the outgoing police chief. "Chief Gains?"

"Hoyt…good to see you again. How's it going?" the older man said, patting Woody on the back and shaking his hand at the same time.

"You remember my wife, Jordan?"

"Mrs. Hoyt…so glad you're back in Boston. Are you staying this time?" Gains looked at Jordan, the point of his question coming out fully in his pale, cold gaze.

Jordan swallowed hard and prayed she had on her best poker face. "Yes, sir," she replied quietly. "And please…call me Jordan."

"Are you going back to the morgue to work? We've sorely missed your skills as an ME there."

"Uh…I don't know, sir…I haven't given it much thought yet."

"What she means is that we're working on our relationship right now," Woody replied smoothly. "We haven't really thought much about it…our marriage is taking first priority."

"Good…good…wonderful news. You know the next chief of police needs all the support he can get…in the ranks of the officers and in the ranks of his home life." He nudged Woody with his elbow.

Jordan looked at Woody, not quite sure of what to say. Woody covered for her. "Thankfully, I have it in both places." Jordan nodded, her mouth dry now, and not just from the white wine she was drinking. They turned away and talked to several more officers, then Woody helped her with her jacket and walked out the door with her, his arm around her waist, escorting her to her car and helping her in. "Woody?" she asked, before he shut the door and turned away.

"What, Jordan?"

"I am thinking about asking Garret if maybe I can work part time at the morgue this summer…while I'm here. He has always needed someone extra this time of year because of folks taking vacations. If I don't at least do a little something, I'm going to go crazy having so much time on my hands."

Woody rubbed his chin. "Sure…if that's what you want to do. If I was a betting man, I'd wager you'd be over there anyway…so go ahead and see what Garret says." He flashed her a grin. "And be careful going home."

She smiled back…for the first time since she had been back in Boston. "You do the same."


"What the hell are you doing here?" Garret asked, startled by her slim form propped against the wall of the Boston morgue.

"Good morning to you, too," she teased, allowing herself to get caught up in his embrace. "Right now, I've been propping up the wall for the last half hour waiting on you to show up. What happened? You used to be here by this time every morning."

Garret chuckled. "It's Monday…cut me some slack. But that brings me back to my question, Jordan. What the hell are you doing here?"

Jordan followed him into his office, shut the door and sat on the side of his desk, facing her former boss. "Would you believe trying to reconcile with Woody?"

Garret let out a biting chuckle. "Yeah…right."

She held his gaze for a minute and then began twirling his stapler around on his desk with her index finger. "I'm serious."

"You can't be…not after the way you two split up."

"Passion is a strange thing, Garret."

"Passion is one thing…common sense is another. You left because Woody became a workaholic and totally ignored you. You did everything you could…he wouldn't respond…so you hauled ass to New York."

"Well, I'm here now."

"And I'm glad your back…but why?'

Jordan sighed. "Can you keep a secret?" Garret nodded. "I mean really keep a secret?"

"Jordan, you know I can. What's up?"

"Woody's up for Gains' position. I'm back to help hedge his odds."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Gains is retiring…Woody is one of the three men being considered for the position. But Gains thinks the chief needs the support and stability of a family…or at least a wife…in order to be truly successful at their job."

"That's sort of a Neanderthal way of thinking."

"I agree…but Gains is old-fashioned…"

"And Woody wants the position. How did he talk you into coming back?"

"He said…I owe him."

"He said that?"

Jordan nodded. "And in a way, I guess I do." She got up and walked over to the window. "I mean, when I left Boston, I knew that this may come up as an obstacle at some point…"

"But because you left him due to the fact that he was acting like an ass, you feel responsible for his future….while yours remains in limbo?"

"Yeah…sort of….I guess."

Garret sighed. "I'm no one to talk…God knows…but a marriage takes two…and you were doing most of the giving."

"I love him."

"Present tense?"

She nodded, unable to meet Garret's gaze.

"So that's the real reason you're here," he said softly, coming up behind her. "Be careful, Jordan." He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to him, holding her close. "I hated like hell to see you leave Boston. Hated it with everything in me…you were leaving the only family you really had…Max was in Virginia…but I understood you were doing what you had to do to survive. You couldn't stay here…not loving him the way you did and no longer being important to him. I prayed you'd go to New York City, find a job you loved as much as the one you loved here…with friends like you had in Boston…and maybe even someone you cared for half as much as you did Woody. It didn't happen, did it?"

She shook her head. "I liked my job okay…"

"But…"

"I'm miserable…"

"So you came back to give it one more try?" He felt her nod against his shoulder. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Could I have a part-time job this summer while I'm here?" she pulled back and looked at Garret.

He grinned and nodded.


She left the morgue and aimlessly drove around Boston for a while…not quite ready to go home to an empty house…with so many memories. She found herself back at what used to be the Pogue…the name long since changed since it was sold years ago. She pushed the door open and found a place at the bar, asking for a beer. Not a whole lot had changed….warm memories flooded her mind as she remembered when she and Woody had first met. Drinks together after work…celebrating the outcome of the Montgomery case…dancing….the Sickboy23 case and her red dress.

Him helping her close up some nights…and sneaking kisses behind the counter. Had that really been nearly seven years ago? She sighed, paid for her beer and left. Yeah… it had been that long.

She didn't get home until after Woody got in from work. "Where have you been?" he asked casually, not letting her hear the fear that had been in his voice when he had pulled up in the drive way and her car wasn't there. He was nearly sure she had fled back to New York.

"Just…getting reacquainted with the city."

"Did you talk to Macy today?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

She pulled another beer out of the refrigerator and uncapped it. "He's giving me a part time job this summer." She took a long drink and looked at Woody, who was also retrieving a beer.

"Seems like old times then, doesn't it?" he asked, avoiding her eyes.

Just like old times…you in your corner of the world and me in mine…never talking to each other…always working…when did you stop loving me, Woody? She thought.

"Yeah. Just like old times," she replied in a soft voice.