Chapter Four

Escape

Without knowing it, Woody gave Jordan an out. An escape. A workable way to cope with her fears. He had told her point blank…in front of Nigel … that some of the attacks had happened in her neighborhood. Now she could act cautious….even a little fearful… hesitate to go home by herself and have a valid reason. Everyone would think she rightfully didn't want to get attacked.

And when Woody caught the man behind the sexual assaults, her fear-driven behavior could end naturally.

Thank you, Woody. I owe you one….Jordan thought as she began to strategize how to implement her safeguards….anything would beat sleeping in the closet like she had been doing several times a week. She'd wake up gasping for breath…dreaming of her attack…and be so scared to go back to sleep…never quite having felt so alone in a place that had always been her solace. She would always end those nights the same way … taking the blanket and pillow off her bed, curling up in the closet and shutting the door, believing that if her attacker came back, he wouldn't find her in there.

She knew it wasn't rational, but at two in the morning it at least made her feel secure enough to grab a few more hours rest before she had to go to work. Jordan would always chastise herself the next day for thinking this way, but her behavior didn't change. Even if she slept with all the lights on in her entire apartment, many nights she still would find refuge in her small closet, curling up in a tiny ball, trying to make herself fade away from her assailant.

But if she thought she was fooling everyone, she was sorely mistaken. Nigel and Garret might have chalked up her sudden preference for ill-fitting clothing, lack of appetite, and obvious sleepless nights to one of her moods. Woody sensed something different.

He sensed fear.

He had worked with victims too long not to know it when he saw it. Jordan was afraid. He assumed it was because of the attacker in and around her neighborhood – but he had never seen her this safety conscious even on the worst of cases. And she was obviously worried about being one of the attacker's victims. She never walked out of the morgue at night by herself any longer. As a matter of fact, she never went anywhere by herself at night any longer. Including Woody's physical therapy sessions.

She had apologized profusely to the detective…but cited concerns about the assailant. One part of him understood…yet another part of him was keenly disappointed. He had told himself repeatedly it was due to the fact that seeing her at the sessions made him angry enough to keep pushing himself. The truth was, looking into her honey-colored eyes was often the encouragement he needed to really tough out the painful therapy. "Don't worry about it," he had responded gruffly. "There's really no need for you to be there."

She had turned from him then, giving him the same hurt-filled look that she had when he was in the hospital and he pushed her away.

As the weeks passed, Jordan was able to implement most of her "security system." Nigel would walk out with her at night to her car. And the nights she worked really late, he would even follow her home and walk her to her apartment, often relenting from his previous vow and staying long enough to eat Chinese. Jordan stopped going out at night altogether, unless she was with someone.

And so far, her plan was working splendidly. Woody was giving her some strange looks, but Jordan assumed it was because she was now spending so much time with Nigel, as he was the hub of her security plan. Resolutely she told herself whatever the detective thought didn't matter. What mattered was that she didn't get attacked…again.

She had learned to swallow her fear and deal with her demons…so she thought. Until she got a call from Woody in the early hours of a Friday morning. She needed to come into the morgue immediately. There was another murder victim…who had also been sexually assaulted. Jordan and the body arrived in autopsy at nearly the same time. "What do we have?" she asked Woody

"Female, Caucasian, her Massachusetts' driver's license says she is one Sarah Manning…and she's 35 years-old."

Jordan swallowed hard. "Raped?" she forced out, nearly stammering. The horror of that word…it's base meaning…still caused her problems in saying it.

"Yeah. It sure as hell wasn't consensual. Take a look." Woody pulled the sheet back from the body. There were defense wounds on her arms and hands… "She probably got a half-way good swipe at him with her hands. Check her under her nails and see if we have enough of anything there for a DNA run…"

Jordan nodded, only vaguely hearing him. She was looking at the girl's face…brunette hair…brown eyes….it could be her sister.

Or her.

And the girl's chest was a mass of slash wounds from a knife. Woody noticed what Jordan was looking. "One of those…" he said pointing to the wounds, "was fatal. I'm going to need to know which one or ones it could be."

"Woody…any idea who did this?"

"Seems our condom rapist has graduated to murder."

Jordan felt as if someone had hit her in the solar plexus. She had no air left in her lungs. "You're sure?" she asked in a faint voice.

"Positive." Woody turned back to the body in front of them. "What I don't understand is…"

Jordan didn't hear him. The roar in her head took over and she backed off from the gurney, her hands over her ears. The room spun. She heard Woody call her name, and then everything went black.

"How long has Dr. Cavanaugh not been eating?" Dr. Coburn asked Garret, Nigel, and Woody. Woody had caught Jordan before she hit the floor after collapsing in autopsy, gently lowering her and himself to the ground. He had yelled for someone to call 911. Garret and Nigel had responded and followed the ambulance to the hospital.

"Not eating?" Garret asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes…not eating. Although I imagine it was hard to tell with those bulky clothes she wears," the doctor commented. "Any idea how long? Could she have an eating disorder?"

"Nothing in her past would make you think she would," Garret said. "Although when she's under stress, she tends not to take care of herself."

"Anything lead you to believe she would harm herself?" Dr. Coburn cautiously asked.

Garret thought quickly. Of course he was privy to Jordan's supposed suicide attempt years earlier…but that was a different life for her then. There was nothing…nothing, not even in the heat of looking for her mother's killer that would lead him to believe that she would hurt herself. "No," he responded. "Why?"

Dr. Coburn shook his head. "Just asking. Has she been under any unusual amount of stress lately…anything that would push her over the edge?"

Nigel blew out a sigh, carefully choosing his words. Two of the three men in her life that had caused her so much grief were right there in front of him. "I would say so," he cautioned. "There's been quite a bit of…upheaval lately." Jordan had confided to the Brit during some of the dinners at her apartment how betrayed and hurt she felt by Garret's actions, and how very painful it was to see Woody on a daily basis and know he no longer cared anything about her. Not to mention how much she missed her father….only Nigel knew just how abandoned Jordan felt…the hurt she was carrying.

She had cried all evening in his arms one time. He had held her in his lap and nearly rocked her to sleep like a child. "I'll never, never get that close to another person again," she had vowed out loud. "It hurts too much to lose them, Nigel."

"But Jordan, you'll only be living half a life if you don't love and allow yourself to be loved in return," he had quietly replied, gently brushing her hair off her forehead.

"I won't hurt, though. My heart…what's left of it…won't break again."

"Maybe you just haven't met the right man," he teased.

She had shaken her head. "I met the right one…I just screwed it up."

"Give Woody some time, love. He's been through a lot."

"No…he'll never love me again…not now."

"Jordan…you don't know that," he had gently scolded, but wondered just how much she had really told him about her and Woody's "break up."

"No…I do know that," she had whispered, before pushing herself away from him and standing up, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. "Nigel…why can't all men be like you?"

"Dashingly handsome and sensual?"

She had laughed then….nearly a belly roll. "No….sweet and understanding….but totally unthreatening and harmless…"

"And that's a good thing?"

"Yes…that's a very good thing," she had replied, with a far away look in her eyes.

Nigel didn't understand it then. He thought he did now. "Can I see her?" he quietly asked Dr. Coburn.