Chapter Five

The Only Thing Certain in Life is Change

"How are you doing?" Jordan asked Garret midway through the next day.

"Fine…fine. Most things haven't changed. And those that have are pretty easy to catch up on."

"I really appreciate you coming in like this for a few days. At least until one of the guys gets over this flu and is back full time."

Garret nodded and grinned. "Well, it is nice to feel needed…and it is good to be working again."

Jordan returned his grin. "Does that mean you want your old job back?"

"Not a chance. I'm enjoying playing golf whenever I want to … sleeping in….I don't mind occasional stints here, but as far as full-time, you can have it. Retirement rocks."

Jordan chuckled and made her way down the hall to the elevators. Seely had just called her. Someone had found a body in a back alley behind a local bar and she had to take his call. "Well….just hold down the fort for a little while until I get back…and if things get too hairy for you and Nigel, give me a call."

Garret nodded and returned his attention back to the file he was reading. A pat on his back broke his concentration. "Dr. Macy…How are you?" Woody asked.

"Woody…heard you were back. Last time I saw you, you were using a cane and still limping…"

"That … that was long time ago." For Woody, it seemed like a lifetime ago sometimes. Other than the scar on his chest, his body really bore no signs that he had ever been seriously injured. And for the most part, he seldom thought about his injury, recovery, and how his pride had made him push Jordan out of his life at that point.

Other nights…especially if he had been involved with a shooting, his old nightmares would return…and in those he didn't get up off the filthy floor of that dingy apartment. Instead of Jordan telling him she loved him and needed him, she ended up crying over his body. Woody swallowed hard. Garret was the first person who had really mentioned that part of his past.

"I guess you're needing Jordan?" Garret asked, noticing the detective's face flush and the go deadly pale.

"Ummm no. Actually, I came to see you. I was wondering if you'd like to go out for drinks after work. You're the only person I haven't seen since I came back to Boston. Nigel said you had retired.."

"Retired from here," Garret said, indicating the morgue. "But not from working. I teach a little…consult a little…help out a little here…."

"So you're as busy as you want to be."

"Yeah." Garret grinned at the detective. "Soooo you want to go for drinks. How does O'Malley's sound?"

"Six?"

"Six is good….unless Jordan makes me work over time."

"She wouldn't do that, would she?"

"Don't bet on it. See you then." With a final handshake, Garret slipped behind the swinging doors of the autopsy room and disappeared.

Woody grimaced and looked at his watch. Four more hours until six o'clock. Maybe he'd have the answers he wanted by midnight tonight.

But why do you want them so badly? His conscious prompted him again.

It's none of your concern. I just do. If it bothers you badly enough, I'll pop an extra twenty in the plate at church on Sunday and say an extra Hail Mary. Until then…shut up.

Woody was a little late getting to O'Malley's. He never thought he'd ever get lost in Boston…not as long as he had lived there before…but he did. Feverishly, he parked his car and nearly sprinted to the bar. Garret was there…on an end barstool, nursing a glass of Scotch.

"Sorry I'm late…."

"Last minute call?"

"No…got lost. And the traffic was horrible." Woody signaled to the bartender to bring him a Scotch, also.

"Okay, Woody. So what's up?' Garret said, swallowing the rest of his Scotch and getting down to business. While he had no preconceived ideas about why Woody wanted to see him, he did have a strong suspicion it involved Jordan on some level – either personal or professional.

"I just wanted to catch up with what all has happened to you since I've been gone," Woody said, avoiding Garret's eyes.

Yeah, right, Garret thought. "Hm. Okay. Rene' and I didn't work things out. Neither did Lily and me. Neither did Maggie and me. So I decided to live the life of a confirmed bachelor who enjoys bourbon, cigars, and jazz….and still has a set of drum in his garage that he bangs on occasionally."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much."

"So why'd you decide to retire?"

"It was time. I had done all I could do with the office…and now it was time to do something I wanted to do. Golf. Travel. Spend some time with Abby and the grandkids. And besides, Jordan was chomping at the bit to get the job."

"Jordan? Jordan wanted your job?" Woody's voice held of note of incredulousness.

"Yeah…believe it or not, our girl finally grew up and got semi-ambitious. She wanted my position and I was ready for her to have it." Garret chuckled at the memory.

Woody digested that tidbit of information. Never…ever….in a million years could he imagine Jordan wanting to be the chief ME. He assumed she had to be hog-tied and bribed to take the position. "I can't imagine…" he finally said.

Garret sighed suddenly and poured himself another finger of Scotch. He knew Woody wanted to talk about her…but there was only so much Garret could tell. The rest would have to come from Jordan – when, and most importantly, if she wanted Woody to know. "Jordan's changed Woody…she had begun coming out of that imposed cycle of self-abuse before you left. She was becoming open …. Loving…not afraid of showing people her emotions." Garret shook his head as if dismissing the memory from his mind. "Then….her life changed so dramatically."

"What do you mean?" Woody asked.

"You heard she got married?"

"Yeah. A couple of months after I left."

"Well, it was actually less time than that. More like a month. She and Jason flew to Vegas to get married….they eloped."

Woody could imagine Jordan doing that…avoiding the pomp and circumstance of a wedding for something far simpler. "That sounds like something she'd do."

Garret nodded. "Then, after they got back home, Jason had to report for active duty again in Iraq."

Woody took in a sharp breath. He had met Jason before he high tailed it out to California to San Diego and Sunny D. He had assumed when he saw the young soldier back in Boston that his tour of duty was over….and that was one of the reasons why Jordan was paying attention to him…Jason would be around for a while.

She must have loved him to marry him and let him go…to wait on him until he returned home…Woody thought. "So what happened?" he asked Garret, almost unthinkingly and only half-listening. He assumed he was going to get a divorce play-by-play.

"In less than year, she was a widow. Jason was killed in the line of duty."

Woody made his way back to his car, his head still reeling with the information that Garret had just passed on to him. So she's not divorced…she's a widow…a widow for Christ's sake. And I was accusing her of being cold…Damn…how much more stupid could I get?

Do you really want an answer to that? His conscious asked.

He ran a hand down his tired face. She was a widow…Jordan was a widow…somehow he couldn't get that out of his mind. Widows are supposed to be little, old ladies with blue or purple hair…not attractive forty-something women.

But she was.

And she had never told him. He had always assumed she was divorced.

Assuming had never gotten him very far in life. He sat there in his car staring unseeingly out the window, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, still processing what this meant.

Grief. Grief does strange things to people. He knew that first hand. It causes the young to mature far more quickly than they should. Grief…with its tsunami like force … makes changes in your life that you have to learn to cope with. And many times that means changing yourself.

So probably…Jordan had grieved her husband…and that grief had brought about the changes Woody saw in her. The new softness….the extra compassion….the warmth. He knew how losing a parent could change you … but that is the course of life. Children know at a certain point in time, they will have to bury their parents.

But losing a spouse? Woody could only imagine the layers of grief and loss Jordan had to go through. Sighing he pulled out of his parking spot when the sharp ringing of his cell phone brought him out of his reverie. He did remember he was on call. "Hoyt," he barked into the receiver.

"Sorry to bother you LT, but there's been a victim found down near the Center Mall and you're up." Framus's voice came across the line loud and clear.

"I'm there," he growled into the receiver as he shoved the gear shift into drive, his thoughts still on her. What a night….what a revelation…Jordan…poor Jordan…lost her husband in the cruelest of ways…Woody wondered just how okay she was really doing. He wasn't sure.

But he'd find out.

He recognized her in the glow of the headlights from the multitude of police vehicles at the scene. Jordan was bent over the victim, taking the liver temperature.

"Hey," he said softly. "What do we have?"

He guessed his changed attitude caught her off guard. The last time he had seen her was when she had turned down his dinner invitation. And he wasn't the most polite person to her then. She looked at him with a startled expression. "He's been dead about four hours, the best I can estimate right now. I'll know more tomorrow."

"Cause of death?" he asked, squatting down beside her and the body and gently putting his hand on hr back. He felt her muscles jump in surprise.

"Blow to the head…blunt force trauma." She turned the man's head over for Woody to look at.

"Ouch. Whatever it was, it hit him hard."

Jordan nodded. "I'll get Nigel on trace with him right away. Your guys couldn't find a wallet or any identification, so someone will need to check him against missing persons – probably in the morning."

Woody nodded. "Are you taking him back to the morgue now?"

"Yeah. I'll do the autopsy first thing in the morning."

Before Woody could reply, Jordan's cell phone rang. Woody noticed her check the caller ID and then stand and step away from him. He continued to pretend to make notes…and continued to pretend not to over hear her conversation.

"Hi," Jordan said. Then. "No… I won't be here much longer, I promise. No. I'm not doing the autopsy tonight. I'll do it tomorrow. So…I'll be home within the hour. You need help with what? Okay…I think I can do that. Yeah. I love you, too." She flipped her phone shut and walked back over the morgue van driver, making sure he could handle the body from there.

"I've got to go, Woody," she said, finally turning back to the detective. "Nigel's set to do trace…and if you need me on this one tonight, give me a call on my cell."

Feigning ignorance, Woody asked, "You have to go answer another field call?"

"No…I just need to get home." And with that, she climbed in her SUV and backed out of the crime scene, her tail lights beaming at him in the cold Boston night.

She's evidently not the grieving widow any longer, Woody thought.

Well, doofus, it's been at least fourteen years since her husband died. What's she supposed to do? Grieve the rest of her life and not move on? His conscious prompted.

But still…he thought, it just doesn't seem….right.

Right for Jason, or right for you – that she has someone she loves that she wants to get home to….and all you have to look forward to at the end of this evening is the left over pizza in the refrigerator and twenty minutes of Jay Leno?

Sometimes Woody thought his conscious was way too verbal for its own good.

Jordan pulled into her driveway with a sigh of relief. She knew that working nights, rotation, and double shifts would always be a part of her job description.

That didn't mean she liked them.

They used to not bother her so much….until she had Will. And the night hours worried Will. Not because he minded staying home by himself, it was that he worried about his mother. Despite the fact she worked with troops of Boston's finest, Will still worried. Jordan pulled her weary body out of the truck and let herself in the house. "Will…I'm home…"

"Hey, Mom," Will emerged from the kitchen and hugged his mother. "Long day?"

"Sort of. Garret coming in was a godsend. And Peter called and said he believed he would feel like coming back tomorrow."

"That's good. Just don't catch the darn flu yourself. I've heard it's bad this year."

Jordan nodded and mussed her son's hair with her fingers. "How's your cough?'

"Hey…don't do that," Will protested, pulling away and running his fingers through his hair to straighten it. "It's better."

"Still seeing Dr. Reed next week, right?'

Will rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I promised."

"And you always keep your promises…" Jordan smiled at him. Sometime he was so much like his father it was scary. "So…what do you want for dinner?"

"Can we order Chinese? We haven't had it in forever."

"Sure. Homework done?"

Will nodded and headed back to the kitchen.

"Even Algebra II?" Jordan called out from behind him.

Will turned and grinned. "Yeah, Mom…even Algebra II."