Chapter Six

Her Run of Luck

It was late…even for Jordan Cavanaugh and her workaholic personality.

She, Jack, Ray, and Lenny had spent most of the evening in the DA's office, putting together the third victim's case after Jordan had completed the autopsy. Betty had deferred any other possible mob-related death to Jordan, as the Boston ME had more than her fair share of experience in that field.

Call it fate, call it chance, call it her run of luck, but Jordan was once again up to her neck in another Albanian case. She was only praying that this one didn't involve Woody and Cal. For all her mixed emotions about Farm Boy, she had no desire to see the two brothers' relationship become any more stalemated and difficult than it already was.

So her thoughts were not in New York as she climbed the stairs to her tiny, studio apartment…they had drifted back to Boston, back to home….back to the people she cared about…even Woody, as strained as their relationship was. So deep in thought, that when she unlocked her apartment and flipped the light on, it took her a minute to register the mayhem…drawers dumped out…her closet turned inside out, her mattresses flipped …Oh my God, she thought, her fingers curling around the cell phone in her pocket, I've been robbed…

A movement behind her snapped her head around. "Hey," she yelled to the figure behind her, "Stop…What are you doing…"

A hard blow to her head was the only reaction she got. Tiny, bright stars filled her vision as the room swam and began to grow dark. Her knees began to give…but she was conscious enough to realize that the robber had left and she was now alone. She shook her head, to push away haziness that threatened to take over her mind. Pulling her cell phone from her pocket, she punched 911 and waited on the operator.

"You're sure Jordan's safe?" Jack asked Rae and Lennie as the men walked out of the DA's office.

"As best we can tell she's not in any danger right now. We're keeping a close eye on her. So far the Albanians haven't done anything to make us think they would go after her," replied Lenny as he held the door open for the other two men. "You two want to go grab a bite to eat before you head home?"

Ray shook his head. "I gotta get home. It's late already…"

"I'll go, Briscoe," Jack said, "I just know from what Hoyt had in his file, they were ready to grab Jordan when she was working the case back in Boston. Wait a minute…" his cell phone went off. "What? Is she okay? We'll be right there. You tell the uniforms not to do anything until Curtis and Briscoe get there, is that clear?"

"What was that about?" Lennie asked.

"It was Officer Dempsey. They got a 911 call from Jordan's apartment. It was broken into…she was hit on the head. I thought you said she wasn't in any danger."

"Is she okay?"

"They think so. She's been checked out by the EMT at the scene, but has refused to go to the hospital."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Lenny asked as they got in their cars to go to Jordan's apartment, arriving a few minutes later to a room swarming with cops. Jordan was sitting on the couch, an icepack held to her head. "Ah, sweetheart, I love what you've done with the place," Lenny teased her.

Jordan tried to smirk back at him, but failed. Her head was hurting too badly. "Yeah, I call it modern burglary. Think it'll catch on?"

Jack knelt in front of her. "Are you okay?" He pushed a curl behind her ear. "Don't you need to go to the hospital for an x-ray or something?"

Jordan gingerly shook her head. "I'm fine…just a headache."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm a doctor, Jack."

Jack stood and conferred with Lennie and Rae for a minute. "Jordan…does it look like anything has been taken?" Lennie asked.

"Not that I can tell. I didn't bring anything of real value with me. The most expensive thing I have in here is my CD player and collection and that wasn't touched. My lap top wasn't taken, either."

Jack gave Lennie a knowing look. Lennie nodded at Rae, who in turn asked Jordan, "Where's your work briefcase, Jordan?"

"My briefcase? I left it locked up in my office. Why?"

Sitting beside her, Lennie took her hand. "Look, Jordan, honey, we don't think this was a random robbery. We think maybe the Albanians were after any information you may have on them, either from here or from Boston."

Jordan tried to shake her head again, wincing at the effort. "But I don't really have that much…"

"Except a history with them," Jack said. "Woody warned you to be careful…."

"Woody is always telling me to be careful," she replied getting up off her couch.

"And maybe you should listen to him occasionally?" Lennie said, grinning at her. He didn't know the whole story between Jordan and Woody, but he knew more than the other two men. Jordan frowned at the detective, then turned her attention to the uniformed officers who were putting up the yellow "Caution: Crime Scene" tape up around her door.

"Oh, damn," she muttered. "Great. I get hit on the head and I can't stay home tonight, either."

"I'd invite you home with me, but all I have a loveseat and a one bedroom apartment. Neither one of us would be very comfortable with that arrangement," Lennie told her.

"Can I get my things?" she asked. Lennie nodded. "I can sleep at the morgue….I used to do that in Boston a lot when I worked late." She began to get her make up, toothbrush, and clothes out of the bedroom, not noticing that Jack had followed her behind her.

"Jordan."

She turned. "Yeah?"

"You can stay with me. I mean, I have a penthouse…two bedrooms. You'd have your own bathroom. It's late already…it would be easier than a hotel and it won't be but for a couple of nights. Plus, you'd be safe."

Safe…that sounded so nice. To be honest, she was dreading being alone after the break-in. The one she had experienced in Boston had rattled her. Being in a strange town without knowing many people…this one had rattled her even more. Especially after what Lennie had said about the possible Albanian connection. She would be safer at Jack's than being at hotel registered under an assumed name.

And she needed to feel safe. The last time she had really felt safe was in Woody's arms…after her first Albanian case.

"Thanks," she finally said, putting her things in a duffle bag. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble and you're sure you don't mind?"

"Bring enough clothes for a couple of days. I want this crime scene thoroughly processed…"

He got her back to his penthouse, a few blocks away from their offices. Neither one of them had said much on the way to his apartment, Jordan still holding the ice pack to her head. "Do you need to go to the hospital…Are you going to be okay?" Jack asked sounding slightly worried.

"Me? Sure…." Jack's concern for her had surprised Jordan. She hadn't had anyone care this much about her in a long time. "Just tell me where the Tylenol and the bed are and I'll be fine." He helped her upstairs and led her to her bedroom.

"If there's anything you need, let me know. There are fresh towels in the bathroom, clean sheets on the bed…"

"Thanks, Jack. I really appreciate it."

Jack grinned and gently pushed her hair off her shoulders. "Just call me if you need me, okay?" He ran a finger down her cheek. "Good night."

"Night." She smiled up at him and saw an answering twinkle in his eyes before he left her alone to undress and get in the bed. Jack walked back into his own room and got ready for bed, showering, and then towel drying his hair. The last woman that he had in his penthouse overnight had been Claire. And she had never used the guest room. Listening carefully after getting out of his bathroom, he heard nothing but silence. Jordan must have fallen asleep by now.

Telling himself, nearly convincingly, that his concern was for her head injury, he padded across the hall and quietly pushed her bedroom door open. She was curled up on her side, away from the door, hugging her pillow, sound asleep. All Jack saw was the soft curve of her body and a tangled mass of chestnut curls. He leaned against the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight.

No, she wasn't Claire. Claire was gone. He missed her. He had grieved for her. A part of him always would.

The woman in his guest bed was Jordan Cavanaugh, a fascinating mixture of intelligence, issues, and …vulnerability. She may not admit it, but she was. Vulnerable. That's what made her so irritating sometimes. She didn't want to admit she needed anyone. And while Jack wasn't so ego-driven that he would say he was who she needed, he did want to accept her just the way she was.

That's what made Jordan, Jordan.

And he didn't want anything less.

"Hey guys," Woody said, coming into the break room at the morgue. "Got any coffee?" He reached for a cup and the pot.

"If you want to live dangerously, yeah, there's some left in the bottom," Lily said over the rim of her Starbucks take-out cup.

"So how'd you rate Starbucks?" Woody asked, grinning at the grief counselor. "Wake up early enough to make a trip through the drive-through?"

"Nope. Matthew brought it to me," she said, returning his grin.

"Detective Seely….ah…I heard you two were becoming an item…"

"I hope so."

"Lily, you don't mean it."

"I do. I really like him, Woody."

Woody took in her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. Yep…she had it bad. "Are you two…" he asked, his voice trailing off.

"Not yet. But it could happen anytime."

Woody smiled at her. "That's great. You seem to bring out his best side."

"He's really a great guy…a little rough around the edges, but his heart's in the right place. And as long as his heart's good, then everything else will work out. So how's Allison?"

Woody tried not to look guilty. After he had pushed Jordan out of his life…he hadn't realized how he had broken her heart…not until much later…after she left to go to New York. Lily had told him, because at the time she was the only one in the morgue that would speak to him. She also had told him that the primary reason Jordan had taken the rotation was to get over him and get on with her life.

Somehow that information had made Allison less appealing. He honestly didn't think he had started dating her to "get back" at Jordan or make her jealous. That would have been using Allison and Woody didn't use people like that. But as time wore on, he began to use work more and more as an excuse to spend less and less time with Allison. Now they were barely seeing each other at all.

And Woody had thought about calling Jordan several times…to check up on her…especially after he had faxed the DA all of his files. But he had lacked the courage to follow through. It wasn't because he didn't think Jordan wouldn't talk to him…no.

He had been afraid of what she might say. I'm over you…I've moved on…

"Woody?" Lily asked. "Did you hear me? How's Allison?"

"Oh, sorry…Allison. She's good."

"Are you bringing her to the Policeman's Ball this year?"

Shit…I forgot all about that…. "Ah…I don't know if she has to work that night or not…Do you know if Jordan might be coming back for that?" he hedged. The Policman's Ball was really a misnomer. It was a function for the Boston PD and all its associates, including the morgue workers.

"Jordan? No…I talked with her last night. She's really involved with that Albanian case there…she's working all the time, as usual. She mainly helps two detectives…a Lenny Briscoe and a Ray Curtis. Ray's a little older, married…Lenny's a lot older, but as Jordan said, a 'real character'."

Woody felt his lungs begin to function again. The last thing he wanted to hear was that Jordan had been paired with some hot and hunky New York detective.

"But I guess I can tell you the best part now…seeing that you two have broken up and you're dating Allison…"

Woody felt his lungs tighten up again. "What is it?" he asked faintly, gripping the break room counter with one hand.

"The DA there…he's older than Jordan…maybe Garret's age…Jordan said they were working closely on the Albanian thing together. She told me he was really nice looking…tall, salt and pepper hair, gorgeous brown eyes…"

Well, as long as she just thinks he's good looking… Woody thought. There's no harm in that…

"Anyway, she's moved into his apartment. They're living together."

The floor could have opened up and swallowed him and he would have been less surprised.

"Liv….living together?" he asked faintly.

"Yeah. Said he's a real sweetheart…really protective…accepts her the way she is …doesn't want her to change a thing…Damn, I wish I could remember his name…I have a feeling we're all going to have to learn it…"

The fog left Woody's head. "Jack McCoy. The DA's name is Jack McCoy."

"That's it…how'd you know?"

"Jordan told me."

"Wow…Jordan called you to tell you she was living with someone? You two really have worked through your issues."

Woody shook his head. "No…she told me when she asked me to fax my information to her on the Albanian mob here in Boston."

"Oh." Lily watched as Woody swallowed the rest of his coffee, his face nearly as white as the Styrofoam cup he shot toward the trashcan when he was through. He mumbled good bye to her on his way out the door.

His cup missed the trashcan, his hand was shaking so hard.

Lily picked the cup up off the floor and smiled at the retreating figure. Shaking and pale. Just the affect she was going for.