Chapter Three
Boom
It finally happened. The same afternoon that the doctor had released him from desk duty…he had a homicide call and the answering ME would have to be Jordan. Woody groaned inwardly but told himself the sooner they faced each other, the better. Go ahead and get it over with. After all, it had been nearly a year. Tempers had cooled. Feelings had changed. It couldn't be that bad, could it?
In a word, yes.
It was, by a homicide detective's call, an easy case. Man verses truck. Truck wins. What wasn't easy was looking in those honey-brown eyes that still showed the same measure of hurt as they did all those months ago in his hospital room, even though she quickly tried to mask it by turning away from his intense gaze. "What do we have, Dr. Cavanaugh?" he asked, determined to keep things on a professional level with the woman he once would have sold his soul for to have in his bed.
"A hit and run, it looks like," Jordan replied, keeping her head lowered as she examined the body. If Woody was going to play distant, so was she. There was no reason to hang her heart out there just to be shot down again. And Howard had said to move on, it was the healthiest thing for her.
Howard didn't tell her that moving on was going to hurt like hell.
"Any chance you can tell me the make and model of the vehicle by what you've got there?"
"Not until I get the body back to trace and see if we can get any paint flakes off him…and then have Bug run them against our data bases."
"How long will that take?"
Jordan shrugged. "I'm not sure, Detective. We've already got a back log, since I was out with the flu. Now Nige is sick with it…"
"Can you at least give me a ball park estimate?"
Jordan looked up at him then, slight anger gleaming in her eyes then. "No. I can't. You'll have to take a number and wait just like Seely or Cruz or Santana. They're waiting on their cases, too."
"Jordan. I don't have to tell you this is my first case since I was placed back on active duty today. I need to look good."
"And you'll have the information as soon as I can get to it." She glared at him one more time.
Woody reached down and helped her to her feet, taking her arm and pulling her out of earshot of the other detectives. "You don't have to be so damn difficult."
"I'm being difficult? Who died and suddenly left you in charge of my schedule? Don't think that just because you're back on active duty that I'm going to start putting your cases ahead of everyone else's like…" she stopped and swallowed hard.
"Like you used to? No. I don't expect that. Just don't be so bitchy. What's the matter? Your time of the month?"
"That's none of your business," she hissed. "And totally uncalled for. If you're questioning our backlog, call Bug. He'll set you straight."
Woody looked in her eyes for a moment. "Okay. I'm going to check with the black and whites and see if someone…anyone…got at least a partial license plate number. Meanwhile, take our guy back to the morgue. And get to him as soon as possible."
"Will do….Detective." Jordan pulled away from him and stormed off, telling the morgue van drivers to load the body and meet her at the crypt.
Woody stopped and ran a shaky hand down his face. Feeling drained, he made his way over to his car and got in. This call with her had been disastrous. And they were both to blame. Emotions were still raw and they both had reacted badly. Maybe he had seriously underestimated the extent of her feelings. Maybe he had seriously underestimated both of their feelings, he mused when a sudden rap on his window brought him back to the present. He rolled the window down. "What is it now, Jordan?"
"It's Dr. Cavanaugh. I talked with Bug. We can work your victim in first thing tomorrow morning. That's when I'm back in trace. I'm working a double tonight, so just to get your boxers out of a wad, if you have another call tonight, I'm the answering ME. And welcome back….Detective Hoyt."
Jordan took the long way back to the morgue. As a matter of fact, Bug had told her to take her time. He had recognized that waver in her voice when she had called in and told him that Woody had requested they expedite trace on his victim. "Stop and get you a Starbucks or something," he said. "You're pulling a double. Take one of your breaks now and get yourself together."
She had gratefully accepted, glad that her co-workers realized just how difficult it was for her to work through this heartbreak. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she remembered their argument…and compared it to how it used to be between them…and how much she missed Woody and still loved him.
Howard said to let him go…and move on, she thought as she sipped her coffee. That's the best thing to do…the healthiest thing to do. I've got to do it. I have to. I guess it was just hard seeing him for the first time after nearly a year. I don't know what I was expecting, but certainly not a fight. And not his cold, kick-ass-and-take-names attitude, either. I'll be better prepared for him next time. Next time he won't hurt me…
Swallowing the rest of her coffee, she shot the cup in the trashcan and drove back to the morgue. She may still love him, but it was obvious he was well over her and had moved on with his life. He had his legs back…he had his old job back…he didn't want her back. Well, however much she still cared, she would have to move on herself. Resolutely, she decided to pull her little, black book out and dust it off as soon as she got off work. Surely there was someone in there that would still be interested in going out with her.
And surely she could move on, too. She took the elevator back up to her office with a little more spring in her step.
"That must have been good coffee," Bug remarked, noting the change from her despondent attitude on the phone to one with a more positive outlook.
"You know, Bug, I've been thinking…."
"And it's always dangerous when you do," he grinned back.
"No, seriously. Have you ever done an autopsy and declared that the death was the result of a broken heart?"
Bug paused a moment, not sure exactly where his co-worker was going with this. He and Jordan had been through a lot together and it had bothered him greatly to see her suffering over the loss of Woody in her life. "No…" he answered cautiously.
"Neither have I. I'll get over this thing I had with Woody. I'll move on…I'll find someone else. Right?"
Bug smiled. Maybe Jordan had seen the light. "Right," he told her. "And if you're interested, I know someone I think would be good for you to meet. Nothing may become of it, but he's an oncologist at Boston General."
"Set it up. I'm open to suggestions," she began when she was interrupted by her radio going off. She grimaced as she answered the call. It was Woody. Someone had called in a possible homicide of an entire family in a house just off Lee Street.
"I need you at the site ASAP." She couldn't tell if his radio signal was breaking up or he was intentionally barking the order into his Nextel.
"Speak of the devil," Bug muttered under his breath. "Want me to take it instead?"
"Nope. I'm good. I'm getting over him. And this is a good way to put my new attitude into play."
"Go get 'em, Tiger," Bug replied, giving her a thumbs up and a slap on the back before she sprinted down the hall.
Cal had been tailing Woody all afternoon. As soon as his brother had left his office at lunch to go to the doctor, Cal had been on him. It helped that Woody didn't know what kind of rent-a-wreck he was driving, but Cal couldn't believe that Woody hadn't spotted him. The only excuse Cal could think of was that Woody was concentrating so hard on his job now that he was off desk duty that he wasn't paying attention.
He had seen the interaction between Jordan and his brother at the hit and run scene. Jordan had looked crushed and then incredibly angry. Woody had just looked pissed the whole time. He pitied both of them if things kept up this way. Idly he wondered just how long they could work together before one of them threw in the towel and requested a transfer. And both of them were so damn stubborn that he couldn't foresee which one would give up first.
Cal sighed. He needed to talk to Woody one more time…try to get his attention. If he didn't, Cal was afraid that Woody was going to get so wrapped up in his job now that he was back on active duty that Woody would forget his brother was in town. Cal would have to leave without coming to any resolution or restitution with him or Jordan. Slowly, Cal tailed Woody to the Lee Street location.
He spotted his brother on the steps of the house, supervising the crime scene and waiting on the ME, which Cal assumed would be Jordan again. He inwardly shuddered to think what would happen between the two this time. Cautiously, he approached his brother. "Woods?"
"Calvin. What are you doing here? And how did you know where I…never mind I don't want to know."
"So what's up here, Woody? Seems a little too suburbia for a mass murder or anything…"
And before Woody could stop himself, he fell into the role of big brother, explaining how things worked to little brother. "That's where you're wrong. A neighbor called in and said he hadn't seen this family for a few days…the cars didn't leave the drive way…wanted us to check on them. A black and white answered the call…and found the entire family deceased."
"Wow…guess that just goes to show that appearances can be deceiving and you never know what's going on with your neighbors that they're not sharing with you at the block parties."
Woody grinned. This was going to be his first big case since being back on active duty…he could feel it. Now if a certain ME didn't mess him up, he might just regain the ground he lost since being confined to a desk. The thought of making good to his lieutenant made him feel a little more generous towards Cal. "I guess so."
Cal took Woody's smile as a good omen. He decided to press his luck. "Are you going in?"
"Yeah. The scene is secure. I'm sending the black and whites away. It'll just be me and the other two detectives until Jordan decides to show up."
"Mind if I go in with you?"
Woody threw him a cautious look. "Just don't touch anything." He lifted the yellow crime scene tape for Cal to walk under. Woody pushed open the door to the house and told the uniform officers they could leave now…and so could the crime scene photographer when he was done. "The ME is on her way…she'll take it from there…." The officers filed out and were soon gone. Cal followed his brother around the crime scene, careful to obey orders and not touch anything.
But something had caught Cal's attention…an annoying smell he kept trying to place. Finally, it rang a bell. "Say, Woods, do you smell gas?"
Before Woody could open his mouth, the house went up with a boom and was engulfed in flames.
