Disclaimer: Crossing Jordan is not mine…but I want it to be.

Author's Note: I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! OMG! I feel SO bad for leaving you guys hanging for a really f-ing long time! After camp ended I got lazy and didn't update but then school started and my teachers think that it's really fun to give homework and I'M SORRY! I give my deepest apologies for doing that to everyone. After you read this chapter, 1) read my author's note at the bottom and 2) REVIEW! That being said, here is chapter 4.

Just Another Case

Chapter 4: Maxwell's Silver Hammer

By: Nimmireth

Jordan's stomach sunk like a stone; she feared what was going to happen. She couldn't talk; she wanted to run, get away…escape.

But he just stood there and began to speak. "Allison was a great kid, that's what Janet told me every day. She was a smart and beautiful woman…hard to find these days, they are usually one or the other. I, personally, was devastated when I was at her graduation; I saw her throw her hat with all of her friends and that damn boyfriend of hers. She looked like she was having so much fun. I didn't want her to leave. The last thing I wanted her to see before she died was me…that was my one true wish. And it was granted by none other than myself. She was feeling vulnerable then, she and her husband were in a little argument about their daughter, Nicole. Janet told me that Allison goes to the beach to calm down. That was the best time, when she was vulnerable. But Janet helped me a lot. I learned everything I needed to know about Allison from her. I hated killing her, as well."

Jordan couldn't believe what she was hearing. She gasped and her eyes grew wide.

He took notice of her reaction. "Oh yes…I killed her, too. I hated it, but it was necessary. If it wasn't for you, no one would've found out what I was doing to her. You would've taken it to the police, told everyone what I had done. I couldn't let that happen. I knew that if they knew, then I would go to jail for the rest of my life. No, that's not going to work for me…something had to be done. And now, thanks to your curiosity, you are helping me complete this task."

From his belt pocket he pulled out the hammer while taking multiple steps towards her. Unfortunately for him, she was prepared…on her guard. He took the hammer and swung it to smash her head, but she was able to stop the blow and caught it in her hands. They both had a hold of the hammer now, each of them struggling to gain possession of it.

Jordan got it. In that one victorious moment she ran up the shoreline and threw the hammer as far as she could into the black of the water. She began to run back to her car, but Collin caught up with her. He grabbed her around the shoulders in a big bear hug and knocked her down.

She lifted up her arm and attempted to elbow the murderer, but he caught her arm and rolled her over so that she was facing him. He punched her. She felt blood leaking from her nose. She tried to blind him, but all she managed to do was get some of his skin underneath her fingernails. Angered by this, Collin grabbed both of her wrists and strattled her. He released her arms and promptly began tearing at her clothes.

She began to fight back, swinging her arms in attempt to strike her attacker. She hit him once, but then he hit her back twice. She was really dizzy, but she kept fighting.

She just barely saw him taking off his own pants. He took one hand and grasped her arms while he took his other arm and pressed down hard against her abdomen.

Then Jordan felt a sharp pain inside of her.

Jordan began to sob uncontrollably. She began to think about every one that she knew; her dad, Woody, Garret, Nigel, Bug, Lily…her family. She imagined standing next to Bug during an autopsy; glancing over Nigel matching fingerprints; talking to Lily about next of kin; badgering Garret about how little she was being paid when she was hired for the second time; role-playing with her dad to solve cases; even the time when Woody first came to Boston from Kewanee and asked her if he liked his tie. She loved every single one of them. She was going to miss them so much.

Her thoughts were broken when she heard a faint bleeping noise coming from her jacket pocket. Collin grabbed it and pulled out her cell phone. "Who is calling you?" he asked and showed her the number.

It was Garret's cell phone number. "My boss," she told him.

"What does he want?"

She gulped. "I don't know," she winced.

He thrust the phone in her direction. "Answer it," he commanded.

She flipped it open. "Cavanaugh," she said in a weak voice.

"Hey, Jordan, It's Garret. We have a car pile-up and multiple fatalities at Route 7 and Dennison. I need your help."

She cringed. "Garret, what time is it?"

"It's 2:30, why do you ask?"

"I just wanted to know. Look, Garret, I'm a little preoccupied at the moment, can you call Bug or Nigel or someone else?"

"Everyone is here already and I still need your help."

"Garret, I can't come right now."

"Is everything alright, Jordan?" he asked in his concerned voice.

"Everything's fine, I'm just a little on the busy side right now. I'll talk to you later," and hung up. She didn't even wait for an answer.

"What did he want?" Collin asked again.

"I'm on call," she began to explain with a voice that didn't sound like her own. "There was a car accident on Route 7 and Dennison. He wants me there to help him."

He laughed. "He can wait." He told her taking the phone and throwing it away from the ocean. He continued to hurt her while she cried. She would have sold her apartment to be with Garret at the car pile-up on Route 7 and Dennison. She wanted to be anywhere but the local beach. "Stop," she whispered.

"What did you say?"

"Stop. Please, don't hurt me," she begged in a quiet, timid tone.

He laughed. "A little too late for that, Dr. Cavanaugh," he told her as her punched her again.

She winced. "No. Please. Stop. Don't hurt me. Leave me alone. I'll do anything."

He chuckled again. "Oh, no. I don't need you to give me anything. I don't need anything. What I need is to stay here and watch you as you grovel. Beg for mercy. Cry like a little girl."

She sobbed. "Don't hurt me please. Please. Let me go. I won't say a thing. I won't tell anyone anything," she offered.

"As much as I like the sound of that, I don't think I can trust you into keeping it quiet. What just happened must die. You must die," he told her and pulled from his pocket a knife. A pocket knife. A red-handled, sharp, shiny pocket knife. "You were just like Allison. You fought. Then you groveled. Begged. Offered anything you could. But I would not accept. Then I took out my knife and stabbed her on her left side, went home and waited until the perfect opportunity to call 9-1-1. Now, I know what you're thinking; they'll suspect something, they'll suspect me. You told everyone you thought it was me. And when they find your body, they'll know. So I'm going to run, leave. Maybe I'll go visit my mother's grave. Then I'll live with my sister, Anna, for a while. She lives in Orlando, Florida. I'll tell her that I'm having money issues. She'll give me money; and I can get a new life: fake I.D, new house, new job, and all that other stuff. I'll be living a new and great life while you would have gotten what you deserved."

He stood up, put her clothes back on as best as he could and knelt down next to her. He rolled her over so that her left side was upward. Jordan screamed as she felt a searing pain as the knife pierced through her skin and bumped against her left hip. He heaved the knife from her side and just left her there. The sand around her slowly turned from tan to red as she bled.

Her vision became blurred and again she heard a soft bleeping noise from a distance. She got on all fours and began to crawl to it, wheezing. She felt a lump in the sand and knew she had reached her phone. She picked it up without even looking at the number. "Cavanaugh," she said, almost out of breath and gasping for air.

It was Garret again. "Jordan, I called you an hour ago. We still have a lot of fatalities. I need you here, where are you?"

Her side suddenly began to hurt more than it already did. She moaned and continued to search for air. She couldn't speak. Her eyes could only see the red of the sand and a huge hole in her hip.

"Jordan? Jordan, are you alright? Jordan! JORDAN!"

Author's Note: You hate me now, don't you? No flames, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease! Now just because this happened does NOT mean that you can stop reading this story. It WILL get better…I promise. Now you may review.