Chapter 8

Divide and Conquer

Boston is cold this time of year. Wet and frigid, not unlike the winters of my youth. I admit I've become spoiled by tropical breezes and tranquil seas. It's a weakness that I'll need to overcome because there is work to be done. Thankfully, it is time like this that our business technique is most efficient. Machiavelli said it best: divide et impera. Divide and conquer. Two marks. One an old associate, the other an unfortunate causality. The first will be as the American's say: a piece of cake. The other only slighter more complicated. It is only a matter of days, maybe hours, before our objective is located. Tracking used to take legwork, now it just a simple the click of a button. Once we are done we can we back to the quiet where we belong.

By the time Eddie turned his phone back on there were five new messages. Two from his office in Springfield...the third from a concerned Roz...the fourth, a short 'Call me ASAP' from Hoyt and the last...the last was from Jordan. His heart broke when he heard her voice. It didn't take a detective to put together the messages and figure out what happened. The cat was out of the bag. Eddie jumped in his car and drove to the address on Pearl Street Jordan had given him the first day he was back.

The building looked like Jordan, a little rough around the edges but full of charm. He could see right away why she called it home. At first he thought she wasn't there until he saw a shadow pass the crack under the big, red door. He pounded one more time.

"Jordan, I know you're in there. Open up."

Jordan opened the door gingerly. Silently, she stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, then shrugged when it became apparent that he wasn't going to take the hint and leave. Leaving him standing there in the doorway, Jordan curled back up on the couch pulling a pillow in front of her. It was pitiful security in the face of the week she'd had experienced, but it was all she had.

"If you are here to blow smoke up my ass, I'm sorry but you'll have to excuse me if I don't give a damn anymore..." Her voice was deceptively calm.

"Jordan," Eddie said softly.

Her voice shook as she spoke. "I should've guessed that all that special attention had nothing to do with us. It was all an act. You and Dad dug yourselves into a hole and I was your excuse out. Damnit Eddie! You should have told me."

"What good would it have done? You were safe. That's what counted. We saw to that..."

"And spending all those nights with me? Was that just part of the protection?" Jordan spit out bitterly.

At the time she knew their relationship was hitting a cool spell. She naively thought Eddie's attentions were because he wanted to make things work between them.

"Jordan, it wasn't like that and you know it," Eddie chastised

"It all makes sense now. Taking me to class, picking me up for dinner, never letting me out of your sight... You claimed there was a rash of attacks in my neighborhood. Two perps, fair-haired and foreign sounding. The Brothers, I think you called them. Was that a lie too...or did you know who was out there?"

"...We had our suspicions," Eddie admitted quietly.

Jordan laughed. It was a lifeless laugh. "I just spent the better part of the afternoon being grilled by Woody, of all people. He was adamant I knew something about this case. I told him I didn't. Because I didn't know what were lies and what weren't. You never told him about these...brothers...have you?"

"It was just an Easter egg hunch Jordan," Eddie explained. "When Yokura and Max came up with this theory about dual hitmen, there was only one pair on file that fit the profile. Dmitri and Yuri Krouchkov. They were contact killers from the Ukraine. Back then they based themselves out of New York. The feds connected their M.O. to at least a couple dozen hits all up and down the east coast. It was a stretch to believe they'd be involved in the Rosen murders, but Max..."

Jordan's voice rose to a shrill. "But Max what Eddie? But Max didn't want to get his feet wet, so he backed out and gave up?"

"They, or whoever it was, threatened your life Jordan. We decided we couldn't take the chance," Eddie justified.

"And let two killers walk. Do you think they up and quit right then and there? How many more people died because you let them walk?"

"Your safety was all we cared about."

"Apparently my safety was all you ever cared about," Jordan's whisper was deceptively calm.

Eddie brushed a stray strand of hair off her shoulder and cupped her chin in his palm. Jordan pulled away but still watched him and felt like a fool.

"I loved you, Jordan."

It wasn't that long ago she would have believed he had just handed her the world with the sound of those words. Now she didn't know how she felt. Jordan took a deep breath and wiped her thumbs under her eyes.

"He needs to know," she stated clearly.

Eddie stood and began to pace.

"I've already called one of my contacts at the Bureau. The Krouchkovs left the country years ago. As far as they are concerned the Russians are someone else's problem now."

"If your theories are correct they killed two people here in Boston. The Krouchkovs are our problem. He needs to know Eddie," Jordan insisted.

Eddie stopped and looked at his watch.

"...You're right," he admitted. "When he's at Quantico, Hailey's never out of his office before they threaten to turn off the lights on him. I'll have him fax me what he's got..."

"Hailey?"

"Drew Hailey. He's a criminal profiler for the Bureau ...and one hell of a poker player," Eddie added with a grin. "He helped us out on a kidnapping case last year. He's one of the good guys, Beautiful. Why?"

"Nothing," Jordan smiled in spite of herself. "I just thought I heard the name somewhere before...that's all."

Eddie cocked an eyebrow. There was more to her reaction and he knew it. He made a mental note to ask Hailey about the enigmatic Jordan Cavanaugh the next time they met.

"I'm sorry Jordan. I'm sorry about everything," Eddie said softly

Instinctively, Jordan knew he wasn't talking about the case anymore. The corner of her lip curled nostalgically.

"I spent the morning down by the inlet," Eddie continued. "You remember the one where I kept that boat?"

Jordan chuckled softly thinking about the rickety, old, sail boat Eddie nursed along for as long as she knew him. It was more of a dingy then anything and Eddie didn't know a thing about sailing. They'd just sit out on the deck and watch the real sailboats float by. He'd dream about running away together. She'd dream about leaving her demons behind.

Jordan nodded. "That thing took on more water then it displaced. Whatever happened to it?"

"A nor'easter. I'm sure in makes a better lobster pot than it did a sailboat."

"I should have run away with you when I had the chance," she said with a devilish smile.

"How far do you think we would have made it before we tried to kill each other?"

"It would have been a moot point. That thing you called a boat we wouldn't have made it past the Longfellow Bridge before it sunk."

Eddie touched her again. This time Jordan didn't move. She leaned into him looking for the warmth of another human being. Something she hadn't felt in a very long time. The old habits of youth fell into place and their lips met.

Eddie traced the seam of Jordan's lips with the tip of his tongue until she opened them. It was a dance they had danced many times before.

The steps were same, but the music was gone.

Even so, they both were reluctant to pull away.

Eddie tenderly kissed her eyelids and whispered, "I love you, Beautiful. I always did and I always will."

Jordan nodded and stepped out of his arms. For a moment she felt like that young woman who fell head over heels in love with her father's handsome, new partner. She was so different then; a girl, really. A girl that brought more baggage to their relationship then the just the usual overnight bag. In hindsight, they never really had a chance to work. Those same ghosts couldn't put a claim on her heart like they did before...but now new ones had taken their place and they must have shown in her eyes.

"He's a good man, Jordan."

"Maybe, but that ship sank to the bottom of the sea, too, Eddie," Jordan laughed uncomfortably.

"No, it didn't. He cares about you Jordan. I can see it every time he looks at you."

Like the flick of a mercury switch, Jordan's answer was to open the door. "He got tired of waiting, just like you did. It's for the best. We'd..."

"We'd what Jordan?" Eddie gently probed.

"I'm on duty tonight and it's a full moon. You know how that can go...I need to get some rest."

"I've done all I can for Hoyt with the Rosen case. I'm leaving tomorrow."

Jordan wished she had it in her to ask him to stay. Instead she just nodded. "...I understand."

"If I don't see you..."

Jordan cleared her throat and found the last bit of strength she could find. She painted on her best Cavanaugh smile and said, "Sure. I'd say let's keep in touch...but you know how that works..."

Eddie kissed her softly. "I do."

She waved good bye as he walked down the hallway and slowly out of her heart.

After a long shower and change of clothes, Captain Winslow signed himself into the quiet nineteenth precinct bull pen and commandeered Roz's desk to make a quick call to DC. As he suspected, Hailey was still in his office. A few jokes and a bribe of cold beer, hot brats, and Green Monster tickets the next time he was in Massachusetts, Hailey shot out everything the Bureau had on the Krouchkovs.

Eddie was picking up the last fax when a call came into the bull pen. There was a suspicious death at county lock up. The same place Charles Campbell was being held. The same Charles Campbell that sang about the Rosens. The reason that brought Eddie back to Boston in the first place...

For most people the phone ringing in the middle of the night meant bad news. For Woody bad news was just a part of life. He rolled over and groped for the phone in the blue light of the television screen.

"..Yeah, Hoyt."

Twenty minutes later Woody was walking down the caged halls of the county lock up. Rounding the corner in to solitary confinement he saw Capt. Winslow. Woody briefly wondered if the man slept in the Brooks Brothers suit he was wearing. On second thought, Woody took in the perfectly pressed lines and realized the man probably never slept. The more Woody dwelled on it, he figured Winslow probably kept his suit in the bat cave with the rest of his cool toys...

Woody felt like the unmade bed he resembled. Unfortunately, his condition had very little to do with the fact that his rest was interrupted by the death of the one and only key they had on a decade old murder case. Guilt was a cold-hearted bitch.

"Routine rounds are every thirty minutes. They found him lying face down on the floor," Eddie said the second Woody was in range. "It was too late for CPR."

Woody looked around the corner of the small cell. Charles Campbell lay on the cold concert floor frothing at the mouth. Around him was a pool of liquid. By the pungent odor Woody could only surmise the man's bladder let go as he lay dying...or sometime before. Fear and death can do uneasy things to the body. Woody had been around long enough to know they were either looking at an OD or poison. It would be up to the M.E.'s to figure out which.

After letting out a stream of words that could make a sailor blush, Woody ran his hands through his hair sending his already messy locks into a state of total disarray.

"How the hell did this happen?" he asked a near by prison official. The man looked like he was waiting for his head to roll on a platter. Woody grinned. Apparently, Winslow got to him first. Instead of waiting for the poor man to pee his pants like Campbell had Woody turned his attention to the captain.

"They're looking at the entry records and video as we speak. There were three guards on duty for this wing. Nobody saw anything."

Woody pointed out to the general lock up area, "Anybody talking yet?"

Eddie shook his head.

"How the hell can somebody just waltz into county lock up, get into solitary, and kill someone?"

Eddie grinned grimly. "This isn't my jail..."

Jordan pulled her hair back in a sloppy ponytail and flashed her badge to the half dozen uniforms standing outside the entrance. She was exhausted. The day she had had left her drained. She almost called Garret to cry off of this crime scene, but she decided against it. It wasn't like she as going to be able to get any sleep. Her thought were too haunted. Work would be a much welcome relief. That and a cup of joe.

A young uniform escorted her inside. She shifted the weight of her kit in her hands as she squeezed through the crowded corridor to the section of the jail that segregated solitary from the rest of the inmate population. Her head was screaming for caffeine as she followed the flashes of the crime scene investigators cameras.

Over the last few days sleep had been nonexistent at best. Every time she closed her eyes her mind was bombarded with images from the past. Images she thought she had long since buried. For years Jordan thought she had come to accept and categorize her feelings for Eddie only to realize it took one last kiss to really put them in perspective. It gave her hope that she was well on her way with dealing about Woody, too. She hoped a kiss wasn't what it took. She didn't want to take that chance. She had a feeling that just one wouldn't be enough.

"I need a life," she mumbled to herself.

"Did you say something Dr Cavanaugh?" her escort asked.

"Ah...I think this is my stop," she pointed at the doorway that was lined with CSU.

Like the preverbal bad pennies the two subjects of too many of her thoughts were kneeling over the body of an inmate.

Standing there, now, with their heads together, they were so different from each other...yet so the same. Eddie was always cool efficiency. A man that led with his mind and not his heart...even where Jordan was concerned. He offered her stability in a time of her life when her grip on reality was growing shaky. Now, he was mellower. The lines around his eyes said he smiled more. Eddie Winslow was a man that was finally comfortable in his skin. Woody on the other hand was like a volcano laying low until the next time to erupt. His naiveties and anxieties melted away and left a man that took life by the balls and never let go. That was until a bullet brought his mortality into his consciousness. He's matured, settled down and aged twenty years over night.

Now she felt like she didn't know either of them from Adam.

"The M.E. is here," The uniform yelled.

Jordan picked here way though the suits and CSU to come face to face between the two.

"...Let me guess..." she quipped.

"It looks like my travel plans have officially been put on hold."

"I'm glad," Jordan smiled softly.

Woody cut in. "I hate to break up this happy moment, but there is a dead guy on the floor that is not getting any warmer. I need to know who did this."

Jordan visibly bristled at Woody's tone. "What have you got so far?" she asked as she pulled on a set of gloves.

Woody looked at Winslow over the top of her head. "Not a damn thing. I was hoping you could change that while we wait for the village idiots to cue the surveillance tapes."

"Your idiots, not mine," Eddie added.

Jordan was feeling a little like the filling of a testosterone sandwich. "Let me by and I'll see," she argued.

Eddie and Woody parted like the Red Sea and let her through.

Jordan began her examination. "The urine is dark. His jaw is clamped the posture of his body arching of the neck and back, there are signs of muscle spasms." She opened Campbell's mouth. "His larynx is collapsed -- possible respiratory failure. I'll have to run a toxic screen, but if I were to make an early guess, I'd say we're looking at poison. Probably Strychnine."

The same officer that escorted Jordan to the scene reappeared. "Capt. Winslow...Det. Hoyt. I think they found something. "

"What?" Eddie asked.

"Two employees logged in two hours before the body was found. One was an off duty guard, the other a medic. When the officials double checked one wasn't answering his phone and the other was reported to be found unconscious in an alley behind his apartment building.

"I want an APB out on the missing guard," Woody said.

"Anything else?" Eddie asked.

"The video feed shows two unidentified males in this section about ten minutes before the body was found..."

Jordan's head snapped up at the mention of two suspects. Eddie was not looking at the patrol cop. He was looking at Jordan and his face was as white as his starched shirt.