Chapter Seven

A Glimmer of Sweet Hope

The case was going to hell in a handbag.

At least from Woody's perspective….so far, he and Jordan had turned up nothing…nothing… to substantiate his hunch that the tainted heroin was produced in Coldstream. They had followed every lead, from known heroin contacts in Louisville to questioning recent purchases from hardware stores that would lead someone to believe there was a lab somewhere in the area.

They all had led down a dead end road. Woody was ready to throw up his hands in disgust and go home – work on finding more information about this heroin case elsewhere. Just one thing stopped him.

Going back to Boston would mean giving up Mrs. Hoyt.

And he was enjoying watching every minute of Jordan adjusting to her new last name too much to go back home and toss the marriage license in the garbage can.

He grinned as he remembered their first day back at the sheriff's department after being married by the Judge. John caught the glint of their rings immediately, pushed his sheriff's hat back on his head, and smiled widely. "So….old man Thomas got to you…."

Woody looked uncomfortable and didn't know what to say. It was Jordan who saved his pride. "We've been together for a while now…dating. And have been talking about getting married for the last several months…but what with Woody's schedule and my schedule…it's just made it hard. So when Judge Thomas…."

"Gave you a fit about renting the cabin and not being married, you decided to kill two birds with one stone, mix business with pleasure, and go ahead and tie the knot," John finished.

"Something like that," Woody murmured.

"Then congratulations….Mrs. Hoyt," Sheriff Sanders said, emphasizing the last word for Jordan and giving Woody a knowing pat on the back. Woody felt his ears turn red and turned to look at Jordan…who preceded to calmly walk into their office with all the serenity of a woman who took marrying her co-worker as just part of her job description.

And for some reason, that rankled him.

He had expected more protest from her…or perhaps he anticipated that she would refuse to wear her wedding ring except during the times when they may come in contact with Ruth or Judge Thomas. But no….it stayed on her hand.

Just like his ring stayed on his finger.

Ruth had come by the next day to see Jordan at the sheriff's department, just as she had promised she would. She and Jordan went to lunch and when Jordan returned, Woody had asked her how it went and what they talked about. Jordan had simply smiled and called Ruth a "precious woman who told me everything I ever wanted to know about marriage."

Woody didn't want to ask what that meant. All he knew was that Jordan was seemingly enjoying wearing his last name…it was as easy for her to slip into as those old, tight jeans she was so fond of wearing.

And he was so fond of looking at her in. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. It was a good thing she was in Louisville right now….a body had come in. Possible heroin overdose. Jordan had taken their rental car and drove into the morgue there and would be back to pick him up later…he prayed that whatever she found would somehow put them back on the trail of the killer. He was so deep in thought that when his cell phone rang, he nearly jumped out of his skin. "Hoyt," he managed to say into the mouthpiece.

"Hi honey…you sound tired….hard day at the office?" her voice teased over the phone line.

"Funny, Jordan. Funny. And yes, it has been a hard day," he blew out a sigh. There was no need for him to take his frustrations out on her. "I just can't seem to put this case together…it's like a house of cards…it just keeps falling apart…tell me you've got something…please."

"I think I do…We found something on the victim's pants and shoes. Have you ever heard of Diphasiatrum digitatum… also known as Lycopodium flabelliforme?"

"Are you ordering from an Italian menu? If so, I just want spaghetti and meatballs.."

Jordan chuckled. "Diphasiatrum digitatum is ground-cedar or running-cedar. It's native to the Bluegrass area and it's on the endangered plant list for Kentucky…"

"Fascinating Jordan. What does this have to do with the case?"

"The victim died of poisoned heroin…heroin with Strychnine. But he had the running cedar in his pant's cuff and in the tracks of his shoes…"

"And this has to do with what?"

"Coldstream is one of the places that Diphasiatrum digitatum grows wild…as a matter of fact, there's a heavy growth of it near the county recreation center…out towards the ball fields…according the research guys here at the Louisville morgue…."

"Gotcha….I'm on it…."

"Just….Woody….be careful…."

"Yes, honey…will do," he teased back before hanging up the phone. Damn that woman was good….

Two hours later, a search of the ball fields had turned up a few more things…First, Jordan had sped back from Louisville to join him in the search. John had called in his part-time deputy, Arnie, and they all began to search the playing fields behind the recreation center. They had discovered a heavy growth of the running cedar and fresh footprints. Jordan had made a mold of the shoe prints to carry back to the morgue and compare with the victim's shoes.

But no heroin.

Woody had nearly screamed in disgust and frustration. With this luck, God knows how many more people are going to die and I'm going to be stuck in narcotics forever….

"Looks like that's it, boys," Jordan said, finally snapping off her flashlight when they got back to their cars. "That's all we got tonight. I want to come back tomorrow and look around when there's better light…."

"I'll come with you Dr. Cav….Dr. Hoyt," volunteered Arnie, who had looked at Jordan with unabashed admiration all evening.

And for some reason that really irritated Woody…added just another layer to his disgust and frustration.

It got no better when Jordan had turned to the deputy and smiled her most charming smile and replied, "Thanks…that would be great."

Woody was sure that even in the dim light of dusk he saw the young man blush before he responded again…"Well, snakes are out this time of year…you don't need to be gettin' bit or anything…"

"Ah….snakes…." Jordan replied. "So not my favorite reptile. I'd appreciate you coming with me then…tomorrow morning?"

Woody swore the man blushed again before he nodded, got in his truck, and drove away. John followed soon afterwards, taking the molded footprint with him back to the sheriff's department. Woody and Jordan were left, loading her equipment in the car. "I'll get that…" she told him, bending down to pick up a case."

"I can get it, Jordan. I'm not a cripple…" Woody retorted, his edginess evident in his voice.

"I didn't say you were," she replied softly, a little taken back at his tone, "I just don't want you to hurt your back…"

"I'm not going to hurt my back…" he said, his voice still forceful. She dropped the bag at his feet, without saying another word and got into the car. He picked it up, put it in the trunk and slammed it shut. Then he started the car to drive them back to the cabin.

It was mostly a silent ride….until she finally asked what he knew she was going to. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing."

She gave him a sideways glance, taking in the frustrated lines on his forehead and around his mouth. "It's a good lead, Woody. And I think it will pan out into something. I'll take the footprint with me tomorrow and if we can put our victim here…"

"I know that…" he cut in sharply.

"Then what the hell is eating you?"

He was silent for a minute. "You are…" he finally said.

"Me? What did I do?"

"What did you do?" He slammed his fist on the steering wheel. "I swear…"

"All I've done is try to help you…"

"That's not it."

"Then what is?"

Silence again for a minute. "Do I have to remind you that you are supposed to be a married woman…and you need to act like it in order for us to carry this ….charade out?"

"So this is all about me…and what I'm doing wrong? May I remind you that it was your suggestion that we get married?" They had arrived at the cabin by now and she was out of the car in a heartbeat, moving away from him quickly. Woody found himself struggling to keep up. She unlocked the door and threw it open so fast, he nearly stumbled in the entrance way.

"You just need to be careful…quit flirting so much."

"Flirting? With who?"

"Arnie…"

"The deputy? I was just being nice, Woody. You're always telling me to play nice."

"Nice doesn't mean leading a man on…especially with you being Mrs. Hoyt."

"I'm sure Arnie didn't take it that way…"

"And I'm sure he did," Woody said smoothly, covering the space between them in the small kitchen. "You forgot…I'm a man…I know how we think…"

"Yes. I know you're a man…and that you don't think half the time…God…you can be such an asshole, Woody."

Drawing in a deep breath, he struggled to keep his anger under control….lowering his voice, he continued, "We have to be convincing here as a married couple…so just….be careful…just act like you're really….Mrs. Hoyt," he finished.

"I am.," she replied, her voice equally as low, but fire burned in her eyes. "Now your wife is going to bed. I suggest you do the same. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day and both of us will need our rest." She stormed off to her bathroom to put on her pajamas and wash her face. Somewhere between that and brushing her teeth she heard Woody go upstairs and slam the door to his bedroom. Shrugging her shoulders and wiping her mouth, she thought, serves him right…I hope he is upset…as upset as I am…

The truth was glaringly apparent to Jordan. She had enjoyed playing Woody's wife. She had nearly bolted the first time someone had called her Mrs. Hoyt, but after that, it took on a comfortable feeling…like she was … well, home.

She sighed as she pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and settled in for bed. She hadn't meant to offend him…she would apologize tomorrow….let him stew tonight….

She just hoped he would know she was sincerely sorry if she had hurt him….again.

Regret can be a cold-heated bitch.

And regret coupled with guilt can be even worse.

That's what Woody was finding out as he tried to sleep. Jordan was right…tomorrow was going to be a busy day and he needed to rest, as she did…but somehow closing his eyes and drifting off into oblivion was eluding him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her…in the red dress…looking at him with hurt filled eyes when he kicked her out of his hospital room…the concern in her eyes the other afternoon when he admitted to her that his back was killing him…

The soft look on her face after he had kissed her at their wedding…for just the briefest of moments then he didn't see hurt or concern or pity…but a glimmer of sweet hope at what might have been between them.

Then she had quickly dropped her eyes and turned away.

It was the glimpse of hope that had allowed Woody to pursue at least a more friendly tact with Jordan while they were in Kentucky…and she had responded likewise. It had been going well.

Until tonight, when all the jealousy in his soul over her hurled itself to the forefront. It had been bad enough that Danny McCoy had called her several times from Vegas while they were in Coldwater. Jordan never breathed a word about her nuptials, just chatted with him and hung up. And then Arnie tonight….not that Arnie was Jordan's type of man…no. But McCoy could be, if Jordan let him…

And if regret was a cold-hearted bitch, jealousy was truly her green-eyed monster on a leash. Despite the fact that he had told her to get out of his life, he no longer wanted her, he still did not want her to say the words she had said to him to another man…Don't leave me…please, don't leave me…I love you.

Somewhere in a secret place in his mind, he believed she had reserved those words for him and him alone. To think she would ever say those words to another man….

Well, just made him furious.

Despite the fact he had no right to feel that way, Woody rolled over and determinedly tucked his pillow beneath his head. Thank God the muscle relaxers were beginning to kick in…maybe he'd get some relief soon…

Somewhere in the early morning hours, Jordan heard him begin to move about upstairs. She rolled over and cracked an eye open…glancing at the large red numbers on her alarm clock….3:30…a.m. Far too early to get up. She rolled back over, thinking that he was just getting up to go to the bathroom.

Then she heard him cry out.

Oh, God, his back….was her frantic thought as she took the stairs two at a time to get to him…I told him not to over do it… She threw open the door to his bedroom…to find he was dreaming….

But it wasn't pleasant dreams….he was reliving his shooting…Jordan went and sat on the side of the bed next to him. "Woody," she whispered as she instinctively brushed the hair off his forehead and gently shook him. "Woody…it's a bad dream, baby….wake up…"

The second shake did seem to wake him up…he bolted straight up and into her arms. "Oh God…" he whispered.

Jordan just held him, letting him bury his head in the curve of her neck, holding on to her like there was no tomorrow…he was shaking and was fighting tears. She rubbed soft, comforting circles on his back… "It's okay…you're okay, Woody. It's all a bad dream…."

"I know…" he said, not relinquishing his hold on her. "I know…it's just…"

"The shooting, isn't it?" she asked. She felt him nod. "Bad dreams are normal about stuff like this…" She felt him nod again. "Do you have them often?"

Woody struggled to pull himself together. To his superiors at the police department, and indeed, many of his friends, Woody had seemingly put the sniper shooting behind him with ease…he didn't mention it or his injuries….he was, as one of his subordinates said, a "man of steel."

The steel had bent tonight. The one person in the world that he had never wanted to show any weakness to was now holding him in her arms like he was a baby. Reluctantly he tried to loosen his hold on her and pull away. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just…"

"That when you're stressed the dreams come back?"

He nodded. She understood …at least he thought she did…"How did you know?"

"Remember that case I told you I was on right before you came to Boston…the one with Digger?"

"Yeah…"

"When I'm really stressed, have a really bad day…or don't feel good, I dream about him….and the coffin…I feel like I'm suffocating all over again…"

Woody stared at her for a moment in complete horror. He had no idea…she had never said a word. He wondered if some of her sleepless nights had anything to do with those nightmares. Instantly he felt ashamed he had never inquired further….that he had never done anything about them for her. "Oh, Jo….I'm sorry.."

She shrugged. "Wish I could tell you your dreams will go away, but I'd be lying to you…I can tell you they eventually don't come as frequently…"

"Good…at least that's something to look forward to…"

She smiled at him…she hadn't let him go completely, her arms still loosely looped around him. "Do you want me to stay with you until you go back to sleep?"

He bit his lip…he still was bashful about admitting any weakness to this woman…he had always prided himself in being strong for her. Instead tonight he had discovered that Jordan had been amazingly strong for herself….and could be just as strong for him. "Do you mind?" he whispered in the dark

"Not in the least." She stood and pulled back the covers, tucking him in and then laying down beside him, taking him back in her arms. Gently running her fingers through his hair, she said softly, "Go to sleep…at least if either of us have bad dreams again tonight, we have each other…"

Not a bad thing… he remembered thinking before exhaustion did overcome him. Not a bad thing at all.

When he awoke the next morning, she wasn't there. He stretched out his arm to pull her to him again, and she wasn't there. Woody might have thought he dreamed the whole thing if the scent of her perfume and shampoo didn't cling to his pillow. He got up, pulled on his jeans and a shirt, and went downstairs, hoping to find her and apologize for his bad behavior yesterday and thank her for her loving touch last night.

She had made the coffee, but wasn't anywhere to be found. Then he heard the downstairs shower running….the door was cracked. "Jordan?' he called.

"In here….I'll be out in a minute…" she answered back.

He knew he shouldn't…but he did it anyway. Walking over to the door, he peeked in the bathroom…the shower curtain was one of those clear plastic ones…damn, she was beautiful…taking a deep breath and one more quick glance he peeled himself away from the door frame and headed upstairs to take his own shower….and he'd bet good money his shower would be decidedly colder than hers.