K&B Collation and Body

3:47PM

Woody leaned on the side of his car in front of the only body shop in town that would even consider taking a look at Jordan's vehicle.

K&B advertised that they specialized in fire and water damage. One look at the single bay shop and Woody wondered if it was actually a cover for small time chop shop.

With a grunt of acceptance, Woody tipped his paper coffee cup to his lips only to find it empty. He didn't remember finishing it. His fried brain screamed for a refill even though he knew he needed food, rest and shower more. And not necessarily in that order, he thought to himself wrinkling his nose. He resigned himself to the fact he needed to go home as soon as he talked the mechanic.

Jordan's El Camino was sitting forlornly on a lift just inside the open bay door looking more hopeless now that the mud was drying and the dripping had stop to an occasional drizzle. The interior was spread around the drive, drip drying in the afternoon sun, already earmarked for the dumpster. That was if it wasn't tossed in the bed and dragged to the junkyard with the rest.

"Well..." the mechanic said emerging from his spot under the front wheels.

Woody stood up straight. " 'Well' as in I'll have it ready for you by Friday or 'well' as I'll give you fifty bucks for the parts."

" 'Well' is as I think you'll be better off with the fifty bucks, but I can fix it. It's going be more than it's worth Mr. Hoyt. You really should just call your insurance company and claim the loss..."

Somehow Woody doubted Jordan had full coverage on her car, so the idea of making a claim was out of the question.

"Ball park? What kind of money are we talking about here?"

The mechanic scratched his a rolled a figure off the tip of his tongue that was eerily close to what Woody had in his savings account...give or take grand...or two. For what this was going to cost Jordan could have a new car. Well, maybe not new, but new used...very used. Leaving him at square one...Her El Camino.

"Fine. Let's get started," Woody said with a note of finality. He'd worry about the finances later. Right now he had one thing and one thing only on his mind: To make everything alright again.

Woody filled out the paperwork and slapped his credit card on the table to get the work started. He wouldn't have it by Friday, but they promised him by the following week.

The mechanic tapped his pen against the frame of the garage door and watched Woody climb in his car and drive away.

He didn't miss the badge on the other man's belt, nor did he miss the fresh contusions on his hands and forearms. There was more to the story to this El Camino then just a swim in a lake. But he wasn't paid to worry about that. He turned back to the strange little car/truck on the lift. He was always a sucker for these things. He lost his virginity in the bed of a gun metal grey Camino the same year Steve Austin was kicking fembot butt.

"We can rebuild him. Better than he was before. Better... stronger... faster..."

He was still humming the theme song to The Six Million Dollar Man as he began to pull the engine apart.

Medical Examiner's Office, City of Boston

Tuesday 8:55AM

"...and just who am I suppose to call?" Jordan asked sharply in her phone as she stepped off the elevator. "That's right Chevy...El Camino...the kidnapping ...correct. Someone will get back to me...right. Thanks."

"..for nothing." she sighed disconnecting the call.

"Dr. C! We weren't expecting you today! You're sick! Welcome back! You should have called...oh my! " Emmy shrilled from her point at the receptionist's desk.

Jordan briefly wondered if the woman ever just said 'Good morning' or 'Hi'. No. She was always straddled that thin line between little-miss-sally-sunshine and sheer hysteria. It wouldn't surprise her at all if Emmy showed up to work one day waving an Uzi.

"I was only out for one day. I'm feeling much better," Jordan smiled thumbing through the message folder on the counter. She didn't feel that much better but she was never one to just sit at home and eat chicken soup. "Did I happen to get a call from the police department yesterday about my car by chance?"

Emmy screwed her face in thought as if she were re-living each and every phone call placed to her switchboard the day prior.

"The police department? ...no," she said tapping her chin. "I'll make sure to get the message to you as soon as possible if they should call."

"Thanks," Jordan said taking a tissue from the box stationed at the end of the counter. The ones in her pocket were all used and she didn't think she could make it down to her office and the half empty box waiting for her on her desk. There were some New Age philosophies that claim sickness can be conquered simply by mind over matter. Right now the matter was getting ready to drip down her lip.

Jordan wiped her nose and put herself on auto-pilot heading to her desk and what was surely a few tasks to keep her occupied until she could convince Garret she was healthy enough to do her job. As she walked she scanned the fistful of pink while-you-were-out memos in her hand for any word about her missing vehicle.

Nothing, notta, zilch. Her only form of personal transportation was MIA in a red tapped haze of city government bureaucracy. Between her Dimetapp habit and taxi cab tab money was going to be tight by the end of the week if she didn't get any answers.

"I thought I told you to take a few days off." Garret said, intercepting her before she could reach her door.

When he dropped her off at her apartment yesterday morning Garret made her promise to take the rest of the week off. After everything she had been through he wanted her to have time to recover. He freely admits he had become used to her almost anal diligence to her job since he came back, but he could spare her if it meant keeping the rest of his staff from calling in sick with her head cold.

Garret's question snapped her out of her momentary stupor. She just smiled and ignored him with a bravado he had to respect, even if it drove him nuts.

"Good morning to you too." Her smirk lost all of it punch when she had to turn and blow her nose.

"What part of paid sick leave didn't you understand?"

"I don't do sick very well. Day time TV is for the birds and you can only stare at the walls for just so long." Even as she was talking she was checking her desk phone for any messages from the department about her car.

"Here's a novel idea. Read a book; get some sleep; invest in a vaporizer."

Jordan's only answer was a handful of coughs that she tried valiantly to hold.

"Go home Jordan."

"Easier said then done. I can't find my car."

"I told you yesterday Strauss ditched in the reservoir. I'm sure they towed it to the crime lab or impound. I hate to say this Jordan but I doubt it's even drivable. It had to be dragged out of twenty feet of muck and water. Of what I saw it was pretty well totaled."

"I'd still like to see it...and clean out the glove compartment."

Jordan hated to admit it but there was something almost physical about her property being destroyed. Even after everything Strauss had done to her this lingering reminder left her feeling uneasy. She wouldn't be able to put it all behind her until she could take care of this last detail.

"I'm sure the department will call you after their finished with it. As stands they are going to need as much as they can get on this case. Hoyt really jeopardized the hope of conviction with his actions."

"Tell me about it," Jordan snorted. "He stopped by a couple of hours after you dropped me off to try and convince me what he did was right. I hope whatever crap he's going through ends soon. I'd hate...I'd hate to see him lose his career because he's turning into some kind of vigilante."

Garret started to say something else but stopped himself. "Is he getting any help?"

"I don't know. I haven't really talked to him in months."

Her voice was calm, almost without emotion. Garret didn't press. It would mean opening a can of worms he was in any hurry to do. He also didn't press her any further about going home.

"Alright. I'm sure someone from the department will contact you soon. Until then I'll pick you up and take you home. You just call me when you are ready to leave."

"Thanks Garret," she replied with a shaky smile.

"Jus...Just don't breathe on anybody."

"Yes sir," she grinned.

Garret looked her over one more time alike he was letting her slide on some kind of unspoken inspection. Jordan shut her door. She tried to concentrate on the paperwork in front of her but all she could think about was the shell-shocked face that knocked on her door the morning before.

He was taking care of what the bullet didn't have the chance too. He's killing himself from the inside out and there wasn't a damn thing she or anybody else could do about it. She knew because she had been there herself.

The only person that can stop Woody's self destruction was Woody himself.