Big thanks for the reviews. It's nice to know somebody is reading this stuff. Sorry for the long delay in update. Life can get crazy. I hope to wrap this up in one more chapter keeping it short and sweet...and hopefully soon.

Nineteenth Precinct, Boston Police Department

Monday 6:03 PM

Woody leaned back in his chair and stretched his back. Sitting for long lengths of time still made it stiff. He should be thankful he could feel it at all. Most days he felt that way...Today wasn't one of them.

For the umteenth time in as many weeks, He was up to his ears in administrative busy work. The department lackey until further notice. Maybe they should just go ahead and change his job title. Maybe they would right after they tattooed "On Restriction" permanently across his forehead.

His lieutenant also not-so-gently reminded him that his advancement points were evaporating right before his eyes. He'd still be beat detective by the time he was forty at this rate.

At least he still had a job. Strauss confessed.

Being stuck in the penalty box meant over-time pay was not available. Not wanting to go home, but unable to stay there he remembered it was five o'clock somewhere But since he didn't have any money to buy a drink it was a mute point.

There was nothing left to do but try K& D again.

Woody called periodically during the day. They should have some word, anything, about the due date for Jordan's El Camino.

He already had to put out more than a few fires Jordan had set. He smiled to himself thinking how tenacious she can be. Could he blame her?

He should have come clean with Dr. Macy last week when he inquired if Woody had any information.

It was true Jordan didn't have full coverage on the car, so it was necessary to make a claim to her insurance company other than to have her policy cancelled. Woody convinced Garret to tell her to hang tight...he'd "look" for the Camino himself.

Of course that was a big fat lie, one in a line of many, but how could he explain "stealing" her car out of lock up, ordering repairs he had no right too, and covering for his crimes by justifying them too himself by saying that his intentions were in the right place.

Then why wasn't he feeling good about this? A simple random act of kindness normally left him felling better about himself. Granted, rescuing Jordan's car wasn't actually random and hardly simple but he should a least feel something, anything.

Maybe it was true. Maybe his conscious was gone. Maybe the whispers were true. Something dead inside him and there was nothing he could do to back it back.

Medical Examiner's Office, City of Boston

Tuesday 8:05PM

To Jordan, shopping for a used car was like ordering the chef's special in a restaurant. There was always that fear of things inside that even forensics couldn't put a name to and that you'd be revisiting the whole mess in the ladies room an hour later.

Hitting the last week's worth of newspapers, Jordan had narrowed down her possibilities to a '87 Ford Tempo with a scant 200K on the odometer and a '77 Cadillac Deville that advertised the vehicle's body rust was covered by matching paint.

She wanted her El Camino back...but as far as she could tell it has been confiscated by aliens from another planet. The Boston PD couldn't even verify it was ever towed out of the reservoir.

She was kicking around the idea of taking up roller-blading into work when Garret knocked on her doorframe.

"Why don't we stop off at Mike's Pub tonight before I drop you off? You look like you could use a break."

"It sounds good," Jordan said grabbing her jacket. "I've been living on take out all week. My refrigerator is empty."

"You should have said something Jordan. I don't mind taking you to the store."

Jordan waved off his concern with a flip of her wrist. "I need to start thinking about getting myself mobile again."

"In all likelihood you're probably right. If they haven't found it yet...they're not going to."

Jordan snorted. "Water and all, it's probably been striped down and its parts half way to Mexico by now."

"Maybe," he said grabbing her jacket off the back of the sofa and handing it to her. "I did talk to Woody about it yesterday and he said he'd make some calls. Somebody has to know something."

"It's not really that big of a deal. I just...I just really want to put this whole thing behind me."

"Why do I have a feeling this really isn't about your car."

Jordan inwardly flinched at Garret's implication. If she kept on telling herself that all she was concerned with was getting mobile again she wouldn't have to put a name on the feelings of helpless terror that were stirred up from of being trapped underground. Garret didn't need to know. Nobody did. She survived. That's all that is all that counted.

"Of course it's only my car." she smiled with false bravado.

Later, when she was alone, she could relive that helpless feeling of being buried alive...again. Her nightmares were inevitable. The frequency was only determined by how much sleep she allowed herself.

K&B Collation and Body

Wednesday 12:06PM

Woody walked in to K&B half expecting to see Jordan's El Camino still looking like some perverse version of road kill. He was stunned to see the opposite.

"Now," the mechanic yelled over the sound of a reciprocating saw ripping through crinkled metal of the shop's next project. "The paint'll need to set a few weeks before you try and wash it. Especially around the filler we used around dents and rust. The engine'll need to watched for leaks. I prefer to keep this baby for a day or two and test it more but I can understand why you want her back so quick. They don't make 'em like this any more."

"No, they don't," Woody smiled climbing inside. The reconditioned bench seat didn't need a seat cover to mask the duct tape holding the springs inside. The radio still didn't pick up any stations but the rocker arms in the engine didn't knock like they did before.

"Oh...yeah...there's only about a gallon of gas in the tank. You're going to need to fill it up."

Woody blinked.With the amount of money he dropped in this place you'd think he'd get a tank of gas. He nodded that he understood.

"Well, I guess that's it." the mechanic handed Woody the receipt and Woody drove the rescued El Camino out of the garage. He had to admit it was a sweet little car/truck...whatever the hell it was. He hoped it had a small tank. He only had about ten bucks to his name before payday.

Woody headed for the morgue hoping that Jordan was else where. He didn't want fanfair. What he wanted he couldn't have. He'd settle for washing his hands of this whole mess and get on with his life.

Hopefully, with a clearer conscience.

Medical Examiner's Office, City of Boston

12:49PM

Parking Jordan's car in her parking spot anonymously was not a problem. Dropping her keys off on her desk proved to be more difficult. Telling himself that if anybody asked he was just dropping off some paperwork, Woody let himself into Jordan's empty office.

"Detective Hoyt! Detective Hoyt!"

Woody scrambled to keep his heart from exploding out of his chest at Emmy's scream from the hallway. He quickly dropped the keys on Jordan's desk.

"If you are looking for Dr C. she's in Autopsy One!"

So much anonymity. "Thank you Emmy. I was just dropping something off for her."

"I'll be happy to make sure she gets it," Emmy panted as she reached him.

"It's not important." he hemmed. One would think lying would get easier over time.

"Do you want me to give her a message?"

Woody shook his head. "No, thank you."

If Emmy found his actions odd, she didn't show it. Like a bee on a mission, she simply buzzed away and Woody was able to leave without drawing anymore unwanted attention.

Later, an exhausted Jordan looked for a few moments of peace and quiet in her office. She was finally able to crave out a few hours of sleep the night before. She had decided with or without her car she was going to have to move on. Digger had taken so much of her life already she wasn't going to let him win again after so many years.

Still, she was tired and that fatigue brought its own wave of paranoia. Even though she was obviously alone in her office, she felt like something was wrong. Something was out of place.

Someone had been there. The sensation was almost overwhelming. Before she shut the door she gave the room a cursory look. It didn't take long for her eyes to zone in on the keys haphazardly lying by her phone.

"What the..."

Jordan palmed the keys. The metal was cold. Whoever put them there was long gone. Instead of the hair going up on the back of her neck she felt oddly curious...just like a kid on Easter morning that had been left a clue on where the Easter Bunny hid her basket.

She had her keys...Now where was it?

"NIGEL? WHERE'S MY EL CAMINO!"