A/N: I apologize to all of you for not updating sooner, but my bil screwed up my computer and I lost everything, including all the remaining chapters of this story that I had been working on. Anyway, my online service is touch-and-go at best, so I will try to update soon. Thanks for the reviews!

The usual disclaimers apply...

PART XIV - UNFORGIVABLE

Cal was watching the people, warily scanning each face as he waited for Jordan. Doctors and nurses and orderlies scurried back and forth, wheeling patients or ferrying charts or coffees to and fro. No sign so far of the stranger. Cal breathed a small sigh of relief. He had finally gotten a little comfortable in one of the chairs, an under-stuffed cheap plastic thing that made noise every time he moved. Clearly the waiting room at Boston General was in need of a makeover. He glanced up at the clock, its hand loudly but slowly ticking the seconds, the minutes and the hours. Time had never seemed to move so slowly for him before, but he was battling with the need to see Woody versus protect Jordan. She had tried to get him to go up with her, but he wasn't quite sure it was the best idea. So instead he carefully scanned each face, telling himself that he would reconcile things with his brother later. Woody always came around in the end, right?

He figured they might be in Boston for awhile, but they would probably have to check into another hotel room. It was the safest bet at the moment. No one knew - or at least no one was supposed to know - that Jordan was back in Boston. He had convinced her that they couldn't go traipsing around her apartment, and a quick drive-by revealed the all-too-familiar blaring yellow crime scene tape and a few uniformed officers near the street and the door of her building. She couldn't stay at the morgue either, and she didn't want to put anyone else in any danger. So she had finally agreed to another night in a room with Cal as her protector. He grinned to himself -- She was kinda' getting used to him.

He guessed that she had a lot to say to Woody…Aside from asking for his help in looking through Haley's cryptic file, Cal had also convinced her to try again as far as her feelings went. Knowing that Woody had been on drugs and had probably been scared as hell about the surgery and its possible outcome, Cal had guessed that his brother's emotions had been far from normal when Jordan revealed her feelings. After her confirmation of the rocky almost-relationship, he pointed out that Woody had had every reason to be skeptical. So he wore her down until she had agreed to test the waters, and had grabbed the file. "Okay, I'll try…You just don't quit, do you?" she'd asked, seeing so much of Woody in Cal. He had shaken his head. She had smiled bravely, unsure of herself.

"Hey, you'll make a great sister-in-law…" he said. Jordan had smiled, a bright and beautiful, full smile…And Cal had known that she truly wanted things to work out with Woody. So when he saw her figure emerging from the elevator doors, he was more than a little surprised. It had been a short visit…Too short. One glance at Jordan and he could see that she was angry and upset. She motioned for him to follow, silent, angry tears pouring down her face. He didn't say anything until they were out of the hospital, giving her time to think.

But before long, Cal couldn't stand it anymore. "Have a fight?" he tested, his eyebrow arched, teasing her. He immediately went to her side when he saw her start to shake, but she shrugged him off. "Geez, Jordan…I was only kidding." They trudged to the parking garage, but the rest of the trip was silent, Jordan waiting in the minivan while Cal gave their fake names to the clerk at another hotel and procured a key.

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"I know all little boys play cops and robbers from time to time, but what made you decide to go the distance?" a voice asked from the doorway. Woody looked down at his watch. It must be the physical therapist, he thought. The nurse had warned him she would be stopping by to assess his legs. He was not sure if he was ready for the inevitable news - that he wouldn't be on the force any time soon. He wasn't in the mood for this now, not after what he'd just learned about Jordan and Cal.

She walked into the room, her blonde hair pulled up and twisted neatly into a bun. "Hi there. I'm Marcia. Marcia Windham…Physical Therapist. So…you wanted to be a cop because…" she smiled at him, waiting for a response.

Her smile was too bright, Woody decided. "Oh, you know…father was a sheriff. I wanted to follow in his footsteps -- I just didn't think it'd be so literal." Woody was silent for a minute, thinking of the shooting, then decided to change the subject. "And you?" he asked politely.

"You don't want to hear my soap opera," she told him, with a confidential wink. She walked over, flipped the sheet over to one side and began rubbing his lower legs vigorously, first one and then another.

"Sure I do," he smiled at her somewhat warmly, trying to ignore the severe pain in his legs.

She looked up at him, seeing him wince with pain. "I guess you do need a distraction, Detective. We-ell… I was twelve, my parents were arguing in the front seat, my sister and I were in the back and Dad was turning his head to yell at us…." she closed her eyes, remembering the scene. "The car was hit head-on. Drunk driver, killed him instantly. My mom died the next night, and dad…well. He didn't walk again. I guess I kind of started this job out of guilt, you know…the arguing made Dad lose his focus on the road. But I finally realized that it had not been my fault, there had been nowhere else to go to swerve out of danger, and things ended up the way they did for a reason…I spent my time watching the physical therapists work with my dad and found my calling, so to speak. I love my job, the people I meet - well, usually," she looked at him and smiled. "But now it's for me, you know? Not because I am trying to assuage some self-imposed guilt and all…I love what I do. I help people see that there can be a life for them, regardless of their situation, because they're still alive." Woody looked doubtful, and Marcia was quick to notice. "You don't believe me? Things can't be that bad…You can still breathe. So…I'll be working with you every day, three times a day, until we figure out how much work there is to be done. It might go quickly - with injuries like this you can never tell until you really start to push the edge of the envelope."

"When you find out that I can't…" Woody frowned.

Marcia rubbed one spot, waiting for him to show signs of flinching, and saw him wince with pain. "See? It hurt. That's good…You can feel it. Just like I can feel mine. It's a start…"

"Look…It's hopeless, alright. I'm not going to ever get back to where I can walk, let alone run, six miles. You might as well just leave me alone." His thoughts were far from physical therapy. He couldn't stop thinking about Jordan and Cal…

"You know Detective, I'm not quite sure what's bothering you right now…But -- you could channel your anger, frustration and self-pity into your therapy. I think things would go a lot quicker if you actually believed that you could walk and would purpose to start practicing a little, but you know - it really is up to you how fast we go. Doctor Roberts and Doctor Turner have okayed the therapy because they believe you're gonna' be just fine. If you start out with a negative attitude…"

Woody looked at her in surprise. "You're not saying…"

"That you're a stubborn ass?" She teased him, smiling. "Yes, I am…But more than that -- I'm telling you that you can walk again, just like before. There's nothing wrong with your muscles that a little determination won't cure. Swallow your pride, Detective, and maybe you'll find that you'll be able to go back to the life you loved before the shooting." Woody was stunned at her directness. "Well, Detective, I guess I'll leave you with that to think about." She covered his now sore legs with the sheet and hastily exited the room. Woody thought about what she'd told him, and he wondered if he really could have his life back…That is, most of it.

Maybe he was being a little too childish. After all, Doctor Roberts was one of the best. And Doctor Turner had been pretty positive. If the course was now up to him, well…He wanted to walk - hell, he wanted to run again! And then he could leave this god-forsaken room…

It still smelled of her. He looked at the chair where Jordan had sat earlier. He fought back the urge to vomit and closed his eyes, hoping to erase the memory of her, but he could see the confusion on her face and wondered, not for the first time, if maybe he had misjudged the situation -- again.

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Bug was pacing in Trace, waiting for Doctor Macy. Through the scientific wonders of forensic palynology, he had found something that could unlock the mystery of the woman who had spent her last days as Bridget Carter. Pollen. Two tiny grains of pollen, to be exact -- from the Lupinus perennis - the lupine - dusted with minute traces of what had probably been salt water, and wild rice. Maine? It seemed highly likely that Bridget Carter had been to the Casco Bay area of Maine, a mere 125 or so miles north of Boston…Only a two and a half hour drive, with some leeway for heavy traffic. What was in Maine? And more importantly, Bug wondered, what had happened to Bridget Carter that had brought her body to Boston?

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Cal waited until he shut the door, making sure the room was secure, before he said anything else to Jordan about her meeting with Woody. She was pensive, pacing -- nervous energy one minute and still and silent the next. All the while, the tears just fell. She was not an overly emotional women, at least not like some of the drama queens Cal had known, so he waited until he finally couldn't stand the silence and the suspense and stood close to her. He opened his arms and she went into the embrace, dampening his shirt with her silent tears. "Wh--what happened?" he asked gently. At first, he had expected her to be explosive, angry…But in the short ride to the motel, the anger had been wholly replaced by something else…something akin to defeat.

"I…Woody doesn't…It's over, Cal. Really over. I - I can't believe he's…" she broke down then, all the pain and sorrow of the last week or two flooding out in her tears. She couldn't tell Cal what Woody had said, didn't want to drive the wedge further, even though she was sure that Woody wouldn't forgive Cal for his part with the Albanian mob. And me, she thought. Even though there was nothing, he'll never forgive Cal because of me…

"God, what happened in there? What the hell was he mad about? It isn't your fault…Come on, Jordan. It isn't…" Cal tried to comfort her, wondering if the small bit of information Jordan had finally shared with him from Haley's file had caused his brother to lose his good senses. It wasn't Jordan's fault that her father had been involved in things that made him look a little more than crooked. Cal knew too well about his brother's disdain for anyone who was less than an upstanding citizen…especially a cop. One look at Max's track record and maybe he had decided that…Jordan's sobs began to rack her small frame, interrupting his thoughts, and Cal got angry. Damn Woody's self-righteousness…If he really loved Jordan, he would look past all that, wouldn't he?

Cal rubbed her back, trying to soothe her. Woody was always trying to be the good, upstanding citizen… Didn't he realize that not everyone could be him? "It's my fault, Jordan…Woody's looked out for me his whole life, and I've been nothing but bad news…He just expects everyone to live up to his standards and he doesn't realize that everyone can't…He shouldn't blame you for your father's…" Cal's voice trailed off. He didn't know what else to say. Jordan just stood there, sobbing anew, and he almost hated Woody for what he had done to her. She was amazing, couldn't Woody see that?

After what seemed like eternity, Jordan finally stopped crying. "I told you we shouldn't have come to Boston," she said with an attempt at a smile. Cal's support was great on the one hand, but her mind was filled with Woody's accusations. There had been no truth in them at all. Cal had been nothing but helpful, protective -- like a brother. She had never thought of him as anything else. He was proving it now, she thought, feeling sorry for him because the relationship he thought he could build with his brother was not going to happen. Because of her. She was here with Cal now, in a hotel room, alone. Just like Woody had accused. Cal was only like a brother to her - her mind fought with Woody's impossible logic. But the things Woody had said made her stop and look up at Cal through her tears, seeing him as more than a brother-figure for the first time. He was handsome, winsome, with a vulnerability that he hid behind his penchant for trouble. She closed her eyes and leaned toward him, even as Cal leaned toward her. It has been far too long, she thought briefly.

After spending the last few days cooped up inside motel rooms with her, Cal could just close his eyes and her features were crystal clear. He had never thought about her as more than a sister, but if Woody wanted to be stupid…Jordan didn't need his judgmental attitude right now. She needed help. He took in the scent of her, his eyes closed to savor the moment, his thoughts running back to the several motels they'd been in, her sleeping near him in almost nothing. He couldn't understand it…Why didn't Woody want her? She was beautiful, fun, adventurous and…Their lips brushed against each other softly, then parted, making way for something more. But Jordan opened her eyes and pulled back rapidly.

"Oh my God!" he heard her blurt, half-whispered, before he jumped back. She sat looking at him, some indefinable emotion playing across her face.

"Jordan…" He should have known…He knew she loved Woody, she'd told him time and again, even in her actions, the smile she got when they talked about him. Cal grabbed his jacket and hurried toward the door. "I'm…I'm so very, very sorry!" he stammered before bolting out of the room, a bit disappointed that nothing could develop between them, but more afraid that he'd lost her as a friend.

Jordan sat on the bed, feeling a mixture of confusion and betrayal. Hot tears of shame coursed down her cheeks. She had lost Cal's friendship - she was sure of it. But more than that, she had betrayed Woody…The only man she had ever really and truly loved. And with his own brother. No matter what she'd said in anger at the hospital, she had never meant for this to happen. It was unforgivable.

-----

Nigel stopped by the hospital during his lunch break to discuss FBI Agent Drew Haley with Woody. He was hoping the detective could help him uncover some inconsistencies in Haley's personnel file…A file he'd gotten none to easily. Thankfully, Nigel thought, I have friends in high places…And low ones too. He smiled, licking his lips and thinking of one of the secretaries he was especially friendly with. She had agreed to pilfer the file in question, and he'd used the best scanning equipment the morgue afforded -- one thing he thanked Slocum for -- to make highly defined digital copies before sending them back right away. But when he walked into the room, Woody was not in the mood to discuss anything work-related.

"Hey, Woodrow…I have some information you might be interested in…" Nigel began.

"Not interested," Woody barely looked up at the Brit and refused to accept the documents Nigel held out to him.

"C'mon,mate…This will help us find Jordan. We really need to figure out what's going on here…" Nigel tried again.

"She's in Boston." Woody's voice was flat, his eyes vacant and empty.

"What!" Nigel was incredulous. "How do you know? Did she call?"

Woody turned to really look at Nigel for the first time. Someone else Jordan had wrapped around her little finger, waiting to do her bidding. He was sick to his stomach, his mind filled with visions of Cal running his hands through Jordan's gorgeous chestnut locks, kissing her, undressing her, brushing his hands up and down her silky skin…It was almost more than he could bear. "She was here…" he choked, but Nigel interrupted him.

"Here! Where is she now? That's great! That's…" but anything Nigel was going to say was silenced by the look of loathing the crossed Woody's face.

"I'm sure you'll find her…She's with my brother."

"C'mon, our little Jo isn't a fickle bird…It's you she wants, Woodrow. I'd bet my computers on it…" Nigel said with all seriousness.

Woody shook his head. "You're wrong. It's over."

"But…"

"Don't. Just go." Woody's face was hard. Nigel turned, only glancing back once at the detective.

"What about Jordan?" he asked from the doorway.

"She's dead to me," Woody said flatly. Nigel gasped. "Dead," he repeated firmly. "I don't want to hear anything from her or about her…Don't bother me about her anymore." The words were gut-wrenching. But now that Jordan had Cal, he would do what he should have done months - hell, years - ago…He would finally, finally move on.

-----

"Alright, people…What have we got?" Slocum called to the whispering group gathered in the conference room.

"Bridget Carter…She was found burned in Jordan's El Camino. I found some traces of pollen specific to wild rice and lupine, and when I cross-referenced them, both strains are indigenous to Maine. Well, actually, the lupines that were native to Maine are now extinct, and the lupine was reintroduced in..."

"Doctor!" Slocum interrupted.

"Right. Anyway, I'm sure that we should be looking in The Casco Bay area of Maine...There are..."

"Good job, Doctor…What else?" Slocum asked. "We need to get this thing solved. Doctor Cavanaugh has been missing close to a week now…" The group looked from one to another. He didn't need to remind them…Jordan's absence was definitely felt.

"The keys on her counter…They don't belong to Jordan," Lily offered. Bug cast a glance and a smile at Lily.

"I want those keys…We can…" Slocum looked down at his notepad, trying to outline a course of action.

Nigel looked down at his notes. Haley was still an enigma. But he probably should volunteer the information Woody had given. "Jordan's in Boston…" he started.

"What!" Garret gasped. "Is she okay? Have you seen her?"

"Where is she?" Lily demanded.

"I don't know…She stopped to see Woody -- Detective Hoyt -- at the hospital. The only thing I do know is that Woody believes she's with his brother, Calvin…"

"Cal?" Bug asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What? Is this guy trouble or something?" Slocum asked.

"I don't know…" Nigel's voice trailed off.

"We'd better get on this right away. Even if Woody saw Jordan alive and well earlier today, it doesn't mean she's safe," Garret said, bringing the focus of the conversation back to Jordan and the mystery of her whereabouts.

"What do you suggest, Doctor? If Doctor Cavanaugh was seen in Boston…"

"What about her apartment? She can't go back there. No, she's not safe. And she won't be until we find out what happened to Bridget Carter…" Garret paused, trying to assess the situation. "I think I'm going to take a little road trip…That is," he said, turning to Slocum, "…if it's alright with you."

"I hear Maine is nice this time of year…" Slocum responded dryly. "Doctor Vijay, you stick around for now. I might need a little help holding down the fort. Doctor Townsend…I think you should accompany Doctor Macy. If you find anything, I want to know about it right away!"

"No problem," Garret said, walking toward Jordan's office with Nigel in tow.

"Alright, then. Everyone else back to work," Slocum said, exiting the conference room.

"Cal? Woody's gonna' be pissed," Lily whispered to Bug, remembering their conversation about the detective's baby brother.

"I have a feeling this does not bode well…" Bug added, holding the door open for Lily.

"Yeah, you and me both…"

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