Chapter Eleven

Worry

Garret kept her in the morgue offices her first week back at work, with everyone following her around, treating her as if she were made of porcelain. In one way Jordan was touched with their care and concern, but in another way it hindered her from her goal of getting her life back to the way it was before her kidnapping – back to normalcy.

"You know, you've got to let me get out of here sometime," she told Garret after she'd been back at work for nearly two weeks. Jordan had finally had too much of being holed up in her office, wading through paperwork and went to accost the chief ME in his office.

"I know…and I plan on it….I just need to make sure you're going to be okay," he replied, not looking up at her from the file he was reading.

"Garret, I'll be fine. But part of me coming back into the morgue was not only to work, but to get my life back on track. And I can't do that just sitting behind a desk. I didn't do it before…and I don't want to do it now just because you think that I might react badly to a situation and not be able to handle it. That's never happened in the past and it's not going to happen now."

"How do you know? How do you know that if you're back out there in the field that something would trigger a reaction to your kidnapping?" Garret shut the file he was reading and laid it on his desk, crossed his arms, and looked her square in the eyes.

"Howard wouldn't have released me for work duty if he felt that might happen."

"And I know in the past you've been able to pull one over on him and me."

Jordan chewed the inside of her lip in an effort to control both her tears and her anger. No one knew how badly she wanted to put this whole incident behind her…although she knew as long as John was out there somewhere, she would always be looking over her shoulder. And she was well aware in the past, she had deliberately fooled Howard and Garret…told them both she was fine when inside she was falling apart…crumpling over either the weight of her mother's murder or Woody's rejection.

But now was not one of those times. She wanted her life back, her health back, and to once again be able to claim her heart as her own. Taking a deep breath, she replied, "But now is not one of those times, Garret. Honestly."

"You're still in counseling with Howard, right?"

"Once a week…more often if I feel I need it."

Garret looked down at the top of his desk for a minute. He had a good idea that Jordan was not going to like what he was about to tell her, but it was for her own good. If she truly thought she was ready to go back out on homicide calls, and if Howard also felt the same, the only way Garret was going to let Jordan back out on the field was under one condition – she go with Woody.

During the time that Jordan had been hospitalized, Garret and Woody had several opportunities to talk. It was only then that Garret understood why Woody rejected Jordan that day while he was hospitalized for the sniper shootings. Woody had explained that during that time he had wondered if he was going to be able to walk again…he didn't want to saddle Jordan with a crippled boyfriend that she stayed with just because she pitied them. Afterwards, he had questioned her timing, as well as the truthfulness behind her confession.

But in the end, it hadn't mattered. Woody still loved her…but the realization had come nearly too late. Jordan moved on with her life and he found himself following suit…only to sabotage any relationship he started with another woman simply because it wasn't Jordan.

And he never thought that he'd ever get Jordan back…that he had hurt her too badly…that he had broken her heart into too many pieces for her to ever trust him again. He had told himself it was for the best…it was better for them each to go their separate ways.

Until the kidnapping…until he was faced with a life without her at all. Then Woody had moved heaven and earth to find her.

And now that Woody had her safely back home, he told Garret that when Jordan was back at the morgue and ready to go out on field calls, there was only one detective he wanted her to work with: him. He knew her background and would take care of her better than anyone.

Garret knew this…as sure as the air he was breathing, Garret knew that Woody would keep Jordan's best interests at heart…over any case, any DA, any perp. Of course, convincing Jordan of this was going to be impossible. So that made what he had to say next unbelievably difficult.

"Okay, Jordan," Garret said with a sigh, looking her straight in the eyes, "I'll release you to go back on field calls on one condition."

"What…. is it?" Jordan slowly asked, the look in Garret's eyes giving her fair warning that she probably wasn't going to like whatever it was he was going to tell her.

"You only go with Woody."

"Garret, no…." Jordan argued as she followed him out of his office and down the hall. He had ended their discussion abruptly by telling her he was needed in trace and had taken off towards the lab.

"That's the only way, Jordan."

"But…."

"No but's. Or if's or and's. You're only going out on calls with Woody."

"Garret!"

"Look," Garret paused impatiently at the door of trace. "I understand your hesitancy about answering his calls given the fact that you've avoided him. But it's the only way I'll let you out, Jordan. Woody knows your background and will make sure you're okay…and I won't have to worry."

"I'm not going to break down….."

"Can you guarantee me that?"

"But Howard said…"

"And if Howard ran my morgue, he'd say the same thing. That's it, Jordan. The only way…at least for the next couple of months..." With that, Garret disappeared behind the doors of trace, leaving Jordan to once again deal with the aftermath of her kidnapping and the cult.

Woody watched her get out of her SUV and head to the crime scene. He had called in his latest homicide to Garret, and holding true to his word, he requested Jordan. She's still too thin, he thought to himself. But otherwise, she looks pretty good…

Pretty damn good. Her hair was loose and curling around her face, although right now she was pulling it back in a sloppy ponytail. Dark circles still hugged her eyes, but she still looked a hundred times better than she did when he had found her in that cellar closet.

"Hey," he said, softly to her, approaching her from behind and gently settling his hand on the small of her back. "How's it going, Jordan?"

"Fine…what do we have, Woody?" She pulled away at his touch. A reaction that didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Male, probably in his early forties. Security guard found him in the restroom this morning when he was making his rounds…."

"Any ID?"

"A Michael Langstrom…according to his secretary, he has a history of heart problems…"

"And you need me to confirm it."

"The building's owner would appreciate that…."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Well, rigor's set and I'd put the TOD at about ten hours ago…Let me transport him back to the morgue and I'll do the trace and autopsy." Her flat, matter-of-fact voice alarmed him.

"Are you okay with this, Jordan?" he softly asked, gently tugging at her arm to turn her around to face him.

"Me? Yeah, sure, Woody. Why wouldn't I be?"

Well, because you were held captive by a cult for four months… "I was just wondering…"

"Wondering if I had gone completely off the deep end?"

"No…I mean you wouldn't be back at work if there was any question about…"

"I'm fine, Woody…honestly. You don't need to worry about me."

Suddenly the tug on her arm changed as he gently took her face between both of his hands, not caring who was watching, or what would be said later by the other officers on the scene. "But I do, Jordan," he whispered. "I do worry about you…"