Chapter Three

Reasons Why

For three days Woody fumed about Jordan's request and Garret's giving into her wishes. Why did she ask to be removed from the Baby Doe case? Somehow he didn't think it was what Garret had said – that it was because Jordan was a woman and some women ME's have difficulties with cases involving small children. They had worked cases with young kids before…and he had seen her reaction. She had fought tooth and nail to bring those kids justice…find their killer…and in some cases, the kids themselves. Her behavior had been the same as his – outrage, concern, an overwhelming need to right the wrong. Woody knew his response had been the accumulation of a lifetime neglect from his father and then becoming an orphan. He had always assumed all of Jordan's response had been the result of being left motherless at ten.

So her present actions didn't add up to the Jordan he knew. It was off base…something was wrong…very wrong. The problem was Woody couldn't put his finger on what it was.

He thought it might be the fact of what might have been…what might have been between them. That if things had worked out between them…if he would have listened to her in the hospital…if he hadn't been such a horse's ass…their relationship would be very different by now. They would be together…perhaps married…maybe even expecting. Jordan could be carrying his child.

Instead things were so cold between them they both froze whenever they saw each other. Through his counseling sessions he had learned to be civil with her…disperse the anger that didn't belong to her…but just when he thought they were connecting again, one of them would get cold feet and back down. He reckoned it was because they both were frightened…that trying to pursue anything between them might be setting another disaster in motion again.

Maybe the baby was too sharp of a reminder. He knew it bothered him…not just because this may be a meaningless homicide enacted on a truly innocent victim…but because it also struck a chord with him. What might have been between them. What could have been the result.

Instead they were nearly strangers.

Odd that after four years of knowing her nearly every waking move and being able to read her mind, he was totally lost with her now. He had no idea why she was reacting his way.

But he needed to know. He was telling himself it was because he was a detective and she was an ME…that as along as they faced the possibility of working together, he needed to know what made her tick—what could set her off. But his heart was telling him something different – he needed to know because he still cared.

After the fourth day of still fumbling around with her reasons and his thoughts, Woody decided to make a trip to the morgue to see her…under the guise of an old case…only to find her office dark and locked, and to find her signed out on the time board. "Where's Jordan?" he asked Nigel, after going into trace to try to find her.

"Jordan? She's not here…"

Swallowing his impatience, Woody tried again. "Where is she? I need to ask her some questions about a … this cold case…there's been some new evidence that's been turned in."

Nigel looked up from his computer screen to give the detective a baleful look. If he was a betting man, he'd wager a cold case was the least of Woody's concerns. "Jordan's gone on vacation for a week."

"Vacation?" Well, that explained why he hadn't seen her…but that just made Woody's curiosity double. Jordan never took vacation.

"Yes, mate. She took off to Denver for a few days."

"Denver?" Woody's voice rose with his curiosity level. "Why Denver? Does she have family out there?"

"Not that I know of."

"Is it work related?"

"I don't think so."

Then it hit Woody. Jordan had worked in Denver for a while. He wasn't sure how long…a year? Eighteen months? It was the one place she had left on good terms with the medical examiner's office. Things had been strained between them…perhaps she had heard his dig to Garret that it might be better if she did transfer out to another office somewhere…that it would save him time and headaches in the long run.

What if she had listened to him one more time? Swallowing hard, he had to ask. "Is she interviewing for a job out there now?" he asked, nervousness tingeing the edges of his voice

Nigel's gaze turned from patience tolerance to one of disbelief. "No, mate," he replied somewhat gently…as if he had some idea of the degree of concern Woody was feeling and for once, the Brit was sympathetic. An event that didn't happen often any longer with the morgue staff since Woody had hurt Jordan so badly. "Jordan's not interviewing for any job anywhere."

"Then why…."

"I don't know. I don't know why she's out there. I just know that's where she is. And I'm not sure when she'll be back. You can ask Garret, but…"

"He probably won't tell me." Woody let out a resigned sigh.

"Your fault…if you hadn't of acted like such a bastard…."

"I know. Thanks anyway, Nigel."

"You're welcome," Nigel called after him, shaking his head at the detective.

Woody turned and went out of trace. He knew it was his fault. His actions had made the entire morgue staff…even Lily…shut him out. The empathetic answers he had gotten from Nigel were the most personal information he had gotten about Jordan in months.

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"So it was SIDS?" Woody asked Bug the following week. Bug had called him and told him that he had the final reports on Baby Doe's autopsy.

"Yes."

"You're completely sure?"

"I've run all the tests and then re-run them again because you told me that was what Jordan would have done. The little girl wasn't smothered…she wasn't shaken…she wasn't dropped…or anything else. It was SIDS."

Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. A catch-all category to try to explain the unexplainable – why a seemingly healthy baby died. "This isn't a homicide…" Woody said softly.

"No…the baby just…died," Bug said, shaking his head, too. In some ways, working in a morgue makes you a little hardened about death…but a baby's death? Bug didn't care how long he worked at the medical examiner's office, a dead baby – no matter how it died – was always hard to deal with. He was struggling as much as Woody was.

"So all we have is a parent or parents who abandoned their dead child…"

Bug nodded. "Who probably did so either out of fear – that they would be accused of something they didn't do – or that they couldn't afford a funeral, and if the child was abandoned, the state would cover the expense."

Woody sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. A homicide, in some ways, would have made more sense. And been easier and cleaner. Now they had to comb through hospital records to see how many women had given birth to female, Caucasian babies in the last three to four months.

And if they were lucky, the mother gave birth in Boston. Reality was, she could have given birth to the little girl anywhere…not even in a hospital.

The clerk at the Green Hotel couldn't really describe the woman. He was an elderly man and didn't see well….and he had only seen the woman on a couple occasions. All they had gotten out of the clerk is that the woman was about 5'4" and had dark hair. Not a lot to go on, especially when it could fit at least one-third of Boston's female population.

But even as focused as Woody was on that, the whole case went out the window the minute he saw Jordan walk by the doors of trace, her long brown hair tumbling down her back.

She was back.

And she owed him some answers.