Chapter Four

Repentance

There was no knock. Her door simply swung open and suddenly her office was full of him. His masculinity. His nervous energy. His gaze…that nearly pinned her to the wall. "Good….good morning," Jordan greeted him, a note of uncertainty in her voice. Whatever was going on, she had a vague idea it wasn't going to be anything good about it the morning or perhaps even the rest of the day.

"Where have you been?" Woody asked rhetorically.

"Denver."

"Why?" He came the rest of the way in the small room, shut the door, leaned against it, and crossed his arms. He wasn't going to let her out until she had answered all of his questions to his satisfaction.

"I took vacation."

"You ran out on a case." Woody's voice rang with cold distain.

Jordan felt the hackles of her anger rise. "I did not."

"Yes, you did."

"I asked Garret to put Bug on the case….the baby just got next to me…I needed to get away."

"So you bailed." His voice wasn't the least bit forgiving or understanding.

"I did not bail, Woody Hoyt. I had the case covered before I left. You just don't like it because I didn't tell you I was leaving…"

Woody pulled away from her door and walked over to stand in front of her. "You ran. Just like you always do when things get tough and you can't handle it."

"I did not run," Jordan replied, her voice rising with her hackles this time. "I took vacation. Something I haven't done in years and have needed for a while."

"Funny your needs just got too great right now. What about Baby Doe's needs? Don't they matter? Or does the world still revolve around Jordan and the hell with everyone else?" Woody's voice got louder, too.

And his response got him a stinging slap to his face. "How dare you? How dare you say that I put my needs before that child's needs? The fact was, that yes, the case was getting to me….and I felt I couldn't be objective. So I asked Garret to put Bug on the case before I had ever thought about taking vacation. So listen up, Farm Boy. You'd be working with Bug anyway. Despite what you think, I know the world does not revolve around me. However, my world does revolve around my cases. And I knew I didn't need to be on this one."

The tone of her voice now scared Woody. It had gone from loudly angry to cold, quiet, and furious. But that didn't deter Woody for giving her one more final stab. "Maybe you don't need to be on any case."

"Woody. Drop it," a voice said. Bug had heard their voices through the closed door and had gone to investigate the argument. He had come in on the tail-end of Jordan's slapping Woody and had listened until Woody's last comment and felt he had to intervene.

"This is none of your business, Bug."

"I'm making it my business. Jordan's my friend and colleague. And you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. You're done here, Woody. You've got your autopsy reports. Leave."

"But I'm not though…"

"Yes, you are," Bug replied with such a note of finality in his voice that Jordan even wondered at the man's sudden embracement of authority. "Now go."

Woody threw Jordan one more glance that plainly told her it wasn't over. "I just need to know you won't bail on me again when we have a tough case together."

"Woody. Leave. Now." Bug ordered one more time and held the door open for the detective to walk through. Woody turned to leave, grabbing the autopsy reports off the corner of Jordan's desk. With a quick look to Bug on the way out, he stormed down the hall to the elevators.

Inside the office, Jordan lifted a shaking hand to smooth back her hair. "I can't believe it….I slapped Woody, Bug."

"Well, it's not like he didn't ask for it…"

She laughed mirthlessly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence…." But her voice cracked and the chuckle disappeared on a sob.

"Are you going to be okay?" Bug asked, closing the door and walking over to Jordan to run a sympathetic hand down her arm.

"Yeah…I'll be fine. Just...give me a minute or two, okay?"

Bug nodded. "I will…Garret said you wanted to be kept in the loop on Baby Doe. When you're ready, I have the reports. I'll be in trace with Nigel."

"Okay…and thanks, Bug." Jordan flashed him a small smile

Bug shot her an understanding smile back. "No problem."

For three weeks, Garret had made sure they didn't catch a case together. Not one. So there was no excuse for Woody to hang out at the morgue in order to speak to her.

But that didn't stop him from wondering at her reaction to him. He knew he had goaded her into an argument. He had done that before to her. And she had done it to him. But she had never struck him. His hand involuntarily raised itself to his cheek where he swore he could still feel the heat from her hand. No matter how badly they fought, she had never gotten physical with him.

He must have touched a nerve somewhere…but where, he didn't know. In the past three weeks, what few opportunities he had to ask her any particulars about the Baby Doe case as the responding ME had only brought icy stares and no response. Bug had filled in any gaps.

That wasn't what Woody wanted. There was something about that case that had gotten next to Jordan in a way that no other case they had worked on together ever had. And he had to know why. He just had to. But not working any cases together made any type of communication with her nearly impossible.

At least until one Friday afternoon. Woody had been in the morgue discussing another case with Nigel before he left to go home. Finally satisfied with the criminalist's results, Woody had made for the elevators, only to see the doors beginning to slide shut. "Hold the door…" he called out.

And immediately wished he didn't. The doors slid back open and he found himself gazing back into her eyes. She moved all the way over to one side allowing him access into the car. Woody found himself looking back at her from the opposite wall…with about five feet of floor space between them. The air crackled.

"Going home?" he finally asked, hoping to break some of the tension.

"Yeah," was her monosyllabic response.

"Thank God it's Friday…" he countered.

Jordan only nodded, not looking at him.

"Rough week?" he asked, trying to get some kind of response out of her.

"Typical…."

At least it was more than one syllable. He took that as an opening. "I do need to talk to you about the Baby Doe case, Jordan. Just you're initial findings when you examined the baby at the hotel room….we're trying to find her parents."

"Bug has all that information." Her tone of voice was cold…devoid of emotion. And tired. Woody didn't think he had ever heard her sounding so tired in his life.

"I need you to look back over it and make sure there's nothing you left out…"

"I already have. Bug showed me the report yesterday. Everything is there, detective." She switched her pocketbook to the other shoulder and faced the elevator doors. Why did these old things have to be so slow? She was still four floors away from freedom.

"Woody, Jo. My name is Woody. You've called me that for four years. Now is no time to go all formal on me."

She didn't answer.

He figured he had nothing to loose. "Why'd you run from this case, Jordan? Why? Any other time, any case involving kids would have you hopping all over the place trying to find answers. Instead this one…you bail on me when I need you the most…Why?"

For a fleeting moment, Jordan thought about all the ways she could answer that question. She could be flippant and tell him she was long over due for a vacation. She could be stubborn and not answer at all. Or she could be bitchy and tell him it was none of his damn business – because it wasn't.

But she couldn't tell him the truth. Not now. Maybe not ever. She had handpicked the people she wanted to know and he didn't make the cut. Especially now with his attitude.

She couldn't tell him….because if she told him, she knew she would break down and cry…and he would feel sorry for her…and pity her. The last thing she wanted was his pity. She would want his arms to go around her and tell her that everything was going to be all right….that she would be okay.

And that he loved her as much as she loved him.

Finally the elevator dinged. They had reached the lobby. The doors began to slowly slide open. "Jordan?" she heard him say as she felt the stinging tears in her eyes. "Why?"

Damn him. He just wouldn't let it go, would he? "I'm sorry," she managed to mumble before practically running out of the elevator and the morgue doors, heading for her El Camino as fast as she could.

But not before Woody had caught sight of her tears and heard the crack in her voice. Then the knowledge of what he had done slowly sank in.

He had made Jordan Cavanaugh cry.

A few months ago that would have pleased him in a sordid kind of way. That he could reduce Jordan Marie Cavanaugh…the proverbial tower of strength….to tears. It would have made him happy that he had hurt her one more time…just like the wounded look in her eyes when she saw him with another woman felt like a victory for justice. His brand of justice, but justice nonetheless.

But somehow that victory was ringing hollow right now. Instead of feeling justified in his actions, he felt like a heel…that he had injured and bruised her emotionally in an area that was already in critical condition. There was hurt in her brown eyes that he didn't cause. He may have pushed it to the surface and then caused it to fester, but he wasn't the source of the underlying injury that had caused her to lose her professional veneer with this case.

Why? That question kept rising up. Why? Why did she turn the case over to Bug? He wasn't buying Garret's excuse—that women ME's often have trouble with cases involving an infant. It seemed to Woody that anyone in their right mind would have problems with a case involving a dead infant. That much was simple.

But why would this particular case make Jordan not only hand it over to another ME, but also head screaming for Denver? Why Denver? And why now?

And why did she break down in front of him in the elevator? The few times he had seen Jordan in tears had been terrifying for him. Jordan was one of the strongest people he knew. Seeing her vulnerable and crying had made him feel a confusing mix of fear and protectiveness all at the same time. She was one of those women who deserved not to have anymore tears in her life. She had already shed an ocean of them since her tenth birthday. However, in the past, Woody had always been able to pinpoint why she had cried. Her father. Her mother. Garret. Him.

This time he had no clue why she had broke down. He may not have caused the initial injury to her, but he sure as hell hurt it again. And he wasn't so sure he didn't mean to – just to get a rise out of her once more. Just to make sure he was still pulling her emotional strings.

Sighing and running a hand through his hair, Woody realized that somehow he had to make things right with her….maybe not everything, but at least some things.He didn't think their relationship would ever go back to what it was before…the warmth and affection…concern…all of those emotions that surrounded the dance they did around each other. And when Jordan had been ready to surrender to him…he had pushed her away. Pushed so hard and so fast that Jordan found comfort in another man's arms instead of Woody's. He still winced at the memories of JD kissing her…in front of him, no less.

So maybe they would never be lovers. That thought may be too much water underneath a bridge that they had burned too badly to repair or rebuild. But they should at least be friends.

Swallowing his pride, Woody walked into the florist down the street from the morgue. Slapping his credit card on the counter, he bought a dozen pink roses – her favorite—and began the long trek to repentance at her apartment.