Sorry about the delay – I wanted to add some stuff to this chapter before I posted it…

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Chapter 5: Garret

Garret was bone tired. He'd gone over to police headquarters not only to be briefed on the two cases that were coming to trial in the next few days, but also to brief the other detectives on the cases that Woody would be handing over while he was undercover. It had taken hours. It turns out that Woody had been juggling more than a dozen cases, and the other detectives weren't nearly as intuitive as Woody. Working so closely with the morgue for so many years meant that Woody had both picked up morgue lingo and could easily interpret the pathology and evidence reports… as opposed to these detectives, who seemed to need their hands held the entire way.

To make the day more exciting, on his way out of headquarters, he had been pulled aside by Renee Walcott, who was on her way in. She dragged him into one of the private conference room she had access to and asked him to sit. She didn't beat around the bush.

"I know Hoyt told you that he was going undercover. What I'm curious about is why."

Garret shrugged. "You work with him more than I do. What makes you think I'd know?"

Renee, who hadn't sat down, leaned against the table. "What's going on, Garret?"

Inside, Garret sighed. Why did he always feel the need to protect his people? Why couldn't he, one of these days, be one of those mean bastards who cared only about himself? Oh well. "Like I already said, what makes you think there's anything going on?"

"I didn't get to be a DA for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts by being unobservant, Garret. We've been asking Hoyt to go undercover for three weeks. Suddenly he shows up the other morning with a nasty gash on his head and total willingness to go on an undercover assignment that will take him away from everything he knows for at least a month. I'll say it one more time. What's going on?"

Weariness washed over him. "This is all off the record?" He knew that she was a woman of her word. If she said it was off the record, she'd keep her promise.

"If I say no?" she asked.

"What was your question again?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. It's off the record."

"Woody and Jordan had fight a couple days ago."

"Ah. But what else is new… they fight all the time, on the scene, in the courtroom."

"This one was a little different."

"About her drinking?" She saw Garret's eyebrows hit his non-existent hairline. "Oh, come on. I told you I'm observant. Plus I've got an ex who was an alcoholic. I've noticed her behavior. Someone's got to talk to her, and soon, or she could get out of control."

He sat back in his chair. "I think Hoyt's been trying to for the last few weeks. The rest of us kind of slacked off. I guess we all thought he could handle her."

"No one person can handle Jordan Cavanaugh, Garret, you especially should know that."

"Yeah, I know. Things kind of hit the fan the other night. She got drunk and threw her glass at him – hence the nine new stitches in his face, which I put in early yesterday morning. He had come to the morgue to ask if I could help her. Nigel and I talked with him for a while, and he thinks all he's been doing is enabling her. So he's decided to take a step back. That's why he's suddenly so willing to go undercover."

"And what does Jordan think about this?"

"She doesn't know. And I'm not planning on telling her, and I'd prefer it if you didn't either. Best I can tell, she doesn't remember anything about that night or yesterday, which I think she spent sleeping it all off. If we do it right, I'm hoping this'll be what it takes to shake her out of her habit."

Renee didn't say anything for a while. Finally, "Good luck then. I know I said I'd keep this off the record – and I will," she said, before Garret could interrupt. "But if Jordan's problem gets worse, and starts affecting her work, I'm going to have to have her suspended. I can't afford for her problems to affect our cases."

He gave a her a determined look. "If it gets to that point, I'll suspend her myself." He stood. "Can I go now? I've been gone more than half the day, and we're already short staffed."

She stepped away from the door and he left her with a brief nod. "I'll see you around."

He had gotten about ten feet before he abruptly turned back around. "Renee," he called out and she turned around. "One more thing."

It hadn't taken him long to get from his visit to headquarters and his talk with Walcott back to the morgue. But between briefing the detectives and his discussion in with DA Walcott, it was needless to say that Garret was exhausted.

Which meant that he wasn't in the mood nor did he have the energy to face Jordan, who came barreling up to him almost has soon as he exited the elevator.

"Garret, I need to talk you. I took samples from my kitchen, and –"

"Jordan," Garret interrupted with a sigh. "Could I at least get into my office before you start hounding me?"

Jordan hands, which had been gesturing in his general direction, dropped. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."

She let him get to his office. She even waited until he had taken off his coat and sat down. Then, apparently unable to restrain herself a moment longer, bombarded him again. "Garret, what the hell happened yesterday? When I called you this morning, the last thing I could remember was getting ready to get off work. Everything was fine, and my car had all four tires in place, and it was Wednesday. This morning I wake up and find blood and broken glass in my kitchen, two of my tires have been popped, and I'm missing a whole day! To make matters worse, everyone around here thinks there's nothing out of the ordinary, that I just had the flu! Garret, I haven't been sick enough to stay home for more than two years. Something's going on, and you know about it. Damn it! Just tell me what the hell happened!"

Garret let out a breath and rubbed his eyes with one hand. "Jordan-"

"So help me, Garret, if you kick me out, I'll be right back in here ten seconds later." She came closer, leaning against his desk. "Garret, I need my friend right now, not my boss. Please, just tell me what happened. I'm starting to get freaked out here."

"Good. That's probably what you need. Close the door, Jordan, then have a seat."

Jordan remained still for a bit longer, from both his bluntness and because she had expected more resistance, but then hastily complied.

Garret leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the corner of the desk. He had watched her over the past few months, and in all honesty, he was tired of waiting for her to figure it out for herself. "First of all, your tires were popped at a crime scene on Wednesday."

"But I was in trace all day on Wednesday."

Garret held up a hand. "I know. But about ten minutes before your shift ended, there was a call for a body in an ally downtown. Bug had already gone out on a call to the railroad tracks, and the police wanted to get this body back to the morgue as soon as possible, so I volunteered you. Apparently, you drove in from the back, where a carton of nails landed. Don't ask me why they were there, I don't know. Anyway, your tires got popped, and your spare hadn't been repaired since your last flat, so your car was towed."

Jordan raised an eyebrow. "That explains my car. But what about my apartment?"

His fingers tapped out a staccato rhythm against the top of his desk. "Let me take a wild guess here, Jordan. You sampled the blood that was in your kitchen. You dusted for prints. You many have even run a tox screen on yourself to see if there were traces of any drugs while I was gone.

Jordan's momentary silence told him that she had. "Actually, I did to all those things. The tox screen came back negative. I even found a print in the blood smear on the refrigerator. Both it and the blood belonged to-"

"Woody," they both said at the same time.

Jordan briefly closed her eyes. "Garret, please. Tell me what happened."

Her demeanor almost unnerved him. She was preternaturally quiet, waiting for him to speak. "Jordan, you remember Wednesday morning, when Woody came by your office?"

She frowned. "Yeah…vaguely. He… he said I drink too much." Her voice became soft.

"And he's right. That night, after you got home, you must have had a hell of a lot to drink. When I brought you home on Thursday after you tried to come into work – completely drunk, I might add – I found enough empty bottles to get a half dozen people good and buzzed. And that was just the start of it." Garret then proceeded to tell her what Woody had told them about the other night. He recounted how she had shouted at Woody, insulted him, and finally been angry enough to throw a glass at him. Fortunately, he told her, her aim wasn't good enough to hit her target. He told her how Woody had come to him seeking help, not for the deep laceration on his face, but help for her, because there was nothing he could do.

Jordan got up and started pacing the room. "Jesus, no wonder Woody's not answering my calls."

Garret felt like squirming. He knew he would catch hell from Jordan later for not volunteering the truth about Woody's location, but he had made a promise. And if Woody had been right about him being an enabler, it would be best if they were separated for a few weeks. "That might have something to do with it. He's also gone out of town for a while. That's why it took me so long at the station. I had to brief the others on his cases."

Jordan stopped pacing. "Out of town? Where?"

He shrugged, and let the recently agreed upon cover story come easily. "Something about a family emergency. His aunt or something passed away in Wisconsin. He's gone back to help settle her affairs."

"I thought he didn't have any family left besides Cal."

Garret hefted himself out of the chair and started to move towards the door. "I think that's what we all thought. But how much do we really know about him? Besides the fact that he's from Wisconsin and about as chipper and annoying as a squirrel with a nut."

One corner of Jordan's mouth quirked in a semblance of a small smile.

Garret put a hand on one shoulder and led her out the door and back into the normalcy of the hallway. "Come on Jordan. Now that you know what happened, maybe things will start to come back. And hopefully you'll learn from all this. Either way, there's nothing we can do now but give it time."