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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the CJ characters

Now, onto Chapter 7........

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I went back to my office and shut the door with a little more force than necessary. I remembered that I had left my coffee in the break room. I sighed, but didn't want to run into Lily, who would no doubt think I needed to 'talk' about things. She tried hard, bless her, but I was not the type who wanted to talk about her feelings. I just wanted to be left alone.

With another sigh I settled down at my desk and stared at the mound of paperwork awaiting me. Autopsies that needed to be signed off on, a whole stack of filing that I had to actually take to Emmy to file. Of all the things that my job entailed, paperwork was the worst. But on the plus side, it didn't require much concentration, which left me free to mull over the 'Burke Alum Killings'.

Over an hour later I was sitting at my desk, pen in hand, ready to sign a paper. I had been sitting that way for the better part of the hour and hadn't signed my name once, lost in thought as I was.

My phone rang shrilly, breaking the silence and making me jump. I fumbled through the strewed papers and found the phone. I flipped it open.

"Cavanaugh here," I said without looking to see who was calling.

"Jordan, how are you?" asked a rich, familiar male voice.

"Oh, hey Andrew. How's it going?" I said, my heart beating a little faster.

"Oh, you know. Same old same old," he replied. "I'm so sorry I didn't call you this weekend, but my sister was her from Rhode Island and I spent the weekend with her and her kids."

"No problem," I said, leaning back in my chair.

"I was wondering if I could coax you out into the rain to have lunch with me?" he asked. "I'm just a few blocks away at a clients' and should be leaving around noon."

My heart sank. "I wish I could, but I have an autopsy coming in any time and I'm sure it'll take me way past noon," I said.

"Well, damn," he said. "I guess that work is a good enough excuse, though. Well, how about dinner? There's a great little Italian place not too far from your apartment, it's called Luigi's."

"I love that place. My dad and I used to go there all the time," I said. "I think that would be fine..."

My voice trailed off as there was a tap on my door. I looked up to see Woody opening the door and walking in.

"That would be fine, but..." Andrew said when I didn't finish.

"No, uh, that would be fine. Dinner sounds great. I'll give you a call when I get off work," I said, looking down at my desk as if there was something fascinating there.

"Great! I'll talk to you then. Bye Jordan," he said.

"Yeah, bye," I said, and shut the phone and tossed it onto the desk.

Woody was giving me a definitely suspicious look. "Who was that?" he asked lightly.

"Oh, just a friend," I said nonchalantly.

"Does this friend have a name?" Woody asked.

"Does it matter?" I countered.

"No, Jordan. I guess it doesn't matter. I guess it never has mattered," Woody said sharply, scowling. "Anyway, I followed Nigel and Bug over here, they're ready for you."

I wanted to ask Woody what he meant by his comment, but my desire to start the autopsy won out and I stood up. "Okay, thanks."

Woody looked at me incredulously and shook his head. "Yeah, no problem," he said and turned and walked down the hall.

With an annoyed sigh I followed him down the hall. After I slipped a pair of scrubs over my clothes I put on a pair of rubber gloves and joined Bug, Nigel and Woody in the autopsy room.

They had her laid out on a table, but they were waiting for me. I looked down at her face and forced myself to remain expressionless.

I hadn't thought it was possible, but it seemed that with each murder our killer was getting more and more brutal.

Lisa Donovan Smith had been beaten so severely that it was almost impossible to tell what she had looked like. She had short curly black hair and pale skin. Her eyes were closed but I clearly remembered that they were deep blue. Of all of our friends Lisa had been the shyest. She had been the voice of reason among our group, the only one who hadn't drank, hadn't tried the many drugs we had all tried. She was our designated driver, a motherly sort that always watched out for us.

I hadn't even known she had gotten married. Probably I was out of state, and I had never bothered to keep in touch. I was filled with regret that I hadn't seen her, hadn't tried to keep contact.

I was startled out of my reverie when Nigel put his hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay, luv? You don't have to do this, you know."

I was horrified to realize that I had tears in my eyes. I blinked rapidly. "No, I'm fine," I said stubbornly. "Let's get started."

Nigel looked at me skeptically. Even Bug, who usually showed as much emotion as a fish was looking at me sympathetically. Woody was standing a few feet away, talking into his cell phone. "Are you certain?" Nigel persisted.

"Of course. C'mon, let's go," I said and brutally shoved my emotion down deep where it wouldn't bother me.

X

"I don't get it," I said as I yanked my rubber gloves off and tossed them into the trash.

"What don't you get?" Woody asked, the first time he had spoken to me since we had started the autopsy.

"How is he getting a knife from the victims' own kitchens? I mean, I think that it's obvious that the victims know, or at least are familiar with, the killer. There's no forced entry, there's no defensive wounds on any of the vics, which would point towards the fact that they were taken by surprise, they weren't threatened. But wouldn't you be a little bit nervous with someone with a kitchen knife in the living room?"

"Well, perhaps he was hiding it behind his back or something, took the vics totally by surprise," Bug suggested.

"Yeah...." I said. "The other thing that bugs me is, he beat the crap out of these women, and the wounds were inflicted while they were alive. Why are there no defensive wounds? I would think that they were drugged but the tox reports on the Carlson case came back negative."

"Well, when we catch the guy we'll ask him," Woody said.

I sighed. "Yeah...." I didn't say anything else. I wanted to discuss the case with my dad and decided I would meet him after dinner with Andrew.

"So how's her husband looking?" I asked. We had determined that she had been killed sometime between midnight Friday night and eight a.m. Saturday.

"Both the husband and daughter have airtight alibi's," Woody said.

"Daughter?" I repeated.

"Yeah....name's Eliza," Woody said. "She's sixteen."

"Where was she?" I asked.

"Well, hubby was out of town on a conference, we've cleared him. The daughter was spending the weekend with a friend; she wasn't due back home until after school today. Something about a big project. She's cleared, too," Woody said.

"I hardly think a sixteen year old is capable of this," I said, motioning towards Lisa Smith's body.

Woody, who was always uneasy during autopsy's, snapped, "I'm aware of that, Jordan. I was just telling you. You know as well as I do that in a murder it's a matter of process of elimination. Everyone's a suspect until they're cleared."

"Alright, alright," I said, shaking my head.

Nigel and Bug looked from me to Woody and back again, questions clear in their eyes. "Well, I-uh, think it's time for me and Buggles to go...somewhere...." Nigel said. He pulled Bug out of the room.

Woody and I stared at each other. "I have work to do," I said and turned to gather the printout of the autopsy report.

"Of course you do," Woody said sarcastically.

I whirled around. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, Jordan. It doesn't mean anything."

"Fine, whatever," I said.

"So are you dating this guy now?" Woody asked suddenly.

I stared at him and saw the slight twitching of a muscle in his jaw, which was clenched.

"No I'm not dating him," I said.

Silence.

"I'm not, we've been out once and we're going out to dinner tonight, that's it," I said, wondering vaguely why I was explaining myself to Woody.

"Fine," Woody said. "I have to get back to the precinct."

"Fine," I replied.

There was another moment of silence in which we stared at each other, then Woody turned and stormed out of the office, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

I heaved a deep sigh and was gathering up the papers when the door to the autopsy room opened and Garrett walked in. "What was that all about? Detective Hoyt just stormed down the hall."

"Yeah, I know."

"Why?" Garrett asked.

I sighed. "I don't want to talk about it," I said.

Garrett stared at me for a minute then shook his head slightly. "Are you ready to go over the autopsy? Renee is on her way over, I don't want you to be around when she does. I'll tell her what she needs to know."

Any other time I might have argued that, but I was too tired to. "Okay," I said and followed Garrett back to his office.

Once we were done going over the autopsy Garrett sent me home. He said he didn't want me in the same building as Renee Wolcott. Again, any other time I might have argued that, but the combined stress of the deaths and the little situation with Woody had me just too tired to argue anymore.

I went back to my apartment and soaked in a hot tub until my skin was wrinkly and I felt somewhat relaxed. I called Andrew at around six o'clock and we planned to meet at seven.

I changed into a pair of tight black pants and a bright red low cut shirt. I studied my reflection in the bathroom mirror, looking critically at the eyes I thought were too small and the nose that I thought was too big. I threw on a little bit of make up and figured that it was as good as it would get and grabbed my purse and jacket and headed to Luigi's.

It was still raining, just a slight drizzle, as I walked the two blocks to the restaurant. I could have driven, but parking was a bitch and I didn't feel like riding in a stuffy cab, so I walked, head bent forward against the rain, staying beneath the eaves as much as possible.

Despite that, I was pretty wet when I arrived at Luigi's. Andrew was standing just inside the door, which he swung open for me as I walked up.

"Hi, Jordan," he said with an amiable smile.

"Hey, Andrew," I replied. He looked at me expectantly, probably wanting a hug, but as I'm not the most huggable of people I just smiled and walked into the restaurant.

Once we were seated Andrew asked me about my weekend and told me about his weekend with his sister and his niece and nephew who were thirteen and ten.

"So is your sister older or younger than you?" I asked as the waiter set a steaming plate of manicotti in front of me.

"Older. I have five older sisters," Andrew said.

"Wow. Big family. Must have been hard for you growing up with all of those girls. I bet you and your Dad hung out a lot," I said.

"Yeah....my father died when I was three so I don't really remember him."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "It's hard to lose a parent."

"Yeah, it is. You sound like you speak from experience."

"I do," I said. "My mom died when I was ten."

"I'm sorry, Jordan. That must have been so hard for you," he said sympathetically.

You have no idea, I thought. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Your dad seems cool though. You said he's a retired cop."

"Yeah," I said. Suddenly I was uncomfortable with the subject. I didn't like to talk about myself as a general rule, and this was getting a little too personal for my taste.

"So, what kind of music do you listen to?" I asked.

Andrew looked taken aback. "Uh, classic rock, mostly. I like the Stones, CCR, Journey. What about you?"

"Oh, I like mostly alternative, I really dig 80's alternative. You know, Depeche Mode, the Cure," I said.

"Huh," Andrew said. "Yeah, that fits."

I laughed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing bad, Jordan," he said with a smirk.

After we finished eating Andrew helped me into my jacket. "You want to catch a movie?" he asked as we stepped from the cozy pasta-scented warmth of Luigi's into the rainy, frigid Boston night.

"I can't, but thanks for asking. I have some work stuff I've gotta get done."

"Wow, I hope they're paying you over time, working at night like this."

I smiled. "Thanks for dinner," I said.

"No problem, Jordan. We should do it again."

"Definitely," I said.

"I'll talk to you later," Andrew said, and with that he reached over and hugged me.

I stiffened, but the hug was over with before I could do anything but stand there stupidly. Andrew grinned and waved as he walked off the opposite direction that I was going.

I watched him leave, conflicting emotions swirling inside of me.

((okay, so what did you think? Please review and let me know......more to come.....))