Oh and by the way, the second chapter took place around three months before the first. Enjoy!

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It's strange how you never really appreciate silence until you've experienced a lot of loud noise, or the company of a fussy six-month-old baby. Jordan had tried everything she could think of, rocking her, singing to her, warming up a glass of milk, but nothing seemed to soothe the distraught child. Finally coming to the realization that she couldn't take care of her alone when the neighbor starting pounding on the wall, she called for backup.

"Woody? It's Jordan," she said into the receiver, the baby cradled in her arms, phone resting between her ear and her shoulder.

"Jordan? It's one o'clock in the morning. Is everything ok?" Woody asked from the other side of the line, sitting up in his bed at the undertone of panic in her voice.

"Ya it's fine. Ok well ... not really. I can't get the baby to stop crying!" Jordan sobbed, the exhaustion and frustration starting to get to her.

"Do you need some help?" Woody asked, a slight chuckle in his voice.

Jordan couldn't help but smile. "Could you?" she laughed.

"Of course," Woody replied, climbing out of his bed and pulling his jeans over his boxers, the phone resting on his shoulder. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Just try putting the TV on and distracting her," Woody offered as he slipped his shirt on over his head, the material getting momentarily caught on the antenna of his phone. He shook it free and listened as Jordan turned on the TV.

"Ok," she said quietly. "Just get here soon."

"I will."

Woody hung up, found his shoes, and left his apartment, finding it difficult not to laugh at the idea of Jordan handling a tiny baby. He wondered to himself why she had called him when someone like Garret, who had a daughter, was far better suited and experienced. Not that he was complaining. After weeks of not seeing her or hearing from her except from the occasional update from the morgue staff when they came to visit him, he had sincerely missed her presence, that spunk she brought into a room.

He pulled his car up outside her building and walked up the stairs, finding her door and knocking.

"It's open!" Woody heard her voice yell from the other side of the heavy red door. He grabbed the handle and turned, pushing open the door and walking into the hall. Jordan was sitting on the couch, her long legs curled under her, the baby cooing from somewhere inside a blanket in her arms.

Woody plastered a huge grin on his face as he walked over to them and knelt down in front of Jordan. "She seems to be ok," he said with a smile as he ran a finger down the baby's smooth cheek.

At the instant of his touch, her wails broke out. Jordan tipped her head back in annoyance and scrunched up her nose as if that would get rid of her headache.

"Want me to take her?" he asked.

She brought her head back up so she could see into his face and nodded. Woody slid his hands gently under the blanket, one hand supporting her head, the other under her tiny body. In a swift movement, he lifted her from Jordan's lap and positioned her in his arms. She continued to cry.

Woody stood up and began to walk around Jordan apartment, lightly singing what Jordan recognized as All The Pretty Little Ponies.

Hush a bye
Don't you cry
Go to sleep my little baby
When you wake
You shall have
All the pretty little ponies

Jordan smiled from her spot on the couch as the baby settled, her balled up fists coming to a rest at her side, her tiny brown eyes closing ever-so slowly. Woody continued to sing. A couple minutes later, the bundle in his arms stopped moving and rested gently. He smiled to himself, then looked up at Jordan who looked impressed.

"Not to shabby, farm boy," she said with quiet laugh. The last thing they wanted was to wake her up.

Woody smiled smugly. "Jealous?" he laughed.

"Ya actually I am. I spent three hours trying to do that and you come in here and within five minutes she's out. What's your secret?" she asked, her smile hinting.

"Ah Jordan. You just gotta have the touch," he said with a smirk. Honestly, he had no idea how he had gotten her to calm down so quickly. "Where do you want her?"

"Ummm ..." Jordan looked around her apartment hesitantly. "My bed I guess. I can't put her on the couch, she'll roll off," she said with a smile.

Woody grinned and pushed his way into Jordan's bedroom, feeling extremely awkward. He laid the baby down onto of the comforter and could feel Jordan behind him, watching intently the care he took. When he was sure she was settled, he backed out, closing the glass doors, and sat down on the couch beside Jordan. She was taking up two of the three cushions, her head resting against the armrest, her knees bent. Woody sat as close to the armrest on the other side as possible. Jordan just smiled tiredly.

"Why don't you go to bed Jo," he suggested. "You look exhausted."

Jordan laughed. "Thanks," she said sarcastically. "But I just might have to take you up on that offer. I'm on the early shift tomorrow and I really need to get at least some sleep," she said, though not bothering not move.

"Ya I should probably get going now that she's calmed down," Woody said, getting to his feet and standing above Jordan.

"Wait," Jordan said. "Why don't you just spend the night here? I mean, it's already quarter to two in the morning and we could just carpool tomorrow. No sense ruining the o-zone even more huh?" she said with a hesitant smile.

Woody's face remained expressionless. Then he flashed her one of his great Woody Hoyt smiles. "Sure Jordan," he said with a laugh.

Jordan jumped up from the couch in surprise. She had definitely not expected him to say yes. "Alright. I'll grab you a blanket and you can sleep on the couch," she said as she walked into her bedroom and quietly tugged at a fleece blanket from her closet. She threw it to him while standing outside her room.

"Ok well," she stuttered. Woody found it impossible to keep the smile off his face. It was like they were back in the tenth grade. "Goodnight."

"Night, Jordan."

She closed the door to her room and got ready for bed leaving Woody standing in the living room watching her shadow undress. Jordan curled up under her covers, carefully aware of the baby lying next to her. She could see her little chest rising and falling as her miniature lungs were filled to capacity, and then let it all out. That night, Jordan fell asleep to the steady breathing of the child next to her, and the warm comfort that on her couch, lay a man who would do anything to protect her.

XXXXXXXXXX

The smell of coffee wafted through the small apartment, it's strong, familiar scent stirring her from her slumber. Momentarily she was confused; she did not remember waking earlier and putting a pot on. She looked to the pillow beside her where a small indent laid. Placing her hand upon the spot on the bed, she realized it was still warm and that the baby may have only been gone a couple of seconds. In a panic, she lent over the side of the bed, her heart hammering with the possibility that she had rolled off the side. When there was no sign of her on the floor, realization hit her.

She slumped her head back on her pillow, the sound of Woody bustling around her kitchen arousing the thought that he had taken the baby from the bed. She pulled her covers off her and walked out of her bedroom, stopping and leaning against the frame to watch Woody.

Jordan admired his talent to multitask. In one arm the baby lay, looking up into his face from below. A dish towel was slung over the opposite shoulder and Jordan noticed that he was pouring out two cups of coffee, making toast, and feeding the baby mushed up carrots all at the same time. He looked up suddenly, feeling her dark eyes on the back of his head.

"Morning sleepy head," he said with a wink, turning his attention back to the baby.

"Want some help?"

Woody looked up from his arms and into Jordan's face. He hesitant before saying, "Oh ya." Apparently he wasn't that good of a multitasker.

"What do you need me to do?" Jordan asked, walking into the kitchen and over to Woody.

"Take her?" he asked, looking down into his arms.

Jordan didn't bother replying but took the baby and the food Woody had smushed. Taking her over to the couch and sitting down, Jordan rather felt like a family, though she would never admit it out loud. A husband making breakfast and coffee in the morning, taking care of the baby; the mother waking up to breakfast in bed.

'I could get used to this," Jordan thought to herself.

XXXXXXXXXX

Child services had come and left, leaving Jordan with a hole in her heart. Woody had been there for her, his hand on her shoulder as the lady lifted the baby from her arms. Now she was burying herself in her work, but what else was new?

"Hey Jo I found something out," Woody said as he pushed his way into her office. She was sitting at her desk, her paperwork piled like a mountain in front of her.

"What's that?" she asked, not bothering to look up.

"The baby was the victim's. Bug just confirmed the DNA."

Jordan's head snapped up.

"Elizabeth Montgomery, twenty five years old, residence is up in Taylor Estates. What'd'ya say we go on a little trip?" he asked, trying his best to sound cheery.

"Ya sure," Jordan said, closing a file and standing up. "Pretty ritzy area for someone like her. Not that I'm passing judgment it's just that she didn't exactly look like she belonged in an area like that. I always see people from around there wearing Stiletto heels, Prada and Gucci. Our vic was wearing a pair of sweats and a Las Vegas t-shirt."

"Well why don't we go get some answers to those questions," Woody said with a grin.

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They pulled into Taylor Estates and up the gated driveway of 1564 Scarborough Avenue, the giant castle-sized mansion looming grandly overhead. They walked together to the front door, Woody reaching up and grabbing the large brass knocker, bringing it down twice onto the heavy wood door. A young girl answered, her blonde hair hanging loosely around her face. Her beauty took both Woody and Jordan back.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked somewhat politely but with an undertone on annoyance.

"Boston PD," Woody said, pulling aside his jacket to reveal his badge. Her icy blue eyes flicked down to it, then back into Woody's face, her expression not one of impression or curiosity. "I'm Detective Hoyt and this is Jordan Cavanaugh from the Massachusetts Medical Examiners Office. Were looking for anyone with the name Montgomery who lives at this residence."

An emotion finally betrayed her and concern flitted across her delicate features. "Well the only person who lives here with that last name is Elizabeth but she's not here right now."

Woody and Jordan looked at each other and exchanged a look.

"Is everything ok? Is Elizabeth alright?" Woody and Jordan could hear the panic in her voice.

Jordan pulled a file out from her bag, removing a picture of the victim. "Is this Elizabeth Montgomery?" she asked kindly, putting the picture in viewing range of the teenager.

"Ohmigod," the girl said, her eyes filling with tears. "She's dead." It didn't need to be explained to her; the image of the young woman lying on the metal table seemed to have gotten the message across. "Come in," she said, stepping aside and allowing the through the doors and into an extravagant entrance hall.

They followed her through a wide hall to a living room at the end where she motioned for them to sit down.

"What was your relationship with Miss Montgomery?" Woody asked.

The girl sniffed. "Umm ... she was a maid here. But she was always more than that to me. She was a really good friend. Ohmigod! What about Jenna?"

"Jenna?" Jordan asked.

"Her daughter. Little six month old baby, brown hair, brown eyes!" she said, her voice exasperated.

Woody and Jordan looked at each other again, an understanding flowing silently between them.

"She's fine. Child Services has her," Woody said calmly.

The teen let out a sigh of relief.

"Who are you?" Woody asked, trying not to sound offensive.

"Emma Roberts. I live here with my dad. Elizabeth was part of the staff. What happened to her?"

"We're not to sure. But we need you to tell us everything about Elizabeth that you can." Jordan said.

Emma nodded. "My mom died when I was five, my dad never really got over it. He wanted to move to LA and start a new life, but I refused. So he transfered there and hired help for me to live here. Elizabeth has been with us for about four years. When she found out she was pregnant, my dad wanted to fire her. But I insisted that she stay. Since my dad doesn't even live here he didn't really care. Elizabeth and Jenna both have rooms upstairs and Jenna has a nanny for when Elizabeth was working."

"We're going to need to see those rooms," Jordan said gently.

Emma nodded. "Follow me."

They left the room and walked up the grand stairs to a landing at the top. An endless amount of doors filed off from the main hall. They followed Emma to the end where she stopped outside a door. Jordan noticed as she walked that she was wearing Stiletto heels.

"This is Elizabeth's room," she said, pointing to the one they were right in front of. "And this is Jenna's," she said, pointing to the room directly across the hall.

When Woody and Jordan finished poking around, Jordan asked to look around the rest of the house. Emma again said yes. Woody pushed open a door just three rooms down from Jenna's and was taken aback. He motioned for Jordan to come and look. They both stood against the frame, looking puzzled into the room, then turned their attention to Emma. She motioned for them to go in and followed after them.

"This room looks like it belongs to a little boy," Woody said.

"It did," Emma replied.

"Did? Past tense?" Jordan asked.

Emma nodded again. "My brother Hunter. He was killed when he was four, I was five. Three months after that my mother died."

"How did they die?" Jordan asked, receiving a death glare from Woody.

"My dad put this really awful criminal behind bars when I was two who swore to get revenge. He was baled out and came after us; shot my brother in this exact room, right there in that bed," she said, her emotions hiding behind a wall. "My brother was always the favourite and my mother was heartbroken when he died. So she hired a hitman to kill her. You see, if it's suicide then you don't get the life insurance so she made it look like murder. She was killed in her room, just down the hall. Shot in her bed just like my brother."

Woody and Jordan were wide eyed. "No wonder you're dad wanted to move." Woody said. "What was he anyways? A lawyer?"

Emma looked up from her hands. "No. He was a cop."