A/N: I don't own CJ/JOC or anything related to the show - drat! But I did add some characters of my own for the story's sake. Anyway, if I failed to mention this, the story came to me after Fire From the Sky. Because so far the story centers around Devan and her plans for revenge, and really hasn't mentioned where W/J are now in their relationship, the only problem would be Michael, Devan and Woody's son, and his age. I could slow things down considerably and age him a bit, but we'll have to see...Anyway, please read and review, as always. I enjoy reading your comments and look forward to feedback, critical or otherwise. And don't worry -- I am a HUGE W/J Shipper! Thanks!
Chapter 6 - The Perfect Place
Boston hadn't changed a bit, I thought ironically as I pushed Michael along the crowded sidewalk in his little stroller. I had called the listing first thing and had a showing in the afternoon. It gave me time to get some things situated…
I couldn't very well waltz into Jordan's neighborhood looking like myself. It would ruin my plans, cause discovery too soon. So...The first stopwas to a man I had heard of before who made fake IDs. Woody had told me about him once, said he was on the shady side, would do anything for money. He was an occasional informant for the Boston PD, so I needed to be careful. George Reese met me at a playground, where I looked like any normal young mother or nanny walking their little charge. He carried a laptop and a black briefcase and looked very professional in a blue-collar kind of way. I promised him the money once I had my documents, told him I needed to transfer some money. He was pretty easy, didn't ask a lot of questions. Although his eyebrows raised up in surprise when I gave him Woody's last name as my own.
"You know a Detective Hoyt?" he asked, his New England accent thick. I nodded carefully, waiting to see whether he might give me away. But that was all he asked, and I didn't fill him in. My past, present and future were no one else's business anyway, until I chose to make it their business. "It'll take a while. I'll need five g's." He paused, waiting to see if this would be a problem for me.
"Fine. After I get the documents, you can walk with me to the bank and wait outside. I'll even let you stand with my son, just so you know I won't back out." I couldn't afford the possibility of him turning me in to Woody, and I knew he was too greedy for the money. Michael would be just fine, in mysight the whole time, I reasoned with myself. It seemed a safe bet. Better than Reese following me into the bank and having more ammunition against me as a bargaining chip with the cops should he need it.
I sat on the park bench for awhole hour, flipping through a magazine and checking on my sleeping baby every now and then. I looked up every time someone walked past me, willing myself to remain cool and calm like always. I was afraid I'd be recognized. My nerves were starting to react to the tension and stress, and I couldn't afford that. I could not make a mistake now.
Reese finally walked up to me, strolling along ever-so-slowly, and bent and kissed me on the cheek. "Hey!" I started, but he whispered quickly in my ear. "Didn't want anyone to think anything of us taking off together, Sweetheart." I nodded, my eyes straying over to where I saw a plain clothes officer watching the park from his standard-issue unmarked car.
"Someone following you?" I asked, hoping he hadn't given me away. If he'd called Woody and raised any red flags, I was done.
"Nah, there's some pedophile on the loose and the cops are watching all the normal kiddie spots." He offered to push Michael's stroller, and I let him, as we walked down the street and away from the officer. I didn't want any trouble.
We walked into the bank, to transfer the money over. I could just imagine Henri's dismay to find that he was missing small sums of money. And it wouldn't do to put him on my trail. So I transferred it all, closing the Cayman account as Reese waved at me, Michael sleeping soundly in the stroller he was gripping. I felt a rush. It was going to be too easy. Soon Henri's money would be mine, untraceable. And Reese would be gone, no longer a potential liability. Then I could finally go on to the next phase. I smiled, just thinking about it, causing a stare from the bank president, but I rose to shake his hand and take the money I'd asked to withdraw from my new account. He was only too happy to have such a wealthy customer, and any suspicion was ignored in the face of greed. I knew he wanted me to keep my account in his bank, and as long as he continued gushing with compliments and simpering over me, I was content to let the money stay there.
After my banking was complete, I walked into the lobby, whereReese still guarded Michael, and after breathing a sigh of relief, I motioned for him to follow me. We walked back to the hotel, where I counted out the money.
"Five thousand. You're done. You don't know me, haven't seen me." I was firm.
"Hey lady, I don't know you anyways…Have a great life!" With that, George Reese and his laptop and his black briefcase left me and I was free to move on. At first I worried that maybe he could trace me back to the hotel, but I was sure he would be stopping off at a bar to relieve himself of some of hishard-earned cash and I would become the furthest thing from his mind. Once he bothered to remember - if he ever did - I would be a different person, far gone from the crappy little hotel room, and well on my way to reunification with Woody.
"Here we go!" I said happily, chirping along to Michael as we strolled down away from the dingy neighborhood and toward Boston's finer section. I had a few things to take care of before I met with the listing agent.
I stopped first at a drug store and bought a pair of sunglasses. Next on my list was a wig. And maybe a little stage makeup. All this for when I needed to be incognito - which would be any time I wasn't tormenting Jordan. I had been in the drama club through school, and I was not a stranger to disguises. It sounded almost hokey and I wanted to laugh, but when a police car sped by me, I sobered up, wondering again where Woody was and when I would get to see him. I raced back to the hotel, eager to get my new look together before my appointment with the listing agent. Michael started to coo and giggle as I hastily packed the sole bag we had and deposited it in the little basket under his stroller. When I closed the room to the hotel, I made sure I wiped the room clean from any trace of myself and left the key on the single dresser.
I finished with twenty minutes to spare, and headed back out the door, wig anad makeup in place, Michael in tow, toward Pearle Street. The agent was already waiting along the sidewalk and approached me right away as I held the newspaper and pretended to check the building's address.
"Hi, Miss Hoyt is it? I'm Alana Baylor, the listing agent." The tall brunette walked up to me and shook my hand. "And this is?" She indicated Michael, her voice fake and dripping with honey. I hated people like her, but I just smiled.
"This is my son, Michael. We're just up from…" my mind raced, trying to think of somewhere that sounded legitimate, somewhere I knew. "Virginia," I blurted, thinking of all the time I'd spent in the suburbs of DC with Henri before our broken engagement. Miss Baylor looked clueless about Virginia, her accent clearly from some part of New York, and I let out a small sigh of relief when she commented that she'd never been south of Manhattan.
"Well, let's take the tour, shall we? I'm happy to tell you that there's an elevator in this building, unlike some of the others nearby." She glanced disdainfully at some of the buildings, Jordan's in particular, and I decided that I liked her because of that. I followed along, pushing Michael's stroller through the double doors, and we rode up the elevator in silence.
"Here we are!" she smiled brightly, unlocking the door to a well-lit and spacious two bedroom apartment. It was pretty nice for the price, even though price was no object. What concerned me was the view. I went right to the windows, moving the blinds carefully. "A beautifully laid out unit, don't you think?" she asked, moving around. "The windows leave a lot of sunlight in, very nice for a family." She peered at me from behind the fact sheet, wondering if she'd made the sale or not, but I was too busy. Not only was Jordan's apartment building across from me, but Jordan's actual apartment was too.
"I'll take it!" I said with an enthusiasm I hadn't felt for months. Alana Baylor pulled out the rental agreement, a puzzled smile on her face.
"I'm so glad to hear that, Miss Hoyt…But what exactly sold you on this unit?" She was, no doubt, wondering why I'd agreed to take it without checking out the kitchen or the bedrooms.
I slid open the large glass door that opened onto a small gated patio. "Why, the stunning view, of course!" I said, meaning every word. "It's the perfect place!"