Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the Crossing Jordan Characters and this is meant only as personal entertainment.
PART SIX
How he had reached his building, Nigel had no idea. He couldn't remember much from the time he pulled out of the parking lot until he was walking down the hallway to his apartment. He was relieved and amazed that he had not hurt himself or someone else in his fog.
As he neared his door, he noticed that there was a piece of paper tacked to the wood. His first thought was that it would be another note from Christina's killer. With shaking hands he reached up and pulled the paper down and breathed a sigh of relief when he recognized the neat handwriting of his neighbor. Relief was quickly replaced with dread, however, when he read that she was holding a package that he had supposedly asked her to sign for earlier in the day. Turning quickly he moved toward her door.
As he was about to knock, he noticed that it was ajar. Panic threatened to overcome him as he pushed it opened quietly, sticking his head in carefully.
"Mrs. Whitmore?" He said softly as he entered the living area. He could see the television on and the old woman sitting in her favorite overstuffed chair. As he neared, his fear grew as he noticed her head slumped forward. "Oh no." he whispered softly as he moved around her. "Mrs. Whitmore?" She didn't move at the sound of his voice. "Not you too." He felt tears begin to once again form in his eyes as he bent next to her. "God no, don't let her be dead." He reached out and touched her arm softy. "Mrs. Whitmore?"
"AHHHH!" He almost fell over backwards as the woman suddenly sat straighter and hit at him with a pillow as she yelled. "Stay away from me…"
"Mrs. Whitmore, it's me! Nigel!" He said as he tried to regain some semblance of composure. She stopped hitting at him and stared. "It's Nigel."
"You shouldn't scare a poor old woman like that. You'll give me a heart attack." She took a deep breath and snuggled deeper into the chair.
"You shouldn't leave your door open. It's dangerous." Nigel chided lightheartedly, relieved that she was still alive and feisty.
"Well, that's your fault. You said you'd close it when you left earlier today." She paused and smiled at him sadly. "I still don't know why you went back to work. Not after getting that awful news about your girlfriend." Absently she thought then blushed with embarrassment. "It was my fault. I guess I didn't close it too good once I put that note on your door." She shrugged. "But still, you shouldn't have gone back out. It's jut not right."
"I had to make some arrangements Mrs. Whitmore." Nigel felt the stab in his heart as he looked at the woman. "I found the note you left me. You said you signed for that package?"
"Oh yes." She carefully got out of the chair, holding onto Nigel's arm for support and walked to an end table sitting near the door. "It's right here." Picking up a small box, she looked at the address then handed it to Nigel. "You need to get some rest. You don't look very well." A withered hand suddenly covered her mouth as she added quickly. "I'm sorry Dr. Nigel. Of course you don't look well. That was so thoughtless of me."
"Mrs. Whitmore, it's okay." Nigel looked at the box then hugged the woman carefully. "I'm going home right now and resting."
"Good. She patted him softly on the arm as she began walking him to the door. "And if you have any spirits, you might want to drink some. It will help you sleep better and not dream." She shook her head sadly. "I didn't want to dream after my William left. Too painful."
"I'll remember that Mrs. Whitmore." Nigel again hugged her softly. "Now, when I leave I want to hear you lock your door. Understand?"
"I'm not feebleminded you know." She smiled as he walked into the hallway. "You just take care of yourself."
"Yes Ma'am." He stepped out into the hall and waited to hear the sound of the lock slipping into place. "Goodnight Mrs. Whitmore."
He walked to his apartment, knowing the woman had already sat back down to watch whatever reality program was on at this time.
Once inside, he tossed his satchel on the sofa and stared at the box in his hand.
"Okay you sonofabitch, what have you got for me this time." He hissed as he sat at the table and carefully examined the outside wrapping.
777 line break777
Woody stood stoically next to Macy as they both stared at the woman on the examination table. Disbelief was etched deep in both their faces as they noticed marks on the body that were very similar to the ones they had found on Christina's.
"I found this next to the victim." Woody handed Macy a picture. It was of a smiling Christina and the woman in front of them. In between the two women, stood Nigel, grinning broadly. "According to what we found, her name is Elizabeth Crawford. Both Nigel and Christina's phone number was programmed into her phone.
"What are you going to do?" Macy looked up from the photograph and into Woody's grave face. "You know Nigel couldn't have done this. It's not in his nature to hurt anyone."
"I have to bring him in and question him again." Woody looked down at the body. "Right now he's the only link I have for both murders." He looked uncomfortable as he spoke.
"But it's not him. You know that." Macy argued.
"Whether I know that or not…."
"Woody, give me 48 hours to try to clear him. That's all I ask." When Woody didn't respond, Macy continued. "Look. I don't believe for a second that Nigel could hurt these women. Give me time to find the evidence."
"And what happens if another woman is killed?" Woody stared at Macy hard. "What then?"
"If another woman comes in like this…" Macy paused as he looked at the woman, "I'll go with you to pick him up." There was a long silence as Woody glared. "Please, let me try."
"24 hours. That's all I can give you." He finally answered. "But if…"
"Thanks." Macy grabbed a pair of latex gloves. "I'll find something."
"I hope you do." Woody whispered as he left Macy, who had already began examining the body.