Chapter Three

So Far, Mostly Good

Their paths did cross. Several times. Jordan kept telling herself that it all made perfect sense and she couldn't and wouldn't let her professionalism be overrun by any leftover, lingering emotions she felt for Woody Hoyt.

Discounting anger, of course.

Yes, she was angry at Woody. Beyond even furious. This was the type of anger that scared even Jordan Cavanaugh. It was a cold, spiteful feeling that yet burned so blistering in her that almost any sight of him caused the white-hot flame of near hatred to flare up in her.

She tried to rationalize it away. Woody didn't murder JD and try to pin it on her. Woody actually worked very hard to present the evidence to the DA so Jordan would be removed as a suspect in the crime.

It wasn't even because of Lu, although Jordan would admit she did have issues with the woman. Admitting to herself that she loved Woody had been a huge step for Jordan. Telling Woody about her feelings was an even bigger one. Showing them to him …allowing herself to be so vulnerable to him that one night at the Lucy Carver Inn and then seeing him shove those feelings back at her in the most hurtful way – that had been hard to swallow.

Especially when the shove away from her landed him in the bed of Lu Simmons.

But even that wasn't the real reason Jordan now had such scorching fury for Woody.

No. It was the fact that he played her. Stirred her emotions up for him to the boiling point and then pulled that emotional rug out from under her, allowing her to land on her ass without having the decency to hang around and help her up.

The entire time she had dated JD, tried her damnedest to make that relationship work, Woody had hovered in the background. First he played the angry martyr, allowing the stress from his back injury to dominate his bad behavior.

Then he had the gall to play the jealous boyfriend, coming between her and JD at every opportunity that arose. She had been smart enough to realize this, but then he began to make her doubt her feelings for JD. And when the chance to make love to her reared its head at the inn, he helped that doubt turn to denial and she ended up in his arms all night and spooned against him the next morning.

Jordan had hoped that finally they had put a name to the dance they had been doing for four years. Unfortunately, she had been so wrong. After she had talked to JD, after she had hurt a man who sincerely cared for her to the point he was willing to overlook her patent infidelity with Woody, the detective backed off. "I don't want to be your rebound guy," he had said.

Later Jordan realized she should have translated that into "Screwed you, didn't I?" For he had. In more ways that one. JD had left to go Washington to work on a story there. And the relationship she hoped to have with Woody melted away like the winter's snow when the warm spring sun made its appearance. Woody was bedding Lu. JD was becoming a highly successful Washington writer.

And she was left high and dry.

But mostly alone.

Woody had played her. Took the feelings she had for him…feelings that she had nurtured for so long and stepped all over them without a care in the world.

That was why she was so angry with him.

But what was making it worse was that Woody wasn't getting the picture. He assumed that once he had her safely back in Boston, they would at least go back to being friends again.

That wasn't happening. Jordan could hardly bear to be in the same room with him. Garret was chalking her reaction up to pregnancy hormones and was at least cutting her enough slack that if he knew Woody was the answering detective on a homicide, he wouldn't allow her to take the call.

Those actions were a big help. At least ninety percent of the time she could operate in relative peace without his blue eyes staring holes through her.

But the remaining ten percent was proving to be a bitch.

"Are you about through there, Jordan?" Woody asked, as she bent over the body that was found in the men's bathroom at Logan Airport.

"Nearly. Just a few more minutes and I can tell the guys to load him up and take him to the morgue," she replied, never looking up at him, only having eyes for the body and any information she could pick up from her cursory examination of the poor man.

"You know the FAA is going to want a complete work up on him?"

"That is generally what's required in situations like this, Detective." Her voice carried the "how-stupid-do-you-think-I-am" tone.

"I know…I just…I mean….that's a lot of work. Are you sure you can handle it?" Woody eyed her expanding belly warily.

"I'm pregnant, Woody. They didn't remove my brain when they ran the pregnancy test." Idiot….

"I…I…know that, too. It's just that…I mean…should you be working so hard now?"

Jordan stood and pulled off her latex gloves. "For your information, not that it's any of your concern, the doctor has said I can work right up until time for me to deliver."

Woody swallowed nervously. Things had not gone as he had planned or hoped for since Jordan had returned to Boston.

Of course, he had never expected her to return…well, expecting.

Now it seemed that nothing he said was right…nothing he did was right. And he had hoped to get their relationship back on some kind of even keel.

Instead the ship kept lisping starboard.

Sighing, he asked the question that had been circling around in his brain for weeks – really ever since she had returned. "Ummm…the baby….when is it due, Jo?"

Jordan bent down and picked up her bag, avoiding his gesture to take it from her. "October 28."

"Ah…well…."

"You can breathe, Farm Boy. The baby's not yours."

Jordan sighed as she hung up the phone. Twenty-four hours after she had picked the body up from Logan Airport, the autopsy was complete and she had the preliminaries for Woody: Massive heart attack. No foul play, just bad genetics and poor eating habits. Ruefully she hung up the phone and stood and stretched. At six months along, she wasn't as big as a lot of other women she had seen, but she was all baby. And the baby kept making itself known – kicking through the night, heartburn, bladder control issues.

It was to be expected. She was due to see her doctor in Boston again next week. While she was on the run, she would visit little out-of-the-way walk in clinics to have her hemoglobin checked and be weighed. She religiously recorded the figures in a small notebook she kept with her. Jordan rationalized she was a doctor. If anything was wrong, she should be able to tell it.

So far, so good. Normal pregnancy, normal movement…completely, wonderfully, boringly, blissfully normal.

And everyone in the morgue was being so supportive and understanding. Bug and Nigel stepped in to do what she couldn't anytime she needed them. Garret was protective and concerned. Lily was, well…Lily…a bundle of nurturing love and care. As a matter of fact, there was only one thing missing.

Her father.

Jordan longed to reconnect with Max at this time. She had tried the number he had given her before he left Boston, but he was no longer there. Patiently she had called every one of his old friends, former officers, and previous customers and vendors from the Pogue. It had taken her a week, but she finally hit pay dirt. She got a number, called, and left a message.

But that was three days ago and still nothing. Sighing again, she got up to retrieve her pocketbook and keys. It was already after five and she wanted to go home and put her feet up. Jordan had one hand on the doorknob when Lily buzzed her office. "Jordan?"

"Yeah, Lily? I was just about to leave…."

"Line two's for you."

"But I'm off duty now…"

"It's Max, Jordan. Line two."