Disclaimer: Don't own them, but if we did they'd have their afternoon milk and cookies taken away and have to stand in the corner for being bad.
Author's Note: Nina would like to welcome Bourbon to the car pool! We hope you enjoy her spin on where Nina takes us.
...this was also one of those situations where life got in the way of writing. We started on this many months before the craziness of the final half of the season happened. Never to let details stand in the way of story-telling, Nina chose to stick her fingers in her ears and ignore a few major canon plot twists. Kind of think of this as if life for these characters stagnated post Death Poll. To try and find logic in it any other way would be fruitless. (Kind of like canon come to think of it.)
Enjoy.
Chapter 1
The Night of the Delta Belle
Just when she thought her life couldn't get campier...it did. She tried every excuse under the sun...and even made up of a few, but it didn't help. She knew was screwed the second Garret said: "It's not like you have anything better to do...and besides it just might be fun."
Who the hell was he kidding? Balancing your checkbook was fun. Cleaning your refrigerator was fun...spending her nights alone watching Ally McBeal reruns and eating chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream was... fun.
Dressing up like an extra from Barbeque-at-Twelve-Oaks scene from Gone with the Wind and taking part in one of those ridiculously inane murder mystery parties was not fun. It was just plain embarrassing.
Her arguments fell on deaf ears.
"Jordan, this fundraiser is for a good cause. Lily's been talking about it for weeks. I guess Brandau's on the committee this year.
"And?" Jordan asked wryly.
"She's blackmailing me, so I'm blackmailing you."
"I'm glad you're not looking at this selfishly."
"It's not going to be that bad Jordan..."
Garret cleared his throat when Jordan cut him The Look. "Okay, you're right. It's probably going to be one of the most painful evenings either of us has had the pleasure of living through."
"But," he sighed. "It's important to Lily and she wants to have some familiar faces there. Besides it's not that different than the cold case nights your father used to have."
Jordan pestered a hangnail on her thumb with her forefinger. From the time she was twelve she'd been reenacting some crime with her father. It was a game that in later years turned into a hobby and after an ice storm one year it turned into an annual brain teasing social event.
It had been years since they'd all been together with a large supply of food and drink...and a dusty, old file between them.
"Dad never made us dress up," Jordan pouted.
"This 'Night on the Delta Belle' cruise has been going on for years."
"Night of the Delta Belle! God, this gets better and better every second. Is Samuel Clemmons the master of ceremonies?"
"It wouldn't surprise me, but no. As I was saying, they outfit one of the Boston Harbor dinner cruisers like its some kind of Mississippi paddle wheeler. Then a group of charitably minded passengers dress in period New Orleans dress and spend the evening eating Bananas Foster and Oysters on the Half Shell while they gamble away a few grand all in the name of the cause."
Save the Children...Feed the Whales. She heard Lily mention what they were fundraising for but for the life of her Jordan couldn't remember. All Jordan knew was for every dollar one of these things raised, ninety-nine cents of it want to make sure the "charitably minded" patrons had a helluva good time to go along with that warm-and- fuzzy-tax-free-feeling they got for their generosity. She'd just as soon write a check.
"You sound like you've done one of these things before."
"Maggie dragged me to one of these a few years back."
"Good. Take her."
Garret didn't bite. "Lily's already reserved our table. Bug and Nigel have already chipped in their ticket price. Seely dropped his off this morning...along with Woody and Lu's.
"Woody and Lu," Jordan chirped, braver then she thought.
"They'll be more. Lily has hit up half the staff and half the department. She wants to make sure it's a sell out."
"Peachy. Who do I make the check out to?"
"Don't worry about it," Garret said with a wave of the hand. "I have you covered and Lily is picking up your costume..."
"You were pretty sure you could talk me into this."
"I wasn't going to give you any other choice," Garret smiled. "We're meeting at the pier at sunset. I'll have Hoyt send around a black and white if you're late."
"Oh, I'm sure Woody will be too busy to worry about me."
Jordan stood on the curb next to her El Camino with her hands on her hips trying to figure out how the hell she got into this mess.
That little voice in her head screamed out the answer. "It's because you have no life..."
A dinner with friends was one thing...but this was verging on going above and beyond.
Jordan didn't want to hurt Lily's feelings when she tried on the dress. The top was too tight and the skirt was too long, but there was no way Jordan was going to wear the hoop. Of course, Lily had to go and point out that it would be a daunting task to pin up the couple hundred yards that made up the skirts hem.
If she hadn't of added puppy dog eyes, Jordan might still be sitting comfortably in her apartment, tacking a new hem, and blissfully missing the entire evening. No. Lily convinced Jordan that maybe she should suck it up and wear the hoop.
It was amazing that the women back in the day could hide a family of six under their skirts yet couldn't spare enough material to make a descent size wash cloth for the top of the dress. The cut of this particular costume shop version made her 34Cs look like an antebellum Pamela Anderson wannabe with a big red flower stuck in her cleavage...as if it needed anymore attention
Jordan opted to add her own accessories and added her decidedly modern jean jacket. The year 2006 meets 1846. At least if she fell out nobody would notice.
Now, as the sun was beginning to set, she stood there looking like a red ,white, and denim sprinkled Barbie birthday cake, trying to figure out how to fit in her car.
"This is totally ridiculous," she swore lifting her shirts.
A wino, that happened to be holding up the wall of the neighboring building, let out a whistle and a crudely suggestive 'fiddle-deedee'. Jordan told him to stuff it and untied the hoops and let them drop to the pavement. She kicked the beribboned monstrosity to the side before she gathered it up and tossed in the bed of the Camino. If it blew out on the way to the pier her heart wouldn't be very broken.
Fishing her keys out of her jacket pocket, Jordan stuffed what was left of her skirts into the car and drove to the water front.
The hi-speed catamaran that was docked at the pier looked nothing like an old time paddle-wheeler but it was a swanky venue that Jordan had secretly wanted to visit for a while. She had been on dinner cruises before. In fact, JD had surprised her by taking her to a wine tasting on one of the smaller vessels last fall. But this particular boat one dwarfed everything else in sight. So did the parade of coition dresses going on board.
"There's one concession...Personal space won't be an issue..." she muttered to herself.
It wasn't hard to pick out Nigel's tall lanky frame in the parking lot. He looked like a cross between Evil Knievel and Brett Maverick when he climbed off his bike and pulled his helmet off his head. The gold brocade vest and frockcoat oddly matched the knee high biker boats that he was passing (and very convincingly too, she thought) off as riding boots. It wasn't a big surprise that he could make the Southern Gentleman look work to a T. He tapped on her window with a cocky smile.
"You made it. Dr.M. was taking bets you'd be a no show," Nigel said opened the door.
"And I'm sure you had a buck or two down on the bet yourself."
"Five, but who's counting...What is this?" Nigel asked, pointing at Jordan's hoop in the bed of the El Camino.
"Damn. It didn't blow out."
"I gather that was the plan," he said cautiously lifting it up.
In Nigel's hands the cage of hoop wire, bone casting, grosgrain ribbon and lace looked like some kind of flocked iron maiden. Jordan bit back a groan and said, "Do me a favor. Cover me while I strap myself back into this thing."
Nigel cocked an eyebrow when Jordan lifted her skirts and stepped into the hoop. Her modesty wasn't in question because underneath the tiered organza Nigel noticed she was wearing...
"Soapsuds and duckies!"
Jordan's head snapped up at Nigel's comment. 'Okay,' she thought to herself. It was a little childish, but if she was home, where she wanted to be...instead of making a fool out of herself in the name of friendship...she'd be comfortably curled up on her couch...wearing her duckie pajama pants.
"I'm wearing a rented hoop, a rented dress and even a rented hair snood. I draw the line at wearing rented underwear." She said thinking about the ankle length bloomers she left in the rental bag in her apartment. Once the hoop was tied she lowered the skirts and "fluffed" them around her.
'Fluffing! I'm freaking fluffing for goodness sake!' Jordan groaned. "I had better get some good Do-Bee points for this..." she said.
"Your presence will be much appreciated darling," Nigel chuckled. "I'm very sure of it. Now turn around and let me look..."
Jordan dutifully spun around.
"Without the jacket."
"Wha?" There was no way Jordan was going to take off her jean jacket. Wearing a hoop was one thing. Showing the chest off to the world is something totally different.
"Nigel!"
Jordan didn't need to turn around to recognize Woody's chuckle.
Nigel looked over Jordan shoulder and cocked his head in a courtly bow. "Woodrow. Detective Simmons. May I say you are looking enchanting this evening? "
"Thank you Nigel and please...call me Lu."
Nigel smoothly stepped around Jordan and took Lu's outstretched hand. "I don't mind if I do," he smiled and in the spirit of the character he was portraying, he lifted Lu's fingerless-gloved hand to his lips. "Enchanté"
Jordan looked over her shoulder and wished she hadn't. To add insult to the injury of dressing like some over grown Bo Peep, the ever elegantly feminine Tallulah Simmons was dressed like a Confederate foot soldier.
Enchanting, my ass...and totally unfair. I want pants.
While Jordan was busy rolling her eyes at Nigel and Lu she didn't notice Woody taking in every detail from the thing that looked like a black-net fruit bag holding her hair back layers of polka-dotted material that made up the wide skirt. Like a kilt...he couldn't help but wonder what she had underneath that skirt.
She looked silly...but endearingly so. He really couldn't throw stones. His idea of going as a Pinkerton Detective seemed clever when he picked it out a week ago, but now that it was on he felt...ridiculous.
"Jordan. Look at you." he smiled.
"Yep." Jordan said she rocking on her heels. The evening hadn't even started and it was the most painful night of her life. Too bad Woody looked like he was already having a good time.
The long brown broadcloth coat was nothing special and the bowler hat was verging on goofy. And his smile was completely...farm boy. That sweet country innocence; those sparkling blue eyes. For one brief moment she saw the old Woody standing there. The one she met in the bank lobby so many years ago.
"What we do for the cause, huh?"
"Yeah," Woody said. "I was telling Lu about the life-size 'Clue' games you and Max used to have..."
"Yes, Jordan," Lu piped in. "Woody went on forever about the Boston strangler copycat case you all solved one year. I wish I were here then. It sounds like it was a very interesting evening."
"Very," Nigel said tucking her hand in the crook of his arm. "One year I was the Milwaukee bondage killer...and the year before that the ice cream rapist of '77. I'd love to discuss them with you over a drink before tonight's festivities begin."
Before Woody could do anything but rub the back of his neck, Lu and Nigel walked toward the gangplank. Jordan couldn't help but notice how the grey flannel pants outlined Lu shapely ass to perfection. She also couldn't help but notice Woody noticing it too. Maybe Nigel was right. The coat had to go.
There's only one way to fight fire Cavanaugh...
Deftly, Jordan unbuttoned it and tossed in the front seat of her car. Locking it, she palmed her keys. "Shall we?"
Woody was no longer thinking about what an odd...yet, eerily attractive...couple Nigel and Lu would make. He wasn't even imagining what she was, or was not, wearing under her skirts anymore.
Hot damn…
"Noir comme le Diable; Fort comme la Mort; Doux comme l'Amour; Et chaud comme l'Enfer..."
Nigel was a natural story teller. His spin could have a crowd of people mesmerized in seconds. Including the people he saw every day.
So it was later that evening, while they all stood at the stern of the boat watching the magnificent skyline of Boston drift by.
Down below, a room full of costumed guests was being entertained by a troop of actors who were leading the Murder Mystery aspect of the evening (Dash and Percival Robber, owners of the Robber Rubber Chicken Company ,makers of fine novelty goods, had been murdered on board the Delta Belle.) It was a far cry from one of Jordan's father's parties. Garret was the first to slip away. Jordan quickly followed. Then Lily, Bug, Seely, Lu, and Nigel all trickled out for some air. Woody tried to hang...but even a Pinkerton man wouldn't have trouble with a case where one of the players was named Mr. Von Killdher.
Lu held her hand up. "Black as the Devil; Strong as the Death; Soft as love; And hot as...l'Enfer?"
"Hell..." Seely translated. "Like where we are now."
Jordan had to smile. Seely looked more uncomfortable than she was. Lily was kind enough to pick up his costume too. And if the ruffled shirt, bright red vest, and enough bling on his neckerchief's stick pin to light up Boston Harbor were any indication, Lily had a good laugh picking it out.
"Yes, as I was saying..." Nigel said with a wide smile. "It was the summer of 1853. They called him The Gentleman and he liked is coffee strong and black. He made his living by grifting on board the many paddleboats that sailed up and down the Mississippi River. That was until he stumbled on one particular boat he decided to hang his hat...You see, it was owned by a beautiful, yet mysterious woman that captured his fickle attention."
"A female boat owner in 1853?" Bug drawled. "I don't think so. Society would have shunned her. Nobody would have sailed with her and she would have been destitute. A female captain would never make it."
"This is my story and I'll tell it the way I want to Buggles and if you don't like it you can go back downstairs and help Inspector McClueblind figure out who "killed" the lovely Miss Body. Our lovely boat owner wasn't a woman to be trifled with. She had a dark secret that only those close to her knew. Besides she surrounded herself with a crusty captain and trusted engineer."
"Her own floating harem...lucky girl." Lily laughed. A few too many mint juleps and not enough smothered okra and tomatoes made her cheeks quite rosy under her orange ostrich feather tiara.
Jordan, herself, was listening with half an ear to Nigel's story. Maybe it was one of the oysters she ate, but the breeze was soft and the lights on the water tranquil. She closed her eyes and began to drift to the sound of Nigel's voice.
"No sooner did our hero set up his business on board the riverboat, the first young woman disappeared off the pier in Natchez..."
