A/N: In reply to your review, "real - ah, fck it" (nice name, btw - lol) it's probably harder to read than other stuff because therearee like 7 people writing, each with their own ideas on how the story is to go!
Anyway - this is my next chapter, and my character is of course Det. Marcus Camerez. And no I am not a chapter hog. :P Not at all...
GoddessofSnark - please see below. There is what could be considered a slashy reference in this chap - I wrote this BEFORE we had the 'slasher' discussion. LOL. I'll explain below.
Please review mercilessly!
Chapter 6: The Murderous Glint
Woody was feeling very left out. A serial killer, and one pushy FBI agent, two hot-headed detectives and the whole ME's office were on the case. And he wasn't needed.
Of course this bout of self pity was only trying to push out of his mind the horror orf seeing her again. He had flipped. Things were finally going well for them, way back then in Wisconsin, and he had freaked and done a runner. Like Jordan had, he thought suddenly. He hadn't heard from the woman since, so of course it was a shock for him to see her again.
He tripped on a piece of uprooted carpet and was jerked back into reality. Time for a quick jaunt to the morgue, he thought. Maybe see if Jordan had something for him.
When he reached her office, he knocked and walked straight in, but wished he hadn't. She was standing close to a man, who was staring down at her, seemingly angrily. Her hand was clenched. As soon as she saw him she jumped back, sending the man yet another angry and hurt look. The man's gaze ran over Woody coldly, before he planted his backside in the ME's chair.
"Lunch?" Jordan said to Woody, pleading with her eyes.
"You read my mind," Woody said, glaring at the man.
She couldn't have walked any faster as she left the room. She tension snapped and she sighed.
"Thank God for you, Woody," she said, patting his arm gratefully. They walked to the parking lot.
"Why were you talking to Camerez?" he asked in what he thought was an indifferent voice.
"You know him?" she asked glibly.
"He's a homicide detective. The Boston PD isn't that big. He just came here. You got on his bad side already?"
"Scarily enough, I think that is Marcus's good side."
He frowned at the casual use of his name.
"You know him."
She looked at him, aware of what he was thinking.
"He lived here a while back," she replied. "A couple of years before you got here."
"But he only just got here the other day…" Woody was confused.
"He left and came back," she said flatly.
"You were friends?"
"Of sorts," she said, shrugging. "He was more friendly with Garret than me."
He frowned at the inference in the stressed word 'friendly'.
"How are the newbies going?"
She grinned, glad to have a change of subject. They pulled up at a café and jumped out of the car, ordering their food.
"Garret read them the riot act and sentenced them to one weeks 'boring' cases. I.e. your suicides and natural causes, and some of the homicides. He doesn't want them on the serial killer's case."
"Why?"
"Because we're more experienced. And someone needs to do the backburner cases."
He shrugged. "I know how they feel."
She laughed. "Aw, poor little Woods, feeling left out?"
He grimaced.
She looked at him properly as she handed over the money for their lunch, and got back into the car.
"What is that on your face?"
He touched a hand gingerly to his left eye.
"A little friction," he said, not elaborating. She shrugged, not wanting to press him. If he wanted to volunteer information then fine, but she wasn't going to make him. He glanced at her and grinned, quite uncharacteristically. "On the female front."
She felt a twinge, then grinned back.
"Oh?"
"It seems that a lot of demons have seen fit to return along with our friend the killer."
"Really?" she said, trying to sound disinterested.
He looked at her. "I'll tell you if you tell me."
She met his eyes and grinned again, knowing full well he wanted to know about Camerez, and also knowing that he knew that she wanted to know about it. They both knew, basically, Jordan thought, giving up on the previous train of thought.
"You are too perceptive," she said, still smiling. He raised an eyebrow momentarily.
"We were lovers, basically," she said. "He left. In a nutshell."
He nodded. "Ex girlfriend," he said, volunteering his own information.
"Who?"
He grimaced. "The red head."
An expression of enlightenment appeared on her face.
"Oh," she grinned. "The FBI agent. What a handful." The something else occurred to her.
"My god it is the smallest world ever!" she exclaimed just as they pulled up. They got out, Woody looking questioningly at her.
"They know each other," she said. "Fox and Marcus."
"Know? How?"
"They worked the case back in Nebraska before he came back."
Woody shook his head, expression of suspicion on his face.
"Jordan," he began. "One of Bug's ex girlfriends is here as well."
Her eyes widened. "Really?" she said, but Woody was still convinced that she wasn't on the same track as him.
He tried again. "Coincidence? I think not."
It dawned on her, and she turned, jumping back into the car.
"I'm going to run it by Marcus," she said, and started up the car. "You talk to Garret. Keep it under the hat, okay? We'll see if any more demons turn up.
"My cousin is here, too," he said as an afterthought.
She shook her head. "I think you're on to something, Sherlock," she said, and drove away, munching on her sandwhich as she did so.
"Marcus!" she said, bursting into his office.
He frowned and looked up from his desk. He had the phone to his ear, and beckoned her in.
"No, just bring it up here. I'll take it down to the morgue and compare it myself…no! Don't worry about it. Just send it up." He hung up.
"What was that?" she asked.
He shook his head dismissively.
"Can I help you?"
She winced at his cold tone, and was taken back to their last conversation. He had come into her office, uninvited and most certainly unexpected.
"Want to pick up where we left off?" he had said, sitting on the other chair nonchalantly. She looked at him, surprised.
"And where was that?" she asked, stalling.
"Don't try to evade me," he said dryly.
"No. You don't want anyone to outdo you," she said coldly, standing up. "I have to take these to…"
He stood and intercepted her.
"Don't walk away," he said, eyes flashing. She frowned, and stared at him.
"What happened to you?" she asked, not wanting to step back. The proximity was rather welcoming, he was stirring all sorts of things in her that she thought she had gotten rid off. Memories came flooding back, what they had had couldn't exactly be considered love, but it was close. Very close. She certainly enjoyed his company; his sarcasm was somewhat refreshing, as strange as that sounded.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "I'm exactly the same. It's you who has changed."
She glared at him, not knowing exactly what it was about his comment that made her angry. Maybe that she was thinking things that would probably make her a hypocrite. One was wanting to berate him from leaving her in the first place, but she had done that so many times to so many different people it was no longer a legitimate argument. She made to push past him, sick of the tension, but he grabbed onto her arm. Her movement had put him closer to her and he leaned forward and kissed her. Surprised, and complied until she realized what was happening, whereupon she pushed him away. It was an angry kiss, a cold one, in the heat of an argument, but it was what she remembered. If only a little modified. Maybe it was her who had changed.
She stared at him, eyes round, watching his impassive face, and was relieved beyond relief when Woody had come in and saved her.
Now she stared at him, and the tension returned. Her heart sank – was it always to be like this? Could they not get over it, like the adults they professed to be?
"Woody and I were talking."
"Alert the press," he said in a bored voice, but held her gaze, knowing her and knowing she would not come in here, after their interlude, for trivialities.
She walked over to the desk and sat in the chair.
"You and I were involved. And that Fox woman was involved with Woody."
"She was?" he said, interested now.
"When she was stationed in Kewaunee."
He nodded. "Okay…"
"Don't you think that's weird?"
"No…"
"Woody and I were…kind of involved."
"Kind of?"
"Yeah. Sort of. Nothing really came of it. But we're friends, anyway, which is still weird."
"What are you saying, Jordan?"
"And Woody's cousin is also here. When she wasn't before."
"What are you getting at?" he asked, thoroughly impatient now.
"And," she continued, getting some satisfaction out of discomforting him. "An ex-girlfriend of Bug is also here."
He frowned.
"You think that our killer had something to do with it," he said, serious now. She shrugged.
"I don't know. I just thought I'd run it by you."
He leaned back in his chair, weighing her up. "Glad you can still speak to me."
He watched a look of near fright flash over her face before it was quickly masked. She feared him, he thought. But not exactly him. What he represented. And what was that, he wondered in interest.
"I'll go talk to Foxie about it," he said, standing, careful to keep the distance between them.
"You do that," she said, feeling rather defeated, for some strange reason that she couldn't put her finger on, and watched him walk out of the room.
---------------------------
He grinned. He'd throw them this time. Three in every state. Bah.
He laughed to himself. He really had to hand it to himself, he was good. He was now considered a mass murderer, he had killed over fifteen people, give or take a couple. He'd given up counting. The Fox, as he had named her in sarcasm, was rather funny, when it all came together. She had no idea, no idea that it was she leading him. If only she knew…but she would.
He couldn't believe that she hadn't picked it up yet. The fact that everyone connected with her, and people connected with the people who were connected with her were congregating. He'd heard about the Boston crew, and they were on the money. In every state, most of them were dullards. Of course, in most there was one of them who was mildly intelligent, but still no challenge to him. He grinned to himself. The ultimate challenge, The Fox, who had been with him all the way, and Camerez had followed him. Or, rather, he had followed them. He was surprised that Camerez had followed him – he knew no one to have done so since The Fox. They all gave up, and washed their hands of him once he left their jurisdiction. They did what was easy.
He grinned. As opposed to him, who did neither what was right, nor easy. They never gave the murderers enough credit. What they did was thirsty work! He grimaced. Especially when they fought. You'd think they'd just succumb. What about the whole 'murderous glint' in his eye? If anyone had it, it would be he. He shrugged, turned, and walked out of the house, wiping the blood from his hands on his ebony jeans.
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The stars were deceptively peaceful as they twinkled high above them. The whole crew was at the house, Agent Fox, Detectives Camerez and Cœurvay, and Jordan, Woody and Garret were there. And Jordan could have sworn that she saw Kade hovering around with the uniforms.
Camerez was looking worried, and leant towards Foxie as they both watched Jordan and Garret do their thing.
"Four in a matter of two days."
She nodded. "Yeah I have been following."
"Good to hear," he said lightly. "We have to catch this bastard."
"We?" she said, wrinkling her nose. "My case."
He shook his head. "We did this last time. We're not butting heads this time."
"Or?"
"Or he's going to kill more people," he hissed, noticing Kade watching them surreptitiously. Foxie continued to watch the MEs, deliberately ignoring the detective.
"I know," she said. "I just didn't think you cared."
Camerez drew back, and adopted an indifferent expression. "Whatever," he said, not able to keep the bitterness from his voice, and stepped around Foxie to speak to Woody.
"Howdy, detective," he said, causing the younger man to jump. When he saw who it was, Woody's face steeled.
"Do you have anything you need to tell us?" Woody asked, turning his full attention to the other detective.
Camerez studied him. "We've only got what Foxie's profilers know." He paused. "But why don't you ask her?"
Woody winced. "Same reason you're steering clear of Jordan, or vice versa," he said.
Camerez shook his head.
"Was it something I said?" he wondered to himself jokingly, admiring his own ability to turn people away. A spasm crossed his face, visible to none but Jordan who knew him probably better than anyone else, and he turned and walked out of the house, unable to face yet another grim doctors face telling him there was nothing he could use to pin the son of a bitch.
Jordan ran out after him, light in her eyes. She did not like what this case had obviously done to him, didn't like that after all the years she knew him, something, someone had finally gotten through his thick, thick skin.
"I'm sorry," she said. "About what I said before."
He studied her as her turned. She looked earnest enough. He felt defeated and wearied.
"We'll get him," she said, knowing his mind. He nodded.
"Or her," he said, shrugging. She grinned, somewhat shakily.
"I'm sorry about before as well. I shouldn't have…well you know what I shouldn't have done. But you look exactly the same as you did six years ago. Do you remember that night?"
She reddened. "How could I forget? Even the copious amounts of alcohol didn't really block it out like I would have liked."
He grinned and deigned to laugh, before reaching out and putting his arm around her shoulders. She leant into him, glad for the friendly gesture.
From the door, Woody watched, wishing he could reconcile with his own demon so easily.
"Woody!" a voice at his shoulder said. He turned.
"Hey Kade," he said, smiling. She was grinning uncontrollably.
"We've got a print!"
Okay - Goddess, and anyone else who may have a like mind - the inference in there was when Jordan stressed the word 'friendly' when she was talking to Woody about Camerez. I meant that purely because - and even now I think it may have been unneccesary - that they were lovers for longer than they were friends. -shrug- I read over it before and it DOES sound rather slashy. But you know. :D