DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. Willing, ready and able to stage a coup.

NOTES: I've only been working on this for six months now. The upcoming premiere motivated me to get it done! Oh and the police work and forensics is incredibly unrealistic, I know. Call it creative license which, were I being paid for this, I wouldn't do, but given I'm not…well, do the math.

DEDICATION: Those of you who so kindly feedback my stories. I appreciate it tons and tons. J/W fans will like the way this one turns out – after a lot of twists. Scout's honor!

I Know You're Out There Somewhere: Still True

The D.A. strode into the room. "Excellent job, Nigel." She turned to Garret. "It seems he follows orders about as well as Jordan does."

Macy only shrugged.

Walcott wasn't about to back down quite so easily. "You know, it would be nice if you had another suspect. Nice for Jordan, that is. Juries aren't always swayed by this kind of smoke and mirrors."

"It's not!" Nigel protested.

She went on as though uninterrupted. "And if somehow you can still prove she had nothing to do with it, there is the matter of jumping bail. And, if I heard correctly, an illegal handgun."

Walcott's triumph was short-lived.

"Oh, I think you'll find reason to drop those." The room grew slightly more crowded. "Especially with the federal government handling the prosecution." The newcomer smiled widely around. "I have a warrant for all the evidence and I strongly suggest, Ms. Walcott, that you drop all charges against Jordan Cavanaugh. After all, she's going to be a federal witness in a very important case." Special Agent Drew Haley flourished the aforementioned warrant amid cheers from the morgue staff and one member of the B.P.D.

XXXXX

Jordan sighed softly. She'd made contact with Nigel three days ago. As much as it had hurt her pride, she'd asked him for a small loan, her funds running dry. He'd replied the next day, agreeing. Another two messages had set up the place, a Kinko's-like establishment in Wyzetta, Minnesota.

She entered the shop and asked at the counter for a wire transfer for Christy English only to be told there was no such wire. Confused and alarmed, Jordan managed to reign in her roiling emotions long enough to rent a little computer time. She'd check her e-mail, see if Nigel had changed his mind, at least send him something asking what was up.

She was further surprised and more anxious when she saw a new message. Fingers shaking, she clicked on it. Her brows knit down and she re-read the single line. "Turn around."

After a long moment, she closed the message and exited the program, logging off. She then turned around. All she saw were other patrons.

Then she noticed the newspaper. Held up in front of its reader's face. She read the headline.

Twice.

Three times.

"What the hell?" She murmured.

The paper lowered and she gasped. Then she was in Woody's arms.

The paper fluttered to the floor, its screaming type "Boston Medical Examiner Cleared of Murder" now easily ignored.

XXXXX

Woody watched, the twitch of a fond smile playing on his lips, as Jordan, sitting cross legged on the bed in her tiny motel room, read the article again. She looked up to where he stood, leaning against the dusty television. "You guys figured all this out?"

He shrugged. "Nigel did most of it. He's the one who should be here, really." Woody gave her an intense appraisal. "He said…."

She looked back down, her fingers tracing the screaming banner. "I'm a federal witness?"

The cop chuckled. "Well… sort of. Haley mostly said that to get Walcott to back down." Woody smirked. "Nice trick, by the way. That guy could come in handy." Another shrug. "Positive i.d. of the guys in your room when you… when it all happened. Testify. Maybe. Case may not even get to court."

"How'd Haley even get involved?"

Woody grinned. "I guess Nigel asked some questions that… shall we say… set off a few alarms with certain people."

"I taught him everything he knows," she joked. "What questions?"

"I don't know. Neither Haley nor Nigel would talk about it. I think – we think it had to do with the drug Bug found in your tox. The stuff was… Black Ops it sounds like. Obviously, no one thought it would ever be identified."

"But Nige figured it out."

"And it must have been a damn short list of people who could get it."

"God, I can't believe it," she breathed, letting her chin drop toward her chest. "After all this time…" He watched her eyes fill with tears. "So many years… so many… lives changed." Her eyes caught Pollack's name in the article. "Ended." She looked back up, the tears spilling over. "Did he know?"

After a long moment, Woody nodded. "He made the connection."

"It says… it says there'd been a previous attempt… on his life. That car accident."

"Yeah."

"Why didn't he give it up? It was just a story!"

Because he was like any reporter on the trail of a big story? Oh, how much did Woody want to dismiss Pollack, to put into words the thought that could relegate him to the role of minor figure in this drama. He swallowed and chose the mature path instead. "I think you know why, Jo."

"Do I?"

"Jordan." He needed just the soft syllables of her name.

Delicately wiping at the tears flowing over her cheeks, she nodded.

The reason she'd never stopped trying to find an answer.

The reason her friends had unknotted this Gordian of a puzzle.

The reason Woody had flown halfway across the country to bring her news anyone could have told her on a phone.

The reason she'd run whenever people got too close to her.

The reason Woody would have been the rebound guy, at least temporarily.

"Come on," he murmured. "Pack up whatever stuff you've got and we can get a flight out today."

The reason she said, "I can't. Not yet."

END Part Seven