Soulless
Chapter Five: What You Get in Return
Rating: PG-13 (I think)
Word Count: 1,040
Disclaimer: I own Crossing Jordan. Um, right. That was a lie. I don't own anything. Except my own insanity. I can't even claim to own DVDs for Crossing Jordan.
Summary: A serial killer takes a twisted interest in a certain detective.
Pairing: Woody/Jordan
Author's Note: While my previous fics were more humorous than dramatic or suspenseful, this isn't. It's a pretty big divergence from the others. And my life is unbearably busy, so I won't be able to update as often as I have in the past.

So... Dance and cheer for joy (oh, celebrate with me, just a little) because I have another update. In hardly any time at all. And my life is in crisis. But here's more. Enjoy. :)

What You Get in Return

Forty-Eight hours.

In one way they were an eternity—waiting, hoping, praying for some miracle, some clue, the break in the case that would lead to Woody's safe return. And yet time was too short, passed too quickly, results proving too vague.

"If Woody was right," Garret addressed his tired, overworked morgue staff and the detectives that now headed the taskforce, "and the killer is a woman, we may have a suspect."

"After careful study, I have narrowed down the glass from the broken window to a batch manufactured for Mazda Miatas. The security cameras—thank you, Buggles—picked up a woman in a Mazda Miata leaving the garage," Nigel explained, passing around the grainy photo. "Unfortunately, we were only able to track her movements until she got on the interstate and were unable to get any better pictures or more than three possible numbers or letters from her license plate."

"So...she took Woody out of town?" Lily asked with doubt in her voice. She wasn't the only one who doubted the well-groomed woman was their demented killer.

Garret shook his head. "We think she knew enough to confuse the issue. She obscured the license plate and led us away from her real location. She's still in Boston. Still in her ten block radius."

"I've got statements from witnesses here," Seely said, taking out his notes and Woody's as well. "We've got several who remember a Miata and others that remember a woman. According to one description, she's hot, blonde, maybe 5'1", wearing dark glasses, nice clothes, and fancy jewelry. Sorry guys, but that can't be the killer. An accomplice, maybe, but she didn't do it."

"Not in those heels anyway," Santana muttered.

Garret ignored them. They were tired. Everyone was punchy.Everyone except Jordan. She was staring off into space, frustrated by everyone's lack of progress, traumatized by the taunting notes the killer had sent to her. Now she was getting the chocolates, one box every twelve hours, each with a message designed to demoralize them. It surprised them all that it was working on Jordan. They should have angered her into action. Instead, she seemed frozen.

"Accomplice or killer, it doesn't really matter," Garret insisted. "The point is, that woman knows where Woody is. And that means we have to find her. Fast."

"I've been going over the evidence again," Nigel began, "but I haven't found anything yet."

Bug nodded in agreement. He glanced at Jordan. Lily bit her lip, concerned.

"We'll put an APB out on this woman, try and get a match from the partial plate," Santana said.

"We'll also take the picture around to our witnesses and the victim's family," Carver said, rising. Her fellow detectives followed her, Seelymuttering under his breath. Nigel groaned and left with Bug. They were too tired to argue. This damn case was tearing Garret's people apart, Jordan most of all.

He crossed the room to her, touching her shoulder. "We'll find him."

"I'm not so sure," Jordan whispered.

Emmy knocked on the door. "Dr. Macy? They found a body."

"I want this bitch," Macy muttered irritably. "I want her found, and I want her found now."

Nigel looked down at the Bleeding Heart Killer's sixteenth victim. A part of him was grateful that he wasn't looking down at Woody right now, but the rest of him wondered where the bloody hell he was. Was Woody still alive? Did this body mean that the killer had seen fit to keep Woody alive, or was it another of her games?

"Get me everything you can, Nigel," Garret said. "Look for any signs that he might have been held with Woody. And anything that can help us find her."

"Already on it, Dr. M," Nigel said, sounding more chipper than he felt. It was hard not to be negative. The Bleeding Heart Killer had gone undetected for years. She was good at this. Dr. Macy kept saying that they were better, but it didn't feel like it when Woody was missing and Jordan was practically a basketcase.

Nigel took careful photos, walking around the body of a man, perhaps fifty, with a resemblance to Saint Nick that would have been charming if he wasn't dead. Macy had moved off to use his phone, calling Lily to break the news to Jordan. Maybe it would have been better, to know for sure, but...

"Who are you, Chris Kringle?" Nigel muttered as he prepped the body for transport. "And do you know my friend Woodrow?"

He went to open the van doors and caught a glimpse of someone in the tinted window. Blonde, petite, with darkglasses and a soulless smile. He turned around, and she was gone.

"Dr. Macy!" Nigel called when he could speak again. "Dr. M! She's here. I saw her. She's here."

"What? This is a secure crime scene," Macy protested. He grabbed the nearest uniformed officer. "Get Detective Carver over here. And start looking for a woman, blonde, with dark glasses—"

"Red dress suit, 'bout thirty, I'd guess," Nigel added quickly.

"No one got by us, Dr. Macy," the cop insisted.

"Just do it. Now."

Nigel looked at the ground where he had seen her standing. She had been there, he was certain of that, but now that he looked, he saw no trace of her. She would have been... Yes, there. But the ground was soft, and there was no impression. Nothing.

"Nigel?" Macy asked, coming up behind him.

"I didn't imagine it," Nigel insisted. "I didn't."

She smiled to herself as she put the Miata in gear. Fools, blind fools all of them. They would search and search but they would never find what they were looking for. She would not give them Hoyt's body. She would not give them closure. That she would not allow.

This was how it was supposed to be, the way she wanted it. She had taken from them; she would not give back. She took Detective Hoyt, but she took more than one man. She took hope, she took peace, and she took the future from Jordan Cavanaugh.

She smiled grimly. No, she would never give any of it back.

She would leave them wondering, forever hoping, forever tormented.