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Fear Itself
Chapter 14
Woody poked his head into Jordan's office, relieved to see her up and at her computer rather than bothering Nigel, Garret, or Claudia about the case. That didn't mean she hadn't been doing so in the hours of his absence, but right then, at least, they were being given a reprieve. "Hey," he said quietly, not wanting to startle her by just barging in.
Her bright eyes darted up from the screen and then right back down. "Hey yourself. Have you found him yet?"
"No, not yet. We have a car outside the house and a few more in town," he explained, sitting on the couch and leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "It's just a matter of time before we catch him. It's gotta be." He'd been telling himself the same thing since the night before.
Jordan sighed and looked up from the computer again, holding his gaze this time. "Yeah, but at the cost of how many more lives?"
"He's in hiding, Jo," Woody implored, not liking the sharp edge to her voice. It sounded too much like his from the day before. This case was hitting all of their buttons, but they had one another to pull the other back from the brink however many times necessary. She had proven that to him last night and now he could prove it to her again. "He won't kill anyone else. We'll find him first." He paused, his hand going to the breast pocket of his jacket to feel what he was hiding inside. "Come here for a second."
Her eyes turned wary, eyebrows knitting in concern. "Why?"
"Just come over here, Jordan." He held his hand out to her, beckoning.
After a moment, she pushed her chair away from the desk and walked slowly over to the couch, sitting carefully on the edge of the cushion next to him. "So, uh, where have you been all day? Santana called looking for you, so I know you weren't with her after you left your office this morning."
Her mind was too quick for her own good, and Woody grinned sheepishly, caught. "I went to get something out of my safety deposit box at the bank."
"And that took you almost six hours?"
"I had to go get it cleaned and checked over, too," he said weakly, displeased that the surprise he had been trying to plan was being ruined by her relentless prodding. "It's kind of old, so I wanted to make sure it was still in good condition."
Jordan cocked her head, raising a single eyebrow and not at all willing to let him off the hook. "Oh?"
"Fine," Woody muttered good-naturedly under his breath, pulling out a small velvet-covered box from his pocket. "I was trying to surprise you."
She reached out and touched the ring box, not taking it from his hand just yet. "Woody, is this...?"
"It's not the same ring," he supplied quickly, shaking his head as the tips of his ears turned red.
That wasn't what she was going to ask but she didn't try to repeat her original question. She took the box this time, lightly running her fingers over the lid for a second without meeting his eyes. Her heart had begun to thud wildly at the sight of it with a familiar fear that said to run and she was having to pour a large amount of effort into making it stop. After a moment just long enough to make him sweat, she opened the lid.
Inside was not the engagement ring she had been terrified of, but instead a gorgeous light blue star sapphire set in antique gold - the kind with an almost orange tint - studded with ten tiny diamonds around the precious stone. She gasped, another "oh" falling from her lips as she gently plucked the ring from its velvet casing and held it up to catch the late afternoon sun coming in through the window. The light made the star appear right in the center of the stone, the diamonds a small brilliance beside it.
"Woody..." She looked back up at him, nearly at a loss for words. "This sapphire...it's the same color as your eyes," she finally whispered, knowing it was cheesy and not caring.
"Yeah," he said quietly as he watched her carefully. "That's exactly what my dad said to my mom when he gave this ring to her on their first wedding anniversary." Without any hint of forcefulness, he took the ring from her and slid it into the middle finger of her right hand. It fit perfectly. "Cal got her wedding ring, but I wanted this one. Now I want to give it to you. She wore it every day. But I mean, you don't have to wear it all the time - or ever, really - but maybe it can be a reminder of your...your lifeline. Of me. If you ever need one."
Tears blurred her vision and Jordan blinked them away, feeling overwhelmed at the incredible thoughtfulness behind the gesture. "I can't take your mother's ring, Woody. I...I know how much this must mean to you."
"I know you do," he murmured, wrapping his hands around hers. "It's just like your mother's locket. Keep it, Jordan. It will make me happy, to see you wear it. And besides, what use do I have for a piece of jewelry?"
She nodded silently, a single tear falling down her cheek. A lifeline. Thank you, she mouthed, unable to make the words form.
He brushed the moisture from her face with his thumb before pulling her into an embrace before she could see that he was about to start crying as well. "You're welcome. I care about you so much, Jo, and I will do anything you need me to do to keep you happy and healthy. I promise. Right now..." His breath hitched, and she wrapped her arms around him in return, knowing he was finally ready to continue their conversation from before. "Right now I'm just afraid. You're right. I'd fall apart if..." He couldn't even say it, but she understood where he was going.
"We've faced the end of the world together," she mused into his ear. "We've also saved each other more times than I can count. Things are just a little...weird at the moment, with this isolation and quarantine and stuff. I went a little crazy there for a while, I know, but everything will be okay." She kissed the soft skin of his neck as much to soothe herself as him. "I love the ring. Thank you."
They were both silent for a few moments before she pulled away and raised a hand to run her fingers down his jaw. "And for future reference - do you remember the ring Pollack got me? The one he was going to propose with?"
The color drained from his face at the memory, but he swallowed loudly and nodded regardless. He remembered it all too clearly.
"I didn't like it," she said, giving him a wide, amused smile as she got to her feet. Garret's warning ran through her mind, and she made a mental note to keep herself in check for Woody's sake. "Too big and bulky, and I don't like that cut. Also, I would never have been able to work with that rock on my hand. Just, you know, for...future reference." She made sure her back was to him when she added, "The one you gave me for my birthday was perfect. Even if I didn't admit it at the time."
"Jordan, are you - ?"
But he didn't have a chance to finish his question. Detective Santana came sprinting through the hall, only just catching herself on the doorframe to keep from hitting the wall. "Hoyt! Why is your phone off? Come on! We've got him!"
"What?" Jordan asked, whipping back around, the previous conversation completely forgotten for the moment. "When?"
"Thirty minutes ago," the other woman replied breathlessly. "I've been trying to call you. Come on, man, the interrogation is all yours! If you want it. Otherwise I call it."
Woody leapt to his feet and snatched up his car keys. "No way. This one is mine. Let's go."
Jordan followed them to the door and out into the hall. "Luisa, was there a struggle?"
She stopped and turned around, her face somber as the question registered. "Um, yeah, there was. He had filled syringes on him when he was apprehended," she said slowly, not wanting to recall the incident herself. "He got two of ours. They've already been admitted to the hospital. Claudia says they'll recover, now that we know the cause and strain. She took the rest of his...I dunno, his vials or whatever to study."
"Jesus." The M.E. ran a hand over her face, letting out a breath she hadn't realize she'd been holding as she walked with them to the elevators. How had she not noticed Claudia leave? "What a monster. Nail him to the wall, guys. I'd do it myself, but...you know. I can't leave."
There was a dinging sound when the car arrived, and Woody turned to her, dropping his keys in his pocket so her could slide both of his hands down her arms. "It's almost over," he told her firmly. "We'll be home by dinner tomorrow."
Instead of answering, she pressed her right hand to his cheek so that her new ring caught the light and pulled him down for a quick kiss. "Good luck." Then she gave him a mischievous smile that brought a spark to her eye. "And while you were gone, Garret gave me permission to do the autopsy on Tom Harrison, even if I did have to twist his arm a bit. Since you didn't give me a chance to give you my report earlier, you'll have it faxed and on your desk by the time you get to the precinct."
A warm feeling akin to relief flooded through his body, from both her touch and her words. She had done the autopsy. They were working as a solid team again, even if the circumstances that brought them back together in that capacity were far from good. Not to mention the fact that her autopsy would be spotless and filled with vital information.
"Hoyt," Santana urged from inside the elevator, aware of what they were discussing but still growing impatient when she had to continue holding the doors open. "Come on."
"Love you, Jo," he whispered before stepping back into the car.
She didn't respond, instead merely watching silently with a small smile as the doors closed in front of them so the elevator could descend. Hopefully it really would be over soon.
xXx
Thomas O'Malley was a very attractive man. Soft, light blond hair, bright blue eyes, freckles, naturally tanned skin. The kind of person other people would be inclined to trust. Sitting alone in the interrogation room under the harsh lighting, he wasn't even breaking a sweat. Woody watched him through the glass, lips pursed tightly. O'Malley knew he had been caught. He knew why he had been arrested. Yet he was just sitting there, cool as could be, while he waited for someone to come into the room.
It made Woody seethe with anger. "Can we start yet?" he asked Santana, who was standing beside him with her arms crossed.
She checked her phone silently, feeling his foul temper and trying to keep it directed away from her. "Walcott wants to be here, especially since he waived Miranda."
He snorted but didn't say anything else, instead looking through the bin of evidence collected off O'Malley's person upon his arrest. There were fourteen syringes, each individually bagged with the bacteria drained by Claudia and removed for testing. Harmless now, but the emotional effect was still the same. There was also a key that would likely match the lock on the Harrisons' house and a retractable hunting knife that Jordan would soon be able to prove was the weapon that killed Mr. Harrison.
The door to the observation room suddenly opened and both detectives looked up, not liking this feeling of dogs having to be kept on a leash as the DA came in and took off her jacket. "Well?" Woody asked somewhat sourly.
"Don't let me hold you back," Walcott said with a mysterious smile that made him nervous. It was too much like the smile Jordan had right before she did something dangerous. Something that involved playing with fire - or metaphorically lighting things on fire. But then again, it was Woody who had pointed out how similar the two women were. He nodded once, took the file from the desk, and walked briskly into the hallway with Santana on his heels.
O'Malley calmly turned his cold gaze to the door when it opened for the detectives to enter. His lips curved up at the corners, not quite a grin but something that could pass as one. He didn't speak.
"Are you sure you don't want a lawyer?" Woody dropped the now-thick file on the table in front on him and sat in one of the empty chairs. "You're in a lot of trouble right now."
"No. Not yet." His eyes sparked momentarily as they landed on the papers and it was obvious he was not anxious in any way about what was going on despite the evidence stacked against him. He rested his cuffed wrists against the tabletop and leaned forward. "I'll answer your questions. If I feel like it."
Working to keep his anger in check, Woody pulled out the morgue photos of the hospital board members and spread them on the table, not wanting to play games with the DMV pictures instead. "Fine. Do you know these people?"
"Yes."
"How do you know them?"
O'Malley's sharp blue eyes met Woody's. This wasn't going to be easy, evidence or no. He was too smart. That, or is he planning something? the detective thought, his mind going through every possibility as he watched the other man quickly supply his answer. "I applied for a job at their hospital. They interviewed me."
"Right." The application was pulled out of the stack as well. "Did you get this job?"
"No."
"And you had just lost another job in New York, is that right?"
A brief flash of malice came into those blue depths, and Woody saw the evil under the facade of normalcy as the man sneered. "How did you know about that? It's unimportant. A mere slip-up"
"Oh, it's very important to us, Tommy. You see," he said softly, "all of your 'slip-ups' mean something. We called the company you used to work for and spoke with your previous supervisor there. She was most informative. Said you were fired. For pushing too hard with your personal research project and live testing. She told us that what you wanted to do was pointless and dangerous and, when informed of this, you...how did she put it, Detective Santana?"
"You lost your temper with her. Threatened her life, wasn't it?" Santana easily cut in, resting her palms on the table top beside her partner to form an intimidating wall. "And her family as well. They kicked you out of the program immediately and ruined any chance you had of finding another job in New York. She even tried to have your medical license revoked, but you left the state before you could be censured. Lucky for her you left in a hurry," she added in a low murmur, "or she would be dead, too."
"You paint a pretty picture," O'Malley replied quietly, looking between them both with a far-removed fury burning in his face, "but that's all it is. I think I'd like my lawyer now."
Not waiting for the DA to tap on the glass to reel them in, Woody snatched back the photos and papers to slide back into the file. All he'd wanted was to see what they had. "A representative from the Public Defenders Office will be here shortly," he snapped curtly as he stood so he and Santana could leave. O'Malley was watching them closely. The mask was gone and all that could be seen on his face was evil. Not wanting to be in that room for another second, Woody ushered Luisa toward the door.
Suddenly there was a scuffling sound and a chair being tipped backward, and then a stinging sensation in the back of his left shoulder.
Santana began to yell and she quickly shoved her partner behind her as she drew her weapon, only aware that Woody was in danger and their suspect was moving. "On the ground!" she screamed at O'Malley, who had gotten to his feet and come after them. She clicked off the safety in an unspoken threat. "Get on the ground, now! Now!"
He just stood there with a sickening smile on his face. The door burst open and five more officers flooded the room to subdue him. O'Malley went easily after that. Shaking from adrenaline, she lowered her gun and turned around, her wide eyes finding an ashen-faced Woody sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall behind her. "Hoyt, what...what did he..."
He was holding a syringe in his hand and staring up at her in fear.
"We missed one."