Disclaimer: Don't own anything remotely connected with Crossing Jordan. It all belongs to Tim King and Tailwind Productions who are really doing a good job with the show….
Hey….it could happen.
You've got me.
That's what she told him. And she had meant it. With all her heart.
She still did, even though she was thousands of miles away…alone. She had left Boston. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to.
She had to in order to protect Woody. She groaned and bit her lip at the pain that now sliced through her body. She never expected it to turn out this way… not after that Monday when she woke up nearly a year ago and thought, life couldn't be getting any better.
For once, her life had taken an upward swing. So much had happened during that last year…LA and Woody telling her he wanted to hold her tighter. Then after discovering the remains of the old Boston mob bosses in a shallow grave, she had told him that he would always have her…even if everyone else deserted Woody, she was his. He had reached over and taken her hand then. She smiled through her pain at the memories. They had grown so close. She had been at the place in her life where she simply couldn't imagine her living without him.
She didn't want to then, but the harsh fact now was that he wasn't here. He couldn't be with her again for a long time…if ever. She grimaced at the pain that continued to spread through her body as she reluctantly began to roll out of bed and face reality. A reality that didn't include him.
It had begun with a visit to her office by a stranger with a foreign accent. "Good morning, Dr. Cavanaugh," the man said, in a voice that was heavy a dialect Jordan had hard time identifying. "May I come in?" He pushed past her without waiting for her answer.
"No….wait….who are you?" Jordan had asked
"It's not important that you know who I am. It is important that you realize just how much I know about you."
Jordan felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She didn't answer him…just kept her own gaze even with his cold one.
"Ah. I can see you don't get rattled easily, Dr. Cavanaugh. Good. Why don't we sit right here," he sank down on the couch in her office and patted the cushion beside him, "and have a little chat. I promise you will not get hurt if you cooperate."
"And I've heard that line more times than I can count. I'm calling the police."
"Trust me, Jordan. You do not want to do that." He held up a hand to stop her.
"Why? Why should I believe you?"
"Because. I know you. I know all about you. Who your friends are….where they live. Where you live..."
Unnerved, but keeping her face blank, Jordan warily sat down in a chair across from the man. "What's your name?" she asked.
"That is not important. I am here to request that you not testify in the Albanian mob case."
So. That was it. The accent should have been a dead give away. "Sorry. No can do."
"I realize you are the lead ME on that case…you have enough forensic evidence to put my Albanian brothers away for a long time. As well as the brother of the man you love. I am here to try to persuade you not to do this."
"Not a chance. The trial is in three months….and I'm ready to go forward."
"I would urge you not to do that, Dr. Cavanaugh."
"Not a chance."
"Your actions will put people in grave danger."
"Maybe those people need to be in grave danger. Maybe those people should be stopped."
"Even this one?" He threw photograph in Jordan's lap. "I warn you, Dr. Cavanaugh. If you testify, this person will be hurt…badly. Probably permanently. Especially if you do go to the police, or tell this person he is in danger." He stood to leave. "Good day, doctor. I trust you will make the right decision. We will be watching you. Closely."
Jordan picked up the picture and turned it over to look at it as she heard the man leave and the door shut behind him. Turning it over in her hand, her heart caught in her throat. It was a photograph of Woody.
Her investigation into the Albanian mob case had taught her one hard lesson: The tentacles of the organization ran deep and spread out into areas she had no idea they had influence in. The further she traced it, the deeper and wider it ran. If anyone could do physical harm and get away with it, these guys would. So she took the threat made on Woody's life seriously. If she was being watched, they would know when she was with Woody. And if they knew when she was with him, they may think she was passing on the information that he was in danger.
Her fear was tangible. The risk was unacceptable.
She began to avoid being alone with Woody…a behavior he now found confusing. Since they had become closer, time alone was cherished. "What's wrong?" he asked, one afternoon when she had once again two-stepped around the issue of going out.
"Nothing…nothing is wrong, Woody. I just need to work late tonight."
He shot her a puzzled look. "You've said you had to work late every night this week that I've asked you out. Have I done something to make you mad?" He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. That was nearly her undoing….those eyes.
"Look, if we're taking this relationship thing too fast for you, let me know… we can go slower…"
And if we go any slower, we won't be moving at all, Jordan thought. "No … I'm fine with everything, Woody. It's just that…" her voice had trailed off and she bit her lip. "It's just this case I have…it's got me preoccupied and I guess I'm just too caught up in it."
"It's not your mother's murder again?" he asked sharply…knowing that could cause Jordan to go off the deep end.
"No…it's not that."
"I promise. It has nothing to do with that."
Woody sighed and pulled her to him. "Okay. Just…don't let it get the best of you…because that's the part I want for me," he had jokingly told her before he kissed her and let her go…for her to go back to her office and him to go back to his apartment… alone, but safe.