This is a "Crossing Jordan"/"Law & Order" crossover. All L&O characters are property of Wolf Films and totally not mine! The CJ characters are Tim's as stated on the home page. :0) Have fun!!
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District Attorney Renee Walcott looked at the phone in her hand. She couldn't believe it. It had been over a month since the Michaelson kidnapping ended up as a homicide. Brutal case. No arrest. And now she'd just spoken with a Lieutenant Anita VanBuren in New York who was requesting a Medical Examiner from Boston. Someone familiar with the details of the Michaelson case. It looked like the kidnapping and murder with the same M.O. in NYC. They had a suspect in custody, but they needed Boston's help to conclusively pin the murder of the new girl to him. The DA had already said that if it's the same guy, he'll give Boston first crack at him. She needed to send the best.
"Damn it! Why?" Renee knew exactly who Garret would send. And yet she had to ask him. If Elaine was still alive. . . No, even then she'd have to ask Garret. And she already knew what he was going to say. . .
"Renee, she's the single most gifted medical examiner I've ever worked with. She cares more, she gives more, and I think she even enjoys it more than anyone I've ever seen." Garret was looking across his desk at Renee.
"But are you sure she's stable enough? I mean after all the Malden mess."
"Renee, I trust Jordan with my life." He saw Renee shift uncomfortably in her seat. "What the hell do you have against her?" Realizing what this must be about, Garret almost burst out laughing. "Oh my God! Renee, she's like a kid sister to me ~ that's all."
"I see." Renee was horrified to feel the blood rush to her cheeks. She hadn't even wanted to admit to herself that she was in fact jealous of Jordan Cavanaugh, in spite of all the problems the girl had. And Garret calling her on it only made it worse. "Well, I suppose if you're sure."
"If it would make you feel better, I can send someone along with her. Perhaps Nigel Townsend? He is the best at the trace stuff ~ and if they're working with computers. . ."
"Fine Garret, send whoever you feel is best."
"That's Jordan and Nigel."
"Fine. I'll get their tickets and work things out with Lieutenant VanBuren." Renee got up, smoothed her skirt and left the office. Garret reached over to buzz Jordan's phone but only got as far as picking up the receiver.
"What was the Wicked Witch of the West doing here? Complaining about me as usual? I don't know what I ever did to her."
"I like you. As a kid sister, but I like you."
"What?"
"Never mind. Renee was here to. . ."
"She's jealous of me?!?!?" Jordan was incredulous.
"Let it go, Jordan? Please?"
"Sweet. Ok, ok. I'm focused," she said as Garret started to draw in a sharp breath.
"As it happens, I was just getting ready to page you."
"Me? Why? What'd I do now?"
"Earned yourself a trip to New York."
"New York? Why?"
"Remember the Michaelson case?"
"Yeah." Jordan shivered as she remembered the way they'd found the girl's body, the things they knew the monster had done to her.
"They think they have the guy in New York City."
"Huh?"
"Apparently there was a girl's body found in a similar condition in the city. They have a guy in custody that they're pretty sure they can pin to that one. As a professional courtesy, they're going to let us look at the body and evidence they've got to see if we can link it to Lauren. If we can, we get first crack at convicting him."
"And Renee wants me to go?"
"She wants the best. I made the decision. She's having the DA's office make your travel arrangements and she'll send two tickets over in a bit."
"Two?"
"I'm sending Nigel with you."
"Garret, I don't need a babysitter!"
"Jordan, that's not it. I don't know what kind of equipment you're going to find there. Nigel can help out with that ~ and he knows the Michaelson stuff as well as you do."
"Ok. Does he know yet?"
"I'm just getting ready to buzz him. Hold on." Garret punched a button on the phone. "Nigel, could you come into my office for a minute, please?"
"Yes, sir. I'll be right there." In less than 15 seconds, he strolled into Garret's office. "What's up boss?"
"Field trip, Nige! Garret's sending us to New York." Jordan looked at him, a big smile on her face, trying to convince him they weren't in trouble.
"The Big Apple? What's the occasion?"
"There's been a kidnapping and murder there. Real similar to the Michaelson case you and Jordan just worked. They have a suspect in custody and want to give us the opportunity to examine the body and see if we can tie it to ours. Renee wants me to send the best I've got. And I'm looking at them."
"Alright, Garret. What should I take with me?" Nigel was eager for an opportunity to scout the equipment other departments were using.
"I'll have Peter and Bug put some things from here together. In the meantime, the two of you have a couple of hours to get packed. Be back here at noon. Renee should have your tickets here by then."
Jordan and Nigel left for their separate apartments to throw some clothes and stuff into a bag. They returned to Garret's office at noon and found two Amtrak tickets waiting for them, along with Renee Walcott.
"Here you go. You're on the 3:15 Acela Express. Someone from the NYPD will meet you at Penn Station at 6:42. You've got tickets to come back in a week, but they can be changed if necessary. Someone from New York is handling your hotel arrangements."
"Alright. Garret, I'll keep my phone on in case you need to reach me. And we'll let you know info once we get there."
"Here's some money for your meals. Anything else, save the receipts and I'll see what I can do. Now, I want a daily email report of your progress every evening. I'll save you from having to do it today, but beginning tomorrow evening. And anything urgent. . ."
"We'll call you. Renee, I can do this." Jordan looked at her, still highly amused that Renee though there was something between her and Garret. Totally not!
"Very well. I have a car waiting to take you to the Boston South Station. We'll see you in a week."
"You two be careful and stay safe." Garret looked at Jordan and Nigel as Renee walked out the door and turned towards the elevator bay. "And try to have a little fun while you're there too."
"Thanks Garret. You can trust us!"
"I know, Jordan. That's why you're going. Now, you'd better get out of here."
The train ride was uneventful, but it gave Jordan and Nigel some time to catch up with the goings on in each other's lives. Before long, they were pulling into New York's Penn Station.
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Lieutenant Anita VanBuren was waiting in the lobby of Penn station, holding a sign with the names Jordan Cavanaugh and Nigel Townsend on it. She'd decided it was easier for her to pick the two guys up from the station. As the announcement came that the train was arriving, Anita moved towards the escalator for their track. She saw a tall, lanky man approaching her. There were supposed to be two of them, but he did seem to have a lot of baggage with him.
"Hello. I'm Nigel Townsend. It's a pleasure to meet you." Nigel set the bags down and extended his hand. Anita took it.
"Dr. Townsend. It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for coming on such short notice."
"Oh, we're happy to help out. And if this can give Lauren's family some closure, that'll make it all worth it."
"Weren't there supposed to be two of you?"
"Oh, yes. I'm sorry. Jordan needed to stop off at the restroom. She should be right here."
"Oh. Dr. Cavanaugh's female."
"Definitely. Is that going to be a problem?"
"No, no. I'll call the hotel and see if there's another room available."
"We'll be fine. I mean, we're not. . . But as long as there are two beds in the room we'll be fine."
"Alright. I'll just go and pull the car around. Go out this door and I'll meet the two of you there."
In less than a minute, Jordan joined Nigel. "What, they're not here yet?"
"No, no. Lieutenant VanBuren went to pull the car up. We're to meet her out this door."
"Ok. Let's go!"
They walked towards the door. Nigel looked around for Anita and quickly began moving towards her car with Jordan trailing. He set his bags in the trunk and reached for Jordan's bags. He started to introduce Jordan when they both saw Anita standing dead still, looking like she was seeing a ghost.
"It can't be. No, I was at the hospital. I went to her funeral. It just can't be" Anita's internal dialogue was going crazy. She was looking at a woman who looked exactly like Claire Kincaid. Longer hair and dressed slightly, alright, a lot differently, but still ~ a dead ringer for Claire. "But it can't be! It just can't. . . Unless everything was staged and she just wanted to get away. But. . . No! Claire would never have taken part in anything like that!" She saw the M.E.s from Boston looking at her quizzically. She knew she should say something, but only three words came out of her mouth.
"Oh my God." Anita VanBuren struggled to find something else to say. Praying that her vocal chords would work and her brain would come up with some other words.
Jordan and Nigel looked at each other, totally confused. Finally Jordan broke the silence.
"Um, is there something wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I feel like I'm looking at one." Anita immediately regretted the tone of her voice as she spoke. "I'm sorry. It's just. . . You look so much like someone who used to work in the District Attorney's office. Claire Kincaid. She was just amazing. Young, bright, full of life ~ not that anyone really knew that side of her unless she knew them outside work. You sound like her too."
"What happened to her?"
"She was killed by a drunk driver in May 1996."
"Oh my God. I'm so sorry."
"It's ok. It just shocked me how much you look like her. Dead ringer."
"Oh. Well, I'm Jordan Cavanaugh from the Massachusetts Medical Examiner's Office." Jordan held out her hand. Slowly Anita took it, her eyes never leaving Jordan's. Finally she broke from the handshake and shook her head, as if to clear it.
"Well, I guess I'd better get you to the body. The hotel's reserved, so we can get you there anytime. Do you have everything?"
"Yes, we're fine. Thank you." Nigel decided to take charge of the situation since Jordan seemed completely unnerved by Anita's reaction.
They drove through the city traffic. Anita's mind was whirling. She knew this couldn't be Claire. No matter how unhappy she was at the D.A.'s office, Claire had more sense than to fake her own death. There were too many variables that could go wrong. But it was creepy how much this M.E. from Boston looked and sounded like Claire. They'd get things straightened out eventually. In the meantime, Anita made up her mind that whatever it took, she could not let Jack McCoy anywhere near the rooms where Jordan and Nigel would be. Her own stuff she could deal with. Lennie's reaction she was pretty sure she could deal with. Jack's reaction? No way that could be predicted or controlled.
They got to Police Plaza and Anita quickly handed Jordan and Nigel off to someone from the NY M.E.'s office saying she'd come up to see how they were doing a little later. She needed to find Lennie ~ the only other person around who had really worked with Claire. Maybe he could make some sense out of all this. Thankfully he was at his desk finishing up some paperwork.
"Lennie? Can you come to my office for a minute?"
"Sure. Is something wrong?"
"Just come here."
Perplexed, Lennie set his pen down and pushed his chair back. He was the primary detective on the case of the girl Jordan and Nigel were looking at. No ID had been made. They weren't even sure that she was from New York. Could the Boston team have figured something out already? Taking a deep breath, he walked into VanBuren's office.
"Shut the door, Lennie."
"Am I in trouble here?"
"No, no. Nothing like that. I just need a sounding board."
"A sounding board?"
"Yeah. I just picked up the two M.E.s from Boston. They're upstairs."
"Something doesn't feel right about them?"
"No, no. I've been assured they're fine. It's just that the woman. . ."
"One of those gender-neutral names?"
"Yeah. Jordan. She looks exactly like. . ." Anita's voice started to break. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard.
"Who? Who does she look like?"
"Claire."
"Claire Kincaid?" Lennie looked stunned. He was in the car that damn night ~ the drunk driver, the horn, the lights. The blood. He sat at the hospital with McCoy until. . .
"Yes. Longer hair, dresses more casual and sexier. But I swear Lennie, she could be Claire's twin. I just. . . I felt like I was going crazy. I mean, we were there at the hospital. We were at the funeral. Claire's dead. I know that. But looking at this girl."
"Can I see her?" Lennie wasn't sure what his reaction would be, but. . . "I mean, maybe I can spot a difference that you might have missed?"
"Sure. They should be up on the M.E.'s floor. Let's go. Maybe I am just imagining things."
"I didn't mean that. I just. . ."
"Lennie? It's ok. Come on. We'll go see how they're doing."
They went to the elevators and up to the floor occupied by the Medical Examiner's office. Anita asked the receptionist where the Boston team had gone and was directed down the hall to the autopsy room where the girl's body was. They got to the door and Lennie peered in the window. Anita had made sure that there were sets of scrubs available for them, not knowing if they'd bring their own. But she'd assumed from the name that Jordan was a guy and as a result, her scrubs were way too big. She'd made do, rolling the waist up and tying it with string. But even in the baggy scrubs, there was no mistaking who she looked like. Lennie saw it instantly too.
"Holy mother of God! If I hadn't been there when. . ."
"So you see it too?"
"How could I not? Good lord she. . ."
Nigel had looked up and noticed the two standing at the door. He got Jordan's attention and she looked up and towards the door. When she saw Anita and someone else standing there, she motioned them in. Lennie took a deep breath and opened the door.
"Detective Lennie Briscoe, this is Dr. Nigel Townsend and Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh from the Massachusetts Medical Examiner's office. Lennie was the lead detective on our case here. Jordan and Nigel worked on the Michaelson girl's body in Boston."
"Nice to meet you, mate." Nigel held out his hand, but noticed that Detective Briscoe was too lost in looking at Jordan to really notice him. This was freaky enough for him. He couldn't even imagine what all this must be doing to Jordan. He overheard the conversation she'd had on the phone with Garret once they got to Police Plaza. . .
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"Garret? We're here. ~ No, we're not checked into the hotel yet. We came straight to Police Plaza to get a look at the girl. ~ No, I wanted to call you and let you know we got here alright. ~ What? What do you mean I sound weird? ~ Well, yeah. Something kinda freaky's going on. ~ Lieutenant VanBuren picked us up at the station. But she got all weird when she saw me. She said I look just like some chick who worked in the D.A.'s office here who was killed in a car accident in 96. It made me feel really weird. ~ No, no. Don't worry. I won't let it affect how I do my job here. ~ Do you want to talk to Nigel? ~ Ok. Hang on."
She handed the phone to Nigel.
"Hi Garret?"
"Hi Nige. The train was good?"
"Yeah. It was fine."
"Are things as weird as Jordan's feeling?"
"I think so. . ."
"Keep it short Nige. I don't want Jordan getting any more paranoid than this could make her."
"Right."
"Ok. Keep eye on her. And see if you can find out anything about this person she looks so much like."
"Ok. Will do."
"I mean, I've known Jordan since before 96, so I know she couldn't be this person. But it would just be. . ."
"Right. I know." He lowered his voice and prayed that she wouldn't overhear him. "It's just really freaky the way they're looking at her like she's a ghost." Jordan motioned to finish up, that they seemed to be ready for us to look at the body. "Garret, I've gotta go. They're ready for us."
"Alright. Keep me posted. Both of you."
"Yes, sir. See you soon."
He handed the phone back to Jordan and they moved into the autopsy room.
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Nigel made up his mind to do a computer search on this Claire person as soon as they got a free minute.
Jordan turned to Lennie. "Nice to meet you."
"Is this telling you anything?"
"Not yet. We're just going over the trace and the files now. Tomorrow I think I'd like to go over the autopsy. Maybe do some stuff on my own. If that's ok."
"Hey, whatever you can give us to get this animal. Does it look similar to your case?"
"There are definite similarities. But I can't be sure yet."
"Alright." Lennie had not taken his eyes off Jordan the whole time. Nigel could tell she was trying to ignore it and keep going with her work. But he saw that she was getting more and more frustrated by this whole "you look just like Claire" thing.
"Say, I'm a bit hungry, and I'm not sure how much more we can do tonight until some of my test results come back. Is there somewhere we could go and eat?"
"Sure. I'm finished for the day. Lieutenant, how about I take them to eat and get them checked into their hotel?" It would give him a chance to talk with this woman and find out more about her. He watched them roll Claire's lifeless body to the hospital morgue. He knew she was dead. But. . .
"Sounds good Lennie." Anita could almost read his mind. She knew what he was thinking and knew that he would get the information he needed.
"Alright. Give me about 15 minutes to get cleaned up and changed and I'll meet you. . .?" Jordan moved towards the door, trying not to trip over the way-too-large scrubs. "Can we stop off somewhere and let me pick up a smaller set of scrubs? I didn't bring any and. . ."
"Honey, I'll take care of it and have some in the morning." Anita was trying not to laugh. "I'm sorry about that. We just assumed from the name. . ."
"Hey, it's ok. Smalls?"
"Not a problem."
"Can you find your way downstairs? I need to put the finishing touches on my paperwork and then I'm all yours." Lennie seemed to be relaxed and excited about this chance to play host.
"Sure. We'll see you in a few minutes."
Jordan and Nigel got cleaned up and met Lennie downstairs. He took them to dinner at a small cafe in the West Village. Jordan had never been one to talk a lot about herself, especially with strangers, but she said enough to convince Lennie that she was not Claire. Nigel listened intently to the conversation, trying to learn more about this person Jordan so resembled.
"So you've lived in Boston your whole life?"
"Yep. Well, brief stints in Chicago, Atlanta, Denver and Los Angeles in the late 90's. My dad was a cop ~ a detective. Now he owns a bar."
"And you're a Medical Examiner."
"Yeah. I was going to be a heart surgeon, but then I figured out that this ~ speaking for the dead, so to speak ~ was what I was supposed to do. Well, with some help from some friends." She kicked Nigel gently under the table, and he looked at her across the table and smiled.
"That's great. Just great."
"Will you excuse me for a minute, please? I need to use the restroom." Jordan excused herself from the table and headed towards the back of the restrurant.
Nigel and Lennie watched her walk away. By this point, he was convinced that Jordan really was Jordan. Not only did dates tie her to Boston when Claire would have been in New York, he'd looked closely at her forehead. There was no scar where he knew Claire's head had been stitched up. He didn't care how good plastic surgeons were, there was no way they could have completely hidden that scar. And he knew that Anita would come around too. There was no denying how much Jordan looked like Claire, but they were definitely two different people. He believed it. Anita would believe it. But what about. . .
"Detective Briscoe? What are you doing on this side of town?"
"Oh shit!" Lennie thought as he turned his head. "McCoy! How are you doing?"
"Working too hard as always. Who's your friend?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. This is Nigel. . ." Lennie realized that giving Jack a last name might cause problems, especially for Jordan just in case they couldn't get her out without Jack seeing her. Just in case. "He's from the Massachusetts Medical Examiner's Office. They're trying to tie the guy we're holding for my case to the Michaelson case in Boston."
"They?"
"Oh. His co-worker went. . ." Lennie looked at Nigel, hoping that he'd figure something out.
"You know, she wasn't feeling well. I think I'll go and see if I can convince the hostess to go and check on her." Nigel wasn't sure what Briscoe was trying to tell him, but he got the distinct impression that the detective did not want Jordan returning to the table.
"That sounds like a good idea. I'll pay the bill and meet you at the car. We can get you all checked in and she can get some rest." Lennie prayed that this would work. He and Anita needed to figure out how to keep Jack from seeing or working with Jordan. They both knew he'd been overworking lately, and in his exhausted state would he listen to reason if he saw someone who looked so much like Claire? "Counselor? I'll see you later?"
"Of course. Enjoy your evening." Jack wasn't stupid. He knew that Lennie was trying to get rid of him. But why? Oh well, he'd talk to Lennie later.
Lennie met Nigel and a very confused Jordan outside the cafe and they began to move towards his car. Nigel broke the ice first.
"Do you want to tell me what that was all about?"
"McCoy? I. . . I just needed to get Dr. Cavanaugh out of there."
"Why? Was he like sleeping with this person I look like?"
"In a manner of speaking. . ."
"Lovely." Jordan rolled her eyes at Nigel.
The trio froze as they heard footsteps behind them. The footsteps stopped short and Lennie heard Jack's voice.
"Oh God! Claire? Claire? What. . .?"
"You two get in the car. I'll take care of things." Lennie clicked the remote to unlock the car doors and pushed Jordan in that direction. Nigel took the hint and got behind her. Lennie turned back towards Jack. "She's not Claire, Jack. Her name's Jordan Cavanaugh. She's a medical examiner in Boston."
"No. You're wrong. It can't be. . . You were there when they. . . Were you part of her plan?"
"What plan Jack? I was there. I was in the damn car with her. I was there when they moved her body to the morgue. I was at the wake. Jack, Claire's dead. That is not Claire."
"But. . .she looks. . ."
"Look. They've had a long day. Let me take them to the hotel and get them checked in. Why don't we meet at that Starbucks over there and we can talk about it. Say thirty minutes?" He wasn't sure if Jack would bite, but Lennie knew he needed to get Jordan out of there. Jack had been working way too hard, and the exhaustion was showing on his face. There was no telling what he'd do. God, this was exactly what he and Anita had not wanted to happen.
"Fine. I'll meet you there. I can't believe it. . ."
"See you in a half hour, Jack. And she's NOT Claire."
Lennie took them to the hotel to get them checked in. The clerk at the desk tried his best to be helpful.
"Yes, sir. Your lieutenant called a while ago. Seems there had been a mix-up and you needed a second room? Something about. . ."
"My name again."
"You know what, if it's alright with Jordan, one room is fine. Well, one room with two beds." Nigel hoped Jordan would understand what he meant by that. But the look on her face when she turned around said otherwise. He excused them and pulled her off to the side. "Jordan, I don't know exactly what's going on, but that guy back there didn't seem too stable. I guess he and. . ."
"My doppelganger?"
"Yeah. I'm guessing they were more than co-workers. And he didn't seem like the most stable person back there. I think Garret. . .hell Jordan, I'd feel better if I could keep an eye on you. I promise you. No funny stuff."
"Good. It would be too weird." Jordan looked at Nigel while she thought about it. She didn't need anyone to take care of her. Still, this whole thing with everyone thinking she looked like someone who'd been dead since 96 was creeping her out. Of all the people in the office, she guessed she could trust Nigel. "Alright. Fine. But not one toe comes onto my bed."
"Of course." They moved back towards the counter. "We'll take the one room with two beds, please."
"Yes, sir. Now, these are your keys. This is your room number, right here. You'll want to take the elevator around that corner."
"Thanks mate." Nigel and Jordan followed Lennie back to the car to gather their things.
"You'll be alright?"
"Yeah. Thanks Detective." Jordan was finally showing some of the exhaustion of the day.
"My pleasure, Jordan. And you can call me Lennie."
"Alright. So we'll see you in the morning?"
"Yeah. Do you need someone to pick you up or. . .?"
"We'll take a cab. Thanks though."
Lennie got in his car and pulled off, on his way to meet Jack and try to convince him that this woman was not Claire. Not an easy task by any stretch of the imagination.
Jordan and Nigel went into the lobby and over to the elevator. They got on and punched 6. As the doors closed, Jordan leaned her head wearily on Nigel's shoulder.
"You alright, luv?"
"Yeah Nige. It's just this case, Lauren's case. . . I can't believe someone can do that to anyone. Well, I'm not stupid. I know it happens. It's just. . ."
"Is that it?"
"Yeah. Well, and this being constantly mistaken for someone who they obviously all cared a lot about and who's dead. That takes a lot out of you, ya know." As the doors opened, Nigel prodded Jordan out of the elevator and down the hall towards their room.
"I can only imagine, luv. I can only imagine." Jordan dropped her bag on the floor and flopped onto one of the beds. "So I'm assuming that's yours?"
"Yeah, it'll do. Hey Nige? I think I'm gonna soak in a hot bath for a little while. Try to unwind. Is that ok?"
"Not a problem. I'll call Garret with the phone number here. And there's something I need to work on."
"Let me guess. You're going to try to find out more about this Claire Kincaid chick?"
"Well. . ."
"Come on, Nige. She was here in the early and mid-90's. We were working together in Boston then. There's no way I could be her. Even if she did fake her own death."
"I just think it would be interesting to learn a little more about her."
"Yeah, right. Garret told you to."
"Guilty as charged. Jordan, he's just trying to look out for you. We all are."
"Damn it, Nige! I don't need. . ." Jordan took a deep breath. She was too tired to fight. "Alright. I'm going to go run that bath. Let me know if you find anything interesting."
"Will do."
Jordan went into the bathroom and let the hot water run into the tub. She looked over the goodies on the counter just to see what was there. Not bad. Bath & Bodyworks stuff. Vanilla. Not bad. Not too girly. She didn't usually get frilly, but every once in a while. Yes! Bubble bath. "What the hell?" she thought. "It's not like my loft has a bathtub. And after today, I could use a nice bubble bath."
At the same time, Nigel was beginning his investigation on Claire Kincaid. Quite an interesting woman. When the picture popped up, he saw what everyone was talking about. Shorten Jordan's hair to a bob and put her in a business suit and even Max probably couldn't tell them apart. At least from looking. "Alrighty. Let's see what the dossier has on her," Nigel said to himself. "Hmm. Harvard Law. Well, she was obviously smart. Clerked for one of the leading jurists in the city when she first graduated. Worked in the D.A.'s office after that until her death. Got a couple of convictions or settlements in cases she tried on her own. Killed when her car was hit by a drunk driver late one night." Not a lot of personal information. Oh well, perhaps he could get some time to talk with Briscoe of VanBuren and find out a little more about Claire. He jumped as Jordan's cell phone rang. "Jordan? Your phone's ringing. Should I. . .?"
"Yeah, would you grab it? Thanks."
"Dr. Cavanaugh's phone."
"Nigel? Is that you?"
"Woodrow! Great to hear from you. Where are you?"
"I'm at the Pogue. Where's Jordan?"
"In the bath."
"What?!?!?"
"My dear Woodrow. Calm down. It's not what you're thinking."
"You're answering Jordan's cell phone while she's taking a bath? How else am I supposed to. . ."
"Woody. Relax. Garret sent us to New York. They've got a case that's eerily similar to the Lauren Michaelson case. And a suspect. If we can tie them to the same guy. . ."
"That would solve Lauren's murder."
"Exactly."
"But that still doesn't explain. . ."
"They're putting us up in a hotel. There was a mix up and they assumed from her name that Jordan was a guy."
"And there were no other rooms available?"
"No, there were. But things are a little complicated here."
"What?"
"It seems our dear girl bears a striking resemblance to an A.D.A. who worked here until she was killed by a drunk driver in 96. And it's sort of freaking her out."
"Do I need to come down there?"
"Woody? I don't mean to sound rude, but what would you do? And anyway, most of them are convinced that Jordan's not Claire ~ that was her name."
"Most?" Woody's voice was beginning to get panicky.
"There's one guy this chick worked with. And probably more. He's an E.A.D.A. here. We ran into him over dinner and he wasn't too keen on believing Detective Briscoe or us. Jordan and I just decided that it was better this way. And we've got two beds."
"That's good. And you'd better use two beds. One for each of you." The voice on the other end had changed.
"Max. Good to talk with you."
"Garret said he'd sent you to New York. Making progress?"
"Some. Max. . ."
"I trust you Nigel. Just take care of Jordan."
"I will. I will." Before hanging up, Nigel gave Max the hotel's number. Any others he might need would be easy enough to find.
"Thanks, Nigel. I'll pass the info along to Garret. He's sitting here too. Unless you need to talk with him?"
"No, not right now. Should I have Jordan call you?"
"If she wants to. Sounds like a good night's sleep is what she needs."
"Alright. Talk to you later Max. Bye." Nigel clicked the phone shut. "Jordan, Garret and your dad are all up to date on things." Alright, leaving Woody out was cruel he knew, but he'd tell her eventually. . .
"Thanks, Nige." Jordan let herself sink back into the bubbles as she closed her eyes and tried to relax.
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Meanwhile at Starbucks. . .
"Good. You waited."
"What else was I going to do. So Detective. You gonna tell me where she is?"
"Jack, she's not Claire. I was with you when. . ."
"But she looks. . ."
"Her name's Jordan Cavanaugh. Jordan's from Boston. She was in med school, in a residency program, and working in the M.E.'s office while Claire was here. There's no way she could be Claire."
"She could have concocted all that. Claire was smart enough to get all that changed."
"All those records?"
"Well. . ."
"And Jack, this girl doesn't have a scar."
"You ever heard of plastic surgery, Lennie?"
"Jack, I was in the car. I saw the cut. I don't care how good the surgeon is, there would still have been a scar from that cut."
"Lennie, I just. . . I've missed her so much."
"I know. Well, I don't know, know. But I know what it is to miss someone you love. And what it is to want to believe. But she's Jordan Cavanaugh. She is not Claire. Jack, Claire's dead."
"Are you going to tell me where she's staying or not?"
"No! Jordan and Nigel have had a long enough day with the train ride and the preliminary examination. Not to mention Jordan spending the day explaining who she is. They deserve to have a night to sleep."
"And that's what I don't get. I just don't see Claire with someone like him. Not her type at all."
"Jack, she's not Claire. She's Jordan. And not everyone sleeps with their coworkers." It was harsh, Lennie knew, but maybe it would shock Jack into realizing the obvious.
"I'm going to leave before I do something we'd both regret. I'm not sure the Bar would look too highly on an E.A.D.A. accused of assaulting an officer. Maybe in the morning you'll be ready to tell me where she is." Jack McCoy stormed out of the coffee shop.
Lennie sat there. All the evidence and Jack still wouldn't believe him. They were registered in the hotel under Nigel's name, so it would be nearly impossible for Jack to find them that way. But he wasn't so confident about the next day at the station and the morgue. He opened his cell phone and hoped Anita was still at work.
"Yes, this is Detective Briscoe. Is Lieutenant VanBuren still there? Yes, that would be great."
"VanBuren."
"It's Lennie."
"They all checked in?"
"Yes, but we've got a bit of a problem."
"What?"
"Guess who we ran into at dinner?"
"Not McCoy."
"McCoy."
"My God. What did he say?"
"Well, Jordan was in the bathroom when he came up. Nigel went to intercept her and take her to the car. I thought we got rid of him, but he followed us to the car."
"Damn."
"He started to go a little nuts. I managed to get them out of there and checked into the hotel. Given everything going on, they opted to keep one room with two beds. But it's under Townsend's name. Something Jack never learned. They should be ok there."
"Good."
"But it's tomorrow I'm worried about. How likely is it that we could keep an E.A.D.A. out of here?"
"The station itself, we can't. However, we could keep him away from the morgue on grounds that his presence could skew the investigation."
"Really?"
"I'll take care of it. Get some rest and I'll see you in the morning."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back at the hotel. . .
Jordan finished getting ready for bed and went out of the bathroom. She turned down her sheets, crawled in and curled up facing the wall. Her head was still spinning with everything. The case was enough to give anyone nightmares. And then this whole Claire thing. It was really giving her the creeps.
Nigel came out of the bathroom and got into his own bed. He looked over at Jordan's back. "You alright, luv?"
"No. But I'll be ok. I think."
"I told you your dad and Garret send their love?"
"Yeah, thanks Nige."
"Oh, and Woody too?"
Jordan flipped over to face Nigel. "You didn't say you talked with Woody!"
"Gotcha!"
"What?"
"You don't twitch when I mention Max or Garret, but the second I mention a certain detective. . ."
"Nigel, if any of this leaves this room and turns up in an office pool or anywhere else. . ."
"Alright, luv. Your secret crush is safe with me."
"I don't know why I even bother." Jordan rolled her eyes and flipped over to face the wall again. "Say, Nige?"
"Yeah?"
"You don't think that Jack guy can find us do you?"
"The room's in my name, which I don't think he ever got, so yeah. I think you're safe."
"Ok." Were Nigel's ears playing tricks on him, or had Jordan's voice become tiny, muffled in the covers?
"Jordan? I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. I know how you feel about being protected and all, but. . ."
"It's ok, Nige. Thanks." Jordan turned her face towards him. Thankfully there were no tears there, because Nigel didn't know what he would have done if she'd been crying. "See you in the morning."
"Good night, luv." Nigel reached over and turned out the light after ensuring that the alarm clock was set for the correct time. "Sleep well."
Early the next morning Nigel woke up and immediately sensed that he was alone.
"Jordan?"
No answer.
"Great. Just great." He muttered to himself as he got up to take care of that usual early morning business. He went out and reached for his cell phone. Maybe by some chance she'd taken it with her. As he was preparing to dial, his phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Nige, I think I've found something."
"What? Jordan where the hell are you?"
"At the morgue. I woke up and had an idea."
"An idea or a nightmare?"
"An idea Nige. I. . .I couldn't sleep after that. How soon can you get down here?"
"I'll throw my clothes on and be down there as soon as I can get a cab."
"Ok. Hurry!"
What could she possibly have found? He didn't think any of his tests would be back yet. And even if they were, was there anyone to give them to her down there at this hour? What time was it anyway? "Three a.m. Jordan? Good lord don't you ever sleep?" Nigel muttered to himself as he threw on some clothes. This was just about too much. . .
Still he promised her he'd be there. Might as well go down to police plaza and see what she'd found. Amazingly, there were some cabs sitting out in front of the hotel and in no time he was walking through the doors at the station. He flashed his ID to the desk clerk and headed up to the morgue. Jordan met him at the elevators.
"Come on, come on." She was as bad as a kid on Christmas morning.
"Jordan, don't you ever sleep?"
"Not when a case is on my mind and under my skin like Lauren's is. . .and now this one."
"Alright. Give me a minute to get changed. Is there any coffee?"
"I'll go make some. They've got the same coffee maker we do!"
"Hallelujah." He changed and entered the autopsy room with a large cup of coffee in his hand. "Ok, Jordan. What is so fascinating that you woke me up. . ."
"Um, you answered as soon as the phone rang, so I'm guessing you were already awake."
"Yes, you caught me. I was getting ready to call your phone and see where you were. Waking up and not seeing you in the room. . . Jordan, I was worried about you."
"I can take care of myself. But thanks for worrying."
"What did you find, Jordan?"
"Oh. Yeah. The locket."
"What?"
"The locket Lauren had around her neck. Her parents didn't know anything about it, but they figured it was a gift. She was in college and they didn't know all her friends."
"Right. I remember. But we didn't think that it had anything to do with the case."
"We didn't open it."
"What? Jordan, I know it's early, but I'm a little lost here. What does Lauren's locket have to do with this case?"
"I started going over the similarities, besides the obvious. College-age girl. All the physical stuff the creep did to her ~ the rape, the strangulation, the. . ."
"Yeah. I know all about that. The DNA match-up between here and Boston should be in when the others come in at a normal office time."
"But Nige, we were only looking at the bodies. Not what was on them ~ or in them."
"Yes, well, as you've said, we know Lauren had a locket around her neck ~ well, buried into it. But I fail to see what that has to do with. . ." He stopped speaking as Jordan raised her hand before his eyes. It held a locket that appeared identical to the one they'd found on Lauren. "Sweet Nancy."
Jordan opened up the locket to reveal a picture of Lauren Michaelson.
"And I found it in exactly the same location as the one on Lauren. I pulled up the picture of that one on your laptop." Jordan motioned towards the table where Nigel had set up shop the evening before. He wandered over and looked at it.
"What are the odds of getting the one from Boston, Jordan?"
"Well, I don't think the police released her personal effects yet, given that we've. . .they've never caught anyone. I'll call Woody in a little while and see if he can get it. We really don't need it here if he'll open it and. . ."
"And I can try out this new camera phone?"
"But of course."
"Good plan to let Woody sleep."
"Hey, if you want to go back to the hotel. . ."
"No, no. I'm already up. I think I'll just wander down the hall and see if anyone on their graveyard shift knows if we could get DNA results yet."
He wandered down the hall and soon returned.
"No one awake?"
"No one who understands how to work the computer stuff. Honestly, I expected more in New York."
"Aw, come on Nige. Even you're not at the morgue 24-7. When you're not there, we're. . ."
"I know, I know."
"What time is it anyway?"
"Um, it's about 5 a.m. now. Why?"
"I'm going to make a phone call."
"Jordan. . ."
"Oh come on. We can't do anything else until we get the results and/or the locket."
"Ok, but please tell Woodrow this was not my idea."
"Fine."
Jordan opened her cell phone and pushed 2 for a few seconds.
"He's on speed dial?"
"Shut up!" Jordan waited. Where the heck was he at this hour of the. . .?
"Hello?" Woody's muffled, just-woken-up voice greeted her.
"Woody! Hi!"
"Jordan?" He blinked and reached for the clock, then groaned as he flopped back on his pillows.
"Yeah. What's up?"
"Jordan, do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Um, yeah. It's 5 a.m."
"And you're calling me why?"
"I need you to open the locket."
"The what?"
"The locket we found in Lauren's neck. Do you think you could go to the morgue and get it and like. . .?"
"Now?"
"Well. . ."
"Fine. You've got a camera phone, right?"
"Yeah. Well, Nige does."
"Good. I'll get it and call you back. Give me an hour or so."
Jordan clicked her phone shut and looked at Nigel.
"So he's on board?"
"Yeah. He's going to go down to the station and call and we'll try to get the camera phone thing working. He'll call back later when he's set up."
"Alright. Well, there's nothing else we can do until someone else gets here. Jordan, can we go and get some breakfast or something?"
"Sure. I saw a Starbucks a couple of blocks over. . ."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"And I'm in the mood for one of their cinnamon chip scones. Let's go."
They left the building and walked a couple of blocks. Coffee and scones bought, they settled into a couple of fluffy chairs in a corner.
"You know Jordan, perhaps the DNA will tell us all we need to know."
"Maybe. We'll see."
"Yeah. You know, I've been thinking about that Jack guy."
"Yeah?"
"We could always print you."
"What?"
"Do your fingerprints. And run them against that Claire person's. I mean, she was a government employee so her prints should be on file. Maybe he'll believe that."
"I don't know. From what Lennie and Anita said, the proof's been pretty conclusive that she's dead and he's still convinced that I'm her."
"So what harm will it do to print you? Unless. . ."
"Nige! I was in Boston when she was here. I am not her."
"So. . ."
"It just makes me mad that. . . Never mind. Let's do it."
"Now?"
"Well, it is almost 7. Maybe someone's getting to the precinct already. And Woody should be calling soon."
"Fine. Let's go." Nigel threw their trash away and held the door open. Instinctively he stuck close to Jordan, still feeling edgy about the E.A.D.A. who didn't seem to want to believe that Jordan was not his late lover.
They met Lennie entering the building.
"Detective? Are you always up this early?"
"Most of the time. I went by the hotel and there was no answer at your room. I hoped that I'd find you here."
"Yeah. So, how'd your conversation with the lawyer go last night?" Nigel had overheard Lennie agreeing to meet Jack later.
"Alright. I still don't think he's convinced. I know it sounds crazy, but. . ."
"No, it doesn't sound crazy." Jordan was looking at the two men in front of her.
"What?" Lennie and Nigel were incredulous.
"I just mean, I know what it is to want to believe that someone's alive even when you've seen them laying dead in front of you. That's all." Jordan turned away and took a deep breath.
"Oh Jordan, of course you do. I'm sorry." Nigel moved to put his arms around her. Lennie looked perplexed, so Nige started to explain, "Her. . ."
"My mother was killed when I was 10."
"I'm so sorry." Lennie truly did feel bad for the young woman standing in front of him. "I did have an idea, though. About Jack. . ."
"Fingerprints?" Nigel wanted to do anything to break the tense moment.
"Yeah."
"We'd just thought of that. Can we do it?"
"Yeah. Come on."
The trio trooped down the hall. As they were getting Jordan's prints, she couldn't help but laugh.
"Boy, this seems familiar."
"What?"
"Never mind, Nige. Never mind. Long story."
Lennie laughed at the ease these two had with each other. Nothing romantic at all, but they obviously cared a lot about each other. It took less than a minute for the results to pop up. "There we go. Not a match."
"I told you." Jordan rolled her eyes.
"Good. Well, I think I see some lights on in the room where I need to be for the DNA test results. I'll catch up with you later, luv. Detective."
"Yeah. I know. Hopefully Jack will accept these. So have you come up with anything?" Lennie was curious to know what these two were finding.
"Actually, I think so. No one found the locket in her neck." Jordan was leading the way down the hall to autopsy.
"Locket? Do you mean around her neck?"
"No, I mean in her neck. Buried in the tissue around the wound. Lauren had one too."
"And?"
"And I'm 99% sure that they're the same. They look it by the picture, but. . ."
"I'm assuming that the other one is in Boston?"
"Yeah, but the investigating detective is going to get it now. We're going to try to use these new camera phones and see what we can find out."
"Actually, that won't be necessary." Nigel strolled back into the room.
"What?"
"Well, they will add to the D.A.'s case, but the DNA matched conclusively. Your suspect killed our girl in Boston."
"Now all we need to do is find out who she is." Jordan was relieved that Lauren's case was solved, but still. "No one's reported anyone missing?"
"Not that we've connected Jane Doe to so far. We got something about two college girls on an internship that haven't checked in for a while. Probably went on a road trip."
"Some college girls?" Jordan's mind was reeling with the facts they knew about Lauren Michaelson. Twenty, college student. In Boston on an internship from. . . "Mount Holyoke?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Lennie? Were there any clothes, anything found on her to identify a school, a college she might have been attending?"
"Not that I recall, but. . . Why?"
"Lauren was on an internship from Mount Holyoke. Maybe this girl was too. Do you think that. . .?"
"I'll call their student affairs office and leave a message. Maybe they can tell us something about her." This girl really was good. "Um, your pocket's ringing over there."
"Jeeze, thanks. Hello?"
"Jordan, I've got it. What do you need me to. . .?"
"It's ok, Woody. The DNA matched. The lockets are just going to be icing on the cake."
"What?"
"They've got the guy here in New York. We'll meet with the D.A. here later today, but I'm pretty sure he'll be extradited this afternoon, tomorrow morning at the latest. They're gonna let me check the locket from her out to compare, but we've got him. Lauren's murder is solved!"
"That's great!"
"Just for curiosity's sake. . . Woody, can you open the locket?"
"Yeah. Pretty girl in here. Want me to email it?"
"Yeah."
"Alright, one second." Jordan heard her phone beep and looked at the picture. It was the girl on the table in front of her.
"Thanks Wood. That's what I thought."
"What?"
"It matches."
"What?"
"Lauren's picture is in this locket and my girl's picture is in Lauren's. They're definitely connected."
"Oh. So when are you coming home?" Was it Jordan, or did Woody sound a little lonely?
"Probably tomorrow or the next day. So I'll see you then?"
"Yeah. Sure."
"Bye, Woody."
In the meantime, Lennie went to report their findings to Anita and call student affairs at Mount Holyoke. He was surprised no one had reported a girl missing. He was even more surprised when someone answered the phone.
"Yes, this is Detective Briscoe from the NYPD. Um, is there a Dean of Students or someone I can speak with?"
"Certainly, one moment."
He heard shuffling and a rushing to the phone.
"Detective? How can I help you?"
"I'm working with some medical examiners from Boston. You know about. . ."
"Lauren? Oh God, yes. One moment. Let me put Lauren's mother on the phone." The voice changed. "Detective? Has anyone found Simone?"
"And you are?"
"I'm Lauren's mother. Simone's aunt. Have you found her?"
"Simone?"
"Yes. Simone Michaelson. She and Lauren were closer than sisters. They were both doing a law internship in Boston. Lauren called, scared out of her mind. The next phone call we had was from the Boston police. Lauren had been murdered but Simone was nowhere to be found."
"Do Simone's parents know about this?"
"Simone doesn't have parents anymore. Her parents were killed in a fire when she was seven. She came to live with us after. . ."
"We have a girl here who we think might be Simone. We didn't know her name until now."
"Oh my God. She's not. . ."
"I'm sorry."
"Oh God."
"Ma'am, if we email you a picture, could you make a tentative ID?"
"Yes. One moment." The first voice Lennie spoke with gave him the email address and he sent the picture. In less than a minute, he heard a scream, then Lauren's mother's voice came back on the phone. "That's her. That's Simone."
"Thank you. We will need you to make an ID in person, but. . ."
"Yes, yes of course."
"You should know, we do have someone in custody. He'll most likely be extradited to Boston today. The D.A. agreed to give Boston first crack at him."
"Thank you, detective Briscoe."
"I'm so sorry for your loss, ma'am."
Lennie hung up the phone and looked sadly at Anita. "So we have an ID now?"
"Yes. And according to Jordan and Nigel, we can conclusively tie the cases to Johnson. All we have to do is tell the D.A."
"Tell the D.A. what, Detective?" Jack's voice sounded behind them.
"We've tied the murders together. I figured you'd do the extradition this afternoon?"
"I'll be on the phone with D.A. Walcott in Boston and work out the details. Are the two. . ." He might be starting to have doubts, but Jack wanted to see the girl who looked so much like Claire at least one more time.
"Jack, come over here and look at something."
"What?"
"We ran Jordan's prints this morning. Look. They don't match."
"Well, she could have had them surgically altered." Lennie and Anita were looking at him like he was going crazy. Maybe he was. Best to go along with them, at least for now. "You're right. She couldn't be. I just. . ."
"I know, Jack. It's not been easy for you since. . ."
"I'm going to go make that phone call. Tell the Boston team that they can get ready to go home and firm up the case there."
He made the phone call to Renee Walcott. They decided that it would be better to have the presence of the other state, if only in the spectators' area of the courtroom, so Jack agreed to travel to Boston. At 4:00 p.m., he met Anita, Jordan and Nigel at Penn Station.
"What are you doing here?" Nigel tried unsuccessfully to mask the disdain in his voice.
"Walcott and I decided that my presence would help to solidify the case in Boston just as hers will do the same here."
"Great." Jordan rolled her eyes and took off towards the platform. "Lieutenant VanBuren, thank you for all your help."
"It was my pleasure." Anita reached out and put a hand on Jordan's arm. "Maybe we can work together again someday."
"Yeah. Maybe."
Jordan and Nigel got on the train followed closely by Jack. "Great," Jordan thought. "It's gonna be a LONG ride home."
The train ride was pretty uneventful. Jordan stared out the window and willed Jack to leave her alone. Nigel chased several pretty young things to the refreshment car and back. Jack, who elected to travel coach in order to stay close to this person who looked so much like Claire but insisted she wasn't, spent the entire train ride staring at Jordan.
As they pulled into the station, Jordan felt her heart leap to see Woody standing there to meet them. The fact struck her as slightly strange. Yes, the fact that he was there provided an easy way to avoid Jack, but for some reason the feelings surging through her weren't just those of relief. She was actually happy to see him. She was so lost in this realization she jumped when Nigel put his hand on her shoulder.
"Oh look. Woodrow came to pick us up. I assume we're going to be escorted straight to the station."
"Or the District Attorney's office. I'd assume that's where we'll be going first," Jack said. He craned his neck over the crowd exiting the train to see who had Jordan so enthralled. When he caught sight of Woody he almost choked. This was. . .?
"Woody! It is so glad to see you!" Jordan ran to Woody and threw her arms around him. Nigel laughed at Jordan's sudden enthusiasm and Woody's puzzled expression.
"Um, Jordan? Are you feeling alright?" Woody pulled back and raised his hand to feel her forehead.
"Yeah, why?"
"Nothing, nothing. I'm happy to see you too." Woody shook his head. He wasn't sure what came over Jordan while she was in New York, but he thought he could get used to it. "Nigel, good to see you. Good trip?"
"It wasn't bad." Nigel shook Woody's extended hand.
"And you must be. . ." Woody turned to the man standing with them.
"Jack McCoy. Executive Assistant District Attorney in New York." Jack extended his hand, which Woody took tentatively. So this was the person who had been giving Jordan the creeps during her time in New York. "Are you going to take us to the police station?"
"Walcott wants you to go straight to her office. Garret's already sent the files on Lauren over to her. She just needs the new proof you have."
"Alright. Let's go." Jordan grabbed Woody's hand. She felt kind of bad about this sudden display of affection, but it was for her own good. And besides, she wasn't all that sure that she was just acting.
When they got to Woody's car, Jordan hopped into the front seat. No way was she getting stuck in the back with Jack. She smiled an apology at Nigel who now had to cram his legs in a much smaller space.
"It's ok, luv. I understand," he whispered.
When they got to Walcott's office, Woody led them inside, then left to go back to work, his lackey work completed. Renee stood to greet Jack, a smile stretched across her face. Jordan thought she looked almost human and whispered as much to Nigel, who stifled a laugh. Renee shot a look in their direction, then turned back to Jack.
"Mr. McCoy. Welcome to Boston. It's great to meet you. Your reputation certainly proceeds you."
"It's my pleasure. And I hope that's a good thing." Jack mentally flinched, knowing there was more than one reputation he had.
"Oh, it is." Renee was all smiles. Until her eyes fell on Jordan. "Dr. Cavanaugh, if you'll just give me that file you can go."
"But Ms. Walcott, she is the one who cracked the case and tied them together. Without her, you wouldn't even have a case." Jack was not looking forward to losing sight of this person. Maybe everyone was right and she wasn't Claire. But spending time with someone who looked so much like her. . . It sounded weird, he knew, but he found it strangely comforting being in Jordan's presence.
"No, no. It's fine. Here. I'll just. . ." Jordan reached into her bag and produced the file, then began edging towards the door.
"Thank you Jordan. Now, don't you worry about another thing. If this comes to trial, Dr. Townsend here will certainly be able to testify." The venom in Walcott's voice was palpable to all in the room, especially Jack.
"Now wait just a minute. From what I understand, Dr. Cavanaugh has been the lead medical examiner on this case. Why would you turn the testimony over to someone else?" Jack was truly puzzled.
"Obviously you haven't don your homework on our dear Dr. Cavanaugh here. She doesn't stand up in front of juries that well. Five jobs in four years doesn't look that good in the eyes of a. . ."
"Now wait just a minute. Have you really bothered to get to know Jordan? Did it ever occur to you that at least one of those was a promotion to a higher position in another city?" Nigel decided that if Jordan wasn't going to stand up for herself, he would do it. None of them saw her edging towards the door. Jordan couldn't wait to get away from Renee's malice. . .and from this creepy EADA from New York who was convinced she was his dead lover.
"Yes, I am aware of that, Dr. Townsend. I am also aware that other than that, she was fired from her other jobs under less than ideal circumstances. I have seen her on the stand. She does nothing to help a case."
"I read her report Ms. Walcott. She is extremely competent. I don't see a problem with putting her. . ." Jack had never met anyone like this woman ~ at least not on his side of the courtroom. This venom she felt towards the young medical examiner. Well, there was one time. . .when he was prosecuting that drunk driver. . . But still.
"Fine. You put her on the stand in New York. I won't do it here. Honestly, I am hopeful that we can come to some agreement and not even have to go to trial. But if we do end up in trial, Dr. Townsend will be the medical examiner I put on the stand." Renee was insistent.
"But. . ." Nigel looked around. Jordan was nowhere to be found. "Where's Jordan?"
"I don't know and frankly I couldn't care. . ." Renee started, but Jack ran out of the office. He hadn't had the chance to talk with Jordan yet and he wasn't going to let her run off before he did.
"Dr. Cavanaugh, wait." He saw her standing at the elevator bay, frantically punching the button.
"Damn it! Why isn't one coming?" Jordan was quickly losing patience. She finally bolted for the stairwell at the sound of Jack's voice. She ran all the way down the stairs and was relieved to see that Woody had brought her Explorer around the front. A note was stuck on the windshield ~ "Thought I'd make it easier on you. See you later! ~ W." She smiled as she jumped in the driver's seat. She'd definitely have to do something special to somehow show him that in her own way, she was beginning to take the wall between them down ~ one brick at a time.
As Jordan pulled away from the curb, Jack ran out of the building. Keeping an eye on the white Explorer, he hailed a cab. As the driver pulled up, Jack jumped in. "Follow that Explorer. Please."
"Alright, hang on." The cabbie pulled away and kept an eye on the Explorer, trying not to lose it in the last afternoon traffic.
Feeling slightly like he was in a bad mob movie, Nigel came out of the building and saw Jack getting in the cab. He didn't have to think twice to figure out where Jack was going. Damn! It was times like this he wished he had a car of his own. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and said a quick prayer of thanks for the "incoming call" list, which contained Woody's cell phone number. He hit call and hoped that Woody had his phone with him.
"Hoyt."
"Woodrow, we've got a problem."
"Nigel? What's wrong?"
"Jordan slipped out of Walcott's office and. . ."
"So? She's not under arrest. She's. . ."
"And McCoy followed her."
"What?"
"He's in a cab following her to her place."
"Oh God. Damn it, I'm stuck here on a case. Can you. . .?"
"No cabs in sight, mate. I'll keep trying, but. . ."
"Alright. Let me know if you get one. I'll try to finish up here soon and I'll come and get you."
"Do you want to call in and have an officer. . .?"
"Nigel, I don't think the guy's dangerous. Yes, he's creepy. But I don't think he'll hurt Jordan. And I think she's capable of taking care of herself. Hang tight. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Meanwhile, Jordan got to her building. It took her a while to find a parking space, just enough time to let Jack's cab catch up. At the end of the block, Jack asked the cabbie to stop and let him out, providing fare and a sizable tip. He stood back, making sure to keep an eye on Jordan as she got out of her SUV. He felt somewhat like a stalker. But he didn't want to hurt her. He only wanted to talk with her.
Jordan went into her building and got into the elevator. As she turned around, she found herself face to face with Jack McCoy.
"What the hell do you want?"
"I just want to talk with you. That's all."
Jordan looked at him warily. What to do? Maybe she could convince him that she wasn't this Claire person if she talked with him. And if things got worse. . . Well, she knew where her gun was and she had Woody on speed dial.
"Please. I just want to talk with you." Jack realized the situation he was in. If she screamed or called someone. . . "I promise you. I'll leave you alone after that. If you'd rather go somewhere else. . ."
Her brush with a methylhexital-scotch combo still in her head, Jordan thought briefly about going somewhere public with this man ~ somewhere like the Pogue, where Max could keep an eye on her. Yeah. That was it. The Pogue. Max would leave her alone if she asked, but he'd still be there to keep a watchful eye on her. Not that she needed protecting, but. . .
"Alright. I know this place where we can get something to drink and talk." But how to get there. As long as she was in control. . . "Come on. I'll drive."
Shortly, Jordan pulled up to the Pogue and parked the Explorer. Yeah, this had definitely been the best option. This guy needed to be set straight, and here she’d have Max's watchful eyes on her. Definitely the right decision.
"This it?" Jack looked out the window.
"Yep. Come on. I think we need to talk about some stuff." She hopped out and shut the door. Jack followed her around the corner and into the Pogue.
"Nice place," he said as he looked around.
"Thanks! I think so too." Jordan scanned the room and found what she was looking for. "Hey, you see that table over there in the corner? Why don't you go and grab it and I'll get us some drinks. Draft alright with you?"
"Well. . . Sure. It's fine." It wasn't Jack's drink of choice, but it would do. "Do you need any money?"
"Nah. It's ok. I know the owner." Jordan again pointed Jack in the direction of the table and walked down to the bar, where Max was standing, watching her. She leaned over the bar and gave him a hug. "Hey Dad!"
"Welcome home Jordan." Max wasn't quite sure what to say. Who was this person with his daughter? "Um, sweetheart. . .?"
"Oh, the person with me?"
"Yeah."
"He's a District Attorney from New York and. . ."
"Jordan, don't you think he's a little. . .well, old for you?"
"Dad! Gross! It's SO not that. It's. . .complicated."
"Complicated how?" Max knew Jordan all too well ~ complicated was not generally a good thing.
"Apparently I look just like his former assistant who was killed in a car accident." Jordan rolled her eyes. This was really getting old.
"Alright, but. . ."
"And apparently they were more than just co-workers. And for some reason he's got in his head that she faked her death and. . ."
"Jordan. . ." Max's voice contained equal parts of warning and concern.
"But everyone else believed me. My prints don't match. Nothing fits. I think he's beginning to see it. But he followed me to my building and I decided to bring him here so we could have a chat."
"And so I could keep an eye on things. Good girl." Max was relieved. For once Jordan was showing some common sense.
"Thanks. Can I get two drafts?" Jordan looked towards the table where Jack was settling in.
"Sure baby. You want me to bring them over? Or. . .?"
"I'll take them now. Thanks Dad." Jordan collected the mugs and headed towards the table.
"Thank you." Jack looked up as Jordan approached and set the drinks on the table. She made sure to choose a chair away from Jack with a clear escape route should that become necessary.
"No problem."
"Was that the owner you were talking to?" Jack had never been really good at small talk and he wished they could start into the meat of their conversation, but he sensed that this was going to be one talk he wasn't in control of.
"Yeah. That's my dad. He's a retired cop." Might as well throw that little piece of information at him.
"I see."
"Yeah. So. . ." Jordan wasn't quite sure how to start this ball rolling. "I'm told I look like a former assistant of yours?" Stupid, she knew, but it worked.
"You do. It's really amazing. If it wasn't for the fingerprints. . . It's just so hard to believe. . ." For once, Jack found himself at a loss for words.
"She was more than your assistant, wasn't she?"
"Yes. Claire was. . . Hell, I had this reputation. I'd slept with so many of my assistants the DA didn't want to assign any females to me. It never worked out and she always ended up leaving the office. It. . . I was surprised when he agreed to let Claire be my assistant."
"Tell me about her?" Jordan was beginning to be genuinely curious. This man seemed to have such a hard shell, yet this woman obviously touched him deeply.
"She was wonderful. Beautiful, intelligent, energetic, passionate ~ she cared more about the cases we prosecuted than anyone I've ever seen. Sometimes even more than I did. She didn't take anything from anyone. . ." Jack's voice trailed off, lost in his memories.
"It sounds like she and I would have gotten along. Or killed each other one." Jordan smiled briefly at Jack, who merely looked at her. "I'm sorry. Go ahead."
"I'm not really sure how it started. We'd usually grab dinner or something after a case or a late night and one night. . . Everything changed. She wasn't just my assistant, one in a long line. Claire was special ~ different. I really could see myself settling down with her. Not that it would have been fair ~ she would be about your age now I guess. She always said the age thing didn't bother her. But there were times I felt guilty. She should have been with someone closer to her age. I really loved her."
"What happened?" Jordan was trying to be gentle, but she wanted to get to the bottom of this.
"There was an accident. . . A drunk driver. . ."
Jordan shuddered. She knew how brutal those kinds of accidents could be. She looked at Jack and nodded, encouraging him to continue.
"We'd been arguing for a while before she. . . There had been a case and she wanted to quit. I saw that the system was eating her up ~ it can do that to anyone who's idealistic and holds onto those ideal even after years of working the system. But I talked her out of it. Convinced her to stay. And then there were the days just before. . .She was adamantly anti-death penalty and I was radically for it. The night before, we'd witnessed an execution. It made her sick. We didn't say a lot to each other on the way back to the city. I gave her the day off, hoping she'd feel better later on after she'd had some rest and we'd had some time apart. I kept trying to call her, but she wouldn't answer the phone or my pages. I ended up in a bar, drunk as a skunk. One of the detectives we worked with came in and we talked for a while. He had club soda ~ recovering and all that. I got tired of waiting and left. The last thing I said about her before was 'to hell with her.'" Jack choked back a sob. "Apparently after I left, Lennie ~ the detective, the one you met in New York ~ fell off the wagon and started drinking. Claire showed up later looking for me and offered to drive him home. That's when the accident happened. Some drunk SOB in a pick-up plowed into her tiny car on the driver's side. She never had a chance."
"I'm so sorry." Jordan, in spite of being used to delivering this kind of news to grieving family, felt herself on the verge of tears at the story.
"Oh, they tried to save her at the hospital, but there were too many internal injuries. Her mother and step-father made the decision to. . .to remove her from life support. I was there, holding her hand when the machines went from a regular beat to a quicker beat to a flat line. I. . ." Jack stopped and swallowed hard. "I know that fact makes it even stranger that I would have such difficulty believing that you're not her."
"I can assure you, I'm not her. Lennie filled me in a little about what had happened when we were in the city. I was working here in the ME's office the year she was killed. I'm so sorry." There really wasn't a lot left to say.
"Thank you. Rationally I know that Claire's gone. But seeing you. . .I've been exhausted and I guess my mind just went over the edge. Either that or I've seen too many bad soap operas."
"Yeah." Jordan's voice was tender as she spoke. "But Jack?"
"Yes?"
"If she loved you that much. . . Don't you think she would have talked with you? Leaving the office wouldn't have had to mean leaving you would it?"
"No."
"Then why would she have faked her own death? She would have just told you the truth, quit the DA's office, found another job, and the two of you could have gone on like before."
"I know you're right. I just. . . I miss her so much. I've never had an assistant like her before or since ~ and in since I only mean intellectually. I haven't. . .it just hasn't felt right."
"I understand. I know about losing someone you love and wanting them back. . ." Jordan stopped. She was not going to open herself up to this person. No no. She'd learned her lesson about opening up to strangers. It hurt too much.
About that time, there was a commotion as Woody and Nigel burst through the door. They'd gone to Jordan's apartment and finding both her and the Explorer gone, they went into full panic mode. Thanks to some clear thinking by Nigel, they decided to see if she was at the Pogue.
"Jordan! Thank God you're ok!" Woody ran over to the table where Jordan and Jack were sitting. "You are ok, aren't you?"
"You don't have to worry," Jack chuckled. "I couldn't do anything to hurt her. Jordan was just setting me straight about some things about relationships and life. Sometimes reality bites. . ."
Woody looked confused. "Jordan was talking about relationships?"
"Yeah, farm boy. I do know something about them you know." Jordan got up and went down to the bar to refill her mug, leaving Woody standing there shaking his head.
"'Farm boy?'" Jack looked at Woody.
"Don't ask." Woody rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Ms. Walcott asked me to take you to your hotel and see that things are in order. Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah. I'm ready." Jack looked down towards the bar where Jordan was standing, talking with Max and Nigel. The girl had a point, after all. As intriguing as she was, there was the matter of distance. And she obviously had a thing for Detective Hoyt ~ or at the very least he had it bad for her. He sighed and wondered if this boy knew what he had.
"Jordan, I'll be back. I need to run Mr. McCoy to his hotel." Woody waved at Jordan on his way out.
"Ok. I'll see you later." Jordan turned back towards Max and rolled her eyes, a move not unnoticed by Nigel.
"You know, luv, maybe you should give him a break. . ." Nigel really did like the lad, even if he was still a bit green.
"Who, me?" Jordan winked at him. "Come on. Play pool with me?"
As she started towards the now-vacant pool table, Nigel looked at Max who chuckled and rolled his eyes as if to say, "Don't look at me!" Jordan was his daughter after all.
Several games of pool later. . .
"So Nige, what was that supposed to mean?" Jordan leaned over the pool table trying to line up a shot.
"What was what supposed to mean?" Nigel was trying to play stupid. Unfortunately Jordan saw right through it.
"'You know luv, maybe you should give him a break. . .' Seriously Nige. What's up with that?"
"Jordan, the boy's been following you around like a puppy dog for a year and a half. Don't you think he's paid his dues?"
"Nigel, I told you before. I'd chew him up and spit him out. It would never work. Besides, have you spent a lot of time with him lately?"
"I can't say that I have but. . ."
"I think the boy was on Ritalin when he was a kid and he probably needs to go back on. He's been a little hyper as of late. Difficulty sitting still, bouncing all over the place. . ."
"Jordan. Now I think you're making up excuses." Nigel looked at her across the table. "Are you sure it's not just your twisted way of masking what you feel for Woodrow?"
"I'm sure Nige. I like him, but not that way. It would never work between us. Me and cops ~ it's not a good combination outside of work."
"Oh. I see. So all those stories. . ." Woody had returned to the Pogue and come up to the table.
"All what stories?" Jordan's head snapped up and her voice grew defensive.
"Oh nothing. Just about what a heartbreaker Max Cavanaugh's daughter has always been around the precinct. Maybe there's. . ."
"Now wait just a minute. Did you bother to get details?" Jordan's voice rose in pitch and volume, enough that Max came out from around the bar to see what the problem was.
"Well, um. . ." Woody stammered. He really hadn't asked for details. Just assumed the worst when the guys assumed he and Jordan were an item. "I guess not. But Eddie and some of them made comments about. . ."
"Hoyt, those comments had more to do with me than they did with Jordan." Max made his way over to the table. "I had this thing about keeping them away from Jordan. She's had enough to deal with in her life. She didn't always listen to me. . ." he reached over and ruffled a blushing Jordan's hair, "but they meant nothing bad by it."
"Oh." Now it was Woody's turn to blush. "I'm sorry Jordan. I. . ."
"It's ok. But I really do think, for now anyway, that just friends is a good thing, a really good thing." She smiled at Woody, hoping he wouldn't be too upset.
"Yeah. I guess so. Friends isn't necessarily bad." So it wasn't what he wanted. He was willing to wait ~ forever if that's what it took. He knew he was a stupid fool, but hey. He was under her spell.
Max told them to finish their game while he closed up, and then they all went their separate ways to their houses.
Jordan. . .
As it turned out, the monster pled guilty to kidnapping, rape and murder on Lauren's case, I guess in some twisted hope for leniency. He didn't get it, really. Life without the possibility of parole. Since he pled out, that's the max he could get. I wouldn't tell if Walcott was happy or not. At least she didn't have to deal with any questions as to why she didn't put the lead ME on the case on the witness stand.
Jack stayed in town through the process, making sure that everything was tied up neatly for his case in New York. He was still deciding if he was going to take a flat out guilty plea or go for the whole trial. He really wasn't that bad, once I finally managed to convince him that I was not Claire. Not someone I'd necessarily want to cross paths with again, but at least he wasn't mad at me for apparently no reason at all like a certain DA in Boston!
About a week later, Nigel, Woody and I took him to the train station so he could get back to New York to put the finishing touches on his case. He told me he'd be in touch if it went to trial and they needed my testimony. Then he thanked Nigel and Woody for their help and hospitality. As he was leaving to get on the train, he turned to me.
"Thanks for everything, Jordan. I know you're not Claire, but. . . If you"re ever in New York and wanted to get together. . ." He was interrupted as Nigel and Woody bodily shoved him towards the train.
"Good bye Mr. McCoy." They said in unison. I just laughed. Jack waved as he went to find his seat and the boys turned back towards me.
"Come on guys. Let's go to the Pogue." I led the way out of the station and back to my Explorer.
Yeah ~ drinks and pool with friends. You know, it looks like life is getting back to normal. Whatever that is!
finito!
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