Chapter One

Two Weeks Isn't Long Enough

Two weeks….Jordan thought to herself as she threw some clothes into a suitcase, two weeks away…on a warm beach somewhere…without a care in the world…

It had been years since she had taken a vacation. Truth was, she had never really had a reason to. She hated traveling by herself, but there hadn't been anyone she wanted to really go with. At least until lately.

This past year, she would have loved to have gone somewhere with Woody…but time and circumstances being what they were…the shooting and his sudden and complete rejection of her, that wasn't likely to happen in this lifetime…or in another, she thought dejectedly as she packed her bikini.

It wasn't likely to happen because not only had Woody pushed her out of his life, barely talking to her, hardly putting up with her presence, but he had found someone else. A police psychologist. Lu. Jordan winced at the memory of the woman…slight, blonde…smart.

And helping Woody get over his injuries in ways Jordan had only hoped to do herself.

After weeks of putting up with Woody using her for his own benefit to find Riggs, or to further some really tough case…coupled with his bad temper and all the fall out she suffered from that, Jordan decided she needed to get away from the morgue for a while. To take stock of herself…find her mental and emotional footing again.

A decision that Garret had wholeheartedly endorsed. "Just come back home," he made her promise. "Don't let what Woody's trying to do to you make you want to run away. Please? Promise me you won't run, Jordan. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I promise. Just give me two weeks and I'll come back home," she told her boss.

So it was a done deal. Her vacation leave approved, Jordan had booked a ticket to St. Thomas, hoping the sun, sand, surf, and a few margaritas would help wash the memory of a certain detective away…or at least make him fade from her remembrance a little bit.

She sighed as she slammed her suitcase shut. There may not be enough alcohol in the islands to do that, she silently admitted to herself. She tugged the suitcase to the door and called a cab to take her to the airport. The sooner she left the sooner she could begin forgetting. And maybe even forgiving, too.

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"Where's Jordan?" Woody asked Bug, who was coming out of the doors of trace.

"Jordan? She's on vacation."

"Jordan's on vacation? She never takes vacation…Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure, Woody. She asked Dr. Macy for two weeks off and she flies out this morning."

"Two weeks? But we have the Thomlinson case coming up…"

Bug stopped and looked Woody over. The detective's perpetually bad attitude was driving nearly everyone crazy, but Bug was sure that Jordan was catching the brunt of his temper. She hadn't said a word, but he had noticed the worried look on her face when she caught a call from Woody…and the tension that reflected in her voice when the detective called. Gone were the days of light-hearted banter, the dating dance they used to do while everyone else looked on in amusement. Nowadays Woody was a bitter, hard, cynical man and the object of all his frustration seemed to be the brown-eyed ME, although Bug was hard pressed to identify just exactly what Jordan had done to deserve all of Woody's bad temper.

Besides finally admitting her feelings to Woody, that is.

"Woody…Jordan briefed Dr. Macy fully on the case before she left. They spent several hours going over it with Renee' Walcott yesterday. The case will be fine. She gave her signed deposition and turned over all her reports. You don't need her," Bug said. You don't need her in more ways than just the Thomlinson case, so just let her go, you bastard…

"Can we get in touch with her in case something happens and we do?"

Determined that Jordan was going to have some well-deserved time off, Bug hardened his expression and his voice. "No. Jordan's cell phone signal can't be reached in St. Thomas and we have no idea where she's staying…"

"St. Thomas?"

"Yes, St. Thomas, you twit. She hasn't taken a vacation in years and she deserves this time to rest…"

"But the case…"

"Woody," Bug said now thoroughly frustrated with the narrow-minded and ill-tempered detective, "people have a life outside of this morgue….outside of work. If you don't realize that, then maybe you need to get a life, too."

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The cab pulled up in front of the airport terminal and Jordan got out. The driver handed off her luggage and she headed to the counter to check in her luggage and wait until time to board the plane. After checking in her bags, she browsed through the kiosks and basically killed time until time to get on the plane and fly off into the wild, blue, yonder for two weeks of sun and fun.

But the three cups of coffee she had before she left her apartment began to make themselves known. Finding the ladies room, she slipped inside, thankful she had enough time to make herself comfortable before she had to board.

However, the woman inside the restroom holding her chest caught Jordan's attention. It was the classic sign of a heart attack, even if the woman, who was dressed in plain attire, was a little young to be having such a condition.

"Ma'am, are you all right?" Jordan asked. "I'm a doctor…can I help you?"

"I'm fine…I think…" she was seemingly gasping for breath.

"I don't know…let me have a look…" Jordan tried to push the woman's arms away from her chest to give a cursory exam of the woman before calling for the airport doctor. The situation and the woman's possible condition engrossed Jordan's complete attention….

And the woman was the last thing Jordan remembered. A sharp crack on her head from behind obliterated all thoughts and anything in her line of vision. "I've just been mugged," was her last conscious thought before complete and total darkness took over and her body hit the cold tile of the restroom with a thud.

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Two weeks later…

"Has Jordan come in yet?" Garret asked Lily. "She's due in first thing this morning and I need her in autopsy one."

"Not yet, Garret. I'll let you know as soon as I see her," Lily replied.

"Yeah, please do. Meanwhile, try her cell phone and her apartment phone to check and see if she overslept or something."

"Will do."

But the calls came up empty. "She's not answering," Lily told Garret a few minutes later.

"What about her flights? Are they late?"

"I'll have Nigel check…"

A few minutes later, that search had turned up fruitless, too. The plane had departed from St. Thomas on time and landed without delay.

"Where can she be?" Garret sighed, irritably. A dark, niggling fear was tickling the back of his mind. He hadn't heard from Jordan the entire time she was on vacation. And that was unusual – at least Garret thought so, anyway. Jordan was known to call in on her day off if an autopsy was pending…or if there was an open case that was giving them a fit. So for her to be gone two weeks …and not to even phone in once during that time to check on the Thomlinson case, appeared to Garret to be highly unusual. Too out of character for Jordan Cavanaugh, defender of justice…voice of the dead…. The chief ME had hoped that maybe she had finally learned to relax and let go…think of nothing but herself for two weeks.

But knowing Jordan Cavanaugh as well as he did, that seemed highly improbable.

"I hope to God she hasn't run…she promised me she wouldn't," Garret muttered to himself. "I'll give her a few more hours…"

Those hours proved fruitless, too. She didn't call or show up at the morgue. Sighing, Garret finally picked up the phone and called all of Jordan's former bosses, to see if she had been nosing around her old haunts, hoping to pick up a job.

Nothing.

Feeling nearly defeated, he picked up the phone again and called Vegas…to speak to Danny. He knew Jordan and the casino security officer had been talking…and that she had gone out to there to see him at least once on one of her off weekends. Danny hadn't heard a word from her, either. Indeed, he didn't even know Jordan had decided to take a vacation.

Now feeling more than concerned…nearly frantic…Garret punched Nigel's intercom button. "Nigel…can you find out anything else about Jordan's flight?"

"I'll check, Dr. Macy. Still no word from her yet?"

"No….just…get back to me as soon as possible…"

Nigel wasn't long getting back to Garret. Pale and worry etched across his face, he soon knocked at Dr. Macy's door. "Her tickets…she never picked up her e-tickets at the airline counter. They have no record of her ever boarding the plane."