Spoilers for 3x05: oedipus Hex
Taylor awoke early the following morning, not in her own bed, and with no clue as to where she was. “I have got to stop doing this!”
“Danny’s bed.”
“Huh?” Taylor shot upright to find Maddy and another ghost at the foot of Danny’s bed. “What the hell?”
“Taylor, two nights in a row where you haven’t woken up in your own bed? I thought I taught you better.”
Taylor glared at her. “I have no idea how I got here. And where’s Danny?”
“He’s left you a note on his chalkboard. However, you have more pressing matters,” she told her, pointing to the ghost next to her.
Taylor rubbed her eyes before switching her attention to the second ghost. She looked young, maybe nineteen at the most, and was covered in what looked like blood. She was also wearing fishnets, a black leather bra and shorts and no shoes, as well as an abundance of dark make-up.
“Get him, and tell her I loved her,” she said.
Taylor glanced at the tattoo on her chest. “Are you,” she rubbed her eyes again before squinting at the letters, “Omen?” Omen nodded before disappearing. Taylor let out a frustrated sigh before flopping back on the bed. “I swear these ghosts like making it difficult,” she muttered to the empty room.
She took a large breath and pulled herself from Danny’s bed, wishing desperately that she could stay there for a few more hours, and walked out into the living room, only to walk straight into a pool table. She stopped, rubbing her thigh, and stared around his room. He’d been redecorating since she’d last been there. The pool table was certainly a new addition to the room. She headed over to the breakfast bar, spotting the half empty bottle of vodka on the side.
“Please tell me we didn’t drink more when we got back here,” she muttered to herself as she spotted the note Maddy had mentioned.
My head feels like it’s had the brain cut out, like it’s been attacked by Sylar, only I don’t have any powers. Wish I did. Then I wouldn’t have a hangover. Got a call out. Just pull the door locked behind you. D.
“Who the hell is Sylar?” Taylor muttered, trying to read Danny’s semi-drunken scrawl.
“Danny’s bed.”
“Huh?” Taylor shot upright to find Maddy and another ghost at the foot of Danny’s bed. “What the hell?”
“Taylor, two nights in a row where you haven’t woken up in your own bed? I thought I taught you better.”
Taylor glared at her. “I have no idea how I got here. And where’s Danny?”
“He’s left you a note on his chalkboard. However, you have more pressing matters,” she told her, pointing to the ghost next to her.
Taylor rubbed her eyes before switching her attention to the second ghost. She looked young, maybe nineteen at the most, and was covered in what looked like blood. She was also wearing fishnets, a black leather bra and shorts and no shoes, as well as an abundance of dark make-up.
“Get him, and tell her I loved her,” she said.
Taylor glanced at the tattoo on her chest. “Are you,” she rubbed her eyes again before squinting at the letters, “Omen?” Omen nodded before disappearing. Taylor let out a frustrated sigh before flopping back on the bed. “I swear these ghosts like making it difficult,” she muttered to the empty room.
She took a large breath and pulled herself from Danny’s bed, wishing desperately that she could stay there for a few more hours, and walked out into the living room, only to walk straight into a pool table. She stopped, rubbing her thigh, and stared around his room. He’d been redecorating since she’d last been there. The pool table was certainly a new addition to the room. She headed over to the breakfast bar, spotting the half empty bottle of vodka on the side.
“Please tell me we didn’t drink more when we got back here,” she muttered to herself as she spotted the note Maddy had mentioned.
My head feels like it’s had the brain cut out, like it’s been attacked by Sylar, only I don’t have any powers. Wish I did. Then I wouldn’t have a hangover. Got a call out. Just pull the door locked behind you. D.
“Who the hell is Sylar?” Taylor muttered, trying to read Danny’s semi-drunken scrawl.
* * *
Taylor decided that the most logical choice of action was to head to the morgue. Omen had given her nothing useful to go on, so Taylor figured that the body would be coming to the morgue eventually.
“Aren’t those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday,” Marty greeted her as she entered the morgue.
“I stayed at Danny’s last night,” she yawned.
“You could have borrowed his toothbrush,” Marty winced. “Tequila?” Taylor clutched her hand over mouth. “Come on,” said Marty, taking pity on her and turning himself around so that he was heading back into the morgue he had been trying to leave, and over to his little hole of an office. In the corner was a small bathroom, complete with towels and a toothbrush. “Borrow that.”
Taylor nodded in embarrassment.
“Sorry, I could have let you go upstairs and use those showers, but we have enough bodies in here already, and as I have a flight to catch, I can’t stay and help Peyton and Sid.”
Taylor swiped at him. “My breath isn’t that bad!”
Marty grinned. “Nah, but it’s fun winding you up. Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in a few days. Which, by then, you’ll owe me.”
“Owe you for what?”
“Well, it was Danny’s bed last night, Lindsay’s the night before. I figure it will be my turn when I get back.”
Taylor pushed him out of the room. “Go catch your flight.”
A short time later, she was washed and clean, although slightly wet still from the lack of hair dryer. Taylor was braiding her hair as she left the office and headed back into the morgue, spotting Danny, Hawkes, Sid and Omen as she did.
“I know I drank a fair amount last night,” said Danny. “But I’m pretty certain that with the amount you drank you shouldn’t be getting up for a while.”
“I think a ‘fair amount’ is an understatement,” Taylor rolled her eyes. “And why aren’t you clutching your head in agony? You get terrible hangovers.”
“He’s doped up to the eyeballs on painkillers,” Hawkes explained with a small smile.
“Actually, more importantly, who is Sylar?” Taylor demanded,
Hawkes rolled his eyes. “Has he been making more Heroes references again?”
“Heroes?”
“TV show,” Hawkes told her quickly, before Danny could get excited.
“Two nights in a row?” Sid asked, finally speaking. “I see the paper is treating you well.”
Taylor shrugged. “Nothing to do with me. What on earth happened to her?” she asked, pointing to the blood.
“Corn syrup,” Danny told her.
“Corn syrup? Is that supposed to be as kinky as it sounds?” Taylor asked with a frown.
“You have an interesting mind, Drew,” Danny smirked. “It’s fake blood – movie blood.”
“Not that I don’t relish your presence, Miss Turner,” Sid interrupted. “But why are you here?”
“Curiosity?” she shrugged. Or a ghost? she added silently.
“I thought your constitution didn’t agree with blood?”
“It’s corn syrup, not blood,” Taylor quickly pointed out.
“Sid?” Hawkes interrupted her, saving her somewhat from the ME pressing further.
Sid gave her one last searching look before indicating to the tattoo on her chest. “Till death do us part, Omen ‘n… someone,” he read aloud.
Taylor cocked her head. “Has someone hacked that off?” she asked, feeling the previous evening’s tequila start to churn in her stomach.
“Looks like they beat the name right off her chest,” Danny nodded in agreement. “It’s pretty cold.”
“Sharp object causing death by sharp force trauma,” Sid explained, indicating to the puncture wounds in her head, before pointing to the monitor behind which was zoomed in on the injuries. “Multiple puncture wounds in her chest and the top of her cranium.”
“Depth of penetration?” Hawkes asked.
“About an inch deep in her head, causing massive haemorrhaging beneath her wounds,” Sid continued.
“Why do you look so confused?” Taylor asked after watching Hawkes and Sid.
“The mystery is her cranium is still very much intact,” said Sid.
“No indentations,” Hawkes continued at Taylor’s still confused expression. “It’s almost as if her skull were perforated with a spike of some sort. What else?”
“Her left hand,” Sid continued, holding up the hand. “U-shaped bruising on the top side, impact abrasion on her palm. It’s almost as if her hand was stamped on both sides.”
Hawkes pointed to Omen’s chest, “I’m going to need to get a better look at this chest piece. What’s bothering me is that the wounds to her chest are localized. It’s almost as if someone was trying to remove the name.”
“A better look?” Taylor repeated, not really caring about the rest of what he said. “The last time you needed a better look at a tattoo, it ended up in a microwave.”
“Well, it won’t be going in a microwave,” Hawkes started.
“Don’t tell me,” Taylor managed before clamping her hand over her mouth and dashing out of the door.
“Aren’t those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday,” Marty greeted her as she entered the morgue.
“I stayed at Danny’s last night,” she yawned.
“You could have borrowed his toothbrush,” Marty winced. “Tequila?” Taylor clutched her hand over mouth. “Come on,” said Marty, taking pity on her and turning himself around so that he was heading back into the morgue he had been trying to leave, and over to his little hole of an office. In the corner was a small bathroom, complete with towels and a toothbrush. “Borrow that.”
Taylor nodded in embarrassment.
“Sorry, I could have let you go upstairs and use those showers, but we have enough bodies in here already, and as I have a flight to catch, I can’t stay and help Peyton and Sid.”
Taylor swiped at him. “My breath isn’t that bad!”
Marty grinned. “Nah, but it’s fun winding you up. Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in a few days. Which, by then, you’ll owe me.”
“Owe you for what?”
“Well, it was Danny’s bed last night, Lindsay’s the night before. I figure it will be my turn when I get back.”
Taylor pushed him out of the room. “Go catch your flight.”
A short time later, she was washed and clean, although slightly wet still from the lack of hair dryer. Taylor was braiding her hair as she left the office and headed back into the morgue, spotting Danny, Hawkes, Sid and Omen as she did.
“I know I drank a fair amount last night,” said Danny. “But I’m pretty certain that with the amount you drank you shouldn’t be getting up for a while.”
“I think a ‘fair amount’ is an understatement,” Taylor rolled her eyes. “And why aren’t you clutching your head in agony? You get terrible hangovers.”
“He’s doped up to the eyeballs on painkillers,” Hawkes explained with a small smile.
“Actually, more importantly, who is Sylar?” Taylor demanded,
Hawkes rolled his eyes. “Has he been making more Heroes references again?”
“Heroes?”
“TV show,” Hawkes told her quickly, before Danny could get excited.
“Two nights in a row?” Sid asked, finally speaking. “I see the paper is treating you well.”
Taylor shrugged. “Nothing to do with me. What on earth happened to her?” she asked, pointing to the blood.
“Corn syrup,” Danny told her.
“Corn syrup? Is that supposed to be as kinky as it sounds?” Taylor asked with a frown.
“You have an interesting mind, Drew,” Danny smirked. “It’s fake blood – movie blood.”
“Not that I don’t relish your presence, Miss Turner,” Sid interrupted. “But why are you here?”
“Curiosity?” she shrugged. Or a ghost? she added silently.
“I thought your constitution didn’t agree with blood?”
“It’s corn syrup, not blood,” Taylor quickly pointed out.
“Sid?” Hawkes interrupted her, saving her somewhat from the ME pressing further.
Sid gave her one last searching look before indicating to the tattoo on her chest. “Till death do us part, Omen ‘n… someone,” he read aloud.
Taylor cocked her head. “Has someone hacked that off?” she asked, feeling the previous evening’s tequila start to churn in her stomach.
“Looks like they beat the name right off her chest,” Danny nodded in agreement. “It’s pretty cold.”
“Sharp object causing death by sharp force trauma,” Sid explained, indicating to the puncture wounds in her head, before pointing to the monitor behind which was zoomed in on the injuries. “Multiple puncture wounds in her chest and the top of her cranium.”
“Depth of penetration?” Hawkes asked.
“About an inch deep in her head, causing massive haemorrhaging beneath her wounds,” Sid continued.
“Why do you look so confused?” Taylor asked after watching Hawkes and Sid.
“The mystery is her cranium is still very much intact,” said Sid.
“No indentations,” Hawkes continued at Taylor’s still confused expression. “It’s almost as if her skull were perforated with a spike of some sort. What else?”
“Her left hand,” Sid continued, holding up the hand. “U-shaped bruising on the top side, impact abrasion on her palm. It’s almost as if her hand was stamped on both sides.”
Hawkes pointed to Omen’s chest, “I’m going to need to get a better look at this chest piece. What’s bothering me is that the wounds to her chest are localized. It’s almost as if someone was trying to remove the name.”
“A better look?” Taylor repeated, not really caring about the rest of what he said. “The last time you needed a better look at a tattoo, it ended up in a microwave.”
“Well, it won’t be going in a microwave,” Hawkes started.
“Don’t tell me,” Taylor managed before clamping her hand over her mouth and dashing out of the door.
* * *
It took a while before Taylor figured she would be safe leaving the bathroom. She had been thinking that she was slowly getting used to the blood and the gore. Obviously, the recent cases weren’t actually as bad, because clearly she was still unable to deal with it properly. Or maybe it was simply the tequila.
She headed upstairs to locate Danny, figuring that if Hawkes was looking at, well, she wasn’t going to think about it. Danny had to be looking at something else. Maybe something like fingerprints… or panties? Pink panties with a stripy waistband.
“Alright, not what I was expecting, but it could be worse, I guess,” Taylor said as she walked into the lab, eyebrows arched in amusement.
Danny nodded his greeting at her, before holding the knickers in her direction. “SG. What the hell does that mean?”
“Initials?” Taylor suggested.
“She’s got to be a little old for writing her name in her underwear, hasn’t she?” Danny scoffed.
“Hey, you asked, I’m suggesting,” Taylor shrugged. “You’re the CSI, not me. I’m just a lowly journalist who happens to be pestered by ghosts.”
“I take it that’s why you’re here?”
Taylor nodded. “Yeah.”
Danny frowned, “She explain what SG means?”
“Do you think I’d be suggesting initials if she were? Sorry, Danny, but I have no idea what SG stands for.”
“I know what SG stands for,” said Adam as he joined them, giving Taylor a wary look. “Yeah, I actually used to date one of them, and phew,” he shook his head. “Let’s see, kinda broke my heart. It was a long time ago.”
Taylor looked at Danny. “Never mind, never mind, said Danny, before Adam could share any more irrelevant information. “What’s this mean?”
“Oh, uh, she’s a SuicideGirl”
“Doesn’t look like suicide to me,” Taylor told him with a frown.
“No, uh, it’s, uh. I’ll give Ivy a call and find out where Missy is,” Adam stuttered before dashing out of the room.
“You know,” Taylor mused. “I think I scare him.”
“He thinks you don’t like him from when he insulted your paper,” Danny chuckled.
She headed upstairs to locate Danny, figuring that if Hawkes was looking at, well, she wasn’t going to think about it. Danny had to be looking at something else. Maybe something like fingerprints… or panties? Pink panties with a stripy waistband.
“Alright, not what I was expecting, but it could be worse, I guess,” Taylor said as she walked into the lab, eyebrows arched in amusement.
Danny nodded his greeting at her, before holding the knickers in her direction. “SG. What the hell does that mean?”
“Initials?” Taylor suggested.
“She’s got to be a little old for writing her name in her underwear, hasn’t she?” Danny scoffed.
“Hey, you asked, I’m suggesting,” Taylor shrugged. “You’re the CSI, not me. I’m just a lowly journalist who happens to be pestered by ghosts.”
“I take it that’s why you’re here?”
Taylor nodded. “Yeah.”
Danny frowned, “She explain what SG means?”
“Do you think I’d be suggesting initials if she were? Sorry, Danny, but I have no idea what SG stands for.”
“I know what SG stands for,” said Adam as he joined them, giving Taylor a wary look. “Yeah, I actually used to date one of them, and phew,” he shook his head. “Let’s see, kinda broke my heart. It was a long time ago.”
Taylor looked at Danny. “Never mind, never mind, said Danny, before Adam could share any more irrelevant information. “What’s this mean?”
“Oh, uh, she’s a SuicideGirl”
“Doesn’t look like suicide to me,” Taylor told him with a frown.
“No, uh, it’s, uh. I’ll give Ivy a call and find out where Missy is,” Adam stuttered before dashing out of the room.
“You know,” Taylor mused. “I think I scare him.”
“He thinks you don’t like him from when he insulted your paper,” Danny chuckled.
* * *
“You sure you want to be here?” Danny asked as he and Taylor headed into a bar which was open only for a photo shoot.
“Yeah,” Taylor told him. “Omen might turn up and show me something useful. Or equally, she might turn up and show me something completely un-useful.”
“I’m not sure un-useful is actually a word.”
“It is,” said Taylor, “it means, not useful. Like that last statement.”
“I think my pain killers are wearing off,” Danny muttered shooting a glare in her direction before heading towards the three girls who were at the bar. “I’m looking for Missy Suicide, founder of the SuicideGirls?”
“I’m Missy Suicide,” the one with the short black hair piped up.
Danny nodded. “Alright, who are you two?”
“Zoe Suicide.”
“Amena Suicide.”
“You’re sisters?” Taylor asked in disbelief. None of them looked like they could be related. Although it was possible that they were adopted, or something?
“We all take the same last name,” Missy explained.
Right.
“I’m looking for a first name,” Danny interrupted, holding up a photograph, “Is she a part of your club?”
“Oh my god, that’s Omen,” Zoe gasped.
“Omen?”
Missy took the photograph off him. “Omen’s her SuicideGirl stage name. Her real name is Carensa Sanders.”
“When was the last time you guys saw her?” Danny continued.
“Omen was at the punk show with us last night. We opened for Road Kill. We do this skit from the movie Carrie before the main band.”
“Carrie?” Taylor repeated. “That explains the fake blood.”
Danny nodded before continuing, “She had a tattoo on her chest which said ‘’till death do us part, Omen and someone.’ You know who that might be? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
The three women shrugged.
“So, what are the SuicideGirls?” Taylor asked.
"A group of girls contemplating suicide?” suggested Danny.
“No!” Missy exclaimed, slightly offended. “We’re a sisterhood of 1200 punk rock, pierced, goth, metal pin-up girls. We’re not the Baywatch girls or the Playboy bunnies.”
“Or the Pussycat Dolls,” Amena added.
“We’re the Betty Paige’s of this generation. The SuicideGirls are about being strong, sexy, confident. And above all, unique.”
Danny nodded quickly, before looking around the room. His eyes fell on a trash picker. “Whose is this?” he asked as he picked it up.
“Mine,” said Amena.
“What are you doing with a trash picker?”
“Picking up trash.” Taylor turned away to hide her smirk, whilst Danny glared at the SuicideGirl. “I’m doing community service for the sanitation department,” Amena explained with a roll of her eyes. “Assault charge. Fist fight. Bitch deserved it.”
“Oh, I bet,” Danny conceded, as he pulled out a swab from his kit. “Why aren’t you out beautifying the city right now?”
“I’m on my one hour regulation break. Missy’s shooting out new sets.”
“Looks like I got a set of my own. Sharp object testing positive for blood.”
“Yeah,” Taylor told him. “Omen might turn up and show me something useful. Or equally, she might turn up and show me something completely un-useful.”
“I’m not sure un-useful is actually a word.”
“It is,” said Taylor, “it means, not useful. Like that last statement.”
“I think my pain killers are wearing off,” Danny muttered shooting a glare in her direction before heading towards the three girls who were at the bar. “I’m looking for Missy Suicide, founder of the SuicideGirls?”
“I’m Missy Suicide,” the one with the short black hair piped up.
Danny nodded. “Alright, who are you two?”
“Zoe Suicide.”
“Amena Suicide.”
“You’re sisters?” Taylor asked in disbelief. None of them looked like they could be related. Although it was possible that they were adopted, or something?
“We all take the same last name,” Missy explained.
Right.
“I’m looking for a first name,” Danny interrupted, holding up a photograph, “Is she a part of your club?”
“Oh my god, that’s Omen,” Zoe gasped.
“Omen?”
Missy took the photograph off him. “Omen’s her SuicideGirl stage name. Her real name is Carensa Sanders.”
“When was the last time you guys saw her?” Danny continued.
“Omen was at the punk show with us last night. We opened for Road Kill. We do this skit from the movie Carrie before the main band.”
“Carrie?” Taylor repeated. “That explains the fake blood.”
Danny nodded before continuing, “She had a tattoo on her chest which said ‘’till death do us part, Omen and someone.’ You know who that might be? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
The three women shrugged.
“So, what are the SuicideGirls?” Taylor asked.
"A group of girls contemplating suicide?” suggested Danny.
“No!” Missy exclaimed, slightly offended. “We’re a sisterhood of 1200 punk rock, pierced, goth, metal pin-up girls. We’re not the Baywatch girls or the Playboy bunnies.”
“Or the Pussycat Dolls,” Amena added.
“We’re the Betty Paige’s of this generation. The SuicideGirls are about being strong, sexy, confident. And above all, unique.”
Danny nodded quickly, before looking around the room. His eyes fell on a trash picker. “Whose is this?” he asked as he picked it up.
“Mine,” said Amena.
“What are you doing with a trash picker?”
“Picking up trash.” Taylor turned away to hide her smirk, whilst Danny glared at the SuicideGirl. “I’m doing community service for the sanitation department,” Amena explained with a roll of her eyes. “Assault charge. Fist fight. Bitch deserved it.”
“Oh, I bet,” Danny conceded, as he pulled out a swab from his kit. “Why aren’t you out beautifying the city right now?”
“I’m on my one hour regulation break. Missy’s shooting out new sets.”
“Looks like I got a set of my own. Sharp object testing positive for blood.”
* * *
Whilst Danny was questioning Amena further, Taylor headed back upstairs into the Lab to try and grab a nap. Sadly, Omen wasn’t about to let that happen when she appeared with Maddy almost as soon as Taylor had stretched out on the couch.
“Wakey wakey, Sleeping Beauty,” said Maddy a little louder than was necessary.
“I wasn’t asleep,” Taylor moaned.
“I know, but it’s fun torturing you, especially as I know about your lack of hangovers.”
Taylor threw a cushion at her. “What is it with people enjoying torturing me today?”
“Ghost here,” Maddy cackled. “Sticks and stones can’t break my bones anymore.”
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me feel better,” Taylor moaned.
“Get him, and tell her I loved her,” said Omen, just as mournfully, before producing… well, Taylor wasn’t entirely sure. It looked like a toy of a ghost sitting on her index finger, which Omen was wiggling around, making the thing’s outstretched arms dance.
“Am I supposed to have any clue what that means?”
“Get him and tell her I loved her,” Omen merely repeated before she and Maddy disappeared again.
“A ghost? A ghoul?” Taylor muttered. “Yeah, sure, I get that one.” She headed out into the hallway spotting Hawkes as he was joined by Danny.
“Trash picker came back positive for blood, negative for human,” Hawkes was saying.
“Negative for human?” Taylor repeated.
“Yeah.”
“Please tell me that it tested positive for ghost,” she muttered.
“Ghost?” Hawkes repeated, “Seriously?”
Taylor shrugged. “Still working on it.”
“Well what is it?” asked Danny impatiently. “The blood, I mean?”
“Ratus norvegicus.”
“Bless you,” said Taylor.
“A rat? Amena was telling the truth.” Danny rolled his eyes at Taylor. “Are you still drunk?”
“All is not lost,” Hawkes interrupted before the pair could launch into a childish bickering match. “Sid found a green substance in the punctures of Omen’s skull.” He handed over a folder to Danny whilst Taylor peered over his shoulder.
“What kind of substance?” Taylor asked, hardly being able to read half of the chemicals that were written on the sheet.
“Shoe polish?” Danny asked, looking at Hawkes. With a smile, Hawkes nodded. “I think it’s time to see Lindsay,” Danny told Taylor as Hawkes disappeared back into the lab. Before giving Taylor the chance to ask if it was necessary, Danny had spun on his heel and dashed off into the lab.
Taylor was after him in a shot.
“Hey, tell me Omen was stomped to death.” bragged Danny as he marched into the Lab Danny was hiding. “Am I right?”
Lindsay shook her head, “I don’t think so, Danny. There were no abrasive wounds to the skull like you’d expect if it were a stomping case. This girl was bludgeoned.”
Taylor, who had arrived for Lindsay’s statement, stopped suddenly, wondering what could possibly be left in her stomach for it to be churning. She didn’t have much time to process the thought as Adam appeared behind her.
“You two have a visitor,” said Adam. He stopped when he noticed Taylor. “Uh, Carensa Sanders’ mom is in the conference room.” And then he was gone.
“Did you tell her to come down?” Lindsay asked Danny.
“No.”
“What about you?” she asked Taylor.
Taylor shrugged at her.
“Why don’t you take her,” said Danny with a frown. “I’m going to follow up with the shoe polish.”
“Oh sure, leave me with the distraught mom!” Lindsay suddenly burst out. “Stick Lindsay with the jobs nobody wants?”
“Hey, what’s the matter with you? You’ve been acting funny since we got to the crime scene.”
Lindsay sighed. “Look, I need you to take this, okay.”
“Why?”
“I’m no good with mothers. Alright?” she admitted. “Fathers I can give bad news to all day long, but I can’t face mothers. I need you to take it.”
Danny nodded, causing Taylor to stare at him in disbelief. “Alright. Okay. You got it.”
As Danny left, something twigged in Taylor’s head, and she dashed out after him. “Danny!”
“What’s up?”
“You alright?”
Danny nodded, “I’m fine.”
“Um, I think Omen wanted her mother to know she loved her.” Taylor frowned. “Well, she keeps telling me to ‘let her know I loved her’. I could be wrong. But it makes more sense than a ghost. Unless she’s in love with Maddy. That could be inter-”
“Taylor! Go check on Linds for me.”
Taylor nodded and headed back in the direction she had come from, only to find that Lindsay was just around the corner watching Danny greet Mrs Sanders.
“I was a little hard, wasn’t I?” Lindsay asked, quietly.
“You going to tell me why you’re so jumpy yet?”
“I’m fine.”
“Clearly,” Taylor sighed. “You know, you can tell me if there’s something wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong. I just don’t like talking to mothers. Especially when they react like that.” She nodded in the direction of Mrs Sanders, who had just thrown some photographs onto the table in front of her.
The next moment, Mrs Sanders was on her feet and had slapped Danny around the face. Taylor’s jaw dropped open. “What the hell did he just say to her?”
“I’m not sure, but he’s showing her the ‘I love my Mom’ tattoo.
Taylor bit her lip, pretty certain she knew what he had said. “He’s going to kill me,” she muttered under her breath.
“Wakey wakey, Sleeping Beauty,” said Maddy a little louder than was necessary.
“I wasn’t asleep,” Taylor moaned.
“I know, but it’s fun torturing you, especially as I know about your lack of hangovers.”
Taylor threw a cushion at her. “What is it with people enjoying torturing me today?”
“Ghost here,” Maddy cackled. “Sticks and stones can’t break my bones anymore.”
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me feel better,” Taylor moaned.
“Get him, and tell her I loved her,” said Omen, just as mournfully, before producing… well, Taylor wasn’t entirely sure. It looked like a toy of a ghost sitting on her index finger, which Omen was wiggling around, making the thing’s outstretched arms dance.
“Am I supposed to have any clue what that means?”
“Get him and tell her I loved her,” Omen merely repeated before she and Maddy disappeared again.
“A ghost? A ghoul?” Taylor muttered. “Yeah, sure, I get that one.” She headed out into the hallway spotting Hawkes as he was joined by Danny.
“Trash picker came back positive for blood, negative for human,” Hawkes was saying.
“Negative for human?” Taylor repeated.
“Yeah.”
“Please tell me that it tested positive for ghost,” she muttered.
“Ghost?” Hawkes repeated, “Seriously?”
Taylor shrugged. “Still working on it.”
“Well what is it?” asked Danny impatiently. “The blood, I mean?”
“Ratus norvegicus.”
“Bless you,” said Taylor.
“A rat? Amena was telling the truth.” Danny rolled his eyes at Taylor. “Are you still drunk?”
“All is not lost,” Hawkes interrupted before the pair could launch into a childish bickering match. “Sid found a green substance in the punctures of Omen’s skull.” He handed over a folder to Danny whilst Taylor peered over his shoulder.
“What kind of substance?” Taylor asked, hardly being able to read half of the chemicals that were written on the sheet.
“Shoe polish?” Danny asked, looking at Hawkes. With a smile, Hawkes nodded. “I think it’s time to see Lindsay,” Danny told Taylor as Hawkes disappeared back into the lab. Before giving Taylor the chance to ask if it was necessary, Danny had spun on his heel and dashed off into the lab.
Taylor was after him in a shot.
“Hey, tell me Omen was stomped to death.” bragged Danny as he marched into the Lab Danny was hiding. “Am I right?”
Lindsay shook her head, “I don’t think so, Danny. There were no abrasive wounds to the skull like you’d expect if it were a stomping case. This girl was bludgeoned.”
Taylor, who had arrived for Lindsay’s statement, stopped suddenly, wondering what could possibly be left in her stomach for it to be churning. She didn’t have much time to process the thought as Adam appeared behind her.
“You two have a visitor,” said Adam. He stopped when he noticed Taylor. “Uh, Carensa Sanders’ mom is in the conference room.” And then he was gone.
“Did you tell her to come down?” Lindsay asked Danny.
“No.”
“What about you?” she asked Taylor.
Taylor shrugged at her.
“Why don’t you take her,” said Danny with a frown. “I’m going to follow up with the shoe polish.”
“Oh sure, leave me with the distraught mom!” Lindsay suddenly burst out. “Stick Lindsay with the jobs nobody wants?”
“Hey, what’s the matter with you? You’ve been acting funny since we got to the crime scene.”
Lindsay sighed. “Look, I need you to take this, okay.”
“Why?”
“I’m no good with mothers. Alright?” she admitted. “Fathers I can give bad news to all day long, but I can’t face mothers. I need you to take it.”
Danny nodded, causing Taylor to stare at him in disbelief. “Alright. Okay. You got it.”
As Danny left, something twigged in Taylor’s head, and she dashed out after him. “Danny!”
“What’s up?”
“You alright?”
Danny nodded, “I’m fine.”
“Um, I think Omen wanted her mother to know she loved her.” Taylor frowned. “Well, she keeps telling me to ‘let her know I loved her’. I could be wrong. But it makes more sense than a ghost. Unless she’s in love with Maddy. That could be inter-”
“Taylor! Go check on Linds for me.”
Taylor nodded and headed back in the direction she had come from, only to find that Lindsay was just around the corner watching Danny greet Mrs Sanders.
“I was a little hard, wasn’t I?” Lindsay asked, quietly.
“You going to tell me why you’re so jumpy yet?”
“I’m fine.”
“Clearly,” Taylor sighed. “You know, you can tell me if there’s something wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong. I just don’t like talking to mothers. Especially when they react like that.” She nodded in the direction of Mrs Sanders, who had just thrown some photographs onto the table in front of her.
The next moment, Mrs Sanders was on her feet and had slapped Danny around the face. Taylor’s jaw dropped open. “What the hell did he just say to her?”
“I’m not sure, but he’s showing her the ‘I love my Mom’ tattoo.
Taylor bit her lip, pretty certain she knew what he had said. “He’s going to kill me,” she muttered under her breath.
Originally posted 15/08/2007