Charlie’s expression was unreadable as he listened to his brother on the other end of the phone. Taylor watched him, trying not to appear smug. She couldn’t blame him – she was only too aware of how much some people needed the evidence, but there was something deeply satisfying when she was able to prove her point.
“Good news?” she asked innocently as Charlie hung up, slipping the phone into his pocket.
“They found the car,” he told her. “It was set on fire, so it’s debatable if they will find any forensic evidence.”
“And where did they find it?”
“Venice,” Charlie responded, shortly.
“Venice, as in gondolas?” Taylor grinned.
“They were in Oakwood, which isn’t far from Venice,” Charlie responded, looking less than impressed.
Taylor wet her lips in an attempt not to get angry with him. “And they were in Oakwood because a ghost told them to go there.”
“Taylor, you’re from San Diego. It’s a stone’s throw away-”
“125 miles,” Larry piped up, reminding Taylor that there was a third person in the room.
Taylor settled back into the chair. “Fine. You need more proof. I get that.”
Charlie nodded, taking his seat. “You still need to tell me what Larry is holding.”
Taylor yawned. “Charlie, it is four am. Yesterday I was in New York. I need some sleep. Can this wait until tomorrow? Please?”
Charlie examined his watch and nodded his head. “I have a nine am lecture. Can you be here for eleven?
“I came prepared,” Taylor announced, walking into the room that was still set up for the experiment Charlie was trying to perform. She held up a large bottle of water and a copy of US Weekly.
“You can’t read that,” Charlie spluttered.
“Why not?” Taylor asked, glancing down at the cover. “Because I am seriously behind on my celebrity gossip. Did you know that Reese Witherspoon had split with Ryan Phillipe, because I never saw that one coming?”
“You can’t read during the experiment,” Charlie repeated, taking the magazine from Taylor.
“And I can’t guarantee that a ghost is going to appear,” Taylor returned. “Do you have a time limit on this?”
“The original Ganzfeld Experiment was only supposed to take a half hour,” Larry announced, suddenly materializing into the room.
Taylor burst out laughing and snatched her magazine back. “We sat in here for five hours last night. Clearly you don’t have a time limit.”
“You implied that ghosts won’t come when summoned,” Larry told her. “And we have also been told to keep you busy so you don’t go wandering into trouble.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Taylor muttered as Charlie hissed a reprimand at Larry. Apparently she wasn’t supposed to know that. She headed straight for the chair and kicked her sandals off, curling hr legs up beneath her. “I’ll let you know when a ghost appears,” she informed the two men, barely taking her eyes from the magazine.
“And how will you know they’re “here” if you’re not looking for them?” Charlie asked her.
“That’s why I’m not wearing a sweater,” Taylor shrugged, flicking the page. “The goose pimples will tell me there’s a ghost in the room.”
“The what?” Charlie asked, surprised.
“Goose pimples,” Taylor repeated, flicking her eyes up, surprised to see that he too was surprised.
“Cutis anserina,” Larry interjected. “Where the skin at the –”
“I know what goose pimples are, Larry,” Charlie cut him off. “I just don’t see how they can be used with ghost hunting.”
“We’re not ghost hunting,” Taylor told him. “And surely you’ve noticed that the temperature dips when there’s a ghost about?”
“I, uh, no,” Charlie quickly shook his head.
“Why don’t you try getting some thermometers in here,” Taylor suggested, dropping her attention back to the magazine. “Might help my case.”
Charlie shared a look with Larry. “Can’t hurt,” Larry told him.
“I’ll call Amita,” Charlie sighed.
Cory was working on her fifth cup of coffee and still she hadn’t found anything. She knew that her contacts would have to take time to investigate any possible connections to Ignacio, but she hated downtime. Especially since she had so much on her mind. It still hurt to think of James, but the hurt was somewhat lessoned by what Taylor had told her. The fact that James was a ghost had not surprised her, since she had felt him around her consistently from the time he died. Some days, the presence was comforting, usually when she’d had a bad day, but she still blamed herself for his death.
“Cory?” Liz asked her. “Are you okay?”
Cory broke herself out of her thoughts and turned her dark-haired former colleague. “Yeah, just tired.”
Liz raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that, Cory. I know you. We worked together for too long to buy that.”
Cory sighed for settling back in her chair. “I just got some unexpected news and it’s brought back a lot of memories. Not particularly happy memories.”
“Does it have anything to do with Taylor?” Liz asked shrewdly. “I seem to remember her from New York.”
“Yes and no. Yes because it reminds me of why I left the Bureau, but no the memories are not of that. They are of Dallas and how much my life has changed since then.”
Liz looked at her, putting the facts together. “James,” she concluded with some sorrow. When she had first gone to New York and was assigned to Cory’s team she was thrilled. She knew that the woman had a hard reputation ever since her fiancé had been killed, but one night after a particularly hard arrest they had gotten drunk together and Cory had poured out the whole story. Her heart had clenched at the wretched way she had lost the love of her life and she knew that even now, Cory was not dealing with that lost.
“Yeah,” Cory returned. “Taylor just finally managed to get it through to my head that I am not responsible for his death. I just don’t know what to do. I’ve always wanted to be a cop and not being one is hard. I feel like I have no purpose in life.”
Liz settled back, setting her own cup of coffee aside. “Why not apply somewhere else? Surely any local P.D. would be ecstatic to have you. You are a great cop, Cory,” she tried to reassure her.
“Yeah, with my record? What happened in Dallas could have been a fluke, but I managed to have a gang member on my payroll in New York? No one is going to ignore that,” Cory concluded somberly.
Liz sighed, she remembered how tough the New York office had been for her. Everywhere there were pitfalls and she blamed it on the chauvinistic head agent of that field office. He somehow believed that just because you were a woman, you were a lesser agent. “Look, the New York office is just messed up. You could always apply here. I know that Don would be fortunate to have you.”
Cory smiled. “Thanks for that, but I’m done with the Bureau,” she responded as she looked off into space. “Maybe I can try to become a spook.”
Liz chuckled. “Somehow, I can not picture as part of the C.I.A., Cory. But, if it’s what you want to do, then do it.”
Cory grinned back as her phone rang. “Reid,” she answered automatically as she listened to the person on the other end of the line, a smile spreading across her face. “Thanks, Ben. I am forever in your debt.”
Liz looked at her expectantly. “I take it we have news?”
Cory nodded. “And a possible connection to L.A. We should got let everyone else know.”
It had been a slow morning, the hours ebbing into afternoon. Taylor was only slightly bored now. She’d finished her magazine an hour ago and had spent the time watching Charlie. His wife has appeared just before lunch, bringing some sandwiches with the thermometers, but had left to finish some form of equation – apparently, she was also a genius.
Charlie had taken to doing something that was also mathematically related, but for all Taylor could tell, he was trying to work out warp speed as his doodles on the room’s whiteboard made no sense to her. Hell, she was fairly certain Hawkes or Mac wouldn’t be able to understand that stuff.
Larry, well, he was still behind the screen doing goodness knows what. His hand had appeared at one point to acquire a sandwich, but for all Taylor knew, he could have curled up into a ball and taken a nap.
So far they had heard nothing from the FBI agents, and nothing from the ghosts. Taylor was also ashamed to admit that she was relieved that Flack hadn’t checked in. What Cory had admitted had really done a number on her. She’d tried to bring it up as they curled up in bed, but Flack had fallen asleep almost instantly – there had been mutterings of even in LA they still run, and then the snores had set in.
“You know, you still haven’t told me what Larry has with him behind that screen,” Charlie told her, as if sensing she was watching him. He looked up, nodding – confirming to himself that he had been right. “You’re failing this test.”
“And I still need a ghost to appear,” Taylor told him. “Because I can’t attempt to take your test if I don’t have all the right tools.”
“Did you just call me a tool?” James asked, as he and Rosa appeared again, the room temperature dropping slightly.
“If the shoe fits,” Taylor responded lightly.
“Hey!” James objected, taking a couple of steps towards her. “What have I done?”
“Nothing,” Taylor returned, fixing him a glare. “That’s the point. You were supposed to be moving on to that great farm in the sky and I was supposed to be enjoying a weekend vacation.”
“What are you talking about?” Charlie asked her, giving her a confused look.
“You lucked in,” Taylor told him, dryly. “The ghosts appeared.”
“And are any of them telling you what Larry has in his hands?” he asked her, the familiar skeptical look back.
Taylor stared at the two ghosts expectantly.
“I’m not here to play games,” James told her, rolling his eyes. “I’m a tool, remember.”
“Yes, yes you are,” Taylor grumbled, turning her attention to Rosa. Only Rosa did something that she left both Taylor and James” mouths hanging open. When Rosa had been shot, she had been wearing a pretty white dress with flowers embroidered along the hemline. Taylor had been doing her best to ignore the four bullet holes that were still clearly staining the dress. And as Rosa undid the straps, allowing it to fall to the floor, they were clearly marking her stomach.
Taylor stared, mouth open at the woman who stood before her, only wearing a pair of panties. “Stop staring!” she hissed at James. “You have a fiancé, and I don’t care if she’s still alive.”
“What?” Charlie asked, alarmed.
“I, uh…” Taylor stalled as Rosa turned, giving her a clear view of her back. A back which had a very interesting collage of tattoos across it. “I need a pencil and a piece of paper,” she quickly told the mathematician.
“You really don’t need to draw the item,” Charlie told her, glancing at the apple Larry was holding.
“Oh, I really do,” Taylor mumbled.
“Ignacio had two cell mates during his stay in the Beaumont Correction Complex,” Cory quickly filled the room in. “And both have connections in LA.”
Don, Flack and Colby had returned to the office minutes ago, to be met by Cory and Liz who had had a little success in the research department.
“I’m going to need a vacation to recover from this vacation,” Flack groaned stretching out. “Because I sense that these connections are not going to be nice and friendly, law-abiding citizens,” he muttered, addressing Liz.
Cory wet her lips, consciously ignoring the dig that Flack was making at her, and instead of responding with a similar level of maturity involving addressing Don instead, she looked him straight in his deep blue eyes and nodded. “Your senses are spot on,” she told him. “One is a member of the Aztec Knights, the other Blood Kings.”
“Charming,” Colby muttered. “The Feudal system hits the gangs.”
Don, who was pacing at the head of the table, glanced over at Cory. “Any clue as to which is likelier?”
“I think we might need to get the Charlie to have a look at this one,” Liz started, and trailed off at the loud voices echoing down the corridor.
“Will you relax?” came Taylor’s voice. “I wasn’t peeking, I didn’t see what the odd little man was doing behind the screen – where the hell am I going? – and we can continue with this boring test after, however-”
“I’m going to have to change the items,” Charlie was saying. “I can’t risk that you’ve seen them. And how on earth is a couple of stick men going to find a shooter? It was easier to see something in Picasso’s work.”
“I might not be an artist, but my sketches make more sense than the random letters and numbers on your notepad,” Taylor retorted. She appeared in the doorway, her eyes rolling. “Here you are,” she sighed, pushing the pad in Cory’s direction.
Cory looked down at the image in front of her, trying not to pull a face as she tried to work out what exactly it was. “Thanks, Taylor, but um,” she tilted the notebook slightly. “How are fourteen hills, a circus tent and a river going to help us?”
“Circus tent and a river?” Liz repeated, stretching over to examine the sketch. “Looks like the pyramids and the Nile to me.”
“Really?” Colby asked, confused. He was squinting at the drawing, his head cocked. “I see a dead worm in a party hat.”
“A worm?” Taylor replied, snatching the paper back. “It’s a snake, with a helmet thingy, and those hills are gravestones!” Taylor objected, pointing out the parts she was referring to, marginally offended at the fact no one could tell that.
“If you say so,” Charlie muttered, pulling a face at his brother.
“Okay, it’s a snake and some gravestones,” Don agreed, keeping his face neutral. “The relevance is?”
Taylor rolled her eyes, placing the drawing on the table. “That was the unpleasant image that just greeted me,” she told them.
“So now you’re having visions?” Charlie asked her, dryly.
“No, doofas,” Taylor groaned. “It’s a tattoo, and unless Rosa has a mural on her back, my best guess is it is the shooter.”
“You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve heard Charlie be called a doofas,” Liz noted, sharing a grin with Colby.
“Really?” Taylor asked, her eyebrows arched in surprise. “That surprises me.” She pushed the drawing back in Cory’s direction. “Imagine that as a tattoo on the back of a guy.”
“Really use your imagination,” Charlie added.
“I’m thinking gang tat. Does it look familiar?”
Cory stared at the paper, her brows burrowed in concentration. Suddenly her eyes widened. “Of course it does. The snake is the marking of an Aztec Knight. The tombstones represent the number people that he’s killed. I can’t believe I didn’t see that.”
“I can,” Charlie assured her, patting her shoulder. “It’s easy to confuse it with the work of a six year old.”
Taylor, showing her level of maturity, poked her tongue out at the curly haired man. The she turned back to Cory. “Do you think you can narrow it down?” she asked her.
Cory quickly nodded. “I should be able to, thanks. You can get back to your experiment now, if you want?”
Taylor glanced around and seeing a lack of anyone suggesting that she stay and help, she shrugged. “Why not? I’m sure I’ve got a bottle of nail polish in my purse somewhere.” She turned on her heel, striding out the door with Charlie hurrying after her, crying it’s an experiment, not an afternoon in a day spa!
“You really think you can narrow that down to a person?” Colby asked, flicking the drawing he was now holding. He turned it upside down, holding it away from him. “I still think it looks like a dead worm.”
Taylor was trapped. Alright, she admitted. Not trapped – just bored. Despite Charlie’s initial protests, she had slipped her feet out of her sandals and painted her nails a teal, the same colour as her top. Then she had moved onto her finger nails. She’d even offered to do Charlie’s. (That hadn’t been received very well).
It was now dark out and she hadn’t heard anything from Rosa, or from the living people trying to find her killer. Amita had appeared again with some Chinese takeaway and disappeared just as quickly as she had plans to play chess with Charlie’s dad.
“If they weren’t already dead, I would kill them all over again,” Taylor muttered, causing Charlie to look over.
“I’m sorry?”
Taylor sighed, shifting in the chair to get more comfortable. “I’m in LA for Fleet Week. I’m supposed to be spending time with my dad, not stuck in an eleventh story room, testing my patience. Next time a ghost asks, I’m going to say no.”
“They ask?” Charlie asked, his curiosity piqued.
Taylor quickly shook her head. “No, normally they just appear. The dead don’t do vacations.” She paused in her explanation as Flack entered the room, followed by Don. “What’s the matter?” she asked at the same time as Charlie.
“We found the owner of the tattoo,” Don explained.
“Well that’s good news,” Taylor started. She frowned, watching the two Dons. “That’s not good news?”
Don sighed. “We have no evidence to tie him to the shooting or the car. David looked through the CCTV and the only thing we can confirm is that the car drove up and down the street a couple of times before driving off – you can’t see the driver.”
“We were wondering if Rosa had offered something else to you?” Flack asked her.
“Don’t you think I would have been down with it if she had?” Taylor snapped at him. She blinked. “Sorry. No, she hasn’t.” She got up off the chair and glared around the room. “And I’ve had enough of this. Rosa, get your ghostly ass here.”
“I thought they didn’t come when called,” Charlie asked, his tone once again dry.
“They don’t, but I have two fifteen year olds who are going to get me up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to go to Universal Studios. She has two hours before I want to be in bed, so Rosa!”
She appeared, James in tow. “Moody much?” he asked.
“Do not make me find the janitor’s closet and borrow their vacuum cleaner. Because I will,” Taylor warned him. She moved her attention to Rosa. “Right, here’s the deal. You’re dead. We have the guy in custody, but no evidence. You want him to walk, then you keep quiet,” she told her as their eyes locked.
Rosa broke away first and turned, walking to the door, and then through it. “We are going on a walk,” Taylor told them, forgetting about her shoes as she hurried after her. Rosa led her to the stairs and down into the basement.
“You can’t go in there without clearance,” Don called after her as Taylor made to open a door Rosa had just walked through.
“So give me clearance,” Taylor shrugged. “I won’t touch anything.”
Don frowned, glancing at Flack. “She won’t,” he agreed. “She’s usually pretty good at that.”
“And yet you use the word usually,” he muttered, stepping forward to punch in the six digit security code to the door.
The room seemed to contain evidence – close to them, what was left of the burn out car after the fire department had rescued it, busy being processed.
“You don’t even let me in here,” Charlie cried, appearing behind them.
Taylor ignored him, and the lab rats who had turned to stare at the arrivals. Instead she edged towards the car, trying to work out what Rosa was pointing to. Quickly, she scrapped her hair back into a ponytail and reached for a pair of gloves.
The lab rats, who had started protesting, fell silent at Don’s assurance that it was alright and Taylor wasn’t going to remove anything from the car. Taylor opened the driver’s side door. Rosa had seated herself in the passenger seat and was pointing at the gas pedal. Silently, Taylor dropped to her knees, peering into the burnt out area. “Gum,” she announced, her head popping back up.
A guy in an overall moved in, reaching under the pedal and pulled the offending item out. “Gum,” he confirmed.
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Oh, for goodness sake. They would have found that eventually. You can’t believe that the ghost told her that?” he asked his brother.
Don shrugged, staring at the gum. “Regardless, she found it before they did.”
“Good news?” she asked innocently as Charlie hung up, slipping the phone into his pocket.
“They found the car,” he told her. “It was set on fire, so it’s debatable if they will find any forensic evidence.”
“And where did they find it?”
“Venice,” Charlie responded, shortly.
“Venice, as in gondolas?” Taylor grinned.
“They were in Oakwood, which isn’t far from Venice,” Charlie responded, looking less than impressed.
Taylor wet her lips in an attempt not to get angry with him. “And they were in Oakwood because a ghost told them to go there.”
“Taylor, you’re from San Diego. It’s a stone’s throw away-”
“125 miles,” Larry piped up, reminding Taylor that there was a third person in the room.
Taylor settled back into the chair. “Fine. You need more proof. I get that.”
Charlie nodded, taking his seat. “You still need to tell me what Larry is holding.”
Taylor yawned. “Charlie, it is four am. Yesterday I was in New York. I need some sleep. Can this wait until tomorrow? Please?”
Charlie examined his watch and nodded his head. “I have a nine am lecture. Can you be here for eleven?
“I came prepared,” Taylor announced, walking into the room that was still set up for the experiment Charlie was trying to perform. She held up a large bottle of water and a copy of US Weekly.
“You can’t read that,” Charlie spluttered.
“Why not?” Taylor asked, glancing down at the cover. “Because I am seriously behind on my celebrity gossip. Did you know that Reese Witherspoon had split with Ryan Phillipe, because I never saw that one coming?”
“You can’t read during the experiment,” Charlie repeated, taking the magazine from Taylor.
“And I can’t guarantee that a ghost is going to appear,” Taylor returned. “Do you have a time limit on this?”
“The original Ganzfeld Experiment was only supposed to take a half hour,” Larry announced, suddenly materializing into the room.
Taylor burst out laughing and snatched her magazine back. “We sat in here for five hours last night. Clearly you don’t have a time limit.”
“You implied that ghosts won’t come when summoned,” Larry told her. “And we have also been told to keep you busy so you don’t go wandering into trouble.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Taylor muttered as Charlie hissed a reprimand at Larry. Apparently she wasn’t supposed to know that. She headed straight for the chair and kicked her sandals off, curling hr legs up beneath her. “I’ll let you know when a ghost appears,” she informed the two men, barely taking her eyes from the magazine.
“And how will you know they’re “here” if you’re not looking for them?” Charlie asked her.
“That’s why I’m not wearing a sweater,” Taylor shrugged, flicking the page. “The goose pimples will tell me there’s a ghost in the room.”
“The what?” Charlie asked, surprised.
“Goose pimples,” Taylor repeated, flicking her eyes up, surprised to see that he too was surprised.
“Cutis anserina,” Larry interjected. “Where the skin at the –”
“I know what goose pimples are, Larry,” Charlie cut him off. “I just don’t see how they can be used with ghost hunting.”
“We’re not ghost hunting,” Taylor told him. “And surely you’ve noticed that the temperature dips when there’s a ghost about?”
“I, uh, no,” Charlie quickly shook his head.
“Why don’t you try getting some thermometers in here,” Taylor suggested, dropping her attention back to the magazine. “Might help my case.”
Charlie shared a look with Larry. “Can’t hurt,” Larry told him.
“I’ll call Amita,” Charlie sighed.
Cory was working on her fifth cup of coffee and still she hadn’t found anything. She knew that her contacts would have to take time to investigate any possible connections to Ignacio, but she hated downtime. Especially since she had so much on her mind. It still hurt to think of James, but the hurt was somewhat lessoned by what Taylor had told her. The fact that James was a ghost had not surprised her, since she had felt him around her consistently from the time he died. Some days, the presence was comforting, usually when she’d had a bad day, but she still blamed herself for his death.
“Cory?” Liz asked her. “Are you okay?”
Cory broke herself out of her thoughts and turned her dark-haired former colleague. “Yeah, just tired.”
Liz raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that, Cory. I know you. We worked together for too long to buy that.”
Cory sighed for settling back in her chair. “I just got some unexpected news and it’s brought back a lot of memories. Not particularly happy memories.”
“Does it have anything to do with Taylor?” Liz asked shrewdly. “I seem to remember her from New York.”
“Yes and no. Yes because it reminds me of why I left the Bureau, but no the memories are not of that. They are of Dallas and how much my life has changed since then.”
Liz looked at her, putting the facts together. “James,” she concluded with some sorrow. When she had first gone to New York and was assigned to Cory’s team she was thrilled. She knew that the woman had a hard reputation ever since her fiancé had been killed, but one night after a particularly hard arrest they had gotten drunk together and Cory had poured out the whole story. Her heart had clenched at the wretched way she had lost the love of her life and she knew that even now, Cory was not dealing with that lost.
“Yeah,” Cory returned. “Taylor just finally managed to get it through to my head that I am not responsible for his death. I just don’t know what to do. I’ve always wanted to be a cop and not being one is hard. I feel like I have no purpose in life.”
Liz settled back, setting her own cup of coffee aside. “Why not apply somewhere else? Surely any local P.D. would be ecstatic to have you. You are a great cop, Cory,” she tried to reassure her.
“Yeah, with my record? What happened in Dallas could have been a fluke, but I managed to have a gang member on my payroll in New York? No one is going to ignore that,” Cory concluded somberly.
Liz sighed, she remembered how tough the New York office had been for her. Everywhere there were pitfalls and she blamed it on the chauvinistic head agent of that field office. He somehow believed that just because you were a woman, you were a lesser agent. “Look, the New York office is just messed up. You could always apply here. I know that Don would be fortunate to have you.”
Cory smiled. “Thanks for that, but I’m done with the Bureau,” she responded as she looked off into space. “Maybe I can try to become a spook.”
Liz chuckled. “Somehow, I can not picture as part of the C.I.A., Cory. But, if it’s what you want to do, then do it.”
Cory grinned back as her phone rang. “Reid,” she answered automatically as she listened to the person on the other end of the line, a smile spreading across her face. “Thanks, Ben. I am forever in your debt.”
Liz looked at her expectantly. “I take it we have news?”
Cory nodded. “And a possible connection to L.A. We should got let everyone else know.”
It had been a slow morning, the hours ebbing into afternoon. Taylor was only slightly bored now. She’d finished her magazine an hour ago and had spent the time watching Charlie. His wife has appeared just before lunch, bringing some sandwiches with the thermometers, but had left to finish some form of equation – apparently, she was also a genius.
Charlie had taken to doing something that was also mathematically related, but for all Taylor could tell, he was trying to work out warp speed as his doodles on the room’s whiteboard made no sense to her. Hell, she was fairly certain Hawkes or Mac wouldn’t be able to understand that stuff.
Larry, well, he was still behind the screen doing goodness knows what. His hand had appeared at one point to acquire a sandwich, but for all Taylor knew, he could have curled up into a ball and taken a nap.
So far they had heard nothing from the FBI agents, and nothing from the ghosts. Taylor was also ashamed to admit that she was relieved that Flack hadn’t checked in. What Cory had admitted had really done a number on her. She’d tried to bring it up as they curled up in bed, but Flack had fallen asleep almost instantly – there had been mutterings of even in LA they still run, and then the snores had set in.
“You know, you still haven’t told me what Larry has with him behind that screen,” Charlie told her, as if sensing she was watching him. He looked up, nodding – confirming to himself that he had been right. “You’re failing this test.”
“And I still need a ghost to appear,” Taylor told him. “Because I can’t attempt to take your test if I don’t have all the right tools.”
“Did you just call me a tool?” James asked, as he and Rosa appeared again, the room temperature dropping slightly.
“If the shoe fits,” Taylor responded lightly.
“Hey!” James objected, taking a couple of steps towards her. “What have I done?”
“Nothing,” Taylor returned, fixing him a glare. “That’s the point. You were supposed to be moving on to that great farm in the sky and I was supposed to be enjoying a weekend vacation.”
“What are you talking about?” Charlie asked her, giving her a confused look.
“You lucked in,” Taylor told him, dryly. “The ghosts appeared.”
“And are any of them telling you what Larry has in his hands?” he asked her, the familiar skeptical look back.
Taylor stared at the two ghosts expectantly.
“I’m not here to play games,” James told her, rolling his eyes. “I’m a tool, remember.”
“Yes, yes you are,” Taylor grumbled, turning her attention to Rosa. Only Rosa did something that she left both Taylor and James” mouths hanging open. When Rosa had been shot, she had been wearing a pretty white dress with flowers embroidered along the hemline. Taylor had been doing her best to ignore the four bullet holes that were still clearly staining the dress. And as Rosa undid the straps, allowing it to fall to the floor, they were clearly marking her stomach.
Taylor stared, mouth open at the woman who stood before her, only wearing a pair of panties. “Stop staring!” she hissed at James. “You have a fiancé, and I don’t care if she’s still alive.”
“What?” Charlie asked, alarmed.
“I, uh…” Taylor stalled as Rosa turned, giving her a clear view of her back. A back which had a very interesting collage of tattoos across it. “I need a pencil and a piece of paper,” she quickly told the mathematician.
“You really don’t need to draw the item,” Charlie told her, glancing at the apple Larry was holding.
“Oh, I really do,” Taylor mumbled.
“Ignacio had two cell mates during his stay in the Beaumont Correction Complex,” Cory quickly filled the room in. “And both have connections in LA.”
Don, Flack and Colby had returned to the office minutes ago, to be met by Cory and Liz who had had a little success in the research department.
“I’m going to need a vacation to recover from this vacation,” Flack groaned stretching out. “Because I sense that these connections are not going to be nice and friendly, law-abiding citizens,” he muttered, addressing Liz.
Cory wet her lips, consciously ignoring the dig that Flack was making at her, and instead of responding with a similar level of maturity involving addressing Don instead, she looked him straight in his deep blue eyes and nodded. “Your senses are spot on,” she told him. “One is a member of the Aztec Knights, the other Blood Kings.”
“Charming,” Colby muttered. “The Feudal system hits the gangs.”
Don, who was pacing at the head of the table, glanced over at Cory. “Any clue as to which is likelier?”
“I think we might need to get the Charlie to have a look at this one,” Liz started, and trailed off at the loud voices echoing down the corridor.
“Will you relax?” came Taylor’s voice. “I wasn’t peeking, I didn’t see what the odd little man was doing behind the screen – where the hell am I going? – and we can continue with this boring test after, however-”
“I’m going to have to change the items,” Charlie was saying. “I can’t risk that you’ve seen them. And how on earth is a couple of stick men going to find a shooter? It was easier to see something in Picasso’s work.”
“I might not be an artist, but my sketches make more sense than the random letters and numbers on your notepad,” Taylor retorted. She appeared in the doorway, her eyes rolling. “Here you are,” she sighed, pushing the pad in Cory’s direction.
Cory looked down at the image in front of her, trying not to pull a face as she tried to work out what exactly it was. “Thanks, Taylor, but um,” she tilted the notebook slightly. “How are fourteen hills, a circus tent and a river going to help us?”
“Circus tent and a river?” Liz repeated, stretching over to examine the sketch. “Looks like the pyramids and the Nile to me.”
“Really?” Colby asked, confused. He was squinting at the drawing, his head cocked. “I see a dead worm in a party hat.”
“A worm?” Taylor replied, snatching the paper back. “It’s a snake, with a helmet thingy, and those hills are gravestones!” Taylor objected, pointing out the parts she was referring to, marginally offended at the fact no one could tell that.
“If you say so,” Charlie muttered, pulling a face at his brother.
“Okay, it’s a snake and some gravestones,” Don agreed, keeping his face neutral. “The relevance is?”
Taylor rolled her eyes, placing the drawing on the table. “That was the unpleasant image that just greeted me,” she told them.
“So now you’re having visions?” Charlie asked her, dryly.
“No, doofas,” Taylor groaned. “It’s a tattoo, and unless Rosa has a mural on her back, my best guess is it is the shooter.”
“You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve heard Charlie be called a doofas,” Liz noted, sharing a grin with Colby.
“Really?” Taylor asked, her eyebrows arched in surprise. “That surprises me.” She pushed the drawing back in Cory’s direction. “Imagine that as a tattoo on the back of a guy.”
“Really use your imagination,” Charlie added.
“I’m thinking gang tat. Does it look familiar?”
Cory stared at the paper, her brows burrowed in concentration. Suddenly her eyes widened. “Of course it does. The snake is the marking of an Aztec Knight. The tombstones represent the number people that he’s killed. I can’t believe I didn’t see that.”
“I can,” Charlie assured her, patting her shoulder. “It’s easy to confuse it with the work of a six year old.”
Taylor, showing her level of maturity, poked her tongue out at the curly haired man. The she turned back to Cory. “Do you think you can narrow it down?” she asked her.
Cory quickly nodded. “I should be able to, thanks. You can get back to your experiment now, if you want?”
Taylor glanced around and seeing a lack of anyone suggesting that she stay and help, she shrugged. “Why not? I’m sure I’ve got a bottle of nail polish in my purse somewhere.” She turned on her heel, striding out the door with Charlie hurrying after her, crying it’s an experiment, not an afternoon in a day spa!
“You really think you can narrow that down to a person?” Colby asked, flicking the drawing he was now holding. He turned it upside down, holding it away from him. “I still think it looks like a dead worm.”
Taylor was trapped. Alright, she admitted. Not trapped – just bored. Despite Charlie’s initial protests, she had slipped her feet out of her sandals and painted her nails a teal, the same colour as her top. Then she had moved onto her finger nails. She’d even offered to do Charlie’s. (That hadn’t been received very well).
It was now dark out and she hadn’t heard anything from Rosa, or from the living people trying to find her killer. Amita had appeared again with some Chinese takeaway and disappeared just as quickly as she had plans to play chess with Charlie’s dad.
“If they weren’t already dead, I would kill them all over again,” Taylor muttered, causing Charlie to look over.
“I’m sorry?”
Taylor sighed, shifting in the chair to get more comfortable. “I’m in LA for Fleet Week. I’m supposed to be spending time with my dad, not stuck in an eleventh story room, testing my patience. Next time a ghost asks, I’m going to say no.”
“They ask?” Charlie asked, his curiosity piqued.
Taylor quickly shook her head. “No, normally they just appear. The dead don’t do vacations.” She paused in her explanation as Flack entered the room, followed by Don. “What’s the matter?” she asked at the same time as Charlie.
“We found the owner of the tattoo,” Don explained.
“Well that’s good news,” Taylor started. She frowned, watching the two Dons. “That’s not good news?”
Don sighed. “We have no evidence to tie him to the shooting or the car. David looked through the CCTV and the only thing we can confirm is that the car drove up and down the street a couple of times before driving off – you can’t see the driver.”
“We were wondering if Rosa had offered something else to you?” Flack asked her.
“Don’t you think I would have been down with it if she had?” Taylor snapped at him. She blinked. “Sorry. No, she hasn’t.” She got up off the chair and glared around the room. “And I’ve had enough of this. Rosa, get your ghostly ass here.”
“I thought they didn’t come when called,” Charlie asked, his tone once again dry.
“They don’t, but I have two fifteen year olds who are going to get me up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to go to Universal Studios. She has two hours before I want to be in bed, so Rosa!”
She appeared, James in tow. “Moody much?” he asked.
“Do not make me find the janitor’s closet and borrow their vacuum cleaner. Because I will,” Taylor warned him. She moved her attention to Rosa. “Right, here’s the deal. You’re dead. We have the guy in custody, but no evidence. You want him to walk, then you keep quiet,” she told her as their eyes locked.
Rosa broke away first and turned, walking to the door, and then through it. “We are going on a walk,” Taylor told them, forgetting about her shoes as she hurried after her. Rosa led her to the stairs and down into the basement.
“You can’t go in there without clearance,” Don called after her as Taylor made to open a door Rosa had just walked through.
“So give me clearance,” Taylor shrugged. “I won’t touch anything.”
Don frowned, glancing at Flack. “She won’t,” he agreed. “She’s usually pretty good at that.”
“And yet you use the word usually,” he muttered, stepping forward to punch in the six digit security code to the door.
The room seemed to contain evidence – close to them, what was left of the burn out car after the fire department had rescued it, busy being processed.
“You don’t even let me in here,” Charlie cried, appearing behind them.
Taylor ignored him, and the lab rats who had turned to stare at the arrivals. Instead she edged towards the car, trying to work out what Rosa was pointing to. Quickly, she scrapped her hair back into a ponytail and reached for a pair of gloves.
The lab rats, who had started protesting, fell silent at Don’s assurance that it was alright and Taylor wasn’t going to remove anything from the car. Taylor opened the driver’s side door. Rosa had seated herself in the passenger seat and was pointing at the gas pedal. Silently, Taylor dropped to her knees, peering into the burnt out area. “Gum,” she announced, her head popping back up.
A guy in an overall moved in, reaching under the pedal and pulled the offending item out. “Gum,” he confirmed.
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Oh, for goodness sake. They would have found that eventually. You can’t believe that the ghost told her that?” he asked his brother.
Don shrugged, staring at the gum. “Regardless, she found it before they did.”
* * *
It was midnight and Taylor was back in the “experiment” room, staring up and counting the tiles in the ceiling. The temperature dropped a couple of degrees, causing her to look down. A small smile spread across her lips as she realized that bother James and Rosa were dressed in white, peaceful looks their face.
“Thank you,” Rosa told her. “I am sorry that I spoiled your vacation.”
“I’ve still got tomorrow,” Taylor shrugged. “I take it the guy confessed?”
Rosa nodded. “You’re going to get told in a couple of minutes – they’re on their way up. I just wanted to say thank you first. And we wanted to give you something as a thank you present,” she added, glancing up at James.
Taylor’s smile grew into a grin as she sat back and listened. With a final wave, Rosa disappeared. “And what about you?” Taylor asked James. “Are you really going?”
James nodded. “I really am. I’m going to go and wait for Cory. Thank you, Taylor. I really appreciated it.”
“No problem,” Taylor told him as she realized that Charlie was looking between her and his computer screen, disbelief and denial in his eyes.
“Oh, Taylor,” James called as he started to fade away. “When he asks, tell him Occam’s Razor.” And then he was gone.
“The temperature dipped,” Charlie told her, his voice accusatory as the door opened and Flack and Don entered.
“As soon as we showed him the gum, he confessed,” Don announced. “Thank you, Taylor.”
“Oh, come on!” Charlie objected. “You would have found that eventually, and then you would have linked the DNA to the suspects.”
“But Taylor did make it happen much more quickly,” Larry announced, appearing from behind the screen and causing Don and Flack to jump.
“That’s Larry,” Taylor told Flack, who was eyeing him suspiciously. “He’s been helping with the experiment.”
“And experiment that you have failed,” Charlie pointed out. “You haven’t managed to name a single object that Larry’s had.”
“No, I suppose I haven’t,” Taylor shrugged.
Flack watched her. It was only small, but there was the beginning of a smile creeping into her eyes. “Oh, this is going to be good,” he whispered to Don, who gave him a confused look.
“Did the temperature drop just now?” she asked Charlie, gathering her belongings together.
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Charlie replied. “It could have been a dip in the air conditioning output.”
Taylor shrugged again, and turned to Larry. “It was nice hiding from you behind a screen,” she told him. “Make sure that when you put the shoe, egg, spanner, pen, mug and paperclip in the bag, that they don’t break the calculator, feather, empty Fanta can, hammer or the photo frame containing a picture of Albert Einstein that has been Photoshopped onto a picture of the NGC 441…” she frowned, then her eyes lit up, “4 galaxy.”
Larry’s mouth dropped open and he turned to look at Charlie, whose mouth was similarly agape. “You must have looked,” Charlie spluttered. “When you were leaving the room, you must have looked.”
“There is no way she would have been able to identify the NGC 4414,” Larry muttered, still staring at her in disbelief.
“You must have looked,” Charlie was repeating, much to the entertainment of his brother.
Taylor’s grin widened into one to rival the Cheshire Cat. “I have two words, Charlie, two words. Occam’s Razor.”
She didn’t think it was possible, but Larry’s mouth dropped open further, and Charlie just froze.
“What’s Occam’s Razor?” Flack asked her.
Taylor shrugged. “Damned if I know, but that’s what I was told to tell him.”
“I know this one,” Don told them, unable to keep from smiling. “That sometimes, the simplest explanation is the easiest.”
As they left the FBI building, and made their way to road to hail a cab, Taylor spotted a familiar face, staring up at the clouds. “I’ll be right back,” she told Flack.
Flack looked over and spotted Cory, his face darkening. “Taylor,” he warned, his voice low.
Taylor whirled around and glared at him. “No,” she told him. “You do not even think it. I am going to have a chat with Cory and you are going to wait here.” Without waiting for a response, she headed over to the bench. “Is this seat taken?”
Cory looked over and gave Taylor a small smile. “No.”
“Are you alright?” Taylor asked her, perching on the cool wooden bench. “I dumped a lot on you yesterday.”
Cory slowly nodded. “I will be. Thank you. It was a lot of things that I think I knew but I didn’t want to hear. I’m glad you told me.”
“And what happens now?” Taylor asked her. “You looking for a home here?”
Cory giggled a little. “Me? Live in the cereal state?” At Taylor’s confused look, she explained, “It’s the land of fruit, nuts and flakes, but to be serious no,” Cory disagreed. “This isn’t home. I don’t know what comes next, but I really am done with the FBI. I think I might head back to my parents for a while. I think I need to see Michael.”
“After that?” Taylor pressed.
Cory shrugged, smiling. “Who knows? But I’m sure I’ll run into you again.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Taylor agreed, looking back at Flack. “I should go. Take care, Corinne Reid.”
“Thank you,” Rosa told her. “I am sorry that I spoiled your vacation.”
“I’ve still got tomorrow,” Taylor shrugged. “I take it the guy confessed?”
Rosa nodded. “You’re going to get told in a couple of minutes – they’re on their way up. I just wanted to say thank you first. And we wanted to give you something as a thank you present,” she added, glancing up at James.
Taylor’s smile grew into a grin as she sat back and listened. With a final wave, Rosa disappeared. “And what about you?” Taylor asked James. “Are you really going?”
James nodded. “I really am. I’m going to go and wait for Cory. Thank you, Taylor. I really appreciated it.”
“No problem,” Taylor told him as she realized that Charlie was looking between her and his computer screen, disbelief and denial in his eyes.
“Oh, Taylor,” James called as he started to fade away. “When he asks, tell him Occam’s Razor.” And then he was gone.
“The temperature dipped,” Charlie told her, his voice accusatory as the door opened and Flack and Don entered.
“As soon as we showed him the gum, he confessed,” Don announced. “Thank you, Taylor.”
“Oh, come on!” Charlie objected. “You would have found that eventually, and then you would have linked the DNA to the suspects.”
“But Taylor did make it happen much more quickly,” Larry announced, appearing from behind the screen and causing Don and Flack to jump.
“That’s Larry,” Taylor told Flack, who was eyeing him suspiciously. “He’s been helping with the experiment.”
“And experiment that you have failed,” Charlie pointed out. “You haven’t managed to name a single object that Larry’s had.”
“No, I suppose I haven’t,” Taylor shrugged.
Flack watched her. It was only small, but there was the beginning of a smile creeping into her eyes. “Oh, this is going to be good,” he whispered to Don, who gave him a confused look.
“Did the temperature drop just now?” she asked Charlie, gathering her belongings together.
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Charlie replied. “It could have been a dip in the air conditioning output.”
Taylor shrugged again, and turned to Larry. “It was nice hiding from you behind a screen,” she told him. “Make sure that when you put the shoe, egg, spanner, pen, mug and paperclip in the bag, that they don’t break the calculator, feather, empty Fanta can, hammer or the photo frame containing a picture of Albert Einstein that has been Photoshopped onto a picture of the NGC 441…” she frowned, then her eyes lit up, “4 galaxy.”
Larry’s mouth dropped open and he turned to look at Charlie, whose mouth was similarly agape. “You must have looked,” Charlie spluttered. “When you were leaving the room, you must have looked.”
“There is no way she would have been able to identify the NGC 4414,” Larry muttered, still staring at her in disbelief.
“You must have looked,” Charlie was repeating, much to the entertainment of his brother.
Taylor’s grin widened into one to rival the Cheshire Cat. “I have two words, Charlie, two words. Occam’s Razor.”
She didn’t think it was possible, but Larry’s mouth dropped open further, and Charlie just froze.
“What’s Occam’s Razor?” Flack asked her.
Taylor shrugged. “Damned if I know, but that’s what I was told to tell him.”
“I know this one,” Don told them, unable to keep from smiling. “That sometimes, the simplest explanation is the easiest.”
As they left the FBI building, and made their way to road to hail a cab, Taylor spotted a familiar face, staring up at the clouds. “I’ll be right back,” she told Flack.
Flack looked over and spotted Cory, his face darkening. “Taylor,” he warned, his voice low.
Taylor whirled around and glared at him. “No,” she told him. “You do not even think it. I am going to have a chat with Cory and you are going to wait here.” Without waiting for a response, she headed over to the bench. “Is this seat taken?”
Cory looked over and gave Taylor a small smile. “No.”
“Are you alright?” Taylor asked her, perching on the cool wooden bench. “I dumped a lot on you yesterday.”
Cory slowly nodded. “I will be. Thank you. It was a lot of things that I think I knew but I didn’t want to hear. I’m glad you told me.”
“And what happens now?” Taylor asked her. “You looking for a home here?”
Cory giggled a little. “Me? Live in the cereal state?” At Taylor’s confused look, she explained, “It’s the land of fruit, nuts and flakes, but to be serious no,” Cory disagreed. “This isn’t home. I don’t know what comes next, but I really am done with the FBI. I think I might head back to my parents for a while. I think I need to see Michael.”
“After that?” Taylor pressed.
Cory shrugged, smiling. “Who knows? But I’m sure I’ll run into you again.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Taylor agreed, looking back at Flack. “I should go. Take care, Corinne Reid.”
Chapter 242 | Contents | Chapter 244 |
Originally posted: 10/12/12