Spoilers for 2x14: Stuck On You
By the time she had taken the elevator up to the thirty-eighth floor, Stella had returned to the Crime Lab, had even managed to get changed out of her slinky black cocktail dress, and was trying to plug something into her computer.
“Hey, Taylor. What brings you here?” Stella greeted her. “Are you here to help with the case.”
Taylor shook her head. “No, I’m after Frankie’s number, actually.”
Stella smiled. “Are you trying to steal my boyfriend off me?”
Taylor smiled back. “I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to. The guy has got it bad for you.”
Stella’s smile widened. “He has, hasn’t he?”
“The friend I was supposed to be there with tonight wanted to meet him. Something about doing an article on Frankie and his work, but as he couldn’t make it, I guess he wants to arrange to meet him some other time,” Taylor explained. Stella pulled out her phone and found Frankie’s number, handing the cell over to Taylor who quickly copied it down. “Thanks Stell.”
“I’ve slept with a lot of women. Some wild, some crazy, some both.”
Taylor and Stella turned around to find Flack.
“Excuse me?” asked Taylor.
“Taylor?” said Flack, looking just as startled as Taylor did. “I wasn’t expecting you here. Carlo’s words,” he quickly explained. “Not mine”
“Ah,” said Stella, nodding in understanding.
“You shoulda swung by the hospital to meet this guy,” Flack explained. “He’s a piece of work. He calls himself the new American playboy. Lives, drinks and breaths women.” Taylor and Stella looked at each other. “Again, his words,” Flack hurriedly added. “So with that in mind, as far as jealous ex’s go – a lot of them.”
“Looks like Carlo has emerged as our primary target,” nodded Stella.
Flack laughed. “Five minutes into the interview, and I wanted to kill him.” He looked down at the names and pictures that were appearing on the computer. “What’s all this?”
“Hang on,” said Taylor, “I have Mirabella’s autopsy report from Marty for you.”
“And the results of her pubic combing,” added Stella, as she leafed through the folder.
Flack leant over and read the paper. “Two foreign pubic hair samples. Now there’s a party. Who were the guests?”
“The first sample is Carlo, the other was a female,” Stella read aloud.
“Ok, only Carlo and Mirabella were on the patio,” Flack started, then stopped. He turned to face Taylor. “And you,” he added.
“Thank you for that charming assumption,” Taylor glared at him. “However, I prefer to sleep with just the one person, for starters. On top of all that, I believe I was fully clothed, and Carlo hadn’t gotten around to removing his pants when I found them.”
“Sorry,” Flack apologized, having the grace to look a little embarrassed. “So you’re thinking that the hair must be transfer from one of his past girlfriends,” he said to Stella, ignoring her raised eyebrow. “Which is why you’re now snooping through Carlo’s little black book.”
Stella nodded. “The women listed here, are his reason for living. Alphabetized by first name.”
Flack frowned. “Forget player – stalker’s more like it.”
“We’ve got Amanda, 21. Aubrey, age 19. Alexis, age 26. And scouting reports. This is page one of the A’s. It goes all the way to Z.”
Flack nodded his head slowly. “Carlo’s all about the details, isn’t he?”
“Flack!” exclaimed Taylor in surprise.
“Commenting, not condoning,” he added hurriedly.
“Uh huh,” said Stella. “Pubic hairs are not like fossils. They don’t hang around forever. Which makes Carlo’s day planner very interesting.” She brought up a picture of a pretty black girl, decked out in running gear. “Sienna. Before the party yesterday, Carlo blocked out three hours to be with her.”
“Sheep’s Meadow, Central Park,” Flack peered in at the screen. “She may kill me but it’ll be worth it.”
“Yeah,” scoffed Taylor. “I doubt Mirabella felt the same way.”
“Right,” said Flack. “I shall go and find her for us.” He left quickly.
“You seemed a little upset back there,” Stella said, turning to Taylor.
Taylor frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Stella smiled coyly at her. “Never mind.”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “You had better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking, Stella,” she muttered, before also leaving.
“Hey, Taylor. What brings you here?” Stella greeted her. “Are you here to help with the case.”
Taylor shook her head. “No, I’m after Frankie’s number, actually.”
Stella smiled. “Are you trying to steal my boyfriend off me?”
Taylor smiled back. “I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to. The guy has got it bad for you.”
Stella’s smile widened. “He has, hasn’t he?”
“The friend I was supposed to be there with tonight wanted to meet him. Something about doing an article on Frankie and his work, but as he couldn’t make it, I guess he wants to arrange to meet him some other time,” Taylor explained. Stella pulled out her phone and found Frankie’s number, handing the cell over to Taylor who quickly copied it down. “Thanks Stell.”
“I’ve slept with a lot of women. Some wild, some crazy, some both.”
Taylor and Stella turned around to find Flack.
“Excuse me?” asked Taylor.
“Taylor?” said Flack, looking just as startled as Taylor did. “I wasn’t expecting you here. Carlo’s words,” he quickly explained. “Not mine”
“Ah,” said Stella, nodding in understanding.
“You shoulda swung by the hospital to meet this guy,” Flack explained. “He’s a piece of work. He calls himself the new American playboy. Lives, drinks and breaths women.” Taylor and Stella looked at each other. “Again, his words,” Flack hurriedly added. “So with that in mind, as far as jealous ex’s go – a lot of them.”
“Looks like Carlo has emerged as our primary target,” nodded Stella.
Flack laughed. “Five minutes into the interview, and I wanted to kill him.” He looked down at the names and pictures that were appearing on the computer. “What’s all this?”
“Hang on,” said Taylor, “I have Mirabella’s autopsy report from Marty for you.”
“And the results of her pubic combing,” added Stella, as she leafed through the folder.
Flack leant over and read the paper. “Two foreign pubic hair samples. Now there’s a party. Who were the guests?”
“The first sample is Carlo, the other was a female,” Stella read aloud.
“Ok, only Carlo and Mirabella were on the patio,” Flack started, then stopped. He turned to face Taylor. “And you,” he added.
“Thank you for that charming assumption,” Taylor glared at him. “However, I prefer to sleep with just the one person, for starters. On top of all that, I believe I was fully clothed, and Carlo hadn’t gotten around to removing his pants when I found them.”
“Sorry,” Flack apologized, having the grace to look a little embarrassed. “So you’re thinking that the hair must be transfer from one of his past girlfriends,” he said to Stella, ignoring her raised eyebrow. “Which is why you’re now snooping through Carlo’s little black book.”
Stella nodded. “The women listed here, are his reason for living. Alphabetized by first name.”
Flack frowned. “Forget player – stalker’s more like it.”
“We’ve got Amanda, 21. Aubrey, age 19. Alexis, age 26. And scouting reports. This is page one of the A’s. It goes all the way to Z.”
Flack nodded his head slowly. “Carlo’s all about the details, isn’t he?”
“Flack!” exclaimed Taylor in surprise.
“Commenting, not condoning,” he added hurriedly.
“Uh huh,” said Stella. “Pubic hairs are not like fossils. They don’t hang around forever. Which makes Carlo’s day planner very interesting.” She brought up a picture of a pretty black girl, decked out in running gear. “Sienna. Before the party yesterday, Carlo blocked out three hours to be with her.”
“Sheep’s Meadow, Central Park,” Flack peered in at the screen. “She may kill me but it’ll be worth it.”
“Yeah,” scoffed Taylor. “I doubt Mirabella felt the same way.”
“Right,” said Flack. “I shall go and find her for us.” He left quickly.
“You seemed a little upset back there,” Stella said, turning to Taylor.
Taylor frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Stella smiled coyly at her. “Never mind.”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “You had better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking, Stella,” she muttered, before also leaving.
* * *
She had taken six steps out onto the street when her cell rang again. “I’ve just sent you his number,” Taylor said, without even looking at the caller ID.
“Um, Taylor, its… Mac.”
“Oh, sorry. I thought you were somebody from work… my work.”
“I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
“Sure,”Taylor agreed hesitantly. She could count all of the times Mac had asked her for a favour on one hand.
“Can you come to the seventeenth floor?”
“Yeah, I’m on my way.”
The seventeenth floor, it turned out, housed the firing range. Taylor put on the goggles and ear muffs she was given and walked down the row to the end cubicle where Mac was housed, firing a bow and arrow.
“A bow and arrow?” she asked him, eyebrow raised questioningly. “I don’t know whether to be impressed, or worried.”
“Hold fire!” Mac shouted to the room. Around them, there were various clicks as the men and women in the room but their weapon’s safety’s on. “Your turn,” Mac told her, handing her the bow. “This bow and arrow’s identical to our murder weapon.”
Taylor stared at him. “Mac, I’ve never fired one of these before. I’ve never even fired a gun before.”
“Exactly” Mac agreed. “You’re perfect to add context to the evidence.”
“Which is?” Taylor asked.
“Jaguar blood.”
“Jaguar blood?” Taylor repeated, blinking.
Mac nodded. “It makes me think our killer’s a hunter. Yet the suspect, Sienna, works a desk all day.” He handed her the bow. “Put your hand there, three fingers right here.” Taylor did as he said. “Pull back.”
“So, it stands to reason,” said Taylor as she took aim, “That if I can use this, so can Sienna?”
Mac nodded again. “Give it your best shot.”
Taylor shrugged and released the bow. It flew through the air and connected with board, just missing a bulls eye. “Whoa! That’s awesome!” Taylor exclaimed. “And easy. I think Sienna could have done it.”
Mac smiled. “So do I.”
Taylor whirled around. “Can I have another?”
“You’ve proven a point,” Mac told her.
“I know,” Taylor responded. “But that was fun.”
“If you want, but I’m going to have to go and see Lindsay.”
Taylor smiled and reloaded another arrow as the other Taylor left. She was actually finding this really fun. And, Mac had asked her for help.
A few rounds later, and Taylor was interrupted by her cell phone again. “Hello?”
“Hey Taylor, it’s Omar again. Thank you for the number.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I have a question for you.”
Taylor frowned, “Go ahead.”
“Is there any chance you could get me an interview with Mac Taylor?”
“Um… why?” Taylor asked. Crime was her area... and Mac?
“Well, Carol Williams has flown in from Chicago.”
“Who’s she?” Taylor asked in confusion.
“Jazz player.”
Taylor was even more confused. “And this concerns Mac, how?”
“She’s playing with his band at Cozy’s, tonight.”
Taylor licked her lips, “Look, Omar, can I cash in on that favour you owe me for Frankie’s number?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t make a big deal over Mac. He’s a very private person and I really don’t think he’d appreciate it.”
Omar sighed, “Only because I owe you, Taylor.”
“Um, Taylor, its… Mac.”
“Oh, sorry. I thought you were somebody from work… my work.”
“I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
“Sure,”Taylor agreed hesitantly. She could count all of the times Mac had asked her for a favour on one hand.
“Can you come to the seventeenth floor?”
“Yeah, I’m on my way.”
The seventeenth floor, it turned out, housed the firing range. Taylor put on the goggles and ear muffs she was given and walked down the row to the end cubicle where Mac was housed, firing a bow and arrow.
“A bow and arrow?” she asked him, eyebrow raised questioningly. “I don’t know whether to be impressed, or worried.”
“Hold fire!” Mac shouted to the room. Around them, there were various clicks as the men and women in the room but their weapon’s safety’s on. “Your turn,” Mac told her, handing her the bow. “This bow and arrow’s identical to our murder weapon.”
Taylor stared at him. “Mac, I’ve never fired one of these before. I’ve never even fired a gun before.”
“Exactly” Mac agreed. “You’re perfect to add context to the evidence.”
“Which is?” Taylor asked.
“Jaguar blood.”
“Jaguar blood?” Taylor repeated, blinking.
Mac nodded. “It makes me think our killer’s a hunter. Yet the suspect, Sienna, works a desk all day.” He handed her the bow. “Put your hand there, three fingers right here.” Taylor did as he said. “Pull back.”
“So, it stands to reason,” said Taylor as she took aim, “That if I can use this, so can Sienna?”
Mac nodded again. “Give it your best shot.”
Taylor shrugged and released the bow. It flew through the air and connected with board, just missing a bulls eye. “Whoa! That’s awesome!” Taylor exclaimed. “And easy. I think Sienna could have done it.”
Mac smiled. “So do I.”
Taylor whirled around. “Can I have another?”
“You’ve proven a point,” Mac told her.
“I know,” Taylor responded. “But that was fun.”
“If you want, but I’m going to have to go and see Lindsay.”
Taylor smiled and reloaded another arrow as the other Taylor left. She was actually finding this really fun. And, Mac had asked her for help.
A few rounds later, and Taylor was interrupted by her cell phone again. “Hello?”
“Hey Taylor, it’s Omar again. Thank you for the number.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I have a question for you.”
Taylor frowned, “Go ahead.”
“Is there any chance you could get me an interview with Mac Taylor?”
“Um… why?” Taylor asked. Crime was her area... and Mac?
“Well, Carol Williams has flown in from Chicago.”
“Who’s she?” Taylor asked in confusion.
“Jazz player.”
Taylor was even more confused. “And this concerns Mac, how?”
“She’s playing with his band at Cozy’s, tonight.”
Taylor licked her lips, “Look, Omar, can I cash in on that favour you owe me for Frankie’s number?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t make a big deal over Mac. He’s a very private person and I really don’t think he’d appreciate it.”
Omar sighed, “Only because I owe you, Taylor.”
* * *
Taylor headed back upstairs. This piece of information was something she wanted to share with Lindsay, especially after overhearing her and Danny’s exchange in the morgue.
“Let me know what you get with on that,” Mac’s voice drifted out of one of the trace labs – Taylor was beginning to familiarize herself with the layout of the thirty-eighth floor – before the owner of the voice walked out. Taylor shot him an I know something that you don’t look, which clearly puzzled him, before joining Lindsay and Danny.
“He wanted to see the guitars,” Lindsay was telling Danny.
Taylor smiled. It was the same Mac Taylor, then.
Danny shrugged and smiled at Taylor, before continuing. “Blood from the vic’s jacket. Turns out to be female.”
Lindsay also shot Taylor a smile. “That rules out Patrick.”
“And Gus Drude, for now.”
Lindsay looked at the q-tip she was holding, “Maybe this swab will tell us something.”
Danny nodded and licked his lips, “So, you wanna go see Rough Sects?”
“Excuse me?” Taylor blurted out. Lindsay was doing a much better job of keep a neutral face than she was, “Rough sex? Danny!”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Drew,” Danny smirked. “Rough Sects. It’s a band. What are you doing back?”
“Nice to see you too, Messer,” said Taylor, sending him a withering look. “But I’m here to chat to Lindsay.”
“I get the picture,” Danny said, commenting on her pointed glare, “I’ll meet you downstairs in a few, Montana.” He walked out of the lab before Lindsay had a chance to correct him on her name.
“I take it back,” Lindsay muttered, “I don’t like the nickname.”
Taylor grinned wickedly, “Wanna get one up on ol” Danny boy?”
“What have you got in mind?” Lindsay asked her suspiciously.
“Guess what Mac is doing tonight.”
“Let me know what you get with on that,” Mac’s voice drifted out of one of the trace labs – Taylor was beginning to familiarize herself with the layout of the thirty-eighth floor – before the owner of the voice walked out. Taylor shot him an I know something that you don’t look, which clearly puzzled him, before joining Lindsay and Danny.
“He wanted to see the guitars,” Lindsay was telling Danny.
Taylor smiled. It was the same Mac Taylor, then.
Danny shrugged and smiled at Taylor, before continuing. “Blood from the vic’s jacket. Turns out to be female.”
Lindsay also shot Taylor a smile. “That rules out Patrick.”
“And Gus Drude, for now.”
Lindsay looked at the q-tip she was holding, “Maybe this swab will tell us something.”
Danny nodded and licked his lips, “So, you wanna go see Rough Sects?”
“Excuse me?” Taylor blurted out. Lindsay was doing a much better job of keep a neutral face than she was, “Rough sex? Danny!”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Drew,” Danny smirked. “Rough Sects. It’s a band. What are you doing back?”
“Nice to see you too, Messer,” said Taylor, sending him a withering look. “But I’m here to chat to Lindsay.”
“I get the picture,” Danny said, commenting on her pointed glare, “I’ll meet you downstairs in a few, Montana.” He walked out of the lab before Lindsay had a chance to correct him on her name.
“I take it back,” Lindsay muttered, “I don’t like the nickname.”
Taylor grinned wickedly, “Wanna get one up on ol” Danny boy?”
“What have you got in mind?” Lindsay asked her suspiciously.
“Guess what Mac is doing tonight.”
* * *
She contemplated going home, but Taylor was curious as to what was happening with the Franchetti case, so she headed in the direction of Mac’s office. Instead of finding him alone, he was with Stella and Sheldon.
“What can I do for you, Taylor?” he asked as soon as he spotted her.
“Curiosity, more than anything.”
“You know what curiosity did to the cat, don’t you?”
Taylor smiled, “Good job I’m not a cat, isn’t I?”
Mac smiled back, “Let's see what you think, then. If Carlo owned the bow and arrow, where did he keep it?”
Taylor shrugged, “Well, the obvious place would be somewhere in his home, surely.”
Stella nodded, “Forget about the black book. Anyone with access to his house could be a suspect.”
“Okay,” agreed Sheldon. “He’s only been back from Peru for a few days, which means the same for the bow and arrow. Odds are, we’re looking for someone at the party.” Sheldon and Mac turned to stare at Stella.
“Right,” said Stella. “Well, my prints aren’t going to match. Promise,” she told them, hold her hands up.
“Yeah, I believe you. It’s the rest of the guests I don’t trust.” Mac told her.
“Thanks,” said Taylor.
“Is there something you want to confess to?” Sheldon asked her with a grin.
“Yeah, it was me,” said Taylor, deadpan.
Sheldon laughed, “There were a few hundred people invited to the party. Unless someone RSVP'd as murderer, how do we know who’s important?”
“To answer that, we have to know where in the house the bow was first taken from,” Mac told them.
“The arrow was coated with an acetone-based cleaner.” It was places like this that Taylor got lost. Instead of saying anything, she just smiled and nodded.
“I’m going to pack the vapour detectors,” Stella said. “Taylor, do you want something to do?”
“It depends what you have in mind,” she replied, suspiciously.
“What can I do for you, Taylor?” he asked as soon as he spotted her.
“Curiosity, more than anything.”
“You know what curiosity did to the cat, don’t you?”
Taylor smiled, “Good job I’m not a cat, isn’t I?”
Mac smiled back, “Let's see what you think, then. If Carlo owned the bow and arrow, where did he keep it?”
Taylor shrugged, “Well, the obvious place would be somewhere in his home, surely.”
Stella nodded, “Forget about the black book. Anyone with access to his house could be a suspect.”
“Okay,” agreed Sheldon. “He’s only been back from Peru for a few days, which means the same for the bow and arrow. Odds are, we’re looking for someone at the party.” Sheldon and Mac turned to stare at Stella.
“Right,” said Stella. “Well, my prints aren’t going to match. Promise,” she told them, hold her hands up.
“Yeah, I believe you. It’s the rest of the guests I don’t trust.” Mac told her.
“Thanks,” said Taylor.
“Is there something you want to confess to?” Sheldon asked her with a grin.
“Yeah, it was me,” said Taylor, deadpan.
Sheldon laughed, “There were a few hundred people invited to the party. Unless someone RSVP'd as murderer, how do we know who’s important?”
“To answer that, we have to know where in the house the bow was first taken from,” Mac told them.
“The arrow was coated with an acetone-based cleaner.” It was places like this that Taylor got lost. Instead of saying anything, she just smiled and nodded.
“I’m going to pack the vapour detectors,” Stella said. “Taylor, do you want something to do?”
“It depends what you have in mind,” she replied, suspiciously.
* * *
“It’s nothing taxing,” Stella was explaining. “Basically, this image,” she had one of the artworks on the computer in front of her. “Is made up of hundreds of other images. All you have to do is work out what the other images are.” Taylor nodded. Seemed easy enough.
* * *
A couple of hours later, and Taylor was actually having fun. From one artwork, she had established the overall image of a woman was Sienna, made up from smaller images of her, another was another woman she didn’t recognize, and she was just finishing up on the third when Mac and Stella appeared.
“Sienna, Cassie, and Mirabella,” said Mac.
“Good job, Taylor,” Stella told her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Gives a whole new meaning to the term art lover,” she added to Mac.
Mac nodded, “This was a crime of passion. And it had everything to do with her.”
“You know who did it?” Taylor asked them.
Stella nodded, “I think we do.”
“Good,” she yawned, “Now, I have had very little sleep for a while now,” she told them, “I’m going home.”
“Sienna, Cassie, and Mirabella,” said Mac.
“Good job, Taylor,” Stella told her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Gives a whole new meaning to the term art lover,” she added to Mac.
Mac nodded, “This was a crime of passion. And it had everything to do with her.”
“You know who did it?” Taylor asked them.
Stella nodded, “I think we do.”
“Good,” she yawned, “Now, I have had very little sleep for a while now,” she told them, “I’m going home.”
Taylor had every intention of going to Cozy’s that evening to do a little reconnaissance work. She wanted to see what Lindsay had done with the juicy little piece of information she had given her, and also, she was curious herself about Mac’s musical talent. However, after she’d slipped into something a little more comfortable – her pyjamas – and sat down on the couch to watch an episode or two of Sex and the City, she had fallen fast asleep.
For the first time in a long time, she didn’t awaken when Marty returned. Nor did she awaken as he packed up. And she most definitely didn’t awaken when he scooped her up and tucked her up in her own bed, before he left for the airport.
For the first time in a long time, she didn’t awaken when Marty returned. Nor did she awaken as he packed up. And she most definitely didn’t awaken when he scooped her up and tucked her up in her own bed, before he left for the airport.
Originally posted: 07/06/2006