Mac walked over to the taped off area with Stella and approached Flack who was stood waiting patiently. Sheldon was already there, photographing the body which was laying face down in the dirt. “What have we got?” he asked the other detective.
“Early morning joggers found her this morning,” Flack told them, pointing to two middle age men who looked like they were trying to lose weight. “Called the police. First officer couldn’t find the pulse. Looks like she’s been out here all night. Couldn’t find any ID on her.”
Mac nodded and went over to the two joggers with Flack, leaving Stella to help Sheldon. “Cold morning,” she said to him as she rubbed at her arms. “You wouldn’t think it was the middle of July.”
Sheldon stopped taking photos and pointed to the ground and a crushed phone. “She has one of those new Nokia’s. That one has an mp3 player in it. Like Taylor has. She probably never heard the attackers.”
Stella sighed. “Probably never saw them either,” she said, indicating to a sack over the victim’s head. “Who goes running in Central Park at night time?” She looked down at the dishevelled clothes. “We’re going to have to do a sexual assault kit. Are you ready for me to turn her?”
Sheldon nodded and bought the camera back to his eye as Stella flipped the woman over. He took a couple of pictures and stopped. "Stella, is her chest moving?”
Stella looked carefully at her, “Mac, get a paramedic!” she yelled. She was about to pull the bag off when Sheldon stopped her and pointed at a the plaster cast which had been revealed as she had been turned over.
“Early morning joggers found her this morning,” Flack told them, pointing to two middle age men who looked like they were trying to lose weight. “Called the police. First officer couldn’t find the pulse. Looks like she’s been out here all night. Couldn’t find any ID on her.”
Mac nodded and went over to the two joggers with Flack, leaving Stella to help Sheldon. “Cold morning,” she said to him as she rubbed at her arms. “You wouldn’t think it was the middle of July.”
Sheldon stopped taking photos and pointed to the ground and a crushed phone. “She has one of those new Nokia’s. That one has an mp3 player in it. Like Taylor has. She probably never heard the attackers.”
Stella sighed. “Probably never saw them either,” she said, indicating to a sack over the victim’s head. “Who goes running in Central Park at night time?” She looked down at the dishevelled clothes. “We’re going to have to do a sexual assault kit. Are you ready for me to turn her?”
Sheldon nodded and bought the camera back to his eye as Stella flipped the woman over. He took a couple of pictures and stopped. "Stella, is her chest moving?”
Stella looked carefully at her, “Mac, get a paramedic!” she yelled. She was about to pull the bag off when Sheldon stopped her and pointed at a the plaster cast which had been revealed as she had been turned over.
* * *
Taylor slowly came around to find she had a pounding headache. She was about to try and open her eyes when someone started shouting. Her eyes flew open to find she still had the bag over her head. Sensing someone stood near her, she kicked out. She was rewarded by a metallic crack and glass breaking and a shout of pain. Which was quickly followed by someone trying to restrain her as she struggled against them.
“Taylor!” A familiar voice shouted at her.
Taylor stopped moving and allowed someone to take the bag off. She was blinded as the light came flooding to her eyes. She could hear a lot of swearing and movement as sight slowly returned to her. The first thing she saw was Mac crouched down in front of her. She flung herself at him and was relieved to find him holding her. She turned her head into him and shut her eyes tightly, aware she was shivering violently, and equally aware it wasn’t just from the cold, nor was she able to control it.
A jacket was draped over her shoulders and she allowed herself to be led over to Mac’s car and be seated in the passenger seat, where the ignition was switched on to blast heat at her. Mac took a step back and allowed Stella to come in. “What happened?” she asked her, gently placing a hand on Taylor’s bare leg.
Taylor opened her eyes and stared at the hand. “I was angry.” She started, taking a deep breath. “I tried to drink the anger away the day before, but last night I decided the best way for me to vent is to change the anger into energy.”
Behind Mac, Sheldon made a sound. Taylor looked over at him and the broken camera he was holding, “I am so sorry,” she muttered before staring at the ground. “Short of punching the crap out of a punching bag, the only other thing I can manage is running, so I went running. It was about nine when I left.” She shut her eyes and leant her head back against the headrest. “I ran for about an hour, I checked my phone at ten past ten.” She sighed. “The phone isn’t in one piece, is it?”
After no one told her otherwise, she continued, “I was going to catch my breath before heading back when someone stuck the bag over my head. My phone was taken off me and my arms twisted behind my back and I was, well, rammed head first into a tree.” She raised her hand to her forehead and gingerly touched it, wincing at the pain. When she looked at her hand there was blood covering it.
“There were at least three people there. Two of them spoke to me and they were definitely New York accents. Um, I dug my nails into one of them,” she added, still looking at her hands, she realised they were shaking, and she quickly closed them into fists. “And there was a car. And then I got smacked in the back of the head.”
“We need to get you to a hospital,” said Stella.
“No, I’m fine.” Taylor told her.
“Taylor, you need to get checked out. You were attacked. We really need to get a Sexual ass-”
“I wasn’t raped.” Taylor told them shortly.
“Taylor, a traumatic event like this can affect your memory.” Said Mac.
“I would have thought, for starters, that that account I’d just given you was a clear indication that my memory was fine. And I know I wasn’t raped. This was nothing to do with a rape, or a mugging,” she told them.
“What makes you so sure?” Stella asked her.
Taylor frowned. “About what? The fact I wasn’t raped, or the fact I know it wasn’t about rape.”
Stella shrugged. “Both.”
“The two men that spoke to me.”
“What did they say?” Mac asked, his eyebrows knitting together.
“Keep out of our business,” Taylor told them. “It’s pretty clear. It’s a warning.”
“This is to do with the gang case Danny came to me with,” said Mac. It was a statement, not a question.
“I think so.” Taylor got up and out of the car, walking past Stella. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to find myself a new phone, get changed, a shower, perhaps a bit of food, then I’m going to help you find the people that did this so that I can kick the crap out of them.”
“Taylor,” Mac called after her.
Taylor stopped, took a deep breath and turned around, “I know I’m not a CSI or a cop, or anything, Mac,” she told him, her stare meeting his. “But I don’t want to be treated as a victim, and I don’t want to be punished for it either.” She turned back around to find Flack standing in front of her. She rolled her eyes at him and turned back round to Mac.
“Taylor, I want you to wait for the paramedics and let them check you out. I think you’re going to need stitches.”
“Fine,” she agreed, knowing she wasn’t going to win that battle.
“Get seen by a medic, then I want you to go home with Stella and Flack,” Mac continued. “They’ll make sure your clothes get bagged up. Have a shower and a rest.”
“Do you want your jacket back?” she asked him.
Mac shook his head and watched her walk off to the ambulance which was just pulling up, accompanied by Flack. He turned to Stella and Sheldon. “We need to get these guys.”
“Are you sure she should be on this case?” Stella asked him, a little surprised by Mac’s reaction.
“No. It’s going against my better judgement, even though she’s not actually going to do any work. You know that, and I know that. But we both also know, that if we don’t keep an eye on her, she’ll end up tracking them down herself, like she did with Janice Brown, and next time, she probably won’t be as lucky,” he sighed. “Besides, at least this way we can keep an eye on her.”
“Taylor!” A familiar voice shouted at her.
Taylor stopped moving and allowed someone to take the bag off. She was blinded as the light came flooding to her eyes. She could hear a lot of swearing and movement as sight slowly returned to her. The first thing she saw was Mac crouched down in front of her. She flung herself at him and was relieved to find him holding her. She turned her head into him and shut her eyes tightly, aware she was shivering violently, and equally aware it wasn’t just from the cold, nor was she able to control it.
A jacket was draped over her shoulders and she allowed herself to be led over to Mac’s car and be seated in the passenger seat, where the ignition was switched on to blast heat at her. Mac took a step back and allowed Stella to come in. “What happened?” she asked her, gently placing a hand on Taylor’s bare leg.
Taylor opened her eyes and stared at the hand. “I was angry.” She started, taking a deep breath. “I tried to drink the anger away the day before, but last night I decided the best way for me to vent is to change the anger into energy.”
Behind Mac, Sheldon made a sound. Taylor looked over at him and the broken camera he was holding, “I am so sorry,” she muttered before staring at the ground. “Short of punching the crap out of a punching bag, the only other thing I can manage is running, so I went running. It was about nine when I left.” She shut her eyes and leant her head back against the headrest. “I ran for about an hour, I checked my phone at ten past ten.” She sighed. “The phone isn’t in one piece, is it?”
After no one told her otherwise, she continued, “I was going to catch my breath before heading back when someone stuck the bag over my head. My phone was taken off me and my arms twisted behind my back and I was, well, rammed head first into a tree.” She raised her hand to her forehead and gingerly touched it, wincing at the pain. When she looked at her hand there was blood covering it.
“There were at least three people there. Two of them spoke to me and they were definitely New York accents. Um, I dug my nails into one of them,” she added, still looking at her hands, she realised they were shaking, and she quickly closed them into fists. “And there was a car. And then I got smacked in the back of the head.”
“We need to get you to a hospital,” said Stella.
“No, I’m fine.” Taylor told her.
“Taylor, you need to get checked out. You were attacked. We really need to get a Sexual ass-”
“I wasn’t raped.” Taylor told them shortly.
“Taylor, a traumatic event like this can affect your memory.” Said Mac.
“I would have thought, for starters, that that account I’d just given you was a clear indication that my memory was fine. And I know I wasn’t raped. This was nothing to do with a rape, or a mugging,” she told them.
“What makes you so sure?” Stella asked her.
Taylor frowned. “About what? The fact I wasn’t raped, or the fact I know it wasn’t about rape.”
Stella shrugged. “Both.”
“The two men that spoke to me.”
“What did they say?” Mac asked, his eyebrows knitting together.
“Keep out of our business,” Taylor told them. “It’s pretty clear. It’s a warning.”
“This is to do with the gang case Danny came to me with,” said Mac. It was a statement, not a question.
“I think so.” Taylor got up and out of the car, walking past Stella. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to find myself a new phone, get changed, a shower, perhaps a bit of food, then I’m going to help you find the people that did this so that I can kick the crap out of them.”
“Taylor,” Mac called after her.
Taylor stopped, took a deep breath and turned around, “I know I’m not a CSI or a cop, or anything, Mac,” she told him, her stare meeting his. “But I don’t want to be treated as a victim, and I don’t want to be punished for it either.” She turned back around to find Flack standing in front of her. She rolled her eyes at him and turned back round to Mac.
“Taylor, I want you to wait for the paramedics and let them check you out. I think you’re going to need stitches.”
“Fine,” she agreed, knowing she wasn’t going to win that battle.
“Get seen by a medic, then I want you to go home with Stella and Flack,” Mac continued. “They’ll make sure your clothes get bagged up. Have a shower and a rest.”
“Do you want your jacket back?” she asked him.
Mac shook his head and watched her walk off to the ambulance which was just pulling up, accompanied by Flack. He turned to Stella and Sheldon. “We need to get these guys.”
“Are you sure she should be on this case?” Stella asked him, a little surprised by Mac’s reaction.
“No. It’s going against my better judgement, even though she’s not actually going to do any work. You know that, and I know that. But we both also know, that if we don’t keep an eye on her, she’ll end up tracking them down herself, like she did with Janice Brown, and next time, she probably won’t be as lucky,” he sighed. “Besides, at least this way we can keep an eye on her.”
* * *
Taylor waited for the ambulance to stop and watched as two familiar faces stepped out. She cringed inwardly whilst managing to keep her face impassive and smiled at the two medics. “Hi guys.”
“Taylor?” asked the driver.
“Hi Doc.” She followed him to the back of the bus and waited for him to open the door so she could get in and on a stretcher.
“What happened?” asked his partner, Kim, as she wrapped a blanket around the shivering journalist. The two were old friends of Marty, back from the days he was an intern at Mercy, and the two had been around for drinks before.
“My head collided with a tree,” she told them as she sat down.
Kim sat opposite her and looked at the cut. “This looks deep. It’s going to need stitches. And when was your last tetanus shot?”
Doc shook his head at the expression on Taylor’s face. “I’ll do it, Kim. Pass me the child friendly stitches and some saline.”
Taylor watched as Kim handed him a pot of saline and some swabs and allowed him to clean the cut up, trying not to wince too much. “I didn’t know you covered this area.”
“Ugh,” said Doc. “New procedures and such. We’re spread out thin enough as it is.”
“Carlos doesn’t seem to be complaining much.”
“That’s because Doc paired him up with some bimbo who worships the ground he walks on,” grumbled Kim.
“The other option is to have him working with you.” Doc told her. “Are you still living with Marty?” he asked Taylor. Taylor nodded. Doc frowned and stared at the wound, “Taylor, this blood. Not all of its fresh.”
“No, some of its probably eight hours old by now,” she sighed. Here was the conversation she was dreading.
“You did this last night?” Doc asked her. Taylor nodded. “So why didn’t you get this treated sooner.”
“I wasn’t conscious,” she mumbled.
“You spent the night in the Park?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, wincing.
“I thought you said your head collided with a tree?” Kim said, as she pulled a blanket off a shelf and draped it around her.
“It did,” Taylor agreed, chewing at her lip. “Only it was kinda pushed there by someone.”
“What were you doing in the Park at that time of night anyway?” Doc exploded.
“I had an argument with Marty so I went running to clear my head,” Taylor quickly explained.
“I am going to kill him!” cried Doc.
“Doc, Marty didn’t do this to me and he didn’t make me go running,” Taylor told him firmly. “I made the decision myself. And yes, I know it was stupid.”
“Stupid doesn’t even begin to describe it.” The three of them turned around to find Flack standing in the doorway.
“Boyfriend?” asked Kim.
“Hell no!” they both cried. “Flack, get out and leave me alone!” Taylor added.
“Are you sure nothing is going on between you two?” Kim asked as Flack stormed off.
“Am I done yet?” Taylor snapped.
“Yeah,” said Doc, stepping back. “And I don’t want to see you in here again.”
“You’re better off seeing me in there then at my funeral,” Taylor told him as she stepped down from the bus.
“That is not something to be joking about,” said Flack, stepping around from the side of the ambulance, Stella in tow, looking equal disapproving.
“Uh huh. Right, I am going home and getting out of these shorts, because I am freezing.” Looking at the expressions on their faces Taylor stopped and leant against the ambulance. “I’m sorry. I just want to go home and have a shower, and start to feel something like I was yesterday. I don’t want to stand around feeling victimised or treated with kid gloves.” She sighed, “I just don’t want to think about what happened.”
Stella put her arm around Taylor, “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“Taylor?” asked the driver.
“Hi Doc.” She followed him to the back of the bus and waited for him to open the door so she could get in and on a stretcher.
“What happened?” asked his partner, Kim, as she wrapped a blanket around the shivering journalist. The two were old friends of Marty, back from the days he was an intern at Mercy, and the two had been around for drinks before.
“My head collided with a tree,” she told them as she sat down.
Kim sat opposite her and looked at the cut. “This looks deep. It’s going to need stitches. And when was your last tetanus shot?”
Doc shook his head at the expression on Taylor’s face. “I’ll do it, Kim. Pass me the child friendly stitches and some saline.”
Taylor watched as Kim handed him a pot of saline and some swabs and allowed him to clean the cut up, trying not to wince too much. “I didn’t know you covered this area.”
“Ugh,” said Doc. “New procedures and such. We’re spread out thin enough as it is.”
“Carlos doesn’t seem to be complaining much.”
“That’s because Doc paired him up with some bimbo who worships the ground he walks on,” grumbled Kim.
“The other option is to have him working with you.” Doc told her. “Are you still living with Marty?” he asked Taylor. Taylor nodded. Doc frowned and stared at the wound, “Taylor, this blood. Not all of its fresh.”
“No, some of its probably eight hours old by now,” she sighed. Here was the conversation she was dreading.
“You did this last night?” Doc asked her. Taylor nodded. “So why didn’t you get this treated sooner.”
“I wasn’t conscious,” she mumbled.
“You spent the night in the Park?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, wincing.
“I thought you said your head collided with a tree?” Kim said, as she pulled a blanket off a shelf and draped it around her.
“It did,” Taylor agreed, chewing at her lip. “Only it was kinda pushed there by someone.”
“What were you doing in the Park at that time of night anyway?” Doc exploded.
“I had an argument with Marty so I went running to clear my head,” Taylor quickly explained.
“I am going to kill him!” cried Doc.
“Doc, Marty didn’t do this to me and he didn’t make me go running,” Taylor told him firmly. “I made the decision myself. And yes, I know it was stupid.”
“Stupid doesn’t even begin to describe it.” The three of them turned around to find Flack standing in the doorway.
“Boyfriend?” asked Kim.
“Hell no!” they both cried. “Flack, get out and leave me alone!” Taylor added.
“Are you sure nothing is going on between you two?” Kim asked as Flack stormed off.
“Am I done yet?” Taylor snapped.
“Yeah,” said Doc, stepping back. “And I don’t want to see you in here again.”
“You’re better off seeing me in there then at my funeral,” Taylor told him as she stepped down from the bus.
“That is not something to be joking about,” said Flack, stepping around from the side of the ambulance, Stella in tow, looking equal disapproving.
“Uh huh. Right, I am going home and getting out of these shorts, because I am freezing.” Looking at the expressions on their faces Taylor stopped and leant against the ambulance. “I’m sorry. I just want to go home and have a shower, and start to feel something like I was yesterday. I don’t want to stand around feeling victimised or treated with kid gloves.” She sighed, “I just don’t want to think about what happened.”
Stella put her arm around Taylor, “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Originally posted: 23/06/2006