Taylor arrived at the crime lab the following morning after only a few hours sleep. Taylor had gotten back from the crime scene at quite a late hour, and halfway through the night, she had awoken to find the yet-to-be-named ghost watching her sleep. Of course she told him there was nothing she could do until the morning – she couldn’t run any evidence, and Mac had insisted that she go home and get some sleep – and of course, his response had been the usual “help us.”
She had showered, straightened her hair, and dressed in her usual combat and camisole attire, and had called in at a Starbucks on her way into the Lab. She was busy drinking her hot chocolate when she walked into the break room – she still had to be shown where anything other than a computer lab and the locker rooms were. The younger, female CSI was already in there, yawning over a cup of coffee. “Lindsay, right?”
Lindsay smiled, “Yeah. What are you doing back here?”
Taylor sighed, “I got another visit from a ghost.”
“Oh… Right.”
Another CSI that was too scientifically minded to believe in something such as a ghost. Ah well, perhaps solving this case would help. “Could you point me in the direction of either Mac, or Stella?”
“I’m behind you,” said Stella – and she was, standing in the doorway, “Mac is running the prints off the DB. I’m going to the morgue for a COD and TOD, if you would care to join me? You can stay here if you don’t feel like facing the body again.”
It was a very, very tempting offer. Taylor sighed, “No, I’d better come. He might appear and tell me something.” She frowned, “Actually, if he appears, he’s only going to say the same two words, but he might show me something.”
Stella shrugged, “Whatever you want. But you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
Taylor nodded and followed her to the lift, and down to the basement where the morgue was. Never having been in a morgue before, Taylor was under the impression it would be a lot darker than it was, even though she knew the coroners needed a lot of light. Even so, she was still surprised when she walked in.
Just as they reached the inner door to the actual morgue – as opposed to a waiting/reception room – the door opened. A man who looked like he would be more at home at a sports game of some description, rather than leaving wearing a lab coat, came through.
“Morning, Marty. Shift finished?” Stella greeted him.
“Yeah, now I can go home and watch last night’s game. Sid’s waiting for you.” He smiled and stood to one side, holding the door open. Stella smiled and walked through. Taylor did the same, but not before she noticed him giving her the once over. She returned the motion – he was cute – then followed Stella into the Morgue.
Stella was stood next to a table with the dead body on, the coroner on the other side as Taylor walked over and joined them.
“Sid, this is Taylor Turner, she’s a-”
“Stella, dear, I know who Miss Turner is,” he offered his hand out. Taylor eyed it warily. “Don’t worry, my dear, it’s clean.” She hesitated, but took it. Instead of shaking it, he brought it up to his lips and kissed it. “Miss Turner, it is an honour.”
“Sid, are you flirting with my journalist?”
He grinned at Stella, “Two beautiful ladies in my morgue? Of course I’m flirting. Christmas has come early. Or late, depending on how you look at it,” he told them with a smile. He pulled on a pair of gloves, and snapped his glasses on, before pulling the sheet back to reveal the victim’s head. “John Doe died around between 8 and 9 last night.”
“8:30,” corrected Taylor.
Sid glanced up at her, over the top of his glasses, “I’m sorry?”
“Oh,” said Taylor, realizing she said that out loud, “Sorry, I was taking mental notes, and, uh, went for the middle time.” She told him quickly, ignoring the gaze she was getting from Stella.
“We can’t be that specific with the time, Miss Turner,” said Sid.
“Sorry,” she apologised, hoping he would drop it.
With a final glance over the top of his glasses, Sid did actually drop it. “He didn’t die quickly,” he continued, pulling back the sheet further to reveal a still open Y-incision.
Taylor swallowed. She had never seen someone’s organ’s before. It was not a pretty sight.
“He was burnt alive. High traces of soot in his lungs. But it wasn’t the smoke that killed him.”
“Any other injuries?” Stella asked, with a quick glance at the very pale journalist stood next to her.
“Blow to the side of the head,” he told her, turning the vic’s head for a better view. Taylor stood back – she really didn’t need to see that too.
“From the looks of things, the blow came from behind,” Sid told them as he handed Stella an envelope containing pictures of the head wound. “There’s also some trace,” he grabbed a pair of tweezers and picked a fleck out.
Taylor could see the spec of whatever pull away from the bloody gash, sticking slightly to the blood, as he handed the piece over to Stella who had a piece of paper ready to collect it. She swallowed and took another small step back.
“It was the blow that killed him. It seems like the blow knocked him out, but the fire revived him. All the evidence shows that he put the fire out himself.”
“Anything else?” Stella asked.
Sid shook his head. “No other markings on him. All in all, he was in good health.”
“Right,” said Stella, “We’ll go get this processed.”
“Come back soon, both of you,” smiled Sid, as he took of his glasses. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Turner.”
“You too,” Taylor only just managed, before she practically ran out of the door. She was leaning against a wall when Stella caught up with her.
“You alright?”
Taylor nodded. She had managed to keep her churning stomach under control.
“Why did you say 8:30?”
“I was in the middle of dinner when his ghost appeared. I was out of there by 8:40, so he appeared about 8:30. Couldn’t appear if he was alive.”
Stella nodded.
The two of them went back upstairs and into Mac’s office. He had just gotten off the phone as they sat down. “I ran the prints – nothing in the system. However,” he said looking at Taylor, “You were right about the medal. We ran his blood, there wasn’t a direct match, but we did find a relative in the army records. Lt. Neil Craig. I just got off the ‘phone with his unit commander – he’s currently stationed out in Iraq, but he was awarded a medal for his efforts.”
“A Southwest Asia Service Medal?”
Mac nodded, “The very same. He also has a brother. They gave me the contact details for his mother.”
“So where does that leave us?” Taylor asked.
“The evidence.” said Mac.
“With breakfast,” said Flack, as he entered the room holding up a big brown paper bag, and carrying a cardboard tray with four takeaway cups of coffee. “Bacon sandwiches, extra crispy,” he told them, placing the bag down in front of Taylor.
Taylor could feel the blood rushing from her head, as her stomach started churning. If it wasn’t for the fact she could sense she was about thirty second away from bringing up the content of her stomach and had already made a dash out of the door – she could hear Flack laughing – she would have thrown something at him. With her head down the toilet bowl, she realised that it would be a very long time before she would be able to eat either French food or bacon again. And with that thought, she started throwing up.
She was sat on the cold tiled floor, still close to the toilet, when Stella came in and offered her a bottle of water.
“This isn’t something that you have to get used to, you know,” she told her, “It’s not your job.”
“Not by choice,” Taylor muttered, as she took a swig. “These ghosts visit me for a reason, Stella, and I don’t know why. They scare me a little, and they show me things I never want to see, but will never be able to forget, and I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
Stella crouched down next to her, “You really believe you see them, don’t you?”
Taylor sighed, shut her eyes and rested her head against the wall, “I did some research, after the first time... after Rebecca. There are lots of explanations for sightings – geographical shifts, temperature changes, faulty electronics… but there are some things that cannot be explained.” She paused, “I really don’t know why they come to me, and given half the chance I would pass this thing on to someone else. Dead bodies creep me out.”
“I want to believe you, Taylor. But I just can’t.”
Taylor got to her feet and headed to the sink. “It’s alright,” she said sadly, “I only just believe it half the time.”
“We’ll be back in Mac’s office, when you’re ready.”
Taylor nodded as the older woman left, and began to throw some water on her face. Leaning against the sink with both hands, she stared at her reflection, watching the water drip off her face. She frowned – maybe the ghosts had gotten the wrong person. Sure she was accepting the fact that she was seeing ghosts – admittedly she had her moments of weakness, but for the most part, she had accepted that fact. But the actual dead bodies? The frown deepened. Only time would tell.
She had showered, straightened her hair, and dressed in her usual combat and camisole attire, and had called in at a Starbucks on her way into the Lab. She was busy drinking her hot chocolate when she walked into the break room – she still had to be shown where anything other than a computer lab and the locker rooms were. The younger, female CSI was already in there, yawning over a cup of coffee. “Lindsay, right?”
Lindsay smiled, “Yeah. What are you doing back here?”
Taylor sighed, “I got another visit from a ghost.”
“Oh… Right.”
Another CSI that was too scientifically minded to believe in something such as a ghost. Ah well, perhaps solving this case would help. “Could you point me in the direction of either Mac, or Stella?”
“I’m behind you,” said Stella – and she was, standing in the doorway, “Mac is running the prints off the DB. I’m going to the morgue for a COD and TOD, if you would care to join me? You can stay here if you don’t feel like facing the body again.”
It was a very, very tempting offer. Taylor sighed, “No, I’d better come. He might appear and tell me something.” She frowned, “Actually, if he appears, he’s only going to say the same two words, but he might show me something.”
Stella shrugged, “Whatever you want. But you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
Taylor nodded and followed her to the lift, and down to the basement where the morgue was. Never having been in a morgue before, Taylor was under the impression it would be a lot darker than it was, even though she knew the coroners needed a lot of light. Even so, she was still surprised when she walked in.
Just as they reached the inner door to the actual morgue – as opposed to a waiting/reception room – the door opened. A man who looked like he would be more at home at a sports game of some description, rather than leaving wearing a lab coat, came through.
“Morning, Marty. Shift finished?” Stella greeted him.
“Yeah, now I can go home and watch last night’s game. Sid’s waiting for you.” He smiled and stood to one side, holding the door open. Stella smiled and walked through. Taylor did the same, but not before she noticed him giving her the once over. She returned the motion – he was cute – then followed Stella into the Morgue.
Stella was stood next to a table with the dead body on, the coroner on the other side as Taylor walked over and joined them.
“Sid, this is Taylor Turner, she’s a-”
“Stella, dear, I know who Miss Turner is,” he offered his hand out. Taylor eyed it warily. “Don’t worry, my dear, it’s clean.” She hesitated, but took it. Instead of shaking it, he brought it up to his lips and kissed it. “Miss Turner, it is an honour.”
“Sid, are you flirting with my journalist?”
He grinned at Stella, “Two beautiful ladies in my morgue? Of course I’m flirting. Christmas has come early. Or late, depending on how you look at it,” he told them with a smile. He pulled on a pair of gloves, and snapped his glasses on, before pulling the sheet back to reveal the victim’s head. “John Doe died around between 8 and 9 last night.”
“8:30,” corrected Taylor.
Sid glanced up at her, over the top of his glasses, “I’m sorry?”
“Oh,” said Taylor, realizing she said that out loud, “Sorry, I was taking mental notes, and, uh, went for the middle time.” She told him quickly, ignoring the gaze she was getting from Stella.
“We can’t be that specific with the time, Miss Turner,” said Sid.
“Sorry,” she apologised, hoping he would drop it.
With a final glance over the top of his glasses, Sid did actually drop it. “He didn’t die quickly,” he continued, pulling back the sheet further to reveal a still open Y-incision.
Taylor swallowed. She had never seen someone’s organ’s before. It was not a pretty sight.
“He was burnt alive. High traces of soot in his lungs. But it wasn’t the smoke that killed him.”
“Any other injuries?” Stella asked, with a quick glance at the very pale journalist stood next to her.
“Blow to the side of the head,” he told her, turning the vic’s head for a better view. Taylor stood back – she really didn’t need to see that too.
“From the looks of things, the blow came from behind,” Sid told them as he handed Stella an envelope containing pictures of the head wound. “There’s also some trace,” he grabbed a pair of tweezers and picked a fleck out.
Taylor could see the spec of whatever pull away from the bloody gash, sticking slightly to the blood, as he handed the piece over to Stella who had a piece of paper ready to collect it. She swallowed and took another small step back.
“It was the blow that killed him. It seems like the blow knocked him out, but the fire revived him. All the evidence shows that he put the fire out himself.”
“Anything else?” Stella asked.
Sid shook his head. “No other markings on him. All in all, he was in good health.”
“Right,” said Stella, “We’ll go get this processed.”
“Come back soon, both of you,” smiled Sid, as he took of his glasses. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Turner.”
“You too,” Taylor only just managed, before she practically ran out of the door. She was leaning against a wall when Stella caught up with her.
“You alright?”
Taylor nodded. She had managed to keep her churning stomach under control.
“Why did you say 8:30?”
“I was in the middle of dinner when his ghost appeared. I was out of there by 8:40, so he appeared about 8:30. Couldn’t appear if he was alive.”
Stella nodded.
The two of them went back upstairs and into Mac’s office. He had just gotten off the phone as they sat down. “I ran the prints – nothing in the system. However,” he said looking at Taylor, “You were right about the medal. We ran his blood, there wasn’t a direct match, but we did find a relative in the army records. Lt. Neil Craig. I just got off the ‘phone with his unit commander – he’s currently stationed out in Iraq, but he was awarded a medal for his efforts.”
“A Southwest Asia Service Medal?”
Mac nodded, “The very same. He also has a brother. They gave me the contact details for his mother.”
“So where does that leave us?” Taylor asked.
“The evidence.” said Mac.
“With breakfast,” said Flack, as he entered the room holding up a big brown paper bag, and carrying a cardboard tray with four takeaway cups of coffee. “Bacon sandwiches, extra crispy,” he told them, placing the bag down in front of Taylor.
Taylor could feel the blood rushing from her head, as her stomach started churning. If it wasn’t for the fact she could sense she was about thirty second away from bringing up the content of her stomach and had already made a dash out of the door – she could hear Flack laughing – she would have thrown something at him. With her head down the toilet bowl, she realised that it would be a very long time before she would be able to eat either French food or bacon again. And with that thought, she started throwing up.
She was sat on the cold tiled floor, still close to the toilet, when Stella came in and offered her a bottle of water.
“This isn’t something that you have to get used to, you know,” she told her, “It’s not your job.”
“Not by choice,” Taylor muttered, as she took a swig. “These ghosts visit me for a reason, Stella, and I don’t know why. They scare me a little, and they show me things I never want to see, but will never be able to forget, and I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
Stella crouched down next to her, “You really believe you see them, don’t you?”
Taylor sighed, shut her eyes and rested her head against the wall, “I did some research, after the first time... after Rebecca. There are lots of explanations for sightings – geographical shifts, temperature changes, faulty electronics… but there are some things that cannot be explained.” She paused, “I really don’t know why they come to me, and given half the chance I would pass this thing on to someone else. Dead bodies creep me out.”
“I want to believe you, Taylor. But I just can’t.”
Taylor got to her feet and headed to the sink. “It’s alright,” she said sadly, “I only just believe it half the time.”
“We’ll be back in Mac’s office, when you’re ready.”
Taylor nodded as the older woman left, and began to throw some water on her face. Leaning against the sink with both hands, she stared at her reflection, watching the water drip off her face. She frowned – maybe the ghosts had gotten the wrong person. Sure she was accepting the fact that she was seeing ghosts – admittedly she had her moments of weakness, but for the most part, she had accepted that fact. But the actual dead bodies? The frown deepened. Only time would tell.
Originally posted: 13/05/2006