By the time lunch had rolled around, everyone was back from the crime scene. And not a moment too soon, in Taylor’s eyes. The ghost of Scott hadn’t reappeared, so all she had to do was watch Lucinda pour herself over Flack. Not that she could look at Flack… every time she did, her face got so warm, she was sure the fire alarms would go off.
Okay, so she had never actually seen Flack completely naked. But the resemblance between him and Scott was uncanny. Even Mac had mentioned something about it. And whenever Taylor looked at Flack, she just saw him naked. Not that that was a bad thing, but at the same time…
She, Mac and the detective himself had gone down to the morgue to see how Marty was getting on with the DB. And the first thing Taylor noticed was the frosty atmosphere that was radiating off her roommate and towards Flack. Fortunately, it seemed she was the only one to actually notice this.
“What have you got for us, Marty?” Mac asked.
Marty shrugged. “In all honesty, at this moment, very little.”
Taylor caught his eye and frowned, to which Marty gave a very slight shake of his head. It seemed that neither of them had been revisited by Scott since he had awoken them earlier.
“No COD?” asked Mac.
“Well, I can tell you that it is something of the pulmonary nature.” Marty pulled back Scott’s lips to reveal his teeth and gums. “Fraenulum isn’t torn and,” he pulled back the eyelids. “There are Tardieu spots in the conjunctivae and eyelids.”
“What does that mean?” Flack asked, beating Taylor to asking the question.
Instead of responding, Marty just gave him a frosty glare – something which Flack did pick up on this time. Taylor stole a glance at Flack, noting his confused expression – from Marty’s behaviour, rather than from a lack of understanding of the COD. Flack looked over at Taylor, catching her looking, and gave her a look similar to the one Scott had given her. Taylor could feel the blood rushing to her face and quickly looked down.
“Are we talking asphyxiation? Sleep apnoea?” Mac asked.
“It’s very hard to distinguish between an accidental from a homicide,” Marty explained, trying to play devil’s advocate. “The result of closing off the windpipe is the same.”
“It was a murder,” interjected Taylor. She could feel Flack giving her a sharp look, and her face flushed redder. “I wouldn’t have had a visit from his ghost if it was suicide.”
It was at that moment that Scott and Maddy chose to turn up, and as a result, Taylor didn’t notice the pessimistic response Mac was giving her. Her attention was distracted by the fact the Flack doppelganger was still very much naked, and the fact he was holding a bottle of vodka in his hand. Something which at that moment in time, with Flack was standing just that little too close for comfort, Taylor could have done with a shot of.
Instead, she caught Marty’s eye. “Tox report,” they both said at the same time. Maddy and Scott disappeared, Maddy sending Taylor another sly grin before she did.
“Tox report?” Mac repeated looking between the two of them.
Marty coughed and nodded. “Jinx,” he said to Taylor, quickly giving her a forced smile, “I was about to say that I’m going to send a sample off for the tox report.”
Taylor returned the smile. “Great minds think alike, eh?”
Mac gave the two of them another look and shrugged. “Right, I’m going to see what Lindsay has gotten. Page me when the results come in.” He gave Flack a look, who after watching Marty and Taylor suspiciously, he returned with a nod and followed him out of the morgue.
As the door closed behind them, Taylor let out a groan and leaned against the wall, allowing herself to slip down it and sit on the floor, her head resting on her knees. In front of her, Marty managed a chuckle. “You can let the blood return to the rest of your body now.”
“Oh, this is not fair,” Taylor muttered into her knees. “Why is it, everyone else doesn’t have a problem with it, but whenever I see Flack, I’m picturing him naked?”
“Because you have a filthy mind,” Marty offered.
Taylor looked up at him and glared, “Well, at least he wasn’t getting death glares from me too.”
Marty scowled, “I was not sending him death glares!”
“Marty, if looks could kill, I would be talking to his ghost right now. So don’t even try to deny it.”
“Taylor, I –”
Taylor quickly shook her head. “I don’t want an explanation, Marty, just quit it.”
“And this coming from the woman who is trying her hardest to ignore him,” Marty retorted, less than amused.
“I have good reason to.”
“What? That you like him?” Marty asked, pulling a face. “Well I pity the person you don’t like.”
“Alright, so maybe I’m not quite ready to talk to him, but that’s not why I’m trying to ignore him,” Taylor huffed. “It’s the fact that every time I look at him, it takes less time for me to mentally remove his clothes than it does to say ‘ghost’.”
Marty bit his lip, watching her in silence before finally speaking. “Maybe… maybe you should tell him this,” he suggested quietly.
Taylor stared back at him. There was something in his eyes which she couldn’t read and finally sighed, getting to her feet. “Maybe you’re right,” she muttered as she left.
Okay, so she had never actually seen Flack completely naked. But the resemblance between him and Scott was uncanny. Even Mac had mentioned something about it. And whenever Taylor looked at Flack, she just saw him naked. Not that that was a bad thing, but at the same time…
She, Mac and the detective himself had gone down to the morgue to see how Marty was getting on with the DB. And the first thing Taylor noticed was the frosty atmosphere that was radiating off her roommate and towards Flack. Fortunately, it seemed she was the only one to actually notice this.
“What have you got for us, Marty?” Mac asked.
Marty shrugged. “In all honesty, at this moment, very little.”
Taylor caught his eye and frowned, to which Marty gave a very slight shake of his head. It seemed that neither of them had been revisited by Scott since he had awoken them earlier.
“No COD?” asked Mac.
“Well, I can tell you that it is something of the pulmonary nature.” Marty pulled back Scott’s lips to reveal his teeth and gums. “Fraenulum isn’t torn and,” he pulled back the eyelids. “There are Tardieu spots in the conjunctivae and eyelids.”
“What does that mean?” Flack asked, beating Taylor to asking the question.
Instead of responding, Marty just gave him a frosty glare – something which Flack did pick up on this time. Taylor stole a glance at Flack, noting his confused expression – from Marty’s behaviour, rather than from a lack of understanding of the COD. Flack looked over at Taylor, catching her looking, and gave her a look similar to the one Scott had given her. Taylor could feel the blood rushing to her face and quickly looked down.
“Are we talking asphyxiation? Sleep apnoea?” Mac asked.
“It’s very hard to distinguish between an accidental from a homicide,” Marty explained, trying to play devil’s advocate. “The result of closing off the windpipe is the same.”
“It was a murder,” interjected Taylor. She could feel Flack giving her a sharp look, and her face flushed redder. “I wouldn’t have had a visit from his ghost if it was suicide.”
It was at that moment that Scott and Maddy chose to turn up, and as a result, Taylor didn’t notice the pessimistic response Mac was giving her. Her attention was distracted by the fact the Flack doppelganger was still very much naked, and the fact he was holding a bottle of vodka in his hand. Something which at that moment in time, with Flack was standing just that little too close for comfort, Taylor could have done with a shot of.
Instead, she caught Marty’s eye. “Tox report,” they both said at the same time. Maddy and Scott disappeared, Maddy sending Taylor another sly grin before she did.
“Tox report?” Mac repeated looking between the two of them.
Marty coughed and nodded. “Jinx,” he said to Taylor, quickly giving her a forced smile, “I was about to say that I’m going to send a sample off for the tox report.”
Taylor returned the smile. “Great minds think alike, eh?”
Mac gave the two of them another look and shrugged. “Right, I’m going to see what Lindsay has gotten. Page me when the results come in.” He gave Flack a look, who after watching Marty and Taylor suspiciously, he returned with a nod and followed him out of the morgue.
As the door closed behind them, Taylor let out a groan and leaned against the wall, allowing herself to slip down it and sit on the floor, her head resting on her knees. In front of her, Marty managed a chuckle. “You can let the blood return to the rest of your body now.”
“Oh, this is not fair,” Taylor muttered into her knees. “Why is it, everyone else doesn’t have a problem with it, but whenever I see Flack, I’m picturing him naked?”
“Because you have a filthy mind,” Marty offered.
Taylor looked up at him and glared, “Well, at least he wasn’t getting death glares from me too.”
Marty scowled, “I was not sending him death glares!”
“Marty, if looks could kill, I would be talking to his ghost right now. So don’t even try to deny it.”
“Taylor, I –”
Taylor quickly shook her head. “I don’t want an explanation, Marty, just quit it.”
“And this coming from the woman who is trying her hardest to ignore him,” Marty retorted, less than amused.
“I have good reason to.”
“What? That you like him?” Marty asked, pulling a face. “Well I pity the person you don’t like.”
“Alright, so maybe I’m not quite ready to talk to him, but that’s not why I’m trying to ignore him,” Taylor huffed. “It’s the fact that every time I look at him, it takes less time for me to mentally remove his clothes than it does to say ‘ghost’.”
Marty bit his lip, watching her in silence before finally speaking. “Maybe… maybe you should tell him this,” he suggested quietly.
Taylor stared back at him. There was something in his eyes which she couldn’t read and finally sighed, getting to her feet. “Maybe you’re right,” she muttered as she left.
* * *
Taylor found Lindsay in one of the evidence rooms analysing a pillow cover. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for a death mask,” Lindsay told her, spraying a sheet of paper with some form of liquid and then pressing it down on the fabric.
“What’s a death mask?” Taylor asked, sitting down opposite.
Lindsay pulled the paper away and re-sprayed it. It revealed a very eerie looking face. “It’s what’s left behind on something if it has been pressed against someone’s face.”
“So she suffocated him?” Taylor asked slowly.
“It looks like it,” Lindsay nodded.
“I knew it,” Taylor muttered.
“Can I ask you something?” Lindsay asked suddenly.
Taylor looked over cautiously, “What?”
Lindsay bit her lip, “Does… does Danny ever talk about me?”
“Um…” Taylor mimicked Lindsay in biting her lip – what was the right answer to that? “What do you mean?”
Lindsay sighed, “I don’t know. He asked me out for dinner, and then you and Flack appeared, and then he walked me home… I don’t know,” she repeated, “I’m just getting so many different signals from him. I was just wondering, considering how close you too are, if he had said something to you.”
“Well, I, uh...I can ask him, if you like?” Taylor suggested, not actually answering the question.
“Never mind,” said Lindsay quickly. “I think I am just over-analyzing nothing.” She pulled out her cell phone, “I think it’s about time we had a little chat with Lucinda.”
“Looking for a death mask,” Lindsay told her, spraying a sheet of paper with some form of liquid and then pressing it down on the fabric.
“What’s a death mask?” Taylor asked, sitting down opposite.
Lindsay pulled the paper away and re-sprayed it. It revealed a very eerie looking face. “It’s what’s left behind on something if it has been pressed against someone’s face.”
“So she suffocated him?” Taylor asked slowly.
“It looks like it,” Lindsay nodded.
“I knew it,” Taylor muttered.
“Can I ask you something?” Lindsay asked suddenly.
Taylor looked over cautiously, “What?”
Lindsay bit her lip, “Does… does Danny ever talk about me?”
“Um…” Taylor mimicked Lindsay in biting her lip – what was the right answer to that? “What do you mean?”
Lindsay sighed, “I don’t know. He asked me out for dinner, and then you and Flack appeared, and then he walked me home… I don’t know,” she repeated, “I’m just getting so many different signals from him. I was just wondering, considering how close you too are, if he had said something to you.”
“Well, I, uh...I can ask him, if you like?” Taylor suggested, not actually answering the question.
“Never mind,” said Lindsay quickly. “I think I am just over-analyzing nothing.” She pulled out her cell phone, “I think it’s about time we had a little chat with Lucinda.”
* * *
“You were at the crime scene earlier, weren’t you?”
Taylor, who was standing in the elevator, pulled herself away from the wall she was leaning against, as Lucinda walked in and stared at her. Taylor stared back. Despite it being the middle of the day, Lucinda was dressed like she was about to go out. Ridiculously high heels, short skirt, tiny top, make-up and immaculate hair.
The only thing that stopped Taylor rolling her eyes at her was the fact she had just referred to the crime scene as a crime scene. Considering she had awoken to find the dead body of the man she had slept with next to her, she seemed to be taking this remarkably well. Instead, Taylor nodded at her. “Where is that cute detective?”
“The one that looks like your dead lover?” Taylor asked, maybe a little too icily.
Lucinda arched her perfect eyebrows at her, “Yes.”
Refusing to lower herself and say the snarky little comment she was dying to, Taylor responded politely, “I suspect he is either on the thirty-eighth floor discussing the case with the CSIs, or, he’s next door at his desk in the precinct, following a lead.”
Lucinda nodded as the elevator doors pinged open. She stood, waiting expectantly. Taylor stepped past her, waiting until she was behind her to roll her eyes, and walked down the corridor. Sure enough, Flack was talking to Lindsay, just outside one of the layout rooms. They stopped when they noticed Taylor and Lucinda heading in their direction.
“Detective Flack,” Lucinda purred.
Taylor managed to catch the appreciative look on Flack’s face, before the mental image of Scott’s ghost flickered into her mind, and she had to look away.
“Can I help you, ma’am?
“Please,” she said, resting her hand on Flack’s arm. “Call me Lucinda. You make me feel old.”
“I’m glad you turned up,” said Lindsay, “We have a few questions we would like to ask you.”
“I suspected that would be the case,” nodded Lucinda, barely taking her eyes of Flack, “I’m afraid I wasn’t completely honest earlier.”
Now, why wasn’t Taylor surprised?
Taylor, who was standing in the elevator, pulled herself away from the wall she was leaning against, as Lucinda walked in and stared at her. Taylor stared back. Despite it being the middle of the day, Lucinda was dressed like she was about to go out. Ridiculously high heels, short skirt, tiny top, make-up and immaculate hair.
The only thing that stopped Taylor rolling her eyes at her was the fact she had just referred to the crime scene as a crime scene. Considering she had awoken to find the dead body of the man she had slept with next to her, she seemed to be taking this remarkably well. Instead, Taylor nodded at her. “Where is that cute detective?”
“The one that looks like your dead lover?” Taylor asked, maybe a little too icily.
Lucinda arched her perfect eyebrows at her, “Yes.”
Refusing to lower herself and say the snarky little comment she was dying to, Taylor responded politely, “I suspect he is either on the thirty-eighth floor discussing the case with the CSIs, or, he’s next door at his desk in the precinct, following a lead.”
Lucinda nodded as the elevator doors pinged open. She stood, waiting expectantly. Taylor stepped past her, waiting until she was behind her to roll her eyes, and walked down the corridor. Sure enough, Flack was talking to Lindsay, just outside one of the layout rooms. They stopped when they noticed Taylor and Lucinda heading in their direction.
“Detective Flack,” Lucinda purred.
Taylor managed to catch the appreciative look on Flack’s face, before the mental image of Scott’s ghost flickered into her mind, and she had to look away.
“Can I help you, ma’am?
“Please,” she said, resting her hand on Flack’s arm. “Call me Lucinda. You make me feel old.”
“I’m glad you turned up,” said Lindsay, “We have a few questions we would like to ask you.”
“I suspected that would be the case,” nodded Lucinda, barely taking her eyes of Flack, “I’m afraid I wasn’t completely honest earlier.”
Now, why wasn’t Taylor surprised?
* * *
“So what is it you would like to tell us?” Lindsay asked Lucinda, as Taylor watched the interview from behind the mirror.
“Where would you like me to start?” Lucinda asked Flack. She was still barely registering Lindsay.
“How about with the scratch marks,” Flack suggested, indicating to the scratches on her arms.
Lucinda smiled, “I have a very healthy sexual appetite,” she told them, a slight smirk on her face. “And I have no trouble in expressing it during sex. And neither did Scott.”
“Alright,” said Lindsay as she pulled out a photograph of the death mask and laid it front of her. “Then how do you explain the death mask?”
“What’s a death mask?” Lucinda asked Flack.
Lindsay slammed her hand on the photograph, “Ms Garner, I would appreciate it if you would acknowledge the both of us,” she demanded as Lucinda jumped.
“What’s a death mask?” Lucinda repeated, giving Lindsay an icy glare.
“It’s what was left behind on the pillow you used to press down over Scott and suffocate him.”
Lucinda smiled. “Is this what the problem is?” she asked.
“You have an explanation for it?”
‘Scott… Scott liked me to hold it over him as he orgasmed. He said it heightened his sexual experience. So technically, yes, I did hold the pillow over his face, but I didn’t kill him. I couldn’t. He’s far too strong for me anyway. It would have taken nothing for him to fling him off me.”
Lindsay and Flack exchanged looks.
“Alright, Ms Garner,” said Flack, “That’s all we have for now.
“Where would you like me to start?” Lucinda asked Flack. She was still barely registering Lindsay.
“How about with the scratch marks,” Flack suggested, indicating to the scratches on her arms.
Lucinda smiled, “I have a very healthy sexual appetite,” she told them, a slight smirk on her face. “And I have no trouble in expressing it during sex. And neither did Scott.”
“Alright,” said Lindsay as she pulled out a photograph of the death mask and laid it front of her. “Then how do you explain the death mask?”
“What’s a death mask?” Lucinda asked Flack.
Lindsay slammed her hand on the photograph, “Ms Garner, I would appreciate it if you would acknowledge the both of us,” she demanded as Lucinda jumped.
“What’s a death mask?” Lucinda repeated, giving Lindsay an icy glare.
“It’s what was left behind on the pillow you used to press down over Scott and suffocate him.”
Lucinda smiled. “Is this what the problem is?” she asked.
“You have an explanation for it?”
‘Scott… Scott liked me to hold it over him as he orgasmed. He said it heightened his sexual experience. So technically, yes, I did hold the pillow over his face, but I didn’t kill him. I couldn’t. He’s far too strong for me anyway. It would have taken nothing for him to fling him off me.”
Lindsay and Flack exchanged looks.
“Alright, Ms Garner,” said Flack, “That’s all we have for now.
* * *
“So what is it you would like to tell us?” Lindsay asked Lucinda, as Taylor watched the interview from behind the mirror.
“Where would you like me to start?” Lucinda asked Flack. She was still barely registering Lindsay.
“How about with the scratch marks,” Flack suggested, indicating to the scratches on her arms.
Lucinda smiled, “I have a very healthy sexual appetite,” she told them, a slight smirk on her face. “And I have no trouble in expressing it during sex. And neither did Scott.”
“Alright,” said Lindsay as she pulled out a photograph of the death mask and laid it front of her. “Then how do you explain the death mask?”
“What’s a death mask?” Lucinda asked Flack.
Lindsay slammed her hand on the photograph, “Ms Garner, I would appreciate it if you would acknowledge the both of us,” she demanded as Lucinda jumped.
“What’s a death mask?” Lucinda repeated, giving Lindsay an icy glare.
“It’s what was left behind on the pillow you used to press down over Scott and suffocate him.”
Lucinda smiled. “Is this what the problem is?” she asked.
“You have an explanation for it?”
‘Scott… Scott liked me to hold it over him as he orgasmed. He said it heightened his sexual experience. So technically, yes, I did hold the pillow over his face, but I didn’t kill him. I couldn’t. He’s far too strong for me anyway. It would have taken nothing for him to fling him off me.”
Lindsay and Flack exchanged looks.
“Alright, Ms Garner,” said Flack, “That’s all we have for now.
“Where would you like me to start?” Lucinda asked Flack. She was still barely registering Lindsay.
“How about with the scratch marks,” Flack suggested, indicating to the scratches on her arms.
Lucinda smiled, “I have a very healthy sexual appetite,” she told them, a slight smirk on her face. “And I have no trouble in expressing it during sex. And neither did Scott.”
“Alright,” said Lindsay as she pulled out a photograph of the death mask and laid it front of her. “Then how do you explain the death mask?”
“What’s a death mask?” Lucinda asked Flack.
Lindsay slammed her hand on the photograph, “Ms Garner, I would appreciate it if you would acknowledge the both of us,” she demanded as Lucinda jumped.
“What’s a death mask?” Lucinda repeated, giving Lindsay an icy glare.
“It’s what was left behind on the pillow you used to press down over Scott and suffocate him.”
Lucinda smiled. “Is this what the problem is?” she asked.
“You have an explanation for it?”
‘Scott… Scott liked me to hold it over him as he orgasmed. He said it heightened his sexual experience. So technically, yes, I did hold the pillow over his face, but I didn’t kill him. I couldn’t. He’s far too strong for me anyway. It would have taken nothing for him to fling him off me.”
Lindsay and Flack exchanged looks.
“Alright, Ms Garner,” said Flack, “That’s all we have for now.
* * *
She’s lying,” said Taylor later as her and Lindsay were sat at a computer. “And I don’t need a ghost to tell me that.”
“I found a motive,” said Flack from the doorway. He walked in and leant against the desk, “I spoke to Scott’s wife.”
“Scott was married? But he had no ring.”
“According to the wife, the two were having problems, but he didn’t give any indication that there was another woman, nor that he was going to leave her.”
Lindsay frowned, “We have a motive, but no evidence that she did it.”
“So where does that leave us?” Flack asked her.
Lindsay smiled, “I think it leaves us with a little bit of role play. And the good news is that I’m going to need both of you.”
Taylor looked at Lindsay, then to Flack, and, as she caught his eye, turned bright red. She looked away, hoping the role playing Lindsay had in mind was not what she thought it would be.
“I found a motive,” said Flack from the doorway. He walked in and leant against the desk, “I spoke to Scott’s wife.”
“Scott was married? But he had no ring.”
“According to the wife, the two were having problems, but he didn’t give any indication that there was another woman, nor that he was going to leave her.”
Lindsay frowned, “We have a motive, but no evidence that she did it.”
“So where does that leave us?” Flack asked her.
Lindsay smiled, “I think it leaves us with a little bit of role play. And the good news is that I’m going to need both of you.”
Taylor looked at Lindsay, then to Flack, and, as she caught his eye, turned bright red. She looked away, hoping the role playing Lindsay had in mind was not what she thought it would be.
Originally posted 16/07/2006