Standing in front of her mirror, Taylor was exhausted after spending the last six nights at the hospital with Danny. Louie was finally doing better, but he had once again slipped into a coma. The doctors were hopeful he was going to reawaken – it was just his body’s way of shutting down to recover. She couldn’t remember how the doctor had worded it, as she had been awake for the best part of fifty hours when he had.
Mr and Mrs Messer had brought a couple of things with them and were currently staying in Danny’s apartment, closer to the hospital. The night before, as she was sat with him and his unconscious brother, Danny had confessed he was going to have to get back to work. Sitting around just waiting, was slowly killing him – he needed something to occupy his time.
Currently, she was running her hands through her wavy hair, and despite the fatigue which wracked her body, she was both happy and excited. Her father’s ship had docked in New York for Fleet Week, rather than California, and he had called her the night before requesting she meet him at Central Park for families day.
The weather was still warm enough for a short, black gypsy skirt and a red gypsy top – despite the Italian heritage, she was looking very gypsy like, what with the tan and dark hair. She practically skipped her way in the sun, to the Park. It had been the best part of six years – graduation from college – when she had last seen her father.
He wasn’t hard to find. He was a good head taller than most, measuring in at six foot, five inches, and unlike the Navy men around him, who were in their off duty uniforms, he was fully dressed in his navy blue captain’s uniform, several medals adorning his chest, and his shoes so shiny you could see your reflection in him.
“Daddy!” Taylor yelled excitedly, launching herself at him.
Captain Jack Turner wrapped his arms tightly around his baby daughter and kissed the top of her head. He hugged her tightly before stepping back. “Let me get a look at you.” Taylor grinned and twirled. Captain Turner smiled happily. “You are turning into a beautiful young woman,” he told her. “You look so much like your mother when I met her.” He grasped at her hand and the two of them started walking. “Speaking of your mother, she has requested that I ask you why you are not married yet?” he asked her, a twinkle in his eye. Taylor grinned back at him. “I haven’t seen you in six years and she’s still asking about that,” he chuckled.
“Still? Try weekly,” Taylor added, rolling her eyes.
“Now Taylor,” he chided. “You know what she’s like. She gets it off her mother.” He frowned. “You do realise that if she were a cop, she would run a background check on any potential suitor, not that not being would stop her from trying.”
Taylor pulled a face. “Did you just say, suitor?”
Captain Taylor smiled, “I’m an old fashioned man. Forgive me.”
Taylor squeezed his hand. “How long are you here for?”
“Unfortunately, just until early tomorrow evening, when I have to leave for D.C.”
“But it’s Fleet Week, Daddy,” she pouted.
“I’m sorry, Taylor. I tried to talk them out of it.”
Taylor sighed. “Are they stationing you back in the Middle East?”
Captain Turner sighed, a gesture so similar to Taylor’s, it was clear they were related. “It looks like it.” He hugged Taylor. “Now, enough of that,” he said in reference to her disappointed face. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
Taylor had just filled him in on her job at the paper, Maddy’s death, helping the CSI’s, even about Louie, and was about to attempt to tell him about seeing ghosts when she was prevented from doing so by a scream.
Captain Turner leapt to his feet, like many of the military personnel around him, and dashed off in the direction of the scream. Ignoring her father’s requests that she stay where she was, Taylor dashed after him, pulling her phone from her pocket.
Mr and Mrs Messer had brought a couple of things with them and were currently staying in Danny’s apartment, closer to the hospital. The night before, as she was sat with him and his unconscious brother, Danny had confessed he was going to have to get back to work. Sitting around just waiting, was slowly killing him – he needed something to occupy his time.
Currently, she was running her hands through her wavy hair, and despite the fatigue which wracked her body, she was both happy and excited. Her father’s ship had docked in New York for Fleet Week, rather than California, and he had called her the night before requesting she meet him at Central Park for families day.
The weather was still warm enough for a short, black gypsy skirt and a red gypsy top – despite the Italian heritage, she was looking very gypsy like, what with the tan and dark hair. She practically skipped her way in the sun, to the Park. It had been the best part of six years – graduation from college – when she had last seen her father.
He wasn’t hard to find. He was a good head taller than most, measuring in at six foot, five inches, and unlike the Navy men around him, who were in their off duty uniforms, he was fully dressed in his navy blue captain’s uniform, several medals adorning his chest, and his shoes so shiny you could see your reflection in him.
“Daddy!” Taylor yelled excitedly, launching herself at him.
Captain Jack Turner wrapped his arms tightly around his baby daughter and kissed the top of her head. He hugged her tightly before stepping back. “Let me get a look at you.” Taylor grinned and twirled. Captain Turner smiled happily. “You are turning into a beautiful young woman,” he told her. “You look so much like your mother when I met her.” He grasped at her hand and the two of them started walking. “Speaking of your mother, she has requested that I ask you why you are not married yet?” he asked her, a twinkle in his eye. Taylor grinned back at him. “I haven’t seen you in six years and she’s still asking about that,” he chuckled.
“Still? Try weekly,” Taylor added, rolling her eyes.
“Now Taylor,” he chided. “You know what she’s like. She gets it off her mother.” He frowned. “You do realise that if she were a cop, she would run a background check on any potential suitor, not that not being would stop her from trying.”
Taylor pulled a face. “Did you just say, suitor?”
Captain Taylor smiled, “I’m an old fashioned man. Forgive me.”
Taylor squeezed his hand. “How long are you here for?”
“Unfortunately, just until early tomorrow evening, when I have to leave for D.C.”
“But it’s Fleet Week, Daddy,” she pouted.
“I’m sorry, Taylor. I tried to talk them out of it.”
Taylor sighed. “Are they stationing you back in the Middle East?”
Captain Turner sighed, a gesture so similar to Taylor’s, it was clear they were related. “It looks like it.” He hugged Taylor. “Now, enough of that,” he said in reference to her disappointed face. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
Taylor had just filled him in on her job at the paper, Maddy’s death, helping the CSI’s, even about Louie, and was about to attempt to tell him about seeing ghosts when she was prevented from doing so by a scream.
Captain Turner leapt to his feet, like many of the military personnel around him, and dashed off in the direction of the scream. Ignoring her father’s requests that she stay where she was, Taylor dashed after him, pulling her phone from her pocket.
* * *
“Trevor Price,” said Taylor glumly, as she was joined at the dead marine’s side by Mac and Danny.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Danny muttered, a grin on his face, “Don’t tell me you play Ghostbusters on the weekend?”
Taylor threw him a withering look. “The ghosts don’t seem to know the concept of nine to five, Messer. And no, I wasn’t visited by his ghost. I was enjoying Fleet Week.”
“So you decided to give up your time with your father to play Nancy Drew?”
“Daniel,” Taylor hissed. “Less of the Drew, okay? If my dad hears you he’ll kill me!”
Danny nodded and turned his attention back to the body. “He’s not in his cami’s,” he noted, telling Mac, who had been watching the exchange with an amused expression on his face.
“It’s his dress Blue Delta uniform, off duty clothes,” said Taylor, as Mac nodded at her. “My father taught me,” Taylor offered by way of explanation.
“Which means he’s not part of the demonstration drills going on today,” said Mac.
Danny crouched down next to the victim. “Single stab wound to the chest, single drop of blood on his sleeve,” he said, pointing at the blood drop. He frowned and looked up at Mac. “You know, he’s off the path. This doesn’t look like a short cut so I’m guessing that he was dragged into the bushes.”
Mac leant over and looked at the marine. “This marine’s seen action. Global War on Terrorism Service medal, Navy and Marine Corp Achievement medal with Combat Action ribbon, and an Iraqi Campaign ribbon. He’s been overseas.”
“Just returned home from active duty,” agreed Captain Turner as he appeared from behind. Mac stood upright and shook his hand. “He was a marine on my ship, Detective. I would appreciate being kept in the loop on this one.”
Mac nodded. “That won’t be a problem.”
“I have just put in a call: members of the NCIS will be here shortly.”
“With all due respect, sir,” said Mac. “We can handle this without the Navy Criminalists.”
“It is a military matter,” Captain Turner argued. “And Jethro Gibbs is one of the best in the business.”
“Dad,” Taylor spoke up. “Give the New York crime lab a chance, first. They’re good.”
Captain Turner stared at his daughter and pursed his lips. “Very well,” he said, finally. “But this man was a hero. If his murderer is not caught, I will be bringing the NCIS in on this.” He pulled out his cell phone and walked away, presumably to call Gibbs.
“Thank you, Taylor,” said Mac.
Taylor shrugged, “I don’t doubt the skills of the NCIS, but I know your skills. Dad’s right – he was a hero.”
Mac sighed. “And this is how we welcome him home: ambush in Central Park.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but something about corporal Price caught his attention. “Something’s not right. His shirt is tucked in, his pants are creased. No abrasions on his knuckles, no dirt under his nails.”
“That means there wasn’t a struggle, right?” Taylor asked.
Danny nodded. “It’s usually a good indication, yeah.”
“Corporal Price was a decorated marine trained in combat. So why didn’t he fight for his life?” Mac mused.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Danny muttered, a grin on his face, “Don’t tell me you play Ghostbusters on the weekend?”
Taylor threw him a withering look. “The ghosts don’t seem to know the concept of nine to five, Messer. And no, I wasn’t visited by his ghost. I was enjoying Fleet Week.”
“So you decided to give up your time with your father to play Nancy Drew?”
“Daniel,” Taylor hissed. “Less of the Drew, okay? If my dad hears you he’ll kill me!”
Danny nodded and turned his attention back to the body. “He’s not in his cami’s,” he noted, telling Mac, who had been watching the exchange with an amused expression on his face.
“It’s his dress Blue Delta uniform, off duty clothes,” said Taylor, as Mac nodded at her. “My father taught me,” Taylor offered by way of explanation.
“Which means he’s not part of the demonstration drills going on today,” said Mac.
Danny crouched down next to the victim. “Single stab wound to the chest, single drop of blood on his sleeve,” he said, pointing at the blood drop. He frowned and looked up at Mac. “You know, he’s off the path. This doesn’t look like a short cut so I’m guessing that he was dragged into the bushes.”
Mac leant over and looked at the marine. “This marine’s seen action. Global War on Terrorism Service medal, Navy and Marine Corp Achievement medal with Combat Action ribbon, and an Iraqi Campaign ribbon. He’s been overseas.”
“Just returned home from active duty,” agreed Captain Turner as he appeared from behind. Mac stood upright and shook his hand. “He was a marine on my ship, Detective. I would appreciate being kept in the loop on this one.”
Mac nodded. “That won’t be a problem.”
“I have just put in a call: members of the NCIS will be here shortly.”
“With all due respect, sir,” said Mac. “We can handle this without the Navy Criminalists.”
“It is a military matter,” Captain Turner argued. “And Jethro Gibbs is one of the best in the business.”
“Dad,” Taylor spoke up. “Give the New York crime lab a chance, first. They’re good.”
Captain Turner stared at his daughter and pursed his lips. “Very well,” he said, finally. “But this man was a hero. If his murderer is not caught, I will be bringing the NCIS in on this.” He pulled out his cell phone and walked away, presumably to call Gibbs.
“Thank you, Taylor,” said Mac.
Taylor shrugged, “I don’t doubt the skills of the NCIS, but I know your skills. Dad’s right – he was a hero.”
Mac sighed. “And this is how we welcome him home: ambush in Central Park.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but something about corporal Price caught his attention. “Something’s not right. His shirt is tucked in, his pants are creased. No abrasions on his knuckles, no dirt under his nails.”
“That means there wasn’t a struggle, right?” Taylor asked.
Danny nodded. “It’s usually a good indication, yeah.”
“Corporal Price was a decorated marine trained in combat. So why didn’t he fight for his life?” Mac mused.
* * *
A short time later and Captain Turner returned to the group. “Gibbs is currently in Panama City, investigating a death there, so he isn’t available until the end of the weekend.”
Mac nodded, “Thank you, but I hope to have this wrapped up by then.”
Captain Turner nodded, “If you will excuse me, I need to talk to his commanding officer, and ensure his family are informed. Taylor?”
Taylor looked over at him, “Yes, sir?”
“Are you coming with me?” Taylor nodded. “I’ll be leaving in five minutes.” He walked off back in the direction of where the displays were being held.
Danny passed him on his way back to Taylor and Mac. “Found blood up on the path, Mac. Gravitational drops.”
Mac crouched down next to the body and stuck the thermometer into the liver. “Body temp’s 82.1. He’s been dead roughly eleven hours. TOD around midnight.”
“Um, there’s more blood,” said Taylor pointing to the ground next to her.
Danny walked over and dropped down for a closer look. “Directional drops leading away from the body.”
“We’ve swept the area twice, Mac,” said Flack, appearing in between the trees. “Killer didn’t dump the weapon.” He stopped when he noticed Taylor, contemplated saying something, but decided against it. “Unfortunately, lowlifes know it’s Fleet Week, also,” he continued. “Service men are easy targets because they’re easy to spot.”
Mac scowled, “A uniform isn’t a bulls-eye – it’s a badge of honour.”
Flack nodded. “Once a marine, always a marine.”
“If you attack one of us,” Mac started.
“You’ve attacked us all,” Taylor finished, earning three strange looks. She shrugged. “Daddy’s girl.” She glanced at her watch and sighed. “Much as I’d love to stick around, my dad is around for another thirty eight hours, and this is already going to take up a lot of his time, so excuse me whilst I be selfish and go spend some time with him.” She gave the three detectives smiles and set off in the direction her father had gone – he was a stickler for punctuality.
Mac nodded, “Thank you, but I hope to have this wrapped up by then.”
Captain Turner nodded, “If you will excuse me, I need to talk to his commanding officer, and ensure his family are informed. Taylor?”
Taylor looked over at him, “Yes, sir?”
“Are you coming with me?” Taylor nodded. “I’ll be leaving in five minutes.” He walked off back in the direction of where the displays were being held.
Danny passed him on his way back to Taylor and Mac. “Found blood up on the path, Mac. Gravitational drops.”
Mac crouched down next to the body and stuck the thermometer into the liver. “Body temp’s 82.1. He’s been dead roughly eleven hours. TOD around midnight.”
“Um, there’s more blood,” said Taylor pointing to the ground next to her.
Danny walked over and dropped down for a closer look. “Directional drops leading away from the body.”
“We’ve swept the area twice, Mac,” said Flack, appearing in between the trees. “Killer didn’t dump the weapon.” He stopped when he noticed Taylor, contemplated saying something, but decided against it. “Unfortunately, lowlifes know it’s Fleet Week, also,” he continued. “Service men are easy targets because they’re easy to spot.”
Mac scowled, “A uniform isn’t a bulls-eye – it’s a badge of honour.”
Flack nodded. “Once a marine, always a marine.”
“If you attack one of us,” Mac started.
“You’ve attacked us all,” Taylor finished, earning three strange looks. She shrugged. “Daddy’s girl.” She glanced at her watch and sighed. “Much as I’d love to stick around, my dad is around for another thirty eight hours, and this is already going to take up a lot of his time, so excuse me whilst I be selfish and go spend some time with him.” She gave the three detectives smiles and set off in the direction her father had gone – he was a stickler for punctuality.
Originally posted 17/07/2006