The best part of two hours later (the traffic on the Strip was horrendous) changed into a pair of black combats and a indigo off-the-shoulder sweater, Taylor and Flack, now in dark jeans and a button down shirt, were standing in the reception of the Las Vegas Crime Lab waiting for Greg to return from the Crime Scene. Sitting in a barely comfortable plastic chair, Taylor leant her head back against the wall. “Sorry, Don.”
Flack looked over at her. “What are you apologising for?”
“Ruining your vacation.”
“How do you work that one out?” Flack asked, cocking his head.
“Casper.”
“Casper?” he repeated.
Taylor frowned. Since when had she started calling them Casper’s? “Sorry, that’s Maddy and Aiden. I mean the ghost.”
Flack shrugged, “I’ve told you before, everyone has ghosts. Yours just happen to be actual spirits.”
Taylor pulled her head away from the wall, sitting in a more upright position to smile at Flack. “Have I told you how fantastic you are?”
“Not recently, but please continue. My ego could do with a boost.”
“Doofas,” Taylor laughed.
“Detective Flack and Taylor Turner?”
Taylor looked up to find a man with brown hair, greying around the temples, a beard and glasses waiting patiently in front of them, a manila folder in his hand. “Taylor,” she told her, holding her hand up.
“I’m Gil Grissom. I’m joining Catherine on the case. She’s asked if I could ask you some questions.”
Taylor nodded. “No problem.”
Grissom smiled, “Ms. Turner, could you follow me?”
“Taylor’s fine,” she told him as she followed Grissom into an interview room and took a seat opposite him. Thirty minutes later, Grissom had finished collecting Taylor’s statement, and was clearly having trouble processing some of Taylor’s ‘details’.
“You say the victim’s ghost appeared and pointed to the roof?” Taylor nodded patiently. “And this ghost was accompanied by two other ghosts. The ghost of a friend, and the ghost of a former NYPD CSI?”
Taylor nodded again, “Maddy helps the victim’s spirits, and Aiden tends to protect me from malicious spirits,” she frowned. “Actually, I’m not sure why Aiden was there, but she was.”
“Right,” said Grissom very slowly, clearly under the impression that Taylor was a few books short of a library.
“I know it seems strange, and trust me, I have had this conversation far too many times to keep count, so I can appreciate the fact you don’t believe me. I wouldn’t believe me in your position,” Taylor frowned. “But this practice has led me to the conclusion that you’ll believe me sooner or later… although I do hope it is sooner, rather than later,” she mused.
Grissom frowned. “Alright, well, we’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
Taylor left the room and headed back to the reception, accompanied by Grissom, who had returned to collect Flack. As the two of them disappeared, and Taylor took a seat to wait for them, Catherine, Greg, Nick and Sofia appeared, accompanied by two officers who had a man in handcuffs between them.
Whilst Sofia, the officers and the arrestee headed off in the direction Grissom and Flack had gone, the other three CSIs walked over to Taylor.
“The roof worked out then?” she asked them.
Nick rolled his eyes. “That didn’t take a psychic to work out, did it? I mean, come on! He came from the roof – it was obvious we were going to check up there.”
Taylor frowned – he had a very good point.
And then Holly and the victim reappeared. “Save him,” she was told as the ghost showed her a picture – a child’s drawing of a big stick man labelled Daddy, and a smaller stick man labelled Tristan.
“Who’s Tristan?” Taylor asked as the two ghosts disappeared. Barely giving any of the criminalists the chance to tell her they didn’t know, Taylor took off after the suspect, quickly catching him up.
“Who’s Tristan?” she asked him, as one of the officers grabbed her, pulling her away, back to Catherine, Greg and Nick, who had chased after her.
The suspect’s eyes widened. “How do you know about Tristan?”
“The guy you pushed off the building told me to save him. Was he talking about Tristan?” she asked again.
“No, I’m not saying anything,” the suspect said, shaking his head.
“Miss Turner!” cried Nick, pulling her to one side. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Taylor stared straight at him, meeting his brown eyes. “There is more to this case than you think.”
Flack looked over at her. “What are you apologising for?”
“Ruining your vacation.”
“How do you work that one out?” Flack asked, cocking his head.
“Casper.”
“Casper?” he repeated.
Taylor frowned. Since when had she started calling them Casper’s? “Sorry, that’s Maddy and Aiden. I mean the ghost.”
Flack shrugged, “I’ve told you before, everyone has ghosts. Yours just happen to be actual spirits.”
Taylor pulled her head away from the wall, sitting in a more upright position to smile at Flack. “Have I told you how fantastic you are?”
“Not recently, but please continue. My ego could do with a boost.”
“Doofas,” Taylor laughed.
“Detective Flack and Taylor Turner?”
Taylor looked up to find a man with brown hair, greying around the temples, a beard and glasses waiting patiently in front of them, a manila folder in his hand. “Taylor,” she told her, holding her hand up.
“I’m Gil Grissom. I’m joining Catherine on the case. She’s asked if I could ask you some questions.”
Taylor nodded. “No problem.”
Grissom smiled, “Ms. Turner, could you follow me?”
“Taylor’s fine,” she told him as she followed Grissom into an interview room and took a seat opposite him. Thirty minutes later, Grissom had finished collecting Taylor’s statement, and was clearly having trouble processing some of Taylor’s ‘details’.
“You say the victim’s ghost appeared and pointed to the roof?” Taylor nodded patiently. “And this ghost was accompanied by two other ghosts. The ghost of a friend, and the ghost of a former NYPD CSI?”
Taylor nodded again, “Maddy helps the victim’s spirits, and Aiden tends to protect me from malicious spirits,” she frowned. “Actually, I’m not sure why Aiden was there, but she was.”
“Right,” said Grissom very slowly, clearly under the impression that Taylor was a few books short of a library.
“I know it seems strange, and trust me, I have had this conversation far too many times to keep count, so I can appreciate the fact you don’t believe me. I wouldn’t believe me in your position,” Taylor frowned. “But this practice has led me to the conclusion that you’ll believe me sooner or later… although I do hope it is sooner, rather than later,” she mused.
Grissom frowned. “Alright, well, we’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
Taylor left the room and headed back to the reception, accompanied by Grissom, who had returned to collect Flack. As the two of them disappeared, and Taylor took a seat to wait for them, Catherine, Greg, Nick and Sofia appeared, accompanied by two officers who had a man in handcuffs between them.
Whilst Sofia, the officers and the arrestee headed off in the direction Grissom and Flack had gone, the other three CSIs walked over to Taylor.
“The roof worked out then?” she asked them.
Nick rolled his eyes. “That didn’t take a psychic to work out, did it? I mean, come on! He came from the roof – it was obvious we were going to check up there.”
Taylor frowned – he had a very good point.
And then Holly and the victim reappeared. “Save him,” she was told as the ghost showed her a picture – a child’s drawing of a big stick man labelled Daddy, and a smaller stick man labelled Tristan.
“Who’s Tristan?” Taylor asked as the two ghosts disappeared. Barely giving any of the criminalists the chance to tell her they didn’t know, Taylor took off after the suspect, quickly catching him up.
“Who’s Tristan?” she asked him, as one of the officers grabbed her, pulling her away, back to Catherine, Greg and Nick, who had chased after her.
The suspect’s eyes widened. “How do you know about Tristan?”
“The guy you pushed off the building told me to save him. Was he talking about Tristan?” she asked again.
“No, I’m not saying anything,” the suspect said, shaking his head.
“Miss Turner!” cried Nick, pulling her to one side. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Taylor stared straight at him, meeting his brown eyes. “There is more to this case than you think.”
* * *
Flack sat at the large table in disbelief. He didn’t have a clue how she did it, but Taylor had this almost annoying knack of being allowed access to information she probably shouldn’t be. Annoying because it meant he was more prone to worry about her well-being when she was accepted into cases, regardless of the degree she was accepted.
Currently the two of them were sat in the Vegas Crime Lab’s break room, seated at a large table with Grissom, Greg, Nick, Catherine, another woman with shoulder length brown hair and a gap between her two front teeth called Sara, and a black man who had been introduced as Warrick.
Maybe Taylor’s talents were wasted on the paper. She certainly had the ability to make a very good undercover cop… if she could learn some self defence and weapons training. Not that he would ever suggest it. No, he didn’t think he would be able to cope if he was worrying about her safety in situations with hardened criminals. It was bad enough with the ghosts. Well, at least it was obvious Taylor had no intention whatsoever of leaving the paper.
Pushing these thoughts from his mind, he turned his attention back to Grissom, who was currently filling Warrick and Sara in on what they knew. “…and Leon Orsion was still on the roof, where he confessed to pushing his brother, Geoff Orsion off the roof of the Castenelli Heights Casino Hotel.” Grissom handed out various photographs of the crime scene.
“I’ve got the results back from DNA,” said Sara. “The DB is related to our suspect.”
“So he wasn’t lying,” said Nick.
“Not about that,” Taylor muttered.
“Alright,” said Warrick, “I kind of get why detective Flack is here, but, uh, sorry, but why are you here, Ms. Turner?”
“Please, it’s Taylor,” Taylor told him.
“Taylor’s a psychic,” Greg interrupted her.
“I’m not a psychic!” Taylor growled at him. “I am a journalist, and I just happen to see ghosts.”
From across the table, Sara started to snigger. “You see ghosts.”
With an exasperated sigh, Taylor slammed her head down on the table. “Yes,” her voice came out muffled.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but she can see ghosts,” Flack confirmed.
“Ghosts are irrelevant,” said Catherine, brushing the statement aside. “What is relevant is who is Tristan, and why would Leon push his brother off the roof of a building?”
“Well, Leon is not sharing that information with us,” Sofia told them as she came in and sat down at the table, throwing a folder on to it. “He’s confessing he did it, but as soon as we try and get a why out of him, he clams up, and mentioning Tristan is just making it worse.”
“I think I’ve worked out who Tristan is,” said Nick, holding up an evidence bag. Inside it was a picture of Leon with a small boy whose arms were wrapped around his neck. “I think he was his son.”
“Where did that come from?” Greg asked.
“Suspect’s wallet.”
“Geoff’s ghosts told me to save him,” said Taylor. “And he showed me a child’s picture-”
“Ghost?” repeated Sofia.
“Taylor thinks she can see ghosts,” said Sara.
“I don’t think. I can,” Taylor corrected, trying to stay patient. “Anyway, this picture had two stick men labelled daddy and Tristan.”
“You know there are no such things as ghosts, don’t you,” said Sofia.
“There are,” said Flack quickly – he had already spotted that Taylor had just about used up all her patience.
“How else could I have found out about Tristan?” she asked.
“That still doesn’t help us,” said Catherine. “Not if Leon isn’t talking.”
“Let me talk to him,” said Taylor suddenly.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” said Sofia.
Taylor shook her head. “No, not as a cop or a criminalist, as me. Just a chat. Maybe… maybe I can get something out of him.”
“It’s worth a shot,” said Greg.
Taylor shot him a grateful smile and turned to Grissom who was staring at her intently. “You’re not going in alone,” he said finally.
“Damn straight she’s not,” said Flack.
Grissom shook his head, “I can’t have the two of you in there. If Taylor speaks to him, it’s going to be with one of us.”
“I’ll do it,” said Greg.
“Sorry Greg, it’s going to be someone higher ranking than you. Catherine?”
“You’re going along with this?” Catherine asked in disbelief. Grissom gave a long stare before nodding. Catherine shrugged. “Let’s go speak to our suspect.”
“Not in an interview room,” Taylor blurted out.
“And why not?”
“Do you have any idea how intimidating and uncomfortable those things are?”
Currently the two of them were sat in the Vegas Crime Lab’s break room, seated at a large table with Grissom, Greg, Nick, Catherine, another woman with shoulder length brown hair and a gap between her two front teeth called Sara, and a black man who had been introduced as Warrick.
Maybe Taylor’s talents were wasted on the paper. She certainly had the ability to make a very good undercover cop… if she could learn some self defence and weapons training. Not that he would ever suggest it. No, he didn’t think he would be able to cope if he was worrying about her safety in situations with hardened criminals. It was bad enough with the ghosts. Well, at least it was obvious Taylor had no intention whatsoever of leaving the paper.
Pushing these thoughts from his mind, he turned his attention back to Grissom, who was currently filling Warrick and Sara in on what they knew. “…and Leon Orsion was still on the roof, where he confessed to pushing his brother, Geoff Orsion off the roof of the Castenelli Heights Casino Hotel.” Grissom handed out various photographs of the crime scene.
“I’ve got the results back from DNA,” said Sara. “The DB is related to our suspect.”
“So he wasn’t lying,” said Nick.
“Not about that,” Taylor muttered.
“Alright,” said Warrick, “I kind of get why detective Flack is here, but, uh, sorry, but why are you here, Ms. Turner?”
“Please, it’s Taylor,” Taylor told him.
“Taylor’s a psychic,” Greg interrupted her.
“I’m not a psychic!” Taylor growled at him. “I am a journalist, and I just happen to see ghosts.”
From across the table, Sara started to snigger. “You see ghosts.”
With an exasperated sigh, Taylor slammed her head down on the table. “Yes,” her voice came out muffled.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but she can see ghosts,” Flack confirmed.
“Ghosts are irrelevant,” said Catherine, brushing the statement aside. “What is relevant is who is Tristan, and why would Leon push his brother off the roof of a building?”
“Well, Leon is not sharing that information with us,” Sofia told them as she came in and sat down at the table, throwing a folder on to it. “He’s confessing he did it, but as soon as we try and get a why out of him, he clams up, and mentioning Tristan is just making it worse.”
“I think I’ve worked out who Tristan is,” said Nick, holding up an evidence bag. Inside it was a picture of Leon with a small boy whose arms were wrapped around his neck. “I think he was his son.”
“Where did that come from?” Greg asked.
“Suspect’s wallet.”
“Geoff’s ghosts told me to save him,” said Taylor. “And he showed me a child’s picture-”
“Ghost?” repeated Sofia.
“Taylor thinks she can see ghosts,” said Sara.
“I don’t think. I can,” Taylor corrected, trying to stay patient. “Anyway, this picture had two stick men labelled daddy and Tristan.”
“You know there are no such things as ghosts, don’t you,” said Sofia.
“There are,” said Flack quickly – he had already spotted that Taylor had just about used up all her patience.
“How else could I have found out about Tristan?” she asked.
“That still doesn’t help us,” said Catherine. “Not if Leon isn’t talking.”
“Let me talk to him,” said Taylor suddenly.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” said Sofia.
Taylor shook her head. “No, not as a cop or a criminalist, as me. Just a chat. Maybe… maybe I can get something out of him.”
“It’s worth a shot,” said Greg.
Taylor shot him a grateful smile and turned to Grissom who was staring at her intently. “You’re not going in alone,” he said finally.
“Damn straight she’s not,” said Flack.
Grissom shook his head, “I can’t have the two of you in there. If Taylor speaks to him, it’s going to be with one of us.”
“I’ll do it,” said Greg.
“Sorry Greg, it’s going to be someone higher ranking than you. Catherine?”
“You’re going along with this?” Catherine asked in disbelief. Grissom gave a long stare before nodding. Catherine shrugged. “Let’s go speak to our suspect.”
“Not in an interview room,” Taylor blurted out.
“And why not?”
“Do you have any idea how intimidating and uncomfortable those things are?”
* * *
Taylor had convinced Grissom and Catherine to change the location of the ‘chat’ to a more informal room, and both she and Catherine were seated opposite Leon, with everyone else watching from another room, via a video feed.
“I’m not saying anything,” Leon told them stubbornly before he even sat down.
“Leon, I see ghosts,” Taylor told him, ignoring his statement, and the laugh that came with it. “You can laugh, but your brother paid me a visit tonight, asking me to save someone. Your son, judging from the picture. Now, I can wait for him to help tell me where he is, but when the ghosts come to me with clues like children’s drawings, I’m sure you can appreciate it is going to take a while for me to find Tristan. Alternatively, you could tell us what you know so we can find him sooner, and if he’s in as much danger as I suspect he is, we can find him whilst he’s still alive.” Leon stared defiantly at her. “Okay, then I’ll tell these guys that we’re looking for a body,” Taylor shrugged, getting to her feet.
“They want twenty five thousand for him,” Leon told them, his voice cracking.
Taylor stared behind him at Geoff, who had turned up with Holly, holding a few casino chips in his hand. “To pay off gambling debts?” she asked, trying to decipher the clue. “Or a casino worker has him?”
Leon gaped at her. “The last one. How did you…?”
“I told you,” Taylor told him, sitting down. “I see ghosts, and your brother wants to help you find him.”
“You know who has him?” Catherine interrupted.
Leon nodded, “Gino Castenelli. Or at least he has his men doing the dirty work.”
“That’s a pretty big accusation,” Catherine told him. “Do you have any evidence to back this up?”
“No.”
“Why do they have him?” Taylor asked, looking from Leon to his dead brother. “Surely Castenelli is loaded – why does he need the money?”
“He doesn’t. But I own some land just behind the Castenelli Heights and he wants it. He wants to build a golf course there.”
“So this is blackmail?” Catherine asked, taking notes.
“I don’t understand how your brother fits into this,” said Taylor, with a frown.
“You thought he had something to do with it?” Catherine asked again, still making notes.
“He works at the Castenelli Heights,” Leon shrugged. “I confronted him and he denied it.”
“An inside job?”
Taylor looked over at the ghost of Geoff, who was shaking his head mournfully. “I don’t think he had anything to do with it,” Taylor muttered.
Leon burst into tears, “I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to get him to tell me where Tristan is.”
“I’m not saying anything,” Leon told them stubbornly before he even sat down.
“Leon, I see ghosts,” Taylor told him, ignoring his statement, and the laugh that came with it. “You can laugh, but your brother paid me a visit tonight, asking me to save someone. Your son, judging from the picture. Now, I can wait for him to help tell me where he is, but when the ghosts come to me with clues like children’s drawings, I’m sure you can appreciate it is going to take a while for me to find Tristan. Alternatively, you could tell us what you know so we can find him sooner, and if he’s in as much danger as I suspect he is, we can find him whilst he’s still alive.” Leon stared defiantly at her. “Okay, then I’ll tell these guys that we’re looking for a body,” Taylor shrugged, getting to her feet.
“They want twenty five thousand for him,” Leon told them, his voice cracking.
Taylor stared behind him at Geoff, who had turned up with Holly, holding a few casino chips in his hand. “To pay off gambling debts?” she asked, trying to decipher the clue. “Or a casino worker has him?”
Leon gaped at her. “The last one. How did you…?”
“I told you,” Taylor told him, sitting down. “I see ghosts, and your brother wants to help you find him.”
“You know who has him?” Catherine interrupted.
Leon nodded, “Gino Castenelli. Or at least he has his men doing the dirty work.”
“That’s a pretty big accusation,” Catherine told him. “Do you have any evidence to back this up?”
“No.”
“Why do they have him?” Taylor asked, looking from Leon to his dead brother. “Surely Castenelli is loaded – why does he need the money?”
“He doesn’t. But I own some land just behind the Castenelli Heights and he wants it. He wants to build a golf course there.”
“So this is blackmail?” Catherine asked, taking notes.
“I don’t understand how your brother fits into this,” said Taylor, with a frown.
“You thought he had something to do with it?” Catherine asked again, still making notes.
“He works at the Castenelli Heights,” Leon shrugged. “I confronted him and he denied it.”
“An inside job?”
Taylor looked over at the ghost of Geoff, who was shaking his head mournfully. “I don’t think he had anything to do with it,” Taylor muttered.
Leon burst into tears, “I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to get him to tell me where Tristan is.”
Originally posted 05/10/2006