RK9 - Penguins are cute. And in my world, things are right again - I'm just chapters ahead on the writing front! (:P)

demolished-soul - I think they should bring Marty back too! And I may be one of the minority, but I wish they'd bring Peyton back too!

KiPpiEi - Glad to hear! I love the penguins too. Kinda wish you could have them as pets!! Lord knows my house is cold enough

sparkyCSI - Nope, not at all. He's gonna be in my story. I refuse to do what the writers did on NY, and ax him!

meadow567 - look, back to regular updates! I'm not keeping you too long!

Thoren - I hope I haven't made you wait too long! Glad you're still liking!

Um, spoilers still for Love Run Cold.

What The Eyes Can't See

Chapter 132: You're playin' with your life, this ain't no truth or dare

Taylor was pacing back and forth when Flack and a few uniforms turned up a short while later. Whilst she had sobered up somewhat, she realized she was still drunk by the fact she wasn't as cold as she probably should have been – considering she was waiting around in a giant refrigerator.

Flack let out a sigh when he spotted Taylor and joined her side. 'I should have known when dispatch said party.'

Taylor shrugged. 'Could be worse.'

Flack nodded sympathetically and pulled out his memo book. 'I guess I should take your statement.'

Taylor nodded, wearily. Flack was still behaving awkwardly and there was also still a lot of tension in the air. 'I was dancing, they announced the face of the promotional campaign, and then there was a scream. We dashed over, Marty took her pulse, but she was already dead. So I dialled 911.'

Flack lowered his pen. 'And the unofficial?'

Taylor peered up at him. 'Unofficial?'

'You know,' Flack prompted. 'The cryptic clues from beyond?' he added dryly.

Taylor shook her head. 'No ghost.' All things considered, that probably isn't a bad thing, Taylor sighed inwardly.

The pair turned as Mac arrived on the scene and he came over to join them. Mac sighed despairingly when he spotted Taylor. 'Ghost?'

Taylor shook her head. 'I was just here for the vodka.'

Mac eyed her suspiciously, but nodded and walked over to the body.

'You know you're going to have to stick around, don't you?' Flack asked her.

Taylor nodded. 'You think there's a chance they'd let me refill my glass?'

Flack rolled his eyes at her. 'No.' He stared at her, as if wanting to say something, but instead ducked under the tape, heading for Mac. Taylor sighed and took a seat.

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A few hours later, Taylor was falling asleep in her chair. Marty had been back and left her with his jacket, and was now on the other side of the room, chatting to one of the bikini-clad waitresses.

'Taylor?'

Taylor shook herself out of her doze and stared at Danny. 'Hey Messer.'

'Flack's sent me over to finish questioning you.'

Taylor rubbed her eyes. 'He's not going to do it?'

Danny shook his head. ''Fraid not.'

'Figures,' Taylor muttered under his breath.

'Has he not been to talk to you?' Danny asked, slightly surprised.

Taylor shrugged. 'I got an initial round of questioning.'

'No, to apologise.'

Taylor peered up at him. 'What do you know?'

'Flack is being Flack. Stubborn. And I'm well aware he accused you of having something going on with Marty.'

Taylor glanced over at Flack, who was busy interviewing one of the scantily clad waitress, yet still had the same frown plastered on his face as he had when he'd arrived. 'Yeah,' she muttered.

'And I know you went to him first about Truby,' Danny informed her, grabbing a chair and pulling it over. 'I also know he was being a jerk, albeit a drunk one, and he shouldn't have acted that way.'

'Danny, why are you apologising for him? That's his job. And frankly, I'd rather he just talk to me, period.'

Danny nodded. 'Look, how about we get on with finishing these questions?'

'Why is it that statement makes it sound like I'm guilty?'

'Guilty conscience?' Danny queried her with a grin.

'I'm not the one who was late,' Taylor shrugged. 'What were you and Nixon up to this evening? Or on second thoughts, don't answ-'

'I was waiting for Lindsay to show.'

Taylor frowned. 'She was even later than you. What was she doing?'

Danny sighed and sat down next to her. 'For dinner. I was waiting for Lindsay to show up for dinner.'

'Huh?' In the confused state she was being dragged into, that was the most articulate response she could manage.

Danny shrugged. 'She asked to meet me, to talk, muttering something about you and a Keith Urban concert.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'She actually listened to me?!'

'I don't know,' Danny frowned. 'Because she never showed up.'

Taylor sat back. 'What about Nixon?' she asked thoughtfully.

'She knows I went to meet Lindsay. I'm not going to lie to her about it. But I'm not going to refuse Lindsay if she wants to talk. I still care about her – I'm not going to ignore her. You ready to finish the questions?'

Taylor nodded. 'Doubt I can be much help though.'

A few questions later, Taylor realised she probably wasn't that helpful. She yawned and glanced at her watch. 'Danny, it's after five. Can we go any time soon?'

Danny frowned and looked around, caught Don and Lindsay's eyes, and waved them over. 'We about done?'

Lindsay looked at Danny. 'Get anything?'

'Negative,' Danny told her, shaking his head.

'The bouncer said that nobody left the bar since Tanya was discovered.'

'That was her name?' Taylor asked.

'Tanya Nettles,' Flack told her.

Danny frowned and looked around. 'If nobody left the bar that means our witness list may be our suspect list.'

Taylor groaned. 'Are you kidding me?'

Danny gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. ''Fraid so. You might not want to leave the city any time soon.'

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By the time Taylor returned home and got into bed, it was already pushing 8am. Despite being exhausted, she only managed a few hours sleep. She had fallen asleep fully clothed, and thus, once she was showered and changed, it was about lunch time.

She was eating her lunch when she discovered the smaller of the two envelopes still waiting for her to open it and read the contents. She ripped it open and allowed the contents to fall onto the counter. At first, when she spotted the visitation slip, she thought it was Chris, wanting her to visit again. But a closer inspection revealed that the visitee was actually Sonny Sassone.

Taylor scowled at the visitation slip and pushed it to one side, pulling the accompanying letter open.

Ms. Turner,

I think it would be beneficial to us both if we were to meet. This is an open visitation for every Tuesday until you feel you are ready.

Sonny Sassone.

Taylor read the letter once more, balled it up, and threw it in the trash. And then she pulled it out and smoothed it over, before folding it and putting it into her back pocket. There was only one thing to do.

She grabbed her car keys and headed to the precinct.

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She pulled up in time to find Flack cursing his head off at some "idiot driver" who had blocked him in. Taylor walked over to Danny who was watching him in amusement. 'Is he alright?'

Danny shrugged. 'I'm waiting for him to pull his ticket book out – and there it is,' he laughed.

Taylor watched as Flack wrote out a ticket, slammed it on the car's wind shield, and proceeded to pull out his cell. Within minutes, a uniformed officer was walking over, struggling slightly with the bright yellow clamp he was carrying.

With a satisfied smirk on his face, Flack walked over and joined them. 'That'll teach the idiot to block in a police car.'

'Where are you in a rush to get to?' Taylor asked him.

'After a suspect,' Flack explained, shortly.

'Want a ride?' Taylor offered, indicating to her car.

'You know, you probably shouldn't come,' Flack told her.

Taylor shrugged at him. 'Fine, you can grab a squad car. Or wait until your driver is back and has paid for you to remove his clamp.'

Flack begrudgingly nodded at Taylor. 'But you're standing back.'

'Gee, thanks,' Taylor muttered, as she got back into the car.

'You know, maybe I should get a squad car,' Flack mused, watching her as he sat in the front beside her.

'No, it's fine,' Taylor told him. 'You're right. I know you are. I don't even know why I'm bothered. It's not like there's a ghost. For once.'

'So how come you're here?' Danny asked her, leaning in between the two front seats.

'I came to see Louie, actually,' Taylor told him. Well, she had. 'Where are we headed?'

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They arrived at their destination some time later. 'What now?' Taylor asked.

'Now we wait for Colin Flynn,' Flack explained.

Danny leant forward again. 'Looks like we don't have to wait long. That's our boy, Flack. The manager from the club,' he explained for Taylor's benefit.

'Alright, let's go,' Flack said to Danny. 'Taylor, stay here.'

Taylor watched Flack get out of the car, the atmosphere leaving with him. She was out of the car just as Flynn was confirming that was who he was.

'NYPD,' Danny told him, flashing his badge. 'We've got a couple of questions for you.'

Flynn stopped next to the back of Taylor's car. 'Do I have to answer?' he demanded, looking in Flack's direction.

Flack shrugged. 'Cop, not a lawyer, but yeah, you do.'

'What's that under your eye, Mr Flynn?' Danny asked. Taylor walked around to Flack's side. He gave her a look which said, you should be in the car, but didn't say anything.

'My cat scratched me,' Flynn told them, staring at Taylor. 'Who are you?'

Danny snapped his fingers in Flynn's face. 'You're talking to me. And, yeah, I got to tell you, I don't know what you think detective,' he glanced in Flack's direction, 'but you don't really look like a cat person to me.'

'You sure you didn't hurt yourself at work last night?' Flack asked him. 'Maybe playing peek-a-boo with some of the girls at the party?'

Flynn rolled his eyes. 'Ok, sure. I was checking out that girl. I wanted to see how she fit into that tiny little costume. She caught me. What can I say?'

'I think the scratch is the last thing you deserve,' Taylor muttered under her breath, earning her a reproachful glare of Flack, and a downright evil glare from Flynn.

'We're gonna need to get your fingerprints,' Danny informed him.

Flynn stepped forward. 'You charging me with something?'

Danny squared back up to him. 'You want us to?'

Flynn slammed his hand against Taylor's window on the back door, causing her to wince. 'That's harassment, man!' Flynn stormed angrily, looking to Flack for support.

Flack just shrugged at him.

Danny stepped back. 'You know, you're right. You're right.' He held his hands up. 'It's my fault and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you can go. Go ahead.'

Taylor looked from Flack to Danny. 'What was that about?'

'That was good,' came Flack's response.

'What was?' Taylor questioned. 'And – Danny, what the hell are you doing to my car?!' Taylor shrieked at him as he pulled out a piece of sticky back plastic to take a handprint lift.

'You like that?' Danny asked Flack.

'If that damages my car, I'm sending you the bill!' Taylor told him.

'Relax, Drew. It's not going to do anything.'

Taylor pursed her hips and watched him with scrutiny.

'You got it?' Flack asked.

Danny nodded and held the print lift up. 'Yeah.'

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The car journey back to the precinct was spent in silence. Taylor was still sulking about Danny potentially damaging her car (although she kept denying that was the case.), Flack was still ignoring her, and for once, Danny couldn't seem to break the ice.

She dropped them off, parked up, noting that the car Flack had clamped was now gone, and headed into the morgue.

'Afternoon, Taylor,' Peyton chirped as Taylor walked in.

Taylor smiled back brightly. 'Hey Peyton. How's things?'

'Well, so long as I'm not lying on the table, I can't complain. How about with you?'

Taylor shrugged. 'What you said,' she told her, forcing a smile.

'So which ME are you here to see?'

'Actually, it's Louie I'm after,' Taylor told her.

'He's in the back,' Peyton informed her, pointing at the back door. 'Hey Taylor,' she called after her.

Taylor stopped and turned. 'Yeah?'

'You sure you're alright?'

Taylor gave her a reassuring smile. 'Don't worry about me. I'm fine.'

Taylor turned and headed into the back of the morgue. She stopped when she realised Louie was taking the particulars of a stab victim.

'Hey Drew,' he greeted her, spotting her hesitant form in the doorway. 'Are you here for Marty?'

Taylor frowned.

'He was here earlier. You've just missed him, actually.'

Taylor shook her head and headed over. Wordlessly, she pulled the letter out of her pocket and handed it over.

Louie took it with a frown, opened it, and read it. He looked at her with an angry expression. 'What's this?'