What The Eyes Can't See

Chapter 229: I'm thankful for every breath I take

Taylor emerged from the subway to find that it had finally eased off raining. She made her way through the dispersing crowds and headed for the Crime Lab. She rounded the corner in time to spot a yellow cab hurtling its way towards Flack, who was getting in an altercation with a cuffed suspect.

'Flack!' she screamed in horror, just as Angell spotted the cab and tackled Flack over the trunk and out of the way of the incoming vehicle. He was on his feet in seconds, sprinting after the escaping cab.

Taylor took a moment to re-inflate her lungs and dashed over to Flack's, now missing a back door, department issued vehicle. 'Jess? Are you alright?' she asked her, her eyes wide wide with worry.

Jess, who had leapt to her feet to pass the cuffed suspect over to a uniform, rather than check herself over, finally took the time to look down and examine herself for injury. 'I'm fine,' she nodded, glancing over at Taylor. Her eyes flicked to something behind the journalist.

Taylor turned. It was the body of the latest ghost.

Jess hurried past her and ducked next to the body, her fingers searching for a pulse. 'He's dead,' she announced, rising to her feet and scanning the ground. She quickly spotted a wallet and hurried over to it, a sigh escaping her as she examined it.

'What is it?' Taylor asked as Flack arrived back.

'I lost them,' Flack told them, giving Taylor a quick look of surprise.

Jess flicked the wallet open. It wasn't, as Taylor first thought, actually a wallet, but an ID. 'Jersey City PD,' Jess said. 'You think it was him? The Cabbie Killer?'

'Well if it was, just upped his game. The son of a bitch just killed a cop,' Flack said. He turned to Taylor. 'I wasn't expecting to see you.'

Taylor sighed. 'I had a visitor,' she told him sadly, looking down at the body.

'You're drenched,' he frowned.

---

Stella yawned and stretched. She had been watching a Discovery documentary on Prehistoric New York and realized that she hadn't heard a peep out of Riley all night. There had been movement upstairs and the teenager had left her bedroom a couple of times for the bathroom, but all in all, it was a very easy babysitting gig.

With a groan, she pulled herself from the low sofa and made her way to the kitchen to raid the freezer. Ben and Jerry's was calling her, and she knew that Taylor would have a stash hidden away. She was partly right – it wasn't hidden away in the slightest. She grabbed a spoon and dug into the Chunky Monkey goodness.

'It's a little late for ice cream, isn't it?' Riley asked.

Stella shrugged. 'Want some?'

'It's past my bed time,' Riley responded dryly.

Stella took a large mouthful of ice cream and swallowed. 'So why aren't you in bed?'

Riley shrugged and pulled another spoon out of the drawer. 'It's not like anyone cares.'

'What makes you say that?'

'Well, where's Don or Taylor?' Riley pointed out as she dug into the ice cream.

'They may not be here, but they care enough to make sure you're not left alone,' Stella told her. 'Why do you think I'm here?'

Riley rolled her eyes. 'To make sure I don't let my boyfriend in.'

'To make sure you stay safe,' Stella corrected her.

'I'm nearly sixteen. I'm capable of taking care of myself. I have been for years.'

'First of all, you're not doing a very good job of proving that, and second of all, you're fifteen. You shouldn't have to be taking care of yourself,' Stella informed her, waving her spoon at her. 'When I was your age, I would have done anything to be in your situation.'

'I don't see you doing anything to help someone else out of my situation,' Riley muttered.

Stella pulled the ice cream away and put it on the top. 'Right, we can stop that right now. I am pregnant and therefore hormonal, so insulting me about my lack of care is only going to result in me taking the ice cream away from you. For all you know, I may have tried to foster a child but because of my lack of partner, and because I work irregular shifts, the state might not have deemed me suitable to look after another person.'

Riley fell silent, slipping back against the counter. 'Oh,' she mouthed.

'Yes, oh,' Stella repeated. 'Now your situation here might only be temporary until they find you somewhere more permanent-'

'They're not going to find me somewhere more permanent!' Riley blurted out. 'I'm fifteen! Who adopts fifteen year olds when they all want babies? And as soon as Taylor and Don realize that, I'll be straight back in the orphanage.'

Stella frowned, staring at the teenager. 'That's it, isn't it?'

'What?' Riley asked sulkily.

'The reason you're behaving like you are. Why you're skipping school and why you're dating a guy that's way too old for you? You figure that it's better they send you back sooner, rather than later – that way the pain will be less.'

Riley stared at her feet and shrugged.

'Look, Taylor might not have looked too far into the future, but she's not going to just throw you out. If nothing else, she's far too stubborn, but more than that, her heart is too big. The only one you're really hurting is yourself. You're onto a good thing here. She's pulling you out of that school you're in to put you in a better one,' Stella explained. 'And she's prepared to make sure that you have the extra attention you need so you're not behind when you start there. And I bet if I went upstairs in your room, it wouldn't be like a cell. I bet she's spent a pretty penny on you.'

Riley nodded. 'I guess.'

'So stop acting out and make the most of it. You've been given the opportunity here to make something of yourself,' Stella finished as she reached back for the ice cream and offered it to her.

Riley dug her spoon in and looked up at the curly haired woman. 'He's not too old for me. He's only a couple of months older than me.'

Stella frowned. 'Taylor's under the impression he's old enough to be in college.'

'Chase is just looks older than he is. He rarely gets ID'd.'

Stella's frowned deepened.

Riley's eyes widened. 'Not that we've ever tried to buy any alcohol or anything like that!' she said quickly.

'I'm sure,' Stella said dryly. 'You do realize there are consequences to buying alcohol, much less being drunk and underage, don't you?'

Riley nodded glumly.

'So how do you know him?' Stella asked, changing the subject slightly.

'He's at the same orphanage I was in,' Riley told her. 'He's my best friend.' She frowned. 'You're not going to bust me?'

Stella shrugged. 'Depends on whether or not you're going to get your act together and stop giving Taylor and Don a hard time?'

Riley nodded.

'Then no. You can thank my hormones that I'm going to let that one slide.'

Riley smiled. 'You're alright for an adult.'

'You're not too bad yourself, kid.'

---

'Right outside the precinct?' Mac muttered, clearly surprised at the brazen nature of the serial killer. He turned to Flack. 'Well, what did you see?'

Flack shrugged. 'Not much.'

'Did you catch a license plate on the cab?'

'No,' Flack told him. 'It didn't have any tags.'

'What about the car? Make? Model? Year?'

'I dunno. Maybe a Ford.'

'Any dents or distinguishing marks? Mac pressed.

Flack shook his head. 'He was going too fast – I was running.'

'Come on,' Mac said. 'Give me something? Anything?'

'Look, I know I sound like an idiot,' Flack told him in despair. 'It was a yellow cab. That's all I got.' With a sigh he walked away.

Mac turned to Taylor. 'What about you?'

'A little less than what Don told you. I'm sorry, Mac.'

Mac sighed. 'It's not your fault.'

'It's not Don's fault either,' Taylor pointed out.

'I know,' Mac admitted. 'It's just… it's right outside our own home and no one saw anything.' He dropped down next to the body and pushed the head back slightly. 'Bright red blood.'

Taylor dropped down next to him and peered at the body. 'That's a sign of carbon monoxide poisoning, isn't it?'

Mac nodded.

'Well, that's the same MO as the Cabbie Killer, isn't it?'

Mac nodded again. 'Right down to the carvings on the back of the neck.' He frowned and glanced at Taylor. 'Am I going to read this in the paper tomorrow?'

Taylor patted her herself down and looked at Mac with a mock look of surprise on her face. 'Well, look at that!' she exclaimed. 'I don't have a pen on me to take notes.'

Mac gave her a nod. 'Thank you.'

Taylor got to her feet. 'It's pretty bold to kill a cop, Mac. But to then dump him out in front of a precinct and nearly take another cop out in the process?'

'The Cabbie Killer is mocking us.'

'Or daring us to catch him,' a new voice added.

Taylor turned to find Quinn, the CSI from Jersey, heading towards them.

'Quinn,' Mac greeted her. 'I see Jersey City sent its finest.'

'And I see you're resorting to outsourcing help,' she said, looking pointedly at Taylor.

Taylor held up her hands. 'Hey, I want this guy caught too.'

Quinn glanced at Mac who just nodded. 'I take it it's the work of the Cabbie Killer?'

Mac nodded. 'It appears so.'

'So his first victim was from Hoboken. Now he's killed a Jersey City cop? I'm working the case with you. The maniac's killed six people,' said Quinn, dropping down beside the body.

'Let's hope this is the last one,' Mac told her.

Taylor frowned, watching Quinn. 'Did you work with him?' she asked her.

Quinn nodded. 'Yeah, a couple of times.'

'I'm sorry,' Taylor sighed.

'No holster, no gun,' Mac said, continuing his examination of the body. 'He probably wasn't carrying.'

'That doesn't really make much sense,' Taylor said, scratching at her still wet hair.

'What doesn't?' Quinn asked her.

'Well, the Cabbie Killer has been front page news for weeks, right?' At the detectives' nods she continued. 'Well, if an officer was going to take a cab, why on earth would he do it unarmed?'

'That's a good point,' Quinn agreed.

Mac turned to Taylor. 'Right, we'll take it from here.' His expression softened slightly. 'You look exhausted.'

'So do you,' Taylor returned gently.

Mac almost smiled at her. 'Thanks, but I won't be getting any sleep until this killer is caught.'

---

Taylor had returned home and relieved Stella of her babysitting duties. I think things are going to be alright here, Stella had announced somewhat cryptically before disappearing.

The statement was still playing on her mind as she returned from driving a somewhat subdued Riley to school and wandered into her living room. 'Great,' Taylor mumbled under her breath. 'She's taking tips from the undead.'

'What about us?' Maddy asked, suddenly appearing.

Taylor shivered, reaching for the blanket draped over the back of the couch and pulled it over her. 'Something Stella said,' she muttered, eyeing the collection of ghosts. Her eyes fell on Jimmy Comitis – the police officer – and the monkey swinging about on his shoulders. She sighed. 'Look, you've really got to give me something more, because this is tearing everybody down and I just don't see how a bible quote is going to lead me to a serial killer. Please!'

'It's not.'

Taylor blinked. 'It's not, what?' she asked the ghost of the police officer who had been the one to announce the statement.

'It's not.'

Taylor shut her eyes and counted to ten. 'It's not, what?' she repeated. 'It's not the serial killer?'

Jimmy remained silent.

'You mean, the person who killed you is not the same person who killed these guys?' The monkey let out a screech. 'Okay, I'll take that,' Taylor announced as she glanced at the clock. Nancy would be expecting her in the office shortly. 'Priorities,' Taylor muttered as she headed out of the door and to the Crime Lab.

---

'What can I do for you, Taylor?' Mac asked as she entered his office.

Taylor took a breath and began the speech she had been rehearsing on the way over. 'What if you've been looking at this case the wrong way?'

'What do you mean?'

'Well you've been looking at a dead cop,' she told him, thinking of the brief conversation she'd had with Flack who had gone with Angell to a cab company and filled her in on them finding Jimmy's cab and the fact he had been moonlighting as a cab driver. 'What if you should be looking at a dead cab driver?'

'Okay, so Comitis is beaten up by three guys, but then they kill him with carbon monoxide and carve into his neck. Maybe they give him a taste of his own medicine. Jimmy was a cabbie, a cabbie's been terrorizing the city and putting everyone out of business. That's why they dumped him in front of the precinct,' Mac mused. 'They delivered him to us like a gift – vigilante justice.'

'I'm not sure Jimmy's the serial killer though,' Taylor frowned. Surely, if he was, he wouldn't have been standing around with his victims – dead or not.

Mac shook his head. 'I doubt it too,' he agreed. 'It doesn't explain how he had the etchings on the back of his neck.' All of a sudden, he rose to his feet. Taylor turned to find Jordan Gates striding into the room.

'Can either of you explain to the mayor how sensitive information about an active serial killer case ends up on an internet blog?' she asked, staring pointedly at Taylor. 'Your internet blog.'