AN: Apologies for the delay in updating this story and the others I have seemingly neglected. My overdose on caffeine helped get this posted LOL otherwise RL has just been too crazy that my energy to write these days has been zapped to Narnia ;-) Special thanks goes to all my readers for sticking by me and for continuing to read my stories.

Mahalo goes to Book 'em Again for her feedback on the opening chapter of this story. I have made some edits to it according to her helpful suggestions but nothing that alters the plot itself.

Tanith

Steve took the mug of coffee from Jenny's grasp, briskly thanked her and continued into his office. Following at his heels were Dan, Kono and Chin. Once the men had filed into the room, Chin closed the door after them.

McGarrett walked over to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk. "Alright, we have two victims. Both are in their mid-twenties and murdered in the same hotel room. Victim number one was strangled and victim number two was stabbed. Official cause of death is yet to be determined and we're still searching for the murder weapons. What else do we know? Kono?"

"Mr. Summers was staying in da room opposite where he was murdered but da hotel manager," Kono paused and flipped open his black note book. "Drake Jensen, said he saw the victims holding hands and go into Prescott's room last night. Said he suspected dey were a couple."

Steve jotted down some notes on the board. "Did he see or hear anything last night or early this morning that was suspicious in nature? Maybe sounds of an argument or a struggle taking place?"

"Negative, boss," said the Hawaiian detective.

Steve let out a sigh of frustration before turning his attention to Chin. "How did you go rounding up potential witnesses?"

Chin shook his head. "Sorry, Steve. So far no one seems to have seen or heard anything."

"Someone must've heard something. The bodies were found by the cleaning lady when she saw the door was ajar shortly before she started her rounds which means there could've been guests that had already checked out. Stay on it, Chin. Go over the guest list again and track down anyone who may have already left before we arrived." Steve turned to Williams. "Danno, I want you to find out everything you can about Mr. Summers, where he lived, if he's single, anything that could help us."

"On it, Steve," said Dan with a curt nod.

"Kono, get in touch with Che and find out if those prints from the hotel room are ready. See if they match anyone with a record. I'll be at the Prescott's if anyone needs to reach me."

One by one the detectives swiftly departed the private office of Five-O's lead detective, each determined to fulfill their duty.

McGarrett drove through the quiet neighborhood of Waimanu Street and parked his Mercury alongside the curb outside the Prescott residence. The detective exited the car, opened the gate of the white picket fence and followed the paved walkway to a set of steps that led to the front door of the double-storey home. He rang the doorbell. When no one answered, he knocked on the door then called out, "Connor, it's McGarrett!"

Footsteps could be heard from within and the door opened to reveal the disheveled officer in his early thirties. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned. "Steve, I'm sorry but I just want to be alone right now," said Connor in a voice thick with emotion. He attempted to block the older detective's entry by leaning against the door frame and keeping a firm hold on the edge of the door.

"Where's your partner, Pete?" McGarrett asked, trying to lower Prescott's guard. "I thought he drove you home."

"Yeah he did but I needed some space." Connor lowered his red rimmed eyes and drew in a deep breath. He let go of the door and rubbed the back of his neck.

McGarrett took the opportunity to lean forward, placing a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder and guided him back inside the house. "Let's go inside and I'll make you a coffee." He gently coaxed the defeated looking man.

With a heavy high, Connor showed McGarrett to the kitchen then sat down at the dining table.

Steve filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove to boil.

"What the hell was she doing in that hotel room?" Connor broke his silence. He leaned his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. "She told me she was staying with her ex-roomie, Amelia, for the weekend. She had some extra shifts to cover at the base. Some emergency at the med bay there. I don't know."

McGarrett turned to face the off-duty cop. "Have you spoken to Amelia?"

Connor shook his head. "I haven't even told Megan's parents." Sobbing through his hands, the distraught widower could say no more.

"Easy, easy." McGarrett placed his hand on Prescott's quaking shoulder and tried to offer some level of comfort. He'd only known the officer for a little over two years, having worked on a number of drug smuggling investigations with him during that time, but he had a lot of respect for Prescott's father who died in the line of duty.

"I'm s-sorry. I'm okay," Connor stammered. He wiped his eyes with his hands and drew several shaky breaths then sat back in his seat staring at the wall ahead.

The whistling of the kettle diverted McGarrett's attention. He set about making two cups of coffee and noticed three empty beer bottles sitting on the sink. Well aware of the officer's battle with alcoholism triggered when he lost his father over a year ago, he hoped that the younger man wasn't about to spiral down that path again. It had placed a strain on his marriage before and threatened to put his career with the force in jeopardy. As far as McGarrett knew, the young man had been sober for at least four months. Having just lost another important person in his life, Connor was at his most vulnerable and Steve couldn't help but be concerned for him. Ignoring the bottles, he placed the steaming mug of coffee down on the table in front of Prescott who cast his eyes down to stare at the wooden surface.

"Connor, I know this is still a shock for you but I'm going to need your help to find out who did this to Megan." McGarrett pulled up a chair opposite the grieving cop and sat down. There were questions that he needed answers to and though he knew those answers had the potential to cause more pain, he couldn't allow his personal feelings to influence the course of the investigation.

"Sure, anything. I wanna nail the son-of-a-bitch who did this!" Connor looked up and felt his gut twist at the look in McGarrett's eyes.

"First, you need to be completely honest with me. How strong was your marriage? I know you and Megan had your share of problems but were they resolved?"

"If you're suggesting I had anything to do with…" Prescott snapped and jumped out of his seat, angered by where the question was leading. "I loved her! We were working things out! How could you?"

"Sit down," McGarrett calmly but firmly ordered. "Connor, do you have any reason to believe that Megan was having an affair?"

Grinding his teeth together in an effort to reign in his emotions, Prescott sat back down and ran his hands through his hair, unable to make eye contact with McGarrett.