An extended cab Dodge truck was parked in the driveway next to Maggie's car. A flatbed with a load of stone, wire, wrought iron, and bags of cement was parked by the curb. A cleared space about three feet wide contained a ditch already filled with concrete and set with wrought iron fence posts at even intervals. Both trucks, as well as the tee-shirts of the men working, bore the logo "Swanson Construction" and a phone number.
"What is all this?" Maggie asked. If Steve had a major remodeling project in the works, he hadn't told her.
"Oops," Robbie said. "This was suppose to be a surprise. You need to talk to Mr. Swanson. That's his truck so I know he's here. He's a good man. Comes highly recommend. He's even done jobs for the governor, here and back on Hilo where Mr. Jameson's from. Not to worry, everyone here is checked out personally by Mr. Swanson, and trust me, he does not put up with bullshit from anyone." Robbie got the bags out of the car and carried them inside.
A stocky man in neatly pressed workman's denim with the company logo embroidered over the left pocket hurried through the house to yell at Compton. "What's all this about? That squad car scared the hell out of about half my guys and they're hiding in the bushes, wondering what they did wrong." He was average height, balding, and appeared to be in his early sixties.
"Hello, Mr. Swanson, something came up and the honeymoon got canceled. Since you're here, I can tell Mr. McGarrett that I left his wife in good hands. I'm going back on patrol. Sounds like they need all the help they can get downtown." Robbie saluted as he left.
"Missus McGarrett, I wasn't expecting you back for another week." He held out a calloused hand for Maggie to shake. Maggie ignored the hand and hugged him instead. Charlie Swanson had been a guest at the wedding. He reminded Maggie of her father, who, when he wasn't shrimping, did construction work.
"Charlie, I thought I told you to call me Maggie. It's okay. It's good to see you! Now would you mind telling me why my house is a construction zone?" The back wall of the dining room had been removed and a part of the lanai was now framed in with two by four studs and exterior plywood. Three men who appeared to be in their mid twenties where peering around a pile of trusses, still distrustful of uniformed officers.
"It was suppose to be a surprise, Miss Maggie," Charlie said. "I was planning on being done before you and Mr. McGarrett got back Sunday evening. What you're looking at is your husband's new office and your new sewing room. He said you were getting tired of moving case files every time you wanted to lay out a pattern or set the table for company. This is your wedding present."
Maggie looked at what was left of their dining room. The furniture had been moved into the living room and covered with dust sheets.
"I wasn't expecting this, that's for sure," Maggie said. "Uh, Charlie, I know most of your crew are ex-cons. Please tell me my husband removed all the firearms."
Charlie smiled at that, showing dimples and square white teeth. I bet he was a knockout when he was younger, Maggie thought.
"Not to worry, Miss Maggie," Charlie said, reassuringly. "Your husband knows my crew. Hell, he recommend a few of them. Everything is locked up back at his office at Iolani Palace except the ones in the bedroom, and my guys don't know about those and don't go in there. I can personally vouch for every man here and they know that if they step out of line, they deal with me first and the parole board next."
"The new office and sewing room I can understand. What's that going up out front?" Maggie asked, still confused and not at all happy about the bushes that had been removed.
Charlie frowned. McGarrett had already told him that Maggie wasn't going to like the new fencing. "It's like this, after what happened, Mr. McGarrett wanted more security around this house. There's going to be a stone wall out front, with iron gates that open with a remote for when you're away and can be key locked from inside when you are at home. The wall goes all the way around the property. But on the beach side, it's going to be wrought iron with a lockable gate. He said there was no way you'd allow a stone wall on the beach side."
Maggie shook her head. "More security. I swear it's almost like being back in the damned desert." She caught the look of concern that Charlie was giving her. "It's okay, Charlie, really. I know he's doing this because he loves me and he still blames himself for what happened and if building one hell of a fence makes him feel better, let him."
Charlie took both of Maggie's hands in his, something he'd never done before. "Miss Maggie, you don't know this, but your husband saved my life. In more ways than one. If it wasn't for him I'd either be dead or back in prison. He's a good man. I knew Rhodes from way back. He's as bad as they come and the best thing that happened to this Island was when they shipped him off to that Supermax. I'm sorry about what happened. I should be building a nursery instead of an office."
Maggie closed her eyes for a moment. "Thank you, Charlie. My husband has good instincts. He knows a good man when he sees one. And you may get to build that nursery yet. We're going to try to adopt. In the meantime, I'll give Duke Lukela your card. He and Susan are expecting a baby boy in early May."
"Anything to keep my crew working and out of lockup. I'll take your bags to your room and get back to work. It's a good thing you're home early. You're shorter than I thought and I have to adjust the height of your new cutting table." He carried the bags to the bedroom and went outside, informing the world in general that he wasn't paying people to stand around looking cute.
Maggie headed for the shower, once again overwhelmed with love for her husband. Charlie's right, he is a good man, she thought, I wonder if the rest of the world will ever know. As she stood under the warm water washing the salt spray from her hair, the idea formed. Yes, she thought, I can do that, and smiling, she finished her shower and got dressed, ignoring the dull throbbing pain in her lower back that seemed to be her permanent companion these days. She got her favorite suit from Steve's closet, the cobalt blue one that matched the color of his eyes, a white shirt and a blue-gray silk tie with a thin blue diagonal stripe. She packed fresh underwear, and his shaving gear into the bag where he'd stashed his service revolver and cell phone and as an afterthought, dropped in the phone charger, just in case.
Her car was hot and stuffy from being parked for a week with the top and the windows up. She let down the windows, put back the top, and slid a Bruce Springsteen CD into the player, cranking the volume to ear bleeding decibels as the opening bars of "Dancing in the Dark" blasted the afternoon air.
O-O-O-O-O
The trauma center at Queens Hospital was it's usual controlled bedlam. Both uniformed and plain clothes HPD officers were milling around, trying to make sense of it all as they took witness statements. Chief Dann was already there waiting when McGarrett and Williams arrived. He was use to seeing McGarrett in a suit and did a double take at the tall detective dressed in jeans and a faded denim shirt and in need of a shave. McGarrett, Dann knew, was suppose to be out sailing with is new bride and looked as if he'd came in straight from the marina.
"What have you got, Chief?" McGarrett asked.
"Someone shot John Manicote is all we know at this point," Dann said, frowning. "It appears the shooter was somewhere in the parking tower across the street from the back entrance to the courthouse. I've got the garage sealed off. No one leaves until it's been searched, although I have a feeling our shooter was already long gone. Che's in there with a team from forensics. We'll know more when he's done. I sent a couple of blue and whites to pick up John's wife and daughter. They should be here soon."
McGarrett nodded. He didn't envy the officers on that detail. Informing the family of a tragedy was the worse part of any cop's job. "Have there been any threats against John or anyone else in the DA's office over a case that's coming up?" he asked, holding onto a small sliver of hope that they were dealing with a professional hit man and not a lunatic with a rifle. Professional shooters tended to be easier to track down and were adverse to killing people without being paid.
"My men are still asking questions and taking witness statements, Steve," Chief Dan said, somewhat testily. He had been disgruntled since Duke Lukela had retired from HPD to join Five-O. "I haven't had a chance to talk to anyone from the DA's office as yet. You can wait for the reports, or you can ask the assistant DA. She was there when John got shot and she's here in the waiting area. I'm going to go wait for Mrs. Manicote. John's still hanging in there, but from what I've heard, the next few hours are going to be crucial. The waiting area is down the hall and to your left."
"I know where it is," McGarrett said, wishing he didn't. And that it was a different assistant DA.
Her name was Regina Amber Gleeson. She was tall, thin, had dark brown hair cut into a power bob and looked more like a model than a lawyer. Two years earlier she and McGarrett had dated for a short time. The relationship hadn't ended well. He kept getting the feeling that as far as she was concerned, she was dating the chief of Hawaii Five-O, not Steve McGarrett, and contrary to popular opinion, those were two different people. Afterwords McGarrett had made his staff promise that if he ever dated another female lawyer, to please have him admitted to the psyche ward at Tripler until he came to his senses, not that it mattered much. A few months later he'd met Maggie, and as they say, the rest was history.
She stood up when they entered the waiting room, hair and makeup done to a perfection and wearing a Chanel suit that didn't look like it came from off the rack. In the spike heeled Jimmy Cho's she was wearing she was almost as tall as McGarrett and towered over Danny by at least half a foot.
"Steve," she said, extending a hand. "And Officer Williams. Didn't take them long to call in the big guns. I thought you were on your honeymoon."
Steve gave her a brief hug and Danny shook hands with the lawyer. Her fingers were tipped with two inch acrylic nails polished in a sunburst pattern. "Fortunately, I have married a very understanding woman. Can you tell me what happened?"
To her credit, she looked genuinely disturbed, her voice breaking as she spoke. "I was at the break area, where the tables are under the trees, going over my case files before court went back in session. I had just packed up my files and was going back inside when I saw John trying to get through the reporters. I wanted to catch up to him, so I called his name. I heard the shot just as he was turning around. I saw him fall against the bailiff holding the door, then I heard the second shot. After that it was just screaming and yelling and people running for cover." She shuddered involuntarily. "Oh, god, if I hadn't called him maybe he would have been inside the building and wouldn't have been shot. What am I suppose to tell Sharon?"
"Gina," McGarrett asked, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he did, "I doubt that would have made any difference and there's no reason to blame yourself. Have there been any threats made against John or anyone else in the DA's office?"
She shook her head, "No, none that we were taking seriously, anyway. You know what it's like. We get all kinds of crazy threats. Most of them are just venting and turn out to be harmless."
"What case was on the docket?" Danny asked. "Could it be someone thought that if John were out of the way the case would fall apart?"
"Danny," she replied, "That would be about the dumbest stunt anyone could pull. The case we were trying is the one for the Camera Crusader, as he calls himself. The only reason John was arguing the case is because he found the whole thing amusing. He said it was comic relief from some of the other awful stuff he's had to prosecute of late."
McGarrett and Williams had to agree. The Camera Crusader had personally declared war on traffic and surveillance cameras, considering them an invasion of privacy at their best and a violation of the forth amendment at their worse. For the previous three years he had been a one man wrecking crew pitted against every red light and CCTV camera on the Island. Armed with cans of spray paint, an air rifle, a paint gun, and a three foot length of fire hardened teak, he'd caused thousands of dollars worth of damage to any camera he declared intrusive. He'd written letters to every major newspaper in Honolulu taking credit for the destruction, but what had really annoyed law enforcement was when he started calling the local radio talk shows, making himself into a folk hero. He'd been busted in flagrante by an off duty airport security officer who'd been out running with her dog, a Rhodesian Ridgeback named Dolly, a K-9 officer who was getting quite the reputation as a damned good cop.
The trial had started the previous week, jury selection taking more time than the actual trial, which had been due to conclude that afternoon. The idea of shooting anyone over the possible outcome of the case was ludicrous.
"Was there anything else he could have been working on that would make him a target?" McGarrett asked.
"The biggest thing we've got going at this time are the cases stemming from that church Five-O busted back in August. So far no threats in conjunction with that one." She shrugged, a gracefully elegant gesture that normally had juries eating out of her hand. "Steve, I simply don't know. It's after the holidays and everything has been quiet. No threats of any kind, physical or legal. It's like he was hit by a bolt of lightening on a cloudless day."
"Thank you, Miss Gleeson," Steve said, formally. "If you think of anything that may be of importance, let us know. I will send someone over tomorrow to interview the rest of your staff. Let them know that we're looking for anything out of the ordinary that could be construed as a threat, no matter how odd it may sound. If you will excuse us, we need to get back to Iolani."
"I'll let them know," she said, giving McGarrett a quick once over as the two detectives left. She took in the way his jeans fit and the way the faded denim shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and trim waist. He still looks too damned good, the bastard, she thought. I wonder what his wife is like?
O-O-O-O-O
McGarrett and Williams returned to the trauma center as Doc Bergman stepped out of the room. He motioned for the two detectives to join him.
"Got anything for us, Doc?" McGarrett asked.
"He's got a bullet from a high powered rifle in the lower lobe of his right lung. He got lucky. Two inches lower and the bullet would have exploded his liver." Bergman was known for gruff explanations.
"What's the prognosis?" Williams asked. "Is he going to live?"
"Right now I'm giving him 60/40 odds. He's lost a lot of blood and he's probably about to lose part of his right lung. The only reason he's still with us is he's in good shape, doesn't smoke, and the second shot missed. It's going to be touch and go for the next couple of days, but I think he'll make it. We caught a major break that's going to be a big plus for his survival odds. There's a convention of thoracic surgeons in town for the week. I put in a call and we've got two of the best surgeons in the country scheduled to do the surgery."
"Can we talk to him?" McGarrett asked.
"Afraid not," Doc said. "He's got a tube down his throat to help him breathe. The only reason he's not in surgery is we were waiting for his wife to get here, and if she doesn't hurry, she's going to have to wait until he's in recovery to see him."
As if on cue, Chief Dann appeared, having escorted John's wife and daughter through a mine field of reporters.
"This way, ladies," Doc said, leading the two women into the trauma room.
"Find out anything from the ADA?" Chief Dann asked.
"Nothing," McGarrett said. "No viable threats and the no one's going to shoot a DA over a modern day Don Quixote who's got it in for traffic cameras instead of windmills."
"You think Mother's Helper is at it again?" Chief Dann was worried for the same reason McGarrett was. With McKenzie on the loose, every uniformed police officer was a target.
"That's what I'm afraid of, Chief. I'll be in my office if anything new turns up. Keep me posted on John's condition and let his wife and daughter know that if they need anything, all they have to do is call my office."
"You got it, Steve. Let's catch this bastard before he starts shooting at uniforms."