AN: Apologies for the delay in getting this story updated. Thank you for continuing to read this tale.

Chapter 6

Dan had put the pedal to the metal as he tore down the streets on his way to Sam Kapua's house. Under ordinary circumstances he would have called HPD for back-up but with a fellow office's career on the line, he felt obligated to give the man a chance to not give him a reason to call the cavalry. Prescott was, after all, a friend of Steve's and Danny respected that friendship. He just hoped that he wasn't about to respond to a situation that would cost Prescott more than just his career.

When he finally drew alongside the Kapua residence, Dan noticed Prescott's vehicle parked in the drive. Cursing under his breath, he hurriedly exited his LTD and raced up the short flight of steps to the front door which was ajar. Dan stood to the side, drew out his pistol and cautiously pushed the door open inward. With his gun raised in front of him, the detective stepped over the threshold and scanned the interior of the modest home. There was little in the way of natural lighting from the sunrise filtering through the windows as the thick curtains were drawn shut. Taking small breaths, Dan continued to search the property for signs of life. When he crept down the hall, a movement from the corner of his eye triggered his reflexes. With his gun held at the ready, he held his breath and swung to his right. He found himself facing the gleaming barrel of another service revolver.

"Williams! What the hell are you doing here?" Prescott hissed.

Dan allowed the breath he'd been holding to expel from his lungs. "I was going to ask you the same thing!" He whispered back.

A noise alerted both men that they were not alone.

Dan placed a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence but Prescott had other ideas. Instead, he rushed toward the direction of the noise leaving the Five-O second-in-command behind.

Dan raced after the officer who had a well-built young Hawaiian man in his sights.

"Stop! Police!" Prescott hollered to the fleeing youth as he barreled out the back door. "Damn it!" He holstered his gun as the man he suspected to be Sam Kapua climbed over a fence. In hot pursuit, Prescott didn't hesitate to follow suit with Dan Williams close at his heels.

The foot chase carried across two blocks with all three men weaving between obstacles, cutting through neighboring properties and finally ending in an alleyway where an out of breath Kapua tripped and fell over some trash cans.

"On your feet!" Prescott dragged Kapua to his feet and slammed him faced first up against the brick wall. He fumbled for his cuffs but his hands were shaking so badly from the adrenaline rush and lack of sleep that he dropped them. Kapua twisted himself free and shoved the officer away from him but he didn't get very far when another man barred his path, pointing a gun at his chest.

"Five-O, hold it right there!" Dan ordered breathlessly.

Prescott paced the grey floor of the room that was located adjacently to where the interrogation was held at HPD headquarters. Despite his insistence that he be present during the questioning, Chief Dann had vehemently denied him access. Instead, a one-way mirror separating him from Williams and Kapua was the closest he was going to get. Through the speakers, he could hear the interrogation taking place and much to his frustration, Williams seemed to be getting nowhere with his methods of questioning. The door opened and Steve McGarrett's tall frame dressed in a crisp navy blue suit walked into the room with deliberate strides.

"I gotta get in there, Steve!" Prescott said urgently.

McGarrett shook his head. "Connor, you're lucky to be even in this room."

"That punk is the only solid lead we have and Williams is wasting time! Get me in there, Steve! I'll make the bastard talk!" Prescott snapped.

Steve's glare silenced the officer long enough for him to have his say. "Firstly, the only person who wasted not just my time but the whole department's, is you!"

"Now wait a…" Prescott protested but was promptly cut off.

"I'm not finished. You were supposed to be on compassionate leave. What the hell were you doing at that house?" McGarrett demanded.

"I was doing your job!" Prescott snapped angrily.

Steve had had enough. Connor's insubordination and lack of self-control had to end right there. "I asked you a question. What were you doing in Sam Kapua's house?" He repeated in a dangerous tone that demanded nothing short of a reasonable and fast explanation.

"Trying to find my wife's killer!"

Steve released a sigh, and tried to lay it out to Prescott as calmly as the storm within him would allow, "You know better than to inject yourself into an investigation that has a personal connection to you. Megan's murder is as close to home as it gets."

Prescott could no longer find the words to form his defense. "So, what now?" He brushed a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Chief Dann wants to see you in his office. Now," Steve replied, a tinge of sadness creeping into his voice. There was no comfort he could offer his friend to reduce the severity of the repercussions that came with his actions.