Chapter 7

Here's the next. Sorry I missed the Sunday deadline but I hope you like 'the talk'. Please let me know what you think of it. To all those who commented, followed and favorited; as I've stated before, I don't take any of that for granted and really appreciate it and enjoy hearing from you.

Note: Mention of the 'other side' of an incident in an earlier story was thrown into this chapter. Had to lighten up a bit. I was depressing myself.

Disclaimer: Only in dreams do I get paid for this. Reality just sucks.

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Out There

Two of HPD's best detectives had been sworn to secrecy. Duke Lukela had arranged for them to quietly investigate a death that had already been declared an accident. There'd been special consideration because, though not officially, the victim had been connected to the law enforcement community.

The two were happy to help. McGarrett, whether you liked him or not, was the driving force behind the crew that would do whatever it took to keep the island's inhabitants, cops included, safe from evildoers and they respected him – in spades.

Some considered him the smartest, toughest cop on the island. Some considered him the most reckless and arrogant cop on the island. The two opinions weren't mutually exclusive but all recognized him as fearless, frighteningly focused and totally badass.

Detectives Pahia and Tetrov had wasted no time going back through every possible lead until they'd run across a report from a guy who'd contacted HPD several weeks ago. Well, actually, the guy's aunt had contacted them.

At the time, she'd been considered just another of the 'out there' callers they'd get from time to time. The woman is an ardent conspiracy theorist and it wasn't her first contact with HPD. The report hadn't gone anywhere because whoever it was handed to had considered its source and 'filed' it.

Mrs. Hani Hulama had reported that her nephew had told her of taking a call from someone who wanted to buy a compressed-gas cylinder. The odd thing was that its potential purchaser didn't care what was in the cylinder; it just had to be heavy. Just that morning she'd read the online account of the accident that had killed Catherine Rollins and couldn't get it out of her head. She felt there had to be some connection.

Feeling there may be a faint chance of relevancy, they contacted her for an interview. Upon arrival at her home, they found her seated on her lanai with her Yorkie in her lap. They questioned her as she fed it treats and cooed at the little dog as though it was a baby. The 'baby' bared its teeth at the two detectives as Mrs. Hulama explained to them that Amoka, her sister's kid, was nice but not the most ambitious nor intelligent of her relatives. Anyway, in her opinion, he smoked way too much pakalolo.

Confirming the details of her phone conversation with HPD, she excitedly gave them her nephew's number. They thanked her for her time as the little dog growled at them and she shushed it with more baby talk until they were out of sight.

"Why the hell do people even keep those little rats?" asked John Tetrov of his partner as they walked back to where they'd parked.

"You'd think she'd birthed the little bastard herself." snorted Manny Pahia as they climbed into their sedan and cranked up the air conditioning. "That was just weird."

As his partner drove, Tetrov picked up his cell and gave Williams a call.

…..

Even though they'd called him beforehand, the man they'd come to interview looked a bit embarrassed when the two Hawaiian detectives showed up at his workplace, Island Industrial Gasses. Chin and Kono were ushered into a small conference room that seemed to double as a lunch room; evidence being a grease-smeared table and various empty and not so empty food containers and wrappers strewn about. Out of the corner of her eye, Kono saw a roach scurry away to disappear under the grimy baseboard.

As they settled in the mismatched chairs, the pudgy local who looked as greasy as the table and wore what seemed inch-thick eyeglasses and a wrinkled T-shirt asked if they'd like a soda. His nearsighted gaze roved over the Hawaiian woman in a not so subtle way as he said, "You look hot. Maybe a cool drink would be nice?"

Kono quickly declined without even a small smile. Even though the day was a hot one and something cold to drink did sound good; anything served up in this environment, by this guy, even if in a sealed can, was a bit suspect. Kono wondered if the health department ever inspected 'conference' rooms.

Getting right to it, the cousins began the interview. Amoka Russell stated he'd told his aunt to chill; that he'd had weirder calls during his way too many years as a customer service rep not only here but at other places as well. His Auntie Hani had explained her concern and it did sound a bit suspect but the woman was a little 'different' in his words and he pretty much took nothing she said very seriously. "I mean, how serious can you take a woman who practically has a dog attached to her tit twenty-four-seven? It's like that little rodent is her baby. It don't even like me so I never go over there."

The cousins nodded. They'd already gotten word about the dog from Pahia and Tetrov. Apparently the two HPD detectives had the same impression.

At their prompting, Russell continued: "My company sells many different kinds of gasses and related products. A little over a month ago I get a call from a guy who wants to buy some gas. I'm like, okay, that was what I'm here for - to take orders for gas - so what kind you want I ask him. All I get in answer is 'huh?' like he don't know he even called a gas company."

"Go on." prompted Chin as Amoka had apparently paused for effect.

"So then I ask him, what you use if for? An' he say it's none of my business."

"That's a little odd." confirmed Kono wishing she hadn't as Amoka gave her a cheesy smirk.

"I been doing this kind of work for long time. Nothing much bothers me so I stay polite an' tell him that many gasses require special permits to purchase them. The guy then asks which ones don't require special permits. I tell him the most common is oxygen."

"So you're saying he called here to buy a tank of gas and didn't know what kind he wanted?"

"Yeah, the guy some kind lolo. He finally say, 'Look Keanu, I don't give a damn what kind, I just need a heavy tank.' I tell him he could just buy a empty tank if that's what he wants."

The roach from earlier, (at least it looked like the same one), reappeared and seemed to be making a bee-line for Chin's shoe. Kono tapped him and he looked down in disgust thinking, It's a good thing Steve isn't here, he'd have shot it.

Amoka continued, "The guy sound surprised like he didn' think of that then he put me on hold. After another minute or two the guy comes back to say he need to buy a tank that has something in it and asks if oxygen comes in a big, heavy, cylinder and I tell him it comes in tanks up to three-hundred pounds. He puts me on hold again, then comes back and asks if there's a hundred-pound tank available. I tell him there is and he says thanks, that he'll be in touch and hangs up."

"That's it?"

"Yeah but it's not the weirdest call I've ever gotten."

Apparently feeling comfortable with the Hawaiian detectives, the rep proceeded to tell them the tale of the time he worked for an online gift company and had gotten a panicky call from a guy who needed to cancel his order for ten-thousand boxes of chocolates. They were the kind where each truffle was wrapped individually in foil with racy sayings printed on them. The caller had explained he only wanted one box to be sent to his girlfriend stationed overseas and that his cat had jumped onto the keyboard and sat on the key that had added several zeroes to the order quantity and then when chased off had stepped on the enter key and confirmed the order.

Amoka had cancelled the order saying he would be concerned about a guy who had use for so many boxes of romantic chocolates.

"That could probably be hazardous to a guy's health in more ways than one." laughed the greasy little rep as he leered myopically at Kono.

She was about to roll her eyes in response when that roach decided to make a grand reappearance and ran across the table in front of them. Both detectives quickly stood and thanked Amoka for his information then made for the exit. Kono involuntarily shivered but was sure it wasn't because of the insect.

….

"Steven, I'm so glad to finally talk to you." said Amanda Rollins

"Yes ma'am, it's nice to speak with you also. Sorry I missed your earlier calls Mrs. Rollins."

"Don't worry about it and you know you can call me Mandy, right? There's no reason not to and even though you and Cathy never formalized it, we've always considered you umm, well, her other half."

Though he shouldn't have been, Steve was surprised at the woman's words. He didn't know Cath had talked much to her parents about their relationship. He'd only met them briefly a couple of times during holiday trips. They seemed like nice people.

"Thank you." he answered, not knowing what else to say.

"It's just that we were always so many miles away we never got a chance to get to know you that well. As hard as it was for her father and me to lose her; we know for you it must have been . . . well, we know you loved her as much as she did you."

Clearing his suddenly clogged throat, he replied, "Thank you ma'am, umm, Mandy. Cath loved you both very much. She always talked about you as being the perfect parents. You umm . . . you raised a wonderful daughter." He wanted to say more but this was difficult.

Sensing he'd run out of words, Mandy Rollins picked up the ball, "We were looking forward to getting to know you better. She thought the world of you and loved you with all her heart. Never ever doubt that Steve."

"I didn't doubt it. I never doubted Cath about anything".

He wanted to hang up now. This was getting too intense and he could feel something fluttering within that he had no intention of letting out.

"We'd looked forward to visiting, especially after Cathy told us about the baby. We were so excited then . . . " Amanda Rollins' voice tapered off as though she'd just realized something. Cathy had told her she intended to tell him during dinner on the night she'd been killed. He may not know.

The air seemed to be suddenly thicker and harder to breathe. It clogged his lungs and made his chest ache. Baby? He couldn't get the word out.

There was only silence on the other end of the call. "Steven? Are you there?"

There was still no answer; just the sound of an unsteady exhale. Cath's mother realized Steve had no clue about the pregnancy. Oh my God. What had she just done?

"Steven?" she asked again, voice worried and tense.

"I . . . I'm sorry . . . I have to go now." he barely managed to choke out then in an apologetic mumble added, "We have a case."

"Steven?"

"Danny? I need to talk to you a minute." announced Steve beckoning Danny into his office and shutting the door behind them.

"Yeah Rambo, what's up?" asked Danny as he tucked his paperwork under his arm and entered Steve's office. His partner's face revealed nothing but the detective could feel claws beginning to dig into his stomach lining as he took the chair to which he'd been pointed.

The tall man, arms crossed, stood before his desk. He took a deep breath before he exhaled and bit out, "What's going on Danny?"

"Huh?" asked the blonde, eyebrows rising

"What's with the stealthy conversations with Duke?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Steve."

Eyes now flat and dark, the SEAL smiled tightly and asked, "Don't you?"

"Why would I be talking to Duke? How about the fact that I talk to my friends sometimes without first getting your permission. You do know that's what normal people do every once-in-awhile."

Steve didn't reply. He continued to stare without blinking and Danny could feel a shiver go down his spine. This could get ugly.

"What's the matter with you? What's with the friggin' third-degree? Do I have to worry that you're going to get out the two-hundred watt spotlight and the rubber hose?"

Ignoring the remark and with teeth tightly clenched Steve reiterated, "Why is Duke calling you about a homicide investigation?"

Figuring offense is better than defense at the moment Danny calmly asked, "What's with the paranoia big guy?"

"Don't give me any bullshit Danny! I know you're hiding something." said Steve, voice now lowered to the threatening, whispery, growl so effective when interrogating suspects.

"What the fuck are you talking about? You really gotta get this . . . thing . . . under control man. It's not helping."

"Don't try to make me out to be a paranoid freak godammit! I know you're hiding something!" said Steve, voice now rising from the low growl to a louder and possibly more threatening one.

Danny, uneasy at his partner's growing level of intensity, was beginning to feel trapped in the glass walled space. "Steven," he began placatingly, "Let's take this down a notch and we'll go get a beer and talk, huh?"

"I'm not fucking stupid! WHAT ARE YOU HIDING GODDAMMIT!" Steve slammed his hand down on his desktop hard enough to knock the heavy marble and bronze clock/pen holder off its edge with a loud crash but didn't even seem to notice.

Even though every cell in his body was screaming a warning, Danny calmly sat contemplating his partner whose normally icy composure was now a thing of the past. Steve stood before him eyes flashing and neck veins standing out like the roots of a banyan tree.

The two stared intensely at one another in silence for several more moments; the expression on one that of intense anger; the expression on the other that of cautious but calm evaluation.

Chin and Kono, alerted by the noise, stood by the smart table and stared in their direction; looking poised to break up what may turn into a physical confrontation during which someone is sure to be injured.

After more than a minute of a tense, wordless, staredown, Danny broke the contretemps. He exhaled the breath he'd been holding and quietly said, "Okay Steve. I'll tell you what I found out if you'll promise me something."

"I'm not playing any of your stupid fucking games Danny!" declared the tall man, eyes flashing, breathing as though he'd just run a 10-K.

Danny sat quietly staring back at his scarily angry friend; waiting for a calmer and slightly more muted response.

Finally Steve, with eyes narrowed, growled out, "What is it that you want?"

"I'll give you the information if you promise to let HPD continue their investigation without your interference or . . . ", Danny held up his hand to stop the predictable outburst, as Steve stood with fists bunched, ". . . or you running off with pockets full of lethal ordnance on a friggin' quest for revenge." firmly stated the detective; pale eyes unwaveringly locked on dark ones that glared down at him.

He could see Steve actually trembling with anger and frustration before giving a sharp nod of agreement.

They'd met at his house that night. Everything had been laid out; every finding on the case.

Taking the information given by the employee of Island Industrial Gas, Kono had tracked purchases from all three companies on the island that dealt with that type of product and had come across a recent purchase of a hundred-pound tank of oxygen that couldn't be tracked back to a company or individual that would have legitimate need for it.

The charge card used was one of those disposable pre-paid kind that can be purchased with cash from any number of retailers. The name used for the purchase was, of course, fictitious but the card's purchase had been tracked to a drug store in the Los Angeles area. HPD had quietly confirmed the serial number on the tank that had come off the back of the truck and caused Catherine's death was the same number as on one purchased at Trade Winds Industrial Elements. Pahia and Tetrov had interviewed personnel there and had come away with the description of a man who was most likely a local and were now trying to track down who that might be.

The Los Angeles Police Department had been contacted about the card and as soon as they could pin it down a little more solidly, someone from HPD, likely Pahia and Tetrov would be traveling to L.A. to investigate further.

Steve had taken it all in calmly and had asked several pertinent questions. They'd ordered a pizza and eaten a quick dinner as they'd further discussed the details of the investigation. Steve had thanked them for their diligence and for not giving up when Catherine's death had been ruled accidental. Even though he'd not eaten any dinner, which was understandable considering the circumstances, he seemed calm and focused. Maybe, just maybe, they could all get through this in one piece thought Danny.

Not knowing if anyone already knew of it, Steve had never mentioned the pregnancy. He couldn't deal with it right now and more so, couldn't deal with the additional betrayal if anyone on his team did know about it and didn't tell him. He'd have to think about how to handle that when this was over if he was still around to do so. It was time to put all of that stuff to the side. He had work to do.

…..

Everyone had left hours ago - even his partner. He sat staring into darkness that seemed to wrap around him with such a smothering density it allowed no lesser shade to defeat its opacity.

So that's why she wanted to have dinner that night. She wanted to tell me she was pregnant. She wanted to tell me I was going to be a father.

He couldn't even cry. He couldn't feel anything. He was numb.

He had no idea how long he'd sat there. Looking up from the old wooden chair facing the water, he realized the sky was beginning to lighten. Returning to the house, he picked up his keys.

Arriving in the palace's parking lot just as the sun threatened to peek over the rim of the horizon, he shut off the engine and slid out of the truck to walk up the steps and let himself into the building. No one would be in for at least another hour and a half. Striding quickly across the lobby and taking the stairs two at a time he came to Five-0's floor. He punched in his code then proceeded quickly across the outer office to his own. With a tired sigh he strengthened his resolve and opened his desk drawer to take out a sheet of paper and an envelope. Plucking the pen out of the cracked marble holder on his desk, he scribbled purposefully. Quickly finishing, he folded the single sheet and slipped it into the envelope and sealed it then jotted a name on the outside.

He picked up his keys and wallet, left his cell and badge on the blotter and dropped the envelope on Danny's desk on his way toward the exit. He never looked back.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Was sorry to hear that Michelle Borth is leaving the show. I think her character helped to 'humanize' our SEAL. Hopefully, it will all work out.

The story will move to a different setting soon and whump's a comin' in another couple chapters. PLEASE review.