Cujo III – Reloaded – This Time It's Personal
Chapter 10
No, I haven't abandoned the story. Just more difficult than usual to find time to write. I apologize for not being able to update sooner. Can't even blame it on my innate laziness and ADD attention span this time.
Errors all belong to Imaginary Beta. She's really getting on my nerves.
Disclaimer: If I made money from this, I could hire people to shoo away cats and husbands when they demand that I feed them . . . or hire a cook to feed them . . . or hire a hitman . . . whatever.
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Meetings
Kilkenny decided there was absolutely nothing else to learn from the crime scene. Maybe the C.S.I.'s could come up with something but he wasn't going to hold his breath. He swore to himself as he wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. Fucking island weather. Why he ever let his wife talk him into taking a job in Hawaii he had no idea. She thought it would be an adventure and he was stupid enough to go along with it. If they'd told him that he would be sweating through his shirt by eight in the morning he'd never even have gotten on the damned plane. At least he'd had a two week break from the old ball and chain. She and the kid were due back later today and the party would be over. He looked upward at the darkly mottled sky and hoped to hell it wouldn't rain. Rain would just turn the place into a giant sauna. Fucking Hawaii.
Reluctantly checking in with Williams, he'd learned the detective and Five-0's leader wouldn't be available to meet for another couple hours or so. He smiled to himself. Maybe Kiki's available for a 'meeting'.
His gloomy mood lightening, he turned to his partner, "Hey, Phil. Why don't I just drop you off at the station? There's no need for both of us to be tied up with those Five-0 assholes. You can get started on the last of the background checks on the vics."
Phil Brotman only nodded sourly. Actually, he wouldn't mind getting away from Mickey for a while. Even on a good day the guy was a downer. There was only so much of the arrogant jerk he could stand but he'd hang in with this latest partner because in another five months, he'd be able to retire with a full pension. He could tough it out until then, right? Kilkenny was one of the most annoying guys he'd ever partnered with . . . and he'd partnered with more than a few over the years.
Mickey was almost the ultimate 'What's in it for me?' kind of guy. If it didn't further his career or stroke his ego, he could be a real bastard about things. Well, at least he knew where he stood with him most of the time. There was no need to guess with Kilkenny.
Actually, though it went against his own code of conduct regarding backing up one's partner, he'd be on McGarrett's side if the two ever got into it again. He had no doubt the commander would come out on top in any fracas between the two. Mickey was tough but he was no match for the tattooed guy. Brotman had no doubt McGarrett could pulverize Mickey without breaking a sweat. He was aware of the commander's reputation. The muscles weren't just for show.
It was Mickey's doing that there was any animosity to begin with. When that drug case had gone south and Five-0 had to salvage it along with the people held hostage in that abandoned factory, it hadn't set well with HPD's detective in charge at the time. That little verbal scuffle at the funeral had threatened to become physical when Kilkenny had launched into a diatribe loudly stating the Governor's 'fucking pet cobra' was responsible for causing the firefight which ultimately resulted in the death of one of their own.
The fact there'd only been the one law enforcement fatality despite H.P.D's being totally outgunned and out maneuvered was testament to McGarrett's handling of the situation. The commander had blatantly put himself directly in the line of fire to effect a rescue of the hostages but Kilkenny seemed to harbor a hard-on about it and used every opportunity to voice his criticism. Brotman knew if it hadn't been for himself and Williams running interference between the two, the confrontation would have gotten bloody and he'd no doubt the blood would have been the belligerent HPD detective's.
Having the disrespect to confront the man at a funeral for a fellow officer was only one of many issues Detective Phil Brotman had with Detective Michael A. Kilkenny.
Oh for the day I can tell Mickey to go fuck himself! thought the tired older cop as he climbed out of the sedan that had pulled over at the curb in front of Honolulu P.D.'s headquarters. Until then, he'd do what needed to be done. Sighing in relief, he waved a hand in goodbye as Mickey pulled away into traffic.
…..
The cousins had finished up at the scene and arrived shortly after Danny and Steve had gotten back from county offices. All were glad to be back in the cooler air of H.Q. as it had turned out to be another steamy day. Even at this hour, it was still over eighty-five degrees and it still felt like a sodden blanket lay over the island; you know, just like normal for this time of year.
After only a few minutes of sorting through the documents before them, the pattern was becoming obvious.
Danny had excused himself to take Rachel's call. In the middle of the examination of the county's documents, there'd come the sound of the latest ring-tone the detective had assigned his ex. This time it had been the frightening sound effect from the shower scene in the movie Psycho. Their contentious relationship sometimes resulted in loudly expressed remarks from their ex-Jersey detective so he always tried to take her calls in as private a setting as possible. Though Rachel appeared the epitome of a refined English rose, she apparently held her own against Jersey's finest. It could get pretty loud.
As he, Chin and Kono sat surveying the paperwork laid out on the table; Steve shook his head and grimaced in self-chastisement for not connecting the dots sooner. When they'd driven up to the crime scenes, he'd apparently subliminally been aware of the 'For Lease' signs in the windows of nearby storefronts. Some of them still bore the signage of former occupancy by the purveyors of books.
Each coffee shop had been located near a struggling book store. Some of the stores had already gone out of business; those were the ones that hadn't shown up in the current online data. He now remembered the store across the parking lot from the last one was actually in the throes of its 'Going Out of Business' sale with all books discounted by fifty percent having been touted on a day-glow banner that had been strung across the front window.
By the second crime scene there'd been a niggling at the back of his mind that he was missing something. After all, so many establishments of all kinds had gone out of business recently due to the country's general economy but, looking back, he didn't know why he hadn't seen it before. Maybe it was the headache. Now, they just had to figure out what the hell it means.
"Okay, so now we may have a pattern but it looks like all those stores are owned by different people." said Chin as he glanced upward from the smart table to his boss who had his fingers pressed to the side of his head.
Kilkenny would be here within the hour for their 'collaborative' meeting, (if that was even possible), and they were in the process of summarizing their latest information to quickly bring him up to date so he would have no reason to tarry here.
"You sure you're okay brah?" asked the Hawaiian detective in concern as he looked appraisingly at the pale, tired looking man on the opposite side of the conference table.
"Yeah, just a headache." said Steve grumpily; annoyed with himself and with the question – well intentioned or not.
"Danny always said your turn with Cujo was coming Boss." smiled Kono, making a joke but concerned when she saw Steve rubbing at his temple.
"My turn?"
"Yeah, Cujo hadn't really tried to off you yet. Your turn was coming he said."
"Well, he and Danny seem to set each other off for some unexplainable reason so it's probably not a valid observation." smiled Steve though his grin was a little tight due to the pain in his head.
"You can say that again. I think Cujo deliberately tries to provoke our Jersey boy." observed Chin – not even ironically.
"Yeah and Danny can pretty much back anybody down just by words alone but Cujo doesn't seem to be intimidated by him or really anyone or anything unless you count my mom."
"Your mom can be pretty intimidating." smiled Chin, "I know she always kept me in line when your dad and I were partners and even before that when Doris was one of the chaperones at the dances at Kukui while I was in my senior year."
"You were probably a walk in the park compared to what Mary and I could get into." smiled Steve, thinking about his and his sister's 'adventures' while growing up.
"Yeah probably. Your dad was always saying his kids were hell on wheels. I myself am still amazed at some of the things you pulled."
"Just don't tell any of those stories to Danny. He'll never let me live them down." said Steve more than half seriously.
Pointedly quirking his brows, Chin replied "Now that I think of it, I've probably got some great blackmail material."
"Just remember that I'm still your boss." smiled McGarrett at his sinewy detective.
"Boss, you spoil all the fun." laughed Kono
Just then Danny, still speaking on his phone, walked into the room. "Yeah, Monkey, I'm sure Uncle Steve is looking forward to going to show-and-tell with you and Cujo. Uh huh, I'll tell him. We'll make sure to polish up Cujo's badge so it will look good for your presentation. Now, go do your homework. Remember that we both have to stay on mommy's good side right now." Ending the phone call he muttered, "If she has a good side."
"Show and tell?" asked Chin, raising his brows as he looked across the table at his battered boss.
"Long story." Muttered his boss, not wanting to explain how he'd been manipulated by a ten-year-old girl who could turn him into a puddle of mush by just looking at him with those big brown eyes.
"Uh huh. I bet."
"So, whadda we got Big Kahuna? Your theory pan out?" asked the blonde detective rubbing his hands together in anticipation as he came to stand beside Steve.
…
He was happy and purring. The wonderful things were here whenever he wanted to look at them or play with them. None of the humans knew of his secret hiding place, not even his chosen human. A cat must have his secrets.
There were several other sparkly things in the pile and things that rolled and things that crackled and even things that squeaked! They were all his.
He'd tunneled under the heavy carpet to where his treasures waited. Even in the darkness he could feel them and smell the scent that lingered on their surfaces. He growled at the smell of that awful stuff that still clung to the last addition to his collection. It was the most sparkly of them all and he'd finally stolen it from the tall female when she wasn't looking.
He didn't forget. She had made him smell awful and he wouldn't forget what she'd done. He'd just have to be a bit more careful on his next raid. He amused himself for another moment as he batted at the ball that jingled before abandoning it to hook a claw into the long soft piece of cloth he'd found next the loud man one time when he'd stayed at his human's living place and had fallen asleep in the room with the talking box. It had been a little awkward to drag it here but he'd managed. Now it's his. Now all this is his.
He just could not figure out how to get into that talking box. At first, he'd thought he could catch the creatures and things that moved in it but after batting at it in attempts to reach them; he realized it was covered with the same kind of stuff that kept him from escaping into the outdoors. He could see through it but he couldn't find a way to get in or out as the case may be.
The place where his chosen human lived had many such openings with that stuff over them but sometimes it was okay to go outside and play in the big litterbox and sometimes it wasn't. He didn't understand why. Humans made no sense.
He knew he was never allowed outside the place with the mice and shiny slippery ground and many places to nap though he'd managed to escape more than once. It always seemed to upset the humans there for some reason. It was fun to outsmart them and make them chase him. Humans were easy to lure into playing . . . and they weren't all that smart.
Anyway, it annoyed him when they laughed at him when he tried to catch the things in the talking box. He didn't like to be laughed at. He'd make them sorry.
…
Eyes closed, Mickey Kilkenny turned over in bed to stretch contentedly. Kiki is a pistol. She could make money with her skills . . . and he wasn't talking about her journalistic ones. Well, he mused to himself, she sort of did – make money that way.
Exchanging information for her favors was an okay deal for everyone involved. He got what he wanted and she got information that would put her one over on the competition but it was a good thing this was only a sometime occurrence. He didn't think he could survive a regular relationship with the tigress. She'd probably kill him but, what a way to go.
"Mickey sweetie, tell me again what the crime scene looked like at this last one? Were the bodies all lined up neatly or were they just randomly scattered around? Did the blood cover the entire floor?"
Startled from his reverie, he looked across the room at the dressing table where she sat running a brush through her dark, glossy, hair. She hadn't bothered to put on a robe after her shower and he could appreciate the voluptuous scenery before him. She's certainly a cold-hearted bitch but that doesn't change anything. A deal is a deal.
"They were all lined up neatly in front of the counter, Kiki. I told you this before. The blood well . . ." he tried not to shudder; whether at the thought of all the gore or at Kiki's strange iciness.
"I need to get a sense of how it felt to look at them." she said, turning toward him, knowing that he appreciated her sensuous display of silky skin. Well, whatever worked to get his cooperation. This was a fair trade as far as she was concerned. Besides, she knew he was addicted to her and would do pretty much anything she asked. She smiled her feral smile at the man lying naked in her bed.
"You get off on this shit don't you?" he asked, trying not to let his revulsion show as he stood and began to gather up his clothing.
"No, baby, I don't get off on it. What I do get off on is having information the other stations can't possibly get. What I get off on is the possibility that this information will get me the anchor spot at the station. "
"I don't have any illusions here Kiki about trading what I know for a roll in the hay but it has to mean something to you, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, it means I get to that network anchor job a lot sooner." she answered in a serious vein then chirped, "Lookout Katy Couric here I come." and returned to brushing her hair.
Humming to herself, she turned back toward the mirror and began to meticulously apply her make-up. She had another call to make as soon as Mickey left. Tonight, on the eleven o'clock, she'd blow them out of the water with her inside information.
Kilkenny sighed and checked the watch strapped to his wrist. He had to get to Five-0 headquarters and then to the airport to pick-up his wife and kid. Life was going to get a bit more complicated than it had been.
…
Kiki is nice. Kiki understands. He set the receiver back into its cradle on the old rotary style phone. His wife had tried to talk him into having one of those new cordless things but why would he bother if this one worked just fine?
Electronics weren't always best. Electronics are what make people ignore each other when they're sitting right next to one another. Computers and cell phones make children surly and disrespectful; playing games and texting or sexting or whatever it is they do these days. He'd heard the stories.
Electronics are the very reason he's alone now. Myra is gone. She'd had such faith in them; those doctors and their electronics.
He hummed along as he carefully honed the steel blade on the whetstone fastened to his work bench. Puccini played in the background from the compact disc player he'd consented to having placed on the cabinets behind him. That time Myra had been right. Listening to such glorious music was soothing as he went about his work. The knife was almost sharp enough.
…
Steve looked pale and his face had that scrunched look like he was trying to ignore something that hurt. It had been a long day and a possibly productive one but keeping Steve from throttling Detective Kilkenny during the meeting had been stressful and Danny was tired. After Mickey left and several more hours without headway, they'd finally called it a night after arguing successfully with HPD to up their patrols of the coffee chain's locations that were anywhere near a bookstore.
"So, how's your head?" asked Danny, trying to keep the snark out of his question.
"Hurts." was the honest but too brief reply from the passenger.
"Doesn't seem to have slowed you down much." smiled Danny as he steered the Camaro toward McGarrett's; driving his own car this time - testament to his partner's increasingly nagging headache.
"What do you mean?" asked the tall man as he once again rubbed at his temples careful to avoid the giant white Band-Aid decorating the shaved strip over his ear. Danny had already told him that it looked like someone had slapped a maxi-pad on his head. Steve was not a happy man at the moment.
"I mean, a bald patch, stitches and a bandage haven't lessened your lethal charm at all. Maybe we should see about getting you on one of those reality shows. You know, the ones where if you get chosen by the girl, you get a shitload of money, as well as the girl, as a prize."
"Shut up Danny." grumped the man in the passenger's seat; too tired and head too achy to go along with his partner's teasing.
"Come on big guy. There's money to be made and that's only on the straight shows. We haven't even thought about the ones on the LOGO channel. Apparently, your charm works across the board."
"You'd better not be suggesting what I think you are."
"Hey, I'm not the one with a date with Dave Matsui."
"That was a misunderstanding and you damned well know it."
"I wonder if he'll bring you flowers?" mused Danny as he watched his partner's face redden.
"You really wanna go there? If so, I'm sure there's more dumpster diving in your future."
"You wouldn't." said the detective, now anxious that maybe he'd pushed Steve a bit too far.
"I would if you don't knock it off and help me figure out a way to get out of that meeting with Dave. Maybe you should come with us."
"Threesomes are not my thing big guy." This is just too easy, silently grinned Danny.
"All right! That's it! You are going to be crawling through a mountain of overheated garbage at the first opportunity that presents itself!"
"Hey! No fair! Just because I don't want to go along as a chaperone on your date!"
"It's not a date dammit!" thundered McGarrett, his head feeling about to explode.
"Maybe you can take Cujo. I'm sure he'll protect your virtue."
If there was a button to push that would make Danny vaporize into the atmosphere at that moment, Steve would push it.
*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*
Reviews would be much appreciated even if I don't deserve them. Next chapter will come sooner but may have to lock ninja cats and husband in the garage for a couple of days. (Don't worry, I'll make sure to leave them food and kibble).