Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is a proper noun. No copyright infringement intended.

"How's Rachel?"

Danny was resting his forehead on his interlocked fingers, elbows propped on his desk, when Steve walked into his office. He had just hung up with Rachel. It had been a long, fretful night and he didn't know if he was trying to wake up from a nightmare, black out the world and make everything disappear, or communicate with the creator of the universe and implore him to break tradition and come through for him this time, and if not for him, for his cherished daughter. Grace was the light of his life. She was pure and innocent and everything that was right with the world and she did not deserve this. It should be him. His meditation, intended on soothing his internal struggles, was doing the opposite.

Steve's voice had brought him out of his disquieting interlude. Danny raised his head and opened his hands in question. "Um, how do you think she's doing? That's the…"

"…stupidest question I've ever asked." Steve finished Danny's assessment. "Sorry," he added as he sat in the chair across the desk from his partner.

"Yeah, well, maybe not the stupidest... but something like that." Danny forced a half smile and waved his hand in dismissal and forgiveness. He was tired and on edge and he recognized it for what it was. He felt helpless and his nerves were prickling on the surface which left him feeling peculiarly vulnerable. "I don't know. She's numb, but she's strong, giving Charlie lots of hugs. Stan's with her."

Steve nodded. "Look, we've got all hands-on-deck out there going over every traffic cam video, canvassing every house and business in the area around the school, interviewing everyone that was at the school, checking on every registered Colorado, following up on every lead. We're not going to stop 'til we've got her back, Danny. I promise." He paused and then continued. "I promise, we'll get her back… safe." He knew the attempt was pointless, and that he probably should not have used the "p" word. He knew better. He had reprimanded Danny for making the same pledge to distraught parents in a similar position in the past, but he had to say something to reassure his brother and simultaneously, himself as well.

Danny appreciated the sentiment and understood what his partner was attempting to do, and therefore didn't challenge him on it. "Yeah, I know. Thanks." The few words seemed so shallow and unconvinced even though he was trying to reciprocate the support.

Chin made an appearance at the door and hoped he wasn't interrupting. "Fellas, come here. You're going to want to see this."

"What 'cha got?" Steve was out of Danny's office first but Danny quickly pushed back from his desk and followed close behind.

"I think Kono may have an ID on our guy," Chin stated over his shoulder as they approached the central computer. Lou stood with one hand leaning on the table and Kono was paused, hand resting on her hip, waiting on the pair to join the group. When they did, she took over.

"Okay, so we took Danny's findings on a possible MO and ran with it… and…" She typed into the computer and sent info to the big screen. "We found a similar pattern with several homicides radiating from the urban Indianapolis area. There were five vics total, male and female. Four were current or former actors and there was one stage hand. All were from different acting companies in and around the Indy area. The posing of the bodies was consistent with our guy."

"So, he's here now, on our island," Steve concluded.

"Actually, this happened five years ago..."

"So, the idiot took a break and found his way to paradise," Lou interrupted.

Kono shook her head in correction. "No. Local law enforcement apprehended the suspect. His name was Beckett Thomason." She sent a photo up to the screen.

"Was?" Steve asked.

"Yep, didn't even make it to trial. Died of a previously unknown, congenital heart ailment before they could convict."

Steve closed his eyes momentarily in thought and then shook his head as he held out his hand and offered a possible explanation. "Okay, so maybe they got the wrong guy?"

"No. He made a confession and DNA evidence confirmed."

Danny had been listening intently, soaking it all in but finally spoke. "So, we still don't know who the bastard is after all. All we got is a stinkin' dead end? That's just fantastic!" Danny didn't try to conceal his frustration. He turned his back to the group and walked to stare out the window.

"Wait, Danny, there's more." Kono made an attempt to reengage his interest. Danny turned to face the others but stayed where he was.

Kono continued, "At the time, there was some speculation that there could be someone else helping him. Some of the physical aspects of moving the victims and general doubt that one person could pull off some of the disappearances, but the idea was eventually shut down due to lack of evidence, time constraints, and public pressure to close the case. The theory couldn't be proven."

She had Danny's full attention again. "Two people… now that would be unusual in the world of serial killers." Danny glanced at Steve remembering a prior conversation.

"Unusual, yes, but not unheard of. There is precedent. Thomason had a seemingly estranged, older half-brother that was investigated at the time and ruled out because he lived in a neighboring state and always had an alibi. Hollis Killian is his name." Again, she sent an image to the screen beside Thomason's, this time a driver's license photo since there was not a mug shot available. Even though the last man added to the screen was older than Thomason, a definite similarity was evident, especially in the eyes.

"So, why are you bringing him up now if he was exonerated?" Lou asked.

"Because I ran a check on him anyway and found something very interesting. He had purchased a one-way ticket to Oahu in the spring of last year. Only thing is, we don't have a location on him now. There was not a return ticket under his name and if he's here now, it's gotta be under an alias."

"But what about the alibis?" Steve questioned.

"Haven't figured that one out yet, maybe somebody messed up or didn't dig enough?" Kono suggested.

There was a slight pause as everyone digested what had been reported to them, then Kono added, "Also, one of the pieces of evidence that was recovered in Indy was the Melpomene mask."

When she got confused expressions, she clarified, "The Greek tragedy mask." She sent a picture of both of the recognizable theater masks to the screen. Danny felt that shiver again. "We believe Danny saw the guy that took Steve wearing the counterpart, the comedy mask, Thalia."

"Why the theater connection? Do we know?" Steve asked.

"I think that's from their mother, Beatrice Thomason." Kono displayed her photo for all of them to see. "She had been an aspiring stage actress but hanged herself after a bout with major clinical depression that was deemed to be physiological but was exacerbated after being repeatedly rejected for roles."

"Wow, that's kinda sad. Didn't get the admiration her personality demanded and it drove her to suicide," Lou threw in.

"Pathetic, more like it," Steve said.

"Okay, so…" Danny expelled some of the suffocating stress with a huff of air and rejoined his team at the computer. "This psycho, Beckett Thomason, murdered these people and was probably, somehow, helped by his equally psycho, half-brother, Hollis Killian, for the purpose of some sort of sick retribution for the perceived blame they laid on their truly innocent victims, for the death of their narcissistic, thespian mother. Now, little brother is a casino buffet for maggots and imbecile big brother picks up the mantle, years later, mind you, but doesn't miss a beat killing more innocent people and this time his spree is here, on my island. And this time he's got Grace." The last sentence was slower and softer than the previous ones as he wound down. The summation rant had been comprised of one hand planted firmly on his hip and one hand, conversely flailing through the air. His friends let him finish his catharsis, knowing he needed to get it out.

Lou was the first to speak. "Very eloquently spoken, my friend. Couldn't have said it better myself."

"And you're right. He is an imbecile to have come here. He doesn't realize who he's up against this time. This is where it ends." Steve added his declaration.

"What I don't get is, why Steve?" Chin turned to look at Steve and continued, "Why you? Why did he call in to Five-0 that night and get us involved? Sounds counterintuitive if you're wanting to evade capture."

"And… we're still not sure if he intentionally meant for you to be one of his murder victims. Thankfully it didn't work out that way if so," Kono added.

"Oh, I think he did. I think the smug son of a bitch was leaning against that truck, foot comfortably propped up on the bumper behind him, waiting for a show." Danny verbalized his thoughts.

"Well, he got one, just not what he intended I'm sure," Chin contributed.

"I may have an idea on why he called us," Kono continued. "My last point, that I hadn't gotten to, was that the last victim in Indianapolis…" she paused as she checked to see if it looked like Danny could hear what she was about to say and decided to continue, "…happened to be the daughter of a captain in the city's force. She was twenty-six and engaged to be married. I don't know if Thomason was just coincidently sloppy that time or if more law enforcement time and resources were put on the investigation because it was a cop's family member, but the evidence from that particular homicide is what led to Thomason's arrest."

"So, you're thinking his brother's incorporating revenge on law enforcement into his killing spree?" Steve caught on. "And Five-0 has become his target and he's using Danny's daughter as his weapon."

Danny corrected him. "Plaything, Five-0 has become his plaything and he's using Grace as a game piece. It's all a big game, a big freakin' cat and mouse game, solely for his entertain…" Danny paused as he felt the familiar buzz of a text alert, "…ment," he finished as he pulled out his phone. He felt his heart flutter when he saw Grace's photo light up. The text was from her phone. He read the message before he divulged the identity of the sender to the others.

Tell them it's her mother. Then excuse yourself to someplace private.

Danny felt as though maybe some of the blood drained from his head and he wondered if he had physically swayed. Coming back to his senses, he was forced into some acting of his own. "It's, ah, Rachel. I'll… be right back." He quickly headed toward his office.

"Hey, I thought she was with Stan. Is everything okay?" Steve was curious and called after him.

"Um, not sure. I'll let you know in a minute."

Danny closed the door to his office and settled into his chair. His texted reply was short and anxious.

OK. Now what?

His phone rang. It was Grace's number. Danny answered without any greeting. "If you hurt her, you, sick, son of a bitch, I WILL kill you!"

The man, Danny believed to be Hollis Killian, didn't answer with the anticipated, condescending response to Danny's threat. It irked Danny that he wouldn't even try to rebut or challenge him back, or even reprimand him for the pejorative comment. Instead he got a simple question.

"Do you want to see her again?"

Danny mentally noted he wasn't like other hot-headed, egotistical lowlifes he had dealt with in the past. He adjusted his approach and decided against provocation. "You know I do. Can I talk to her?"

"No. She's fine, but if you're wanting to see her, you'll just have to trust me. Today is your lucky day. Listen carefully. … Are you listening, Detective?"

"Yes! I'm listening. Go on." He tried to rein in his embittered tone but couldn't help but let a little of his Jersey attitude seep into his voice. Danny already knew he was dealing with a psychopath that held Grace's life in his hands. The last thing he wanted to do was make him angry.

"Power off and leave your phone and your gun in your desk drawer and drive to the Kalihi-Palama bus station. Come alone. Just you, for now. I've booked an Uber to pick you up at the waiting pavilion there, at the far west corner of the lot. It'll be a white Ford Fusion. Mike is the driver's name. You'll tell him your name is Larry."

"What do I tell my team?"

"You'll need to come up with an excuse, but make it good. They can't know anything is amiss or she'll pay."

"Alright, alright, just don't hurt her. I'll do everything you say."

"The car will be there in seventeen minutes. Don't keep Mike waiting. Oh, and Detective, it's not just your team, no talking about this to your driver or anyone else, got it?"

"Yeah, got it."

Danny heard the call disconnect. His brain immediately started concocting his story.

~to be continued~

\,,,/BronsonL