Okay, almost half of this chapter is bad guy's POV again, but I found it better to explain what had happened as Steve is supposed to be out of it and not to know what's going on. But I promise there will be more Steve's and Danny's POV in future chapters!
And of course, I'd like to thank all of you who found a moment to review or/and message me. It means a lot.
McGarrett had car keys in his pocket.
Roederer drove the red Silverado to his chosen spot in just ten minutes.
They arrived at the hotel Host Hub guesthouse. He let the engine idle as he glanced around. There were other cars in the lot, but there was no one else here.
McGarrett and his friend were in the back of the car. They were awake, but neither of them was aware of where they were. Lynn was whimpering, her words unintelligible. McGarrett was breathing deeply, almost asleep. The man and the woman working with him were in the car, too. He didn´t know their names and they didn´t know him either. He preferred it that way.
Roederer reversed into space nearest the door to the booked room. He stepped out, crossed the narrow veranda, and examined his surroundings carefully. He saw two small cameras fixed to the underside of the veranda roof.
"Wait here," he said into the car.
He followed the cables that led from the cameras along the ceiling of the veranda. They reached the end of the building before crossing the gap to a freestanding building a few yards away. He approached it. There was a sign reading OFFICE next to the door.
He stood by the door for a moment and listened carefully. Nothing. He reached into his pocket and took out the box of powdered green nitrile gloves that he had purchased earlier that afternoon. He pulled out a pair and put them on and tried the door handle. It was unlocked. He opened the door slowly and stepped into a small office. He saw a PC, a cash box, a row of shelves, and piles of paper.
It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. He looked up at the ceiling and saw the point where the cables that led to the cameras entered the room. They descended along the join between two walls into a cupboard next to the door. He opened the cupboard. There was an old-fashioned digital video recorder on a shelf. He pulled it out, yanked the cables from the back, and, after satisfying himself that there was no one who might see him outside, he took it back to the car and dropped it in the trunk.
He crossed back beneath the now-defunct cameras, unlocked the door to the room, and pushed it open.
He signaled to his accomplices. They opened their doors and stepped outside. McGarrett was first, the man on one side of him and the woman on the other as they dragged him across the lot. McGarrett's toes caught on the edge of the veranda and then scraped along the wood as they brought him inside. They hauled him to the bed, turned him around and then let him fall back onto the mattress. McGarrett groaned, then started to mumble something that Roederer couldn't understand. It didn't matter. He was too far gone to go anywhere or do anything.
Roederer followed the man and woman back to the car. Lynn was asleep, her head turned to face the door, snoring gently. They reached down and eased her out. There was no point in trying to help her to walk, so the man scooped her up in his arms and crossed the short distance back to the veranda and the room. He laid her in a chair.
The woman paused at the door. "What do you want us to do now?"
"You're done," Roederer said. "You can go."
They didn't question him, nor ask what the rest of his plan would entail. They would be able to join the dots if they read the news tomorrow, but Roederer was unconcerned. They were paid well. They had no idea who either of the people on the bed were, nor the reasons for Roederer´s attention to them.
Roederer waited for them to go and then went back outside to the car. He opened the door and took out the plastic bag with the items that he had purchased earlier that afternoon. He took the bag inside, closed the door, turned the key and fitted the safety chain. He did not want to be disturbed.
McGarrett hadn't moved. Roederer crossed the room to the bed and looked down at him: he was breathing easily, in and out, his eyes closed. It looked as if he was asleep. The powder contained flunitrazepam and was ten times more powerful than the diazepam found in Valium. It relaxed the muscles, reduced anxiety, and had a strong sedative effect. It also produced strong amnesia, which was one of the reasons Roederer had chosen it over the alternatives.
Roederer addressed the room. He had things to do.
He took the bottles and cans from the bag and stood them all out on the table.
Twelve cans of Budweiser.
Two bottles of Elijah Craig Kentucky straight bourbon whiskey.
He took one of the six-packs into the bathroom, pulled the ring pull on each of them, and poured the contents down the sink. He took the empties into the bedroom, pushed the cans into his victims´ hands to secure their fingerprints, and dumped them in and around the bin. He collected one of the bottles of bourbon and, after ensuring the fingerprints would be on them again, cranked off the lid and poured it out over the bed. He tipped a little over McGarrett's chest and then rested the bottle on the edge of the bed, allowing it to glug out onto the floor until it was half empty.
Then he took the other bottle and dropped it on the tile, the liquid splashing everywhere, rivulets that ran around the shards of freshly razored glass.
He took the car key from his pocket and threw it on the bedside table.
Only one more thing to do. He turned to Lynn. She was still asleep. Her head had fallen back, exposing her long and shapely neck. He crossed the room until he was standing over her. She had been useful to him. Her previous closeness to McGarrett made her an ideal candidate. She resisted at first, but after exposing her weaknesses she was almost as easy to blackmail as the barman. But her utility was coming to an end. She had done well, but she had one last role to play. It was unfortunate for her, but necessary. Bad luck. Roederer didn't care.
A strand of hair had fallen over her face. Roederer reached down and gently pushed it away with one gloved finger.
He leaned down and eased the girl onto the floor. She stirred a little, snuffling in her sleep, but she did not wake. Roederer knelt down on either side of her body, her loose arms pinned to her sides by his knees. He reached for her throat with both hands, his fingers on either side and his thumbs meeting over her larynx.
And then he squeezed.
Her eyes opened, bulging with panic, but there was nothing that she could do. He was too strong and her body was deadened by the sedative. Roederer pressed down hard until the muscles in his arms locked.
It didn't take long. Her weakness meant that he could be precise, placing his thumbs to ensure that he cut off the flow of blood to her brain.
After a few moments, she stopped her gentle struggling and lay still.
Roederer kept pressing down for another ten seconds and then he relaxed his grip. He stood, took the girl by the wrists and dragged her body across the room. He left her in the tiny bathroom.
He inspected her throat: red shadows from his fingers were already evident, darkening as the bruises slowly started to form. McGarrett had not stirred. Roederer looked at him and thought how easy it would be to kill him now. He was as helpless as a baby. But he didn´t want to do that. Yet.
Quite the opposite.
He checked the room one final time and, satisfied with his work, he opened the door and stepped out onto the veranda. He pulled the door to, not quite closing it, and then crossed the lot to his waiting car.
Danny didn´t give it much thought when Steve didn´t show up before nine in the morning. It sounded like he was having fun when Danny had called him, so maybe he and Lynn stayed up late and Steve took his time to get out of the bed. Not that anyone mind. The boys were happy they could be together and Danny enjoyed the calm Saturday morning with Grace around. The moments with his daughter were even more precious now, with her mostly staying at a college on the mainland.
But a few minutes past nine Danny´s phone rang and changed the course of his day, although he wasn´t aware of how much just yet.
"You have to go to work, don´t you?" Grace´s voice came from behind his back when he finished the call with the Governor.
He turned around and saw her standing in the doorway. "I´m sorry, monkey. I´ll try to wrap it up fast, okay? I´ll make it up to you when I come back."
"Don´t worry," she said. "Just be careful, please."
"I´m always careful."
"I know."
"By the way, uncle Steve has to go too," Danny said.
Before he could continue, Grace stepped in. "If you´re worried about the boys, don´t be. I´m an adult now. I can handle them both."
"Huh, are you?" Danny smirked.
"I´m twenty now."
"You´ll always be my baby girl," Danny protested.
"Danno…"
"I know, I know. Are you too grown-up to give your father a hug?"
Grace´s lips curled upwards as she closed the space between them and sank into Danny´s arms. "Never too old for that," she said.
"I love you, monkey," Danny said and hugged her tight.
"Love you too."
He let go after a few seconds, reluctant to spend the day at work. "Where are Charlie and Jamba, anyway?"
"Building a super-secret base in Charlie´s room." Grace shrugged. "Obviously we´re not allowed inside right now, so don´t even bother."
"Oh, right. Then tell them I and Steve have some work to do when they finally let you in."
"Will do."
"And give me a call if they cause you any trouble," he said, knowing it wouldn´t be necessary.
"Okay."
Danny said his goodbyes and headed to the address the Governor gave him. It was some kind of a cheap hotel in downtown Honolulu. He sent a text with the address to the rest of the team and tried to call Steve´s phone on his way, wondering why the Governor called him, not Steve, but his friend didn´t answer. He tried again in a few minutes, but with the same result.
The worry started to spike in his gut, but it dissipated when he saw Steve´s car parked up at the crime scene. He must´ve been there already.
When Danny got out of his Camaro, there was a whole HPD and CSU team working already. His eyes scanned the area, searching for his teammates, but he didn´t see anyone. He headed for the doorway and was about to enter the room open when he heard someone calling his name.
"Danny!" Duke called out and headed to Danny.
"Hey, Duke. Another weekend ruined, huh? Makes me wonder about retirement again." Danny smiled.
But Duke didn´t seem to be in the mood for some reason.
"So, what do we got here?"
Duke sucked in a deep breath before speaking up, a worried grimace on his face. "I don´t know how to tell you this," he said.
"Tell me what, Duke? Just spill it out."
"Okay. CSU identified the victim as Lynn Downey," Duke said with a frown.
"Wh—?"
He froze. That couldn´t be right, could it? She was with Steve. But that would mean—
"Where is Steve?" Danny blurted out, but didn´t wait for an answer.
He took out his phone in an instant, pressing a speed dial button with a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. A wave of heat washed over him when the phone rang inside the room. He glanced at Duke, who didn´t say anything. But he didn´t have to. By now it was clear something bad had happened.
Snapping back to his senses he pushed the door open and barged in. With a fear growing inside him, he made his way to the nightstand where the cell phone was ringing. When he saw his own name on the screen, his heart seized.
No.
Danny turned around his axis, taking in the room. It stank of alcohol. He saw the bottle on the table and the broken bottle on the floor, and, as he made his way farther inside, his shoes squelched through the sticky residue on the floor.
He turned to the bed on his right. There was a scattering of banknotes on it, but it was untouched. The other bed was covered in alcohol stains, and it was a mess.
Trying to remain calm, he went over to the bathroom. And there she was, laying on the floor. The familiar woman whose beauty had been marred by the obscene red welts around her throat.
He lifted his gaze from the body, his mind spinning.
Steve´s car was parked outside, but there was only Lynn´s body, which, even though it sounded horrible, was at least some kind of relief. He´d been through Steve´s death already, even though it had turned out not to be real after ten long months, and he never wanted to feel that kind of emptiness ever again.
His second thought was that someone had killed Lynn and taken Steve, considering his friend wasn´t around. But the way the room looked suggested something else completely, and he didn´t like it any more. What were they doing at a place like this anyway? And even more important question popped up on his mind — where the hell was Steve?
He turned around and saw Duke making his way toward him.
"Do we know who did this?" Danny asked.
"One of the officers arrested a suspect," Duke announced, but the grim expression still creased his forehead.
"Name, Duke. Give me the name."
"It´s Steve."
Danny´s eyes widened in disbelief. He shook his head. "You don´t actually think he would—"
"No. But it doesn´t matter what you and I think, Danny. You saw it for yourself. You know what it looks like."
Frozen in place, Danny thought about Duke´s words. He wasn´t in the habit of jumping to conclusions, but if it wasn´t Steve Duke was talking about, it would be difficult to look past the obvious explanation for what had happened in the room last night. There had been alcohol, too much alcohol, and an argument had become physical, and then, eventually deadly.
All his instincts screamed at him to drop everything and go find Steve, to tell him it´s gonna be all right. But he needed some answers first. "What did you find?" he asked.
"Not too much to say," Duke began. "There´s plenty of prints, but most of them belong to people who were staying here before. It´ll be a nightmare to track them all down."
"I don´t care. I want it done. All of them."
Duke nodded.
"Any witnesses? Did anybody see or hear anything?"
"The manager says the hotel is full, but so far we have nothing except the manager´s wife who had found Lynn´s body in the morning."
"Where are they?"
Duke gestured toward the door. "Outside," he said.
Danny headed to the car park in front of the room, searching for the manager´s wife. He noticed a small camera fixed to the underside of the veranda. He looked more carefully and saw that there were two of them, each pointing in opposite directions. He stood back and considered the arc that they would be able to cover. One of them was pointing almost directly at the door to the room.
The manager and his wife were watching at the edge of the crowd of ghouls who had gathered to observe the scene.
"I´m gonna go talk to them," Danny said. He was about to step forward when an unfamiliar voice stopped him.
"No you won´t," the voice said.
"Excuse me?" Danny turned to the source of the voice.
A tall man wearing a navy blue jacket was staring down at him.
"And you are?"
"Special agent George Hoffman, FBI," the man introduced himself, waving a badge in his hand. "I have to ask you to stay away and let me do my job."
Danny could feel the tiny bubbles of anger coming to the surface. "No. No, I don´t think so. Now, why don´t you go where you came from and let me do mine?"
"This is my case now, Detective. And whether you like it or not, you have to leave," Hoffman said with a cocky grin.
Danny already decided he didn´t like the guy and he wanted to wipe that smile out of the arrogant prick´s face. He opened up his mouth to speak when his phone rang.
"Williams," he answered it.
"Detective Williams, this is the Governor Mahoe again. I just received a phone call with orders to immediately take Five-0 off this case. I´m sorry I sent you there for nothing on Saturday."
"But…"
"There is no but, Detective. It´s an order. Do not interfere with the investigation."
A surge of rage rushed through Danny, but he knew he couldn´t win this argument. "Okay," he said. "I get it. Bye." He ended the call.
Hoffman´s victorious smile widened, which pissed Danny off even more.
We´re not done yet," Danny said to him with venom in his voice and headed to his car.
There was no power in this world that could stop him from finding out what had happened and helping Steve. FBI, the Governor… hell, he wouldn´t even care if the president himself would order him to drop it. Not a chance.
He put the Camaro in a gear and drove off. His friend needed to know he had his back. The sooner the better.
*to be continued*
Please let me know what you think so far.