Chapter Six
Ruthie and Peter finally did change suites the next day; and ironically the next day and for several days after that, absolutely nothing happened. No more murders happened in their hotel or any other hotel in Honolulu. Thinking they might have been jinxing the other newlyweds in the building, the couple decided to abstain from sex and instead take in some more sights in and around the island; including Chinatown, the Bishop Estate and the Polynesian Cultural Center. They figured they needed the mental exercise, and for what it was worth, they had tanned faster in their first three days in Oahu than they normally did an entire summer in California.
Finally, well into the second week of their honeymoon, their insatiable appetite for each other reached the boiling point. They decided to spend an entire day in their suite, totally undressed and making love with each other over and over; breaking only for the room service deliveries for breakfast, lunch and supper.
At around eleven that night, totally exhausted and spent, the couple finally fell asleep in each others' arms. Just five minutes later, a persistent knocking was heard at the door. But Ruthie and Peter didn't wake up.
The knocking became louder and more urgent. Still the two, completely bushed from their shared passion, didn't respond.
Finally, Ruthie stirred, and heard the beat which had now become a pounding.
"Oh all right, all right!" Ruthie shouted, as she put on her housecoat. Oddly for her, she checked her ring finger to make sure her engagement ring and wedding band were still there, the first time she had done so since the wedding reception.
She set aside the secondary latch, turned the deadbolt, and opened the door. Outside were several members of the Honolulu City and County Police, and a Military Police official.
"Good evening, Ms Camden," said the MP. "We regret the disturbance at this late hour, but we need you to accompany us to Tripler Army Medical Center."
"Why?" asked Ruthie.
By this time, Peter had awoken. He too had gotten out of bed and put on his housecoat.
"There was a stabbing at the military hotel," said the MP. "Two of your friends, Lance Corporal Shelby Connor, and Lieutenant Rod Parker, were mugged after returning from an evening of shopping at a high-end department store."
"Oh God!" screamed Ruthie. "Not them, too?"
"They're okay, ma'am," said one of the 5-0 calmly. "But they took some very bad stab wounds from a stiletto, and they're really shaken up. The SVU is over at Tripler right now, as is JAG. We need you to come down there, and give a statement about everything that you know right now. Then, the Parkers would like you to see them. They're saying they won't say anything until you see them."
"Why us?" asked Peter. "Why not their families?"
"It's two in the morning on the West Coast, Mr. Petrovsky," pointed out the cop. "Detective Michaels has gotten in touch with the next of kin already, and they'll be on their way as soon as day breaks in Los Angeles."
"Give us two minutes," said Peter, and quickly shut the door behind him.
He and his wife quickly stripped off their housecoats. Peter grabbed his boxers and put them on, followed by khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. Ruthie put on her panties and a cotton skirt. She forwent her bra and put on only a print t-shirt over her bosom. Peter retrieved his wallet and one of the electronic room keys. Ruthie got her purse and the other key. They ran out the door, which locked itself as it was designed to do. It had taken them less than the two minutes Peter had promised. In fact, it was a mere 52 seconds.
With the military and civilian cops leading the way, Ruthie took her husband's hand as the elevator door opened for the rapid trip downstairs to the lobby, where a military transport was waiting to escort them. As she and Peter hopped into the HUMVEE and the jalopy pulled away for the drive to the west side of town, Ruthie found her mind a total whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. As she would later learn, Peter was running a similar gamut of feelings.
"First Jake and Suzanne, then Laurie and Paul, and now Shelby and Rod," thought Ruthie. "This is absolutely nuts! Why them? And the modus operandi for each of the killings or attempts was different. The first couple was shot, the second was hacked to death with a machete, and now someone tried to kill Shelby and Rod with a knife. Does someone have a vendetta against Dad and Lucy and the people they've tried to help? Why not go after them instead? It'd make a lot more sense.
"Come to think of it ... oh, no, not now ..." Ruthie thought. Her body at that moment decided to go through the monthly cycle she had come to dread so much but knew was an integral part of womanhood. "I'm not pregnant after all. Peter's going to be so disappointed! But maybe it's a good thing. We're going to college in only a few weeks, and we just don't have time to raise a kid, as much as I'd like to be a mom again. At least I know the son I was going to have but died inside of me before he had a chance is in Heaven now. And he'll be the guardian angel for my son and daughter, when that time comes."
Peter was looking at his wife. One look on her face and he knew, too, that he wasn't going to be a father after all either.
"Maybe Ruthie had a very aggressive cycle this month, so she tricked herself into thinking she and Peter had conceived another baby," he told himself. "Well, I'm disappointed too, but at least that's one less thing to worry about going into school this fall. But on the way home, I'm going to make sure that she's still on the Pill; or if not, get her back on it right away.
"But I know what Ruthie's thinking too, and it doesn't make sense either. Why them? Why not us? And aren't all the hotels in Waikiki supposed to have electronic locks? How could anyone break into the rooms without them? Nothing was stolen from either of the first two couples, who died in their suites. And sure, they were trying to mug Shelby and Rod; but wouldn't it have been suicide to attack them? They have special ops training, as well as martial arts.
"This has to be an inside job," Peter went on inside his head. "They do make master keys for the cleaning staff and the managers, but they're reprogrammed every day as guests leave and check in. The locks too, are reprogrammed so that someone who's supposed to have checked out doesn't return to the same suite without paying.
"Why hasn't Detective Michaels called? Why didn't he call as soon as the first murder happened? Why hasn't any of Ruthie's family called? Do they want to leave us in the abyss? Will we be next?"
Peter and Ruthie's ride was now approaching Tripler, the largest hospital in the United States. They looked at each other. Sparks were flying between their eyes, but they didn't do anything, not even hug, as that seemed totally inappropriate at this moment in time. But the two knew each other had the same question for the other spouse at that moment: "Are we too young for marriage? Did we make a mistake in tying the knot now rather than waiting until after college?"
And more ominously, they wondered why today, during all that time they were one human being, did they think of other people? For Ruthie, it was fantasies of Brad Pitt and Justin Timberlake. For Peter, it was dreams of Kate Winslet and Cindy Crawford.
The SUV pulled up to the security checkpoint, then to the front door of the huge complex. Rod and Shelby were in bandages at the triage unit. To say they were in shock was an understatement; they had in the last hour or so, in fact, past in and out of catatonia.
The sight of Peter and Ruthie, however, finally made them snap out of it. They wanted to hug their friends but were warned by the doctor in charge to stay put while their wounds were redressed yet again.
"Man, it's so good to see you guys!" Shelby finally said. Her normally reassured tone was absent; instead, it was the nervous young girl that Ruthie first met years before, a girl who only wanted dinner with the Camdens because she didn't have enough to eat at home.
"What happened?" asked Peter.
"Damned if we know," said Rod, who was finally handed a pair of crutches by one of the nurse practitioners. He stood up, and it was obvious that he was limping severely. "We were on our way back to the hotel – in fact, we were just walking up the driveway to the security checkpoint – when a guy in a ski mask came up from behind us and started stabbing us."
"Didn't the MP on point duty there do anything?" asked Ruthie. "He must have seen something – or the whole thing happening."
"He was just directing traffic, and there were a lot of tour buses dropping off other military families who were out on evening tours to Chinatown and Pearl," said Shelby. "His view would have been obscured. We don't know what happened – it was so fast. The guy hits Rod with a crowbar and gave him some stab wounds in the leg as he fell to the ground. Then, while my husband was out, I got dragged behind a palm tree. I was fighting like crazy, but I think the mugger injected me with some kind of drug or something because I passed out. The doctors tell me that in the ten minutes I was unconscious, I was raped."
Shelby Connor was saying this so matter-of-factly that she could have been reciting a novel. She was making it sound like almost as if it was no big deal. But Rod, Ruthie and Peter knew she was suffering horribly.
"Are you okay? Who found you?" asked Peter.
"Another couple, who live here full time, taking a long walk along the main tourist drag back to their home in Waikiki. They saw my leg from behind the tree and called 911 on their cell phone. By that time, I came to and so did Rod, thank God."
Ruthie thought she was going to get sick. A rape was bad enough under any circumstances. But for a bride to get attacked by someone on her honeymoon – whether it was her husband or not – was unfathomable.
"So now what?" she finally asked.
"We're going to be here all night, while the cops ask us all questions," said Rod. "Come morning, when Shelby and I check out, we'll all be under constant surveillance. Both our rooms."
"Who do you think is behind this?" asked Peter.
"Damned if I know," said Shelby. "But we're just like you guys: we want to find out, and soon – before anyone else gets hurt. You included."
Shelby couldn't take it anymore. She sank back into a chair and started sobbing uncontrollably, as a doctor empathetically handed her a glass of water and the morning-after pill.
Ruthie and Peter followed the cops to a nearby room to begin their end of the interrogation. Ruthie started to cry too, as if it had happened to her. Her husband handed her his handkerchief. He couldn't help wiping a tear from his eye, too.
Ruthie and Peter finally did change suites the next day; and ironically the next day and for several days after that, absolutely nothing happened. No more murders happened in their hotel or any other hotel in Honolulu. Thinking they might have been jinxing the other newlyweds in the building, the couple decided to abstain from sex and instead take in some more sights in and around the island; including Chinatown, the Bishop Estate and the Polynesian Cultural Center. They figured they needed the mental exercise, and for what it was worth, they had tanned faster in their first three days in Oahu than they normally did an entire summer in California.
Finally, well into the second week of their honeymoon, their insatiable appetite for each other reached the boiling point. They decided to spend an entire day in their suite, totally undressed and making love with each other over and over; breaking only for the room service deliveries for breakfast, lunch and supper.
At around eleven that night, totally exhausted and spent, the couple finally fell asleep in each others' arms. Just five minutes later, a persistent knocking was heard at the door. But Ruthie and Peter didn't wake up.
The knocking became louder and more urgent. Still the two, completely bushed from their shared passion, didn't respond.
Finally, Ruthie stirred, and heard the beat which had now become a pounding.
"Oh all right, all right!" Ruthie shouted, as she put on her housecoat. Oddly for her, she checked her ring finger to make sure her engagement ring and wedding band were still there, the first time she had done so since the wedding reception.
She set aside the secondary latch, turned the deadbolt, and opened the door. Outside were several members of the Honolulu City and County Police, and a Military Police official.
"Good evening, Ms Camden," said the MP. "We regret the disturbance at this late hour, but we need you to accompany us to Tripler Army Medical Center."
"Why?" asked Ruthie.
By this time, Peter had awoken. He too had gotten out of bed and put on his housecoat.
"There was a stabbing at the military hotel," said the MP. "Two of your friends, Lance Corporal Shelby Connor, and Lieutenant Rod Parker, were mugged after returning from an evening of shopping at a high-end department store."
"Oh God!" screamed Ruthie. "Not them, too?"
"They're okay, ma'am," said one of the 5-0 calmly. "But they took some very bad stab wounds from a stiletto, and they're really shaken up. The SVU is over at Tripler right now, as is JAG. We need you to come down there, and give a statement about everything that you know right now. Then, the Parkers would like you to see them. They're saying they won't say anything until you see them."
"Why us?" asked Peter. "Why not their families?"
"It's two in the morning on the West Coast, Mr. Petrovsky," pointed out the cop. "Detective Michaels has gotten in touch with the next of kin already, and they'll be on their way as soon as day breaks in Los Angeles."
"Give us two minutes," said Peter, and quickly shut the door behind him.
He and his wife quickly stripped off their housecoats. Peter grabbed his boxers and put them on, followed by khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. Ruthie put on her panties and a cotton skirt. She forwent her bra and put on only a print t-shirt over her bosom. Peter retrieved his wallet and one of the electronic room keys. Ruthie got her purse and the other key. They ran out the door, which locked itself as it was designed to do. It had taken them less than the two minutes Peter had promised. In fact, it was a mere 52 seconds.
With the military and civilian cops leading the way, Ruthie took her husband's hand as the elevator door opened for the rapid trip downstairs to the lobby, where a military transport was waiting to escort them. As she and Peter hopped into the HUMVEE and the jalopy pulled away for the drive to the west side of town, Ruthie found her mind a total whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. As she would later learn, Peter was running a similar gamut of feelings.
"First Jake and Suzanne, then Laurie and Paul, and now Shelby and Rod," thought Ruthie. "This is absolutely nuts! Why them? And the modus operandi for each of the killings or attempts was different. The first couple was shot, the second was hacked to death with a machete, and now someone tried to kill Shelby and Rod with a knife. Does someone have a vendetta against Dad and Lucy and the people they've tried to help? Why not go after them instead? It'd make a lot more sense.
"Come to think of it ... oh, no, not now ..." Ruthie thought. Her body at that moment decided to go through the monthly cycle she had come to dread so much but knew was an integral part of womanhood. "I'm not pregnant after all. Peter's going to be so disappointed! But maybe it's a good thing. We're going to college in only a few weeks, and we just don't have time to raise a kid, as much as I'd like to be a mom again. At least I know the son I was going to have but died inside of me before he had a chance is in Heaven now. And he'll be the guardian angel for my son and daughter, when that time comes."
Peter was looking at his wife. One look on her face and he knew, too, that he wasn't going to be a father after all either.
"Maybe Ruthie had a very aggressive cycle this month, so she tricked herself into thinking she and Peter had conceived another baby," he told himself. "Well, I'm disappointed too, but at least that's one less thing to worry about going into school this fall. But on the way home, I'm going to make sure that she's still on the Pill; or if not, get her back on it right away.
"But I know what Ruthie's thinking too, and it doesn't make sense either. Why them? Why not us? And aren't all the hotels in Waikiki supposed to have electronic locks? How could anyone break into the rooms without them? Nothing was stolen from either of the first two couples, who died in their suites. And sure, they were trying to mug Shelby and Rod; but wouldn't it have been suicide to attack them? They have special ops training, as well as martial arts.
"This has to be an inside job," Peter went on inside his head. "They do make master keys for the cleaning staff and the managers, but they're reprogrammed every day as guests leave and check in. The locks too, are reprogrammed so that someone who's supposed to have checked out doesn't return to the same suite without paying.
"Why hasn't Detective Michaels called? Why didn't he call as soon as the first murder happened? Why hasn't any of Ruthie's family called? Do they want to leave us in the abyss? Will we be next?"
Peter and Ruthie's ride was now approaching Tripler, the largest hospital in the United States. They looked at each other. Sparks were flying between their eyes, but they didn't do anything, not even hug, as that seemed totally inappropriate at this moment in time. But the two knew each other had the same question for the other spouse at that moment: "Are we too young for marriage? Did we make a mistake in tying the knot now rather than waiting until after college?"
And more ominously, they wondered why today, during all that time they were one human being, did they think of other people? For Ruthie, it was fantasies of Brad Pitt and Justin Timberlake. For Peter, it was dreams of Kate Winslet and Cindy Crawford.
The SUV pulled up to the security checkpoint, then to the front door of the huge complex. Rod and Shelby were in bandages at the triage unit. To say they were in shock was an understatement; they had in the last hour or so, in fact, past in and out of catatonia.
The sight of Peter and Ruthie, however, finally made them snap out of it. They wanted to hug their friends but were warned by the doctor in charge to stay put while their wounds were redressed yet again.
"Man, it's so good to see you guys!" Shelby finally said. Her normally reassured tone was absent; instead, it was the nervous young girl that Ruthie first met years before, a girl who only wanted dinner with the Camdens because she didn't have enough to eat at home.
"What happened?" asked Peter.
"Damned if we know," said Rod, who was finally handed a pair of crutches by one of the nurse practitioners. He stood up, and it was obvious that he was limping severely. "We were on our way back to the hotel – in fact, we were just walking up the driveway to the security checkpoint – when a guy in a ski mask came up from behind us and started stabbing us."
"Didn't the MP on point duty there do anything?" asked Ruthie. "He must have seen something – or the whole thing happening."
"He was just directing traffic, and there were a lot of tour buses dropping off other military families who were out on evening tours to Chinatown and Pearl," said Shelby. "His view would have been obscured. We don't know what happened – it was so fast. The guy hits Rod with a crowbar and gave him some stab wounds in the leg as he fell to the ground. Then, while my husband was out, I got dragged behind a palm tree. I was fighting like crazy, but I think the mugger injected me with some kind of drug or something because I passed out. The doctors tell me that in the ten minutes I was unconscious, I was raped."
Shelby Connor was saying this so matter-of-factly that she could have been reciting a novel. She was making it sound like almost as if it was no big deal. But Rod, Ruthie and Peter knew she was suffering horribly.
"Are you okay? Who found you?" asked Peter.
"Another couple, who live here full time, taking a long walk along the main tourist drag back to their home in Waikiki. They saw my leg from behind the tree and called 911 on their cell phone. By that time, I came to and so did Rod, thank God."
Ruthie thought she was going to get sick. A rape was bad enough under any circumstances. But for a bride to get attacked by someone on her honeymoon – whether it was her husband or not – was unfathomable.
"So now what?" she finally asked.
"We're going to be here all night, while the cops ask us all questions," said Rod. "Come morning, when Shelby and I check out, we'll all be under constant surveillance. Both our rooms."
"Who do you think is behind this?" asked Peter.
"Damned if I know," said Shelby. "But we're just like you guys: we want to find out, and soon – before anyone else gets hurt. You included."
Shelby couldn't take it anymore. She sank back into a chair and started sobbing uncontrollably, as a doctor empathetically handed her a glass of water and the morning-after pill.
Ruthie and Peter followed the cops to a nearby room to begin their end of the interrogation. Ruthie started to cry too, as if it had happened to her. Her husband handed her his handkerchief. He couldn't help wiping a tear from his eye, too.