We are a couple of days late, but life kept us busy. So, without further ado…

A Wrinkle in Time
by Sam and Cokie

… They waited another minute in silence for Bergman to finish whatever he was doing. Finally, he turned back to them. "Oh, I see you brought a friend, Captain."

"Uh, hi. I'm Steve McGarrett, nice to meet you," Steve said and again extended his hand.

It was again ignored, but at least the ME turned toward him. "You're Commander McGarrett, head of the governor's task force. Nice to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise, Dr. Bergman," Steve replied and wasn't quite sure what to think of this man.

"Steve, I called you because I would like for us to take over the investigation of the 'homeless-murders'," Chin told him.

"Why? Do you think they are not in capable hands?"

"No, it has nothing to do with that," Chin was quick to explain. "But, this one is personal. Max, would you please?" Chin asked and motioned for the ME to reveal the dead body on the exam table.

Dr. Bergman pulled the sheet away from the dead person's face.

"I've seen this guy," Steve exclaimed…

Chapter 12

"When I was with Danny, about a month ago, he was on the sidewalk… talking to himself," Steve remembered. "How do you know him?"

"We went to school together," Chin said with a sad undertone.

"What happened?"

Chin sighed and shook his head. "Jerry had a brilliant mind; and was a really funny guy."

"You were friends?" Steve wanted to know.

"Yeah, kind of. We were both band geeks. Stayed in touch after school. For a while at least… but then… you know how it gets. Everyone goes his own way, and…"

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Anyway. I saw Jerry a couple of years ago, and I was shocked. He was… kind of crazy… he had lost his job a few years before, and he… I guess his anti-social disorder really kicked in."

"He had problems adjusting to society?"

"Not just that, also to people. And it apparently had gotten worse over the years. That's what his mother told me. She provided a home for him; he lived in her basement, but one day he just decided it wasn't safe there anymore. And he moved out and lived on the street."

"When I saw him he seemed like he was scared that someone was after him."

"Yeah, Jerry thought 'they' were out to get him. "They" could mean people… or aliens from any conspiracy theory known to man. It's sad. He was not a "crazy" guy as crazy goes. He just never was really challenged, you know. I think with the right people on his side he might have had a chance to… I don't know, be happy in this world."

Steve could hear the hurt in his friend's voice. "Chin, you know this isn't your fault, right?" he quietly said. "Don't go that road, OK?" At Chin's nod of acceptance, he added, "Now we will solve Jerry's murder. At least we can do that much for him."

H50 – H50 – H50

"I need your help," the voice said over the phone.

"I thought you said my debt was paid," she argued. "I went to the hospital and got the information on Hesse you wanted."

"That was last month. I need your services again. And it is very important. Besides it will be easy."

She paused, but knew she had no choice. "What do you need?"

H50 – H50 – H50

Late Tuesday afternoon

Headquarters

"Hey, Max, welcome!"

Dr. Max Bergman cautiously continued into the task force's new offices, taking in everything as he walked. His eyes lit up when he saw the computer table in the center of the room.

"Captain Kelly," he said with a formal nod of his head. "This is… quite interesting."

"Yes, it is. And it is top of the line, too," Chin assured him. "What can we do for you?"

"I have information on the homeless murders you and Commander McGarrett may find useful," he replied.

"That's good. Just a second." Chin walked the few steps to Steve's office and pushed open the glass door. "Steve, Max is here. Says he has something we can use."

Steve met them in the bullpen and nodded toward Max, knowing that an attempt at a handshake would be futile. "Dr. Bergman."

"Commander McGarrett. I have preliminary results of the tox screen I ran on Mr. Ortega."

"Thanks, Max but you could have given us a call rather than make a trip."

"I do not trust telephones," the medical examiner explained. "Face to face is much safer."

"Ah… OK. So… what do you have?"

"As with the previous six murders of homeless people, Mr. Ortega was poisoned."

Chin sighed. "And let me guess. As with the others, we have nothing to go on, right?"

"Not necessarily. First, all six other deaths occurred in or near Tent City. Mr. Ortega was found downtown. Also, the first six murders were committed with the use of highly concentrated heroine, most likely placed in food or drink. While Mr. Ortega was also killed by ingesting tainted food, there is one difference. His last meal appeared to have been chocolate chip cookies to which high levels of arsenic had been added. It is known that chocolate can be soaked in arsenic to mask the odor. None of the others had any evidence of tainted food in their systems."

"So you don't think he was killed by the same person as the others?" Steve asked.

"I cannot say with 100 percent accuracy that that is the case," Max hedged.

"I understand that, but, in your expert opinion, what do you think?"

Max took a deep breath. "It is my opinion, that the death of Mr. Ortega is different enough to warrant an investigation. I do not think his death has anything to do with the deaths of the other six unfortunate victims."

"Thank you." Steve looked at Chin, both wondering where this left them.

"Max, thank you for coming," Chin told him. "We appreciate your help."

"Yes, well, not a problem. Perhaps you can repay me by showing me what this computer can do."

"I can do that," Chin replied with a smile.

"Max, thanks," Steve told him, motioning to Cath whose office was the closest. "Conference room," he said, pointing in that direction and then motioning for her to round up the others. He went inside and waited for them to congregate. While Chin was showing Max the computer, he filled them in on the doctor's findings.

"What are your thoughts?" Chin asked when he joined them a few minutes later.

"I know there have been several homeless guys killed," Danny said. "But what makes this one different? Yeah, Max says it's a different MO, but what makes this guy special?"

"That's what we need to find out," Steve replied. "First, why was he killed and why make his death look like the others?"

"That's going to be difficult to find out," John said. "Hawaii's homeless population is steadily growing; the problem is that the people aren't willing to talk to anyone. Organizations try to help care for them but most of their help is rebuffed. They are a very closely-knit group and don't like outsiders. They sure won't talk to any of us."

"Same as back in Chicago," Lou added. "They just don't trust anyone. And probably rightly so."

"Steve?" Cath said. "You look like you're planning something."

He glanced up. "Maybe. Let me see what I come up with. But it can wait until tomorrow."

H50 – H50 - H50

McGarrett Residence

Tuesday evening

"You're quiet tonight," Cath commented after dinner. They were seated near the water's edge enjoying the evening breeze; he with a beer and she with a glass of wine. "Are you in pain? I saw you limping earlier."

"Nah, I'm good. I just moved wrong. Sorry I've been so quiet." Steve said, looking at her "I was just thinking about the homeless guy who was murdered. I don't get it. I mean, where would he get cookies that had been poisoned? Were they meant for him or someone else? There's just something about this that doesn't make a whole lot of sense, you know."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I hate it was someone Chin knew from school. That's just so sad. I mean, he had a mom who loved him and he had a home if he chose to live there, but he made the decision to live on the streets. He must have been out of his mind with fear of something."

"Unfortunately many of the homeless don't have any options. Too many of them are veterans who have trouble with PTSD or drugs, alcohol, or a combination of it. They lose their jobs, families, homes. Where do they have to go? Not a lot of choices other than the streets or tent city."

"So, do you have a plan yet?" she asked.

"Hey, you two," John called from the back door. "Mind if I join you?"

"No, of course not," Catherine said, turning around to watch him head toward them.

"You're home early," Steve said with a grin.

"I wanted to tell you that I'll soon be out of your hair," his dad said, his happiness evident in his voice. "You'll have the house all to yourselves."

"John, I feel like I'm in your way, not the other way around," Catherine told him while getting up from her chair and sitting carefully on Steve's right knee.

"Never, Honey. But we put payment down for our condo tonight. Finally found the perfect one."

"Congratulations," Steve reached up and clinked his beer bottle to his dad's then pointed to Cath's vacant chair. "Sit with us. That's great news. Not that I'm trying to get rid of you," he hastily added.

"I know you're not," John said, glancing back at the house. "But it's time this house has some young blood in it. You two need to work at making it your own. Don't get me wrong, I love this place, but I'm ready for something new. And Kalani's really excited. Second floor apartment, wrap around balcony right on the ocean. It's pretty sweet."

"I can't wait to see it," Cath told him. "You sound very happy."

"We are. Hopefully all the paperwork will be finished in a week or so and we can get settled in. I-uh, may need to take a few hours off work," he added with a grin.

"Better OK that with your supervisor," Steve told him.

"Yeah, good luck. I heard he can be a real hard ass," Cath added.

"You heard that, huh?" Steve asked, grinning at her, moving his leg trying to get her off balance.

"That's the rumor going around," she replied, reaching for his arm to anchor herself.

"I think I can handle him," John confidently said. "I'll corner him tomorrow at work." He took a drink then added, "Speaking of, what's your take on Ortega's murder? Any ideas?"

"Maybe," Steve told him. "We need to talk to someone he was in contact with."

"Steve, they're not going to talk to you. That's a given."

"I know that," Steve agreed with a nod of his head. "But they might talk to one of their own."

"I can see that you have a plan in motion." Cath said.

"It's just an idea at this point. I need more input first. We can discuss it tomorrow at work," he told her.

H50 – H50 - H50

Headquarters

"You're sure about this?" Chin asked Steve after he pitched the game plan to his team.

"I am," Steve confidently replied.

"You think you're gonna fool a group of homeless people into thinking you are one of them?" Danny asked with a laugh. "Dream on."

Steve sat back and looked at them. "OK, listen up. I've given it a lot of thought and with your back-up I am fairly confident I will have no problem getting in. Finding someone who can give me some Intel is what I'm worried about, but blending in won't be a problem. I've done this before."

"You've infiltrated a group of homeless people?" Danny asked.

"No, but I have infiltrated other groups," Steve replied, his tone letting them know to ask no questions.

"I just have one worry," Cath said. "I know you won't have any problem talking with these people. My concern is what if one of them recognizes you?"

"I thought of that, too," John added. "We can't rule out that some of your school friends or anyone else that knows you won't be in that camp."

"Yeah, I know," Steve agreed. "But I haven't been on the islands for many years, and I'll just have to make sure I'm unrecognizable. As long as I know one of you has my back, I'll be good. I won't be going in without backup."

"Of course you won't," Grover assured him. "We may be taking shifts listening in, but if anything happens, we've all got your back."

"All I ask if that you pull a few hours during the night. If you want to tag team it and take a couple hours each, I'm good with that. I'll go in around eleven."

"Cath and I will be your ears until around two if you guys want to divvy up after that," John told them.

"Don't worry, we'll have you covered," Chin assured him. "You just have to let us know when you want a pick up."

"Will do. Dad, could you also call Duke and let him know our plan? Maybe he can circumvent any calls in the morning so we can get some sleep."

"Of course. I'm sure the state can get by without us for one day."

"If I get nothing tonight, I plan to try again tomorrow," Steve told them. "But I hope at least someone out there will talk to me."

H50 – H50 - H50

"Steve, be careful," Catherine said before he stepped out of the truck several blocks away from the alley closest to where Jerry Ortega spent most of his time.

"Hey, I will, don't worry," he assured her. "I would give you a kiss, but I know I don't smell too good."

"That's why the truck windows are rolled down, Son. You really are pretty ripe. Do I want to know how you manufactured that?"

Steve glanced down at his old jeans which were caked with ground in dirt and sported a few frayed holes. His shirt was a Navy tee that he had gotten before he had even gone to Annapolis. It was stretched almost beyond recognition, had a splotch of green paint and a rip in one sleeve.

"I poured milk on the pants and left them in the garage to ferment."

"That's the sour smell," Cath said, wrinkling her nose. "I wasn't going to ask."

"At least you aren't living in it," Steve told them with a grin. "Wish me luck."

He opened the truck door and slid out, turning to say goodbye just as Cath clicked a photo. "The others really wouldn't recognize you, I don't think," she told him. "Be safe."

"Always. See you both in the morning."

H50 – H50 – H50

They watched the new guy who stayed in the shadows of the underpass before heading across the street and into the alleyway. He turned and checked the sidewalk in both directions before trying to blend into the darkness. After limping a few more steps down the alley, he found a spot against the fence and eased himself down, rubbing his hand down his left leg after gingerly stretching it in front of him.

The man set his back pack on his lap and took off the old ball cap. He ran dirty fingers through his hair before plopping the cap back onto his head, leaning back against the fence and resting.

But they knew he was watching them through half closed eyes. Just like they were doing to him. It paid to be careful when you lived on the streets. They didn't need any trouble.

Traffic on the nearby streets began to die down after dark. They were a couple blocks off the main drag and once the businesses and restaurants closed, there wasn't much going on. Soft voices began to be heard in the night and somewhere down the alley, a harmonica was being played. Darkness settled around them.

H50 – H50 – H50

He was left alone until sometime after midnight. Even without his watch, he had always been good at guessing the time. Which had come in handy in his former career.

Steve, things are awfully quiet. Everything OK?

He heard Cath's soft voice in his ear and breathed out a soft "yep", hoping they heard him. "Just waiting."

He had remained still, keeping watch on several small groups of men, and a few women, talking quietly among themselves. They had been stealing covert glances in his direction all night, but had made no direct contact. Finally, one of them stood and met his eyes before walking toward him down the alley.

"Hey," the stranger said with a nod of his head and a backward glance at the person he had just walked away from.

"Aloha."

"Sounds cliché but are you new around here?" he asked.

Steve glanced around. "You could say that."

The lean man nodded and politely asked, "Mind if I sit a bit?"

"No, of course not. The name's Mike. Have a seat."

"I'm Jigsaw," the lanky Hawaiian native replied. "You military?"

'Mike' glanced away. "Not anymore."

"Saw you limping. And your arm… is all this recent?"

"Not so much. Well, the arm is. Got in a fight in Tent City and decided it was time for a change of scenery. The leg's compliments of the government. Was discharged from Tripler a few months back and don't have any place else to go. My old lady's on Maui and when I called to tell her I was comin' home, she told me not to bother. So, guess I'm stuck here."

"Tell me about it," Jigsaw said. "Get this, after I got busted up, I was in the hospital and my gal, my fiancée texted me, telling me the wedding was off." He raised the sleeve of his shirt, showing his right arm that had several criss-crossed scars on it. "Said she was afraid of how I looked."

"Wow, that's low," 'Mike' said. "Sorry, man."

"Probably wouldn't've worked anyway."

Mike reached for his backpack. "Hey, I've got some fruit," he said, pulling out some tangerines and mangos. "Want some?" he offered, peeling himself a tangerine.

"Don't mind if I do," Jigsaw replied. "Where'd you get these?"

"Back of one of the little markets. Guess they were getting too ripe to sell or somethin'. Not bad though."

"Thanks," Jigsaw replied, reaching for a mango. He pointed to Mike's hat. "So, you Navy?"

"Yeah," he replied, rubbing his aching leg. It didn't take a lot of acting to look like being in pain. "Used to be. You?"

"Army. Chopper mechanic. That is until the engine I was working on blew up on me. Almost lost my arm and right leg."

"Damn. I can relate. Had to bail out of a plane and my chute failed. Landed in a dry river bed and I knew right away my leg was busted to pieces. Thought for sure that if I didn't lose it, it would be useless." He again rubbed the fingers of his casted hand down his leg. "At least it gets me where I need to go."

"They pieced me back together," Jigsaw explained, "but not good enough for me to do my job. Too much nerve damage, I guess. Them's the breaks."

"Yeah. Sucks though."

"Always. Now if the nightmares let me get to sleep, the PTSD kicks in and I wake up in a ball of sweat. Helluva life."

"Tell me about it. Makes a person not even want to fall asleep," Mike agreed with him. He was glad that Jigsaw was obviously one of the chatty kind.

"If you do fall asleep, keep one eye open," Jigsaw replied. "Crazy things happenin' around here."

"How so?" Mike asked and stretched out his leg, warding off another muscle cramp. They had bugged him all day.

"Just crazy shit, you know. Someone died a few days back. Never heard what happened to him, but he was a decent guy. Really paranoid, but he had his good moments, too. A damn shame. He had a home and everything, but was so afraid, he took to livin' on the streets. Makes no sense to me."

"Yeah, some people don't feel safe anywhere," Mike agreed. "Glad you said somethin' though, 'cause I heard at least six people have died in Tent City. Rumor has it they were poisoned."

"No shit? Wonder if that's what happened to Jerry?" He turned to his friend down the alley and called, "Hey, Diego, get over here."

'Mike' watched as a short, stocky man stood and stared him down before ambling their direction.

"What?" he asked, shifting his eyes to Jigsaw and back to Mike, watchful of any quick moves.

"Diego, this is Mike. Mike, Diego. Mike just left Tent City. Said six people there have died and were probably poisoned. And now there's Jerry."

Diego looked down the alley out to the street. "Ain't no reason to poison Jerry. He was just a mixed up coot afraid of his own shadow. Talkin' outta his head most of the time."

"What'd he talk about?" Mike asked them.

"What's it to ya?" Diego shot back.

Mike shrugged and held up his hands. "Hey, man, just askin' for some conversation. It gets kind of…" his voice trailed off and he shook his head. "Never mind."

Diego shook his head and ambled back down the alley where he came from.

"I hear you," Jigsaw quietly said. "It's a lonely life out here." He stood and turned to leave as well. "Gonna try to get some shuteye."

"Yeah, good luck."

H50 – H50 – H50

So, will Steve have a quiet, or an exciting night? ;-)