Hi Everyone! Hope you are in good health!

Special thanks to Sweepeaspatch for being my beta!

And thanks to the reviewers who make my day:

Sweepeaspatch: Hahaha thanks. I love writing Richard's thoughts. Poor him. But it's nice to be able to explain why he does things, as opposed to in a tv show where we don't know his thoughts immediately... Hahaha and what to do with his hands.

FarFromHome: Hahahahaha! Yes there should be manuals! Oooo, how I would love that! That seems so easy doesn't it?

IsabelMC: Good one yes that you saw Kris tried to drive them all "crazy". Maybe this chapter will give more information about that. The coming two chapters will tell more about that... Hahhaah the ogling haha

Alice714: The lesbian thing... That will come back later in the chapters too. I'm glad you still like it. One years seems very long and was never my intention haha...

Guest S: Thanks! More and more will become clear about Kris...

Chapter 36

Police Station, late in the evening

Richard stared at the white board in front of him. He had wanted time alone, in this roller coaster that had been going on and on after Kris had fled from them. Now he had time alone and he didn't feel happy about it. There was a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't like it when Camille and he were fighting. She was angry with him. For whatever reason. Wasn't there always a reason?

He sighed as he looked at the photo of Kris Milano. He'd put it up in the middle of the board. Above it a note with 'diamonds' on it. The Shaws and Mister Blake, the man who owned the mansion and had had the diamonds in his vault.

"Where are you Detective Milano?" He asked her. He didn't want to call her Kris anymore. That didn't feel right, after everything she'd done. He'd rather keep her at a distance. He needed to stay objective. "Motive is easy. Money. Although no one seems to understand that, given your character seems to be kind and good." He put up a note with 'extreme character change.'

He stared at Kris's photograph and noticed the friendly warm smile, the big dark eyes and the high cheekbones. He realised that he hated her. "You hurt Camille." He told Photo-Kris in a low tone. That wasn't something that went well with him. No one was to hurt Camille. "That's unacceptable."

Camille

Camille walked up the stairs to her small apartment when she halted in shock. "Nick?" She asked surprised when she saw him sitting against her door.

"Camille." Nick said in a slurred voice as he straightened himself clumsily. Still drunk obviously.

He didn't look angry anymore. Just beaten. And sad.

"I'm sorry." Nick blurted out immediately.

Camille scanned him and saw the blood on his knuckles. "What did you do?" She asked worried as she took her keys.

Nick looked down at his hands and shrugged. "Nothing. Just hit the wall a few times."

"The wall? A stone wall?" He might be lucky that he didn't break anything then...Camille sighed concerned as she opened her door. "Come." She motioned for him to come in. "What are you doing here?" He could have gone to his hotel room just around the corner easily. She put her keys in the bowl next to the door and threw her jacket over a chair.

Police Station

Richard turned around to take another photo from his desk. Fidel and Dwayne had left the photos earlier in his 'In' tray. With the file that contained information about all the interviewed guests at the the party. "Detective McGarrett." He put a photo of Nick up next to Milano. "Partner. Comes all the way after her. Is there more behind that?" He should ask Nick that tomorrow. Who knew where the man was now? He'd been so angry when he had left. And so filled with grief.

"A lot of people that love you." He told Milano on the board. "And you throw it away so easily. Did you even know what you had?" Richard shook his head disappointed. "Don't you have any honor in you, detective?" He found that talking out loud helped him. Especially with a puzzle like this. It seemed that this case was difficult to him, because there were so much emotions plastered to it. Camille and Nick weren't objective.

Richard looked at the picture again as he took his favorite marker and pointed it at Kris. At least Camille wasn't here to grab it from him and throw it away. See? Not having Camille around did have advantages. "You stole the diamonds. Alone? Or did you have help?" He put a question mark under Kris's photograph. "We should make a time line, find out who you met, what you did since you arrived here. That'll be a job for Dwayne and Fidel."

"You wanted to get rid of us, so you could steal the diamonds on your own terms. Sleeping potion. Very clever. But Nick came to your room unexpected. So the first thing you could think about to get him out of the way was seduce him, so you could tie him up. But then Catherine interrupted. So you made up a story to make sure that she wouldn't find Nick. But why leave the door open? Where you interrupted? Or in a hurry? But when you came here you weren't in a hurry. It's almost as if you wanted someone to find Nick. And again, the keys to his cuffs were put down neatly on the table for others to find. Strange." Richard frowned and started to pace in front of the white board.

Camille's home

"I was just wondering..." Nick swallowed. "I heard you say that you hadn't cleaned your room yet."

"Non." Camille mumbled. She just couldn't face Kris's stuff. Everything was like she left it. They still had to get through all the stuff anyway... "Richard still has to examine everything."

"All of her stuff is still here?" Nick asked hopefully. "I... I would like... If I could... You know... Have some of her things."

"It's the middle of the night." Camille commented. "And you know we shouldn't touch anything before Richard's been through it."

"Yes. I know. I'm sorry," he mumbled, beaten. He didn't care what time it was. He just wanted something of Kris, to have close to him.

"Do you want a drink?"

"No, thanks. I just..." Nick stood up and walked towards her bedroom. "Could I just- See-?" He mumbled as he pointed at the bed.

"Have a look around," Camille told him as she gestured towards her bedroom. She wondered what he thought he would find. She made a drink for herself and walked towards the bedroom too. She studied Nick as she leaned in the doorway. She got a sad look in her eyes when she saw that Nick was sitting on the bed. On Kris's side. He was smelling her pillow.

"This is hers, isn't it?" He asked as he looked up at Camille.

Police Station

"Second. Take Camille's gun, threaten us but you emptied the gun before you used it on us. So you knew it was empty. We didn't. Why take that trouble? You knew someone would find the bullets. Why? Is there something you want to tell me, Milano? Did you want to tell me that you didn't want to shoot us? That you didn't want to hurt us?" Richard put his marker against his lip as he thought deep. "I'll take that in consideration for now."

"Third. You undressed in front of me to change into a dress you wouldn't be wearing later on in the party. And you told me you were going in as Mrs. Shaw. Was that a mistake?" Richard looked at Kris's photo again. As if she was going to answer. He could hear her mocking laugh in the back of his mind, as if she was right there. The evening that Camille had fallen to the ground unconscious and he was practically alone with Kris.

"You knew that Mrs. Shaw is dark skinned and that everyone was aware of that. Why would you tell me these things? Why would you try to tell me anything? Why go through this trouble and not just leave us. You could have left without all the drama round it. What is the purpose of that, Milano?" He looked in the dark eyes on the white board. "You're smart. You're good at undercover work. You're a perfectionist. You've planned everything. I can't believe that you made such easy mistakes. Why misinform me if I couldn't do anything with the information anyway? Without Catherine we wouldn't have been able to come. And Catherine only could come because YOU left the door open for her to find Nick that easily." He shook his head at the photograph and stared at the question mark he had drawn on the board.

Richard turned his back towards the board. "Fourth; the keys to our cuffs. You left them on the table too. You made it easy for us. You want us out of the way, but you make it easy for us to get to you? Are you a schizophrenic? Do you have more personalities? The witness who saw how careful you were with Camille. How you even kissed her forehead. I could believe that you regretted hurting us except you found so much joy in humiliating all of us. Except Catherine. So black and white, Milano. Why? Is there a hidden meaning in all this? A puzzle? There must be. Or you're simply just insane. Can one become insane that quickly? When it's about money?"

Camille's home

Camille nodded. "Oui. She slept on that side."

Nick pressed the pillow against his face. "I can still smell her. She has this orange citrus shampoo. Sometimes it's pomegranate. She also loves lime and cinnamon." He stared at the pillow. "A while ago, she bought this shower gel with banana and chocolat in it. Who even thinks of something like that?"

Police Station

Richard began to pace again. He would solve this puzzle. He would. He needed to, for Camille.

"The bandage in your side proves you were in trouble before. I think. It might mean something. Or not? Did you hurt yourself while you were surfing? But you hid the wound from Camille. Why hide your wounds, Milano? Why keep them a secret?" He put a note with 'wound' on it next to her photo. "What does the wound tell us about you, Milano?" They should visit all the doctors on the Island. There wouldn't be many. "What did you think Camille would do when she saw that wound? Knowing her, she would find out what had happened. You didn't want that. Why not lie about it easily? Was the wound too big? Couldn't you put it down to just a simple fall? What is it, Milano? Did someone attack you? Is it a knife wound? A bullet wound? It must be something that would have given Camille a clue as to what you were up too."

"Why did you point the gun at Nick? As if you wanted to kill him? You didn't pull the trigger because Camille attacked you, slamming the gun from your hand. But if you knew the gun was empty you knew you would betray yourself by pulling the trigger. It's almost as if you were playing a role. A role you were fighting with. Like you knew someone was watching."

Richard veered up. Could it be? Could that explain Kris's weird behavior? "Does someone have something on you, Kris? Is that why you showed me your wound? Did you need help?" He swallowed. Could it be that Kris was in danger? Or was this just wishful thinking?

Why put up a show, Kris? Why? And for who? Richard thought back about the moment in the hallway of the big Mansion. There had been no one else around had there? Just Camille, Nick and him. Kris pointing the gun at Nick, threatening them. And why wouldn't she have killed Nick before? She had the chance on the bed. "What did you do, Kris?"

He remembered Nick telling them that he had the idea that Kris held back in the fights she had had. With Camille. But that could easily have been because she didn't want to hurt Camille. She hadn't been fighting, just defending. That is what Nick had seen. And experienced. Although the state of Nick's face, with the bruises and his hurt leg suggested otherwise...

He needed to share his insights with the rest tomorrow morning. He needed to search Camille's room before she went to sleep tonight. He hoped that she wasn't still angry. But he needed to search her room before she would touch everything again. He looked at his watch. It was rather late already.

Camille's room

There was a knock on the door, again.

"Richard?" Camille asked surprised. It was almost midnight. And she was still angry.

"Err- Ehh- Yes," He looked at his watch. "I really want to take a look at your room. Before you sleep in it." He was on a roll and needed answers. He didn't want to stop now.

"Can't we do this in the morning?" Camille asked without letting him in.

Richard frowned. He was surprised at her sudden resistance. She was the one pushing on and on. And now she wanted to rest? She wouldn't even let him in immediately? Something was off. "No, you wanted to find Kris as fast as possible, didn't you?"

"Oui, but-" She looked over her shoulder, into her room. "I think we could all use some rest. We might see more with a fresh mind." She didn't want to disturb Nick. And they were all exhausted. Maybe they would notice more when they were filled with energy in the morning.

"So you contaminate evidence?" Richard asked annoyed. He didn't have time for this.

"Non!" Camille snapped. "I wasn't going to stay here, but-" -then Nick came along...She had wanted to stay with her Maman first.

"-It'll just take a quick moment." Richard pushed.

"Okay. If you think it'll help now." Camille opened her door further so he could pass.

Richard froze when he saw Nick lying in her bed, underneath one of Camille's sheets. Richard's mouth fell open. In HER bed. "I didn't know-" He looked at her. "I didn't realize-" He took a step back. That's why she'd wanted to wait until the morning. He turned around to face her. They had slept together? Just like that? Nick had stormed off angrily just earlier and somehow had come back... And what? They'd made up? Passionately? She had comforted him? There wasn't any other logic explanation was there?! Nick was right there! In her bed! Under a blanket! Richard swallowed. What else had he thought? You thought Camille Bordey didn't have sex? That her love life would be on hold because she got to know you? Of course not! He chastised himself.

"Let's just talk softly, so we won't wake him up." Camille urged without explaining as she closed the door behind Richard.

Camille was angry with him but caring towards Nick. That said it all, didn't it? Richard felt ashamed that he ever asked Catherine how to comfort her. He, Richard Poole thought about every move he made, every touch he did, and McGarrett just jumped in her bed easily. Or she let him. What a fool he was. "I didn't know-" Richard stammered.

"-Well, who knew? It's a surprise to me too." Camille answered softly. She thought she was going to sleep when she'd made her way up to her apartment. Not that she'd still be up an hour later, with two men in her apartment. One of them taking up space in her bed. She began to feel irritated. She was tired. She felt sad and alone.

"You know that this is a crime scene. Now you might have contaminated evidence." Richard complained.

"I-" What? Why was he sneering at her? "The-" And he sounded so cold. "Non, I already looked through everything. And we only used the bed. And the bathroom."

They USED THE BED?! Richard felt an enormous rage run through him, followed by sheer jealousy, spreading like poison through his veins. He had to look the other way. He swallowed. Kris had been right. She'd warned him that if he didn't take steps another man would be there for Camille. But how could he have known that that would be so soon? It hurt.

"I didn't see any clues, Richard." He heard Camille say.

"That you didn't see anything won't mean that I won't see anything of note. That's why I am your senior detective." He reminded her stridently.

Camille almost took a step back at this unexpected jab.

His green eyes were cold as they swooped over her face. "Let me be the judge of that next time, Detective Sergeant." He chastised.

Her mouth fell open as she looked at his retreating back.

"Was the bed made or unmade when Kris left?" He asked in a business like voice. He stood still in her bedroom and took everything in. Ignoring the sleeping man in her bed completely.

"It was made. Kris always made her bed in the morning." Camille answered as she followed Richard into her bedroom.

"Unlike now." Richard mentioned gruffly as he looked pointedly at Nick. Great, he had to face the bed where Nick lay. Her bed. Was she going to join him as soon as she could? Yes, of course she was. This was her bed, her home. She had chosen Nick McGarrett. Richard's eyes went to the headboard where he imagined handcuffs fit easily. He remembered Catherine's enthusiasm about that idea. Great. More anger flooded through him and he shut himself down fully over Camille. He had to focus on the case, on the facts. He could mull over all of this when he was at home. In his beach shack. With Harry. He'd have Harry and she'd have Nick.

Camille's mouth fell open slightly. What was wrong with him? Why did he sound so strange?

"Can you check if all her stuff is still here?" Richard asked in full police mode.

"I already did." Camille said softly as she tried not to roll her eyes and leaned against the wall. As if she didn't think of that herself!

Richard looked at her. His green eyes dark and stern. He looked displeased. "Again if you please. You know the drill." He stated shortly.

"I already checked this when I came in here!" Camille barked. Her patience was running low.

"Ssssshhtttt!" Richard chastised as he pointed at Nick. "He's trying to sleep." He loved throwing that back at her. Even though he knew that it was a low blow.

Camille ground her teeth as her nostrils flared. That man! She loosened herself from the wall and made her way over to the bathroom to go over everything once again. She was cursing in French under her breath.

Richard opened a dresser and searched there. His face hard and cold. Like stone. Unreadable.

"What are you doing?" Camille asked astonished when she came back from the bathroom.

"I was just looking, lots of people hide things in their-" Richard looked at his hand and saw the skimpy lingerie he was holding. "O!" He looked at it. It was lace and satin blue. How did that get in his hands? He swallowed and tried to lower it in the drawer clumsily but it stuck to his fingers for a reason he was oblivious too. "O, the o... I'm... S.. Sorry. I was looking through the socks, not the... The.. You know."

"I don't have socks." Camille mentioned annoyed. She looked at Nick to see if they hadn't woken him up. But he was still sound asleep.

"Well, there are socks here." Richard countered.

"Keep your voice down, he needs his rest." Camille chastised as she walked towards Richard.

"I bet he does." Richard mumbled as he gave a filthy glare to the figure on the bed. Like he would care if Nick would sleep or not. He wouldn't even care if Nick would disappear in a pile of manure and-

"There aren't any socks in there. I don't wear socks when it's 33 degrees. I'm not you." Camille crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"I could have sworn that I saw socks-" Richard countered weakly as he ruffled through the lingerie to find them and make his point. But all of a sudden, he couldn't find them.

Camille raised her brows, "That's my drawer, that's Kris's." She said as she pointed at the second drawer.

"O... Well... Never mind..." Richard muttered as he opened Kris's drawer. There were bras in all sorts of colors, some with the push up thingy in it. Richard went red.

Nick turned over on his back and the sheet fell off.

"Still mine. The right side is Kris's stuff." Camille mentioned tiredly as she walked towards Nick to adjust the sheet caringly over him again.

"For crying out loud, Camille! Is chaos your middle name? Can't you two arrange your- Skimpy lingerie?"

"Skimpy?!" Camille snapped. She stalked towards him angrily. "You weren't supposed to see my lingerie in the first place." She growled. What was that man thinking?! Interrupting her privacy like that and then complaining too?!

"I must assure you that that wasn't my intention either. Hence the question where Kris's things are. But you two just- throw everything-" He gestured wildly. "Everywhere."

Camille rolled her eyes. "I'll look through these drawers." She hissed in a soft tone, still thinking of Nick as she made her way over to her other cupboard.

"See!" He spat as he pointed.

"Shhhttt! Nick is trying to sleep!" Camille hissed.

"Socks." Richard took them from the drawer and showed her.

"Great. One pair of socks." She rolled her eyes again as she grabbed the socks from him and threw them over her shoulder angrily.

"You can't just throw-" Richard began as he followed the socks path through the air with his eyes. "Well, never mind. Whatever you like. If that's the way you like running a household... Who is someone decent like myself to stop you?" He turned away from her.

Camille breathed out slowly as she counted to ten.

"I thought you said no one would wear socks in this heat?" Richard mentioned snidely.

"They're for hiking." She growled. You smart ass!

"Yes, hiking in the heat. What sane person would do that?" Richard mumbled as he walked away.

"Probably not the same sane person that wears woolen suits on the beach in the afternoon." Camille shot back, ready to strangle him.

Richard ignored her as his eyes scanned his surroundings quickly. "Did you see anything.. Out of the ordinary?" He mumbled as he held up a pink satin bra and stared at it. How would that feel against your skin? If you were a woman? Against the soft skin of a breast? And the nipple? He imagined Camille's breasts pressing against this soft fabric and turned red instantly.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Er the- No..! I wasn't...It was on the chair." He defended himself quickly as she snapped the garment away from him and put it in the drawer. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." Now he would most certainly never sleep peacefully again, seeing all the skimpy underwear Camille had in her possession. "You left that out for Nick to see?" He blurted out. He regretted his words immediately. Why would his mouth say that?! Of course she did! Nick probably got to rip that bra from her body and see her fully naked. What was he even thinking?! And it wasn't any of his business. He just couldn't stop himself.

"This is my bedroom." She reminded him sharply as she put her hands on her hips.

Richard almost tripped over the socks that she'd just thrown away. He growled as he looked and bent to pick them up.

Camille snagged them away from his hands and put them in her drawer with too much force.

Richard put up his hands defensively. "Yes, you are right. It's none of my business. I can imagine this might feel like an intrusion in your private life." He cleared his throat. She was right. He should back off. She had chosen, she had chosen bloody-McGarrett. And who ever wanted a woman that threw items around like a little angry French child when she didn't get her way and had massive mood swings? Certainly not him.

"Nothing here." Camille said as she closed the drawer with a thud and gave him a glare.

"Right, the bed, maybe underneath... Or do you.. Have... Things hidden there..." Richard asked clumsily as he pointed at the bed.

What now? "What would I have hidden there?" She asked sternly.

"I don't know.. Some females might.. Keep... Some items there that you wouldn't want me to see.."

"What do you mean, Richard?" She asked tiredly. "Sex toys? A dildo?"

He flushed red again.

"I keep my extensive sex collection in the closet in a big box, there's not enough space for them underneath my bed." She snapped at him as she knelt and peeked under the bed.

"Maybe you should check the closet then." He stammered as she stood to go to the closet.

Camille sighed annoyed and opened the closet. "Calm down, Richard, I was just joking. I don't have a box of sex toys. I'd rather have the real thing, not the fake version." She admitted as she went through Kris's clothes but eyed his reaction carefully.

Richard swallowed. He was sure she'd gotten 'the real thing' only just now. Good for her. Or was it? She'd probably worn Nick out so much that he was sleeping through their heated and hardly silent arguments right now.

Camille sighed as she took Richard by his shoulder and led him away from the bedroom towards her small living room.

"Did you find anything useful?" Richard asked.

"Just that she took nothing." Camille answered as she'd closed the door softly behind her.

"Which is strange." Richard commented in deep thought.

"She probably has enough money now anyway." Camille said sadly. "She was always so attached to her stuff. She put so much emotional value into everything." Camille plopped down onto her couch. "She probably doesn't need any of her 'old' stuff for where she's going." Camille concluded bitterly. "She ruined her relationships, so she won't be needing anything emotional anymore."

Richard nodded as he tried to fit the puzzle piece into one another.

"Why don't you take the Defender? Excusez. I'm too tired to drive you to your shack. I really need a shower and rest. Come pick us up in the morning?"

"Us?" Richard blurted out.

"Oui. Nick and me." Camille explained surprised. What was his problem? "Did you not see the big guy in my bed?" She asked as she put the keys in his hands.

Why was she so open about this?! Was that a Caribbean thing? Heeey, I just had sex, see, he's right there! We all do it, so why not? Richard thought sarcastically. He looked at her hand that put the keys in his. He bit his lip when the familiar tingling sensation shot through him at her touch. He hated it. He hated that sensation. He didn't want to feel anything. For the first time in a long time, he felt like crying. Big lonely tears. And he felt ashamed for that. He wasn't a little child anymore! "Err... Tomorrow... Yes... Sleep well..."

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And? What did you think? Any thoughts about Kris?