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He gently closes the rear sliding door behind him and slips off his flip flops. Stows them into the side pocket of his backpack before he pulls his tee over his head and unzips and shimmies his shorts over and down his hips and lets them fall to the dining floor.
He is not wearing any underwear, so he stands nude and exposed in the dining room. Goose flesh rising on his arms and calves, he bends to gather up all his clothes and puts them into the pack too.
He looks around in the morning light, sees familiar furnishings and knickknacks, an unread paper still folded on the desk.
This is far from his first time in this house, but after tonight it will be his last.
After tonight he will have what he has wanted for so long, and there will be no need to come here again.
At the thought of his quarry, he moves farther into the room, running a hand over the cold, smooth surface of the dining table, thinking of the fun he will have here.
Then, padding into the light and cheery living area, masculine, but lived in, he takes in the sight of framed, family photos of laughing children. Throw-pillows left on the floor. A bowl of stale popcorn on the coffee table.
This table is sturdy, too, so he can see the potential.
Next, he wanders into the kitchen and pulls a glass from the cabinet over the sink, finding the orange juice on the top shelf of the fridge, just like it always is.
He fills his glass and drinks quickly, excited anticipation working through his veins.
There is a table here too, it's older and not as stable, but maybe…
He can hardly wait.
All his dreams and wants…all his grand plans will come to him tonight.
He finishes his last gulp of juice and puts the cup into the sink, not bothering to rinse it, and then makes his way down the hall and to the first bedroom, his backpack in tow.
The door is slightly open. In the dreary light of morning, he can make out a full-sized bed dressed in pale purples and pinks. And even though he can't see it clearly in the dim light, a fuzzy stuffed bunny resting against the pillows where it has sat during many of his visits.
The door to the bathroom is closed this morning, but there isn't much to explore there.
He already knows what kind of soap and shampoo he would find. In his bag, he has a small vile of pleasant-smelling fragrance. He took just enough so as not to be noticed. Still, enough to use sparingly when he is alone in bed at night, his hand wrapped tight and working his hard and aching cock.
The next room belongs to another child, too small to be of any interest, so he moves to the door at the end, that when pushed, opens into a large master suite.
The bed is just as soft and comfortable as he remembers, as he drops his bag and lays down on the morning crisp linens.
He supposes he could take a nap, he has the time, but instead, he gets up and pads to the closet, opening the sliding door and looking up to see the hatch to the attic.
This early, the upper space will be cool enough to do his work, and once the sun is higher in the sky, he will come back down and get things ready.
The door moves effortlessly and quietly, as he has used some oil on the hinges to make sure it stays that way.
Once he hoists himself up, he pushes his bag to the side and crawls over and lays in the folds of the bedding he has brought with him from home.
He settles in and grabs his bag. Pulling out his laptop and connecting to the house internet, where he uses a program of his own design to pull up the camera access, he has carefully set up.
Selecting the room he wants to view, the bedroom comes into sharp focus, mainly the king-sized bed below.
Countless nights he has observed deep breathing dreamed filled, sleep or fitful, noisy, night terrors.
Cuddling and comforting kids.
Lonely nights with just a hand or occasional toy and on some nights, few nights, lovemaking, or his most favorite, fast, and furious fucking.
He has more to do. Preparations to make. Picking out items to use and finding the perfect pair of undergarments to lie out on the bed. For now, he decides to think about the fucking, his hand smoothing over hairless chest and navel, his palm circling, circling, and then grabbing his hardening cock.
Tonight, he will finally possess that which he has so patiently waited for. Still, now…now he has time to relax and enjoy all his accomplishments.
Tonight, his prize will not only be within his reach, but his total control and he will finally have what he wants the most.
There will be no fear…
He will have plenty of space to do his work…
All the time he needs…
Tonight, he will be fulfilled once again and thinking on the carefully planned, long weekend and all that he will have, he comes over his hand and into the bedding, but he doesn't care…after tonight he will never be here again…but the memories…the memories will always, always be with him.
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Six months earlier…
Danny was irritated, but what else was new?
Steve was currently barreling down the highway. Early on a Monday morning. Back wheels momentarily losing traction on the wet pavement, making the Camaro fishtail before getting it back under control.
"Why," he asked and then asked again, "why must you drive like a deranged nutcase, in the rain, in my car?"
For his part, Steve just smirked at him. Then he returned his attention to the crowded highway as civilian vehicles parted like the red seas to get out of his partner's way.
"I'm serious," he huffed, his voice pitching higher, "on the days we have your truck, we aren't breakneck driving to the scene of a homicide…the person is already dead…they aren't going anywhere!"
"I can't see the future, Danno."
As if that explained everything.
He wasn't sure what level of incredulity graced his face, but when Steve glanced his way, he just said, "how am I supposed to know when we will be called to a scene?"
"A scene…a scene?"
He felt like a damn parrot. "A scene is not the point, Steven…the point is…" Before he got to the point that his partner of nine years was a complete idiot. Said partner slammed the brakes and slid neatly into a space in front of an ordinary house on an ordinary street. Then they were both getting out of the car.
Duke rushed toward them, holding a big black umbrella, his pace brisk and his face grim.
Some poor schmuck in a uniform dashed past them, almost making it to the gutter before tossing his breakfast on the sidewalk.
Danny hung back a bit to make sure the guy was gonna be okay. At the same time, Steve talked to Duke. He then headed toward the house, barking orders, instructing the forensics unit to get up some command tents and then disappearing into the house.
Duke gave Danny a weary look, telling him, "it isn't pretty," and then to his officer, "go wait for the coroner and bring her through when she gets here."
"Yes, sir," the guy said, straightening up as Duke turned on his heels to talk to the rest of the officers on the scene.
There was a perimeter to set and doors to knock on, and Duke would need to coordinate all the people coming and going.
Danny turned to see the pallor of the cop, as the rain puttered out, and a trembling hand wiping at his mouth and said, "Don't sweat it, man…the first few times can be really rough."
"Yeah…ah, thanks…sir?"
"Danny Williams," he told him. "I would shake your hand, but…"
The guy looked down at his hands and then wiped both down the front of his uniform, "yeah…I better…" he canted his head toward the street, turning to wait for the white van that would bring Dr. Cunha.
Danny found Steve in the front room, stopping to take some shoe covers from one of the SI techs and pulling on the black nitrate gloves he always had stuffed in his pockets.
He followed Steve down the hall as his partner told him about their victim.
"White female, early thirties, sitting at the kitchen table, posed…cause of death appears to be ligature. No sign of blood or other wounds, no sign of forced entry. Found by her brother, James Wilmore, when a next of kin call came from her place of employment.
She was a no show this morning, her office manager said it was very out of character and her brother agreed, came over to check on his sister and found her here."
They had arrived at the doorway to the kitchen. Steve pushed the door opened, stepping onto a step plate used to keep investigators from contaminating any evidence on the floor, shoe prints, footprints, blood pools, or spatter.
Danny scanned the clean-looking floor first. Stepping to the next plate as his eyes looked side to side. Trying to see anything useful before finally looking up to see the young woman sitting with her back to them.
He knew she was dead, her coloring indicated the fact. Still, if he squinted his eyes and tilted his head, he could imagine her just sitting here this very morning. Enjoying breakfast and a cup of coffee before heading to work.
Her back was bare, her long blond hair covering her shoulders and coming halfway down the chair.
Her right hand was resting on the table, near a cloth napkin and fork. Her left-hand fingers were wrapped around a mug.
He could imagine her brother rushing into this kitchen. Seeing his sister sitting at the table, perhaps relief flooding him before noticing something was terribly wrong.
Steve went to the right to talk to a tech, having already seen the scene. But Danny went to the left and noted a plate of congealing, over easy eggs and soggy bacon on the plate, a piece of cold buttered toast, with a single perfect bite taken from one corner of the triangle. Then he steeled himself to look up at his victim and thought, no wonder that Uni puked.
She was nude, he could see that now, and her body was still in rigor, as her spine was straight, and her chin was up as if looking out the window over the sink across from her.
Her once blue eyes were covered in a milky film, and her tongue was swollen and parting her red lips. Lower, around her neck, was what appeared to be a black silk stocking, wrapped again and again, so tightly that it compressed her neck…only inches thick.
Danny looked at her face again. Noting the fresh coat of lipstick and thickly lined eyes and then her hair. Noting that it seemed freshly washed and combed, in fact, her whole body looked like it was clean if covered with various bruises that may have not even been visible when they had arrived.
Steve came back over and told him, "there is a team in the bedroom and bathroom, and a freshly washed and dried set of sheets were found in the dryer, but her bed was completely made."
Danny nodded, telling him, "we should talk to the brother too about the makeup. I saw a family picture in the front room, and she had a light-colored lip and soft eyes…this seems a little heavy-handed."
"Yeah…I thought that too. Noelani is coordinating with the SI unit head, Choi. Once he clears the kitchen, she will get the body back for autopsy. In the meanwhile, you speak to the brother and call Lou, tell him to work friends and coworkers…try to get a timeline and get Junior and Tani to help with the leg work.
She was an accountant, so get Jerry to run her financials and look for anything suspicious, investigate her clients' list, maybe we will get lucky."
Somehow, he doubted that…but he followed Steve back to the front room, taking off his gloves as Steve did, and his shoe covers and handed them to the tech to be cataloged with all the other evidence.
"What about you?" he asked, as they stepped back to the front porch and Danny spotted the same officer from earlier standing next to an ambulance door. Presumably, the victim's brother sitting on the bumper wrapped tight in a thermal blanket.
"I am off to speak to Mayor Fern, our victim, Ashley Wilmore Fern, was his son's ex-wife."
Well, that explained how they got the case to begin with. The Homicide department would typically handle a situation like this, no matter how horrific, unless there was some sort of threat to national security or had a political tie.
"I'll ask the sensitive questions, do the formal interview of Fern, and then I'll meet up with you for lunch, go over what we have, and set up a time for the family to come in."
"Yup," he called, watching as Steve drove off in his car.
He approached the ambulance, saying, "Thank you…"
"Ben," the Uni told him. "Ben Whiley."
"Officer Whiley, I have it from here."
"Yes, sir."
Once he was alone with the brother, he pulled out his notebook and settled on the bumper next to the man. A dejected slump to his shoulders and a bowed head screaming at Danny to leave him alone, but Danny had to ask some hard questions and now, while it was still fresh in the man's mind.
"James? I'm Detective Sergeant Danny Williams, with the Five-O Task Force."
The head lifted, and sad and puffy eyes searched Danny, and then James cleared his throat.
"I need to ask you some questions…"
After a small nod, Danny went on, "Can you tell me when was the last time you saw your sister before today?"
"Yeah," his voice was hoarse, but he went on, "we ah…we went out for drinks on Friday night after work…she ah…she picked me up from work, and we went to the Hilton."
Danny jotted down what was being said, asking, "Where did she pick you up from?"
"I work at a, a sub shop off of A Street, Fast Jimmy's…she picked me up around ten, and we hand dinner…drank for a few hours, trying to unwind, ya know…she's…she was swamped, she didn't say why just mentioned that a new client was being audited. It was sorta an all hands on deck type situation…she got a call, a little after midnight, and had to go."
"Do you know who called her?" Danny had already planned on putting in a request for cell phone records, but at least now he had a time frame to look at.
"No…work, I think…she said she now had to be up early the next day and called me an Uber. She hugged me and left…I waited for the car and went home…I didn't think…I mean…" shoulders shaking, his head went back down, and Danny closed his book and patted the arm closest to him.
"I'm sorry for your loss," he said, knowing that his words were inadequate, but went on, "Is there someone I can call for you, someone to pick you up?"
"No…it's just…it was just her and me. Our mother lives in Denver and our dad passed several years ago…Oh, God…I have to call my mom…"
"I can do that for you…okay, don't worry about that…I can take care of that for you."
After a few sniffles, the head came back up, and James told him, "thanks, man, but I need to do it."
"Okay, James…Just a few more questions, and then I will get someone to drive you home, and when you are feeling up to it, I would like to speak with you again, see if maybe you can remember anything else from Friday night.
Now, did you notice anyone taking an interest in your sister at the Hilton, or did she have a boyfriend?"
"I didn't notice, no…it was just a usual Friday night and no…no boyfriend now…she was seeing a guy, ya know, after the divorce…but I don't know much about him…He was only around a bit once I got here to the island, and she didn't want to talk about him, so I didn't ask…"
"But," Danny prodded.
"But, I think…I think he was a little off, ya know…a little different, but before you ask, I don't think he could have done something like this…he wasn't…I don't know, man enough, if that makes sense…he was all...save the whales and recycle and watch your carbon footprint shit…nerdy…I just, I don't think he could fight his way outta a paper bag, ya know?"
Danny nodded, then asked, "was your sister wearing makeup on Friday night?"
James said, "yeah," but got a peculiar look on his face.
Danny asked, "what is it?"
"She wears…wore some makeup, yes…but not like…not like I saw today…I don't even think she owns a red lipstick…she prefers…preferred to look more natural…if that makes sense."
"Yes, it does…Thank you, James… I'll be in touch." Danny looked around and saw that Whiley was still standing nearby, so called him over, "Can you take Mr. Wilmore home…arrange to have his car taken too?"
"Yes, sir."
He spotted Duke and walked toward him, asking, "can you get SI to look through her makeup? See if they can find what she was wearing on her face this morning and oh, yeah…can you ask a Uni to drop me at the HQ?"
"Sure thing, Danny." The sergeant signaled to another Uni, telling him, "give the detective a lift."
Danny left him then, following behind another guy in uniform, pulling his phone from his pocket, dialing Lou, to get the proverbial ball rolling. Thinking to mention the ex-boyfriend. See if anyone else close to Ashley got the same vibe about the guy. Because one thing Danny did know, was that no one really knew anyone, what people were really capable of, what really lies within.
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