A/N: It's time to see what Lori can do with a case that requires a bit of her expertise. People aren't always what they seem and nothing is ever easy for the Five-O team.

Chapter 7: We've Got a Body

Monday: 9:00 AM

Kono and Lori were laughing together in Kono's office when Steve stuck his head in the door. "We've got a body".

The ladies of Five-0 responded quickly to the implied demand and Lori headed for her office to grab her gear. Further discussion of seal team hottie and the Sunday date with Kono would have to wait.

"Hey, Boss," Kono called after McGarrett. "I've got court this morning at 10:00, the Frank Delano trial starts today."

"Oh, right. Good luck with that."

"Thanks"

"Let's go, Danno," Steve shouted from outside his office where Lori had promptly joined him. Danny appeared, fussing into his cell phone. "You said you weren't leaving until Thursday. I've got everything planned... Rachel... Just lis..." He banged the cell phone against his head and walked past Steve and Lori without a word. They glanced at each other wearily and fell in step behind Danny.

HPD was already on site when the three members of Five-0 arrived at the crime scene. They were directed upstairs where they found Josephine Brandon, an attractive, 48 year old mother of two lying on her back over the bathroom threshold. Max was standing next to the body making notes.

"Good morning, Agent Weston," he gave her a small bow in greeting. "Commander McGarrett... Detective Williams..."

"Morning, Max," Lori smiled.

Not much for small talk, Steve got right to the point. "What do you have Max?"

"I will know more after the autopsy, but it looks as if this may be the fatal wound," Max said pointing to a deep cut on the left side of the victim's neck. "The cut was deep enough to serrate the jugular and the amount of blood trailing from the wound and down her shirt is consistent with a bleed out."

Lori slipped into the bathroom, gracefully avoiding the body and the mess. She studied the victim and the scene, eyes darting here and there as her mind worked to process the details.

"What is it?" Steve asked.

Lori cocked her head to the side, squinting her eyes as she pieced together the clues in front of her. "She was leaning against the door... here inside the bathroom. All the blood pooled here," she indicated a massive pile of clotted blood by the victims hip. "It drained down her shirt, onto her pants and spread here on the floor. She was setting up, against the door when she died. Interior doors typically open in toward the room, not out into the hall."

"The husband and the neighbor used a crowbar to pull this one off the hinges," Danny spoke having just joined them upstairs after gathering what little information HPD had to offer. "The husband saw blood on the floor and couldn't budge the door. He ran to the neighbor's for help. Together they tore the door down. That was at 7:30 this morning".

"So if she was leaning against the door on the inside of the bathroom, how did our killer escape?" Steve wondered aloud.

Lori looked over her shoulder at the small window directly across from the opening where the door used to be. Putting on a pair of latex gloves, she went to investigate. "Locked," she said, "and painted shut. It hasn't been disturbed."

"Has anybody seen a serrated knife lying around here anywhere?" Danny asked still full of spit and vinegar from his conversation with the ex-wife.

Squatting next to the body, Lori lifted the victim's left hand. She surveyed the small cuts up and down both forearms and hands.

"Defensive wounds," Max offered.

"If you're a boxer, maybe. Defensive wounds are usually on the inside of the forearm and hands". Lori stood and crossed her hands in front of her face, palms open and forward in a protective gesture. "A victim under attack would stand like this, not like this..." She closed her fists and rotated her hands. "Like a boxer." Squatting again, she fingered the hem of the victim's skirt where a wayward circle of blood stained the garment. Just above the knee, Lori found the source of the blood. "She has four scars, two inch slash marks all in a row. The fifth cut is fresh". She looked up at Steve. "This means something". Turning to Max, she asked him to be sure and check for any other scars at autopsy. "I think she did this to herself," Lori offered.

Steve couldn't help the small smile of approval that lifted one corner of his lip. He was impressed.

"You're thinking this was a suicide?" Danny asked.

"I'm thinking we've got some work to do," Lori answered, "starting with that serrated blade."'.

"Max," Steve said as he pulled black latex gloves over his hands, "help me lift her up".

Max pulled the victim's shoulder toward him while Steve pushed. Slipping his free hand under her torso, he felt around for a weapon. Feeling something hard and cold near the victim's waist, he lifted her hip from the floor. Lori carefully retrieved the weapon by the handle, holding it securely between two fingers. She held it out for Steve to see.

"It's a rigging knife."

"Who uses a rigging knife?" Danny asked.

Steve and Max eased the body down gently and Steve stood. "It's a nautical knife. Anybody with a boat would have one."

"Huh," Danny grunted. "HPD said the husband owns Captain Brandon's Boat Tours. He was involved in a big racketeering scandel last year. Four boat captains were indicted. Mr. Brandon was cleared of all charges. That's why we got the call on this one".

Steve turned to the M.E. "Max, we'll check in with you later. Danny, why don't you go and talk to the neighbor that helped with the bathroom door, see if you can get anything new out of him. Lori and I will go and talk to the husband".

Downstairs in the kitchen, Lori and Steve found Mr. Brandon and a young woman sitting at the kitchen table. Their chairs were pushed together and the young woman had her hands wrapped protectively around the older man's arm. Lori immediately recognized the resemblance between mother and daughter. "Mr. Brandon?" Steve asked.

"Yes, Rich Brandon. This is my daughter Raena"

Steve extended his hand to the man and made his introductions. "I'm Commander Steve McGarrett and this is Agent Lori Weston. We're with Five-O. I'm very sorry for your loss".

"What happened to my wife?"

Steve glanced at Lori. "That's what we're trying to figure out".

"We have a few questions for you, if you don't mind," Lori began.

"Anything," the daughter replied.

"This might be difficult, but anything you can tell us, even if it seems insignificant, could help."

Father and daughter nodded, indicating they were ready.

"There are bruises on her forearm". Lori showed them the photo on her phone. "Do you know where they came from," she continued.

"Mom said that happened at work. She's the business administrator at a nursing home, Windsor Gardens of Poknana Street. She said she opened a broom closet and a bucket of mops and brooms fell on her. She had one of the staff doctor's look at it."

"She told you the same thing?" Lori asked Mr. Brandon.

"No, she didn't say anything to me. I guess I hadn't noticed." Regret clouded his face.

"What about this bruise, on her knee?" Lori pointed to a close up of Mrs. Brandon's right knee.

"I don't know about that one, I'm sorry," Raena answered.

Mr. Brandon simply shook his head.

"We also noticed a series of cuts on the inside of your wife's leg, just above the knee. Four were older wounds, scars, but the fifth was fresh. Do you know how she received these wounds?"

Raena looked at her father, obviously unaware that the wounds existed. Lori saw his pupils dilate slightly and then his eyes narrow as he stared at the photo. He hesitated before he spoke. "No, I don't have any idea." His features were hard, angry, warning Lori to move on. She watched as the daughter recognized the change as well.

"Mr. Brandon. Had you noticed any erratic behavior lately from your wife? Was she depressed or sad?"

"She's been sad for years. Our older daughter, Mishka was killed five years ago. She was stabbed in a mugging near KCC."

"KCC?" Lori asked

"Kapi'Olani Community College," Reana explained. "She was studying to be a pharmacy tech. She was attacked on her way home from a night class."

"Why do you want to know if she was depressed? Do you think she did this to herself," Mr. Brandon asked, seemingly already resolved to the fact.

"That's what we're trying to determine. Forgive me, Mr. Brandon, but you don't seem surprised that your wife may have killed herself," Lori prodded.

"Of course he's surprised!" Reana snapped. "My mother was always positive. Just yesterday, she was helping me plan a party at my new place. She wouldn't kill herself. She had way too much to live for".

"Do you agree, Mr. Brandon?"

"Jo wasn't herself lately…"

"Dad!" Raena jumped from her chair jerking her hands from her father's arm.

Mr. Brandon turned to his daughter. "I'm sorry, honey, but, it's true. Mom hasn't been herself lately. She wasn't eating or sleeping. I'd come home and find her crying in her chair or in the bed. I begged her to get help, but she wouldn't listen to me. She barely even spoke to me anymore".

Raena looked at Steve and Lori, her face pained with confusion and anguish. She looked back to her father. Shaking her head, she bolted from the room on a sob.

Mr. Brandon turned back to Steve and Lori, weary. Steve broke the silence, "We'll be in touch, Mr. Brandon, just a soon as we know anything. Thank you for your time".

Danny met the two of them at Steve's truck. "Anything?" Steve asked.

"The neighbor, a Mr. Alvin Liedecker, insurance agent, said that the two had been arguing a lot lately, but no violence that he was aware of. He said Mr. Brandon works late through the week. The younger daughter moved out about two months ago and the older daughter was killed five years ago, the end of November. That could explain the timing of the suicide. Christmas combined with the five year anniversary of their daughter's death, maybe it was too much."

"Could be," Lori said not sounding convinced.

"What are you thinking?" Steve asked.

"There's something else going on here. Did you see the way Brandon reacted when I asked him about the cuts on her leg? He hesitated. There's something he's not telling us."

"Let's get back to the office. We can run financials, arrest records, and phone logs. See what we come up with," Steve suggested.

Lori nodded. "I want to look at the older daughter's case file, see if anything pops. I also want to talk to Mrs. Brandon's coworkers at the nursing home, see what they know about her home life."

"Why don't you two go do that," Danny offered. "I'll catch a ride, start the background checks."

Windsor Gardens of Honolulu Senior Care Center

Lori and Steve were led to the business office by the facility's administrator where they were introduced to Mrs. Brandon's assistant, Akako Mai who was informed of Mrs. Brandon's death and excused to speak with Five-O while the rest of the staff was notified. Mrs. Mai was a petite Japanese American in her early fifties. She attempted to compose herself in an effort to answer any questions Steve and Lori might have.

"Mrs. Mai," Lori began, "thank you for talking to us. We're sorry for your loss. I know it's a shock, but any information that you can give us will be helpful."

Mrs. Mai nodded.

Lori continued. "Can you tell us anything about Mrs. Brandon's home life? Did she ever speak of her husband or her family?"

"I know she and her husband weren't getting along very well. She pretended everything was OK, but I could tell she was sad. She came to work this week with a bruise on her wrist. It was bad enough that one of the doctors here x-rayed it and prescribed pain medicine so that she could sleep at night."

"Did Mrs. Brandon tell you what happened?"

"She said she opened her closet door and some things fell from the shelf onto her arm."

"Did you believe her?" Lori probed.

"I thought it was a little suspicious, but I had never seen any bruises on her before".

"Mrs. Mai, have you ever met Mr. Brandon?"

"Yes, right after Jo's daughter was killed, he would come and pick her up from work. He was always early, sometimes as much as an hour or so early. He would set in a chair across from the business office, in front of the window and watch everyone work".

"Was he friendly with the staff?"

"No, he never spoke to anyone except Mrs. Beyers and Randall."

"Mrs. Beyers and Randall?" Lori asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Beyers is in charge of medical supplies and Randall is one of the orderlies."

"Are they working today?"

"Yes, Mrs. Beyers is here. Randall doesn't come to work until 3:00."

"Could you introduce us to Mrs. Beyers?"

"Sure," Mrs. Mai obliged. Steve and Lori followed her down the hall to the medical supply office.

"Mrs. Mai, one more question. You said Mr. Brandon started picking Mrs. Brandon up after their daughter was killed."

"Yes"

"Did that change?"

"Yes, he picked her up for a few weeks and then we didn't see him again until the following Halloween. I remember because one of the staff made the comment that Halloween brings out all the freaks and meanies. It seems like he appears every Halloween for a few weeks then he disappears again. Weird huh?"

"Yes, Mam," Lori agreed. "Thank you again for your time. You've been very helpful." Mrs. Mai smiled warmly at Steve and Lori grateful that she had been useful. After introducing them to Mrs. Beyer, she disappeared down the hall.

Mrs. Beyer was a tall African American woman in her late thirties. She had a beautiful smile and a warm personality. Lori asked her a few general questions about Mrs. Brandon. She learned that the two women were friendly, but never spoke outside of work. Mr. Brandon was pleasant enough according to Mrs. Beyer, but some of the other staff members did not feel the same way.

"Had anyone made any specific complaint about Mr. Brandon?" Lori asked.

"Just that he refused to speak even when spoken too."

"But Mrs. Brandon was well liked?"

"Yes, by everyone. She'll be missed".

"Thank you Mrs. Beyer for your time."

"You're welcome."

On the way out, Lori stopped in front of a bulletin board decorated with staff photos. "There's Randall," she commented, pointing to a red haired young man in his early twenties. The caption read, "Randall and Mrs. Oksowa enjoying bingo night festivities".

Steve looked over her shoulder at the board. "What do you notice about the majority of the staff here" she asked.

"They're all of Japanese descent," Steve confirmed.

"All except Mrs. Beyer's and Randall".

"This area of the city is known for its strong Japanese influence. After World War II, there was a massive influx of displaced Japanese into Hawaii. The government forced them to locate here so that they could be watched. There was a lot of distrust for a lot of years after the war ended".

"Huh," Lori managed as her stomach let loose with a hungry growl.

"I guess we should stop for lunch, huh?"

Lori smiled, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Lunch

Lori sat across from Steve at LuLu's Lunch Box, a small sandwich shop two blocks from the office. Chin's wedding and the events following seemed miles for gone. She wondered if her evening with Steve had really even happened. She spent Sunday afternoon on her deck replaying their walk on the beach over and over in her head. She knew it was a bad idea to get involved with someone she worked so closely with, but something about him beckoned to her. She wanted to know him better. She wanted him to know her better…

"What are you thinking about?" she heard him say from somewhere far away.

"What?" she asked.

"You were staring at the salt like it held the key to the universe."

"Was I?"

"Yes, you were. What were you thinking about?"

"I was just thinking that there's something more to this case than suicide. I can't shake the feeling that Mrs. Brandon was trying to tell us something with the bruises and the cuts."

"We'll go see Max when we're done… see if he found anything new."

Lori nodded in agreement as the waitress delivered two hardy portions to the hungry investigators.

Steve's phone rang. "Yeah, Kono, how did it go in court?" Steve watched as Lori briefly closed her eyes and bowed her head before diving into her burger and fries. "See what you can find on a murder, five years ago this past November. Vic's name was Mishka Brandon. It happened near KCC."

"Kono back from court?" Lori asked when Steve hung up the phone.

"Yeah, she's back at the office".

"Did she say how it went?"

"She said the prosecution presented a solid case."

"Good. Did she say how long they expect the trial to last?"

"No, just that".

Steve watched as Lori made light of the oversized burger she had ordered. He had learned a little more about this woman today, watching her work. She seemed to be in her element with this case. He agreed that they were on to something, even though he wasn't yet sure what that something was. He learned too that she could eat! Where she put it he didn't know, but it was fun seeing her pack it away. He chuckled as she sucked wayward sauce from her fingers. He had noticed too the quick little blessing she said over her food. After his brief conversation with Danny about faith and a higher power, Steve had felt he might be the last believer left on the island. Yes, he had learned quite a bit more about Lori today which, unfortunately, only made him even more curious. "So, um, have you thought anymore about Christmas"?

She took a sip of her Coke (regular, not diet) to buy her a second or two more before responding. "When are the two of you getting together?"

"Christmas Eve at my house. I'm cooking."

"I'm going to Christmas Eve service at 5:00; I suppose I come by after that."

"Good," Steve smiled, genuinely pleased. "We'll eat around 6:30".

"What should I bring?"

"We're having a chicken dish with pineapples and an island sauce. Why don't you bring a bottle of wine, your choice"?

Steve's phone rang again. "Max, good timing, we were just on our way to see you…. Alright, see you in a minute".

Steve and Lori pulled up short as they entered the Medical Examiner's office. Max was wearing oversized felt antlers and a red clown nose. He greeted the investigators as if he were in fact not wearing anything out of the ordinary at all. "Nice antlers Max". Lori offered on a smile.

"Thank you Agent Weston. The story of Rudolph is one of my favorite Christmas fables. I love the way the little fellow reaches deep and rises to the occasion accomplishing that which seems impossible".

"I always liked A Charlie Brown Christmas"

Lori and Max looked at Steve as if he were an alien.

"What? It's a great show."

Lori turned back to Max. "Did you find anything interesting on our vic?"

"Well, the toxicology screen came back positive for Percocet, 30mg. That's three to five times higher than what is typically prescribed for pain. It was taken within three hours of her death."

"Percocet… that's oxycodone, right?"

"You are correct, Agent Weston… oxycodone and acetaminophen."

She looked at Steve. "That's a lot of medication for an old bruise."

He nodded in agreement. Lori did a double take seeing Steve standing across from her in his signature wide legged stance, arms crossed over his chest. She felt a small flutter in her gut. Chiding herself for her lack of focus, she quickly returned her attention to the body, she pointed to Mrs. Brandon's hands. "Anything unique about the wounds on the tops of her hands and arms?"

"The wounds are mostly superficial, a little deeper on the left hand and arm than the right, but certainly not enough to do any permanent damage. The fatal wound was, in fact, to the neck… the jugular was severed. She would have exsanguinated in less than three minutes".

"What about the bruise on her knee," Steve asked.

"Also superficial. There appears to be multiple blows to the knee, but none of the blows were delivered with enough force to bruise the patella".

"And the cuts to the inside of the leg?"

"Those were a bit more challenging. I looked at the scar formation for each striped wound. They appear to be in varying stages of scar formation and regression. The wound closest to the knee is the oldest, perhaps four to five years old. The scars are progressively more recent as you approach the fresh cut".

Lori crossed her arms and pulled in a long, deep breath while Steve ran a hand over his face each processing the new information in their own way.

"Anything else?" Steve asked.

"I believe that covers it, Commander."

"OK, thanks".

"You're welcome," Max obliged with a small bow.

"Thanks, Max"

"Oh, you are welcome as well, Agent Weston".

Steve held the door for Lori and waited for her to exit. "What's you're theory?" he asked.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours".

"You first".

"Well, it's not really a theory per say, but there are some pretty interesting consistencies like the number five for one: five wounds and a murder five years ago. We've got Mr. Brandon's prejudice against Japanese Americans, and a suicide in which the victim seemingly tried to frame her husband for murder. Maybe if we answer the why of that, we can figure out what she was trying to tell us…"

They stopped at his truck. "Let's see what Kono dug up on the daughter's murder. Maybe that'll tell us something."

A/N: That seemed like a good place to take a breather. I've never written a case fic before so I would appreciate any and all constructive criticism! A Christmas review would make my day!