Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Hawaii Five-0.
You Owe Me
Part 6
By
N. J. Borba
"Trooper is okay, though, isn't she?" Catherine asked before he could even end the crazy account of his afternoon.
They'd driven separately to the ceremony but now walked together, their dress blues perfectly pressed for the occasion. A mild breeze blew across the land and a small concentration of rain clouds hung overhead. Fine mist drifted to the ground, soaking in to the pristinely cut grass. Catherine leaned against him as they moved toward the gathering, carefully watching each step she took. Steve had one arm slung about her shoulders and gave her a tender squeeze as they strolled.
"Trooper is fine," he assured her. "In fact, Danny wants to recruit her for police work," Steve joked. "You would've been proud of her, the way she protected your stuff. And you should be very happy to know that all of your things made it safely to..." he stopped short of saying his place. "Your clothes and everything else are all at home with Trooper. I even made sure the record player didn't have any scratches, and no broken vinyl."
Catherine halted their forward movement, turned in his arms and looked up at him. "Steve, all of that stuff in your truck…" her breath hitched a little as she gazed in to the depths of his stormy blue eyes. "I hope you know that none of those things are worth more to me than you," Catherine declared.
"And Trooper," Steve quickly replied. "She was in more danger than I was."
"Yeah, of course. Trooper, too," she nodded, sensing that her sentiments had been a little more than he could handle at the moment. The swiftness with which they'd flowed from her lips had startled her as well. "Did she really stop your suspect for you?" Catherine asked as they resumed their walk.
"She did. It was great," he nodded. "Trooper has a serious defensive side to her."
With a soft smile, Catherine took his hand. "She was protecting you and Danny. As much as she's become my dog the last few days, she's also become yours."
Steve was a little surprised by the realization, but he liked the thought of the animal being theirs. He decided not to mention to her how the dog had growled at Harrington earlier, but Billy was certainly on his mind at the moment. "I suppose you think you're pretty subtle don't you," his words were more a statement than a question, "The way you casually suggested I should talk to Harrington this morning. You knew what secret he was keeping about Chase didn't you?"
"He confided in me yesterday," Catherine readily confirmed. "I trust him, Steve. Not because we had a relationship, and not even because we served together. But because I consider him to be a friend," she spoke with certainty. "You know I've never made friends easily. With all the moving around I did as a kid I found it safer to close myself off to people, not get attached. That way I wouldn't miss them when we left."
He squeezed her hand a little tighter upon hearing that explanation.
"And you should know that you have to do a lot to earn my respect," she concluded.
"I do know that," Steve replied, counting himself lucky to be among the few who had earned a place within her tight comfort sphere.
She leaned against his shoulder a bit heavier. "You didn't have to be here for this, but thank you," Catherine said as they neared the gathering.
Steve looked across the grassy land to the stone wall they were approaching. "Actually, I did," he replied. "Dugan's death is my case, a still unsolved one," Steve felt bad for that second fact. As he looked over at Catherine he flashed a sympathetic smile her way. "But mostly I wanted to be here for you. I know how difficult these services can be," he said as he noticed Billy Harrington was already there, standing up front. There were no chairs, just a small gathering with everyone standing.
"I hate how I let my friendship with Cathleen slide to the point where this is all we have left," Catherine revealed with regret, her emotions getting the better of her. "I'm not even sure how many military funerals I've been to over the years," she sighed.
They arrived at the memorial wall where Dugan's ashes would soon be interned. It was a tall stone wall, smooth, ivory granite. Dozens of other vaults lined the wall alongside Dugan's open space. All of them engraved with names, times, declarations of love and duty. Since there was no casket, an American flag was displayed on a pole next to the opened vault. And a picture of the woman was propped beside the flag. Catherine did her best to pull on her steely military face as they stood among the small group of people who'd gathered.
"I was five years old the first time my dad took me to a military funeral," Catherine spoke again. "It was for his best friend, Lieutenant Benjamin Irvine. They'd gone through basic together, Irvine died in a training accident," she recalled, thankful for the way Steve remained at her side, holding her hand, listening intently. "For some reason the volley gun salute still always gets to me," she admitted. "Most days I love the Navy and I don't regret a single second of my service. But sometimes I also hate it for taking away so many good people."
"It never gets easier, does it?" he commiserated, having attended more than his fair share of services as well.
"This might seem strange to admit," Catherine almost hesitated to tell him, "But when I die I'd rather not have all of this pomp," she finally declared. "I get that it has its merits, and I completely respect them. Normally I love tradition," she shrugged. "But after spending so much time under the regimented life of the military I just think when I die I'd rather be set adrift on the ocean; a burial at sea. Kind of how the islanders do it here sometimes," Catherine noted. "I like that."
"Me, too," Steve agreed, turning briefly to kiss the side of her head.
They quieted when the Navy chaplain began the service.
Steve recognized most of those gathered as being MLC employees, people he'd questioned about her life and death. Standing beside Harrington was Keith Myer. Steve recalled the man speaking fondly of Dugan, thinking of her like a daughter. And beside Myer was a young woman who Steve guessed was the man's daughter, the one who'd gone surfing with Cathleen. He thought that Dugan's lack of family seemed to be made up by those she'd worked with, sort of the way his team had all become a close family.
He hated that his head was considering all of those in attendance to be suspects for Dugan's murder.
Catherine felt Steve squeeze her hand a little tighter during the volley salute and she was grateful of the connection. She watched closely as the servicemen folded the flag with military precision and genuine care. Then their former CO walked the flag over to Billy, who accepted the item on Dugan's behalf. Harrington held the flag with both hands, closed his eyes for a beat and then placed it in the vault next to the silver urn of Dugan's ashes. When the chaplain concluded the service, Catherine separated from Steve and went to greet Billy.
Harrington smiled softly to see her. "Commander Teller asked if I'd do that for Cathleen, accepting the flag and all," he revealed. "Since she didn't have any family left."
"Is it wrong that I'm actually glad her mother didn't have to go through all this," Catherine said as she leaned forward and hugged Billy. "I'm so sorry about Cathleen, and Martin," she whispered the words to him before backing out of the brief embrace.
Billy acknowledged Steve with a handshake. "Hard to believe both of them are gone," he sighed, trying to keep it together. "I spoke to Marty's dad earlier, just after you told me about his death this morning," he looked to Steve. "He's going to have Marty cremated," those words were directed more to Catherine. "He asked me to be the one to bring Marty home, so I'm be flying to San Francisco sometime in the next few days. I guess you'll have to spend your first few days of work on your own," Billy told Catherine.
She nodded. "That'll give me a chance to get some painting done," Catherine lent her support. "Get the office in working order."
He gave a weak nod of approval. "I should be going, but I'll see you at your ceremony tomorrow."
"No, Billy," her head shook. "I'll understand if you don't want to be there, if it's all too much."
"I'll be there," Billy reaffirmed. "We all need something to celebrate right about now." He looked to both of them again, "Thank you both for being here."
Catherine watched her friend walk away, her heart heavy with worry for him. It didn't seem right to lose two good friends in as many days. She turned toward the parking lot, looking for Steve's hand. He was there beside her again as they walked, but his touch felt a bit stiff to her. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"I didn't say anything, did I?" Steve kept his eyes on the grassy path ahead of them.
"You didn't have to say anything, the look on your face says plenty," Catherine pointed out. "It was just a hug, Steve," she guessed that was the main thing bugging him at the moment. "Ex's can be friends, you know. I mean, there was that whole Dawson, Pacey and Joey saga for example," Catherine tried to lighten the mood.
"Are you seriously comparing our situation to a TV show?" he wasn't upset so much as he was concerned about her, because something still seemed off about Billy.
"You caught that Dawson's Creek reference?" she smiled.
He shrugged. "Mary used to watch it," his tone remained reserved.
"Steve," a frustrated look flashed in her eyes as she addressed him, "I'm just trying to point out how completely ridiculous you're being." She instantly regretted her wording, realizing how harsh it might have come across. Catherine could see him trying to avoid her gaze, but she persisted. "Being jealous of Billy is pointless," suddenly she wasn't so afraid to tell it to him straight. "Because of one very important fact, which is that I'm not in love with him," Catherine declared.
"That doesn't change the fact that Billy wasn't completely truthful with us, Cath," he was quick to remind her.
"When I asked him directly he was honest," she defended. "Obviously it was hard for him to tell us about Martin's secret. And no one wants to believe their friends could do something wrong, especially murder. He's been protecting Martin for a good part of his life. You know something like that runs deep for friends," Catherine pointed out. "Billy and I have remained friends and I don't regret that, Steve. I value that. We had a very brief time together and…"
"I don't need to know details," Steve tried to stop her, dropping her hand from his grip.
"What we had was special in that time and place," Catherine persisted. "But it was never serious, and I ended it," she emphasized that last point. "Maybe because I was still hung up on someone else," Catherine could see he was still uncomfortable with the topic. "You know I had doubts about Billy's job offer, but the more I thought about it the more it seemed like the right fit. We trust each other and we know we can work well together because we have before. We know we'll have each other's backs if there's ever a dangerous situation," she explained. "The only thing I hope is…" Catherine took Steve's hand again, "That you can trust me."
"I do trust you, Catherine," Steve immediately assured her. His head dipped, forehead pressing against hers as he looked her in the eye. Steve couldn't help be swayed by her honesty. He admired her for it. "Completely," he affirmed.
That was all she needed to hear as they continued toward their vehicles, hand-in-hand again.
"Might not even matter that Billy told us about Chase being gay," Steve's thoughts were on the case again. It was hard for him to think about much else with two unsolved deaths on his mind. "Chase obviously still cared about Dugan as a friend, loved her even. Maybe that was enough to change those drawings for her and get the money she needed to pay her mother's medical bills. Which would mean he's probably not the male partner we're looking for in all this, could actually just be a victim."
"What are you talking about?" Catherine looked to him with confusion. "Why would Martin Chase need a scheme to secure money? He was rich."
Steve gave a small nod. "Chase obviously made decent money working as an architect. He did have a very nice house and a pricey car, but it's doubtful he could get his hands on as much cash money as Dugan needed without refinancing his home or selling the car. And Chin didn't find anything like that in his financial background."
"But he had the trust fund," she said, as if that knowledge should've been apparent to him.
"What trust fund?" Steve saw something in Catherine's gaze that told him she knew more than he did.
"Chase only worked as a designer because he loved it," she revealed. "Billy told me Martin easily had the money to give Dugan," Catherine could see the surprise on Steve's face and she sighed, "He didn't tell you that part, did he?" she bit her lip apprehensively.
"No, Billy never mentioned anything about Chase having a trust. More lies," Steve was instantly upset. "What is going on with him, Cath?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure," she was suddenly at a loss.
000
"Catherine was right," Chin said as he met Steve and Danny in the lobby.
"About the money?" Steve guessed.
Chin nodded as they all entered the elevator. "Chase made a decent living at MLC, but not nearly enough to warrant the big beach front house or pricey Jaguar. For years he drew an annual income from the trust but it became fully instated when he turned twenty-five. Most of the money is in foreign accounts, though, which is why it didn't show up on my cursory look in to his financials. His father's business was based overseas for many years despite the fact that he ran things from San Francisco."
"So how much is the guy worth?" Danny wondered, pressing the second floor button.
"He's been drawing from the trust for ten years," Chin answered as the elevator doors closed, "And the money he gave Dugan put a small chunk in it. Still, due to some strong investments over the years, the trust has stayed pretty stable at the one point five million dollar tax bracket," Chin finally revealed. "Martin Chase was also a smart guy, even at age thirty-five he had a Last Will and Testament that clearly dictated where the money would go in case of his death."
Steve was almost sure of what was coming, but still asked, "Who's his beneficiary?"
"That would be his good friend, William Harrington," Chin confirmed.
Danny frowned upon hearing that rather intriguing bit of information. "So now Harrington is back on the most wanted list?" he looked to his partners. "Maybe he got some of those green colored contacts to throw us off," Danny sighed, more than a little exasperated by the drawn-out case.
"I'll be the first to point out that something very strange is going on with Billy," Steve replied, still curious why the man had told Catherine about the money and not him. "But my guess is that Billy never even knew about the inheritance," Steve replied. "I don't believe he had anything to do with killing Dugan or Chase. Right now my gut is telling me there's something big right under our noses, which is why we're here," he impatiently tapped his foot, wondering how a single story ride could take so long.
"Your gut has been telling you that for several days now and, no offense, but it hasn't gotten us very far," Danny grumbled. "Maybe you should just take some Pepto-Bismol for that gut issue and we can be done with this," he remarked as the elevator dinged and opened its doors.
Paying little heed to his partner's comment, Steve marched down the hall.
He pushed open the door to MLC's second floor offices and made his way to the receptionist's desk before realizing how little light there was in the space.
"You saving energy or something?" Danny was the one to ask.
The receptionist looked up at them from behind her desk. "I'm the only one here at the moment, so yes."
"Beth, isn't it?" Steve remembered her from their previous visit, and he'd seen her at Dugan's memorial an hour ago.
"Yes, and you're Commander McGarrett from Five-0," she acknowledged, standing up to speak to them. "I'm the only one here right now. Mr. Myer gave us all the day off so we could attend Cathleen's service," Beth explained. "He said we should take the day to be with our families."
"Then why are you here?" Danny eyed the woman suspiciously.
"I spent most of the day with my two-year-old daughter. But on my way home from Cathleen's service I remembered something important. There's a design contest that the entire office has been working on for weeks, a multi-use high-rise in Beijing. The deadline to submit is midnight tonight so I came in to finish the cover letter and email the project files," Beth explained. "Hawaii not having an infinite amount of buildable land, Mr. Myer thinks we need to branch out globally. We used to be one of the biggest architectural firms in the state, but the past two years we've had to lay off five people. It's never fun to watch someone lose their job."
Steve could sympathize, but he had something else on his mind at the moment. He glanced down the dark hallway. "Anyone else here?"
"I don't think so," Beth's head shook as she moved around her desk and flipped a switch. The hall lights came to life. "All overhead lighting was off when I got here."
"How long have you worked here, Beth?" Chin asked.
"Nearly five years," she answered.
"You must know a lot about this place," Chin guessed. "Do you know if there are security cameras in any of the offices?"
"No, none that I know about," Beth replied.
"Mind if we take a look around?" Steve was already moving down the hall, not waiting for an answer. Chin and Danny followed close behind. They inspected Dugan's office first and found a small bit of sticky residue high on the wall where their camera angle view had been focused from.
Within a few minutes they'd tracked down Chase's office and found a similar sticky area on the wall.
"Max mentioned that Chase was left handed," Steve reminded them as he stood in the man's office, eyes searching for something to help them out.
"Right," Danny replied. "I mean, that's correct. Is that significant?"
Steve mulled it over some more. "There are considerably fewer left handed people on the planet than right handed people. So who would know enough to set up Chase's death to look like a suicide, including shooting him in the left side of the head? Someone close," he asked and answered. "Family and friends know those sorts of details about a person."
"And co-workers would," Chin realized. "Especially ones who work in such a design heavy field. Everyone in this office probably knew Chase was left handed."
Danny nodded. "Okay, but we're still looking for a woman, right - the one who was on those videos? So maybe we need to think like a woman," Danny suggested.
"Good luck with that," Steve challenged.
"No, I think Danny might be right," Chin was quick to defend. "We all know that women don't commit murder as often as men. And when they do kill their motive is usually much more emotionally driven, whereas guys are typically motivated by money or revenge."
"So what makes a woman emotional?" Steve questioned.
"What doesn't?" Danny scoffed cynically.
"Relationships," Chin gave a less jaded answer.
A nod came from Steve. "That's right. It almost always leads back to love," he agreed. "So we need an emotionally driven woman who probably didn't like Dugan," Steve added. "Do we all remember Melanie Lawson?" he moved toward the door and stepped out in to the hallway again.
"You mean MLC office winner for bitchiest co-worker award?" Danny asked, "Vaguely."
"Wouldn't you say she's about five-six? Certainly a slight woman," Steve made the correlation between Lawson and their mysterious camera figure. "And she didn't deny having issues about working with Dugan. She was actually very direct about it. She was also the only person from MLC that I noticed wasn't at Dugan's service today."
"I thought we agreed she wasn't a threat," Danny watched his partner as the three of them moved down the hall. "And of course she wouldn't be there if she didn't like the woman."
A regretful sigh escaped, "We did dismiss her. Maybe that was a mistake," Steve couldn't help thinking that mistake may have cost Chase his life. "Lawson telling us about her dislike of Dugan straight off was smart. She didn't seem the type, and we agreed that their positions with the firm didn't compete. But she certainly was quick to assume that Chase and Dugan were intimate. And we also know she worked closely with Chase, because she said anytime she had structural work that needed doing she'd get Chase to deal with Dugan for her."
"That's right," Danny recalled.
"So telling us she didn't like Dugan was her preemptive way to throw us off track," Chin realized. "You're right, smart."
"Maybe she actually had her sights set on Chase," Steve shrugged, looking at the name placards on the doors. "Or maybe she was at least confident she could manipulate him in to helping her get money out of the company," he looked left and right. "Do you see Lawson's office?"
"Here," Chin pointed to the door on their left.
"So do we still think Chase could've been Lawson's partner in all this?" Danny wondered.
"Willingly or unwillingly? I doubt it," Steve's head shook. "If we can trust anything coming out of Billy's mouth these days, Chase is an upstanding guy," he flicked on the light inside Lawson's office and headed straight for her desk when he spotted the laptop there. But his foot caught on something that stopped him from moving around the desk. "Ah, damn…" he glanced down at the body lying on the floor behind her desk. "Well, Lawson sure isn't going to tell us anything."
Danny and Chin crowded around the desk and spotted the blonde woman lying on the floor, face up, eyes open and staring blankly at the ceiling.
"There's considerable bruising on her neck," Chin immediately noticed, "Looks like she was strangled."
"What exactly are you doing down here?" Beth's voice called out to them from outside the office. "I tried to get ahold of Mr. Myer but his cell is going to voicemail so I think you should leave until he can authorize you to… oh, my God!" the woman exclaimed from behind them when she spotted Lawson's body. "Is she… dead?"
Steve motioned for Danny to escort the receptionist out of Lawson's office. They didn't need her all over their crime scene. He and Chin remained in the room, examining the scene and the body. "Every time we peg someone for involvement in Dugan's murder, they end up dead," Steve noticed.
Chin had to wonder about that fact. "But the way we found Chase was more an admission of guilt than this. It's a little trickier to strangle yourself," he noted.
Crouching beside the woman, Steve carefully pressed two fingers against her wrist, needing to be sure she wasn't breathing. He was mindful to keep his prints off the woman's mangled neck. "I think we can be pretty sure she didn't strangle herself, Chin," he confirmed. "Her body is still warm, she hasn't been here long. Call in Max," he instructed. Trying not to disturb the crime scene too much himself, Steve used the very tips of his fingers to lift the woman's red blouse and search her backside. "No dove symbol."
"Because she's our killer," Danny declared as he reappeared in the doorway. "Beth is pretty upset, but I should question her now while things are fresh in her mind. You two got this covered back here?" he checked to be sure.
"Yep, thanks, Danny," Steve agreed, waving the man off. "Chin we need to find out what's on her computer."
"I should get some gloves first, don't you think," the officer noted.
Feeling rather impatient, Steve continued to scan the office for visible clues. "Danny could be right," Steve said as he spotted something on Lawson's desk. "But even if Lawson is our killer, she was still working with someone," he lifted a framed photo off the desk. There were two people in the picture but it seemed cut off. Steve removed the back of the frame and pulled the picture out. "She folded someone out of this picture," he revealed to Chin, staring at the full image. "Huh… what if her partner in crime was actually a business partner?"
"So you're thinking it was Chase?" Chin didn't quite follow.
"Doubt it," Steve held up the photo for his partner to see. "There were three partners at this firm, Chin. And now there's only one."
000
"His new boat was recently renamed, Haley. That's his daughter's name," Chin said as he and Steve made their way down the wooden dock. "Slip 25."
Steve's slightly longer legs propelled him down the dock swiftly, giving Chin a tough job of staying in step with him. The sun had nearly set, deep shades of fuchsia and vermillion streaking the sky above them. They'd spoken to Beth at length about MLC's three founding partners. And after trying and failing to contact their new number one suspect, they'd finally made their way to his home. Nobody had been there, though, leading them to a second choice of locations to apprehend their suspect.
"It's a fifty-two foot Sea Ray yacht. Used, 2007 model, but still worth close to half a million," Chin relayed the information as he caught up with Steve.
"So it would be big enough for a family of four to live on for a while?" Steve asked.
"Easily," Chin nodded as they approached the slip number that the marina guard had directed them to. "You think he's running?"
"You don't?" Steve replied. The two men starred at the empty slip, water slapping lazily against the dock. "The guard said it was here just a few minutes ago," Steve turned toward the direction of the open ocean. "He can't have gotten very far."
They both ran back up to the main stretch of boardwalk that overlooked the marina. Steve and Chin scanned the wide view that their higher vantage point gave them. There was only one boat inching toward the headwaters and they both noticed it at the same time. "Haley," Chin read the cursive letters on the back of the boat. "That's our guy."
Without wasting a second, Steve rushed past Chin toward the dock. "Call for backup!" he shouted over his shoulder.
"Don't you think you should… wait," Chin said the last word to his self, knowing it was too late for such things. He shook his head, knowing exactly what his partner was about to do. Chin didn't bother trying to stop Steve, dutifully dialing HPD instead. As he waited for the call to patch through he watched Steve sprint to the end of the dock and leap off the edge.
Steve wasn't about to let a pesky thing like a small expanse of water get in the way of catching his criminal. He felt the air beneath him as he launched off the end of the dock. His arms and legs propelled him forward until his feet finally connected with the boat's deck. Steve recovered quickly and drew his weapon. He moved stealthily along the left side of the boat and made his way up a precast stairway that led to the steering cabin.
Thankfully the engine noise, even at 10 knots, had masked Steve's arrival. "Going somewhere?" he finally revealed his presence to the man at the wheel.
Myer was startled and spun around. His hands reflexively shot in to the air as he spotted the gun trained on him. "What the hell…"
"Is your family on this boat?" Steve asked.
The man's head shook instantaneously. "No, they're visiting friends on the big island," Myer revealed. "I was just headed over there to pick them up."
"Sure you were. And then you planned to disappear," Steve accused as he turned the man around and cuffed him.
"I think you've made a mistake," Keith Myer protested.
"And I think we have a few things to discuss," Steve shoved the man in to a nearby seat before taking the wheel and turning the boat around.
000
"I'm still not sure what this is all about," the man cuffed to their metal chair was the first to speak.
"Well, Mr. Myer," Danny stood still as Steve circled their suspect like a shark. "I don't think you're as dumb as you pretend to be."
Myer shifted a little, having sat there for hours in the dark room alone. "Excuse me?"
"It's clear you were ready to run," Steve stated. "HPD found enough supplies on your boat to last weeks. Your wife and kids flew to the big island on the pretense of visiting friends. But you planned to pick them up and take off. That makes you look very guilty," he concluded. "And we know you were working with Lawson on more than just design projects," Steve added. "We found evidence on her computer to support that fact," he watched the man's eyes widen a little. "Even deleted emails can be recovered if you know what you're doing."
"Pretending it was Dugan blackmailing Chase when all along it was you and Lawson after him," Danny shook his head, "That's pretty low."
"You think I had something to do with that?" Keith finally asked. "You don't have any proof."
Steve smiled, loving how guilty asking for proof made the man sound. "Actually," he walked over to the heavy steel door and opened it. Chin was waiting on the other side. "Were you able to get what we needed?" Steve asked.
Chin nodded as he handed over a tablet computer. "Should we keep her?"
"For a while longer," Steve replied. Chin left and Steve returned to the man in the small interrogation room. "It's an interesting thing, how when one ability is taken away from a person the others kick in," he mused as he and Danny shared a look. Steve nodded as he pressed play on the video file Chin had just handed over to him. He showed Myer the screen. "That's you giving a speech at some conference earlier this year, isn't it?" he asked.
"Obviously," Myer shrugged. "So?"
"Do you know a woman named Tara Lee?" Danny asked. He watched as the man's jaw clenched. "Do you? Simple question."
"Maybe we should jog his memory," Steve suggested. He found the second file Chin had for them, a picture of their tattoo artist. "This is Tara Lee," he showed it to Myer. "Pretty girl, although the cobra tattoo is a little bold. Don't get me wrong, I like tattoos. But on a woman I kinda prefer they be a little more subdued. Still, you've gotta give Tara credit for being a brave woman. Even at the risk of losing her shop she told us everything she could about you."
"I don't know her," Keith Myer shook his head.
"Well, she knows you," Danny assured him. "Tara Lee just identified your voice about five minutes ago when our associate showed her that very same video clip of your conference speech." The detective leaned in toward Myer a little to glare at the man. "Has anyone ever told you that you have very lovely green eyes?"
Myer swallowed but didn't crack. "That's it?"
"Oh, no. We also pulled prints off Lawson's neck," Steve added. "And since you served in the Air Force for ten years…" he shrugged. "Your prints were all over Lawson. That's some very sloppy work. You crushed her throat, but you shot Chase and tossed Dugan in the ocean. Why the different methods?"
"I didn't kill Chase or Cathleen!" Myer replied with conviction.
Danny nodded. "That's right; you got Lawson to do all of that for you. She must've really gotten in to it. You know we originally dismissed her as going after Dugan for her job, but she was going after Chase. Wasn't she? She wanted it to just be the two of you at MLC," he didn't wait for Myer to confirm or deny. "I kind of have to give the woman props for her elaborate plan. The whole branding thing was just plain creepy, though."
"Lawson's idea," the man said dismissively.
"That's convenient," Steve tsked. "She's dead. Can't really explain herself now can she?" He sighed, "I suppose it was some sort of couple that brands themselves must really love each other theory? Lawson must have figured she needed a real good hook that would cement Dugan and Chase as lovers. Too bad she didn't know the guy was gay."
Both men noticed the instant surprise on Myer's face upon that revelation. "And getting you to steal that soldering iron was an interesting move," Steve continued. "It had someone else's prints on it so if you wore gloves the prints would just lead us back to Tara Lee. I get it, though. You couldn't really manage to get Dugan and Chase tattooed, especially in public where someone could be an eye witness. The branding was easier to get by us because it could look a little messy, unprofessional."
"Personally, I think I would've gone with old fashioned love letters," Danny shrugged. "Paper cuts are far less painful."
Steve gave up on figuring out the bizarre reasoning behind Lawson's branding detail. He faced Myer, looked the man in the eye. "What I don't get is how you could look me in the eye the other day and tell me you thought of Cathleen like a daughter, yet you had her killed."
"No… no!" the man grew irritated by that insinuation. "I told you that was Lawson, not me. Cathy… she was never meant to be a part of this."
"So you only meant to kill Chase?" Danny asked.
Myer slumped a little against the chair. "No," he sighed. "I didn't want him dead. Honest. We just wanted him… out," Myer finally confessed.
"Keep talking," Steve insisted.
"Fifteen years ago I started that architectural practice with a man who was a very dear friend, Ryan Conner. We served in the Air Force together," Myer revealed to them. "He was the controlling partner because he put up most of the money. But he and I ran the place as partners. We even agreed to hire Chase and Lawson together. But when Ryan died last year he left instructions that the firm should be turned in to a partnership between Lawson, Chase and I. Otherwise his money would've gone to charity and the firm would be history."
Danny could see his answer in Myer's eyes before he even asked, "You didn't like that, did you?"
"You figured it should've all been yours, the company and the money," Steve guessed.
"Yes, of course it should've," Myer took the bait. "I was there from the start."
"So what happened? How did you plan to make it yours?" Steve still needed a lot more answers.
"Melanie Lawson," he spoke her name with accusation. "She convinced me that we could edge Chase out of the firm."
Steve wasn't surprised he was trying to put all the blame on a dead woman. "But you must've figured out pretty quickly that Chase was happy working at MLC, he did it because he enjoyed it. And he was rich so no amount of money could get rid of him."
Myer nodded. "Melanie found out he had a trust fund," he admitted, "So why did he need to work? He was greedy."
"No, you're the greedy one. Martin Chase was a good man," Steve defended. "What did you do to him?" he pressed.
"A few years ago Melanie started to get close to Martin," Keith Myer reluctantly explained. "They became really good friends, worked on several projects together. He told her everything about his life, even about the trust fund and the fact that he was planning to leave all the money to a good friend of his who he'd known since childhood." Myer sighed, "As soon as she found out about the money, Melanie planned to seduce him."
An approving nod came from Danny. "Nice move," he played along. "She gets him to marry her and the money is hers."
"Obviously she didn't know him as well as she thought she did," Steve said. "Chase was never going to marry her."
"We couldn't figure out why he was resisting," Myer continued. "But she got impatient and decided we needed a different plan."
"So you and Lawson set him up to take the fall over some altered structural drawings," Steve concluded. "How many times did you run that scam?"
Myer suddenly kept his mouth shut.
"Long enough to buy a pricey boat," Danny guessed. "We found footage of you taking that new yacht out kind of late on Monday night. And we know Lawson was the one who took the sailboat Friday night. We caught her on a marina camera, too. But points to you for actually reporting it missing. So…" Danny continued to theorize. "She used the boat to dump Dugan, and managed to kept it hidden somewhere until she went after Chase. But how did she get Chase on the boat without anyone knowing? Or without Chase being suspicious?"
It was obvious to Steve that Myer had decided to stop being cooperative for the moment. So he began to tell the man some interesting facts they'd learned about Lawson over the last few hours of digging in to her life. "Melanie Lawson was an excellent swimmer. She won countless meets in high school and college, was a lifeguard all through school. An avid surfer, too. Oh, and she even won a sailing competition with her father as a teenager."
"Here's what I'm thinking went down," Danny put in. "In the course of her trying to set up Chase, Chase and Dugan realized something was wrong. And they set up those cameras in their offices to find the guilty party."
"Chase came to me threatening to go to the police with the video evidence he had on Lawson," Myer finally revealed. "He said he knew it was her because he recognized the shoes she was wearing. Of all things," the man shook his head.
"Never underestimate an observant gay man," Steve quipped.
"So he went to you, not realizing you were in on it with her," Danny could've laughed at the irony if it hadn't all led to the death of two innocent people.
"Which means she had to come up with a plan C," Steve suspected. "Lawson tried to get the video footage from Chase. When that failed, she killed Dugan, thinking she could set up Chase's best friend to take the blame. She even took some incriminating photos of Harrington with an old girlfriend and paid some sap fifteen grand to deliver them to me."
Danny jumped in again, "Which takes us to Sunday morning. Lawson docks the sailboat over at Chase's place and threatens him about Billy. She tears apart his house looking for the camera evidence. Must have been pretty pissed for such a small woman to do that much damage," he noted. "Chase still holds out, even to the point of hiding the SD card in his mouth. But he doesn't contact the police, hoping to keep his friend Billy from facing murder charges."
"Finally Lawson pretends to give up," Steve continued. "She convinces Chase that the picture evidence she has on Harrington is on the boat. But when he gets on the boat she pulls a gun on him and takes him out to sea. She must've held him hostage for nearly a day, hoping he'd give in. Chase never wavered in protecting Billy and Cathleen, though. So she changed tactics again - coerced a confession out of Chase, branded him and shot him. Then left the boat where Dugan had been dumped to complete the guilty looking suicide."
"And you came along to pick her up with your new boat," Danny accused Myer. "You were sure to let her off somewhere close to shore so she could swim back, which left no evidence of her on camera at your marina," he concluded.
"Lawson was a smart woman, and the plan was well thought out," Steve said. "Would've worked, too, if Chase hadn't been such a loyal friend," he admired the man. "But she was ruled by emotion," Steve pulled out the photo he'd been holding in his back pocket. "This was the only bit of personal effect in Lawson's office," he showed it to their suspect.
Myer's jaw clenched again. "That was taken the day she and Chase made partner."
"She folded Chase out of the picture," Steve pointed out as he unfolded the photo and placed the item on Myer's right knee. "She only had the part with you and her in the frame on her desk. Melanie Lawson was in love with you, wasn't she? That's why she did all of your dirty work for you."
"Were you having an affair?" Danny questioned.
"No way," Keith Myer replied with cold fury as he kicked out, causing the picture to fall to the floor. "I love my wife. Melanie was just a gullible means for me to regain my company."
"You knew about her feelings for you, and you just strung her along," Steve realized.
"That's not a crime, is it?" Myer shrugged.
"No," Danny agreed. "But it should be."
"Melanie deserved everything she got, which was nothing. She stepped over a line when she killed Cathleen!" Myer snarled.
Steve nodded. "Because the one person in all of this you actually seemed to care about was Cathleen Dugan," he spoke those words with confidence. "She was within an age to be your daughter, and she served in the military. You even invited her and her mother in to your home for a holiday. So you killed Lawson out of revenge for what she did to Dugan."
"I'm sorry she went after Cathy," the man finally broke down, leaned over in defeat. "I'm so sorry."
"It's too late to be sorry," Steve sighed in disgust.
000
Catherine pushed the office door open, worried about it being unlocked.
Trooper started barking as soon as they entered the space. "What's wrong, girl?" Catherine asked soothingly, reigning in the animal's leash and holding her close to one side. "You've been here before, remember? Steve brought you here the other day. Let's go find Billy," she encouraged the animal. "Do you remember Billy?" At the mention of his name the dog immediately tugged at her leash again and headed straight for the back offices.
The door to Billy's office was also hanging open. Catherine knocked, stepped inside and glanced around. "Billy?"
Not receiving an answer, she moved in further and checked behind his desk. She finally spotted him there on his hands and knees. "Are you okay?" Catherine asked as she watched him stand. He wobbled a little on his feet and sat down in the black leather chair behind the desk. "You look a little pale. Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine," he nodded weakly, "Dropped something. Guess I got a little light headed on my way up," he shrugged off her concern. "Commander McGarrett called me this morning. He told me they solved the case," Billy sat back in his chair, successfully changing the subject. "I can't begin to thank him and Five-0 for their help," he relayed, a far-off look clouding his eyes. "I also received a call from Marty's lawyer this morning. Apparently he left me a small fortune."
"Steve mentioned the money to me," Catherine replied, seeing how shocked Billy seemed by the news. "Does that mean your security business is done before it's even started?"
"No," his head shook. "Not if you're still willing to work with me?" he suddenly looked revived and hopeful. "Catherine, I'm not about to spend the rest of my days lying on the beach and sipping fruity drinks," he conveyed. "I'd give every cent of Marty's money back if it meant he and Cathleen were still alive."
Catherine nodded. "I know how you feel." There was still hesitation in her decision, though. "Billy, why didn't you tell Steve everything you told me about Martin and the money?"
"I'm pretty certain I did," his brow line bunched as he looked her in the eye.
Trooper continued to growl lowly, keeping her gaze fixed on Billy. Her behavior confused Catherine. She'd only had the animal a few days but Catherine had taken her running on the beach, and for walks around town. Not once had the dog growled at anyone they passed. She had to wonder if the dog was picking up something about Billy she couldn't. His words seemed sincere, and she didn't know why Billy would lie to her now when he'd been honest with her before.
"Hello?" a soft feminine voice called out from the main room. A moment later a woman appeared in the doorway. "Billy, we'll be late for our lunch reservation if we don't leave…" her words cut out when she spotted Catherine. "Hello," the woman greeted amiably.
"Hi," Catherine smiled, intrigued by the arrival of Billy's lunch date.
"I'm glad you're both here," Harrington stood and moved around his desk. His left arm circled the woman's waist. "Catherine, this is my friend, An," he introduced, aiming a sweet smile at the woman in his arms. "An, this is Catherine," he continued the introductions. "The best Intel agent I could hope to have working for me. She's also an ex, but I told you all that."
An smiled demurely. "Billy's very honest with me," she extended a welcoming hand to Catherine.
"Nice to meet you, An," Catherine shook her hand.
Catherine's first impression of the woman was that she seemed sweet and somewhat shy. She spoke perfect English, but here was a slight accent inflection which lead Catherine to believe An had been born somewhere in China. She was strikingly beautiful with jet-black hair, dark eyes and a lightly tanned complexion. Seeing how comfortable Billy was with An made Catherine happy, hoping the woman might be someone special to her friend.
"I should get going," Catherine said. "I need to get Trooper home before my lunch break is over. Just because it's my last day doesn't mean I should be slacking," she tugged gently on Trooper's leash, urging the dog to get up. Catherine was nearly out the door when she turned back. "Steve and I are having a little gathering Saturday afternoon in honor of my retirement, just a barbeque and a few friends. The two of you should join us," she invited.
"We'll be there," Billy gladly accepted as she turned back toward the door. "Wait, Catherine… I forgot I have something for you," he let go of An and returned to his desk. Billy grabbed a silver key from the top drawer. "Here, I had a copy of the office key made for you," he handed it over.
Catherine realized she hadn't exactly answered him when he'd asked if she was still willing to work with him. But she took the key. "This will come in handy if you ever decide to actually start locking the doors around here," she teased.
He nodded good-naturedly. "I deserve that."
She smiled, but still left the office feeling slightly troubled by her encounter with him.
000
"Let me get this straight, the one time you actually offered to step up and pay for something, and Catherine didn't let you?" Danny questioned.
Steve shrugged as he glanced down at the file on his desk. After a few hours of sleep and a quick shower, Steve had returned to Five-0 HQ. And he and Danny had been working on the paperwork for Myer and Lawson's case all afternoon. "Is there something wrong with letting a woman pay for things?" he challenged.
"Not at all. I just figured Catherine was smarter than that," Danny joked.
"Tell me the truth," Steve closed the file in front of him. "Is there some conversation we should've had about it?"
"Yes, Mr. Know-it-all," Danny snapped. "I do believe the topic, partners paying for household items, was one whole chapter in the book I gave you," he laughed softly. "But you'd know that if you'd actually been reading it. What'd you do, take it home and use it as a door stop?"
"Cute, Danny," Steve replied, picking up the file and making his way out of the office. "I'm glad you enjoy making fun of me. For your information, the book got placed on a shelf behind my dad's old desk in the study."
Danny followed his partner to the main room. "I take that to mean you and Catherine haven't been using it?"
"I told you before, I can communicate with Catherine just fine on my own," Steve insisted.
"Good, great. Go it alone," Danny shrugged indifferently. "Don't tell her you love her, live in sin… makes no difference to me. But it would've at least been nice to say thanks. Thank you for the thoughtful gift, Danny. You're welcome, Steve," he carried on the conversation by himself.
Steve turned to his friend. "Thank you for the gift, Danny," he indulgently repeated.
"Nah. See, it's too late now. The moment passed," Danny waved him off. "Doesn't count if I have to pry it out of you."
Chin came around the corner from his office and met them at the computer. "I just got off the phone with HPD," he announced.
"And judging by the forehead creases, I'm thinking it wasn't a good call?" Steve ventured.
"Depends on how you look at things," Chin replied. "Keith Myer died this morning before they could transfer him to a long-term facility. Duke found him in his cell, thought he was just sleeping. Turns out he suffered a massive heart attack. Died quickly."
Danny's hands pressed against the table. "I guess the stress of it all killed him."
The only ounce of sorrow Steve felt over the man's death was for his wife and children. "That'll save the tax payers some money, no trial or three squares a day," Steve quickly put the man out of his head. He dropped the file on the table. "We're done on our end," he announced. "And I have a bed delivery arriving sometime between 2 and 4pm this afternoon. Which means I get to wait around the house with Trooper until about 5pm, which is when they'll actually show up," Steve guessed. "You two going to be at Catherine's ceremony tonight?"
"Wouldn't miss it," Chin responded with a smile.
Danny nodded. "See you there."
000
He stood in his boxer-briefs, staring at the new bed. "Don't even think about it," Steve warned the canine beside him.
Trooper cocked her head to the right, both ears flattened against her head. She whined softly, looking up at him.
"This is a brand new bed, my friend," Steve shook his head at her. "Catherine gets to be the first one on it. And she'll decide who gets to crawl up there with her tonight. No offence, but I'm pretty confident that's gonna be me," he nodded. Steve smiled to hear the dog whine again. "Oh, please, we both know she'll let you on the bed. Just not until later tonight. Much, much later," Steve spoke with a gentle warning tone.
Looking around the room, Steve noticed all the personal touches added by Catherine's presence in the house. A new bed was the largest of those changes, but there was also a small jar of Tahitian vanilla body lotion on the right-hand side nightstand; her nightstand. And a silky lavender bathrobe hung on a hook by the door. Then there was Catherine's record player, which now resided in the far left corner of the room, furthest spot from the door. He'd been sure to locate it upstairs, per her wishes, in case anyone broke in.
Steve didn't have the heart to tell her that no one breaking in was taking that ancient contraption.
The door to the bathroom opened and she stepped in the room. Catherine immediately noticed the odd way he was standing at the foot of the bed, seemingly afraid to touch it.
His head turned - ready to be wowed by whatever attire she'd planned for their first night together in the new bed. Instead he frowned to see she was wearing a large fluffy white bathrobe. "Is that really what you're planning to wear to bed?" Steve's brows arched even as she walked toward him. "This is something you own, willingly?"
She was still stuck on her previous thought about him staring at the bed. "You said you were okay with this," Catherine pointed out.
"I agreed to you sleeping in a fluffy robe?" his head shook vigorously. "I don't think so. Who even wears that in Hawaii? It's like eighty degrees here all the time."
"I was talking about the bed," Catherine waved a hand at the item. "A second ago I caught you looking at it like you missed the old one."
Steve shrugged. "I did have that beauty since I was twelve."
"I always assumed the brass bed had been your parent's," she replied, a little surprised.
"Nope," Steve said as he tried to get close to her despite the thick robe. "I was twelve the first time my dad took me to a firing range. He didn't actually let me shoot until a year later, but I remember picking up the brass casings from the bullets. So when I had a huge growth spurt the next month and outgrew my kid bed, I picked out that brass bed. Though it was very cool to have a whole bed made out of bullet casings," he recalled. "I have some good memories of that bed as a teenager, a lot of solo practice sessions."
"Thanks for not sharing that teenaged boy information with me until the bed was gone." She kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry, though. I didn't realize what that bed meant to you."
He smiled, draping his arms over her shoulders and stroking the soft hairs at the back of her neck, still mystified by the robe she was wearing. "You mean more to me than any bed," his words somewhat echoed the ones she'd spoken to him about her stuff. "Although, we had plenty of nice times together in that bed," Steve reminded her. "It's much better to have a partner for such things," he grinned. "Are you saying you don't appreciate all of my practice years?"
"Oh, I appreciate them," she agreed, somewhat distracted by his roaming hands which had gone to the sash at her waist. Catherine side-stepped him and cinched the robe a little tighter. She squatted in front of Trooper and gave the dog some love. "Go to your bed downstairs, Trooper," Catherine instructed.
Steve was impressed when the dog left their room upon her command.
"If I tell you something," Catherine turned her attention back to Steve as she went to sit down on the bed. "Will you promise not to laugh?"
"I'd never laugh at you," Steve agreed as he joined her. He stood in front of her, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind her left ear. "Are you about to tell me about your teenaged practice sessions?" he waggled his brow.
She softly kicked him away and reclined against the bed, "Never mind." Catherine flipped on to her belly and rested against the pillow, head turned away from him.
"Hey, I was just kidding," Steve climbed over her and settled down beside her. "I'm sorry, Cath," he could tell she'd obviously been trying to say something serious. "I'll behave, promise. Tell me what's up?" He watched her eyes roll before he realized what he'd said wrong. Steve curled up closer, his chest pressed against her side. He looked her in the eye, a hand slowly caressing her robe covered arm. "I swear the word up was not meant to be a sexual innuendo. Although, I should point out that you're the one who took it that way."
Catherine actually chuckled a little at that. "It's kind of silly," she breathed out, turning on to her side to face him. "Earlier today, before my ceremony, I was in the locker room and ended up crying over packing up and putting my uniform away," she confessed.
Those words struck him, always surprised when her tough exterior revealed a crack. "Told you it wouldn't be an easy transition," he sympathized. "Of course I never cried over my uniform, but you should cut yourself some slack, Catherine. You joined up when you were still just a kid, and you were a Navy brat before that. It's the only life you've ever known. But you're going to be fine on the outside," Steve assured her. "You already have a job and a place to live."
The mention of her job brought Harrington to mind. "Did you notice Billy wasn't at my ceremony tonight after he said he would be?" Catherine asked. "And this afternoon at his office he was kind of out of it for a moment, disoriented. Maybe it's just grief."
Steve sighed, "He's not a topic I want to be thinking about right now."
She nodded. "You're right, no more talk about Billy tonight. And you're right about moving forward. I should stop being such a wimp and suck it up."
"You're about the least wimpy person I know, Catherine," Steve assured. He pointed a finger at her. "But you said up," he grinned.
"And you are in a very flirty mood tonight," Catherine chuckled. "I like it."
Steve reclined on his back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "I'm kinda bummed I can't sing Bob Dylan's Lay Lady Lay to you now that my big brass bed is gone."
A bark of laughter escaped her lips, thoughts of Billy completely forgotten as she rested her chin against Steve's chest. "You never sang that to me," Catherine replied.
"The point is I could've," he spoke with a distinctly unserious tone. "And now I can't," Steve pouted.
With slow, deliberate moves, Catherine transitioned to a kneeling position on the bed. She took hold of his hand and pulled him upward to join her. Catherine directed him to take hold of the fluffy sash at her waist. "Maybe I could help ease your grief over the loss of your bed," she offered.
"Oh, yeah?" his curiosity returned, hands resting on the sash. "It might take a lot of easing," Steve whispered as he untied the robe and carefully peeled it off her shoulders.
Catherine only allowed the robe to dip past her shoulders a few inches, revealing mostly bare skin but also two dark green spaghetti straps. Seeing the way his tongue was nearly hanging out of his mouth, she finally put him out of his misery and removed the rest of the bathrobe. It was tossed to the floor without a second thought. "For our first night in the new bed, I decided to wear the gift you bought for me."
"You mean the gift I bought for the bed," Steve corrected her as his hands reached out to caress the silky camouflage negligée.
"Do you think the bed will like it?" she played along, clasping her hands behind his neck, knowing for certain he'd bought the camo lingerie for his benefit alone.
He nodded, kissing her left shoulder and then her right. "The bed and I approve," Steve said, his lips moving toward the vast depth of cleavage the gown revealed. "But I don't think the bed is going to see much of it, because I don't think it's going to stay on long."
"That a promise?" Catherine asked, her voice thick with anticipation.
Steve pulled away and chastely kissed her cheek before getting out of bed.
He smiled to see the disappointment flicker in her eyes as he walked across the room. Steve squatted in front of the record player and found her new Chicago album propped against the machine. He pulled the vinyl from its sleeve and gently set it on the turntable. When the needle made contact with vinyl, a hiss of static crackled through the air for a moment before the music began. The first notes of the song began to drift across the room as he lowered the lights.
As he moved toward her again, purposely slow, the song continued to play… "Life is lovely, when you're near me… tell me you will stay, and make me smile…"
With a mixture of awe and amusement, Catherine remained kneeling on the bed as she watched Steve's lips move in time with some of the lyrics to her favorite song. "I never knew your singing voice sounded so much like Terry Kath," she teased him, her big smile letting him know just how glad she was to be near him.
He reached for her and gently pulled the camo negligee over her head. Steve flung it to join her robe on the floor. Then he lovingly laid her down on the bed. "One of the many things you'll learn about me," Steve teased, hovering above her as he softly kissed her lips.
"That so?" she asked with barely restrained composure. Catherine stared up at him, "There's something different about you tonight." She could see the desire in his eyes, but there was more. Something she didn't think she'd ever seen before.
"I'm just really happy right now, Catherine," he was surprised by how easily the words came to him. Steve couldn't even recall the last time he'd been so content with his life. And he attributed most of it to her presence. "We finally solved our case, which means there's no crazy stalker after you," he sighed with relief. "And I'm about to get lucky with the prettiest retired Navy lieutenant on the planet. So what's not to be happy about?"
She grinned, using both hands to free him from the last burden of clothing separating them. His boxer-briefs joined her gown and robe. Catherine wrapped one leg around his back, gently digging in her heel to draw him closer. "Show me how happy you are," she enticed.
Blue eyes gazed in to brown. "Welcome home, Catherine," he whispered before their bodies joined.
000
Saturday afternoon yielded clear skies and plenty of sunshine.
From her vantage point on the back lanai, Trooper curled at her feet, Catherine took time to enjoy the people who'd gathered on her behalf. Chin had brought along his friend, Leilani, who they all liked a lot. Not that Chin needed their approval, but he certainly had it. Kamekona was there with his cousin Flipper. They'd arrived with a shrimp feast to go with the steaks Steve was grilling. Max and Sabrina stood closer to the water, chatting with Danny.
Catherine selfishly wished Kono could be there, though not so much to share her retirement. But because she missed her friend. What she'd told Steve held true, making friends was not something that came easily for her. And she'd just been getting to know Kono better before the woman had left.
"Hi, Catherine," Grace's sweet voice was accompanied by an equally bright smile. The girl plunked down in a wicker chair beside Catherine. She sat her colorful beach bag on the ground and gave Trooper an affectionate pat. "I'm sorry I didn't get to see you retire yesterday," Grace said, looking to Catherine again. "I hope Danno told you why. I was cheering for our basketball team and we won," she grinned.
"That's great, kiddo," Catherine smiled, "Much better than watching a stuffy military ceremony." She smoothed a hand along Grace's silky dark hair. "I'm glad you could be here today."
"Me, too," the young woman smiled again. "I'm glad you get to stay on the island all the time now, and I can see you every time we visit Uncle Steve," Grace pointed out. "Or if I just want to visit you," she reached over and grabbed something out of her bag. "This is for you," Grace said as she passed the large rectangular wrapped gift to her friend.
"Grace, we said no gifts," Catherine reminded, though she was very touched by the gesture.
The girl nodded. "I know, but it wasn't an expensive gift. Do you remember last year when you took me and my Aloha Girl troop on that tour of your ship, the Enterprise?" Grace watched Catherine nod. "I thought you might miss it now that you're retired. So I made this for you. Open it," she encouraged.
Catherine happily tore off the blue cloud wrapping paper and revealed a framed photograph of the Enterprise. The smile that lit her face was one born of fond memories. "This is perfect, sweetheart. Thank you so much."
Grace looked to her friend and could see the tear rolling down Catherine's face. "I didn't mean to make you cry."
"Only happy tears, kiddo," Catherine quickly assured the girl, swiping away her tear.
Steve came up behind them and leaned against the back of Catherine's chair. He reached over and tousled Grace's hair. "What's going on, ladies?" Steve spied the picture on Catherine's lap. "That's great. You do that, Grace?" he flashed a smile at the girl.
"Yep, Uncle Steve," Grace beamed proudly. She got down on the ground to pet Trooper again. "Does Trooper know any tricks?" she asked Catherine.
"I've taught her a few things," Catherine replied. "She picked up the sit and stay commands real quick. And there's something special I just started working on with her."
"What is it?" Grace asked.
"Can't say," Catherine leaned forward a little. "It's a surprise," she kept her voice low.
The girl inched closer and spoke softly so only Catherine could hear her. "For Uncle Steve?"
"Yep," Catherine confirmed.
"Cool," Grace smiled again. She noticed the stick Trooper was protectively pressing both paws against. Grace grasped the stick and waved it in front of the dog. Trooper immediately came to life, jumping up and following the stick with her eyes. Grace finally tossed the stick, and she and the dog both chased after it.
With his hands still resting against her chair, Steve leaned in and kissed the side of Catherine's neck. "Steaks will be ready soon and we can eat," he whispered in her ear.
"You're such a romantic," Catherine chuckled, turning to look up at him. "Seriously, thank you for this. You're too good to me. I feel like a queen."
"I am too good to you," he winked, kissed her again and then pushed off from the chair. "I'm going to grab the salad from the fridge, my queen," Steve teased. "You stay and enjoy your day." He took off for the house, slipping in the back door just as a loud knock came from the front door. Steve cut through the living room and answered the door straight away, finding Billy on his doorstep with a woman. "Harrington," Steve's greeting was lukewarm.
He was a little irked that the man had forgotten Catherine's ceremony, but managed to show up for the party.
"Catherine invited me," Billy said.
With a slow nod, Steve did his best to be civil. "She told me," he finally replied. "You brought a friend," Steve recalled Billy telling him he was seeing someone. And now he could see she was not too far off the pattern of women Billy seemed to like, dark hair and eyes.
"This is An Zhou," Billy introduced the woman with him.
"Nice to meet you," Steve's welcome was warmer for her. "Everyone is out back," he let them know. "And there are drinks in the kitchen, which is off to your right. Help yourselves."
"Thank you," An smiled.
"Thanks," Billy took her hand and was about to set off. "Oh, I almost forgot about this," he handed Steve a white envelope. "It was on your doorstep when we arrived," Harrington shrugged, "I figured it was a card for Catherine that someone dropped, but then I noticed your name on it."
Steve's mostly good mood shattered upon seeing the white envelope. The addition of his name was new, written with thick, blocky hand letting. He did his best to hide the trepidation he was feeling. "Thanks, I'll see you out back in a few," he waited until Billy and his date were out of sight before he carefully slid a finger along the underside of the envelope flap and pried it open. The pictures that greeted him were similar to the previous ones he'd been sent. Same size and amateurish quality.
There were five pictures in total, all images of Catherine on the beach with Trooper. Catherine tossing a stick for Trooper to retrieve from the water. Catherine sitting in the sand with Trooper curled up close. Catherine receiving a sloppy lick on the cheek from Trooper. "Son of a…" Steve grumbled as he continued to flip through the stack.
"Hey, Steve," Danny called out from across the room. "I think your steaks need tending out on the grill, and Catherine said not to touch them because that was your kingly domain," he slapped his partner on the shoulder. "Oh, and I just passed Billy as he was walking out to the backyard," Danny glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one could overhear them. "I see he brought a date. An. That's a good thing, right? Not a Catherine or a Cathleen, just An. Means he's a liar, but probably not a threat to Catherine."
"Maybe not him," Steve replied stoically. "But someone is still after her, Danny," he handed over the photographs.
"Ah, crap," Danny concluded upon viewing the very first image.
"Those are just from this morning," Steve further explained. "Catherine and I took Trooper for a run. Afterwards I had to get showered and changed so I could go to the store for the steaks, but Catherine must have stayed on the beach with the dog for a while. And these pictures were left on the doorstep. Meaning someone was here, close to our home, twice."
"Lawson and Myer are dead," Danny reminded them both. "So who the heck could be doing this?"
"I don't know, Danny," Steve sighed. "That's what scares me," he finally admitted fear. "I can't control what I don't know."
To be continued…