Thanks so much for the reviews, alerts, and just plain reading, and I really hope to hear from you again.

This isn't as long as the last chapter, and not a lot happens, but I hope you enjoy this.

I'd better go, I own nothing, and catch ya in chapter eight...

Bye...

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Danny…

Marla Oliver was twenty-nine years old. She had two girls, nine and six, and lived in a small house in an even smaller suburban neighborhood. She had a decent job, had a decent life, and by all outer appearances was completely normal. And her rotten bastard of an ex-boyfriend left her in the trunk to die.

I stood outside the crime scene, wishing the Tylenol I took this morning would hurry up and start helping my headache. Steve had been on his phone since we found Marla, pacing back and forth more and more with each call. He ran a hand through his hair and said, "Alright, we'll check it out." He hung up and wandered over to me. "So, Chin's heading back to HPD, see if he can come up with anymore info on T'ak."

"Okay," I said nodding. "So, what are we checking out?"

"T'ak's boss told Kono that he might be hanging around his brother's place," Steve replied glancing over at the forensics guys. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight. "I don't get it. Why kidnap her if he was just gonna kill her?"

"Maybe it was one of those 'if I can't have you no one can' type things," I suggested shrugging.

"Maybe," Steve silently agreed. He then took a breath and said, "Kono's on her way over to Marla's house to tell her husband and daughters."

I chuckled humorlessly and shook my head. "Just another family ripped apart by worthless scum," I muttered, walking toward my car.

The car ride to T'ak's brother's place was completely silent, only to be broken when my phone went off. Steve gave me a curious look when I took it from my pocket. The name that flashed back at me had my stomach clenching in worry.

"Hello?" I answered tentatively.

"Mr. Williams, this is Nurse Hale from Grace's school." Several scenarios flashed through my head. Maybe Grace had completely lost it and had a meltdown in the middle of a lesson. Maybe she was faking a stomach ache because she didn't want to be there. Or, heaven forbid, she pulled a McGarrett and started punching people.

Okay, the last scenario was very unlikely, but at the time I was close to panicking and it seemed likely. I mean she had been hanging around McGarrett a lot over the past week, his bad habits could have rubbed off on her. I, however, wasn't going to be sure what happened unless the nurse told me. So, I took a breath and asked, "What can I do for you?"

"I was just calling to inform you that hearing and eye exams are occurring this week," the nurse replied sounding bored. Obviously, with Grace's last name starting with a W, she had made the call several times. I wondered why they didn't just record the message and call several parents at once, (I mean with six-thousand a student they should be able to dish out a answering service) but decided not to really dwell on it.

"Okay," I responded feeling my stomach unknot.

"Good-bye." And she hung up, leaving behind the annoying drone of the dial tone. I ended the connection, putting my phone back in my pocket.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked clearly as worried as I had just been.

"Nothing, the school's just doing hearing and eye tests," I responded running a hand down my face.

"Good because I thought…" McGarrett trailed off.

"Yeah, me too," I replied nodding…

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T'ak's brother lived above the surf shop he owned. When we stepped inside, the tiny bell jingling above us, he had looked up from waxing a board. He gave us a smile when he spotted us and said, "Welcome to T'ak's Boards. What can I…?" he trailed off when Steve and I showed our badges.

"I'm Commander Steve McGarrett, this is my partner Detective Danny Williams," McGarrett said putting his badge away.

"Not even out of jail two weeks and…" Robert T'ak shook his head, a frown on his face. "What did Pete do?"

"He's a suspect in a murder case," I said grimly.

"Murder? Who did he murder?" Robert gave us look that was a cross between confusion, worry, and surprise. He obviously hadn't thought his brother would do something that drastic. In a way, I kinda knew where his head was. I never thought Matthew would do what he did, either.

"Marla Oliver," Steve deadpanned meeting Robert's dark eyes.

"Marla…?" it took a second, but realization finally dawned on Robert who Marla Oliver was. "You mean, Marla Ray?" he ran a hand down his face, leaning against the counter, swearing.

"Do you know where your brother is?" I asked after a few seconds of silence.

"I haven't seen Petey since he was released. I got him a job working for my friend in construction." He took a breath, "Should have known he'd try something, how he kept asking about Marla. But I didn't…" he trailed off, running hand through his hair. "Whatever you need, I'll give it to you."

"We've got a guy trying to track down where your brother might hang out, but if you could give us a list…" I trailed off, Robert T'ak nodding.

"Um, I'm not sure if he still goes here." He grabbed a scrap of paper from under the counter and a pen, placing the former on the surfboard he had abandoned. He scribbled an address handing it to Steve. "It's an old rec center. He and his friends used to go there before he was arrested."

"Thanks," Steve said pocketing the address. We turned to leave, but Robert called us back.

"Don't let him near Hailey," he said slowly.

"Who's Hailey?" Steve and I said together. Oh God, please don't let that become a regular thing.

"Hailey is Marla's oldest daughter. She's partially the reason Peter was sent to jail," Robert said.

"Why's that?" I asked turning to look at him.

"Because he tried to kidnap Hailey from her mother," Robert responded darkly. "Hailey's Pete's daughter…"

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2004

I had been working late. A child had been taken by her father when the mother attempted to get a restraining order against him. He was a bastard, having hit both the mother and the girl on several occasions, and we were working like crazy to get her back.

Of course, when we managed to track the man down we were too late. He had killed the little girl and himself. It was hard to tell the mother her daughter was dead. And I would never forget the look on her face.

I finished up the paperwork on the case, slipping it into my filing cabinet. As I turned to get my jacket, I spotted a photo of Grace, Rachel, and me. It was from Grace's second birthday, she had cake all over her face. I dared not bring myself to think about what I would have done if it had been Grace.

When I got home, Rachel was still up. She had been sorting through boxes, unpacking from the move, but stopped when she spotted me.

"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. My mother always said my eyes were easier to read than a book.

"I, um, I had to tell a mother her daughter died," I responded hoarsely hanging my gun up. I kicked my shoes off and headed into the kitchen. I heard Rachel drag herself to her feet, quickly following me. I sat heavily at the table, running a hand down my face.

She put her arms around me, giving me a squeeze. I grabbed her hand with mine and squeezed back. "Would you like me to get Grace?" she whispered in my ear. I shook my head, telling her it was too late to wake her up.

I had no idea how long we sat like that, but finally she pecked me on the cheek and straightened. "You coming to bed?"

"In a minute," I responded and listened to her walk away. I waited until our bedroom door closed before getting to my feet. I wandered down the hallway, quietly opening Gracie's bedroom door. She was asleep in her little bed, after having taken a few months to adjust to a big girl bed. I crept over to her, stopping next to her sleeping form.

I ran a hand through her hair and said, "Danno will always be there, Monkey…"

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Present Day…

Steve…

I remembered the old rec center from when I was a kid. When I was a Boy Scout, we used to help out there a lot on the weekend, mostly with the littler kids, and usually for only an hour or two. It was a nice place, kept kids out of trouble, and it was a waste what had happened to it.

The big red doors were still standing, splattered with graffiti. A few of the windows had been recently knocked out, while another couple had been boarded up. The old basketball court's chain link fence had been torn apart in some areas, the hoops were net less, and one had been knocked down entirely. Like I said: a waste.

"I hated seeing places like these in Jersey," Danny commented looking up at the building. "It was just a reminder of what was and what could be."

"Yeah," I quietly agreed before opening my car door.

We headed toward the building, keeping our eyes peeled for any surprises. I took point, creeping up the steps as I removed my Sig. Danny flanked me, his own Sig held between his hands. I nodded to him once and pushed the door open.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but the stale odor of an abandoned building met me. I peeked my head inside, noticing an old pool table sitting in the middle of the next room, a pool cue still sitting on the felt top.

"I don't think anybody's here," Danny said stepping up next to me.

"Let's be sure," I responded and continued inside. I'm not sure if it was SEAL intuition, or just being a cop's son, but I had a feeling we were going to find something.

I could almost hear Danny's eyes roll as he followed me. I motioned him to head left while I continued into the game room. Other than the old pool table, there was also a broken Pac-Man machine and a foosball table minus the players.

"I still think you lied about The Triple Banana level, Danno," I commented when I heard him approach. That is, I thought it was him until I attempted to turn. That's when something blind-sided me, sending me to the floor.

Stunned, I heard my gun clatter to the floor. A second later it was kicked, skidding away from my reach. As my vision began to clear, I had enough time to roll out of the way as a pool cue came swinging at me, again.

I sprung to my feet, grabbing the cue as it flew at me a third time. Using the guy's few second of surprise against him, I was able to wrench the cue from his hands. I tossed it aside, preparing for a fight.

He threw an uppercut at my face, but I managed to easily deflect it by stepping forward and pivoting around him. As his fist flew past me I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. I kicked the back of his left knee, sending him to the floor.

"What the hell," Danny called sprinting around the corner, gun in hand, only to skid to a halt at the sight. "Who's that?" he asked glancing down at the man.

"Just about to ask him," I said wiping blood from my face with my free hand. As the adrenaline started to wane, I was beginning to feel the stinging pain from the pool cue. I tugged harder on the guy's arm, getting a grunt of pain, and said, "Who are you?"

"None ya damn business, asshole," the guy growled.

"Wrong answer," I snapped pulling harder on his arm, almost feeling the strain I was putting on the bone. The guy grunted again. "Who are you?"

"Grant Lee," he spat when I gave his arm one final tug, wincing at the pain.

"Congratulations, Lee, you just booked yourself a one way ticket to HPD," I said in his ear. I then looked at Danny and said, grinning when he threw me a glare, "Book 'em Danno."