by Sammie
All notes in first part.
To my non-logged-in reviewers: thank you for taking the time to read and to review. It means a lot to writers to get reviews. :-)
Kono shows up a lot because (1) she's my favorite character :-) and (2) she (and Chin) doesn't get anywhere near the storylines Steve and Danny get on the show.
As for Steve's ineptness - while the "modern" man's supposed to be good with children, I find it a little, well, dishonest. Some men and some women just aren't that great with small children - they love them and enjoy them but just don't seem to remember what it was like to be that age. I found Steve's earlier incompetence (with the little girl asking if they were cops, and the boy with the hippo innertube) just hilarious, which is why it shows up here. He clearly likes Billie, he just doesn't know what to do with her. :-D
"Smells good," Danny commented as he and Steve came into the office to find bags of food spread out by the tabletop computer. "I'm starved. What're we having?"
"We picked up loco moco on the way back. There are some side dishes, too," Chin said as he came out of his office. "Hope you guys don't mind."
"Right now food in general just sounds good," Steve replied. "Can I have this plate?" He reached down for a small plastic plate sitting in front of the panda, which sat on its owner's left. Billie made a noise of protest.
"Nope. That's for the panda," Kono replied with a straight face as she contined to flip through the pages of evidence she was reading.
"The panda," Steve said in disbelief.
"Pandas have to eat," Chin said in a serious tone, the only evidence of his amusement the twinkle in his eye as he grabbed his chair.
"Pandas don't eat loco moco," Steve groused as he helped himself to his own plate and settled into a chair.
"Did you guys get anything?" Kono asked finally, setting her file aside to exchange it for her plate.
"Fong got us the surveillance video for HPD the day Billie was threatened, accompanied by a list of people who signed in to HPD," Danny said around his food. "We found a name which matches the one on Holden's notepad - Bruce Lonoehu." He swallowed. "Lonoehu spelled with L-O-N," he continued, looking at Chin. "Just like your notepad."
"Who is he?" Kono asked.
"Chief financial officer of the Hawaiian National Bank," Chin replied stonily, as Kono gave a low whistle. "Holden tangled with some bigshots." He paused. "Why was Lonoehu even at HPD?"
"Supposedly to drop papers off," Steve replied.
"Odd thing, sending a CFO to do a mail delivery," Kono commented.
"Agreed," Steve replied. "You two - question him right after lunch."
Kono nodded, then asked, "What about the rest of the Holden house?"
"Charlie said the crime scene unit went through everything. In the bedroom, there weren't any unknown fingerprints - just Travis Holden's, Billie's, or his wife's."
"How'd we get his wife's fingerprints?" Chin asked.
"Apparently Livy Holden's on record with the FBI," Steve explained with a grin. "She had to get security clearance for some of her reporting."
"So no fingerprints in the bedroom except theirs. That just means our killers were good," Kono thought aloud.
"A fragment of a fingerprint on the Gucci symbol - not enough for any match, and no fingerprints on Holden himself," Danny finished.
"DNA matches yet?"
"Not on the blood on his knuckles."
"So Lonoehu's our only lead."
"Our only good one, for now." Steve nodded. "What did you find on him?"
"Kono and I put in requests for info after you called, and that stuff's still coming. We just have some basics. Bruce Lonoehu, CFO of Hawaii National Bank." Chin clicked the photo up. "Native of the islands, been here for years. No record."
"Anything shady?"
"Nothing shady, either," Kono said. "Married. Two kids, one in high school, one at University of Hawaii - Manoa. Lonoehu's been with the bank since high school, worked his way up. Ethical. Nothing in his financial records."
"So not likely our killer," Danny muttered.
"Except we know the Hawaiian Bank was corresponding with Holden." Kono held up the papers. "Each fax sent over has a pile of - nothing papers. Information on random things. But in each fax, there are pages missing from the overall amount on the cover sheet."
"Where are the sheets?"
"That's where we don't know. We combed his office, every inch. We even tore up the carpet," Chin replied. "His boss wasn't too happy about that."
"The thing is," Kono put in, "the missing pages don't appear to affect the document itself. When you read the document, nothing's missing." She held up one fax. "Look. Page 3 here. This last line flows right into the text on page 7 here."
"There's no break in the content," Steve murmured. "But there are three pages missing in between, according to the fax's page numbering."
"Whoever's faxing the information over is hiding the information among the pages," Danny concluded.
"We got to find those sheets," Steve muttered.
"Perhaps this is our guy." Danny tossed his now empty plate in the trash. As he came back, he looked over Billie's shoulder. "Is that us?" he asked, crouching down so their faces were on the same level.
"Uh-huh." The little girl beamed, and held up the picture.
"Hm, you drew on Uncle Steve's commendation letter from the governor. Appropriate. Is that Uncle Chin with the big smile?" Billie nodded proudly. "And that's Auntie Kono?" The little girl nodded. "And I like the tie you drew me. Who's that with the frowny face?"
"Uncle Steve."
Kono and Chin ducked their heads down to hide their smiles as Danny smirked at the - case in point - frowning Steve. "That's pretty accurate," Danny said with a straight face, and Billie beamed. Steve glared some more. "Kiddo, you got marker all over you." He held up the child's hands and then her left arm, following the random swipes of blue all the way up.
Danny paused, then frowned. He cocked his head to the side, then pushed up the child's sleeve. "Kono."
"What?" She looked up from her food.
Danny turned the child to show her the large, blue, clumsily drawn flower on her left upper arm. The woman's eyes went wide, and Danny could have sworn he heard an un-adult-like squeak (if anybody would dare to suggest that Kono Kalakaua might squeak).
In one swift movement, she had Billie out of her seat; the child ran alongside the woman, struggling to keep up with the cop's long strides. "But why's can't I keep de fower?" she begged. "I wants a fwower on my awm."
"If your Mommie says you can have one, then you can draw one on later. Right now, Auntie Kono says no flowers anywhere."
"But Uncle Steve has one!" came the plaintive protest as the two disappeared out of the office bullpen. "He said-ed he gots a blue flower picture on his arm!"
As the sound of the upset tot's protests dissipated, the two men turned to Steve, looking intently at him. "Let's see that macho flower tat," Danny intoned with a smirk.
"Hey. Sorry to call you in last minute." Charlie looked agitated, pacing his lab nervously as the twou cousins entered. "I wanted to make sure 5-0 got this right away."
"No problem," Kono replied, sliding her hands into her jeans pockets. "What's going on?"
Charlie turned and picked up the bottle of contact lens solution. "You know this?"
"The bottle we found in Holden's office. The container has got cleanser for gas permeable lens, when Holden wore soft," Chin recited. "You were going to lift a name for us."
Charlie turned to his computer, where he brought up the image of the label. It had a Century Square pharmacy label with the letters "onoehu, Bru".
Chin and Kono exchanged looks.
At the sound of feet shuffling yet again, Steve looked down next to him. Billie was standing - or rather, attempting to - next to Danny. She had been hopping with anticipation and couldn't hold still, and so now she had been relegated to standing by Danny, her right hand securely in the detective's left. She spoke quietly to herself, not at all perturbed to have no listeners, commenting on the different things that came into view.
Steve looked at his watch. The announcement for the arriving American Airlines flight had sounded several minutes ago, but nobody had appeared yet.
"Here we go," Danny said after a few minutes.
Despite having looked at photos of Olivia Holden to make sure to identify her correctly, none were needed. "Mommie!" Billie came alive, starting to pull impatiently at Danny's hand.
"Stay still," Danny instructed. Both men scanned the area, eyes going back and forth. Billie instantly quieted, but Steve could feel her excitement radiating off of her.
"Mommie!"
This time, the woman in question came back in view, coming through the turnstile, and as soon as she was free and clear, Danny let the little girl go. She ran at top speed, bouncing up and down and not really running with a solid gait; her face was shining, her pigtails bobbing up and down. The woman let go of her rolling carry-on and wrapped up her daughter in her arms, giving her a big kiss. Billie was beaming and chattering away, clearly delighted to see her mother.
"I see your smile," Danny intoned to his partner. Both men stood, arms crossed, not looking at each other but watching Billie and her mother several feet away.
"I'm not smiling."
"You are so smiling."
"This is not a smile."
"I even see teeth."
Steve clamped his mouth shut.
"Hi. We're looking for Mr. Lonoehu."
"I'm sorry, but you'll need an appointment," the secretary apologized.
"Oh, I've got one." Kono, smiling sweetly, took out her badge and set it on the desk; she then slid it across the secretary's desk with her index finger.
"Right that way, third floor," the secretary indicated. "There's a directory in the elevator."
Chin and Kono crossed the floor of the bank and took the elevator up. They read the name off the directory, then headed for the CFO's office. Chin glanced at his cousin, then knocked.
"I'm sorry, but I'm booked today," Lonoehu's voice boomed from inside.
Chin opened the door anyhow, to find the CFO at his desk. He was a tall Hawaiian man, on the heavy side; he still had a full head of hair. He wore a light-colored suit with a blue shirt and a tie. Across the desk from him sat a tall, wiry white man. "Mr. Lonoehu?"
"Yes," he replied, his voice irritated, not even bothering to look up.
Chin held up his badge. "5-0. We'd like a few minutes of your time."
At that, Lonoehu looked up, his expression of irritation quickly changing to one of disbelief, anxiety, and possibly even fear.
"What is this about?" the other man rumbled, standing to his feet. "Frank Wheeler, CEO," he introduced himself. "What's going on?"
"We need to speak to Mr. Lonoehu privately, please, about an investigation."
Wheeler looked at Lonoehu, who looked at his desktop. "He's a straight arrow," the CEO boomed. "Never done a thing wrong."
"If that's so, we'll determine that," Chin replied firmly.
Wheeler looked from the two cousins to his employee, then back. "Bruce, you need anything, you let me know."
He nodded.
Wheeler gave Chin and Kono another look, then headed out of the office, the door snicking shut behind him. Lonoehu began to clean up his desk. "This is about Travis Holden?"
"Yes," Kono replied in a measured tone as she wandered around the office, taking her leisurely time straightening items throughout, allowing Lonoehu to get progressively more nervous. She straightened a notepad to the left of Lonoehu's phone, untangled the phone cord. She then picked up a bottle of ReNu contact lens cleaner from off the floor and set it next to the computer mouse, which was to the left of the keyboard. A tissue box which had fallen to the ground was placed back upon its shelf. She finally rounded the corner of the desk to come up along the man's right. "You seem to anticipate us."
Lonoehu's eyes flickered nervously, darting from the two cops back to his papers. "Do you have any leads?"
"A few. We'd like to know what he had contacted you about," Chin replied. "He had your name in a list of files, and on a notepad in his office."
The man blinked, then looked up with a frown. "Travis Holden had my name on a notepad in his office?"
"Is that a problem?" Chin stood in front of Lonoehu's desk, looking the man down.
"No. It's just that we didn't have much contact. I don't know why he'd have my name there."
With his right hand, Chin picked up Lonoehu's mug from his desk by the handle, looking at it before setting it back down. "How did you know Travis Holden?"
"I figure you already know."
"Humor us."
Lonoehu sighed, then sat down in his seat. "I helped him with bank records when he was working on his drug wars articles. Told him how to interpret the numbers, that kind of thing."
"Ever help him out with private accounts?" Chin asked.
"I can't do that. That's violating customers' privacy."
"Not if the cops have a warrant," Kono replied.
"I - " Lonoehu sighed. "I hinted at which possible accounts might be suspect. Cops would come in later with warrants."
"You were a source."
"Yes." Lonoehu then glared. "But that's all." He rubbed his forehead in agitation. "And if he's dead, I'll thank you for not leading his killers to me, too."
"Where were you the night of the twentieth?" Kono asked shortly, crossing her arms.
"I was at my son's baseball game. He'll confirm it, as will those sitting around me." Lonoehu looked insulted by the implication.
"So you haven't seen Travis Holden lately?" Kono asked innocently.
Lonoehu nodded. "I haven't seen him in a month."
"Or communicated with him," Chin said in confirmation.
"Or communicated with him."
Chin and Kono exchanged looks of stoic disbelief before Kono finally intoned in a no-nonsense voice, "We'd like to see your shoe, please."
"My what?" Lonoehu gave them a look of astonishment.
"Just humor us," Chin replied with a trace, feral smile.
Steve watched quietly from the doorway of the morgue as Max carefully uncovered the face of Travis Holden. The medical examiner had cleaned up the body and carefully inserted putty into the bullethole, covering it so it was unnoticeable. He had been able to reconstruct some of the face, too, but not all.
Livy Holden stood, rigid, unable to move. She closed her eyes for several minutes, and Steve could see silent tears streaming down her face.
"I'll give you a minute," Steve said quietly, pushing over a chair over to the body tray.
He and Max left quietly. Through the closed glass door, Steve looked back to see Livy Holden sitting in the chair, weeping silently.
After some time, she came to the door. "Thank you, Commander," she said, her voice tightly controlled, before turning to Max. "Thank you, Dr. Bergman."
The ME nodded and slipped quietly past her into the morgue.
The drive back to headquarters was silent, as was the walk up. As they came up the stairs, Danny looked over at them, and Steve silently shook his head. Danny talked quietly to Billie, who was sitting in his office chair, and she nodded before turning back to what she was doing.
Steve gently sat the woman down in a seat in front of his desk and handed her a box of tissues. After a moment, she began to speak. "I spoke to him just that night, the night he - " she trailed off. She leaned to one side, her forehead resting against her hand, her elbow on the armrest. "I was just telling him that I might need to extend my stay."
"Your sister was having a baby."
She nodded. "Her first. Since our parents passed, we help each other out. She came to help me when Billie was born." She took a deep breath. "I'd anticipated taking Billie with me, but she wanted to say with her father, so we agreed on that. Travis took some days off."
"Can you think of anybody who would want your husband dead?"
She gave a small, sad laugh. "He upset a lot of people with his articles. Travis was the type who fought for the truth - and printed it."
"What brought you to Hawaii?"
She sighed, then paused. "We had - we'd angered some people in Los Angeles, exposing some things. But the last straw was me, actually. I had been doing an article on a corrupt police strike force in Los Angeles." She paused. "The depth of the corruption - " she shrugged.
"I think I read your report. I was passing through a few years back," Steve muttered. "Leader's a big, bulky guy. Looks like the Thing."
She looked surprised but nodded. "That's him."
Steve paused, crossing his arms. "Olivia M. Holden." He paused. "You use your husband's name now."
She nodded. "Most people were glad I'd outed the force, but even then - some of my sources dried up - sources on both sides. Travis had just finished a stint as a researcher with one of CNN's offices in Los Angeles. We decided to relocate. Billie was a few months old."
"I hope you didn't come here expecting a crimeless paradise," Danny replied.
She smiled. "Of course not. But it's been a good place to start over." She paused. "It had been - before this."
"There's a police report on your house about two months ago." Danny indicated the folder.
"Yes." Olivia nodded. "They decided that it was a robbery, since some jewelry was missing, and that the men who did it were most likely gone already."
"Or just lying low," Steve murmured. "What are you doing now?"
"Well, I've been doing an article on medical technology, and I've been researching the influence of the passed national healthcare plan on hospital budget cuts." She shrugged.
"Any case before?"
"No, not really. I did an article on Detective Kaleo, when he was exposed, but that was awhile ago now."
"More along the lines of your experience," Steve offered. "Police corruption."
"Hawaii's smaller. We do whatever work we have to," she replied. "This time, for me, it's medical technology."
"What about your husband?"
"Um, we got a few threats when he was doing stuff on the drug wars, but interestingly, fewer now that he's focused on the Mexican drug wars' influence here." She shrugged. "I guess it's a common enemy thing."
"Local drug lords would like their Mexican counterparts out, too," Danny agreed.
"That's all I know."
"Was he helping anybody out with anything?" Danny asked then. "HPD said he was looking into something for them."
"Miranda Akina, yes," Livy Holden nodded. "He mentioned that she might be up to something shady, but she checked out. Something about land deeds and so forth." She shrugged. "But again, he found nothing wrong with Akina."
"So?" Kono asked, leaning over from the passenger's side seat in Chin's black SUV.
"He's certainly a size thirteen," Chin commented as he pointed to the shoe size, printed in Lonoehu's shoe. He then flipped it over. "No supination, though." He ran his finger along the flat sole.
"But he said this was a new pair of shoes," Kono said. "There might not be any yet."
"These also aren't Gucci." Chin looked at the photo. "They're Burberry."
"But it does tell us that he likes expensive shoes," Kono replied insistently. "That fits what we're looking for."
"Yeah." Chin leaned back in his seat, a frown on his face. "Yeah, it does."
The office was dark, with the two cousins already having left. Danny looked about his own office, having put away everything, and then came out, his things in his hand. He flicked off the light. He was mildly startled to find Steve in the darkened bullpen; as he watched, the head of the taskforce stood by the television screens, absently pausing the surveillance video at the part where the little girl ran out of the room, then rewinding it to the minutes before. "Hey," Danny cleared his throat. "I'm, uh, heading out."
"Yeah." Steve got up, then held out a wrapped package. "This is for Grace."
"You guys already had dinner and coco puffs for her yesterday," Danny started, then raised an eyebrow as Steve looked a little green at the mention of coco puffs.
"It's nothing big. It's a chew toy for her pet. And Billie wanted to give her a picture of her rabbit."
"I hope that chew toy squeaks loudly when the rabbit chews it," Danny commented. "Very loudly."
"I thought you and Rachel were getting along better now," Steve replied, the obligatory amused grin on his face, though the smile didn't seem to reach his eyes.
"I don't mean for Rachel. I mean for Stan." At that, Steve laughed, and Danny chuckled. "You OK?"
"Fine."
"You don't look fine," Danny replied. Steve gave an irritated snort, then turned back to the video. "You're not going to see any more than we saw already, Steve. We had statements from every cop, and we and Lukela interviewed every cop there. We showed Billie the pictures of the arrested people they had in there, and she didn't recognize any of them."
"I just don't understand how Bruce Lonoehu could have done what he did," Steve muttered. "He had no opportunity to threaten her. Look at it - he's with somebody the entire time he's on camera."
"We have the other evidence, Steven," Danny said sharply. "And when the evidence points towards one guy, then we go after him!"
That got no reaction out of McGarrett, who had turned back to the screen. He seemed to be waiting for something, and Danny turned to the screen. Two minutes ticked by, and if on cue, the little girl came tearing across the screen, going as fast as she could, straight out of police headquarters.
The video continued to play, but he didn't seem to be looking at it any more. The two men stood in complete silence, staring blankly at the screen as the video continued to play on.
"How do you do it?"
Danny almost didn't hear the question, as soft as it was. He gave Steve a quick, sidelong glance. The man was still staring at the screen, as if it would give him some kind of answer.
"I'm not even her father." His voice was reserved, quiet, and somebody who knew Steve less would have missed the tiny waver in his voice.
Danny said nothing, waiting for his friend to say more.
"She was crying," Steve said quietly, in a faraway voice, watching the still image of the screen as if entranced. "When we found her, she was crying. Witnesses we talked to - they said she was just running - and she was crying so hard and running so hard that she started hyperventilating because she couldn't draw enough breath." He was still staring at the monitor, watching the day-to-day business at the HPD.
Danny was quiet. "You try your best," he said quietly, answering his friend's earlier question. "And you pray that somebody else will make up what you can't." He pressed his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Go home. Tomorrow's Sunday. Get some rest." With that, he turned to go.
At the door, he turned back, and saw his partner still standing in front of the television screens.
Once they were on the highway, Kono looked at her cousin again. "Why didn't we bring Lonoehu in for questioning? He lied to us! We know that fax number is his private line - his secretary confirmed it. He's got a taste for expensive shoes, and he's a size thirteen."
"We need more," Chin replied. As soon as they were in the car and out of the lot, he asked, "What did you notice about his office?"
"Neat enough. Clean. Family photos."
"All right, his desk."
"Neat, clean. Orderly. Family photos."
"The notepad you picked up," Chin replied. "It was to the left of the phone. The phone was on the right hand side of his desk." When she looked at him, her brow furrowed in confusion, the older cop continued. "His mug. I picked it up, by the handle, with my right hand. I was facing him. The handle was on his left. His keyboard - the mouse." When Kono shrugged, not comprehending, Chin prodded, "The phone. He picks up the phone with his right hand - "
" - and writes with his left," Kono said in dismay as she figured out. "And his mouse is to the left of his keyboard. He's left-handed."
"Our shooter's right-handed," Chin replied.
"Some people are ambidextrous."
"He picks up mugs and uses computer mice with his left hand, Kono. How ambidextrous can he be?" She was silent. After a moment, he looked over at her, noticing the stricken look on her face. "Kono?"
"I picked up his contact lens cleaner," she said softly and slowly, her mind reeling as her eyes flickered back and forth.
"And?"
"He uses ReNu," she said softly. When Chin shook his head, not completely understanding, Kono explained, "Charlie said the bottle of solution we found at Holden's, the one with Lonoehu's name on it, was for rigid gas permeable. But the one I picked up in Lonoehu's office - ReNu - is an over-the-counter contact lens cleaner for SOFT contacts."
Chin frowned as he parked the car. "We need some kind of smoking gun if we're going to catch Lonoehu," Chin muttered.
Steve nursed his beer in his corner booth, sitting in the seat with his back against the wall. An older man approached him, and Steve stood up to greet him. "Thanks for meeting me so last minute."
"Quite all right." The older man sat down. "You wanted to see me, off the books?"
"I'd like to keep this off the records, yes." Steve smiled. "Can I get you a drink?"
"An iced tea." At Steve's raised eyebrow, the older man chuckled. "Unfortunately, no more carbonated or alcoholic drinks for me." As the waitress departed, the older man looked at him expectantly. "Haven't exactly expected any calls from Cmdr. McGarrett."
"You don't think I'd call an HPD psychiatrist?" Steve replied with an amused smile.
"You're not exactly the type," the older man looked amused.
"Is that from your profile of me, Dr. Chang?" Steve smiled.
The other man chuckled. "Very much like your father. He would be proud of you." Steve paused a moment, then gave a half-smile. "So, what is it you'd like to ask me?"
"You most likely know we had Billie Holden with us." Steve paused. "We found out she's had quite a good memory." He laid the drawing of his ship down in front of the psychiatrist. "She and one of my partners looked at the ship for just a few minutes because she was curious, but she was able to produce this picture. Terribly drawn," he commented, and Chang chuckled, "but accurate as to the number of masts as well as the sails on the masts." He laid down his iPhone with a photo of the sailing ship in his office.
Dr. Chang picked up the phone, looking at the picture, and then at the drawing. "Impressive for a child."
"She drew this one from memory that night." Steve laid the second picture down in front of the doctor - it was nearly identical to the first drawing. After waiting a moment for the psychiatrist to examine the pictures, Steve laid down another drawing. "This is a picture she drew of us." He then called up an iPhone image of Grace's rabbit, holding it up from the psychiatrist to see, and then brought up an image of the rabbit Billie had drawn as a gift to Grace. "This is a picture of a pet rabbit she was playing with the other day. She drew the picture this morning, about twelve hours later."
The psychiatrist looked at the drawings and then at the photos. "She's no Michaelangelo, but she does notice detail."
"Photographic memory?"
"Not necessarily. Perhaps it's something as simple as attention to detail."
Steve nodded and put the drawings back into his folder. "She seems unable to remember certain details from the night of her father's death."
"It certainly could be. If the experience was traumatic for the child, her mind may have shut off certain memories."
"Like the face of the man she saw."
"Possibly." Chang carefully folded the paper napkin by his iced tea.
"She remembers his shoes in detail, and a ring."
"How'd she describe them?"
"Shiny for both. The shoes were black with laces." Steve paused. "Remembers a man. Remembers he was fat - or so she said."
The HPD psychiatrist paused, leaning back in his seat. He sipped his tea, then asked, "Did you try drawing with her?"
"We did, later. Still can't remember his face. Just the shoes and the ring."
"She may never remember," the psychiatrist replied. "Or she may eventually recall, given certain circumstances."
"Can we manufacture those circumstances?"
"Not unless you want to re-traumatize her," the psychiatrist replied. He sat back and studied Steve. "Children are very resilient. Her nightmares will pass with time and treatment. Billie, as far as we know, has come from a very loving, supportive family. Her mother is strong. Billie will recover."
Steve leaned back in his seat, his gaze dropping to the top of the folder. He opened it, just looking at the rather poorly done drawing of the rabbit, with the letters of her name scrawled on it.
"She's very young to lose her father, and so violently," Chang said quietly. "But nobody said life is fair."
Steve put the drawings away, back into the folder. He looked down at it, then at her. "Even after this is all over - will her nightmares eventually go away?"
"Hopefully, yes." The psychiatrist tapped the glass thoughtfully. "She won't be unscathed."
"She certainly will be scarred if we put her on the witness stand," Steve muttered.
"You need to seriously consider that," the psychiatrist agreed. "But then, she might be too young to be put on the witness stand at all."
"Because she's three?"
"Youngest witness on record is a six-year-old," the psychiatrist replied. "Although that's changing now, given the sexual abuse of very small children."
"But she's still most likely too young," Steve repeated Chang's earlier concern. "So she can't even testify, despite the fact that she knows all this stuff."
"She may not be allowed to testify," the psychiatrist said with an enigmatic smile, "but it doesn't prevent you from using her information to track down the man who did it."
Steve frowned, leaning backward in the chair to study the older man; the gears turned in his head. "And if everything she tells us actually turns out to be true," he said, thinking through the man's comment, "and we find evidence wherever she mentions it, it boosts her credibility," he murmured as he caught on to the psychiatrist's point.
The psychiatrist grinned.
TBC