Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal
Chapter 6
I know. Late again. Have run out of excuses but I do apologize. Thank you for your comments, follows and favorites. Would love to hear what you think of this chapter. You don't have to be nice if you don't want to.
Imaginary Beta is responsible for any errors. Would fire her but she's kinda sensitive.
Disclaimer: Still not making any money from this. I've become resigned to staying up all night doing this for no remuneration whatsoever. You'd think they could at least pay for a pound of French roast.
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Uh-Oh
The night promised to be balmy as the sun began its descent and honeyed light flowed over the ocean like something warm and sweet.
"I shouldn't even be talking to you cat." said Steve as he tried not to smile at the purring animal that bumped against him trying to get his attention. Tiredly, he leaned back onto the wooden chaise on the lanai. His head was still pounding and his vision had only just begun to rid itself of multiple images of single objects.
The little cat had been trying to insinuate himself into his arms for the last five minutes and wouldn't give up because he knew if he kept at it, the tall man would eventually give in.
Cujo had been worried. After his human had been asleep on the floor and all of those others had gathered around him, they'd taken him away. He was worried he wouldn't come back. Sometimes the tall man was gone for many days and nights. He always waited for him. He didn't even mind sharing him with his human's female when he returned. Not most of the time anyway. He still didn't like it when they wouldn't open the door when he wanted to be let into the sleeping room. He still couldn't figure out why they did that sometimes. Maybe they couldn't hear him. He'd have to meow louder.
"Here, take this." was the order as Danny extended a bottle of water in one hand and pills in the palm of the other. Grumbling, Steve obediently held out his hand for the medication. Danny took his duties seriously and wouldn't let him slide on the pain pills and anti-nausea stuff.
"Why are you even letting that evil little monster close to you after what happened?" asked Danny in disgust as he sat down in the old wooden deck chair placed next to his friend, (cautious to leave enough space between himself and the barracuda). "I thought you two were buds."
"It was an accident Danny. He didn't do it on purpose." defended the man with the bandage on his head and a large purpling bruise on the side of his face.
"Only you could get knocked unconscious by a five-pound furball."
"No, I got knocked unconscious by a twenty-pound cast iron dutch oven."
"That's only the thing that caused the big knot on the back of your head. The stitches were made necessary when you faceplanted, no doubt gracefully, on the linoleum after managing to whack yourself on the cabinet door on the way down. You really are an overachiever."
Cujo finally managed to crawl onto Steve's chest and immediately began to lick at the side of his face. Danny cringed. For someone who was so OCD about other things, Steve had no problem whatsoever with cat germs. Who knew where that animal's mouth had been?
"You really want to let that rabid little badger that close to your jugular?"
"He won't hurt me."
"Says the man with what, twelve stitches in his head? You're also going to have a most spectacular display of rainbow colored bruises by tomorrow. You're only in the purple phase right now. Should graduate to blue and green by tomorrow. Lovely."
With a tired glare, Steve replied, "Again, Danny, he didn't do it on purpose. He probably just saw the pot and thought it was something interesting to explore."
His partner waived a dismissive hand before asking, "What the hell does anyone even need a sixty-pound dutch oven for?"
"Haven't the slightest fucking idea. You'll have to ask my mom." answered McGarrett; not responding to Danny's exaggeration of the weight of the thing that had bashed him on the head when it fell off the countertop as he rummaged in the cabinet below it. It did feel like sixty-pounds though.
"She doesn't even cook!"
"Yeah, we all lucked out on that one at Thanksgiving."
"Can't be that bad."
"Remember your charcoal frittata?"
"How can I forget? You smothered it in flame retardant - not one of my favorite condiments I might add."
"As I said at the time, I put it out of its misery . . . anyway, that would make my mom's cooking seem like a meal at La Mer."
"Always wondered why you don't appreciate the finer culinary delicacies, like Jersey style pizza and malasadas."
"You are going to die of a massive food-induced coronary someday."
"Yeah but at least I'll have eaten something other than tree bark and wheat grass sundaes before I go. Oh, and don't' forget the edamame sprinkles. They make it really yummy."
The three sat companionably watching the last bands of light leave the sky before stars began their travels across the deep blue expanse.
…
At seven A.M. the next morning, Danny's cell rang. A hand snaked out from under the mound of blankets to feel around for the small device he'd left atop the coffee table in front of the couch on which he'd spent the night. It lay next to the nearly empty bowl of Cheetohs. Managing to knock the plastic container off the table to scatter bits of orange crumbs onto the carpet, the hand finally latched onto the small device and dragged it back under the covers.
"This better be the mother of all emergencies." he growled into the phone.
"Danny, there's been another murder." was the terse reply. "Can you leave Steve alone yet? We're gonna need your help."
"Yeah, of course Chin." replied Danny in a gravelly voice not yet accustomed to speech after the overnight lull and consuming what must have been the world's largest bag of neon colored snack food. He emerged from his cocoon to sit up and run a hand over his face. "Where is it this time?"
"Corner of Kaahumanu Street and Moanalua Road at the edge of the big business park. This one's really a mess."
"I'll just check on our fearless leader one last time and I'll be right there."
Struggling from under the blankets, he stood and let his back finish its noisy realignment before he crept silently up the stairs and pushed open the door that had been left ajar. Steve was sprawled on top of the covers and looked completely out of it. The little grey cat on the pillow next to him sat up and blinked at him sleepily. Throughout the night, the feline had been at Steve's side but hadn't given Danny any trouble when he woke the injured man periodically to check on his condition. He thought it odd the normally crazed wolverine seemed to somehow sense this wasn't the time to give him any shit but he wasn't gonna look a gift cat in the mouth.
Danny was about to tap Steve on the leg to wake him one last time when the SEAL mumbled something in his sleep and rolled over onto his side before resuming his soft breathing.
Well, he's not dead. thought Danny as he turned; leaving the door ajar for the cat. He went back downstairs to splash water on his face and get dressed. Thankfully, one of the stops made on the way to McGarrett's yesterday along with the one at the pharmacy was to go by his place to get fresh clothes for today. He ignored the shaving kit. It was only the second day of stubble and a smooth face wasn't one of his priorities. He rushed through his routine, not even taking the time to knot the tie he draped around his neck. He hadn't quite broken the habit of not feeling dressed until he had a strip of fabric knotted around his neck despite Steve's not so subtle persuasion of threatening to cut it off with that huge wicked looking SEAL knife of his.
He scribbled a hasty note and left it on the kitchen counter near the coffee pot. Last night, he'd set the timer to start the brewing cycle in about another hour.
He felt guilty for leaving Steve alone but other than an evil headache and an even more evil disposition the concussed man seemed okay when he went to bed last night and, though cranky, was coherent enough when awakened periodically as per the doctor's instructions.
Danny's eyes felt gritty as he squinted at the sheet of note paper; scribbling 'Dear Moron, Don't even try to make it to work today. I've taken both sets of your truck keys. STAY!'
As he was leaving, Cujo came thundering down the stairs to find out what the activity was about. "For such a puny animal, you sure make a lot of noise." he whispered as the cat looked at him curiously. "Make sure the cat lady doesn't do anything stupid like try to leave." Why am I talking to a cat? Must be lack of sleep, decided the detective as he closed the door behind him and locked it.
…
This time, the blood had made it all the way out to the sidewalk. The first person to arrive for an early morning caffeine jolt had seen it trailing out from under the door and hadn't bothered to enter. Horrified by the sluggishly flowing stream, he'd pulled out his cell to frantically dial 911.
Chin and Kono were already taking statements from the bleary-eyed early morning caffeine seekers as the techs had begun to arrive with their boxes of equipment to process the scene.
Danny had no trouble locating the coffee shop. It sat right at the intersection and the huge floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto the now busy street were blindingly lit with the crime scene investigator's work lights. Cars slowed as people on their way to an early start of their workday in the business park behind it craned their necks as they passed. That intrinsic yet no less annoying trait of human curiosity was causing traffic to back up on the tertiary street that turned into the park and he had to whoop the siren to get them to move out of the way.
Leaving the Camaro's blue lights blinking and parking behind Kono's Cruise, he emerged while muttering "nosy fucking imbeciles". He quickly made his way over the sidewalk to the glowing edifice still brighter than the dim and slowly waking morning sky behind it.
Seeing Danny arrive and the traffic snarl he must have had to drive through, Chin mused that if the gawkers could actually gaze on the gristly scene, many of them would have never made it all the way to work.
Danny entered the shop, carefully avoiding the rivulets of darkening blood that had flowed all the way across the room to the doorway. There were four bodies. They'd been lined up in front of the counter and looked to have been executed in an organized manner. Their hands had been bound behind their backs, they'd all been blindfolded and all had their throats cut.
…..
Steve awoke slowly. His head felt heavy as though covered by a thick woolen blanket. Of course, there was no such blanket but his senses were dulled and muted. Turning his head to the left, he saw the familiar yellow eyes staring back at him.
"Where's your favorite chew toy?" he croaked out, mouth feeling like that blanket had spent some time there as well. He slowly sat up and found that he was still dizzy but the room settled in one spot after another few moments. At least there was only one cat staring at him this time.
Stifling a groan, he moved quietly, not wanting to wake Danny who must still be asleep on the couch. He knew the man hadn't gotten much rest because of the required rousings of someone with a concussion and wanted to let his loyal friend sleep as long as possible.
Though his memory wasn't the best, he recalled leaving Danny on the couch and watching a football game; a huge bowl of cheese curls on his lap. After that, he was vaguely aware of his friend waking him every couple hours to check on him. He'd been feeling so crappy that he always fell back to sleep after answering questions designed to let his partner know he wasn't suffering from any dire aftereffects of the concussion. Wait a minute . . . was one of those questions 'Can I have a raise?' Have to ask Danny about that. He hoped he'd answered in the negative though the guy probably did deserve one for having to babysit all night.
He went to take a shower as his furry companion followed him. Picking up the little cat and depositing him outside the bathroom door, he quickly shut it before Cujo could dash back inside. If not kept out, the contrary feline would try to get under the water with him. He always thought cats weren't supposed to like water but Cujo had no problem whatsoever getting wet. For an animal that had so many other 'issues' it was pretty strange and though Danny always accused him of being an exhibitionist when circumstances required a clothing change in the office or elsewhere; it was still kind of weird to have the cat stare at him while he was stripping. Cath was always kind of creeped-out by Cujo's stare and he'd always laughed at her but he could see her point.
He'd gotten the bandage wet so, wincing; he pulled it off to toss into the trash. The line of stitches started just over his right ear and went upward for three inches or so. "Dammit" he muttered, not at the gruesome display but that they'd had to shave a strip of scalp.
He really wasn't all that vain but it looked stupid. Danny would've had a cow if it had happened to him. Opening the medicine cabinet, he pulled out the antiseptic ointment and bandaging supplies to replace the one he'd removed. Maybe he'd just buzz off the rest so it could all grow out at once. Wouldn't be the first time; besides, Cath told him it was a good look though he doubted the stitches would make it seem like a fashion statement.
Not bothering with a comb, he ran his hands quickly through his hair as he clumped down the stairs; surprised not to see the detective passed out on the sofa. Judging from the empty bowl sitting on the coffee table, he should be in a yellow dye number six coma.
"Danny?" he called out but got no response. "You here?"
Striding into the kitchen, he saw the room was empty and the door to the lanai was still locked. Spotting the sheet of paper on the counter near the coffee maker, he frowned as he read the note.
"Dammit" he muttered. His level of frustration immediately ramping up; he went to the landline. The ancient wall-mounted phone was beside the back door. He had no idea where his cell was. Danny probably took that too, he thought with mounting irritation.
Dialing the detective's number, he waited for an answer.
…
Mickey Kilkenny stood, hands on hips, surveying the grisly scene. Washed-out blue eyes took in the details of the crime. He'd promised Kiki he'd give her the full report when he'd said goodbye to her this morning. That dick McGarrett had full intention to bust her if she showed up and again made a pest of herself. He had no doubt the man would make good on the promise.
The detective figured it was fair trade. The woman was damned good in the sack. Besides, his wife was away with the kids visiting relatives for a month and well . . . a man has needs. He watched the three Five-0 taskforce detectives as they briefly huddled together outside before dispersing to gather their own information. Where was McGarrett?
The news trucks were beginning to clog the street along with the lookyloos. This was going to be a mess. He saw KAEO's truck pull up. Kiki was playing it safe for now and one of the other reporters was sent out on this one. Talia, that cute little piece wasn't even along, just the hair-gelled walking clotheshanger who filled in when Kiki wasn't around and his pothead cameraman. This was going to be a boring day.
He walked over to where Five-0's Detective Williams stood on the walkway in front of the shop. He knew the guy was at least a decent investigator; not some over-amped tattooed jerk who had no business being a cop.
"Hey Danny, you pick up anything new?" he greeted
"Not yet but we'll get the bastard." answered Williams with a grim smile
"Where's your partner? Polishing his medals?"
The compact detective only gave him a warning glare. "McGarrett's got other things to do this morning . . . not that it's any of your concern Mickey."
"Touch touchy, detective." smirked Kilkenny
"Just what is your problem?" asked Williams gruffly; no patience for anyone's crap this morning, "There's no need to make this any harder than it has to be."
"My problem is that the Governor's pet grizzly has no business being a cop. He's just a psycho with a badge."
"That 'psycho' as you call him is a better cop than you'll ever be Mickey. That must be what's bothering you. You've finally realized that and its put a dent in your incredibly overblown opinion of yourself. The opinion no one else seems to hold mind you."
Bristling, Kilkenny bit out, "I knew you'd defend your boyfriend. He not here because you got into a tiff over who gets to drive?" sneered the HPD detective, emphasizing words in a suggestive way that left no doubt about the entendre. "Tell me, do you guys switch-off or . . . . " sneered the HPD detective.
As his blood pressure rose in anger, Danny felt his face redden. That's it! Kilkenny had gotten on his last nerve.
"Aww, did I make you blush? You know Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell is over and done with. You guys gonna make it official?" sniggered Kilkenny knowing he'd finally succeeded in getting under Williams' skin. Baiting the little guy could be dangerous at any time and right now, his partner wasn't around to interfere.
Chin, spotting Williams and that dick-head Kilkenny standing on the walkway, had been on his way to tell Danny that they'd perhaps gotten a break. There was promising information he'd just gleaned from one of the people who'd arrived for an early morning latte. From the short distance away, he saw Danny stiffen his posture and then take a confrontational stance. If the man had been a cat, his fur would be standing on end. Quickening his steps, he just caught the last few words spoken by HPD's most disagreeable detective. Uh-Oh!
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So, you think our little SEAL will be content to stay home and recuperate? Is Danny going to wind up in a brawl?
Reviews would be lovely.