Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal
Chapter 24
Here's the next. Hope it doesn't disappoint. Thank you all for the response to the last chapter. Due to some sort of glitch, FF seemed to garble my replies. If you received a thank you that was even more squirrely than usual that's the reason. Just know that I love hearing from you and look forward to your input.
Disclaimer: Ninja cats getting restless over that promised mouse ranch. They don't understand the whole 'I don't get paid for this' thing. Can't tell them the check's in the mail. I'm sure they've figured out direct deposit by now.
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
Out of the Cabinet
"Hey", Danny greeted Steve as the detective walked into the room carrying two cups of coffee and a bag of malasadas.
"Those for me?" smiled McGarrett eyeing the white bakery bag as he took the offered cup.
Danny noted his partner was still incredibly pale; continuing to look like day old road-kill. Steve took a tentative sip from the paper cup and flinched slightly at the contact with the still too hot to drink beverage.
"Yeah, I'll share. Seems the least I could do since you're not getting out of that bed for at least another day or so." Danny tiredly plopped into the chair beside the bed and settled in. "That's decaf by the way. I don't think you need caffeine if you're supposed to be resting IN BED."
"I don't see why . . . ", began McGarrett in an annoyed tone.
"You don't see why what? You don't see why you can't run a marathon with a bum leg and seriously iffy kidneys? Don't see why a doctor who helped put in, oh, I don't know, about a zillion stitches to put you back together again doesn't want you to undo all the hard work. Don't see why we didn't just let you bleed to death. Don't see why . . . "
"Okay, okay, I give up." grumbled Steve snatching the bag Danny held out toward him.
"That's better. At least I don't have to beat you senseless . . . make that even more senseless to get you to understand that you need to stay put until your owie gets better."
Steve leaned back onto his pillows with a frustrated sigh as he reached into the bag for a treat of fried sugar-coated dough. He needed the comfort food right now. Though he'd never admit it, Danny is right. Even the too quickly aborted attempt at a rant had tired him. The nausea had finally abated but he was still shaky, dizzy and cold. Malasadas would definitely help.
The doctor had been in earlier to tell him his leg was healing well but still needed to be immobilized for at least another day. Also, the results of the most recent kidney function tests weren't all that great and he may still be required to go through at least a session or two of dialysis. She also explained the headache that hadn't left since he'd first awakened was one of the symptoms of a poorly functioning renal system.
He poured himself another tumbler of water from the pitcher on the rolling tray as he waited for his coffee to cool enough to drink. The doctor and nurses, particularly Bambi, and it seemed anyone who wandered by his room, reminded him he needed to drink as much as he could. He felt as though he'd already drained the entire water supply of the city of Honolulu.
"Thanks for the coffee D. Even if it's decaf, it'll help with the whole 'drink lots of fluids' directive."
"It's actually pretty good java; much better than what you'd managed to brew during your stint as the barista from hell. Kono discovered a pretty kickass vending machine. Much better than the ones here at Queens."
"Don't remind me about my nine hours of putting up with ridiculous amounts of bullshit." said Steve sourly.
"Big tough SEAL used to taking orders that sends him who-knows-where to battle who-knows-what and he can't cut being given orders for a soy half-caf caramel latte with whipped and extra sprinkles?"
"Told you D. Those people are nuts. Who'd pay that much for a damned cup of coffee?"
"Obviously not you, McScrooge."
Danny smiled as Steve wriggled around trying to find a more comfortable position in the bed he'd been lying in for so long. With a grimace and a hitch in breath he abruptly ceased the movement.
"Your leg hurting you?" asked the concerned detective
"No, something I'd rather not talk about."
Holding the beverage toward Danny in a mock toast Steve said in sad resignation, "At least I don't have to get out of bed to pee."
Danny frowned in sympathy.
First things first; at Steve's anxious request, Danny delivered an update on the medical condition of their rodent control officer. Cujo was now well enough to start giving everybody a bad time - as predicted. Danny had already delivered, no doubt, the first of several boxes of chocolates as compensation for the piranha's mayhem. Until their rodent control officer left the clinic, techs Janet and Joanie would surely deserve continued bribes and compensation as the grey mamba recovered both his health and the energy to exercise his evil temper.
As usual, Steve was quite a hit with the ladies and they expressed concern for him. The techs, along with the receptionist and Cujo's vet Pat Charteris all sent him their best wishes. They'd asked Danny for the Commander's room number so they could come visit him en mass in the next couple of days if he wasn't yet out of the hospital.
Animal people are a strange lot, thought the detective. One would think they'd stay as far away as possible from someone crazy enough to own the patient from hell. Danny had witnessed the new bandages sported on the arms and hands of both of the techs. Chocolates were the least Five-0 could do in appreciation of their forbearance.
"So, did you actually go visit Cujo or just make a phone call?" asked Steve
"Of course I went to see him. They don't let cats take phone calls."
Steve only rolled his eyes at that.
"I promised to take care of him didn't I?" said Danny annoyed that Steve would even ask such a question.
"So, how did he look? I mean you know . . . what did . . . "
"If you ask me 'what did he say', I'm going to have you run through the CT scanner to check for a head injury Steven."
"Cats don't talk. I know that." said Steve indignantly
"It's a good thing they don't because I think your pet cobra would not be the least bit happy with us right now and he'd have some pretty choice words for the way they take his temperature."
That made Steve smile. Last time the little cat had gone to the vet, when they got to the part where the tech inserted a thermometer under his tail, Cujo's eyes had actually widened in surprise. He'd never seen Cujo so 'speechless'.
"Well, in any case Cat Lady," continued Danny waiving his hand in dismissal of Steve's outburst, "he looks pretty much like you do right now but instead of a maxi-pad on his head, he's got one slapped on his side. Oh, and like you, he's got a seriously fucked up haircut where they had to shave him for surgery. He's still hooked up to an I.V. for fluids and antibiotics but at least he doesn't have a Foley."
"So he looks okay?"
"As okay as he can after nearly getting flattened by a car but don't worry, the piranha's gonna be fine. You know, you two really are way too much alike."
"I didn't get flattened by a car." reminded Steve as he polished off another malasada, these things really are addictive.
"Not this time. This time you got flattened by a china cabinet. That was pretty creative of you I must admit."
Having finished his share of the sugary pastries, the detective brushed the crumbs from his shirt as Steve glared disapprovingly – whether at the crumbs falling to the floor or the fact he'd eaten so many of the little donuts Danny didn't know. "Speaking of china cabinets and the owner of the china that goes in them, where's your mother?"
"She called. She's visiting friends on Molokai right now and couldn't get a flight because of the bad weather."
"Babe, it's been clear for the last two days." reminded Danny though he probably shouldn't have. The words just kind of slipped out. Steve's relationship with Doris was his own business.
"She'll be here." defended her son, his expression going back to the blank wall he usually displayed to the world.
Danny didn't pursue it. Steve's mother certainly wasn't what he was used to as far as examples of maternal concern. If he'd been in the hospital instead of Steve, Stella Williams would have moved heaven and earth to be by her son's side. He had no doubt if she couldn't get a plane, she'd take a boat here and if a boat wasn't available she'd probably try to friggin' swim here.
Trying not to look annoyed at Steve's defense of such a lame excuse whether he believed Doris or not, he gathered up the debris of their impromptu coffee klatch and deposited it into the wastebasket.
As far as he was concerned, Doris McGarrett is a real piece of work. Next time Cujo decided to wage war against Steve's maternally challenged mother, he was gonna be the furry little time bomb's back-up.
They talked for a while longer; Danny saying he didn't have to be back to the office for another hour. There was a meeting scheduled between HPD and Five-0 regarding the Macchiato Murders. It seems the coffee shop they'd staked out the night of the attack on Five-0's leader had its surveillance system disabled. The status hadn't been discovered for at least another day until Chin, out of routine, had asked for the video; intending to review it to see if they'd missed anything while the team members were trying to play baristas, (some more successfully than others).
Of course, they assumed it was the murderer who'd messed with the system. It had to have been done after they'd left for the night. Danny hesitated to give too much information to his work dedicated partner knowing it would make him all the more antsy to leave the hospital.
The next bit of information dispensed was that the team and HPD think they've identified the man who attacked Steve. If Cujo had been chasing the right guy, it was someone named Andrew Timmons. The deceased was a recent widower who'd owned a now defunct bookstore and had been under the care of a shrink for the last few months. So far, they hadn't found anything that connected him to the murders or to Steve in general. He may only be a deranged stalker out to make a big splash by killing the leader of the Governor's elite taskforce. It was a sad fact of life these days that such people managed to fall through the cracks and cause grief to themselves and others.
They discussed the possible motives for Timmon's attack. Deciding they need to know more about the guy before coming to any conclusions, they shelved it until the team could delve more deeply into the man's background. The coffee shop murders would have to take precedence right now. While Denning had inquired after Steve's health and seemed genuinely concerned, he'd also reminded the team of their priority of the moment.
As Danny glanced at his watch and was thinking about getting ready to say his farewell for the afternoon Steve began to frown and fidget again in the narrow hospital bed.
"You need some more water?" asked the compact detective halfway rising out of his chair.
Steve looking even more uncomfortable replied "No thanks, feel like I'm about to float away but . . . Danny, there's something I need to tell you"
Even though there was no one near, Steve had lowered his voice and Danny leaned in closer, curious as to what it could be.
"You know when you were joking around about Dave and me?"
"Yeah . . . ", responded the blonde suddenly sensing something was up. Something serious judging from Steve's lowered glance and restless movements.
"Well, I'm thinking maybe you were right." said the SEAL not quite looking his partner in the eye.
"Right? About what?" asked Danny
"I didn't tell you but Dave came by here yesterday and you know . . . umm . . . he's a really nice guy and we really hit it off and . . . umm . . . Cath's out of town so much and we don't see each other for such long periods and . . . umm.
Danny began to have a very uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He examined the man in the bed whose hands were now fidgeting with the edge of a blanket.
It suddenly dawned on him what was making Steve sound so uncharacteristically hesitant and nervous. "Wait, wait, wait!" exclaimed Danny, mouth dropping open, "Don't tell me you're seriously considering, I mean . . . you know . . . uhh, dating Dave for real?"
"Well, umm" Steve stammered on, "Like I said, he's a really nice guy . . . and . . . umm one thing led to another . . . and umm . . . "
Danny, swallowed loudly and stared silently at his partner for several long seconds before gathering himself and saying, "Steven, Babe, it's okay . . . like I didn't know you uhh swung that way but it's okay if you do. It doesn't matter to me but I'm really surprised . . . I mean, I had no idea. You . . . uhh . . . you're serious, right? You're not just messing with me?"
"It was really hard to tell you this Danny." said Steve, lowering his face to look at the bed as though embarrassed but in actuality he'd done it to keep from bursting into laughter and ruining it all. Danny's reaction was as expected.
"You're sure about this? I don't mean the orientation part but I mean you've thought this through?"
"Yeah, I have."
"What about Cath?"
"What do you mean?" asked Steve looking surprised at the question
"Well, I know you've never called her your girlfriend . . . Oh shit! Is this why? You could have told me you know!" said Danny, now sounding peeved at not being trusted with the information.
"I just . . . well, didn't know how you'd take it."
"Steven, now I am disappointed. We're brothers and I truly admire you for who you are. There's nothing that would make me think less of you. I have to admit this does kind of surprise me, well actually; maybe surprise isn't a strong enough word but I'll get over it."
"Well, I'm glad you're not upset. I was pretty worried about how you'd react." Steve was barely holding it together now. He hoped he didn't ruin it by exploding into laughter. He couldn't even look at Danny right now.
"What about Catherine? Have you told her?" asked the detective, noting that Steve was still too uncomfortable to look him in the eye. He had to be careful about this.
"Cath doesn't need to know." said Steve somewhat timidly
"What do you mean Cath doesn't need to know! Now, I am disappointed in you!" at that statement, Danny's hands began their dance.
"Maybe she would share?" ventured Steve, trying very, very, hard not to lose his composure and dissolve into an uncontrolled fit of laughter at an obviously flustered Danny who was trying his best to be supportive yet, touchingly, was worried about Catherine. Now Steve was feeling a little guilty at the deception. Oh well.
…
Kiki had just enough time to do her shot in front of the plastic tarp before a uniformed cop came to tell her to leave. At least this would make the five o'clock; maybe right behind the Macchiato update.
She thought they could have at least gotten that animated mannequin, Bob, to do this one. Having her do it would just cheapen the coverage of the murders. The same person reporting a vehicle vs. pedestrian right after covering the Island's biggest story of the year; well, that was just tacky.
Tapping her foot impatiently and smoothing her hair as she waited, her thoughts were: if all went according to plan, she'd be out of this Podunk town soon enough with maybe a stop in L.A. or Chicago first before moving on to a network job. It would come together soon. She just had to be patient – and make her own opportunities to shine.
…
As Danny walked across the hospital parking lot making his way back to where he'd left the Camaro the phone in his pocket emitted the standard, non-customized, ring tone for unfamiliar numbers.
Everyone he spoke to regularly had their own. Steve's of course is that cheeseball song 'Sexy Eyes' he unexplainably likes so much, (in light of his partner's startling revelation maybe he'd better change it), Rachel's varied according to the current level of hostility between himself and his ex. This week, it was the old Pat Benatar anthem 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot'. He'd let Gracie load her own ringtone to his phone. This week it was something he didn't recognize but it sounded like that Bieber kid.
"Detective Williams." he answered as he could hear the hollow sound of an open line.
"Danny?"
"Yes, who's this?" the female voice was familiar but distorted by electronic interference
"It's Catherine."
"Oh, sorry. Didn't recognize your voice. You must be calling from your ship? What's going on?"
"Danny . . . "
She sounded distressed. What the heck could it be?
"Cath what's wrong. Are you okay?"
"Danny, I think Steve's found someone else."
…..
The crime scene clean-up company had just arrived with their big truck and protective gear. It was only the big kahuna's blood – way too much of it - but procedure is procedure, thought Kamekona.
Kono had asked the big man if he could be here while the crew got to work sweeping up all the broken stuff and then supervise the removal of the large blood soaked area rug. As he settled himself at the dining room doorway in one of the few remaining unbroken chairs he shook his head at the mess.
Broken glass and china was everywhere. The pictures that had hung on the walls were down in the mess on the floor. Very few pieces of the dining room's furniture survived the battle. He watched as two burly men began to lift the cabinet that lay face down in the middle of it all. They struggled to tilt it upright and with several loud grunts and a heavy thud, it was once again settled vertically into place.
Kamekona looked on, entertained by someone else doing all the work for once. Though his bulk would refute it, the fact was the big man had been a hard worker all his life - much of it having been physical work. He was just going to sit and enjoy the show for now. To the annoyance of the toiling crew, the big man pointed out several stray bits of broken glass that had escaped the brooms and dustpans.
After several puncture proof plastic bags had been filled with debris, it was time to roll up the ruined floor covering. The cabinet had been set flat against the wall in anticipation of the removal of the big, expensive looking Oriental rug that was now damaged beyond repair.
It's a shame, thought Kamekona as he sat watching the clean-up crew, gen-u-wine Noritake china, lovely artwork, (or at least the frames around it), and an expensive looking rug all biting the big one at the same time. McGarrett's moms is gonna be really pissed when she comes back and sees this stuff gone.
Well, that was maybe she would. Maybe she didn't care. He couldn't tell with the woman; she wasn't like anyone else's mother he'd ever met; certainly not like his own. With a makuahine like that, no wonder the big kahuna is so pupule sometimes.
"Hey!" he heard someone exclaim as he looked to the corner of the room where the rug had just been pulled up, "There's a big pile of stuff back in this corner where the cabinet was. It was under the corner of the rug. Looks like maybe there's some jewelry in there."
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
NOTE: Understandably, there's some confusion over the sequencing of this story. In a previous chapter, Cujo and the bad guy had been hit by the car which necessitated the flashbacks leading up to the present chapter. Sorry for the mess but couldn't work my way out of it any other way. If you need further explanation please message me and I'll be happy to answer any questions. As always, reviews and comments would be much appreciated.