Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal
Chapter 26
Here's another long one. Hope you like it and that it makes sense. Several references to people and events from Cujo II in this chapter but it's still not necessary to read it first. Reviews would be most welcome.
Imaginary Beta did her pathetic best but you know how she is. She's also a bit cranky right now because we've cut back on her chocolate. What a witch! Even the ninja cats temporarily headed for the hills last night!
Disclaimer: If money was made from this, two overly clingy felines would be off to a nice warm place so they wouldn't feel the need to glue themselves to lap or keyboard. Will have to duct tape T.V. remote to one of them to get husband to cooperate as pet bed while I try to write.
*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*
Escapes and Evasions
Kamekona solemnly deposited the plastic grocery sack on Kono's desk.
It held treasure.
"Here's da popoki's stash. Looks like some pretty interesting stuff." said the big man with a suggestively raised eyebrow
Her face showing curiosity and maybe a bit of trepidation Kono dumped the contents of the plastic grocery bag onto her desk blotter. Various things clinked and clunked as they landed on the desk top. There were several pieces of costume jewelry, crumpled grocery receipts, a tie she recognized as one of Danny's favorites, (with obvious chewed places in it), Steve's watch, several beer bottle caps, plastic rings from milk jugs, a crumbled fortune cookie still in its wrapper, hair barrettes, pens, part of a Barbie doll, (just the head), coins, what looked to be a pair of ladies' lacy thong underwear and a brass shell casing.
Kono knew the jewelry was Doris's and she sincerely hoped the thong was Catherine's. She couldn't quite reconcile the fact that Steve's mom may wear something like that. The woman was certainly attractive and single but still . . . the woman is her boss's mother!
"Wow, what an assortment." she exclaimed, gingerly picking Steve's watch from the pile.
"Looks like da popoki was saving up for tough times." smiled Kamekona
"Yeah, I guess a cat never knows when it's gonna need lace underwear and a diver's watch." replied Kono genuinely puzzled as she surveyed Cujo's purloined booty.
Picking up the bedraggled tie she wondered if she should just dispose of it and not tell Danny. The haole and the cat already had enough issues with one another.
It was quite a motley collection and must have taken quite awhile to gather it all. Some of it was certainly puzzling. She could understand the sparkly things and the crackly things and maybe even things that would be easy to skitter across a floor with a bit of a push but some of this stuff? Her eyes widened as it suddenly occurred to her that Cujo is most likely the sneak thief who'd been taking all the odd little things from around the office like Chin's comb and her pen and . . . the thumb drive!
Crap!
She had some investigating of her own to do. She had to find the little klepto's stash before anyone else, (like her teammates), ran across it!
"Uhh thanks for bringing this stuff to me big guy and for doing the favor of supervising the clean-up crew. I'll make sure everything gets back to its owners.
"Jus let me know if you can't find a home for the uhh lingerie." said Kamekona with another waggle of his brow.
"Eeew!" replied Kono actually making the big guy blush. "I can't believe you said that."
"I jus mean sumting like dat has to have a story behind it. Would love to hear what it might be when da big kahuna gets better."
"Yeah, I don't think Steve's ever going to actually tell anyone that story if it doesn't belong to his girl. So don't get your hopes up."
"One can always hope." smiled Kamekona as he cruised majestically out the doorway.
Okay, now where would Cujo hide his office stash? She asked herself, trying to think like a cat - or whatever one would consider Cujo. Danny said he wasn't a cat but 'evil made flesh' to torment the living. Whatever . . .
She just had to find that thumb drive before the guys got hold of it. She'd never live it down.
…
Danny waited anxiously at the baggage carousel for Angela; hoping to spot her dark unruly mane as she came to claim her things from the assortment of luggage yet to spill out onto the conveyor belt. The visit had been a bit of a surprise when she'd called him all excited a couple of weeks ago to tell him she'd won a trip to Hawaii from a radio call-in promo. He didn't even criticize her for recognizing an Eminem song.
Not that he didn't like rap - he just wouldn't admit it. At least not to Steve who still seemed to be lost somewhere in the 80's despite Danny's best efforts to initiate him into the classics produced by Bon Jovi and Springsteen; a definite step-up from those hair bands. Not for the first time, the detective thought Steve is lucky he's good-looking because his social skills are borderline disaster. Who the hell takes a woman to the Army/Navy surplus store to get her a birthday gift? The guy's an animal.
That brought his thoughts again to the Steve-Cath-Dave dilemma. He'd tried really hard to not confirm to Catherine the Neanderthal had indeed found someone else and as for the idiot putting forth the idea that Cath might be willing to 'share' . . . well, that was just wishful thinking on Steve's part. He was pretty sure Cath did not share.
How did Steve even hide this part of himself from someone who spent more time with him than a spouse? He still wasn't totally convinced he wasn't being played but Steve certainly seemed sincere when he'd told him of what he'd been considering and Cath seemed genuinely upset during that phone call.
And I thought 'Days of Our Lives' is a soap opera! muttered the haole detective as he waited for his sister to appear.
Spotting the wild mass of curls that could only be Angie's he waved to her. She waved back as she walked up to the other side of the circular conveyor whose chute began spewing forth Samsonite just as she arrived. Quickly spotting her bag, she hefted what looked to be a steamer-trunk-sized suitcase from the carousel. He knew better than to offer to carry it for her. Like their own Kono, Angie is a woman who insisted on carrying her own weight in all ways. And like Kono, she definitely kicked ass. She'd been promoted to lieutenant last year at NPD and it still bothered him a bit that he'd been outranked by his younger sister.
The airport was crowded; this being nearly the busiest part of the island's perpetual tourist season. They fought their way toward each other, dodging around pale-skinned travelers sporting leis and goofy smiles who were profoundly happy to be in the land of SPF-100 and Mai Tais.
He was glad Mary was no longer a flight attendant and had gone back to the mainland to resume her chaotic life with her ne'er-do-well boyfriend. The chances of running into her in the airport were pretty much nil. Steve hadn't wanted anyone to tell his wild-child sister of his latest hospitalization; not wanting to worry her unnecessarily. There was nothing she could do about it in any case.
Months ago, when Mary had called his partner in tears to say she was on her way to Honolulu to get away from her dickhead boyfriend and would be staying for a while, Danny had to keep Steve from getting on a plane to go beat the crap outta the guy. It had been on her flight here that Mary had struck up a conversation with Angie who was transporting Cujo home from Jersey. They'd begun dating one another a week later.
It seemed as soon as she and Angela's 'thing' had gone pfft, she'd gone immediately back to the jerk she'd had arrested for battery when they lived together. Go figure.
On Angie's part it had probably just been a 'rebound' thing from her recent breakup with her longtime partner Nadine. That Mary had been a disaster wasn't actually all that much of a surprise to anyone who knew her - the woman wasn't the most stable of people. From his and his sister's most recent long distance conversations, it seemed Angie was over her anyway. Poor Angie, she just couldn't seem to make it work with anyone. He hoped he'd done the right thing by setting her up with Talia. Anyway, what was it with these McGarretts? Couldn't they even make up their minds as to which side of the sexual fence they're on when choosing mates?
He closed his eyes as he engulfed his sister in a welcoming embrace. It felt good to actually hug a Williams again – you know someone from the sane part of the planet.
"Hey bro! It's so good to see you!" greeted the dark-haired woman as she returned his hug with a fierceness that nearly crushed him.
"Same here Ange! Bet you're glad to leave Newark behind for a few days huh?"
"Don't know. Was just gettin' used to those winter hours again; you know, havin' to get up an hour early to dig my car out of the snow so I could get to work." she smiled
"Good times." he replied "Sure miss 'em."
"Yeah, I bet." she frowned in mock seriousness at her beloved older and shorter sibling.
"Hey, where's my other brother? You guys finally get a divorce? Oh, that came out a little weird didn't it? That would imply something totally wrong, eeww."
Danny winced. Boy, did they have something to discuss.
….
Finally having gotten rid of Mickey she was just finishing her usual preparations before she left for the station. Having completed her usual meticulous application of cosmetics and the careful styling of her dark, glossy, hair she was almost ready to leave.
There was just a small extra step today. Standing on tiptoe she pushed aside several of what seemed dozens of shoeboxes that filled most of this one closet in her guest room. Thank goodness she had the big walk-in in the master bedroom in which to keep her wardrobe. Pulling the box with the Manolo Blahnik label off the shelf and setting it on the bed she removed the lid and took out the gun to wipe it down one last time. It was time to start producing 'things' the murderer had sent to her.
She smiled as she ran the cloth over the nickel-plated weapon. It had such a nice feel to its cool smooth surface. That first killing had been such a rush! She hadn't felt bad at all when she'd pulled the trigger and watched the surprised look on the girl's face as she fell backward onto the floor. It didn't even disturb her when all that blood began to blossom out around the young barista's head. Ending a life didn't bother her in the least. It was only the thought she could get caught that had given her pause.
Anyway, it had all worked out. Funny how the planets aligned on this one, she crooned to herself as she plucked another box from the shelf, this one with actual shoes in it to slip them on.
What had started out as only a vague plan had taken shape after a few conversations with that little squirrel Timmons; their 'issues' and ambitions had dove-tailed perfectly. Whatever came up now could all be blamed on him. Even if they could prove she and Timmons knew each other there was still nothing to tie them together as far as the murders went. They'd never even connect her to that nut case unless they did some real digging. She didn't plan to give them any cause to do so.
She'd used her real name when enrolling in that court-ordered anger management class and hadn't bothered to put on any make-up when she attended the sessions. She'd just tied back her hair and wore glasses instead of her contacts. She knew make-up made such a difference in one's appearance. Without it, she certainly wasn't the Kiki Kenworthy of local television fame. She'd always hated her real name. It just reminded her of that flat, dusty, nowhere place she'd come from; its water tower the tallest structure in town and its buildings never higher than two stories. The narrow streets and even narrower-minded and directionless population were only an unpleasant memory now. With hard work and ambition she'd managed to escape it. She'd needed a new name for her new life. Kiki Kenworthy was so much catchier than Clara Ann Rucker. She hoped she'd never hear someone snigger 'Mother Rucker' behind her back ever again. Those kids she grew up with were sophomoric imbeciles.
She was her own invention. A pretty damned good one, if she said so herself. She stood looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the closet door; pleased with what she saw. She knew she could get almost any man to do her bidding with just a smoldering look. She ran her blood red nails through her hair one last time and straightened the lapels on her tailored blazer. It was a turquoise one today and nearly matched her eyes. Perfect.
Bundling up the gun in her late accomplice's small nylon bag, she tucked it under her arm to carry it out to her car. If she was lucky, she could keep this going for another month or two. By that time they'd surely recognize her journalistic genius. Having the 'Macchiato Murderer' actually send her some of the items used to commit the crimes would just cement her insider status. She'd killed that first one but Timmons had made it so much more dramatic with the throat cutting on the subsequent murders and she didn't even have to get her hands dirty. In a couple more days, she'd produce a knife without any prints but with traces of DNA from the second set of victims. It would be a spectacular scoop. She could hardly wait.
….
Steve lay staring at the television impatiently. It was time to get out of here. He'd had enough of being poked and prodded and stabbed and drugged. Though he was still a bit wobbly, it was time to make a break for it.
Bambi would be off duty in another hour. He knew his plan for escape would be successful if he just waited for her to leave. First thing he wanted to do was to go see Cujo. He'd managed to get a call through to Pat Charteris and she'd assured him the fractious animal was doing well but was getting even harder to handle the better he felt. She'd asked Steve if he could maybe make a visit to see if it would calm down the little shithea . . . patient of hers. He assured her he would be stopping bye very soon. He just had to attend to a couple of 'things' before he could get there. He neglected to tell her the 'things' were: one - evasion of the dreaded Nurse Bambi and two - escape from Queen's Hospital.
The veterinarian expressed her happiness that he was feeling better and that she looked forward to seeing him soon. He smiled as he hung up the phone. Now, just a few more minutes and freedom would be his.
…
She knew he would be 'going over the wall' the first chance he got. She could see the restlessness return as his health improved. He'd refused to use the walker and had insisted on taking up the crutches he shouldn't yet be using. The effects of the pain medication seemed to further the stubborn man's oblivion to just how damaged he'd been and how it was so not a good idea to go wandering about the hallways. She knew, just like last time, ready or not, he was going to make a break for it. She was prepared.
She'd very well known that, besides making him stupid, the meds would definitely slow him down. He wasn't going anywhere in a hurry no matter how badly he wanted out. McGarrett was a sitting, (err make that a hobbling), duck.
She even waited in the same place as last time, coffee beside her and a magazine in her lap. She had nothing else to do at the moment. Since her son had died, there wasn't much to occupy her time other than the volunteer work at the shelter. She'd come to have a soft spot for this most stubborn of patients. He reminded her of someone she'd lost and felt it was her duty to keep him safe – even if only from himself.
About twenty minutes after the official end of her shift and the beginning of her vigil her patience was rewarded. She saw a familiar dark head lean forward to peer cautiously out of the elevator door before the appearance of two crutches and then the rest of an athletic body as her charge made his way slowly across the lobby.
Time for a round-up, she said to herself as she rose from the comfy chair.
"Going somewhere?" he heard from a familiar voice behind him
Shit!
"Oh . . . uhh . . . just for a short walk." he managed to croak out as he felt his face flush. He turned carefully toward her. He wasn't all that steady yet on the crutches and falling on his ass would most definitely and abruptly end this attempt to gain freedom. How the hell did she even know?
"Uh huh." she said dryly, "Does this walk include a visit to Five-0 headquarters or maybe a stroll to a crime scene? Maybe it includes an appearance at a veterinary hospital?" Her steely-eyed glare seemed to bore right through him and he almost cringed at its fierceness.
"Well . . . uhh . . . I . . . uhh". He had nothing. He may as well just surrender and face the consequences. He wondered if he'd ever see daylight again.
"Okay, Commander. Tell you what. We're gonna go for a short drive. I will allow you to visit that creature you call a cat for five minutes then you will get your scrawny ass back here and back into bed. Got it?"
He smiled a big drug-addled smile and nodded his head enthusiastically. Even that small movement made him splay out the crutches to keep his balance like the legs of the cartoon deer, (for which the nurse was so incongruously named), in the scene where it tried to stand on an iced-over pond.
"And if you dare tell anyone that I went along with your so-called escape attempt; I will make sure you are sedated, tied to your bed and that you will once again have to endure a Foley. Got that?"
She could almost see him pale as he realized she was serious about the consequences. She knew he wouldn't be giving her any more trouble for the foreseeable future.
"Thanks Bambi. I knew deep down you were a softie." he said while looking sufficiently contrite
"Just don't tell anyone. It's bad for my rep." she barked as she took his arm to steady him as he hobbled toward where her car waited.
…..
As they sat enjoying garlic shrimp at the picnic table near Kamekona's truck, Angela and her brother caught up on the latest goings on of the Williams family: Anthony was thinking of opening his own restaurant and was busy getting together some backing to do so, Anna Marie's new bundle of joy was growing like a weed, Andrew having finally gotten the vasectomy had stopped at six kids one of which, the hyperactive Daniel, had managed somehow to paint the dog . . .
"He painted the dog?" repeated Danny nearly choking on a french fry at word of the latest adventure of his namesake.
"Yeah, the stupid mutt just stood there and let the little brat slap blue paint all over him. He's just lucky Dad found an even-tempered animal at the shelter to replace Freckles. I bet Cujo wouldn't stand for anything like that." she laughed
"You got that right." said Danny rolling his eyes. "That kid woulda been lunch for the Spawn of Satan. I'm still surprised Cujo didn't kill and eat him last year in Jersey when he had the chance."
"Yeah, but that cat could do no wrong in Mom's and Dad's eyes since he rescued Daniel from the neighbor's dog. I think they fed him steak every night after that while he was there."
"Yeah, when we finally got him home Cujo wouldn't even eat cat food. I think Steve finally resorted to buying him hamburgers for a while. I told him the cat wasn't stupid enough to starve himself to death but you know Steven . . . speaking of whom."
"Yeah, where is he?" asked Angela as she bit into a large juicy shrimp, savoring its garlicky flavor and the soft breeze off the bay while the sun soaked into her Jersey pale skin.
"He's in the hospital . . . again."
"Hospital!" said Angela in alarm, "Why didn't you tell us!"
"He's gonna be okay if he sits still long enough to recuperate."
"Like that's gonna happen." snorted the dark haired woman. Danny explained how his partner had wound up in the hospital 'this time', making it sound as though Steve actually had some part in managing to nearly bleed to death on his dining room floor. Angie knew of Danny's propensity for 'enhancing' a story at times so she knew it was nothing Steve had actually caused to happen. It sounded frightening none-the-less and she wanted to go visit him as soon as possible. She was a bit miffed that Danny hadn't told her sooner of her adopted brother's injury but he assured her of Steve's prognosis for a full recovery by gleefully describing his situation.
"Well, so far, we've got one very, very, mean nurse keeping him in line. He hasn't been able to escape her yet. I think I'm gonna ask the governor if we can hire her to, you know, ride herd on our hyperactive asshole brother."
"Aww, come on Danny. Give the guy a break. You know you'd miss all that energy if someone put a permanent damper on it." she smiled, aware of her brother's and honorary/adopted brother's sometimes contentious relationship.
"Yeah, I suppose I would." reluctantly admitted the man across from her as he played with the last shrimp on his plate, pushing it around with the plastic fork through the now congealing sauce. Sighing loudly, he blurted "Ange, there's something that's come up with him that I'm pretty much at a loss as to how to handle."
"What's that?" asked his sister, alarmed at what could be so obviously disturbing to her brother.
"I don't know who else to ask about it and since you're, you know, familiar with the lifestyle . . . maybe you can uhh . . . help me sort this out?"
Angela's brow knitted in puzzlement. What the hell?
…
He heard the latch on the metal box open. He got ready to spring out of it. The last couple of times hadn't worked out so well. They'd just picked him up and then he felt a funny feeling in his leg and then he got really sleepy. When he woke up again he was back in the box. He had to try again to get away. He bunched his muscles in preparation.
"Hey buddy." he heard a familiar voice.
His human was here!
With a hoarse chirp, he joyously greeted the tall man as large strong hands scooped him up. He couldn't help it. The rumbling sound came out of him as he tried to peer into his human's face despite the thing still around his neck.
"Poor guy. They put the cone of shame on you again huh?" came the deep soothing voice as he felt a hand stroke along his back.
"Too bad they don't have one in your size." came a female's voice. One he didn't recognize. "Five minutes Commander then we're on our way back to the hospital."
"Yes ma'am."
…..
"Danny, you're being played." laughed Angela as she looked across the table at her flustered brother.
"I don't know Ange, he really seemed sincere." replied the blonde, sounding at a loss as to how to handle the situation.
"Babe, trust me. If that guy is anything but straight, then I'm gonna run for Miss Newark. You'll see me up there on the news in a bathing suit with a ribbon across my chest. Maybe a crown too 'cause you know I would win."
Danny laughed aloud at the thought of his tougher than leather sister doing any such thing. Not that she wasn't beautiful mind you but he remembered the struggle to even get her to wear a dress to his high school prom as his date when Diana Ciccetti bailed on him with that supposed migraine.
"I know that people sometimes just aren't all that sure what their . . . leanings are." ventured Danny
"Trust me Danny. Steve's messing with you." she smiled finally grabbing the last lone shrimp off her brother's plate and popping it into her mouth before closing her eyes and humming in pleasure.
"But Cath . . . she sounded so hurt." said Danny still distressed at that phone call with Steve's not-my-girlfriend.
"They've been together how long?" asked Angela as she licked the last of the garlic sauce off her fingers.
"Years."
"He's got her in on the prank. From what he told me last year during your visit, she's the only one for him. I don't know if he's ever going to admit it to her; the guy's totally fucked-up but there's no way he'd cheat on her . . . with anyone." she confidently announced
Danny looked at her uncertainly. If Steve had been telling the truth, he was obligated to support him as a brother should. If Steve was fucking with him . . . all bets are off."
"You're really sure about him?" he asked, eyes now narrowing at the fact he may have been played.
"As sure as I know that I'd be on the next flight to Hollywood if Catherine-Zeta-Jones winked in my direction." she answered with a smile.
Taking in all they'd discussed and coming to the conclusion his little sister was right and that Steve was indeed fucking with him, he leaned across the table conspiratorially and said with an evil glint in pale blue eyes, "Ange, wanna help me get even?"
*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*
Thank you to FlamMabel, Miahbug, Runner043 and maggiemcgarrett who made excellent suggestions as to what they'd like to see in Cujo's stash and other things. As always, would love to hear your opinion of this chapter. Am still a very, very, cheap date.