Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal
Chapter 27
Here's another. What kind of murder mystery has neither mystery nor murder? Will have to remedy that in the next chapter. This one is just to keep some of the 'other' mystery going. Hope you like it. Sincere thanks to those who took the time to comment on the last chapter. Know that your comments have continued to shape this story.
Imaginary Beta is no more accurate at proofing than she usually is and is still in a bad mood. Will have to throw a Snickers bar into her cage tonight.
Disclaimer: Some say money is the root of all evil huh? If that's the case then I must be absolutely saintly. Still make zero dinero from this.
*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*
Sounds Like a Plan
It had been another two days before Doc Trilling decided Five-0's fearless leader was okay enough to go home. Home being the operative word. She'd only released him on condition he wouldn't so much as walk any farther than bed to bath and threatened him with sending Nurse Bambi to wrestle him into submission if he tried to go anywhere else.
As Danny hurried down the hallway toward 622 the detective knew Steve was probably waiting for him with the patience of a puppy with a bad case of separation anxiety. As he entered the room he could also tell if it wasn't for Bambi, the man would actually have been waiting at the curb instead of ensconced in a wheelchair at the door of his room, belongings and paperwork in lap and both hands gripping the wheels ready for flight.
Danny grinned as the stern nurse gave her patient one last scolding; securing his promise to 'behave like a rational human being' and take it easy during his recuperation. Observing Steve's death-grip on the wheels of the chair she took the opportunity to remind him the only way he was leaving was with either she or Danny pushing him out to the parking lot.
Strangely, Steve quickly acquiesced and Danny rolled the impatient patient out to the pick-up/drop-off area to where the truck waited. The crutches were thrown into the bed and Danny helped Steve maneuver himself into the cab. So that Steve wouldn't have to struggle with getting in and out of the low-slung Camaro, he'd taken the Silverado to transport him home.
The twenty-minute ride had been mostly silent with Danny affably answering direct questions but not adding his usual running commentary about everything that annoyed him at the moment. It was a little disconcerting to not have to listen to Danny rail about everything from the weather to his partner's supposed lack of social grace it but it made the ride restful and the tall man immensely enjoyed the feeling of light and air as the big truck sped along the highway toward Pi'ikoi Street.
At this point, they could have been driving into a typhoon or a locust invasion – it didn't matter. Steve was just happy to be out of the claustrophobic confinement of the hospital room in which he'd spent nearly a week. Danny parked the big truck next to the Camaro that waited in the driveway. Steve actually had a smile on his face as he hobbled up the walk to his front porch.
His partner took the key from his hand and opened the door then stood well out of the way so that Steve could crutch his way through the entrance. He wasn't supposed to strain the still healing layers of muscle in his thigh. The incision on the inside of his leg pulled uncomfortably as he maneuvered toward the couch to carefully ease himself upon it.
Apparently, blood loss and kidney damage could make one feel a bit frail. Holding the crutches beside him he closed his eyes and laid his head back as he worked on catching his breath and losing the shaky feeling that seemed to plague him if he got too athletic. Not that walking up one's front steps and then six feet to a living room couch could be called athletic. Still, right now, he needed a bit of a breather.
"So, you need anything before I head back to the office?" asked Danny; trying to fight the instinct to hover around the invalid as he observed Steve's pale complexion and breathlessness. "Remember not to go anywhere other than from here to the kitchen or the head if there's no one with you."
Opening his eyes only to roll them as Steve looked back at his worried partner he answered, "No, thank you. I don't need anything and yes, I'll wait for either you or whoever to come back before I go upstairs. I'm just gonna take a nap here for now." He bent forward to lay down the crutches and slide them out of the way under edge of the sofa before laying himself down on the leather cushions and gingerly stretching his leg out.
"Kono left you some soup in the fridge. Just pop it into the microwave when you're hungry. There's also some of that tree bark bread you like to go with it."
"Thanks, I will. Is it her mom's chicken soup?" he asked hopefully. (Mrs. Kalakaua makes the best soup this side of Stella Williams' Italian wedding soup).
"Yeah it is." confirmed the blonde, "Sorry but I had to sample it . . . well, actually, we all had to sample it . . . but there's enough left for your lunch." he smiled.
"Thanks for leaving enough for the sick guy." smiled Steve, "Really appreciate it."
"Quit whining Steven. It's unbecoming and I've got a daughter who can out-whine you any day of the week so I'm immune." mock scolded his partner, "Besides, Angie's gonna make you some of mom's soup later. I'm sure there'll be gallons of it. She's using the Stella Galluzzi-Williams recipe that makes enough to feed the entire island of Sicily including the American branch of the Corleones. Angie's at the grocery store as we speak, buying about forty pounds of ground meat and another twenty or so of parmesan and parsley."
"Tell her not to change any plans to have a good time on her vacation. I'm sure she can find something more fun to do than make soup for me."
"If I don't let her come and make soup for you, I'll just have to listen to her bitch about my not taking care of my family when they need some TLC. Not worth it."
"I never thought I'd hear you admit that you can be out-bitched by anybody." smiled Steve
"Are you calling me a bitch?" asked Danny maybe a bit more crossly than called for.
"What? No!" replied Steve, confused at his partner's reaction to the teasing that usually went on between them.
"Just checking." huffed Danny.
"What's got your boxers in a bundle?" asked Steve, puzzled at the reaction to what he considered a mostly innocent remark.
"You don't know?"
"I wouldn't ask if I knew." replied Steve now exasperated with the game
"Never mind. It's nothing. Do – Not - attempt the stairs until you have someone here with you, capiche?"
"Ookay." said Steve still mystified by Danny's reaction
"See you later. Angie'll be here in about another half-hour. Get some rest."
With that, Danny walked out the door making sure it was locked behind him and grinning broadly as he made his way toward the Camaro.
Bitch huh. Well, that's exactly what payback is.
….
Pat Charteris had just finished her last cautious examination of her most difficult patient. It looked like he could go home possibly tonight or tomorrow. She knew, though Janet and Joanie would miss the chocolates, they were more than ready for what may be their all-time-most-difficult patient to return to duty. Even that cranky Rottweiler with the bad tooth they had here a couple months ago wasn't as destructive to their well-being.
She mused, not for the first time in her career, about the resiliency of felines. Not being of 'pack' mentality, they seemed to do their best to hide any vulnerability that might make them seem weak enough to be prey to other predators.
Cujo was a supreme example of feline self-sufficiency. Without the sedatives, she was sure he'd have been out of his cage and out the door the day after surgery. To say the least, the little bundle of attitude had certainly livened up the place.
The story of how he'd been injured was sure to become legend. There'd even been phone calls from people who'd seen the brief news report on the traffic fatality that day. One of the local stations had mentioned almost as a sidebar that witnesses had reported that along with the deceased, a cat had been hit by the same car. People had somehow tracked him down and the clinic had fielded several inquiries as to his well-being; some even offering to adopt him. She chuckled at that thought, If only they knew.
With social networking and the close community of animal lovers who availed themselves of it, the fierce little animal would surely have an online following sometime soon if he didn't already.
She could hear the cat howling unhappily moments after he'd been returned to his cage.
That little shithead has the voice of Satan, she thought as she went toward the next exam room which contained one of her regular patients; a sweet-natured Persian long hair named Zsa Zsa who was here for her shots. "At least I don't need a whip and a chair for this one", she muttered aloud as she opened the door to the room.
Even through the closed door, Cujo's voice soared above all of the barks and whines and howls and yowls of the animals distressed by the ominous vocalization. She certainly wasn't going to miss that sound . . . or the need for extra antiseptic and bandages for her techs.
Screw the chocolates; Janet and Joanie deserved a damned raise after this stay, was her thought as she smiled maybe a little too tightly at Zsa Zsa's owner.
….
Dave Matsui reached toward the phone and then withdrew his hand for a moment before finally grasping it to dial. He was a little unsure of this whole thing. He knew he probably shouldn't have agreed to help but the guy is just so damned cute! McGarrett's partner was cute too but Dave had never had a thing for blondes. Besides, Danny was just too buttoned-down.
Steve seemed to lack a certain self-awareness that just made him kind of, well - for lack of a better word – sweet. Coupled with the 'dangerous' vibe; that and the tattoos and maybe the eyelashes and the muscles . . . well . . . the guy was like fucking catnip. Sadly contemplating what would never be his, he sighed loudly as he came back to the present, dialed the number and waited for the detective to pick-up.
"Detective Williams" he heard
"Danny? This is Dave Matsui. Is Steve around?"
"No, Dave. He's still recuperating at home. Can I give him a message?"
"Tell him the flowers were really nice and uhh . . . never mind . . . I'll just give him a ring there."
Danny smiled, he'd play along; "You want the number?"
"No, I've got it. Thanks Danny."
"Uhh, sure, of course. Talk to you later."
Danny set down the phone and leaned back in his chair, its springs creaking as it tilted back until he was nearly reclined in it. Folding his hands over his stomach and narrowing his eyes while he chewed his lips, he contemplated his next move. That conversation just totally confirmed it was a prank. SuperSEAL sending someone flowers? Not unless it was a bouquet interspersed with dynamite sticks, grenades and ammo clips. Actually, Cath may like that sort of thing now that he thought about it.
He knew Angie was right. Cath and Dave are in on it. Leave it to his goofy partner to charm others into his scheme.
He waited for Angie's call.
….
Cujo growled warningly at the hand that reached toward him. The hand withdrew after leaving a dish of something that didn't taste even remotely like mouse. He turned his head disinterestedly away from it and closed his eyes.
He thought his human would take him away from here when he came to see him but it didn't happen.
Why didn't the tall man take him with? Is this where he is supposed to stay now? Is he ever going to get back to the place with the shiny ground and lots of places to nap?
Maybe his human didn't want him anymore. He lay his head back down and closed his eyes. He felt tired and something else he hadn't ever felt before. He didn't know what this feeling was. He didn't know if he would never go home again.
….
She knew he'd told Steve to expect her. Angela unlocked the door with the key Danny had given her. Since Steve would be by himself for only a few minutes, her brother told her he wasn't going to set the alarm when he left, adding that it hadn't been of much help anyway when Steve had been ambushed in his dining room.
Pushing the door halfway open and leaning in "Steve?" she called out, not wanting to startle the recuperating man into any sudden moves like maybe going for a gun. That wouldn't work out all that well for anyone.
"Hey!" She heard from the cool dimness within and looked toward the couch to the left of the doorway.
"Howya doin' bro? So, what's this about nearly being killed by a china cabinet?" she grinned as her eyes adjusted and she spotted Steve grinning back at her from the sofa.
Picking up the grocery sacks she'd set just outside the doorway, she entered to set them on the coffee table beside the smiling but still reclined man.
"You look like shit babe." she announced as she stood surveying her adopted brother who was now wincing as he struggled to sit up.
"Nice to see you too." he chuckled as she reached forward to put a hand under his arm to help him upright. He'd missed her blunt sense of humor. She was like Danny only female, taller and better looking.
Once she was sure he was comfortable, she plopped herself next to him and gave him a careful hug.
"You doin' better? Danny told me what happened."
"Yeah, lots better. Just can't move around too much yet." he assured her with a smile
"Well, can't say I'm not happy to see your ass, no matter how battered it may be. Danny wants me to make sure you stay put until he gets here. Says you're not supposed to climb any stairs until there's two of us here and maybe a forklift. Says to tell you to lay off the donuts." she smiled though, in her opinion, Steve could still use a few more pounds on him. After all, she is her mother's daughter. If her mom saw him right now, she'd be stuffing him like a Christmas goose as she'd tried to do last year in Jersey.
"The hell with the donuts Ange. I'm looking forward to that Italian wedding soup you're supposed to be making."
"Just as long as you appreciate the effort. You know I don't get this domestic on a regular basis. I only let my inner Julia Child come out for special occasions. You know, like holidays or feeding starving invalids and orphans but, come to think of it, screw the orphans – I only got so much domesticity in me."
"I'll try not to abuse the privilege." laughed Steve
"Fuckin' A" said Angela as she stood to haul the groceries to the kitchen.
"Need some help?" he asked though he already knew the answer.
"Nah, gotta get back into my groove with the cooking thing and I think you've got enough problems hauling your own ass around let alone a bagful of groceries".
"I still have wonderful memories of those meals at your parent's house. I know you did some of the cooking." said Steve as he watched Angela easily grab up the four heavy grocery bags from where she'd set them on the coffee table and turn toward the kitchen.
"Haven't done much cooking since Nadine and I split and I lived at home with Mom and Dad for all those months. I swear I gained ten pounds just breathing the air in her kitchen."
He retrieved his crutches from under the couch; using them to haul himself to a standing position. Balancing himself on one leg, he grimaced as his thigh reacted to the change in position. For a moment he could feel the sharp stab of pain in time to each beat of his heart before the feeling faded.
"You okay?" asked Angie pausing in concern as she watched Steve's struggle to become upright; his face tightening as though it hurt to do so.
"Yeah, I'm good." he let out a breath as the feeling faded. "Maybe I should take another hit of pain medication though. Danny said the next one is due at twelve-hundred hours. What time is it now?"
"It's almost thirteen hundred. Wait, Danny used military time?" she asked in surprise
"Just to humor me. I know he's only trying to be nice while I'm still sick."
"Maybe so." she nodded in agreement. Danny had always bitched about Steve using 'Army time' instead telling time like 'normal people'. "Come sit and talk to me while I get that soup going. You want something to eat?"
"There's supposed to be some of Kono's chicken soup in the fridge. Why don't we heat that up and we can catch up with one another while we eat lunch."
"Sounds like a plan bro." She led the way to the kitchen with Steve hobbling slowly behind her.
They sat chatting and laughing. The pain pills took the edge off and allowed him to relax as they sat enjoying the meal and each other's company. He really liked the woman. She was a little rough around the edges sometimes but nowhere near as abrasive as his partner could be at times. She was like all the good parts of Danny with maybe a little bit of Cath thrown in. Like Cath she was dark-haired and had a clean sort of beauty that needed no enhancement. Her hazel-brown eyes sparkled as they laughed their way through the meal.
"I hear Danny's already got you set-up with someone?" he inquired as he broke off a piece of the dense molasses bread he knew his partner had made a special trip to the health food store to purchase.
"Yeah. All I know so far is that her name is Talia and she's a redhead. You know her?"
"I've met her. She's very attractive and seems nice. She's a camerawoman at one of the local T.V. stations; KAEO I think. Danny did good." he smiled
"Yeah, sounds like. I just wish he could do as well for himself." she said dipping her spoon into her soup bowl and stirring the broth in a sort of aimless gesture.
"It's not that he doesn't try." smiled Steve as he chased a spoonful of soup with a bite of bread.
"I'm just afraid he's never gonna find 'the one', you know. Rachel screwed him over big time when they split but I can sort of understand why she left."
"Danny told me said she couldn't handle the life of being a cop's wife; the worry that something might happen and he might never come home again." said Steve, not without a pang of sadness for his friend.
Lieutenant Angela Williams nodded her head in solemn agreement. That issue was supposedly one of the reasons Nadine had sought comfort in someone else's embrace. At least Rachel hadn't done that.
The dark-haired woman seemed to shift uncomfortably in her chair as she continued to row the spoon aimlessly through her soup. "Well, that and the other thing." she sighed.
The trap was now set.
"Other thing?" asked Steve, curiosity piqued
"He never told you?"
"Told me what?"
"Maybe I'll just leave it to him to tell you." she said, suddenly interested once again in her lunch.
What could it possibly be? thought Steve. "He never mentioned any other issues with Rachel. Said if it wasn't for that one they'd never have split up?"
"I'd be talking out of turn if I told you. It sure made a mess though." said Angela doing her best to sound reluctant yet sound like she really wanted to spill. I should get a fucking Oscar for this performance! she thought.
Now, Steve was afire with the need to know. What was this 'other thing' his partner had never told him?
Seeing Steve's obvious interest in the big secret, Angie almost lost it, ducking her head as though in a display of reluctance. Danny is right; SuperSEAL is just too easy a target. The guy looked about to combust with the need to know about 'the other thing'.
"Is it something I can help with?" he asked convinced it wasn't only his curiosity that prompted the question.
"Well . . . , I'm just not sure how you'd feel about it. You know; if your opinion would change about Danny if I told you."
"There's nothing anyone could tell me about Danny that would change my opinion that he's one of the bravest, most honest and caring men I've met in my entire life. He's my brother." said Steve with every ounce of sincerity in him.
Angela almost put a stop to this stupid game right then and there but she'd promised to help Danny. Now her hesitation was real. She leaned forward as Steve did the same voicing, "I just want to help."
As her brother predicted, Steve practically galloped full-tilt into the trap. Now her conscience was really bothering her.
She sighed heavily once more as though having made up her mind and then began . . .
*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*
Thanks to JazzieG who provided the name of the Persian cat.
My conscience is bothering me as well. I think maybe I'm being too mean to Steve. Your comments would be most welcome.