Cujo III Reloaded – This Time It's Personal
Chapter 29
Guess I must have surprised us all when it didn't take two weeks to post this update. Your comments and ideas have been invaluable in the writing of this tale and I thank you for them. I hope this lives up to the expectations. Let me know if it disappoints.
As usual, there's a lot of coarse language and name calling but its how some people express themselves, (myself included sometimes to husband's dismay though ninja cats don't seem to mind). Imaginary Beta wasn't fazed any more than usual and did her standard and not very accurate proofing job.
Disclaimer: Since no money is made from this, that mouse ranch I promised has been on hold for quite a while. I think ninja cats are becoming skeptical.
*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*
A Few Serious Miscalculations
Kiki basked in the spotlight. Currently appearing in almost every local print publication of significance, she was also the darling of the local television outlets. She'd even been contacted for interviews by a couple of the national networks.
Applying one more coat of gloss to her already impossibly shiny, blood-red, lips, she stood to make her way to the set. Even if she wasn't the one conducting the interview, at least she was on the panel. She relished the idea of appearing as the hard-hitting reporter to whom the murderer apparently has decided to send evidence. She also gets to grill the law enforcement entities on their lack of progress in the Macchiato Murders.
It's too bad the governor's special task force won't have anyone there. Being one man down, they couldn't spare anyone to come speak for them. Too bad. She'd have liked to rake them over the coals to point out the lack of progress in finding the culprit. Too bad too about McGarrett who was still recovering from that 'mysterious' attack. Timmons sure screwed that one up. Five 0's leader should be dead right now. Well, she'd let it slide for the moment. At least he was out of commission for the time being and wouldn't be annoying her any time soon.
As for Williams, she'd been sure the cute blonde would have called her by now. He'd certainly looked interested though she'd spotted him talking to Talia. She hoped that little dyke hadn't said anything to discourage him. She's another one who would get what's coming to her someday. She'd be on the list of people to be taken care of when the time was right.
She stood at the edge of the set as the lights were adjusted so the station's regular anchorwoman wouldn't be seen in too harsh a glare. In her opinion, if they put any more gauze over the lens to blur the woman's wrinkles it would look as though they were broadcasting from the middle of a damned fog bank. Sure, the woman was smart and had impeccable credentials and years of experience and held numerous journalism awards – so what.
When people see the gorgeous and dynamic Kiki Kenworthy next to that long-in-the-tooth bitch, they'll certainly realize new blood is needed.
New blood. She smiled at her own private joke. It was blood that had gotten her here and blood that will propel her into the broadcasting elite. She took her place on the set as an assistant adjusted her mike.
Life is good.
….
Phil Brotman swore under his breath as his fingers tapped out 'Prius hybrid - light blue' filling in the make and model blank on the incident report. Still to come was the description of how the driver of the Prius had eluded capture, (at least until he'd been flattened by a bus full of tourists), and the rest of the whole debacle.
He struggled to come up with a plausible explanation as to how a friggin' cat had escaped his custody which ultimately occasioned the demise of one Andrew Timmons the hit and run driver and suspect in the attempted murder of one Commander Steven McGarrett, head of the governor's special task force.
Hitting the backspace key to delete the last few sentences and take another stab at it, Brotman blew out a frustrated breath. Besides not working out all that well for Timmons, the detective just knows he's going to be the butt of way too many jokes around the station for weeks to come. Someone had already vandalized his personalized coffee mug by using a sharpie to add the phrase, 'Pussy Patrol Officer' after his name.
Certainly Mickey lost no time in haranguing him about the incidents. The only silver lining in this dark cloud was he knew what probably griped his partner the most was that the cat in the middle of the whole clusterfuck belonged to 'the governor's pet cobra McGarrett'. Actually, that part made Brotman smile. Mickey is a grade-A jerk and, though he might miss the work; he certainly wasn't going to miss his co-worker. He could hardly wait for his twenty and out.
Life can sure be a bitch sometimes, he thought as he once again tapped away at his keyboard.
….
How could this have gone so wrong! It was only a joke!
Lying back against the headboard, Steve dialed Cath's number. Maybe she'd know what to do. His headache was back in full-force and he squeezed his eyes shut as he lay contemplating Angie's words.
Did Danny have a 'thing' for him too? That was just too weird. How could he not have known? Is he that dense? Well, according to Danny he is. Though he'd never admit it, he was aware he could sometimes sort of miss signals most people wouldn't but . . .
He'd been thinking of not even taking the next dose of pain meds but at the moment the ramped-up ache of his head trumped even the ache in his thigh. Reaching toward the nightstand he picked up the vials, shook out the pills and popped them into his mouth followed by a swallow of water from the bottle that sat next to them.
Life is so fucking confusing sometimes when one can't just shoot something or blow it up to solve a problem.
Slapping the cold washcloth back onto his forehead he waited for Cath to pick-up.
….
Cujo lay quietly next to him on the seat of the Camaro. He hadn't even tried to get onto the dash. The cat was pathetic.
"Hey, what the hell's wrong with you?" inquired Danny of the too quiet feline as though he was asking his usual co-occupant in the vehicle, (the one who always insisted on driving). It was a question he'd found himself asking so many times in the past. Though he knew, also much as usual, he wasn't going to get an answer, he thought maybe talking to the little animal might perk him up. Not too perky mind you. He didn't want to deal with that side of the wolverine that could, on a whim, decide to rip out his throat.
"Steve is waiting for you. Don't you want to see Steve?" he tried again, hoping the animal would recognize the name and maybe cheer up a bit. Who knew cats could get so down?
Cujo only looked at him sadly and gave a half-hearted chirp. At least he'd sort of reacted to the question, thought the detective.
"Don't worry babe, we'll be at your crazy confederate's house in a couple minutes. You'll feel better."
Yeah, thought Danny sympathizing with the listless and apathetic animal, life really can be depressing sometimes – even for cats.
…..
Lieutenant Catherine Rollins had just left her post; her duties over for the day. It was time to relax, get something to eat and then hopefully she'd get to watch that DVD her friend had lent her; a highly recommended 'chic-flick'.
Grabbing a quick meal in the officer's mess, she retired to her quarters and threw on a pair of sweats to lounge in. At least she could watch the movie in peace and maybe munch on something good while she became immersed in it. Right now she sort of wished she was cuddled next to Steve on the big leather sofa as they became engrossed in a film, (if not each other).
Watching movies with Steve could be good or bad. Good if it interested him and he stayed still long enough to actually let her enjoy what was on the screen. Bad if it bored him and he became restless and decided that she should be equally as bored and then he'd inevitably think of 'something else' to do. Actually, that was good too. It just wasn't very conducive to movie watching. She smiled at the memory of her last attempt to interest him in a movie that wasn't about blowing things up. It had been quite an evening and it had nothing to do with movie watching.
Just as she was about to hit the play icon on her laptop her cell rang. Looking at the screen, she saw the image of her longtime paramour smiling one of his goofier smiles. She knew he didn't like the photo she'd used as his caller I.D. but, to her, it was one that always made her smile. It showed a side of Steve that not a lot of people get to see. He's always so serious and focused. There weren't many people who knew this other side of him.
"Hey baby!" she greeted, "You caught me at a good time. I just got off duty." She set the machine and the bag of peanut M&M's aside and lay back on her bunk, settling in for a long conversation.
"Glad I got hold of you." he said, the tone of his voice sounding a bit tense.
"What's going on?" she asked having easily discerned something wasn't right.
"Well, everything's gone to hell. I'm sorry I even tried to get back at Danny. I don't know what to do now."
"What's wrong Steve?" she asked with concern. He sounded so worried.
Life is certainly never dull with that man.
…..
Danny was about to turn right onto Pi'ikoi Street when his cell rang. It blasted out the ringtone he'd loaded for Duke Lukela at HPD.
"Hey Duke. What's got you working so late?" He asked as he tapped the button for speaker-phone.
"Hey Danny, we just got a call from near one of the coffee shops. Looks like there may be something going on. When a customer showed up there didn't seem to be anybody manning the shop. I know everyone's a little jumpy right now and with good reason but something may be brewing. Since you guys are working the case I thought you'd maybe like to be in on this one."
"What's the address? I was just on my way to Steve's with his wolverine but I can certainly alter my plans."
"It's 2586 Kalakaua. Cross-street is Kapahulu Avenue. I've got a couple units on the way and I caught Mickey and Phil too. They're also en route."
"That's only about ten minutes from here. I'm on my way." With that, Danny flipped on the lights and made a U-turn that headed him toward the scene. As per procedure, he left off the siren. At this time of the evening traffic wouldn't be a problem and alerting a possible perp wasn't a good idea.
"Looks like we're going on a call. Hang on fence rabbit."
Cujo squawked as he had to cling to the upholstery to keep from sliding off onto the floor. He could sense urgency in the loud man's voice. This might be interesting. Maybe he should get up on the place where he could see where they were going. It was always fun to ride there; especially if they went really fast.
….
Lights off, he pulled silently up to the brightly lit coffee shop. It looked deserted. There was no one behind the counter that he could see. Next to him quietly parked the unmarked sedan carrying Kilkenny and Brotman.
Nodding to each other they unholstered their weapons and crept toward the door. HPD units were already covering the rear alleyway.
This wasn't one of the locations designated as a possible target. Chin and Kono were at this moment on the evening shift at the one they'd been staking out for several days. With the world's worst barista out of commission, the morning shift had been covered by HPD. Danny knew if this turned out to be who they'd been looking for, the cousins would be pissed to miss it all.
He gestured for Brotman and Kilkenny to go to the right as he veered left toward the counter; H&K held out before him; safety off and finger on trigger.
There was no one to be seen behind the counter or anywhere else in the shop. Coming closer, they realized the register had a hand-written note taped to it. 'Back in a minute', it read in a sloppy scrawl.
Creeping behind the counter toward the door to the back room, Williams pointed Kilkenny toward the restrooms to check them out and motioned for Brotman to get behind him. Mickey scowled at the directive but Phil dutifully covered his back as he pushed open the door to the storeroom. There was the sound of frantic movement behind a rack holding bags of coffee and boxes of paper cups and napkins.
"FIVE-0! COME OUT AND SHOW YOUR HANDS!" yelled Danny toward the back of the room.
"Hey! Don't shoot!" answered a startled and young sounding male voice. With one hand raised and the other frantically and ineffectively trying to zip up his pants, a skinny youth appeared from behind the racks followed by a rather plump young woman with huge frightened eyes. With trembling hands she was tugging a too tight T-shirt back down over her bosom.
"Seriously?" said Danny as he rolled his eyes and lowered his gun, Brotman doing the same behind him.
"Uhh, sorry man. Uhh, you know how it is." stammered the youth, the girl still behind him unsuccessfully trying to hide her rather generous bulk behind the rail-thin boy.
"Yeah, I know 'horny and stupid' when I see it." replied the detective who almost burst out laughing at the unfortunate couple; Brotman actually chuckling softly behind him.
After scolding the kids for their stupidity and irresponsibility and notifying the HPD back-up of the false alarm, Danny, Phil and Mickey walked back to their waiting cars; more than ready to go home for the night.
Front paws resting on the place below the Camaro's driver-side window Cujo peered out curiously at the detectives as they returned.
"Hey, isn't that the cat that caused all the ruckus?" asked Brotman trying his best to scowl at the animal that looked back at him eyes wide with innocence and curiosity. Though a bit battered looking, the little cat had the appearance of a plush toy one of his now grown daughters used to drag around with her when she was just a little thing. Boy, looks can sure be deceiving, he thought as he unconsciously rubbed the scabbed over puncture marks on his wrist.
"Yeah, Five-0's office guard and rodent control officer." answered Danny as he grasped the door handle in preparation to entering the car.
"Just another one of McGarrett's little toys; you know, like his entire task force." derisively opined Kilkenny.
Brotman scowled at his partner as he saw Williams take a deep breath and smile tightly. The veteran HPD detective well knew everyone was tired and now wasn't the time to start any bullshit. He just dearly wanted to go home; kiss his wife and cuddle up with a beer and the TV remote.
Gritting his teeth the blonde detective bit out, "For the last time Kilkenny; knock off the bullshit! You know McGarrett is twice the cop you'll ever be in your wildest dreams and he doesn't have to get busy with a TV reporter to solve any cases." Danny couldn't help it. The guy had just stomped on his last nerve.
"Yeah, he's got you for that." snarked Mickey. He knew it wasn't true but he said it anyway to get under the Jersey detective's skin. The lot of them had irked the hell out of him with their 'means and immunity' bullshit and he considered their leader an arrogant asshole with delusions of invincibility. The guy isn't a cop no matter what anyone says.
Kilkenny felt Brotman's hand on his arm as a signal to shut-up and get the hell in the car so they could go home.
"What? You're on his side now?" snapped Mickey turning to his partner.
At this point, Brotman too had had enough of Kilkenny's persistent aggravation. "Mickey, knock it off. It's late and I want to get home sometime before tomorrow morning for a change." he said in annoyance
Danny, distracted by Mickey's 'in-your-face' insult, had just opened the door to the Camaro; shooing Cujo back from the window in preparation to entering his vehicle.
With the door open only an inch or so he stopped what he was doing and turned toward the man he so desperately wanted to punch in the face. Completely forgetting about the little cat who waited inside; the one that was stronger than he looked, the compact man turned toward Kilkenny.
"Mickey, you damned well know McGarrett can kick your ass any day of the week. He can also solve a case faster than you with one arm tied behind his back."
"Is that how you guys do it? Tie each other up?" suggestively sneered Kilkenny; even under the color distorting lighting of the parking lot he could the angry flush creeping into the blonde's face.
Danny had finally had enough. It was time get all Jersey on somebody's ass.
"That must be it. You're blushing again. You guys use rope or cuffs?" snorted Mickey
There was none of the time-honored ceremony that usually led up to fisticuffs among much of the male population. None of the back and forth that primed the combatants until fists were employed rather than words. No, 'You talkin' to me?' or 'Oh, yeah, so's your mother', Danny just hauled off and clocked him.
"Hey!" said Brotman trying to interject himself between the two. Fuck! All I wanna do is go home!
Mickey, falling back into the open door of the sedan, grabbed the heavy flashlight from the bracket on the dash and advanced toward Danny with the club-like device, Brotman tried to stop him and grab it away but got an elbow to the gut for his trouble which doubled him over with a whoosh of escaping air.
Danny brought his fists up and stepped forward, blocking a swing of the steel baton with a forearm before taking another swing of a fist at Kilkenny's jaw and missing by a fraction of an inch.
Kilkenny brought the flashlight down on the top of his compact but no less fierce opponent's shoulder. Arm numb from the impact, Danny leapt backward to stumble against the Camaro but not fast enough as another swing of the club caught him on the side of the head and he saw stars.
Suddenly, the scream of a mountain lion rent the air as a furry projectile shot out of the car toward the hand wielding the weapon.
*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*
Ending on just a minor cliffie. We all know that Cujo and Danny make the world's toughest team.
Have actually started the next chapter but am not promising an ETA. You guys are much less easily duped than ninja cats. Reviews would be lovely.
