By Peg Keeley
Lonnie lay in the dark bedroom, staring at the ceiling wondering why he
had gotten mad with Steve there. Now Uncle Steve will be mad at me.
He won't like me anymore. Why are things so messed up anyway? Why did
I do that? Maybe Paul was right. Maybe I will never fit here. What then?
Things used to be okay. We used to go to neat things. Now we just argue.
It isn't fun anymore. I don't like it like this. He rubbed a sleeve
across his eyes to attempt to stop the angry tears that gathered. He squeezed
the red cloth in his pocket. I don't know what to do.
After some time, he began listening for sounds in the front room, but
the voices were hushed. Lonnie's stomach growled, but he was too proud
to go back out there and apologize so he could eat. Maybe I should
never eat again and I would get sick and look like a skinny skeleton and
die.. Maybe that would make Dad feel bad and care. Maybe I should just
It wasn't very long after, he heard the sound of Steve's car engine and
the crunch as the tires pulled out of the gravel drive. Moments later,
there was a knock on the bedroom door. "Lonnie?"
He decided to pretend to be asleep.
Danny waited several minutes, then slowly closed the door and went back
out into the living room to help Audrey with her Math.
Kono always enjoyed the early morning hours just around daybreak. After
all these years in Five-0, it just comes natural to be out of bed on my
front porch at sunrise. It hasn't gotten hot yet, the bugs aren't bad
and the kids are all still asleep. Kono loved kids, all kids. He'd
been close to marriage twice, but had never taken "the plunge."
He enjoyed his nephew's children. And Gary had plenty of them. At last
count there were five. To them Uncle Kono was another big playmate. Kono
kept a small white cottage on Kemau Street. Gary's home was two doors
away and the one nestled between belonged to Kono's aging mother. Their
properties were away from the hustle of the tourist part of town where
they could hear the birds. Kono finished his coffee and put the paper
aside, trying not to be depressed by the headlines about Max's attack.
At least Steve is back. Whoever did this won't get away with it.
He stretched and decided to check on his mother before going to work.
Her arthritis bothered her many days and he worried about her not eating
He rapped gently on the front door and stepped into the semi-lit living
room. "Mama?" She did not reply and he decided she was still
asleep. He walked over to the tiny kitchen and prepared her two eggs and
some toast with butter. The elderly women did not drink coffee, but loved
orange-pineapple juice and he poured her a glass of that. He went through
her medicines and carefully counted out her pain med, her blood thinner,
her blood pressure pill. Everything ready, he picked up the small tray
of breakfast and made his way down to the bedroom past all the years collections
of nick-knacks she had placed on shelves and tables. "Mama?"
he repeated gently, opening the door. He gasped in shock and dropped the
The phone ringing awoke Lonnie with a start.
He instantly recalled the unpleasant events from the night before and
that he and his dad had never reconciled. He felt instant sadness and
regret. Unresolved issues were not common for them. He scrambled into
his jeans, then stopped, remembering the red bandana in his pocket. What
will I do? He fingered it in thought and decided to talk to Danny.
The man blinked. "The Steve McGarrett?
The honor is mine, Sir." The man extended a hand.
Lonnie stepped out into the hallway, headed for the front room where Danny
had slept on a fold out sofa since Audrey's arrival. The boy stopped short.
The old chest that occupied the corner of the room was normally locked.
Now the lid was open and Danny knelt before it, sliding the last bullet
into the revolver of the snub-nosed .38 that for the last several years
had been locked away wrapped in black flannel inside the truck. Danny
looked up, the pistol in his right hand. Their eyes met.
"Dad?" Lonnie asked.
He put the gun into the holster on his waist and rose. "It's okay,
Lonnie," he stated, but there was a determined sound to his voice.
The boy blinked, speechless. "What's happening?"
"I've got to go. Kono called. Something has happened to Grandma Tutu."
"Something you need a gun for?"
Danny turned back, recalling all the years he had spent explaining the
powers of observation and police detail to his son. Now that eleven-year-old
son was being observant. He sighed. "Lonnie, there is someone who
is very bad here, or at least his father was very bad. I think he shot
Max. If he is like his father, he won't stop there. He may have hurt Grandma
Tutu. Get Audrey and you to school. Make sure she gets to class okay.
Pay attention, okay? Get an adult's help if you think anything is wrong."
Lonnie felt panic rising. "Is someone going to come here?"
"No, but just be safe. Think. Okay?"
He managed a nod. "I've got some friends at school now," he
commented. "They will help, too."
Danny was barely listening. "Good. Having buddies is important. I've
got to go." He gave Lonnie a pat on the shoulder and was out the
Lonnie slowly pulled out the red scarf. Having buddies is important.
So, I guess since Paul and them are good guys, this is okay. He left
the end of the bandana hanging out of his pocket like he'd seen BJ doing
the day before. He hurried to get ready for school for the first time
in weeks not dreading the trip between the elementary and middle schools.
It did not even bother him that he had to wake Audrey up, get her breakfast
and even help with her hair. Today will be different.
As the bus made the final slow turn into the drop off area between the
schools, Lonnie felt his heartbeat quicken, his throat go dry. What
if they aren't here? What if they let me down? He gripped the red
cloth hanging from his pocket for reassurances.
Audrey noticed the action. "Are you scared?" Her eyes widened.
"Of course not," he snapped, but his stomachache was back.
The doors to the bus hissed open and students began to file down the steps.
Lonnie and Audrey lingered to the rear of the group until they could put
it off no longer. Taking a deep breath, Lonnie plunged down the steps
to the sidewalk.
"Hi," came a friendly voice.
Lonnie turned with a start to see an eighth grade boy he recalled from
yesterday at Paul's hideout and two other middle school boys he did not
know. He struggled to remember the boy's gang name. "Hi, Me'e."
One of the other boys tugged the bandana in his own pocket, then Lonnie's.
"I'm Ao, this is Makani. We've been sent to greet you, Koko. Let's
not be late for school."
Lonnie gave a little grin. "Earth and Wind," he interpreted
the names. "Is Ahi about?"
Ao did not seem to understand the phrase 'earth, wind, and fire.' "You've
met Ahi? He's home sick today."
Lonnie shook his head. "Never mind."
As the group moved towards the courtyard, Lonnie spotted Konito and Rolli
leaning against the brick wall watching him. Konito issued a fierce glare
and an obscene gesture, then turned his back.
Lonnie felt suddenly elated. They are afraid! They won't be bothering
me anymore! Having safely dropped Audrey off at her school, Lonnie
headed into the middle school and towards his locker. As the gang members
moved off he commented. "Thanks."
"No need, Koko. The time will come," Me'e remarked.
McGarrett had the phone to his ear, listening the preliminary doctor's
report as Danny entered the Five-0 office. "Thank you, doctor. Yes,
I most certainly want everything checked. Thank you." He hung up.
He returned the greeting and nodded to Gary who stood near the coffeepot.
"The medical examiner just called. Preliminary reports conclude that
Mrs. Kalahuana died from a heart attack."
"Tutu was on bunches of medicine for her heart," Gary agreed.
"Maybe it was just her time."
"Maybe," Steve commented. "Maybe not. I want to know for
sure. No doubt Kono will remain down at the ME's office to make sure no
stone goes unturned. If Junior is anything like his father and uncle he
is going to be dangerous and sly. They were cocky and proud in their attempted
takeover. If Junior wants to succeed by correcting their errors, he will
be much more subtle."
"Well, so far he doesn't appear any dirtier than anyone else the
governor as trying out for this job," Danny commented. "His
two competitors are Stanley York and Stito Kamakito." He handed over
the two photos. "York comes from Las Vegas. His ties to the Ramone
family are pretty blatant. Instead of hiding them, York used them as his
Steve gave a small laugh and shook his head. "Playing his weaknesses
as his strengths, huh? And Kamakito?"
"He is a naturalized citizen. Is an adopted Eurasian, raised by none
other that Judge Kamakito of Maui. There may be some business ties back
to our friend Gordon Mack."
"Now that's interesting," Steve agreed. "Could be Mack
is just covering his bases."
The door to the office opened and Richard rushed in. He held a manila
envelope clutched in one head. "There was only one, Mr. McGarrett."
Gary and Danny exchanged questioning looks.
"One? Are you sure?" Steve asked, completely aware of Richard's
"Absolutely sure." He slid a small plastic zip-lock back from
the envelope and held up the spent copper casing. "9mm."
"Okay, gentlemen. We have something to go with now." Steve circled
the desk, still not quite comfortable with how Max had rearranged the
office. He carefully placed the casing in plastic on the smooth desk surface.
"Max Conner took two shots, but we have just one spent casing. Why?"
"Maybe we can't find it," Gary suggested.
"Why not?" Steve fired back.
"They gotta look harder," Gary concluded.
"Hey," Richard interjected. "It is not there. I've had
officers combing through that alley for-"
Steve rose a hand. "Or what else?"
"The gunman has one and could not find the other," Danny offered
quietly. "When the heat is off he may go back to look for it."
Steve nodded. "One more possibility. The spent casing could be in
the car." He rapped his knuckles on the polished wood grain. "The
car, gentlemen. We need the car."
Richard licked his lips. "Mr. McGarrett. I -- um -- I have something
Steve looked patiently at Quinn. "Please go ahead, Richard."
He slid out a photo of the tire mark on the pavement in the alley. He
walked over to the board with the drawn layout of the alley on it. "We
know where one wheel was in the alley -- right here." He motioned
to the small red square. We have a full sized Chevy or Pontiac. The wheel
has to be the front right tire. If it was left," he motioned across
the graph, "the car would have been almost on top of Max's Escort.
If it was the rear, the car would have been very deep into the alley and
the gunman could have been trapped. A smart killer would not have put
himself into a situation where he could be trapped -- especially if he
knew he was meeting a cop. I took the wheel base measurements and measured
them off in the alley." He pulled out a photo. "See that?"
He gestured to a scratch on the pavement. "A shoe stepped from the
car, pivoted then fired. There was a pebble under the shoe that scratched
the pavement. From where that scratch is we know the car is a Caddy."
Steve looked at Richard, surprise on his face. So we know why Richard
came to Five-0 after all. This nervous little bumbling guy could deduce
the secrets of the world from a cereal box cover once he gets going.
"Well done, Richard." He looked back towards Gary. "Go
back to the rentals. Look at who had a Caddy out with new tires the night
of Max's shooting. I want all names."
He nodded and headed for the door.
"Danno, I need you do run out to Maui and see what you can find out
about Gordon Mack." Steve sounded apologetic.
"You sure Max's budget can handle this?" he asked.
Steve grinned. "It's always easier to ask forgiveness than permission,
right?" The phone rang. For an instant, Steve was catapulted back
to the nightmare fourteen years ago when the Caputos had terrorized Hawaii.
"McGarrett, Five-0," he said into the receiver as he lifted
it. It feels so good to say that again!
Danny found himself thinking about how good it felt to be back here, to
have Steve back here. It seems like we are turning back the clock.
If only it was not at Max Conner's expense! I need to check on Nina today.
"Good God," Steve uttered into the phone, looking right at Danny.
My kids! Something has happened. Any light reminiscing had vanished
from his mind.
Steve hung up. "Danno. There's been a helicopter crash out at Barbar's
Point. It was the KOAH news chopper. Carrie Donagon was in it."
Even before Steve's car came to a halt, Danny was jumping from the passenger
side and racing towards the array of yellow fire vehicles and ambulances
that were focused on the smoldering remains of the small Bell helicopter.
The fire of the crash had been short, but intense enough to actually melt
some of the steel structure of the craft.
Danny uttered a gasp of relief as he spotted Carrie sitting on the step
of an ambulance, several medics and officials gathered around her.
"I -- I don't know what happened. We were lifting off and it just
lost power. It kind of shuddered and-" She spotted Danny. "O
Danny!" She jumped to her feet and pushed through the group to throw
herself into his arms.
He embraced her. "You're all right! Thank God!"
She waved a bandaged left arm. "I will be. I hurt my arm. Danny,
it was so awful! Joey saved my life!" Tears began streaming down
her cheeks. "He tried to hold it. He told me to jump." She pointed
to the dumpster about thirty feet away. "It was about twenty five
feet. The boxes and trash, they broke my fall. Joey tried to hold it,
to bring it down -- he couldn't do it." She looked back at the wreckage.
He kept holding her, shocked by the events and by his own intensity of
emotion. I almost lost her! I never told her how I felt. I can't believe
McGarrett watched the unfolding moment as he approached the emergency
team. "Has the FAA been notified?"
A man turned. "I am the FAA."
He blinked. "That was quick."
He grinned. "I just happened to be at the field on a different matter."
Does anything ever "just so happen"? "I am Steve McGarrett,"
he introduced himself. "I am standing in for Max Conner at Five-0."
"How quickly at we get preliminary information on this?"
He shrugged. "Already have some. The facts take until it cools and
we can remove the pilot's body. Couple of hours. But this is a routine flight
accident. Why would Five-0 be interested?"
"Death is never routine," Steve commented, glancing back towards
Danny and Carrie. Who else might know of their attraction for each other?
Junior perhaps? If he managed to kill a grandmother, certainly this would
have been easy. But it is all so abstract. There is nothing to really take
hold of. Isn't that terrorism at is best? Never knowing when or how he will
strike but knowing for certain that he will.
Carrie was sobbing and shivering in spite of the morning sun. Danny wrapped
the blanket the emergency crew offered around her shoulder.
"Let them take you to the hospital," he said gently.
She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. The story. I have to do the story.
We have to shoot."
Danny was aware it was shock beginning to talk now. She was not making great
sense. All the equipment was, of course, gone in the crash. "We can
do the story later, Carrie." He glanced up to see the first of three
media vans swinging into the isolated heli-pad area. It was KHON -- the
"Don't talk to them," Carrie snapped in childish fashion.
"Carrie, you need to be seen by the doctors," he repeated.
She allowed him to gently guide her towards the ambulance. As the medics
motioned her to sit on the stretcher, she looked up at Danny. "I love
you, you know."
He just stared at her, unable to formulate a response to a statement made
so completely out of context. "I'll see you at the hospital,"
he replied a bit lamely. He stepped back as the ambulance tucked in their
charge and, sirens screaming, headed for Honolulu.
"Lucky lady," Steve commented.
"Yeah," Danny replied. She said she loved me. She was in shock
and didn't know what she was saying. But what if she really does? How could
she, we hardly know each other.
"Where was she going in the chopper?"
"She didn't say," Danny answered. Why didn't I ask? "She
just said the craft lost power, the pilot managed to control it long enough
to tell her to jump for that dumpster. Then he went down."
Steve turned to look at the smoldering metal one more time.
"What are you thinking, Steve?"
He shook his head. "I'm not sure what I'm thinking."
"You don't think this was an accident," Danny guessed.
He cocked his head to one side. "I am going to want proof that it was
-- or wasn't. Why don't you stay with Ms. Donagon and see what more she
can tell you."
"What about Gordon Mack and Michael James?" Danny asked.
"They will wait till tomorrow."
Lonnie had spent his first fearless day in months at school. As the day
progressed, he inched the red bandana farther and farther out of the side
of his pocket, noticing the looks he received from fellow students -- awe,
fear, respect. He felt like he walked taller; girls even seemed to notice
him. He wondered if his teachers even knew what the bandana signified because
during the morning, there were no comments at all.
At the bell rang to announce the end of choir class, Mrs. Jones called out
to him. "Lonnie, remain just a moment please."
There were the usual snickers and glares amongst the other students. The
choir room was a place apart from the rest of the school. These students
cared little about gangs and turf wars. Their only concern was that Lonnie's
gifted voice always placed him first before Mrs. Jones and most of them
He put his music up and walked over towards her podium, gripping his backpack
tightly. "Yes, Mrs. Jones?"
"The permission slip, Lonnie."
"Oh. I forgot it," he murmured.
She eyed him closely. "Lonnie is everything all right?"
He dared to look at her for a moment before returning his gaze to the floor.
"Does your father not want you to compete?"
"I-I haven't asked him yet."
"You haven't asked?" She lifted an eyebrow, her dark eyes flashing.
She sighed. "Lonnie, I want to help you if you will let me."
There is nothing left to help with -- except getting out of here. Did
she see the red bandana? Does she know?
As if reading his thoughts, she slowly reached out and tugged on the red
cloth until it came out of his pocket. "What's this?"
"Nothing," he whispered, staring at the cloth in her hand.
"Nothing? Sure looks like somethin' to me." She unfolded it to
the painted Koko. "Blood. Lonnie, is someone out there trying
to hurt you?"
"No, ma'am. It is just for fun," he tried to look sincere.
"Fun! Lonnie, didn't you know that there is a gang here that uses this
as their sign?"
He tried to burn and hole in the floor with his eyes that he could fall
into. He knew his face was reddening. Of all the teachers to notice.
I like Mrs. Jones.
She quietly folded the bandana into a small square and handed it back to
him. "Lonnie, you are a good boy, don't go pretending to be part of
a gang. They are trouble."
"Yes, ma'am," he barely whispered.
"I am going to call your father tonight."
He looked up at her open-mouthed in alarm.
"To ask him to sign your competition permission slip," she finished.
"Oh," he said, trying to conceal his relief.
"Better get on your way, Lonnie."
"Yes, ma'am." He raced from the room.
Steve walked quietly around the outside of Kono's mother's home again. He'd
circled it a dozen times already and spent at least fifteen minute in each
"What are you lookin' for?" asked a small voice.
He looked over towards the fence where Gary's small daughter, Tia, stood,
hand to her forehead shading her eyes from the sun, squinting at him. "Hi
there," he replied, trying to remember the child's name unsuccessfully.
"I am trying to find out what made Tutu sick."
She pouted out a lip. "My mommy said Tutu is dead. She isn't sick."
He lifted an eyebrow. So much for being discreet. He gazed again
at the outside of her bedroom window. Am I looking for something that
isn't here? Am I missing the thing that is out of place? He noticed
a stick laying under the bush by her window and slowly pulled one end out
with his handkerchief. He glanced at the wood. It was about three feet long
with a craggy twist of three small branches extending in claw-like fashion
from one end. The bark betrayed immediately that it had not fallen from
the one tree near the house. Where did this come from? Why is it here.
He glanced back at Tia. "You are Tia, right?"
"Tia, have you or your brothers played with this stick?" He held
it out towards her.
"No!" she said emphatically.
"You're sure?" Her strong emotion surprised him a little.
"That stick is kapu," she declared. "Tutu said that stick
like that is a demon stick. Bad."
He gazed at the branch. "Why?"
"See that," she pointed to the claw-like end. "There a devil
in that end that can come out at night and snatch bad children."
"So where did it come from?"
She shrugged. "I never seen that one. If Tutu knew it was there, she
would have got mad at us."
He looked at it again, then, pulling a tiny pocket magnifying glass from
his pocket examined the window again and saw the small scratch tracings
through the dust on the glass. So it was murder after all. Someone scared
the dear, old woman to death. And how will I ever prove this? I can't.
He felt a deepening foreboding pass over him as he looked back at the small
girl who had since lost interest in him and was playing hopscotch on the
sidewalk. They could have chosen Tia or any one of those kids. Someone
intentionally came to this house and murdered an elderly woman as a subtle
but obvious declaration to Five-0 that everyone is at risk.
Danny had arrived at the emergency room only to be told that Carrie was
in surgery to set her broken arm. He had been shuffled off in the direction
of the waiting room where three other members of the KOAH team were already
chatting lightly amongst themselves and drinking coffee. He kept to himself.
In less than half an hour, a surgeon came in and announced to Carrie's
friends that she was recovering and when be awake shortly, and ready to
be taken home in an hour or so. The group cheered considerably, made several
phone calls including one to have a camera crew on hand when she was discharged.
Danny remained seated near the far wall, cuddling a cooling cup of vending
machine coffee while the echo of Carrie's declaration of love for him
still lingered in his mind. Did she mean that? Was she just in shock
and saying anything? Look at her friends. That one guy is a young muscle-bound
stud -- much more of a catch I would think. And how do I feel about her?
I like her, she has become a friend over the years-a good friend. But
she has never introduced me to her other friends, we've gone out to eat
just once. She's never been to my house. What kind of friendship is that?
Certainly not the type that would create love. She didn't mean it. Beside,
I can't see myself fitting into her newscaster social life....but I would
like to see her.
It was an hour later what a nurse appeared with a tired a mildly groggy
Carrie Donogan in a wheel chair. Her friends burst into cheering and gather
around her tittering about how awful she looked and that a crew would
be here in a minute.
"You are not going to take footage of me," she announced a little
hotly. "I am a mess."
"You're a hero," one replied. "Everyone in Honolulu wants
to see you're okay."
"I am not a hero," she replied. "I'm a survivor. Look,
I just want to go home and get some rest."
Danny had watched from several feet away and now, with a mild grin, decided
to leave her to her friends. As he turned away, he heard his name.
"Danny!" she called noticing him. "Danny, wait!"
He turned back. "I just wanted to be sure you were all right."
"Danny, come here," she insisted. "Everybody -- this is
Danny. You know, the guy I told you about."
She's told them about me? What has she said?
"Oh-hi, Danny," a girl said with smile.
The others replied in kind.
"Danny used to be a Five-0 man ," Carrie added. "But now
he got a sane job and teaches at the university."
"Wow, you worked for Five-0?" the muscle boy asked. "Awesome."
"It's been a long time," he replied gently.
The young man smiled and commented. "Then why do you have a gun under
your jacket? Teaching must be getting dangerous."
Mildly embarrassed at the newsman's observation Danny replied, "Just
"Right. Nobody but a cop can carries a gun in a hospital."
Carrie tossed her head. "He's an exception, Gentry. They let Danny
Williams do just about whatever he wants, right Danny?"
"I don't know about-" he started.
She reached out for his hand. "Will you take me home?"
"What?" he replied, feeling stupid.
"Mind taking me home?"
"Sure," he nearly stammered in surprise and hastily turned to
get the car.
Silence in the car lasted only long enough to clear the emergency entrance
portico. "So are you carrying a gun like he said?" Carrie asked
Danny blinked. "What?"
"A gun." She jabbed not very gently towards his right ribs with
her left hand, trying to feel for the weapon.
"It's on the waist on my left side," he replied. "I'm right
handed. Makes for a faster-"
"I don't want to hear this," she interrupted.
He stole a glance at her face. She's angry! God, what right has she
got to be angry? "Carrie, what is this about?"
"Why are you carrying a gun, Danny?"
"For godssakes, Carrie! I have two children. Eugene Caputo's son
is out there planning to clean up what his father started. Didn't Steve's
demonstration teach you anything? Someone tried to kill you this morning."
She forced a guttural laugh. "Please, Williams, my friend is dead.
We had a terrible accident."
"No, Carrie. Someone killed him and tried to kill you because you
She looked at him, assessed his intensity as he gripped the steering wheel,
knuckles white with fear and rage. "You really believe this, don't
"Believe---" he was lost for words.
"So are you a cop again?"
Silence filled the car, the only interruption the soft engine purr. "I'm
a teacher," he muttered, "trying to protect myself and those
I love from a killer. If that means I have to join forces back up with
McGarrett, then I'll follow him into hell to see the end to this."
Carrie watched the sunlight dancing off the chrome of the car. "I
meant what I said this morning," she said quietly.
He stopped the car at a traffic light. About what? He said nothing.
She licked her lips. I am going out on a limb here. I've known Danny
over ten years, most of that time as enemies. Her heart beat quickened.
"Danny, did you hear me?"
"Yes," he murmured pretending to be watching the traffic.
"And?" she pushed.
His eyes met hers. What do I say? How do I feel? "This isn't
the time, Carrie. You need time to think. You've been through a lot today,
so have I."
She reached out with her good left arm and grabbed his neck, placing a
kiss on his lips.
Time stopped. He looked into her serious, almost fearful eyes. Gently,
he returned the kiss, timidly a first, then gaining courage and intensity
as he embraced her. "Carrie," he whispered, "I-I have wanted
to do that for..."
There was the blare of a car horn behind them as the driver cursed.
He jumped; noticing the light had turned green and hit the accelerator
so hard the tires spun.
Carrie gave a little giggle, cheeks reddening. "Me, too, Danny. It
sounds crazy. We've known each other for years -- why now?"
He assumed it was a rhetorical question and concentrated on his driving.
"Where are we going?" she asked. "I thought you were taking
"I will, but it's 3:30. I wanted to check on my kids. It's not too
far out of the way."
Carrie studied Danny's profile as he drove. He's a good man, a kind
man. If he can keep from getting sucked back in to Five-0 he will be a
great man. For the first time in many years, Carrie let her mind wander
to Brad Cannon. He was a good man, too. We were to be married -- almost
made it. Then Sargent Brad Cannon of HPD died making a routine domestic
dispute call. Never again. No more cops.
End Part 4
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