Guilty Party
by Peg Keeley

Part 6

Amanda King had refused to talk with Danny or anyone else from Five-O. It was one of the few rights she still had and he could not blame her for exercising it. He decided to pick up Lonnie from Lukelas and take him to McDonald's.

Lonnie was thrilled to see his Dad and literally jumped into his arms at the doorway.

McDonalds was just a few blocks away. Danny parked the car, then routed around in the glove compartment till he found two more Advil.

Just as Danny opened the door to let Lonnie out, a voice called. "Williams!"

He turned to see Carrie Donagan, without cameraman, hurrying across the lot. He quickly shoved Lonnie back into the car and shut the door before turning angrily to her. "I have nothing to say to you."

Inside the vehicle, Lonnie began to whimper, confused about the sudden change in his Dad's mood and the detour from McDonalds.

She pulled out a tissue from her purse and waved it in a friendly manner, a tense grin on her face. "Truce time. I really need to talk."

He frowned. "Talk about what."

"Can I join you for a bite?"


She swallowed her pride, her look sobering. "Please. Nothing goes into print. Promise."

He did not believe her. "Why?"

"You read the paper?"

"No. I'm tired of reading the paper."

"Now that King's convicted, everybody's screaming for the judge to throw away the key--or worse."

"So?" he said coldly.


He reluctantly agreed.


"Well, what's on your mind?" Danny demanded as Lonnie ran to play on the slide.

Carrie pushed aside her unopened hamburger. "Your little boy is cute. I can see why you would want to keep him away from all this mess."

"I'm glad you approve," he said flatly, not caring in the least what she thought. "What do you want?"

"Did you ever talk to Cindy Maku during the trial."

"She was not a friendly in this thing. We talked on a few occasions early in the investigation. She didn't seem to have much to offer. At the time she didn't shape up as a suspect."

"She was so outspoken to the press, my producer wanted to do a piece on her." She reached back into her bag. "I reviewed all the footage we shot on the King story this morning and made a copy of this." She showed him a glossy of Cindy as she consoled the swooning Amanda in the sugar field. "Look at the shoes."

He squinted at the small picture. Cindy was wearing was could have been the heels later found in the dumpster. "A lot of high heels on this island. This doesn't prove they are the same pair." He was more wary of Carrie bearing "gifts" than he was as the focus of her smear campaign. "Why, Donagan?"

"Why what?"

"Why now? Why the info now? Why not back when it would have done Amanda King some good? I don't know that these are the right shoes, but we have specialists who may be able to find out. If it is Maku, why did you hide this?"

"I didn't hide it," she said defensively, "I never looked at it till this morning." She looked away for a minute. "We were all caught up in the thing, weren't we? The public wanted her neck, they wanted you a guilt ridden cop with ulterior motives. We gave them what they wanted. The truth was secondary."

"And now?"

"I really believed Five-0 was right and that she did it. The rest was just fun. When I realized you really had your doubts, I began to wonder just what the hell we were doing."

He picked up the information. "I imagine I get to keep this."

"Yeah. You'll see I get the by-line?"

He managed a smile. "In four inch caps."



Kono exited the jet ramp in Los Angeles not looking forward to another encounter with the Los Angeles Police Department. He had found them earlier to be a unfeeling and tough group who had more crime issues than they could handle and were not in the least interested in crime in Hawaii. However, he discovered something new before he ever left the airport. The television in a gate waiting area was playing the afternoon news and the anchorman's voice was commenting on a bribery attempt in the IRS. He was joking about whether the arrested IRS employee would have filed the bribe on his income tax. Kono nearly ran to the closest pay phone and called, not LAPD, but the FBI.



Che had called Steve's office about the lab test. It had been conducted and the rechecked by the pathologist at Queens Medical Center. The results were guaranteed accurate. Steve, Danny, and Sarah Lulia were all present as Che produced his report.

"Lonnie's blood type is A positive," he started. "We used results of the autopsy from Ms. Kanae that stated she also was A positive. Danny you are A positive, too. We also looked for antigens, little sub categories of blood group classifications that are much more detailed. This type of study is usually conducted for donor matches amd compatibility studies."

Danny wish Che would do a little less education and just cut to the chase.

As if noticing Danny's impatience, Che said suddenly. "94% chance that Lonnie is your son Danny, congratulations."

It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders as Danny turned towards Sarah.

She stuck out her lower lip. "That don't make you a good parent."

"You're right," he said quietly. "I guess I'll just have to be the best I can -- like everyone else does, Sarah. But you have proof now. He is my son -- my son." Just saying the words felt good.

Sarah just turned and walked away.

Danny watched her go. "How do you like that. No apologies, no anything."

Steve sighed. "What did you expect, Danno? Anyway, congratulations from me, too. We'll have to celebrate -- later." The phone rang and he picked it up. He snatched up a pencil and began to take rapid notes. "When?...All right....yes. Spell that for me....good work. Thanks, Kono. I'll see you in the morning." He looked at the clock. It was just past 4:00 PM. "Danno we need a court order in a hurry to look at bank records of Cindy Maku at First Hawaiian."

"We already did that," Danny commented.

"Well, we need to do it again. Get the order and get someone from the bank to meet us there. I'll pick up Trent King and see you in thirty minutes."


"Wow," Danny said quietly. "This account didn't look like this earlier." There had been two entries of $75,000 into Cindy's savings account in the last two days.

"Deposits from a holding company in Los Angeles," Steve explained.

Trent frowned. "I don't get it."

"You know a man named Franklin Unther?" Steve asked.

Trent blinked and paled.

"He's the one who put the money there."

"My God," Trent whispered. "No, I can't believe it. He wouldn't. It doesn't make sense."

"Oh, it makes sense all right -- perfect sense and all because of the simplest of motives -- greed," Steve stated. "Unther was arrested this morning, Trent, on bribery when your co-worker, Alex Shelton, was caught trying to modify a data base that would have identified Unther's falsified records."

"Unther tried to get me to do it, and I refused," Trent said quietly.

Steve nodded. "He apparently decided to use you, Amanda, and Cam as a demonstration for why Shelton should comply. It looks like he found Cindy. To her this was completely mercenary. He gave her enough money and she killed Cam then made it look like Amanda. Unther even hired a high price lawyer whom he paid to throw the trial."

But--" Trent whispered, "--how could--just to frightened Alex? Our lives meant nothing more to him than -- God, my son's life..."

"You will need to make a statement both for us and for the FBI in Los Angeles," Steve told him. "Trent, if you had reported Unther when he first approached you, you might have stopped him."

He shook his head weakly. "I didn't because he said he'd hurt my family. I thought I was protecting them. Instead I got Cam killed."


Steve and Danny arrived in the parking lot of the textile mill just before shift change. It was nearly seven o'clock, it had been a long day and they still had to confront Cindy Maku.

Danny glanced at the unmarked white van parked up at the corner. "Think Donagan can get her story from there?"

"No doubt," Steve assured him. "And this time, I'd even pose for the camera myself."

The whistle blew and a stream of workers began to flow from the building. Steve and Danny spotted Cindy right away. She looked up, saw them, and there was a hesitation in her step. She glanced around as if trying to plan an escape, but they were already headed towards her. She frowned, squinting in the hot late afternoon sun, which made her face almost ugly. "I thought this mess was over."

"Maybe it is," Steve answered.

"Are you going to haunt me forever? This is harassment you know," she barked. "I'd like to get on with my life and put all this behind me."

"A lot of people would," he agreed, "but there are a few things still unanswered."

"Like what?" she asked rudely. "Amanda was convicted, that ought to be a feather in your cap."

"Do you think she did it?"

"Does it matter?"

He kept fishing and was aware she knew it. "Yes, it matters. If she didn't do it, who did?"

She shrugged. "Not my job."

"Well, it is mine." Steve motioned her aside from the group. "Now, you have insisted all along that Amanda was innocent. You must have an idea for who did kill Cam."

She shifted her weight.

"You hired a Malcolm Jones He was one expensive lawyer. Only he didn't do a very good job. I think he threw the trial."

"Why would he do that?" she demanded angrily.

"Because someone paid him to," he answered simply. "Perhaps the real killer. Perhaps someone who wanted to protect the real killer."

"More circumstantial evidence?" She laughed a bit uneasily. "You cops never learn."

"There's proof a man named Franklin Unther paid Jones. Unther also put $150,000 in your bank account. Why did he do that?"

"You son of a bitch!" She screamed. She broke into a run, Danny and Steve in pursuit. She sprinted across the small lot towards the street, turning to look back just as she reached the curb. Without hesitating, she raced out onto the street. There was a warning squeal of brakes and an air born as the semi-truck tried to avoid her. Cindy Maku's escape came to an permanent end.


Steve hung up the phone from his conference with John Manicote and noticed Duke and Danny had returned to the office. Night had set in and tonight they would, at last, all sleep well.

"How are you feeling?" Steve asked of Danny.

"The hang over from hell," he muttered. "I've had a splitting headache all day."

Steve managed a quick grin. "Good. I hope you never have another one. John says Amanda King has been released. Thought you might want to talk to her. They're on their way over here."

Danny wanted anything but that, but knew he owed it to the girl. John arrived minutes later, a very timid, wide-eyed Amanda at his side. Somehow, Danny remembered her looking this way every time he saw her.

"Amanda," he said quietly as they all moved into Steve's office, "did Mr. Manicote explain what's happened?"

She nodded. "Cindy, I can't believe it. She acted like she liked Cam."

"I owe you an apology," Danny offered.

"Everyone else was the same way," she replied. "They decided I did it and it didn't matter any more. I was the mother who killed her child. That was the way it was going to be. You don't owe me anything. I owe you my thanks. You went back and tried again. I guess now that's what I need to do. Go back and try again." She sighed. "It doesn't change anything for Cam. He's still gone. And that's forever."

"What do you plan to do?" Steve asked sincerely.

"I don't know. Go back to the mainland." She managed a faint smile. "I think I'll let Trent take me to Idaho. Things are different there. Maybe I can learn a little bit about loyalty from him. We many only have a few years to live, but I'd like to make the most of it."

Steve recalled Trent's confusion and pain. He knew the man had never given up on his wayward ex-wife. "Amanda, if anyone can make this work again for you, Trent can. He's an unusual man. We wish you well." They went to the door and as he opened it could see Trent standing by the secretary's desk.

He gave a protecting smile as Amanda crossed the floor and placed an arm around her as they turned to leave.

Danny walked back into his office, relieved for the first time in weeks. He could almost feel the stress fall away from his shoulders like losing a heavy winter overcoat. Dropping into his desk chair, he noticed a small box wrapped in simple blue paper with a bow made of string on top. He hesitated, not seeing the stamp of inspection by HPD, then rationalized that it was too small to be anything bigger than a matchbox toy. He opened the cover carefully and discovered a small iron cast replica of an old milk wagon with two horses on the front. The horses had been carefully painted brown and white, the wagon was red, with tiny silver milk cans in the back. The whole model was no longer than two inches. He opened the small note of paper that was under the toy. "Never doubt your friends. We are there for you. Stay on the wagon."

He gave a little smile, recognizing Steve's handwriting. He placed the wagon beside Lonnie's picture on his desk. I guess I'll be at work in the morning.

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