Chapter Text
H50H50H50
He really thought his fine, upstanding teammates would have had the collective sense to keep him away from this kind of interview. Danny knew, of course, that his partner had divided the labor with the deliberate intent to torture him, and it was his own fault for offering to stay at HQ to do computer analysis since Lori had been called away on Homeland Security business on the mainland (lucky woman). He had to work on his soft sell; he liked computer work about as much as he believed in some greater force of good and evil governing people’s actions. Ultimately, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. He picked up a CD with a picture of a lush Hawai’ian rainforest on its cover.
“Psychic healing and repair through the ancient art of chanting, my ass,” he mumbled at the professed benefits of the CD. “I don’t know why people buy into this mumbo jumbo.”
The bell above the door, very old school, dinged again as Steve McGarrett, Lieutenant Commander of all things Navy and SEAL-like, joined him. For a moment, backlit by the bright sunshine from outside, Steve looked slightly more than human, like he existed on some higher plane. The light glinted off the patches of grey at the side of his head, caught the length of his eyelashes and Danny cursed under his breath about both, because there was no way on earth that was fair. It was hardly fair to anyone on the planet, but specifically to him. And that was not accounting for the tattoos, the broad shoulders, the every last damn thing. Steve didn’t need to drag him to the hokiest place on the island to torture him. He just had to exist in Danny’s relatively small sphere of influence, and damned if Steve didn’t delight on squeezing right on in every chance he got.
Danny was almost one hundred percent certain Steve had no idea whatsoever that he swung that way, sometimes, that attraction to him wasn’t confined to one gender. By all appearances, he was straight as a fucking proverbial arrow. It was easier that way most of the time. He wasn’t proud of taking the path of least resistance, for the record. If asked, he’d tell. Until then, he was dating Gabby, casually. He enjoyed Gabby, casually. She was a wonderful, beautiful person.
She was also not Steve, which was no fault of hers but there it was anyway. He was going to have to do something about that before his assholery, unintentional though it was, got out of hand. It wasn’t right for him to keep seeing her, casually, especially considering he’d introduced her to Grace. That was a particular dick move, in respect to his utter unfairness to Gabby for not being Steve.
The sum inequity of his life, of course, was that no one else was or could ever be Steve, and Danny knew it made him slightly sick in the head to harbor unrequited feelings for a guy who actually was as straight as the proverbial arrow everyone thought he himself was. For the life of him and despite skill in that area, he couldn’t get a read on Steve beyond that. He should be able to tell if there was any hope at all, damn it, and he couldn’t. It was depressing, honestly. His own misery was blocking his receptors or something.
“They got anything?” Danny asked.
Chin and Kono had taken a similar shop over in Waikiki, which was why the computer angle had been a moot play. Much as Danny professed to hate the beach, he’d have rather pulled that one than this dusty downtown dump. He felt a sneeze at the back of his nose, and his throat tickled. He had constant throat issues from the sand and all the plant life and who knew what else, it wasn’t even funny. Come to think of it, Steve had probably thought he was doing Danny a favor, steering them away from the beach. Too bad he steered them right into a dustbin instead. He looked up and caught Steve staring at him in amusement, obviously waiting for him to sneeze. Danny tilted his chin, waggled his hand to show it wasn’t happening, for Steve to carry on.
“Nope, dead end. They’re on their way to the last locale. He’s got to be using one of these places,” Steve said. He looked at the CD in Danny’s hand, leaned in close to peer at it. “Hey, it’s about time you acknowledged the psychic damage you’re carrying around. Good for you, Danny. It’s the first step in the healing process.”
“Ha ha.” Danny slammed the CD back into its spot, perhaps a hair too defensively, and retreated a step, which was also a defensive move. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, except for maybe those ridiculous faces you pull all the time. Those are legitimately humorous. I’ll give you that only since you don’t intend them to be.”
Steve pulled that one face that involved hooded eyes and a lopsided smile, the one Danny did not find hot at all. Uh uh, not him and it would be much easier to set aside inconvenient physical reactions if Steve doing even the most mundane of things wasn’t somehow so, so hot. Fuck his life. He needed to focus on the case.
“Oh,” the clerk said, appearing as if from nowhere. “Howzit?”
Danny turned, took in the slight man standing directly in front of the counter. He was short as well as slender, an inch or two taller than Danny himself, and native. Age was difficult to determine. The guy looked both old and young, somehow.
“I’m sorry, I got caught up in reorganizing the stock room. Didn’t hear you come in. Can I help you find something today?”
Then again, maybe Danny’s life wasn’t all bad. He had to endure what was mostly unintentional torture ala his partner, but at least he wasn’t reorganizing stock rooms for bullshit mystical healing shops. There was always that.
“My friend here,” Steve said as he thumbed toward Danny, “is in need of spiritual guidance.”
“No, I’m not,” Danny said quickly, lifting his hands as if he could ward off the very idea. “I’m really not. He’s joking. He does that. He thinks he was a comedian in a past life or whatever, because everyone knows he isn’t amusing in this one.”
“Hmm,” the guy said, as if confused, except he didn’t look confused so much as intrigued.
“Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett. My partner, Detective Danny Williams. Five-0.” Steve pointed to their badges with a smile, suddenly all about the people skills. It was a dirty trick, leading off with a jab like that. “We have a few basic questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering them. Do you own this shop?”
“Yes, owner and sole employee,” the guy said, with a smile and a quick flick of his eyes around the small storefront. “Kai Haalilio. Am I in trouble?”
“Not at all, sir.” Danny smiled as if every single thing about this place didn’t make him itch. He pulled the picture, grainy and not terribly useful, out and slid it across the counter. “We’re actually looking for someone who might have reason to frequent an establishment such as yours. You see, he fancies himself a bit of a … what was that word again?”
“Kahuna hana aloha,” Steve said, helpfully and with perfect diction and cadence.
“That’s it. I get the kahuna because of all those old surfer movies, but after that it’s all Greek to me,” Danny said, shrugging.
Halfway through he knew he was tiptoeing toward the bad attitude thing, but it was partially Steve’s fault, damn it, for leading off with the whole spiritual guidance crack. It set him off on a defensive route, but he thought he managed to swing it around to harmless, classic blundering mainlander. Yeah, okay. He could acknowledge holding his tongue was an area in which he needed some improvement; that wasn’t exactly breaking news.
Haalilio stared at Danny for a few measured beats, dark eyes thoughtful and, truthfully, a tad intimidating. That was saying something, because Danny had learned at a very young age how to handle people larger than himself – and larger didn’t always mean physically. Haalilio had an air about him that was unsettling. Danny maintained eye contact, though. For all he didn’t believe in all this ancient peace and love and harmony with the spirits, their suspect did, at least as a means to an end. Haalilio did without an ulterior motive. That was all that mattered, and if part of his motivation to toe that line was avoiding another giant rock through the car’s window like the eccentric man at the heiau, then so be it.
“Why would Five-0 be looking for someone with those credentials?” Haalilio said at last. He didn’t glance at the picture. “Surely, love isn’t against the law.”
“No, no it is not,” Danny said. He shifted to his right foot, edged away from Steve, as it seemed like his partner was crowding him all of a sudden. “In fact, I wholly support and advocate love. It, as they say, keeps the world going around. The problem is our resident proclaimed love doctor isn’t official and has been bilking lonely people out of their hard earned money.”
“Auwe.”
Basic fraud alone wasn’t enough for Five-0’s involvement, and there was no way to know how many people had been duped and been too embarrassed to come forward, or how many had been tourists and had gone home poorer than they expected. But this genius had pulled the con on one of the governor’s friends, who happened to be a very wealthy, somewhat powerful person in the mainland political arena in her own right. She was also very gullible.
Frankly, Danny wasn’t sure that was enough to qualify task force involvement. Governor Denning wanted them to jump, so they jumped whether or not they wanted to. That was a severe drawback to working on Five-0, as far as he was concerned. He was also a tad unsympathetic to someone who managed to lose what amounted to twice his own annual salary inside of a week and while on an expensive vacation slash political trip, but sometimes his was not to wonder why. His was but to do and hopefully not die in the process. He slid his eyes to Steve, the man voted most likely to get Danny killed. The question was, would it be guns, explosives or Steve’s ass in those cargo pants that did him in?
“Our way is la’a. Unless he’s ‘anâ ‘anâ, I cannot believe he’s one of us,” Omanaka said, horrified.
“You’re kahuna?” Steve asked.
“Kupua a'o.” Haalilio bowed his head. “I help people realize truths about themselves, find peace.”
“Huh,” Danny said. It seemed kahuna was contagious or something. Steve’s elbow nudged into Danny’s shoulder, a very unsubtle reminder to remain respectful. “That’s nice.”
“No one has died, so not ‘anâ ‘anâ. We agree that it’s doubtful he’s anything but a con artist,” Steve said.
“No.” Haalilio shook his head slowly. “And even if he was kahuna, he’s broken the trust. His actions are an affront to what we stand for. What we do is organic. If it was meant to happen, it will happen. We don’t possess magic, as such, just influence.”
“His con is incredibly well implemented. He’s probably been at this for years.” Steve tapped the photo. “We don’t have a real name for him yet, but we think he’s got to be getting supplies locally to make the act look legitimate. If you could just see if you recognize him, if you have any records of his purchases. An address on file. Anything would be a great help to us, to help stop him from disrespecting you and the others who do so much good.”
He thought Steve was laying it on thick and playing the kama ‘aina brah code or whatever too hard, but Haalilio finally looked at the photo.
Danny was good at reading people. He’d been good at it long before he’d joined the force – his mother liked to jokingly tell him he’d come out of her womb already a cop, which was an image he could do without, actually, though he appreciated the sentiment. He wasn’t a believer in destiny so much, yet contradictorily did feel like he’d been built for a cop’s life. On the job training had honed his innate ability to recognize bullshit into a pretty decent skill. His bullshit meter didn’t move at all with Haalilio. Danny knew before the shopkeeper spoke that he didn’t know their dirtbag.
“I’m sorry,” Haalilio said. “I’ve never seen him before.”
That didn’t surprise Danny, in the sense that he’d already ascertained Haalilio’s answer and because it would have been too easy. They had to hope Chin and Kono would have better luck at the last shop, or the search would be broadened to other islands. Steve seemed sure the whole operation was limited to O’ahu. So far, what few paper trails they had were here.
“It’s okay.” Danny pulled out his wallet, withdrew a business card. “Do us a favor, if he’s stupid enough to surface here, give us a call?”
“Kay den.” Haalilio nodded slowly again. His fingers toyed with the edge of the card, and studied him and Steve with dark, unreadable eyes.
Danny in particular held his interest, or at least that was the way it seemed to him. He was a tad paranoid, so he couldn’t be sure. He shot Steve a look, but his partner had already headed for the door.
“You’re not a believer,” Haalilio said.
“No offense, but no, sir.” See? Old dogs could learn new tricks. That was polite as hell. “It’s not my thing.”
“Your partner isn’t either, but I think he’s more accepting, having grown up here.”
“Yeah, he’s a real … never mind. Let’s just say I get that a lot on this topic,” Danny said, with a frown and a head tilt. He took a step back, wanted the conversation over. “I don’t think I have to believe to want justice for the victims.”
“No, of course not. And I don’t judge, Detective,” Haalilio said. He reached out and clasped Danny by the elbow. “One thing before you go. I sense … your ‘uhane, your soul, is unsettled.”
Danny cleared his throat, shook his head. He really didn’t want to talk about his soul and its issues. Not with a purveyor of all things Danny didn’t believe in. Not with anyone, really. Haalilio’s hand was warm through the rolled up layers of his sleeves. Danny found the touch comforting but also strange.
“My soul’s fine. It’s better than fine, in fact, but thank you for your concern.”
“Pololei.”
Haalilio smiled at him and nodded once, eyes deep and intense as he stared a hole right through Danny. He let go of Danny’s arm just as Danny was about to wrench free, and for a moment the room spun. Danny had to put out a hand and leaned on the nearest display table to keep from falling. When the world righted, Haalilio had scooted behind the counter. Danny frowned and stood there for a moment, until Steve poked his head through the door.
“You coming, Danno, or do you really need a spiritual helping hand?”
“Yeah. Sure. Okay, I’m coming,” Danny said.
As he reached the door, Haalilio called out, “All things will be made clear, Detective Williams, if you only seek to learn the truth.”
“Seeking to learn the truth is my job.”
“Then our paths are not dissimilar; however, that’s not what I meant.”
Because that was not weird at all, Danny thought as he gave Haalilio the stink eye, and then stepped into the bright sunshine to find his partner leaning all casual and ridiculous on the hood of the Camaro, arms folded across his chest, muscles bulging.
H50H50H50
The lighting wasn’t for mood, though Danny had to admit it did cast some very interesting shadows on his partner’s face, which often put him in a mood not entirely appropriate for the situation. Somehow the lighting made the already handsome Steve McGarrett even more so. Intimidating too, of course, but mostly hot to the point of distraction. No, bringing out the fine points of Steve’s cheekbones was not the intent of the room’s lighting and design. It was just a happy, if somewhat unfortunate for him, side effect, Danny thought. The dimness of the room was supposed to create an element of unease in the usually guilty lowlifes cuffed in the chair. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the atmosphere worked like a charm, especially when coupled with some of his own excellent questioning techniques and the lack of any basic niceties like windows or climate control.
Truthfully, this guy’s easy calm made Danny’s blood boil a little, which wasn’t an uncommon reaction for him. He actually knew he was a bit of a hothead. He did make attempts to not let his irritation show, though they usually failed, and today Danny caught Steve sending him looks now and again which told him that he was failing harder than usual. That was all right. Steve could get in his head like no one’s business pretty much any day of the week, even if he didn’t realize it, but as long as the bad guys couldn’t when it counted most, it didn’t matter. He wished he could pinpoint what it was about Junior “Pu'uwai” Kealoha’s cool, blank expression that had him bothered.
Something about the whole takedown bothered him, if he were going to be honest, ate away at the corners of his brain like a termite slowly destroying the foundation of what had been a perfectly sound home. It wasn’t just that it had involved an extensive amount of running and sweating, which Danny never enjoyed the way Steve seemed to. It wasn’t even that it had taken them a stupid amount of time tracking the asshole down. No, it was that Kealoha had been animated as any criminal trying to outrun the law, until the law caught him. Then he’d turned into this robot, as if he had an on/off switch. It seemed pretty obvious to Danny that they weren’t going to get a damn thing out of him anytime soon. They didn’t need it, per se, but there was satisfaction in obtaining a confession to make the case airtight. Especially, he had to admit, when the dirtbag was particularly dirty.
Danny had a massive headache brewing about this stupid fraud case and, since he was already about to publicly blow his gasket, saw no reason to hide that either. He’d hated it from minute one, hated that the task force was called in to assuage the wounded pride of one of the governor’s friends. It felt like an exploitation of executive power, and he had to focus on the little people who’d been cleaned out and not the big name catalyst that had pulled them in. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes for a brief moment. A touch to his elbow had him straighten and look at McGarrett before they edged closer to the door, out of Kealoha’s earshot for a sidebar.
“He’s not going to give us anything,” Steve said quietly.
“You thought that too, eh?” Danny said. He scrubbed a hand down his face. He hadn’t slept well last night, and the foot chase to catch this guy hadn’t helped. He was cranky and he was hungry and the very beginnings of an idea formed. “The case isn’t riding on a confession, but I want that smug bastard to spill his guts. I’m about five minutes from beating it out of him.”
“Such a temper on you, Danno. Besides, no, you’re not. I know you better than that.”
“Shut it. You know what I mean. A confession is always vindication.”
“Yeah. I doubt we’ll ever be able to pin down exactly how extensive his con was without direct information from him. Too many victims will never come forward. I’m actually kind of impressed that everything wasn’t at his house. And every little bit helps make a case cut and dried, yeah? I say we keep going for it. He’s only been in custody, what, four hours? He’s gotta crack eventually.”
“I’d like to think so. How you want to play it? Leave him in here to stew for a good long while? Or we could tag team Chin and Kono in here, let them take a crack. I know Kono’s chomping at the bit to get at this guy,” Danny mumbled. “Who knew she’d be such a champion for the hopeless romantics out there?”
Kono, of all of them, had been the only one outwardly outraged at Kealoha’s game. Not the fraud itself, but the manner in which he did it, preying on people looking for love at all costs. In many cases, Danny suspected that cost was incredibly high and not only financially. People who were willing to give up that much money for the hope of love were desperately lonely. He knew better than most that loneliness and stupidity often went hand in hand.
Before Kono had come out with guns blazing on this particular topic, Danny had, in fact, known their youngest team member was tenderhearted. He knew how to read many people, after all. Tough exteriors often revealed soft, squishy insides. He blinked up at Steve, the epitome of tough exteriors. For some reason, he couldn’t tell if Steve followed the rule or not. He tended to follow no rules, at least no rules that made any sense for regular people.
“She’ll shred him into teeny, tiny pieces.”
“Probably,” Steve said with a toothy grin.
Something in Danny’s own squishy heart ached. The sheer number of insane things that made Steve look so joyful was astonishing. Danny couldn’t always appreciate the source of the glee, but damned if he didn’t look forward to those silly grins. Hardass Navy SEAL Steve had mellowed out into this giant goofball Steve most of the time, and Danny couldn’t help but grin himself. He had it bad, and he deep down knew he was a fool for letting it get to this point.
“You actually like to watch as much as you like to get right up in there, don’t you? Animal,” Danny said with an eyebrow waggle.
“Huh,” Steve said.
Steve’s left eye squinted, the muscles in his cheek ticked as his smile changed slightly. No doubt about it, Steve … twitched. That was the only word for it, twitched, and before Danny could parse exactly what that meant, his partner’s expression switched to a careful, unreadable mask. It was an odd enough reaction to make Danny want to push but, catching the dark shadows highlighting the planes and angles of Steve’s face reminded him where he was, what they were both doing.
He glared over at Kealoha, who stared sullenly back. Danny had no idea how anyone had been duped by that asshole. Nothing about him screamed love. Of course, the closemouthed robot routine couldn’t have been the one he’d used on his victims.
“Okay, let’s stick with it for a few more minutes,” Danny said. He glanced at Kealoha to make it appear as if they were talking seriously about him. He pulled out his phone, jotted off a message as quickly as his goofy thumbs would allow. “Maybe Chin Ho can pull out whatever magic trick is up his sleeve to track down this guy’s little black book if we can give him enough time. We can break for lunch, find out what he and Kono know and maybe send ‘em in after.”
“What’s a few more minutes?” Steve shrugged and turned back to Kealoha.
They’d connected the guy to the lonely senator’s losses easily enough, which was more than enough to put him away. Apparently the dollar signs in his eyes had blinded him to the fact his own damned con was designed for small sums spread out over many victims. He hadn’t known how to handle a big score, the moron. Somewhere along the way, though, Danny had actually developed a vested interest in justice for the nameless victims. It couldn’t possibly have a thing to do with his own hopeless situation, which may or may not be romantic. Oh, hell. There was no point in lying to himself. It was.
“Let’s start at the very beginning,” Steve said.
“A very good place to start,” Danny added.
Steve’s eyebrows shot up. Sue him, everyone knew The Sound of Music. Danny shrugged.
“It’s gonna be very tedious rehashing all of the stuff you should have already told us, but I’m game.” Danny took the lead in their Annoying Cop/Brooding Cop routine, though he often argued that he didn’t always have to be the Annoying Cop. The argument never seemed to stick. “This could go on for hours. What’s our record in here?”
“Thirty-six hours, I think,” Steve said.
“Yeah, thirty-six hours.” Danny snapped his fingers thoughtfully. It was complete bullshit, of course. No perp would sit there and take it for that long without lawyering up. “Yeah, I remember that. Brutal.”
“I know my rights, pua’a haole,” Kealoha said all of a sudden. “You can’t keep me here without food and water for that long.”
Perfect, really. It was like the guy had read his mind.
“Listen to that, the first thing out of his mouth for hours and it’s both a demand and an insult. Not a good way to start off, buddy. And what is it with you people and haole, anyway? I gotta tell you, it’s unoriginal,” Danny said to Kealoha. He started pacing, waving his arms about. “The funny thing about the word haole is that if you hear it often enough, it stops sounding real. I suppose it’s the same for many words. Like bacon. I’d like some bacon on that mac and cheese, please. How about an extra side of bacon with the pancakes? Last week, Sally was out in the sun too long and got fried like bacon. Move over bacon, now there’s something meatier. See? Am I right or what? Bacon sounds funny now.”
On the other side of and slightly behind Kealoha, Steve’s nostrils flared as he obviously tried to maintain his blank expression. Danny winked at him. Oh, yeah. Some Hawaiian words were easier to pick up on and remember than others, and he didn’t mean haole. Pig was just another word that rolled off his shoulders after so many times hearing it, no matter the language.
“It does sound funny,” Steve said mildly. “It also sounds delicious, for the record.”
“You’re right, it does, and you know, actually, I’m feeling a little hungry. I could eat.” Danny patted his stomach and kept his attention on Steve rather than Kealoha. “Could you eat?”
“You know me. I’m practically a human garbage disposal.”
Danny had to clamp down on a tongue for a second on that one. He knew for a fact that of the two of them, Steve thought he was the garbage disposal. There was no way Steve would touch bacon unless it was a special occasion or something. Annoying, adorable, incredibly fit jerk. He waved a finger in the air, half at Steve and half at Kealoha.
“Since we can, in fact, leave this yahoo in here without food and water for a while longer without any legal or ethical issues – at least I have no ethical problem…”
“Me either,” Steve said, spreading a hand across his chest like he thought someone might be confused about who he was talking about.
“Then what say you and I grab a plate while Don Juan here ponders his transgressions?”
Steve nodded with more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary, but Danny appreciated the effort. It was essential when they were doing a thing that they go with the flow even if one of them was more informed on said thing than the other. Shit knew Danny had to practice that skill way more often in their partnership than Steve ever did. He enjoyed the hell out of their things, though it probably didn’t seem that way. The more he bitched about something, the less it actually bothered him. He thumbed to the door, lifted his eyebrows and they both headed for the exit in near perfect synchronization. They ignored Kealoha’s protests and closed the door behind them with a satisfying bang.
“I thought we were going to stick with it a bit longer,” Steve said as they walked through the bowels of the Palace. His arm nudged Danny’s shoulder they moved so closely together.
Danny took a tiny sidestep, for his own sanity. He grinned, though. “Eh, I actually am hungry. It’s hard work standing around watching that asshole stonewall us.”
“Seems counterintuitive to leave after he’s finally said something, though.”
“Not really. You’ll see.”
Chin and Kono had lunch already purchased, and Danny enjoyed Steve drawing his steps to a halt and the confused look on his face. Danny waved his phone.
“What, did you think I was playing Angry Birds in there like you were?” Danny asked.
“It was Tetris. It’s addicting.”
“Very old school of you.” Danny held out his hand. “Thanks, babe.”
“Nah, minahs,” Kono said, with a dismissive wave of her hand after she passed the food to Danny.
“I take it Kealoha hasn’t talked yet,” Chin said.
“Nope, but he will. I have a feeling. C’mon, and bring an extra bottle or two of water.”
“You’re devious.” Steve grinned at him, fully on board with the plan by now. He grabbed four bottles of water and trotted after Danny back toward Kealoha. “You claim I’m the one playing fast and loose with perps, but you’re scary, man.”
“Don’t forget it, McGarrett,” Danny said as he shoved the interrogation door open. He glanced at Kealoha. “We missed you, sweetheart. Couldn’t stay away for five minutes. You don’t mind if we eat while we wait for you to talk?”
They put on a good show. Never one to care much about table manners when he was with his male friends, Danny made sure to crank it up several notches. Oddly, Steve was the one who looked like he was going to have a fit while Kealoha remained stonefaced. As he and Steve ate and drank and made merry, though, and after half of Danny’s shrimp were gone he swore he caught the guy licking his lips and heard the rumbling of a hungry stomach. They weren’t the only ones who’d been running and jumping out there half the night, after all.
“Oh, I’m sorry. How rude of us.” Danny wiped his mouth with a napkin, bobbed his head at Steve, who merely shoved a garlic shrimp into his already full mouth. “Eating all this delicious food right in front of you. Did you want something?”
Kealoha glared at him for a second, but then his eyes locked on the bottled water sitting on the floor, just out of his reach where Steve had carefully placed it.
“Water,” Kealoha mumbled.
“Pardon?”
“I want water.”
“That’s funny, because you know what I want? I want you to fricking tell us every last little thing we want to know. Why don’t you just go ahead and tell us?” Danny said calmly, then took a long, slow drink of water.
It was then the damnedest thing happened.
For some reason, Kealoha started sweating at Danny’s words. Well, started sweating more profusely. It was strange, because what Danny had said wasn’t anything that hadn’t been insinuated before. This was, after all, an interrogation, but panic darkened Kealoha’s eyes and he started shaking so hard the chair rattled. He bit his lip and moaned. Danny would have called bullshit because Kealoha was a damned grifter, but it actually sort of looked like he was in serious medical distress. As much as the guy halfway deserved a stroke – karma and all – Danny didn’t want the jerkoff to die on his watch. Too much paperwork. He and Steve abandoned their plates to the dirty floor and converged on Kealoha at the same time.
Before either Danny or Steve reached him, Kealoha’s mouth opened and, with a stunned expression on his face, he sang like a canary. Just like that.
H50H50H50
Danny turned, leather seat squeaking beneath his ass. He probably looked like a goof, sitting there staring at the entrance of the building but not budging an inch. Steve’s eyebrows were up, his eyes nothing but sincere and he shouldn’t even be there. He’d been driving when the call came in, of course. He didn’t want to remind Steve that this was Danny’s thing to deal with, no one else’s, just like he didn’t want to have anyone else witness this. It was bad enough he had to do it.
“No, it’s okay. It shouldn’t take that long,” Danny said. “Wait here.”
“Nowhere else to be.” Steve shrugged, opened his mouth, hesitated for a fraction of a second before he said, “This is probably nothing, you know. Grace is a good kid.”
“I know that, she’s mine.”
Danny took a deep breath and got out. He was well practiced at expecting the worst outcome for any given situation. The way he looked at life was that if the worst was anticipated and it didn’t happen, the non-horrible ending would be that much more pleasant. It didn’t make total sense to the average person, he knew that, but it worked for him. He enjoyed the extra thrill of survival after thinking he was as dead as dead could possibly get, for example, and he challenged anyone to defy there was some sort of logic in there for other non-lethal aspects of his existence as well. The worst case scenarios he played in his head rarely lived up to what happened in real time, thank fuck, because he was talking end of times dire prognostication ever since he’d been roped in as Steve’s partner. Steve came perilously close to disaster on a daily basis as far as Danny was concerned.
The one thing in which he’d never actually entertained terrible, horrible, raze-the-building bad things was Grace, except his marriage, and well, hindsight made it pretty clear the reverse philosophy was pretty terrible. Expecting the best and getting the worst was gut wrenching. He didn’t want it to backfire with his daughter. It wasn’t that he hadn’t envisioned about four million horrible things that could happen to Grace. He was a cop. Of course all the misery he’d seen bled into his fertile imagination when it came to his own child. As much as he tried to compartmentalize, some scenes were too graphic and too close to home.
It was that he’d refused to entertain the thought of horrible things happening because of Grace.
Grace was his sweet girl, and sure, deep down he knew she was getting older and slightly less sweet and it would only continue on that path until she got past the teen years. Jesus God, he was not physically capable of contemplating that. It was why he’d created in his mind this magic bubble around her. He also knew he tended to treat her as if she were younger than she actually was. He had issues with his offspring growing up and with so much of it happening when he was not with her. He was big enough to acknowledge he clung to a picture perfect rendition of her. She wasn’t perfect, but damned if he didn’t want every single paltry minute he had with her to leave her with only good memories. Discipline hadn’t been hard for him to stomach pre-divorce, but post-divorce it gave him hives. He scratched at his arm, and resented the hell out of Rachel for being away and therefore making him handle this.
Since he’d gone a full ten years without contemplating all of the ways his kid would turn into some horrible monster or spoiled brat, the floodgates opening produced an epic amount of messiness. As he stalked through the corridors of the Academy of the Sacred Hearts toward the dean’s office, Danny couldn’t decide which thing was at the top of the list. He imagined Gracie inciting a riot in the cafeteria, a giant room full of miniature militants demanding shave ice daily. He thought she could have kicked that Tommy kid in the ‘nads at long last (that one wasn’t so awful, he rather liked it). Maybe she had dirt on her teacher and her blackmail scheme just got blown wide open. He envisioned her with a tiny handlebar moustache, twirling it as she ruled mightily over the whole school, a despot mad with power.
Danny had to reconsider his parenting; warped as it was, he actually felt glimmers of pride at all of those fictional scenarios. He had some mental problems. He was a severely messed-up individual. He barreled through the closed school office’s door, and there sat his little miscreant in the waiting area. Her feet dangled, toes barely touching the ground. Grace sure didn’t look like she’d sprouted tails and a horn. Of course not, because this wasn’t going to be like one of those could-bes rattling around in his head. He checked in briefly with the woman behind the great counter, flashed his ID.
“Dad,” Grace said.
Dad was a relatively new thing. Danny hated it.
“Grace,” he said as he turned to his daughter.
“Mr. Williams is here,” Danny heard the receptionist say as he sat next to Grace.
He put his hand on top of Grace’s head and ruffled her hair, messing up the perfect pigtails. Her scowl deepened rather than turned into a ray of sunshine smile he usually got out of her. Danny had to wonder if maybe he wasn’t so far off in expecting something bad, didn’t have the chance to ask her what was going on before a slender man with long dark hair pulled into a simple ponytail approached them.
“Mr. Williams, hello, Sam Iona,” he said, holding out his hand.
Danny ducked a quick look at Grace as he rose, sighed when she didn’t meet his eyes. He shook Mr. Iona’s hand.
“I’m one of the school’s counselors. Follow me, please.”
“Sure. Ah, would you mind cluing me in what this is about?” Danny asked.
“Your wife didn’t tell you?”
“Ex, and no, she didn’t. She might have tried, but the connection wasn’t too great. I’m going into this blind, as it were.”
Rachel and Stan were on Maui, again. Working on their marriage before the baby was born. Danny wasn’t bitter, not about that, anyway, just that he was stuck playing the disciplinarian with his perfect daughter when he was so out of practice. He’d moved past the other thing and onto greener, if fantastical only, pastures. Like embracing the fact he lusted after his work partner who, as it turned out, had unintentionally been the catalyst for him pulling the idiot move of sleeping with his ex-wife. Not that he was blaming Steve. Nope, not. He’d come to some rather unhappy rediscoveries about himself these past few months. Namely, he was a coward. He could run toward gunshots instead of from, tackle the biggest motherlovin’ brutes and be Steve’s backup in some downright crazy situations, but when it came to the emotional stuff, deep down he was a coward and a stupid one at that.
“Oh, right, of course. I knew that, sorry,” Mr. Iona said as he ushered them into the small office. He had the decency to look embarrassed. Actually, he looked a bit disheveled in general. “Have a seat, both of you.”
Grace slid silently into one of the two chairs set at slight angles in front of the counselor’s desk. Danny took the other, but he didn’t relax into it. His imagination had been kicked into overdrive, but he was not imagining the tension in the room.
“Mr. Williams, Grace had a test in her mathematics class today. After the class let out and the teacher sorted through the tests, he found this,” Mr. Iona said.
He slid a piece of paper across the table toward Danny and there it was. Grace’s name was at the top and the questions were standard. The answers were … not. The answers were some of the most hateful, how-did-his-baby-know-them horrendous words and phrases he’d never expected from any ten-year-old, let alone his sweet, sweet girl, and Danny was not easily shocked. Nor was he the King of Clean Language. He had to bite back expletives even though he now knew just how well Grace knew them and used them in some truly creative ways. Now Danny honestly wished his kid had been the mastermind behind an enormous, academy-wide blackmail scheme. These words … Grace didn’t hate like this.
“You can understand the concern,” Mr. Iona said.
“Yeah,” Danny said stupidly. “Uh.”
Mr. Iona looked at Danny sympathetically, though his eyes were distant. Danny struggled to maintain his composure. He gaped at the counselor for a few moments, then turned his attention to Grace, who apparently found that her left kneecap was about the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen in her short life. He knew there were going to be serious ramifications to this, but what he wanted right now was to understand. That came first, then punishment. Grace’d be lucky if she didn’t get suspended. Did fourth graders get suspended? His brain hurt. His heart hurt, because some of the slurs on that page in his own daughter’s handwriting cut very close to home.
“This isn’t like you. What on earth is going on in that head of yours?” Danny asked softly. “Huh?”
Grace finally looked at Danny. The scowl was gone but what was in its place was worse. Her lower lip trembled. Danny braced himself as Grace burst into tears and started talking at the same time. He couldn’t understand her, didn’t expect to as she hiccupped and sobbed. All he could do was ride it out with her, maneuver her onto his lap for a hug. It was only when Grace had her tear-slicked face pressed into his shoulder that Danny realized she wasn’t the only one in the room crying.
He was at a total loss as to what to do for Mr. Iona, who’d rounded the desk and sat perched on the edge of it. He held a tissue to his face, pressed alternately to his eyes and then nose. Danny was bombarded by two choked voices saying words in a mixed up jumble. Bits and pieces came through, like my sister and they made me and lung cancer and said I’d only be cool if I… but most were ragged, high-pitched words too distorted by crying to be of any use to him.
For several minutes (felt like hours – he kept looking at the door as if rescue would magically come through it), he sat there in a slight, dazed panic while the tears went from torrential to a trickle. Finally, Grace was reduced to trembling against him, face hot and wet against his neck and Mr. Iona looked completely spent. Belatedly, he realized somewhere in there the counselor had reached out, his hand clutched at Danny’s forearm.
It took a few moments, but then Mr. Iona lifted his head, eyes puffy and nose red, and caught Danny right in the eye. Sudden mortification slid across his face. He let go like Danny was a hot potato.
Danny couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved.
“I have no idea…” Mr. Iona said, his voice thick. “Oh.”
“It’s okay, it sounds like you’re going through a rough time.” Danny remained baffled by the sudden oversharing but was not interested in making this any worse than it had to be. “Really, it’s fine.”
Mr. Iona’s lower lip wibbled. Danny was legitimately terrified he’d start crying again. Not that men couldn’t cry. Danny was a firm believer in letting out emotion rather than bottling it in, he was just not equipped to deal with a perfect stranger sobbing on his shoulder at the moment.
“What’re we looking at with this one?” he asked, bobbing his head at his daughter, who didn’t look like she was going to pull away from him anytime soon. He’d say she was sincerely remorseful.
“She’ll have to stay after hours in counseling for at least a week,” Mr. Iona said, sniffing and also looking for some kind of escape route. “This kind of thing has to be taken seriously.”
“I understand. Do you mind if we hash out the details later? I’d like to get her home. Her mother and I are going to have to have a long talk with her.”
Mr. Iona nodded quickly. He probably wanted Danny out of there as much as he wanted to be out of there. Danny did feel bad for the guy. Based on the snippets he’d heard, he should probably consider taking some leave before the stresses of the job coupled with a dying loved one tipped him over the edge. He placed a hand on Iona’s shoulder and squeezed, then fled like the total coward he was when the crying started again. It was all he could do to get out of the building without running, Grace’s legs wrapped around his torso and her head tucked into him. There was a story to Grace’s sudden and proficient use of hate language and he’d hear it, oh would he. But right now, he wanted to get her home.
Steve sat outside the car, leaning on the hood the way he always did, and looking at something in the distance, to the right. Pretty man, pretty car, pretty pose. It was an amazing picture Danny would and did normally enjoy the hell out of, but today he just gave a quick whistle and watched Steve turn to look at them and straighten immediately. Steve went from bored to worried in a millisecond, starting toward them when he saw the state Grace was in.
“Danny,” he said, so much worry in that one word it was actually painful.
“Just get us to my place, huh? It’s okay,” Danny said as he slid awkwardly into the back seat with his octopus daughter still wrapped all around him. In three months, she’d be too damned big for him to carry like this. “She’s all right. It’ll be fine.”
The rumble of the Camaro’s engine and the thrum of tires against asphalt were the only sounds for a while after that, but Danny caught Steve’s frequent glances in the rearview mirror at him and Grace huddled together. Really, the obvious care in Steve’s eyes was the only good thing Danny could take from this miserable afternoon and he did so gladly.