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The Moon’s Beloved, Purest Rose of Waikiki

By Isabeau Saberhagen © 9-14-2006

Chapter 3

A week later, Danny was still sniggering about Steve forgetting his shirt. Five months before Danny had a quick relationship with a local girl and when he came back from a lunch date at her place it was without his tie. Danny was savoring his vengeance for McGarrett’s two-week long banter about the incident. He had, of course told every member of the team as soon as he saw them, all of whom nearly laughed their heads off and gave McGarrett some grief of their own.

McGarrett had managed to quell everyone else but Danny insisted on pursuing it into the next weekend.

“Now just why would you forget something like a shirt?”

McGarrett groaned.

“For the umpteenth time Danno, I had the coat. I made the bird of paradise connection, not to mention Lucia would have had to take the shirt off in the doorway to get it to me in time. I left at the speed of light. Now when are you going to stop bothering me about this?”

“I’ll stop doing it when you stop smiling.”

McGarrett was smiling. He turned to the lanai and surveyed the late night palace grounds.

“On more serious and literally deadly subjects, we have yet to get a solid lead in the Alika case.”

“Yea, I’m starting to think it might go cold.”

“Danno don’t say that!”

McGarrett whirled around and pounded his desk.

“Never say that! A case only gets cold if we let it!”

“But Steve, aside from form the shoe print and the flower we got nothing, absolutely nothing.”

“There is something, I guarantee you; there’s something we’ve missed or have yet to find that is the key to cracking this case.”

Danny shook his head and sighed.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a rival crime lord that got some professional help.”

“Okay! That’s a theory, go with it!”

Danny choked on his sip of coffee.

“You are kidding me right?”

“No way in flaming hell. Ask some questions; check the grapevine. If another syndicate hired a pro to get rid of Alika then there has to be someone who heard, especially if the help was from out of town.”

Danny concealed a slight eye role as he heaved himself up and out to his office. The most he could do at this ungodly hour was write up a list of people, questions, and places they’d likely be tomorrow…er, Monday, no wait, technically tomorrow was Monday as of (he checked his watch) ten minutes ago. Danny groaned.

“I have definitely been here way too long. I’ll write the list, and I’ll go home.”

He did after an hour of working at his typewriter while his eyelids got heavier and heavier.

Before leaving, he popped his head into McGarrett’s office to see what he was doing as was his habit.

The head of Five-0 was smiling down at the grounds below from his lanai, leaning on the banister and laughing periodically.

Through the quiet night, Danny could hear a song filtering up to his ears. Slowly he could make out the words of a love ballad being sung from the grounds but couldn’t decide if the voice was male or female till it hit a high note that no man could reach.

McGarrett now had his elbows on the banister with his head cupped in his hands as he stared lovingly down at whoever was singing.

Danny felt a blush creep up his neck at it finally dawned on him that his boss and friend, the cop and naval commander, Steven McGarrett was being serenaded by a woman on the grounds and he was actually enjoying it.

Danny’s free hand flew to cover his face as the blush grew to his cheeks. The song was a very lovely one, a story of a poor but handsome stable man waiting for years as his true love marries an ageing lord as his final companion. After fifteen years of waiting, the lord dies, his wife inherits his wealth, estate and titles and rides triumphantly too the inn stable where they met and fell in love.

A month later, she takes him as her husband and declares him the son of the lord, thus giving him all the power of her previous husband. Your standard happily ever after love ballad.

When the singer finished McGarrett stood up and headed over to the table on the far side of the office. Danny ducked back to avoid being spotted as Steve plucked a single red rose from the bouquet Lucia had sent him at noon that same day. He then tossed it to his serenader and blew the woman a kiss. Danny gulped and left the office in a hurry.

Lucia held the rose he had thrown to her lips as he blew her a small kiss from his balcony. It had taken her all week to write the lyrics and match them to the appropriate tune. All things considered she had done quite well. She even managed to get an illicit audience to her little performance. She barely stifled her laugh as she saw Dan Williams bolt to his car.

This had been a truly good idea to get her confidence up for tonight.

While Sunday morning meant a day off and/or a day of cleansing prayer for some, for the Five-0 team it meant an all-new headache.

*****

A local pretty boy was missing. Alan Moor, a blonde surf boy who supported his party all night sleep all day lifestyle buy freelance modeling for high-end stores.

The only thing that got McGarrett interested in the case was the evidence, or more appropriately the lack of evidence.

Just some oversized shoe prints in the dirt outside his first floor apartment and rumpled sheets suggesting he had sat up in bed.

It was Tony Alika all over again - no hairs, no fibers, no marks, no struggle, no tracks, no sound, and no witnesses. Moor’s apartment and the ground outside were searched and searched again with a fine toothcomb but there was still nothing. Their timeline ended at 11 o’clock when a buddy called him and asked him if he was coming to join him at a popular disco. Moor declined saying he’d been dancing the last twenty-four hours non-stop and just wanted to sleep. He also told his buddy to meet him at the beach to scope out the waves and girls but Moor never arrived.

McGarrett’s gut felt horrible, akin to an endless pit blocked by a huge bolder considering the boy’s fate. He was probably dead on a beach, being ignored because of how closely he resembled a beach bum sleeping off some booze. Most likely, no one would suspect otherwise till he developed an odor.

McGarrett closed his eyes and forced away the thought. There was a chance he was still alive as long as he was missing, but no one was holding their breath.

*****

Sure enough, after having officers on regular beats comb the beaches near the apartment they found Alan Moor on his right side with his hands beneath his head and a dark red petal tucked between them.

*****

McGarrett decided to contact a psychologist with the cases and try to get a better make on the killer.

As the doctor came into his office, he began explaining that with what the killer had left behind he probably couldn’t offer anything Steve didn’t deduce himself, before McGarrett even got his hello out.

“Doctor, please just calm down. Have seat and tell me what you do know.”

“As I stated before not much.”

“Well, is this an assassin or a first timer, male or female, young or old, psycho or normal?”

The doctor shook his head when McGarrett said male or female.

“Steve the questions I can answer definitively are the first and last.”

“Then answer them.”

“This is probably just a first timer with a good knowledge of police tactics, otherwise, an ordinary citizen with no criminal record, high intelligence, and a basic knowledge of investigation. They seem to know that if you don’t get any good clues in the first twenty-four hours of a murder your chances of finding them are cut in half.”

“Okay Doc, that’s good now what about their mental state?”

“I’ve torn through that file you gave me all night. I’m still not able to find a solid motive. All I have is a notion, and a rather disturbing one at that.”

“Tell me.”

“Alright, but don’t shoot the messenger.”

McGarrett raised an eyebrow but motioned for him to continue.

“I believe the common connection between these two, the reason the same killer targeted these completely different men, is you. First your worst and most powerful enemy on the islands, then the young model who on several occasions boasted that he was a far more handsome than you. This person lashes out at anyone who has hurt or humiliated you in any way.”

“You’re joking right?”

“Most certainly not. Personally I think you’re looking for a young female, but the evidence suggests that both of these victims were carried of before being killed.”

“And neither one was the type to go quietly.”

McGarrett tapped on his desk with a pencil trying to make sense of this new information.

“So we’ve either got a strong gal of a guy on or hands.”

“Yes.”

“Why do think this person is obsessed with me?”

“That’s anyone’s guess. A girl with a crush maybe, trying to show you the extent of her love, or a man who envies you.”

McGarrett leaned back in his chair and groaned a bit.

“Personally I’d prefer it be female. I’m not really going to sleep soundly with the thought that there’s some guy out there with a thing for me.”

*****

After the discovery of Alan Moor’s body and his chat with the doctor, McGarrett’s case made no further advancements. How he wished this sicko would get cocky and call him, write him or boast about it in some other way. They seemed almost to shy to though, either that or there was such a thing a as an intelligent murderer. McGarrett would never say it out loud, but this case was starting to make it seem true.

McGarrett brooded on the lanai, watching cars file home in the sunset. What the hell was going on on the island he had been charged to keep safe?

*****

A week later with no new bodies found, Five-0 was no closer to finding the killer. McGarrett had everyone out asking for any kind of information, any whisper about the killings and their culprit. Chin combed all of his contacts in the Asian community; Kono talked to every native ring, while Danny asked every one of the surf boys and sun girls on the beaches he himself frequented.

Nothing, absolutely nothing. Sure, people were talking about the deaths, it was the hottest topic in Waikiki, and some people were even saying they took part in it, but were quickly revealed as your average barroom braggarts. Whoever really did this was not talking about it.

Meanwhile Lucia was seeing less and less of her new muse. Finally, he blew off a session all together. Of course he called and apologized profusely afterwards, and agreed to come over the same night.

Lucia watched as McGarrett’s Mercury pulled up at 10. An impish grin played her lips at the thought of all she had planned. She was going to show him just what happened when you broke plans with Lucia Cornwallis.

*****

“You want me to model nude?”

“Yes.”

McGarrett squirmed, he’d been hoping to just do a few sketches and maybe settle down for the night with her beside him. He hadn’t been sure just how mad he had gotten her till she smiled wickedly and told him to take off his suit.

Not that he had anything against the artistic representation of the human body, but his own? He had severely underestimated his modesty.

“Steve please, you had to know this was coming.”

“Yes but…”

McGarrett withdrew more and more, crossing his legs a bit folding his arms. He looked like a half-angry half-pouting 14-year-old girl. Lucia just barely held back a snigger.

“Okay how about this. We’ll ease our way into it. One garment at a time, I’ll draw once with each one. That sound better?”

McGarrett sighed and nodded his head. He then reluctantly unbuttoned his jacket and slid it off.

“What the heck is wrong with you? You act like I’ve never seen you before.”

McGarrett jumped and blushed at the memory of their first time. He certainly hadn’t been shy then.

He got up on the stool as Lucia turned out the ceiling lights and turned on a few lamps placed around it.

She finished the first sketch at lightning speed and switched positions. McGarrett removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt a bit. Again, Lucia finished at record speed and moved in front of him. He took a deep breathe and removed the shirt all together.

“Don’t steal this one now,” he said as he let it slip from his arms.

Lucia chuckled and started drawing. She took a second longer as she just drank him in. He leaned back on the stool, letting the lamp light throw dramatic shadows over his chiseled deep chest.

Oh what a man he was!

She raced through the sketch, but did not change positions. McGarrett undid his shoelaces and kicked them off along with his socks. Lucia almost protested till he put the stool aside, adjusted the lamps, threw her the same evil smile she gave him, then posed on the floor with his knees clamped together facing away from her, and his torso twisted around to her.

One hand lay on the floor for support, and the other was draped over his legs. His face was turned down in classic modesty, but his expression was not modest.

This time Lucia took a deep breathe as she started on the next drawing. She took much longer this time as she had trouble concentrating on her work and not her subject.

When she finally finished she almost wished he wouldn’t undress. The tables had turned, and McGarrett was very much enjoying her squirming as he slowly stood, stretched, and slowly laid hands on his belt. He played with it for a moment before undoing it and slowly pulling it from the loops. Lucia swallowed hard as found her gaze sifting between his belt and his burning blue eyes locked on hers.

He hooked his thumbs under the blue fabric and let his lips part a bit before loosening them and finally letting everything drop. He stepped out of the heap of cloth and kicked it off to the side.

He spread his arms in invitation then said, “How do you want me?”

Lucia chocked and dropped her head.

“Doesn’t matter,” she muttered.

McGarrett smiled and took a new pose. He didn’t think she’d make it through half a drawing.

He was wrong. She made it through one.

*****

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