The Moon’s Beloved, Purest Rose of Waikiki

Lucia woke up the next morning hugging one of her snow-white pillows. She sighed and snuggled back into it. She loved her bed. It was one of the few things she splashed out on.

Hand made in Colorado from pure cedar, it was a full two feet wider than a king and three feet longer. The bottom of the frame was solid, and flanked by thick natural boards held in place only by large wooden pegs. The mattresses were also especially made, fine steel coils with wool and foam padding. Lying one on top of the other they made anyone that sank into them feel like they were being pulled into a protective silk cocoon. Of course the sheets were white silk, with a comforter stuffed with goose down, though in colder climates she favored cotton flannel sheets with a few alpaca blankets as well.

She prided herself with this bed fit for a king, and always insisted that it came with her if she stayed in an area more than a week. It had been designed to be relatively easy to dis and reassemble for this purpose.

And nothing was finer than sharing a cozy night in it with one of her rare muses.

One of Lucia’s eyes shot open. She had fallen asleep with a said muse but the bed was only occupied by her. She growled and smacked her pillow, and crawled out of the bed. She grabbed her robe and headed out of the bedroom.

“So he leaves at God knows what time in the morning and doesn’t leave note. How totally un-romantic. That cad.”

“Hey, who’s a cad?!”

Lucia looked up and saw McGarrett standing in her kitchen, wearing his pants and shirt and the horrible lacy apron that the slimly Texan sent her. Why hadn’t she given that thing to the Salvation Army the second she got it? Though McGarrett made it look pretty good.

He put his hands on his hips and stared her down from the step to the kitchen, but it was a little hard to see him as intimidating in that frill fest.

“I’m sorry, you weren’t in bed and I didn’t hear anything.”

“What, doesn’t your nose work?”

Lucia sniffed and caught the scent of either bacon or sausage then sniffed again.

“Smells like its burning.”

McGarrett’s eyes widened.

“Oh no!”

He dove back into the kitchen.

Lucia followed him in and watched with bemusement as he saved the bacon and quickly brought to a small table already set with over easy eggs and biscuits.

“Is this a thank you for last night?”

“No,” he said a he dished some bacon onto their plates, “More like an apology.”

“I don’t think an apology is due.”

“It is.”

He placed the empty plate back on the counter and pulled out her chair for her. He then went around the table to sit down.

“Uh Steve.”

“Hmm?”

“Apron?”

He glanced down and smiled awkwardly.

“Oh, sorry.”

McGarrett quickly undid the strings and hung the ugly thing back up. He sat down and cleared his throat before continuing.

“Lucia I really want this relationship to go somewhere and I realize that being late to dates isn’t going to make that happen nor help us at all. However…”

Lucia froze as she lifted her fork.

“I do think that we need to start doing more than playing artist and subject.”

She inwardly rolled her eyes, here came the hurricane.

“We need to do more together. Get outside, hit the beach, go sailing, sightseeing, anything. Every time I come here all we end up doing is having sex and that does not lead to a healthy relationship. Lucia,” he took her hand, “I want us to be close, I want us to trust each other, and I want us to share more than a sexual attraction. Please, come out to Maui with me next weekend. Lay off the canvas for awhile okay?”

Lucia straitened her back and became as dignified as she could. McGarrett suddenly felt that he was holding the hand of a Prince born of the truest royalty. The Prince smiled and nodded her regal head.

“As you wish.”

*****

Mr. Henry Greenwich was a man who liked to think ahead. Like preparing extra accounts to support him in case of financial crisis, or when he just wanted to hit the town. Or like re-writing his will a few weeks before all three of his marriages. He secretly changed it to make his assets completely unreachable to his wives while they were distracted planning their dream weddings.

And he liked to plan traps into his accounting system to lead any nosy investigators on a wild goose chase if they tried to bring him in for tax evasion and/or embezzlement. Both of which he was guilty, but he’d never say it, and he’d certainly never go to jail for it.

He’d just been dragged through his third divorce and his lawyer had done a fine job again making sure the bitch got next to nothing. He was planning on meeting the man for dinner tonight. Barry was always at his happiest when Henry was single again, he was a jealous guy but Henry often found more patience around Barry then he did with any woman.

Henry finished off his cigar and scotch while staring out the window before leaving. As he mashed the stub into the ashtray, he felt a tiny breeze on his neck.

His hairs stood on end for a moment, and then he calmed and dismissed it.

“Probably an open window.”

“There are no windows open Henry.”

Greenwich didn’t breath or twitch, his heart didn’t beat. He felt a point being pressed into his back, and hot breath on his neck.

“Look up Henry, look into the reflection.”

He slowly lifted his head and stared at the glass. Behind his own terrified, sweaty face he could just barely make out someone crouched behind him. He saw only one colorless glittering eye staring at him. He gasped as the point was pressed further to his back.

“Look to your right.”

Greenwich’s eyes moved from the demonic eye to another shape behind it. He squinted for a second, then his eyes widened again, this time in pure horror.

“Barry!”

Barry was lying on the floor just a few feet away in a crumpled heap. Two tears slid down Henry’s face as he surveyed his greatest love and truest friend lying on the cold floor.

“You killed him,” he whispered.

“No sir, Barry is not dead, just sleeping. Look,” the head nodded slightly towards him, “He still breathes. He’ll wake up in a few hours with a slight headache but otherwise unharmed.”

Henry’s fear and anguish turned to rage.

“If you’re trying to scare me into something, you just failed miserably.”

The eye narrowed and the voice clucked.

“My aim is not to frighten you Henry. You see when Barry wakes up he will be lying on a beach on the North Shore with his arm around you. He may take a few moments to realize it but he will figure out that you are dead, with your blood soaked into his clothes.”

“You want to frame him?! For what, what did he ever do?!”

“It’s what you both did, Henry. It’s what you both did.”

Henry started to speak but was cut off by a sword slicing through him like butter. It slid in, piercing his liver and severing part if his intestine then slid out making the cut just little longer.

That was all it took to dispatch Henry Greenwich quickly and quietly.

Before he fell the killer managed to get a towel around the majority of the wound to keep in some of the blood spill, they then laid him on the side opposite the cut stuffed some rags into it, then wrapped more towels around his abdomen. He was then picked up and loaded into Barry’s car out side. The killer then got Barry in on top of his corpse.

They were driven on back roads to the North Shore. Barry was set gently in some grass while Henry’s body was placed in a sleeping position. Barry was then set next to him, the towels and rags were removed and they pressed Barry up to Henry’s back to get a good amount of blood on him.

The killer took out a garbage bag and threw the bloody rags and gloves into the bag. They put on some new gloves, and pulled another sword out of the trunk along with a dark red bird of paradise.

The sword was dipped into the garbage bag getting some good bloodstains on it then dumped near the two. They plucked a petal from the flower and placed it between Henry’s stiffening hands.

The murderer stood for a moment surveying their work, wondering whether to go back to Greenwich’s house and clean up. They decided that would be best, but just before leaving they swept the sand around the bodies with a nearby palm frond being careful not leave a single print of their own.

Barry loved wearing expensive shoes and never wore them for more than a month. Just a new pair of the same he was wearing for some make shift prints and another sweep and all was set. The frond was thrown aside and the car started up and driven away.

*****

“Who?”

“Barry Menndermen. He was found wandering around the North Shore in a daze with blood all over his clothes. A body was found about half a mile from where he was found. We haven’t been able to identify it yet, but we found something in its hands.”

Danny handed McGarrett a transcript of the communication between the discovering officer and dispatch.

The officer had found a dark red bird of paradise a few feet from the body, missing a petal.

*****

Barry Menndermen was sitting in an interrogation room of the palace wearing a loaned shirt and staring slack jawed at the wall. He hadn’t said a word since he’d been found and didn’t want to.

That is until a six foot blue eyed piece of heaven came strolling in. Barry heaved a huge sigh of relief. He was happy to have a hot detective questioning him instead of the huge sweat bag that brought him the shirt.

“Okay Mr. Menndermen, from the top.”

McGarrett sat down on the tabletop next to him.

“Barry, please call me Barry.”

“Barry.”

He didn’t really pay much attention to what McGarrett said. He assumed he was asking the usual line of questions, and he gave him his foggy memory of events. Barry could tell McGarrett wasn’t buying it, but didn’t care. He was thoroughly enjoying soaking in every detail on that gorgeous face.

Barry’s grin grew to his ears as he continued to stare at McGarrett making the very strait detective suddenly want to ‘kiss’ Lucia very hard. He took a deep breathe and tried to push the interview on. This time when Barry answered his voice took on the drawl of a flirting girl.

McGarrett dropped his head and groaned. It was getting very hard not to yell at Barry.

“Mr. Menndermen you were found…”

McGarrett stopped cold when noticed Barry’s eyes had dropped, lower than his neck but higher than the floor.

“Hey!”

McGarrett grabbed his chin and forced Barry’s head back up. He was still grinning.

“I’m up here.” He pointed to his face.

Barry scoffed.

“That’s what all people would like to think.”

Then without hesitation, he placed his hand on McGarrett’s thigh and squeezed.

McGarrett popped up like a spring and went strait out the door, leaving Barry laughing inside.

Danny came into the offices outside to find McGarrett storming though heading right for the exit.

“Hey Steve, what’d he say.”

McGarrett stopped for a moment then grabbed Danny’s arm and towed him along to his office. He didn’t stop till he had locked the door and run out to the lanai. Danny just stood there a few seconds afraid to move.

“Steve?”

McGarrett just stared murderously out over the palace grounds.

“Steve?”

“Danno!”

Danny jumped and tried to make himself small.

“Yea?”

“Did you ever get that alternative sexuality talk in school?”

“Uh…”

What the hell had brought this up?

“No…nooot really. Why?”

McGarrett glanced back at him a couple of times. Whatever it was, he was having a lot of trouble saying it.

He then turned around and faced Danny. He seemed somewhat calm and comfortable but Danny had never seen anything scarier in his entire life, and he’s seen some shit that would turn all readers white.

“It just made one of the worst interrogations of my life.”

Danny just stared at him still trying to look small.

“Barry is gay Danno.” And he turned back around.

“Gay – gay – gay – gay – gay - gay and not shy about it.”

“Oh.”

Danny relaxed a bit and started over towards his side, then rethought it as he added, “What kind of a person wakes up next to a bloody corpse and then comes on to the interrogating officer?”

Danny started to answer but then.

“Who happens to be of the same sex?!”

Danny paused and shrugged.

“I don’t now Steve.”

“Neither do I Danno.”

Danny just stood there next to him for a few seconds. Then he remembered why Menndermen was in the building in the first place.

“Ah! Steve did he identify the body?”

McGarrett paused, then slapped himself in the face.

“Yea! Yea the John Doe is Henry Greenwich. Business man moved here five years ago after his second divorce.”

“Wait, didn’t he just get divorced?”

“How’d you know that?”

“I heard about the sleaze bag from some lady friends. They were really on a burn a few nights ago. All they talked about was the local girl he married a couple of months after he came here. Said they spent more of the marriage in divorce proceedings than they did living together. I’m not sure what the guy gets, oh got, out of marrying a girl fast and dropping her even faster.”

“Power - control? Who knows? That’s not our concern now. Danno find those ex-wives and give them the news. As far as I can tell he had no other next of kin.”

“You got it Steve.”

*****

Greenwich’s ex-wives were not all that hard to find. The first two had banded together after he moved to Hawaii and were currently having lunch with the third. The first wife Catherine was a New Yorker that was sour tempered when Henry married her and only got worse during the divorce. Anne was his second and might have been his permanent spouse had not Henry cheated on her with Catherine five months into the marriage. Anne somehow forgave Catherine but never forgave Henry. When they heard about Henry’s newest wife Jane, they knew they’d better get over there quick. Jane was going to need some good experienced friends when Henry dumped her.

*****

Danny found the three wives at a restaurant near the Ilikai. He had an inkling of who was who from the rants of the ladies he spoke to a few nights prior. Catherine seemed to be the image of prima donna. Huge flaming red curls, sky blue eyes and a very expensive outfit drew you in but also sent you the other way. Danny could see why Henry probably got tired of her as he watched her take out her compact and apply some more lip-gloss.

Anne was Catherine’s opposite. She wore cheaper but tasteful clothes and strait sleek black locks. She seemed to have a bit of mixed ancestry, her hair a little course and her green eyes were in sharp contrast with her dark skin.

Jane looked like Little Bo Peep reincarnated.

Her blonde hair was a mass of flyaway frizz the she struggled to bring under rein every morning. She too had sky blue eyes that always looked a little sad. She was very thin and short and appeared perpetually 16 and naďve, an appearance that far from true. Jane was 25 and one of the highest of her psychology class and heading up an internship in the state’s finest psychiatric facility.

Danny took a huge breathe and confronted the Greenwich ex-wives’ club.

*****