Terri's Jack Lord Connection
Terri's Jack Lord Connection
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The Moon’s Beloved, Purest Rose of Waikiki By Isabeau Saberhagen © 4-2-2007 Chapter 8 Sally started out to the microphone to introduce McGarrett but felt a hand on her shoulder pulling her back. “Honey, do you think I need an intro tonight?” Sally smiled and stepped aside. The crowd in the bar didn’t even notice as the first few notes of his song began. But slowly their ears picked up over the din the sound of orchestral strings and light brass. Their eyes turned to the stage and they saw a male figure silhouetted by a blue glass panel behind him. He was barely lit by one small spotlight, but there was no mistaking who that was. Without warning two more spotlights came on, illuminating him completely joined by the sounds of heavy electronic bass and muted trumpets creating the music to which he began to dance in the most arrogant, but sexy way. On either side of him two more male figures mimicked his movements. The bass and trumpets slowed for a moment, and he began to sing.
***** At the same time, Barry was wondering around backstage. With everyone’s attention on McGarrett, he figured he could sneak back safely and find McGarrett’s room. He dodged past several people and barreled into the room that seemed right. It probably was, he could smell that same musky, spicy man scent that McGarrett just seemed to ooze. He stopped for a moment and just took in the aroma of his new Adonis. Out in the bar and by the stage, everyone was enraptured by this new side of hard nosed no nonsense cop.
***** Barry shook his head a bit that brought himself back to reality. He had a letter to leave and intended to find a handkerchief or something like that that he wouldn’t miss and would carry that scent. Barry left his sappy love letter on the dressing table and dug around just a little before finding exactly what he was after. Neatly folded in one of the drawers was a pure white handkerchief with the initials S.A.M embroidered into its corner. *****
***** He was so busy taking in the fine stitching and even finer scent he didn’t notice figure standing behind him and the gleaming blade in its hand. *****
“You should ask, Barry; before you go stealing another man’s handkerchief.” Barry snorted. “Ask who, bitch?” “Anyone of consequence.” “And are you anyone of consequence, whore?” “I am, considering t’was I whom killed Henry Greenwich.” His blood ran cold.
As these final words were sung, the ancient blade was slowly raised, pulled back, and driven through Barry’s heart. The blade was removed with one stroke, the majority of the blood thrown off with a flick of the wrist, and the killer exited. No one saw them as they left with bloody blade in hand, and any trail ended when the katana was returned to its black sheath. ***** McGarrett finished his song with a sweeping bow and a sizzling smile. Sally’s bar nearly blew at its seams. All that was left was for him to wait. Backstage once again, he dragged Lucia into his arms and away from the squealing fans and friends, off to her room with every intention of peeling off that spectacular dress, but leaving the shoes and jewelry on. He had barely dragged her into the door of her dressing room when Danny came running in. “Steve, someone just found a body in your room.” “What? Who?” “One of the guys working backstage.” McGarrett kissed Lucia’s forehead. “Sorry baby, gotta go.” “It’s okay.” She pecked him on the lips and let him run off to the job she knew would always come first in his life. ‘Well,’ she thought, ‘mine pretty much has the same place in mine too.’ ***** McGarrett saw at least a dozen people gathered outside the door to the dressing room. The guy who found the body was already being interviewed, but of course McGarrett had some questions he needed to ask himself. “Excuse me, sir. When did you find the body? And why did you go in that room?” “I didn’t go in that room, mister, the door was wide open and I just looked in.” McGarrett glanced over his shoulder and saw that the door was as wide as it could be. “Okay.” He nodded and left the man to the interrogating officer. As he approached the door he saw the shoes and legs and the end of a huge puddle of blood. The coroner was already leaning over him, but reluctant to get near the massive amount of blood. “Who is it Doc?” “Haven’t checked for ID yet.” “Then check.” The photographer nodded his okay; the coroner sighed and maneuvered his way around the blood, then finally managed to turn the guy over. His face looked like something out of a horror film, stained red and contorted into an expression pure terror. “You think saw his attacker, doctor?” “That stab wound is through and through, but its looks like it came in from behind.” “Poor bastard.” McGarrett watched as the coroner gingerly checked the pockets, staring almost blankly at the face. Then it hit him. “Wait doc, you don’t need to find the ID now.” “Why, you know him?” “Yes, he was the man they found stained with blood on the beach about a week ago.” “You mean with the Bird of Paradise’s last victim?” “Yea, Barry Menndermen.” “Why would someone kill him?” “I don’t know yet.” Danny stepped into the room with Barry’s gruesome body, having noticed something wadded in the blood. “Hey Doctor, you got like a pair of tweezers or something?” “Yea, just a sec.” He pulled a large tweezers out of his case and handed them to Danny. Very carefully he flattened out the wad of cloth and started to pick it up. It was completely saturated; it oozed and dripped as it was removed from the floor. The coroner groaned and shook his head. “You I’ve been working this job for seven years. I’ve never seen so much blood come from on man. This sucker is like the human version of popped tick.” “You can say that again.” Muttered Danny and let the cloth drain off a bit. Finally he brought it down on the clean floor and pulled the sticky folds apart. “Uh, Steve.” “What Danno?” “This is one of your handkerchiefs.” “It is; I didn’t recognize it.” “Can’t say I blame you.” “Are you sure its mine?” “Uh-huh, I just see your initials in the corner.” McGarrett came into the room and knelt down behind him. “So Barry was trying to take a handkerchief? Why?” Danny smirked a bit. “I think he liked you Steve.” McGarrett shot him a burning look that made him cringe. “Why kill him over a handkerchief?” “You think it’s the Bird of Paradise again?” “Maybe, it has one of those traits, but something’s not right.” “So what do we do?” “Follow the evidence, Danno.” ***** McGarrett stayed up as long as he could working on Barry’s murder. With the autopsy set for the next afternoon, and all friends and family notified but unwilling to talk at such an ungodly hour he was forced to call it quits at about one am. He came into his office intending to sleep for a few hours then head home to shower and change. He found something very sweet and already sleeping on his couch. Lucia was curled up like a kitten in the same dress she had preformed in. McGarrett smiled and brushed some of the hair out of his fiancée’s eyes. He considered waking her but instead just squeezed in behind her and held as tightly as he could. With her warm little body in firm in his grasp and her heavenly moonlight scent enveloping him, he was soon falling into a deep sleep. He left a few ghostly kisses on her neck and ear before drifting off. ***** McGarrett awoke with the first rays of the sun filtering into his office. Sweet Lucia had turned in her sleep and now had her face buried in his chest, with her hands tucked in between them like soft paws. He nuzzled her head and gave her a squeeze to wake her. She didn’t, she moaned and cozied deeper into his arms. Very gently he kissed her a few times then began to kiss deeper. Lucia woke up to he fiancé’s warm embrace and tender lips massaging her own. She returned the kisses, only half awake soon lost track of how long they’d been laying there making out or when his hand had found its way up her legs. She didn’t object, but McGarrett didn’t take it far at all. He moved his kisses to her forehead and stared into her bleary eyes for a moment. “Why don’t you come home with me?” he whispered. “You can’t have slept well on this couch and I’m just dying carry my fiancée into my home.” Lucia nibbled his neck. “I take as a yes.” She sighed, and he picked himself up off the couch, then promptly swept her off and carried down to his car. He didn’t let her feet touch the ground once when they arrived, not when she tried to step out onto the pavement, not when they entered the building, not when he opened the door of his apartment, and certainly not when they reached the bed. ***** Back to Isabeau Saberhagen's Page Go to Fan Fiction Page
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