Stormy Weather

The weather in this story and its consequences are based on the true weather during my vacation in Oahu in March. :( The weather is real (though the days are switched around to suit the purposes of my story), only the victims, crooks and cops are fictional. This is set between Episodes 2.18 and 2.19. Rated T mostly for swearing. Me swearing in the rain in Hawaii!
This story is a WIP. But I think I have enough chapters in the can to serve as a cushion. Here's a long one to get started. And I'm trying something different, I replaced my avatar photo with one that relates to this story. This photo of Five-0 HQ only good until Chapter 2 posts. Photos were all taken by me. Hawaii Five-0 belongs to CBS. I'm glad they share.

Chapter 1 – Liquid Sunshine

Saturday

"Liquid sunshine, my ass," Danny Williams grumbled as he shook rain from his jacket. Careful to keep the drips away from all the high tech Five-0 equipment, he hung the lightweight hooded jacket on the coat rack. The others had mocked the Jerseyan for installing it at headquarters, though Kono Kalakaua later admitted it was handy for beach towels.

The moment he thought of her, the young woman came in, looking as if she'd just fallen off her surfboard. Her black hair was plastered sleekly to her head, just from the short trip from the parking lot to the building.

"Been out surfing this morning, Kono? You look a little damp," Danny drawled, his eyes twinkling.

With a matching twinkle in her eyes, Kono shook her head vigorously, shedding water like a dog. She sprayed the detective who threw his arm up in defense.

"Hey!" he protested.

Kono went to her office where she always kept a beach towel or two. Rubbing her hair dry, she answered Danny's earlier question as if he'd meant it seriously.

"No waves today, brah. This storm has chopped up the surf."

"And yet you went out without a coat or even an umbrella," Danny scolded.

"A little rain won't hurt you," Kono replied.

The rain, which was coming and going in waves, picked up at that moment. It thundered against the window as if demanding admission. Outside palm trees whipped back and forth in the gusting wind.

"A little rain?" Danny asked, with an ironic lifting of his eyebrows.

The two officers went to the window to watch as the wind died down again and the rain eased, but didn't stop.

"They're calling it a 30-year storm," Danny commented gloomily. "It's supposed to last the whole week. At least it's not my weekend to have Grace, considering the weather — and a new case!"

"Poor tourists," Kono said, seeing a bevy of plastic rain ponchos clustered in front of the King Kamehameha statue out front. "Imagine saving up for a trip to Hawaii and getting this. At least it's still warm."

Before Danny could reply, he saw a familiar dark pickup pull into the side lot followed by an equally familiar blue Traverse.

"Gang's all here," Kono commented.

Steve climbed out of his Silverado, wearing no coat, Danny noted with an internal sigh. Steve held a folded newspaper over his head as a rain shield. Danny felt a touch of nostalgia. The second time he'd met Steve had been in one of Hawaii's brief showers. Lieutenant Commander McGarrett had come to his door looking like that, just before he'd commandeered Danny into the best job he'd ever had.

Steve paused to wait as Chin Ho Kelly emerged from his station wagon, carrying a plastic grocery bag in one hand and unfolding an umbrella with the other.

"At least one of you Hawaiians has some sense," Danny said. "But he's wearing flip-flops!"

"Slippers," Kono corrected. "Why not? They're practical in the rain."

As Chin approached Steve, the heavens opened up again. Steve's newspaper folded, converting from a shield to a funnel that poured water down the commander's neck.

Danny and Kono burst out laughing, tried to smother it, then surrendered to merriment. Steve leaped like a drenched cat and flung the paper away (slotting it neatly into a trash can). Chin offered the shelter of his umbrella, but a gust of wind blew it inside out. The two men gave up and ran for the door while two stories above, their friends laughed until their sides ached.

Danny and Kono were waiting, beach towels outstretched, when Steve and Chin entered the Five-0 office.

"You're taking that 'seal' thing too literally, babe," Danny told the Navy SEAL.

Steve ignored the comment but took the towel, scrubbing his hair and the back of his neck furiously. His wet hair stood up in messy spikes. Danny noted with a pang that this "style" emphasized the gray in his friend's hair, gray you shouldn't see in a man in his mid-30s, but Steve had suffered so much pain in his life.

Steve noticed the odd look in his friend's eyes. "What?" he asked warily, prepared for more sarcasm.

"Nothing," Danny said. "Don't you know enough to come in out of the rain?" he added, not wanting to remind Steve of past pain.

"I was ready for the rain, but not the wind," Chin laughed, folding down his abused umbrella. Fortunately, modern umbrellas aren't ruined when they're blown inside out.

He wiped off his feet and his slippers, then pulled dry shoes out of his plastic bag.

"I'm relieved. Flip-flops aren't very good for chasing suspects," Danny said.

"No, but they're practical when it's wet."

Danny shook his head and his three friends realized he was relatively dry. The three kama'aina were ruffled and damp while the haole's hair was smooth and styled as usual.

"How come you're dry?" Steve demanded.

Danny's expression twisted in exasperation. He pointed at his dripping jacket. "Rain Coat," he said, emphasizing each syllable with fully rounded, drawn out vowels. "It keeps the rain off!"

Steve shook his head at the detective's forcefulness, then shivered in the air conditioning. He went to his office to change into a dry shirt. When he came back, Kono was examining Danny's rain jacket, admiring the way the water beaded up and rolled off.

"If the fabric is this waterproof, I bet it doesn't breathe much," she observed. "It must be hot."

Unlike every other place Danny had lived — OK, all in New Jersey — Honolulu didn't cool off when it rained. It remained warm and grew doubly humid.

"It's like wearing a jacket in a sauna," Danny admitted. "But I'd rather sweat than be wet." He nodded at the window where plastic coated figures paraded up and down King Street. "Those rain ponchos look airy, maybe I should get one of them."

"Then you'd look like a tourist," Steve teased. "OK, people, we have a new case," the commander announced unnecessarily. They all knew that, which is why they were in the office on a Saturday; they just didn't know any details. Come down to it, Steve didn't know many details either. Fortunately, Chin had been going over the computer files that the governor's office had forwarded to them.

As he began to call up information on the computer screens, Danny picked up a folder with paper printouts of some of the information. Governor Denning believed in a belts and suspenders approach. He sent the information in digital and paper forms, which Danny appreciated. The old-school detective still preferred hard copies when he could get them. And he could skim through a sheaf of financial documents faster than Chin could flash them on the screen. (Well, Chin could flash them faster, but they'd just be an incomprehensible blur.)

"No blood spattered corpse?" Danny said, thoughtfully chewing on a pen as he thumbed through the printouts. "No ransom demands for kidnapped children? I like this case already."

"What we have," Chin said. "Is a ring of pickpockets preying on tourists on Oahu."

Steve and Kono made identical faces of disappointment.

"That doesn't sound very important," Kono said doubtfully.

"How about a million dollars in one month," Danny said. "Does that sound important?"

"A million…?" Steve said incredulously. "From pickpockets?"

"Picking pockets leads to identity theft these days," Chin pointed out. "And identity theft leads to tourists finding safer places to visit, which disrupts the state's economy and puts tens of thousands of people out of work. Now we're talking about a billion-dollar impact."

"And a very unhappy governor," Steve guessed.

"'Very' would be a very significant understatement, judging by this memo," Danny said, pulling a paper out of his file and handing it to Steve.

The commander winced when he read the governor's sulfurously worded command to fix this. NOW.

"So, what are we talking about," Steve asked Danny and Chin.

"In just about a month, 108 tourists have been taken for around $10,000 apiece. Some more, some less," Danny said, tapping his folder with his pen.

"Ten thousand apiece?" Kono exclaimed, thinking how long it would take her to pay off that debt.

"Ten thousand," Danny confirmed. "Actually, that's been pretty considerate of our thieves. In some cases, victims of identity theft lose everything, become suspected of criminal activities, and spend years trying to straighten out their credit histories. These thieves make a quick score, grab some cash, some merchandise, then move on to the next victim. Some of our victims didn't realize they were ripped off last month until they got their bank statements this month."

"How'd that work?" Steve asked. "Didn't they realize their credit cards were missing?"

"That's the beauty of it," Chin said with reluctant admiration. "The dips didn't take the credit cards; they just borrowed them long enough to scan them."

"The who?" Steve asked.

"The dips, dippers, people who dip into your pockets," Danny explained. "I prefer 'dip.' I like the double meaning of 'pickpocket' and 'idiot'."

Chin continued his explanation, calling up security video. "Here …"

"Is that Pearl Harbor?" the Navy man said in outrage.

"The visitor's center for the Arizona Memorial," Chin confirmed. "Watch the man in the orange jacket.

Steve scowled as they watched the man ushering three small children in a crowd streaming toward the theater for the introductory movie.

"Here." Chin froze the video and they saw a hand slipping a wallet from the tourist's back pocket.

"Who is that?" Steve demanded. Several people were in the crush behind the victim. It was difficult to tell who the hand belonged to.

"This guy with the black baseball cap." Chin pointed out the suspect and the team watched as the man slipped the wallet to a woman in a pink sunhat who put it in her large, gaping purse. From the overhead angle of the surveillance camera, they saw her deftly slip cards out of the wallet and run them through a scanner, all by touch alone while she seemed to study a plaque on the wall. A moment later, she passed the wallet to a third man who jogged after the victim and gave the wallet back. There was no sound, but the suspect's gestures seemed to indicate he'd seen the victim drop it. The victim checked the wallet, found nothing missing and thanked the suspect who waved off the thanks and jogged away as if he needed to catch up to his family.

"Simple. And the victim, August Pettersen, didn't find out he'd been ripped off until two weeks later," Chin said.

"We can't tell much with these overhead views," Steve said with dissatisfaction. "Aren't there any shots that show their faces?"

"Not in this incident," Chin answered. "They're very careful. They know where all the cameras are."

"Then we need to check surveillance from the other cases," Steve decided.

"A hundred and eight cases?" Danny asked in dismay.

"If necessary," Steve said with determination.

Kono was catching up, reading over her cousin's shoulder. "Fortunately, most of the cases are in clusters. There are four more from this day at Pearl."

"That's still a lot of video to go through," Danny complained. "I think I'll try following the money. Wanna help?" he asked Kono.

He and Kono went to Danny's office. They discussed the money trail, then set to work by phone and computer, trying to find the end of the profit rainbow. Who wound up with the money taken from the victims? Steve and Chin set to work watching security videos. After awhile, Chin went to the lunchroom and came back with two bowls of microwaved popcorn, one for him and Steve, because movies need popcorn. And one for Danny and Kono, because his cousin would kill him for making the air smell like popcorn without sharing.

When lunchtime came, rain was pounding down again and the palm trees outside were flailing against the sky. The Five-0 team waited hoping the squall would pass, but finally hunger won out, so the other three volunteered Danny to make a food run.

"Why me?" he protested.

"Because you were the only one smart enough to bring a raincoat," Kono said, biting her lip in a tiny pout and making her eyes big like Danny's daughter when she begged.

Even when he knew he was being played, Danny couldn't resist "the look."

"OK," he agreed.

Kono clapped her hands in triumph. "Good. Now, I'm in the mood for sushi."

Danny was already shaking his head. "No, the one who drives gets to choose," he said firmly. "So unless you want to come along and make the dash from the car to the restaurant..." At that moment, rain hit the window like a wave, washing down the glass in a sheet.

"No, thanks," Kono said hastily.

"Then cold, rainy days put me in the mood for something hot and Italian," Danny finished.

"But, it's not cold, brah," Chin said in amusement.

Danny looked out at the dark gray skies. "But it looks cold out there," the detective said. "And it feels cold in here."

That was true. The air conditioning ran constantly to dehumidify the air for the benefit of the computers, though the Jersey detective liked it just fine.

"OK, but please something halfway healthy," Steve begged while Kono nodded agreement.

Danny waved a negligent hand as he left. He returned damp but triumphant with two bags that smelled of tomato sauce, rosemary, oregano and basil. Steve's mouth began to water despite himself.

"I got sausage subs," Danny announced. He waved a finger to forestall protests from Steve and Kono. "Turkey sausage, tomato sauce, onions and bell peppers. And no cheese for Commander Fat Avoidance."

He brought out long rolls filled with sausage smothered with red sauce and slices of provolone melting on top of three of the sandwiches — plus a big plastic container of antipasto salad with the dressing on the side.

Kono ran for paper plates from the break room and they portioned out their late lunch.

Chin bit down on the sub and rolled his eyes in pleasure. "I didn't think you'd go for turkey sausage," he commented.

"If Armando put this sauce on your flip-flop, excuse me, slipper, I'd eat it," Danny answered with his mouth full.

After lunch, they traded chores, to get "fresh eyes" on the problem, Steve said.

"Because your eyes are tired from watching videos," Danny deduced.

"Roger that," Chin agreed.

"What makes you think reading financial documents is restful?" Kono asked wryly. She was quite happy to swap.

They regrouped in the late afternoon when Danny and Kono finished fast-forwarding through the security footage. At no time did the suspects allow the cameras more than a glimpse of a chin. Kono even played around looking for reflections on the windows of the Hard Rock Cafe, but everything was too distorted.

There were still more financial records to go through, but it looked hopeless, Chin said. All the money trails led to unfriendly, secretive foreign banks where they ended at blank walls.

"This is highly organized," Steve pointed out. "It may start with pickpockets, but it goes way beyond that."

"We know a few things," Chin said. "The thefts are all virtual. Even when it looks like merchandise has been purchased, it's strictly 'on paper' or maybe I should say 'on pixel.' All the goods and funds are being routed by computer."

"Also, the gang targets American and Canadian tourists," Chin continued. "Looking at the videos, we've seen a couple of times they've hit targets that we don't have on our list. They've proven to be locals or foreign tourists. I take that to mean the thieves don't want to deal with foreign banks but they want a victim who will be far away when he discovers he's been robbed."

"That makes sense. That explains why they've never targeted Asian tourists," Steve said. "The odds are Asian tourists are either locals or actually from Japan or Korea."

"What do we do now?" Kono asked.

The four investigators pondered their options. Steve paced the floor. Chin sat back in a chair and considered the ceiling. Kono wandered to the coat rack to check the dryness of her beach towels.

Danny strolled over to the window, attracted by a gleam of sunlight. Clouds were still scudding across the sky, bringing brief gusts of rain spattering down. Off to the east, a dark bank of clouds promised more rain to come; but for now the tourists clustered around the king could push back the hoods of their ponchos.

"So what do we do now, stake out likely tourist spots and wait for the pickpockets to show up?" Kono asked.

"It might work. They haven't repeated any place yet," Chin said. "That narrows down our choices."

"So where haven't they been? They've picked pockets all over Waikiki, up north at the Dole Plantation and PCC and on the windward side at Kualoa Ranch. They're about due to hit Honolulu again. Maybe the zoo?" Steve speculated.

"Maybe right out front by Kamehameha's statue," Danny said.

Steve looked up to counter Danny's mockery, but his partner was looking out the window, every sinew tensed like a dog on the hunt.

"No!" Kono protested in disbelief. "Here? That's just cocky!"

"Get your camera," Danny ordered Kono, as the men rushed the window. "Watch, the woman in the rain scarf," Danny instructed.

The woman with her head covered in blue plastic had her hand in her reusable shopping bag. A moment later, it came out and, moving behind her back, handed off a pink wallet to a man in a navy blue plastic rain poncho. He followed a woman who was headed toward the nearby trolley stop and handed her back her wallet.

Kono snapped pictures as fast as she could, zooming in as tightly as possible on the two suspects.

"Who's the pickpocket?" Steve asked.

"Guy in a black windbreaker, taking pictures of the king. See him? There he goes again!"

A gust of wind blew up and the pickpocket seemed to stagger into a "fellow" tourist. Laughing, he apologized and patted the man's shoulder with one hand while his other hand pocketed a billfold.

"See, he only 'stumbles' into people who don't have those ponchos on," Danny said.

"Hard to pick a pocket through plastic," Chin said.

"From this angle, these photos aren't going to be much better than the security videos," Kono warned, though she kept snapping pictures.

"We need to get closer," Steve said.

"Without making them suspicious," Chin said firmly. "We don't want to catch these small fry. We want them to lead us to their kahuna."

Danny looked down, feeling sorry for the victimized tourists in their plastic rain ponchos.

Ponchos.

The detective spun for the door. "I have an idea!" His eye fell on the coat rack. "In fact, I have two!"

"What?" Steve demanded.

"No time!" Danny answered as he headed for the door. "We don't know how long the Dipping Crew will stay here. Chin, if they leave, see if you can follow one of them."

"Right!"

"Kono, try to catch up to one of the victims, so we can get their credit info," Steve ordered as he followed his partner.

"Got it, boss."

All of them headed for the exit, following Danny who snagged the driest beach towel as he passed.

"Why do you need the towel?" Steve asked, hoping for at least one answer.

"Because I am a brilliant detective," Danny replied, which wasn't the kind of answer Steve was looking for.

Downstairs, Kono and Chin headed for their usual parking lot exit facing Punchbowl, but Danny veered toward the King Street door, the tourist door, and entered the small museum there.

The Judiciary History Center was almost empty. A small group of prelaw students listened to an explanation of martial law in Hawaii during World War II. A solitary, windblown tourist in a blue rain poncho stood grumbling to herself in a corner as she wiped a spattering of rain off her glasses.

Possibly attracted by the grumbling, Danny homed in on her, bringing out his badge and identifying himself as he approached. "Excuse me, miss. Detective Williams, Five-0. I need your help."

Danny expected to have to explain "Five-0," which was relatively unknown outside Hawaii, but the woman's gaze sharpened instantly. "Five-0?" she said. She looked Danny in the face and amazement crossed her features. "Williams? You're the man who stopped that bomb at Disneyland last year!"

Even in her surprise, she spoke quietly out of deference for the museum setting.

"How …?"

"I live near there. It was in all the papers," the Californian said. "I'd never heard of Five-0 before that, so I remembered. What can I do for the man who saved my favorite place on earth?" she added curiously.

Danny swallowed his surprise at this continuing moment of fame. "I need to borrow your poncho," he said.

Sure, she was four inches shorter than he was, but one size fits all, right?

"Borrow the poncho?" Steve asked, before the woman could.

"You said it would make me look like a tourist," Danny answered.

The woman wrestled her way out of the enveloping plastic. Danny shoved the towel into Steve's hands and pulled the plastic over his head. "Now, wipe me down," he ordered. "Shoulders, arms, chest."

Confused, Steve swiped the towel across Danny's plastic-covered chest.

"No, wipe it," Danny said impatiently.

Steve scrubbed at the smooth plastic, then the light dawned and he began to work more enthusiastically.

"You are a brilliant detective!" he said.

"And you doubted me," Danny retorted smugly.

To Be Continued