EPISODE 8 "Mana'o" (Belief)

Part 2

"Cage, I mean, you are a prince," Danny shook his head, moving to stand directly across from the young black haired IA officer, though out of range of his golf swing.

"A cop gets murdered and burned in a pit, and you are," he said, looking around at the driving range scornfully, "out here practicing your swing."

"How I choose to spend my lunch hour is my business," Cage said, barely glancing up at the blond cop, adjusting his stand as he set up another swing. "Some people relieve stress by lifting weights, others run. I hit tiny little white balls a very long way." He swung.

Mitch realized her thoughts were focused on the wrong thing, but for a minute all she could focus on what what Cage's chosen hobby was golf. Golf. There could not be that many places to golf on the island, she thought. It had to get boring. Plus the grass here was dead and dying, obviously not well kept, and golf was an expensive hobby, a hobby politicians and businessmen engaged in. On principal, she disliked most businessmen and politicians. She decided she had a rather strong dislike for Cage too, seeing the casual set of his shoulders as he so easily ignored Danny's concern and that of Meka's family.

"Why is Internal Affairs running a homicide investigation?" Steve asked as she ran through her internal debate.

"More importantly," Danny interrupted accompanying hand motions, "where do you get the stones big enough to mess with a fallen officer's memorial service? Can you tell me that?"

"Look, Detective Williams," Cage addressed him, finally looking up. "I understand where you're coming from. You knew the victim. Rest assured we're investigating Detective Hanamoa's murder to the best of our ability."

That was a line, a 'one size fits all' speech he could spew at friends, family, anyone with concerns. It wasn't an answer. It wasn't worth the time it took to say. The frown on her face deepened as she stared at him.

"Good. So you got witnesses, suspects, leads?" Danny prodded him.

"I'm not at liberty to say," he spouted another line. He jaw clenched, eyes narrowing at him.

"Look," Steve interrupted them, "the governor has given us full authority and jurisdiction. So whatever you do have-"

"I know all about your Five-0 task force," Cage said snidely. Mitch wondered if she'd get the chance to punch him today. She very much wanted to. "And that you forced yourself onto this case," he continued, eyes flickering briefly to her closed fist. "But this is an Internal Affairs matter involving an officer suspected of corruption," he said stiffly. "We'll handle this."

"What did you say?" Danny said suddenly, harping on Cage's words. "What? Corruption? What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Danny. Danny," Steve talked him down. "You got evidence to back that up?" he asked Cage.

"Off the record?" Cage looked at Steve.

Mitch scoffed in the background, shaking her head as Danny fumed. "Yeah, sure, off the record," Steve agreed.

"Last few months," Cage said, "an alarming number of Detective Hanamoa's cases seem to fall apart at the 11th hour. I'm talking raids getting blown, leads drying up, busts coming up empty," he listed off.

"Okay, stop," Danny cut him off, staring clearly at the other man. "Stop. I knew this guy. All right?" he said. "He was a good cop. He was a clean cop."

Cage paused, but didn't falter, putting his club into his bag and lifting it over his shoulder as he turned away from them. "Believe what you want," he said uncaringly. "I said too much already."

"We wanna see the case files," Mitch spoke up.

"They're sealed by court order," he looked briefly at her.

"Okay," Danny said as they followed him out. "Then give us a name, all right? A number. I'll settle for a haiku," he continued. "Just point us in a direction."

"Good day," Cage said formally.

"Okay," Danny stepped in front of him, getting in his face in a very city-boy like fashion. "You know what? This is why everybody hates Internal Affairs," he said point-blank, "because you are useless. It's not even worth it," he shook his head. "I'm gonna go talk to some real cops," Danny walked away.

"Detective Williams, I'm warning you," Cage turned to call after him. "Let us handle this."

"Hey, back the fuck off Danny, asshat, okay?" Mitch snapped, not liking the way his last sentence sounded, the vague threat in his voice.

"Meka was his friend." She felt Steve at her back and knew she wasn't the only one who didn't like the way this guy was walking to their partner.

Cage's round, full cheeked face attempted to glare at her, but he didn't have the knack for it. It didn't look as right or threatening as it did on Mitch's sharp featured face with her dark eyes. "Then he should recuse himself," Cage said strongly despite the weak glare. "When you know the victim, it clouds your judgment." He looked away from her, taking a step back and looking at Steve instead.

She scoffed, apparently Cage thought he was the rational one.

"Spare your friend some pain. The more he learns, the worse he's gonna feel. Trust me."

Mitch was not fond of the yellow and green color scheme that covered the walls and railings of H.P.D. Each trip inside their walls solidified the feeling that she was walking inside a pineapple. She didn't relish the feeling of relating to Spongebob. "I really hate the walls in this place," she muttered, causing Steve to shake his head.

"What is it with you and the color yellow?"

"This, this is not yellow." She pointed to the wall as they followed Danny through the station, weaving through desks, chairs, filing cabinets, H.P.D officers, and other workers as they went. "This is a bright obnoxious and horrible pineapple yellow. Whoever painted these walls deserves to be shot," she said as they came to a stop. "Is this Meka's desk?" she pointed to the strangely cleared off and immaculately clean dark wood desk that Danny stood behind.

"Yeah," Danny nodded. "Hey, Ahuna," he called to a man retrieving a manila file from a shelf of filing cabinets. "What happened to all of Meka's stuff?"

"IA cleared it out yesterday," he answered.

"Cage is a vulture," Danny spat, pointing vaguely at Ahuna. "You know what Meka was working on?" he asked.

"No clue," Ahuna shrugged, making a quick exit. "Sorry, gotta go."

"'Sorry, gotta go'," Danny quoted, looking at a passerby— a large man in a bright blue button down. "Know what Meka was working on?" Danny asked.

"No," he said. Mitch's eyes narrowed on him, but he just turned away.

"You?" Danny pointed. "You know what Meka was working on?"

He didn't respond.

"Nobody?"

Mitch moved to stand behind him. No use in him looking crazy all by himself, she thought.

"What was Meka working on, huh?" he asked loudly, face twisted in anger as he spoke. "Twelve years the guy wears a badge, and you're all looking at me like you don't know who he is?" he shook his head as the department went quiet.

She and Steve exchanged glances, both surveying the room of unusually quiet cops.

"I need someone to help me out here." Danny laid eyes on a dark haired asian man in a smart looking grey suit sitting at a metal desk in the center of the room and approached him without hesitation. "Kaleo, right?" he said, leaning over the other man's desk.

"Yeah," he leaned back in his chair.

"You work with Meka before?"

"I'm in the middle of something," he deflected, writing with a blue pen on a post-it note.

"I know, you're in the middle of not answering my question," Danny said lowly.

"You got issues, haole," he stared up at Danny, "take it up with IA, because we got a gag order here, and around here," he emphasized, looking around briefly, "We follow orders," he said. "Understand?" Kaleo slid the pad of post it notes towards Danny and tapped it once. Ohana Shrimp Truck, it read; 1 hr, underlined.

"Yeah," Danny nodded, "Yeah, I understand."

"Chin, What do you got?" Steve answered the call as Danny drove and Mitch rode in the backseat.

"Meka's cell records," he said. "I just found something odd. On the night before he died, he booked a flight out."

"What?" Mitch shot up as Steve and Danny exchanged a sharp look. "Where to?"

"Singapore," Chin said. "He was flying there next week."

"All right," Danny said, "talk to Amy, see if maybe they were going on a family vacation."

"I already did," Chin interrupted. "He only bought one ticket. Amy had no idea."

"Well, see if you can recover his emails," Danny said, "See who he was gonna see there, where he was staying. Anything. Please."

"Got it," Chin said and the call ended.

Steve looked back at Mitch, heavy looks on both their faces as they shared a thought. He raised his hand pressing his lips together, covering his mouth slightly. She shook her head minutely. They knew Danny wouldn't like it. Hell, Mitch didn't like it, but that made it no less logical.

"What? What are you thinking?" Danny asked, looking at her in the rearview and then at Steve. "Huh?"

"I'm-" Mitch broke off, shaking her head.

Steve sighed, "Guy books a flight out of the country the night before he's murdered," he recapped. "It just makes me wonder," he said.

"Makes you wonder what?" Danny snapped.

"That he knew it was coming," Mitch finished softly.

"Okay," Danny said loudly looking away from them and raising a hand. "Can you two please just do me a favor?" he said. "Don't go there."

"Come one, Danny," Steve said, "Just level with me. You didn't think of that for a second?"

"No, I didn't, all right?" Danny said above him. "You want to think? Think about Kaleo," he said, "getting answers from him. These questions give me a migraine."

"Take it easy," Mitch interrupted, "All right?"

"Okay, okay. I'm easy."