The white convertible rocketed down the highway, the four boys hooting with reckless abandon.

"Can't wait to see the look on those 'Iwi o'po 'Ele'e'e," Mu laughed. "We were in their auntie's house! We did 'em! Wela Ula has the power! We are the power."

Ikaika spun the wheel and the car swerved off the highway onto the side road headed back towards the beach. "Hey, Mu, we need to get the drinks." He screeched to a halt in front of a convenience store.

Mu jumped over the door. "Be right back. Keep the engine running."

Ikaika turned on the radio and it boomed out a loud beat while they waited.

Lonnie was elated. No one will ever hurt me in school now. We have showed those 'Iwi o'po 'Ele'e'e once and for all. No more trouble. Any memory of responsibility for Audrey, homework, or anything else was long gone. He was part of a group, he belonged to something special.

In just a few moments, Mu came dashing back to the car, again jumping over the door, a six pack of beer in one hand, Coke in the other. "Make tracks, Ikaika," he instructed, panting. He tossed the cold cans into the back seat with BJ and Lonnie.

"Everything okay?" Ikaika murmured to Mu as they hot-rodded back towards the beach.

"Old fool wouldn't give 'em to me," he remarked. "He called me a punk." He rubbed his hands together.

BJ lifted his hand from the six pack of soda. "Yuck, what's on this? It's sticky."

"Here," Ikaika threw a rag over the seat. "Probably grease."

Lonnie gave a more critical look a the cans. "BJ, that's not grease - it's blood."

Ikaika glanced at Mu. "What did you do, Bruddah?" he murmured hotly. "I just did the gig of my life back there. You not gonna blow it on me are you?"

Mu glared out of the windshiled flexing his jaw muscle, uncomfortable that they were in the company of two of the youngest members, one very new. This boy's allegiance is unknown. "I'll keep it under control, Iakaika. No big thing." He turned to the rear occupants. "Koko, the guy in the store was stupid; he'd cut himself before I got there. He was just bleeding a little. No big deal."

Lonnie did not reply. His ecstasy just moments before, was crumbling into a stomach wrenching fear. He glanced at BJ. "Did Mu steal this?"

BJ did not answer him.

The car turned off onto the crushed shell road the led past the cottage and turned towards the beach.

For an instant, Lonnie was gripped with fear wondering if his father had returned home, but sighed with relief when he saw the car was not in sight. I need to get home before Dad does. What time is it anyway?

Ikaika brought the vehicle to a theatrical halt, sending plumes of sand into the air was it slid onto the beach. The gang members who'd seen it arrive cheered and ran to greet their partners.

Ikaika noticed that Lonnie's spirits seemed to have sobered. The other boys grabbed canned drinks and ran off. Ikaika took Lonnie's elbow and directed him towards the small camp fire that was now dimming due to lack of attention in their absence. Ikaika bent down, picked up a small stick and stirred up the embers. Sparks sailed skyward and mixed with the stars. "Pretty, huh?" Ikaika said with a smile.

Lonnie nodded, a little surprised that this hulk of a gang member would stop to notice nature.

"Koko, you wondering about those drinks," Ikaika commented.

He scowled. "Did Mu hurt the guy in the store?" He sounded as if he was begging for it not to be so.

Mu, who had followed them over, crouched down. "Koko, this is life - real life. Good and bad. You live in your pretty little house with your haole papa and little cousin. And life is no problems, huh?"

Lonnie said nothing, wondering why he felt ashamed to have a good life.

"That man in the store, he was makin' trouble for me. I just wanted to get some drinks for my guys, you know? He saw me and he didn't see no brother, he saw a punk. He got scared. He wanted me outta his store. I couldn't come back to the bruddahs with no drinks. Make me look bad, you know?"

Lonnie stood listening trying to make sense of what Mu was telling him.

"I didn't have no chance, Koko. He say I was a punk kid, he called me a punk. I just tried to pay him and he pushed me. He pushed me like this." He shoved Lonnie in the chest and the smaller boy stumbled back a step. "That don't feel good, you know? I feeling mad now. I pushed back. Just once, but that old crazy man hit his head. Bang, just like that." He smacked his hand to the side of his head. "He felt down. I didn't steal nothing. I left the money on the counter and ran."

"Was he okay?" Lonnie mumbled through tight lips.

Mu nodded. "I think so. I didn't hang around for him to jump up and yell for cops."

Lonnie shook his head. "Well, the police would understand, Mu. You should not have run."

Ikaika made a wry expression. "What you been smokin', boy? Your haole dad tell you that one, too? We Hawaiian, Koko. Cops not gonna believe us over that white man. They'd put Mu back in jail just as sure as spit on him."

Mu glanced at Ikaika.

Lonnie bit the inside of his lip. Back in jail? Mu's been in jail before? He felt so filled with dread he could barely breathe.

"You see that, don't you, Koko?" Ikaika was asking, watching him closely.

"I guess so," he answered, but it was clear he did not.

Ikiaka frowned.This kid is gonna snitch. He'll go running right home to daddy and spill it all. I planned that house job for a month. I can't have some little kid messin' it up. I've just gotta keep him quiet till I figure out how to get the goods outta here. "Koko, you are a brother now. You are part of us - one of us. You in now and you remember that. What happens to one happens to all."

Lonnie did not miss the subtle change in the tone from providing an explanation for convincing to a warning of retribution.

Ikaika picked up an orange that lay amongst the food by the campfire. He slowly began to squeeze it in his large fist until the skin burst ,the pulp squished out between his fingers and the juice ran down his arms. "If you're thinking about singing for daddy - you remember this orange." He shoved it at Lonnie. "We are brothers, Koko, blood brothers to the death. There is no getting out for you now. We live or die together. You want to be safe? You want your haole teacher papa and your little kaukini haole safe? Then you remember this orange. Bad things happen to Mu, we gonna come for you."

It was late. Danny had wanted to get home early enough to spend some time with Lonnie and Audrey, but nothing had gone smoothly. Steve's angry words still echoed in his head.

"What did you think you were doing in there?"

Danny had hung his head. "Sorry, Steve. I just could not stand to see him so smug - so sure of himself."

"We can't afford the emotion, Danno. I'm going to pull you out."

"Steve, you can't!"

"I have to! I can hear the Governor now. I can't even give a good explanation for why you were there. Tell me - what's to stop Junior from bringing charges against you for threatening him?"

"He won't."

"He can - and he might. Please, Danno, this is the way it has to be."

"Kono and Gary will both be out tomorrow for Grandma Tutu's arrangements. Loui is babysitting Caputo. Who's going to go to Maui?" Danny asked.

"It won't be you."

"You'd send Richard?"

Steve had paused. "He's not so bad."

"I know what he's capable of, Steve. And he is not good at interviewing people like Gordon Mack."

Steve sighed and issued a small smile. "If I send you to Maui at least you won't be beating up Junior Caputo."

He left Steve and returned to the KOAH news studio, hoping to catch Carrie before the late news. What he caught was the footage the producer was inserting from the clients of Mickey Kwann's club who were complaining bitterly about police brutality and scare tactics.

"Good stuff, Danny," Carrie commented to him as she turned off the video.

"You aren't really gonna run that crap," he grumbled.

"I don't decide; my producer decides - but I think it's news, too."

"It is garbage - pure hype engineered by Caputo to make Five-0 look bad," he argued.

"Really?" She remarked. "Looks like you did a fair job of that yourself."

He stared at her, anger swelling within him. I don't need this. "I just stopped by to see how you were. Good night, Carrie." He turned on his heel and left.

"Danny!" She chased after him across the studio catching him near the blue screen backdrop that the weather man used. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean that."

He turned. "Yes, you did. And you know what? You were right."

"It's just - Danny I thought you weren't with Five-0 anymore. What were you doing there?"

He turned to face her. "Carrie, I can't begin to explain it. Look, things are all upset. Steve needs help from people he can trust right now and it doesn't look like there are very many of them."

She was standing close to him. "Sounds like he doesn't trust some other people around him. Why is that?"

He sighed. "Are you Carrie-the-Newswoman right now?"

It was her turn to stop. "Yeah, I guess I am," she whispered sheepishly. "I guess I'm sorry, too. Look, I want to thank you for - you know - everything today."

"I was glad to," he replied. They were even closer now, faces only inches apart.

"Can we get together again?" she whispered.

"I'd like to," he replied and leaned slightly forward to brush a kiss across her lips. He looked into her eyes, looking for response.

Her lips again met his with determination and they stood embraced for several moments.

There was a whistle. "Hey, guys! I've gotta set the lights for the late news and you're steaming up my lenses!" the stage manager called from the wings.

They jumped apart like high school kids, both blushing and grinning.

I've gotta go," Danny apologized.

"Later," Carrie replied and turned away towards makeup.

Thirty minutes later, Danny slowed the car for the turnoff from the highway and as he did, a white convertible shot out from road down to the cottage and turned onto the highway. Not many cars came up that road. The only things down there were the cottage and the beach. Danny smiled to himself. Some kid and his girl found my quiet beach tonight. Vi va le amour.

Danny made a tired trip up the short steps to the cottage and opened the door. It was nearly eleven, but Lonnie sat at the kitchen table before his art research paper. Danny handed him Steve's art history book.

"Thanks, Dad," Lonnie mumbled, not looking up.

Danny sensed something was wrong, but could not put a finger on what. "Everything all right, Lonnie?"

"Uh-huh," he responded putting down the pen. If I look at Dad he will read right through me. He'll know something is going on. What do I do? "How is Max?" He hoped changing the subject would work.

"Doing a little better. He can't talk or anything, but he'd been awake today." Danny got a Coke from the fridge. "Want a soda?"

"No thanks," he murmured, and closed his notebook. "I'd better get to bed." He escaped back to his room.

"Good night, Lonnie." Danny sat down on the couch to drink his soda. Lonnie sure is quiet. I guess all this must be having an impact on him, too. He knows Max pretty well. I need to take a few minutes with him and let him talk. Yesterday he was angry, I never really knew what that was about. And today he did not seem very happy about Carrie being here. What does he think? I guess I don't know what he thinks. I'll make a point to talk with him tomorrow.

Steve did not think he'd slept much. The couch in the Five-0 office was no softer than it had ever been, but still served it's purpose as a place to sleep lightly while his mind worked on the facts and intuition about what had happened. He had little doubt that Junior had had some role in Max's shooting, but Max's notebook never included anything about a late night meeting with anyone. Why not? Was Max afraid of anyone knowing? What were they to talk about? What did they talk about? Is Max hiding something or can he really not remember? Steve worried that somehow things might be twisted to implicate Max in something illegal. Would it matter now? He is no longer a threat. There is a police guard stationed in the hospital, but I don't think his attacker will be back. The job has beeen accomplished. Max will not head Five-0 again. What happens next?…..

….."They told me you'd be here, but I wasn't sure," came a painfully cheerful young female voice.

Steve rolled off the couch blinking awake. "Ling Fong?"

"Good morning, Steve," she said happily. Ling Fong had the same dedication to forensics as her father before her. She now stood at 6:30 in the morning with a small box in her hands. "I have some good news for you, Steve."

"Thank you, Ling, I could use some good news," he admitted and headed to start the coffee.

"It's about Mrs. Kalakauna's death."

Coffee forgotten, he focused solely on Ling. "Go ahead."

She pulled out a latex glove. "Officers found this near her home. On the outside are particles of wood that match the stick you brought us. On the inside are prints that match Bruno Luccio." She showed him a photo.

Steve glared at the mug shot of Bruno. "Not an Islander."

She shook her head. "I contacted the mainland for you, there should be something faxed to you pretty soon."

In less than an hour, Steve had confirmed that Bruno had connections to the Caputos.

"Want me to get an APB out?" Richard asked excitedly.

"Let's find him and keep him watched," Steve replied. "Bruno is the small fish. I want his boss. We can take Bruno down for Mama Tutu, but I want the whole thing here. Show his picture to the car rental people, let's see what that shows up."

Richard nodded.

The door opened and Danny entered. "Morning, Steve."

Richard looked a little surprised, but made no comment. He accepted the photo and left.

"I'm off to Maui," Danny told Steve.

Steve handed him the portfolio with information on Gordon Mack. "Happy hunting, Danno."

An HPD detective came to the door. "Excuse me, Mr. McGarrett."

"Yes?" Steve replied.

"I'm sorry. I mean, I know you have a lot on your mind, but - well, Mr. Conner had wanted us to report gang crime to him for followup." He offered a video tapes. "Last night out near Kapienoi Point. Kamaka convenience store."

"I know the place," Danny offered.

"Well, the place was robbed last night. The owner, a little old guy named Tooly Goomaka was running it. They beat him up; he died this morning."

Steve scowled as he accepted the video from the store's camera.

"Camera got the whole thing," the officer added. "Kid was wearing gang colors of the Wela Ulna."

"Pretty brash - or crazy right in front of a camera," Danny commented.

"Well, the kid probably didn't know the camera was there. Old Tooly just installed it a couple of weeks ago. He wanted it to keep away the crime - just it didn't help much."

"Well," Steve sighed. "At least it will catch his killer. What was the take?"

"Two six packs."

"What?" Steve replied in indignation. "He killed a man over two six packs?" He took the video to the tape machine. "What kind of a world are we running here?"

Danny came close to view the tape. "I wasn't aware we were in charge."

They watched the black and white film run, showing a young man enter the store, argue with the man working the counter, then start hitting the man. The old man fell. It seemed less real somehow on this tape, but no less tragic. As the young man turned to leave the store, he turned and full face view. Steve froze the spot. "There's our man. Get down to Department of Transportation, Danno. See if they can match him to a license."

"I thought I was going to Maui," he commented.

"Later."

He hesitated, wondering if he should remind Steve he had no legal authority to ask for anything from DOT or anyone else.

McGarrett glanced back at him. "Consider yourself deputized, now get going."

As Danny left, the FAA official entered the office. "You boys get started early," the man commented.

McGarrett gave a slight smile. "We try."

"My report on the chopper accident." He handed it to Steve.

"You could have mailed that."

"I could have, but I wanted to talk to you."

"Have a seat."

The man accepted the chair and a cup of coffee. "This chopper scene is a toughie, but with a death involved, we need to ascertain if we are looking at an accident or a murder. I can't find anything to clearly indicate foul play, let alone clues to the killer, but…" he hesitated with a slight shrug. "…it just feels wrong."

Steve waited for the officer to continue.

"I know this wasn't accident or pilot error. He could not have maneuvered that craft so well in order to get his passenger into the dumpster if it was pilot error. Accident - well maybe, but that fire was so hot - yet the fuel tanks intact. Incendiaries have a burn signature, so it wasn't a bomb. Whoever did this was clever and smart enough to know things like bomb chemicals could be traced."

"Then you are convinced it was murder?" Steve asked.

He nodded. "Someone wanted that craft down, but I don't have a motive or a cause."

Steve's gaze drifted to the devil stick. Just the same. No tangible evidence of foul play against Mama Tutu, just an ordinary stick. "Thank you for your help."

He sighed. "I'm afraid I haven't been much help. We'll keep looking at the wreckage, but I'm not sure what we will get."

Richard stuck his head inside the door, blinked upon seeing Steve had company. "Call from HPD. Grand theft case out in Wamiuah. You need to see this."

The FAA officer rose. "Sounds like you have your hands full. I'll be going." He and Steve shook hands.

Richard waited for the officer to leave. "Got a call about six o'clock. Mrs. Dorothy Witherton reported a break-in last night. They skipped the stereo, TV, even her wallet and went right for her kruggerands."

"Kruggerands?" Steve scowled.

"She has a stash of gold kruggerands in a small box on her dresser. Almost a quarter of a million dollaers worth."

Steve could not believe his ears. "She kept a quarter of a millions dollars on her dresser in a box?"

He shrugged. "Sounds crazy to me, too. Somebody knew she had them. Funny thing, they were able to deactivate her alarm system - from inside the house."

"A key?"

"She said the system has been faulty, a key would have tripped it. We found a large plastic pipe that had been installed for her guests at the pool to drop their wet towels directly to the basement. It's about fourteen inches across but a small kid could get through it. And one did. There are foot prints in the basement dust." He showed a photo of a bare foot print. "Kid slides down the tube, cancels the alarm, then steals the gold coins. Neat and tidy."

Steve folded his arms. "A child that small isn't going to go after Kruggerands. Someone else master-minded this and used a child to do the dirty work. Does Mrs. Witherton have a list of people who know she has those coins?"

"Working on that," Richard commented.

-------------------

Lonnie spent the whole day at school looking over his shoulder the whole time, not certain of whom he was afraid. The Skulls were not of concern any longer. He had hoped there would be talk about how the Wela Ula had stolen something from the 'Iwi o'po 'Ele'e'e , but there was nothing. He met BJ at lunch.

"You okay?" Lonnie asked BJ as he placed his lunch tray on the table.

BJ shrugged. "Sure, why shouldn't I be?"

"I thought maybe-" he stopped talking. "Did you hear anything about what we took from that 'Iwi o'po kid's house?"

"Sssh," BJ whispered urgently. "You want someone to hear?"

Lonnie was confused. "I thought Mu wanted the 'Iwi o'po to know…."

BJ made face. "Not now."

Lonnie leaned closer. "BJ, did you hear any more about that guy at the store?"

"What guy?"

"You know. The guy who got mean with Mu-"

"I don't know anything about that," BJ said sharply. "And neither do you. You remember Hank and that chain?" He poked Lonnie's still bruised ribs. "You make noise and you aren't gonna be bruised, you'll be broken into little pieces. Brothers know when to protect their own - and when to shut up. You better learn quick." He picked up an orange from his lunch tray and handed it to Lonnie with a determined look. "I think you need this more than me."

-----------------------------

Richard stared at the files on his desk, feeling very helpless. The whole office is somewhere else, all being distracted away by very real personal tragedies. Kono and Gary are preparing Tutu, mother and grandmother, for her burial. Williams and McGarrett are pacing the floor of Children's waiting the outcome of Audrey. Louie is with the surveillance team on Caputo. He gazed out into the larger office where Ginny sat at her desk completing paperwork. I'm the only one here. What if something goes down? What will I do? I know McGarrett doesn't like me. I guess right now that doesn't matter very much. I just don't want to screw things up. I've always felt like I did not belong on a team like Five-0. I know they don't think I belong here.

There was the sound of the outer door opening and Ginny looked up with a smile. "I can't believe it!" she announced cheerfully, "It is so good to see you."

"I thought it might be a good idea to stop by."

Richard was already on his feet and headed out of his cubicle having recognized the voice. "Duke Lukela?"

The former officer stood in casual aloha shirt, a grin on his face, supported by the cane in his left hand that had been a constant companion since his shooting eight years earlier. "Good afternoon, Richard. I heard about Tutu and Audrey. Thought you might want -- an extra hand."

Richard was already pulling out a chair. "Don't be so shy, Lukela. I can use all the help I can get."

"How's Danny doing?"

"McGarrett is with him."

"And where are you on the investigation?" Luke lowered himself into the chair.

Richard began to explain the missing casing, the car, the tire track as the phone rang and Ginny answered it. "Richard," she interrupted him. "It's about a rented caddy."

Minutes later, Duke accompanied Richard as the small Mercury sped out towards the airport. The manager of the Avis rental was waiting for them. "I recognized the man's face."

"Which man?" Richard asked.

He pointed to Bruno Luccio's photo. Brought the car back early yesterday morning. Was supposed to have kept it for a week. Said it was dirty. He wanted another car."

"Did you rent him another?"

He shook his head. "He wasn't satisfied with any of them."

"And the car?" Duke asked.

"Well, you all are in a little luck there. My cleaning team was short two people. It's out on the back lot just as he returned it." The manager pointed to the car.

Richard ran to the car and snatched up his radio. "Dispatch, I want Fong and her team out to Avis at the airport right away." He and Luke walked over to the vehicle, careful to touch nothing. "Frustrating to just stand here," Richard grumbled.

"Patience is a large part of it," Duke counseled him.

Minutes later, Ling Fong and her group were going through the car, lifting prints, checking for obvious things before arranging for it to be sent to the lab where it would be disassembled. She turned, her pretty asian face aglow. "Here's something for you boys." She held a 9mm casing in her tweezers.

Richard's face lit up. "Let's go get the little bastard."

"Easy does it," Luke reminded him. "You don't want Bruno Luccio, you want Junior Caputo."

"But Bruno shot Max!" Richard nearly shouted.

Luke shook his head. "Did he? He rented the car. The car was at the scene; that doesn't put him in the car. We need the gun. A witness would be even better."

"Witness?" Richard asked.

Duke gave a knowing smile as he turned towards their car. "Yes, a witness."

Richard shrugged. "Where do I find a witness at two o'clock in the morning?"

"Who is on the streets at that hour?" Duke finished getting into the car and pulled the door shut.

"Pimps and drug addicts," Richard muttered. "Not very reliable."

"Then we had better start questioning pimps and drug addicts," Duke replied.

-----------------------------------------

The sun had set and the moon risen by the time the surgeon slowly made his way up the hallway. He was still dressed in his scrubs, the paper mask dangling from his neck, the paper shoe covers causing him to shuffle his feet on the slick tile flooring. When he reached out to shake Danny's hand there was still powder from the sterile gloves on his hands. "Courageous little girl there, Mr. Williams."

"How is she?" Danny asked, cutting to the issue at hand.

"It was a serious injury, but we were able to stop the bleeding, do repairs. The bullet took a little nick out of her liver, pierced her stomach. Fortunately, it was not close to her heart. Now we wait."

"Wait for what?" Danny asked.

The doctor sighed. He hated it when families made him spell it all out. "She is in deep shock. Everything is doing what it should, but her reflexes are slow. It is probably just anesthesia, but I am keeping her in ICU until we have her alert. I am sure you understand."

Danny managed a nod. Do I understand? No, I don't understand any of this. He struggled to contain his emotions.

The doctor gestured him towards the hallway. "You can see her for a few minutes if you would like."

Danny allowed himself to be led towards the small cubicle, not even aware McGarrett was with him. He uttered a small gasp upon seeing the small girl, her golden curls spread out across the pillow, skin pale, nearly translucent, her eyes gently closed as if in sleep. She looks so peaceful , like a fairy tale princess. So innocent, so helpless, defenseless. How could this happen? How could I let this happen? He nearly lost his composure as rage and sorrow wrestled for his mind. Fighting back the fury in his mind and the tears in his eyes, he slipped a hand around her small one. There was no response.

Steve knew Danny was overwhelmed by the moment and could also feel the helplessness and empathize with the emotion. Steve had been here before and felt the fear, the pain, anger, and sorrow. He touched Danny's shoulder. "I'll see if Lonnie wants to come in." Steve walked back out to the waiting room where Lonnie sat straight-backed on the couch, staring out of the window at the moon.

Lonnie remembered the full moon of last night, the feelings of joy and comradeship; the euphoria of belonging and being wanted. Now it all seemed to shallow. What have I done? Somehow this is my fault. What if she dies? It wasn't supposed to be this way. They were nice to her. She wanted to make shell necklaces with Hannah. Why did this happen? Every time he closed his eyes he could still see the car window, the flash of metal, and something red flapping. Was it the Wela Ula? Why? They were supposed to be my friends. They were supposed to protect us. Maybe it was the Skulls pretending to be Scarves. Is that possible? What will I tell Dad? How can I ever live with this?

"Lonnie," Steve said gently, sitting down next to him. "How are you doing?"

Lonnie dragged his attention back to where he was and shrugged, still staring out of the window. "Why is this happening?" he asked.

Steve raised an eyebrow and put an arm around the boy's shoulders. "I don't have any answers for you."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"I think so. It will still take some time." Steve allowed silence to fill the gap for several minutes, waiting for Lonnie to say more. At last he added. "Would you like to visit Audrey?"

His eyes widened. "I can't go in there. You won't make me, will you?"

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Lonnie. She just looks like she's asleep."

That's what they said about BJ's Dad when he died last year! Maybe she is going to die! "I don't want to," Lonnie murmured, feeling ashamed as he said it.

"That's all right," Steve agreed. "Would you like to go home and get out of those clothes? Get some sleep?"

Lonnie fingered his blood-spattered shirt and shrugged.

"Come on, I'll get you a burger, too."

They rose and walked to the elevator. "I feel so awful," Lonnie muttered.

"It isn't your fault," Steve said firmly. "You were there. It was a very scary experience and we can talk about it when you want to. But you did not make this happen."

The elevator doors shut them away into the little car. "You ever feel this way?" Lonnie asked.

Steve nodded. "Yes, I have. And I couldn't stop the feelings either." First the first time in several years he was reliving the dreadful afternoon in the Royal Surf parking lot. He remembered the discussion after Danny's trip to New York. The pivotal event had taken on a newer, less painful meaning -- but it would always remain. "Did your Dad ever tell you about the day he got shot in the back so long ago."

Lonnie stared at the floor of the elevator. "His on-off scar. Yeah, he's told me."

"Did he ever tell you why it happened?"

Lonnie looked up to meet Steve's eyes shaking his head no. Will Uncle Steve have the reason why for Audrey's shooting?

"It was a bullet aimed at me. It took me a long time to stop feeling guilt about it, but it was not my fault. We were both in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like you and Audrey today. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time." God, I hope this is true! If Caputo is responsible for this, I will never forgive myself for not insisting Danny get police protection for the children.

The doors opened to the lobby. Lonnie's mind was turning over what Steve had said. What if the guy who shot Audrey meant to shoot me? Why? Do they think I'd snitch on Mu? I gave my word! They were trying to shoot me and missed. This really is my fault. "What did you do?" Lonnie asked.

Steve squeezed the boy's shoulder. "We got through. We will this time, too."

------------------------

End Part 6

Part 7

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