​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​~CHAPTER ONE~

Hutch absently rubbed the three vertical slightly raised scars on his left wrist with the thumb of is right hand. They ran nearly three inches from the top of his wrist up the inside of his arm. There was a second set on his right wrist also. The report he was working on sat half done in the typewriter, Hutch stared out into space as he rubbed the scars. He had been back to work a month after an eighteen month absence. Hutch had come to terms with the two men he had murdered, or he hoped he had. Since his return to work the dreams were starting to come back, though not in as great detail as they had been eighteen months ago, but they were back.
Starsky glanced up from his own paper work to see his partner sitting almost frozen in his chair. “Hutch?” Starsky’s brow furrowed as he noticed Hutch rubbing his wrist. “Hey, Buddy, everything okay?”
Hutch’s eyes slowly focused across the two desks on Starsky’s worried face. “What?”
“I asked if you were alright, you are just kind of staring out into space.”
“Just thinking,” Hutch replied but he wasn’t sure that was what he was really doing. It had been more like remembering.

The first month was the hardest of Hutch’s life; all he wanted to do was die. But Doctor Sam Smith had locked up anything that could have been used as a weapon. All the doors were padlocked, the windows sealed shut so that Hutch couldn’t escape and harm himself.
Hutch could remember being stunned when Starsky had come into his hospital room after his attempted suicide and informed him that Doc Sam was taking him away…an intervention if you will. He had been too weak and distraught by the fact he had failed in his attempt to end his life to protest. He had gone quietly with the doctor one week after he had been brought into the emergency room almost devoid of blood. Hutch didn’t remember the trip to the beach house, forty miles from his home, nor did he remember how he got into the house; only that when he got there, he was a prisoner.
Hutch’s first meal in his prison consisted of what ever Sam served him that could be eaten with a spoon, no knives or forks could be found. He had sat listlessly pushing his food around the plate with his spoon. To Sam’s credit, he sat across the table from Hutch with the same food and only a spoon to eat with.
The first night Hutch lay in bed in an almost stripped room. Besides the bed, the only other piece of furniture in the room was a wooden chair. There were no curtains or blinds, only shades that could be raised by giving them a quick jerk. There was no door to the bedroom or the bathroom for that matter. He could remember thinking he wasn’t much better off than if he had been sent to prison.
But as time progressed and Hutch got better, things like the doors were put back on their hinges; he was allowed the simple luxury of a fork, although the knives came back much later. It wasn’t until the beginning of the third month, when the dreams finally stopped, did he began to miss his partner. Before, his whole being was concentrating on ridding himself of his demons.
Hutch wished that it had been as easy to deprogram as it had been for him to be brainwashed. Curtis Mayfair had done an amazing job of sneaking into Hutch’s apartment. For months he drugged and then brainwashed the detective to kill, first the child pornographer Jackie Delocasa and then Jackie’s lawyer, Sal Brooks.
He could almost smell the ocean air again as he remembered Starsky’s visit, the first time they had seen each other in three months. Hutch knew that Sam frequently called his partner to update him on his condition. He could tell every time Starsky asked when he could see him by Sam’s “not yet” answer into the phone. At first Hutch was relived that he didn’t have to face his partner, but as he healed and learned to trust himself again he became eager to see Starsky.
Hutch could see the hesitation in Starsky as he stood at the end of the veranda that day. They were awkward with each other, not knowing quite what to say. But, he had something to tell his friend and he knew Starsky probably wasn’t going to like nor understand. Sure, he would pretend to understand and put on a brave face, but Hutch knew he would crush Starsky when he told him he wasn’t coming back to the department. Hutch didn’t think he could be cop any longer. How could he put cuffs on somebody and haul them to jail when he was no better than they were? Sure he knew that it wasn’t his fault, he had been brainwashed, but still in the back of his head the doubt remained and probably always would. He was forever changed by the events that had happened in his life.
He saw Starsky’s face fall when he had told him he was staying at the beach house and then almost immediately put on a brave face, smiling and nodding in an understanding way. But Hutch knew Starsky all to well, when the two men parted after promising to keep in touch and hang out when Hutch moved back to Los Angeles that things would never between the two of them.
Hutch stayed at the beach two more months, until the owner returned then he packed up going back to his apartment. Starsky had met him there and Hutch was sure it had been Starsky that had cleaned up his blood stained bathroom, replaced the towels, and bath mat. What a nightmare that had to have been. He wanted to express his gratitude but bringing up the whole incident would have put a damper on his homecoming.
Starsky had been overjoyed at the prospect of Hutch finally returning; he filled his cabinets and refrigerator with all the things he knew his friend loved. And Hutch had been right in assuming that it had been Starsky that had scrubbed the blood stained grout, threw out blood soaked towels, crying rivers of tears as he cleaned, wondering what more he could have done to have stopped this horrible thing from happening.

“Hutch?” Starsky, alarmed; got up from his desk. When he was standing behind his partner Starsky put his hands on Hutch shoulders. “Come on; let’s get out of here, uh? It’s almost lunch time.”
Hutch looked up at his partner in a sort of daze but nodded and rose from his chair. Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair he followed Starsky out of the squad room. As they were waiting for the elevator Starsky asked again. “Hutch, are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah,” Hutch answered, afraid to tell him what he was thinking about. Starsky would probably haul him to Doc Sam’s that instant, but Hutch did make a mental note to call Sam that evening. Sam had told the detective to call anytime he needed to talk. He would love to talk to Starsky about it but he had already put him through enough. “I guess I’m just kind of out of it today.” Hutch tried to put a smile on his face.
“I know it has to be drag to have to sit at the station doing paper work.” Starsky commented as they enter the elevator.
“It’s okay,” Hutch answered. He had been told he would have to ride the desk for a while when he came back but the Commissioner was nice enough to allow Hutch to do it in the squad room instead of at the front desk. Hutch was actually relieved that he didn’t have to go back out on the streets for a while. Hutch took statements and wrote out reports, while Starsky hit the streets alone. Hutch felt bad, but Starsky had been doing it alone since he had left, refusing to take a new partner. “It’s not that bad.”
“I’ll go to the shooting range with you tonight if you want?” Starsky offered, knowing that Hutch had to brush up on his skills and pass a test before he would be allowed to be on the streets or even carry his gun.
Hutch shrugged, “Not tonight, buddy. I’m kind of tired.”
The worry was back on Starsky’s face again. “Ok, why don’t I come over and we can watch some TV.”
Hutch gave Starsky an honest smile. “I’m not going to off myself okay?”
Starsky rolled his eyes, “I know that.”
“You don’t lie well, buddy. I know you are worrying and you don’t have to, really,” Hutch assured him. “I have learned to ask for help and if I need help, you will be the first to know, I promise.” Hutch’s first lie since he had been home, the second lie that Starsky didn’t catch. The first one had been the night that Hutch had rid himself of his partner so that he could attempt suicide. They rode silently down to the ground floor, both lost in their own thoughts.

For the first few weeks Hutch laid around his apartment with Starsky dropping in at all times of the day and night bearing gifts, mostly food. But Hutch knew that his friend was merely checking up on him. Once, he had been showering when Starsky had knocked on the door and by the time he had turned off the steaming water, Starsky was pounding on the front door ready to knock it down for a second time. When Hutch opened the door, wearing nothing but a bath towel, he found Starsky standing in the hall, pale and shaken, thinking that Hutch had tried to end his life again. He tried to assure him that he had no feelings of harming himself, but it took Starsky a good hour for his hands to finally stop shaking.
Hutch felt bad, what had he done to his best friend? Starsky had suggested that Hutch move in with him but when he nixed that idea, Starsky proposed that he get a new apartment, away from the bad memories. Hutch wasn’t sure whose bad memories, his or Starsky’s. After all, he wasn’t the one that found a lifeless body in a bloody tub of water that had gone cold, nor did he have to clean up the mess. Hutch told his friend that he needed to stay where he was at least for the time being; the news didn’t seem to set too well but it was what Hutch needed to do.
Bored and with his savings running out, Hutch decided to look for a job. Which was a perplexing problem since he had always been a cop, expect for when he was a teen and worked the odd jobs that most teenage boys do. He felt he was a little to old to work in a burger joint or be a bag boy; he did play with the idea of trying to get a job at the department as a civilian, but he felt that would be a little too weird. So he opted for a job at a small neighbor book store, which lasted until he woke up in the middle of the night one night and decided he wanted back at the department. He wasn’t sure why, and at first just pushed the thought away, thinking it was only because he couldn’t find anything else he really wanted to do. But the thought kept creeping up on him until he finally called Dobey to see what he would have to do to become a detective again.
He found that he was still on an opened ended administrative leave and could come back but with stipulations, like him qualifying on the firing range and doing desk duty. Plus there had to be meetings with a doctor picked by the department to make sure he was fit to go back on the streets. Hutch accepted all the terms eagerly and was excited to be returning to the job he loved. He felt like he was ready to be a cop again.


                                                                           ~CHAPTER TWO~


Hutch and Starsky slid into their favorite booth at Huggy Bear’s. Huggy had waved at them when they had entered and was now carrying two frosty mugs of beer their way.
“Nice to see you two,” Huggy said, sitting the brews on the table. “How are things?”
“Hanging in there,” Hutch said with what he hoped was a cheery tone to his voice. He didn’t want anyone else hovering over him; Huggy had dropped by his apartment almost as much as Starsky, also bringing food. He once jokingly told them, when he opened the door to find them both standing there holding bags of food, that they were going to make him fat.
“Good, good,” Huggy grinned, his white teeth almost blinding in his dark face. He cast a sideways glance at Starsky, and said, “So, what can I get you boys today?”
“Usual?” Starsky asked, looking at Hutch who nodded. “Burgers with the works and fries.”
“Be back in a flash,” Huggy said, sticking his pencil behind his ear and ripping off their order from the pad he had written it on. “Angie will whip this right up.”
“Tell him to take his time, we are in no hurry.” Starsky called to Huggy, who was headed for the kitchen.
“We only have an hour,” Hutch reminded Starsky.
He shrugged, “Dobey won’t care if we are few minutes late.”
Hutch sighed, “I wish you would stop treating me like I’m going to break. It’s starting to get annoying.”
“What are you talking about?” Starsky asked coyly.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I haven’t heard Dobey raise his voice once since we have been back. Or you…”
“What about me?” Starsky asked.
“Starsk, you have started eating better,” Hutch said shaking his head with a small grin on his face.
“Pl-e-a-s-e,” Starsky drug out the word. “What makes you think that has anything to do with you? Maybe I just saw the errors of my ways.”
“I doubt that,” Hutch said. “I bet the moment you leave me you run for the nearest taco stand or donut joint.”
Starsky snorted, “You are crazy!” The humor left his voice and he looked at Hutch with guilt written on his face.
“See,” Hutch said pointing at his friend. “That right there, what is that look for? I was never crazy just brainwashed.” Hutch winked at Starsky.
“Don’t joke about it,” Starsky said.
“Well somebody has too. I feel like everything that everybody says is guarded, like they are afraid they are going to say the wrong thing and I’m going to fall apart.”
“Hutch, listen…”
Interrupting Starsky, Hutch said, “I know why you are doing it. But you don’t have too. Really, I am better. I wouldn’t say one hundred percent, but I’m close. Sam said it might take years before I’m totally okay, but I’m not going to fly apart anytime soon…I promise.”
Starsky gave Hutch an uncertain smile as Huggy put their food in front of them. Then he sat down next to Hutch, “So, my man, when are you hitting the streets?”
Slowly, Starsky shook his head back and forth not wanting the bar owner to have asked the question. Hutch threw Starsky a look then turned his attention back to Huggy. “It will probably be a few more months. I have my weapons qualifying to do and I’m sure there will be a few more hoops I have to jump through before they will let me ride with Starsk again.”
“Are you okay with that?” Huggy wanted to know.
Starsky felt like reaching across the table and snatching the words out of the air. But Hutch only grinned at Huggy, “It’s nice to ease back in. I was gone a year and a half, it’s kind of hard to fall back into the groove.”
The groove that Hutch was referring to and unknown to Starsky, was that he couldn’t hold his gun with out his hands shaking. Up until now, he had been able to make some sort of excuse to his friend to keep him away from the firing range when he was practicing. He wondered how long he could keep up the excuses since Starsky was starting to be more persistent about him passing his test, the biggest step to Hutch getting to hit the streets.
Huggy clapped Hutch on the back. “Good to hear, I’ll let you eat before it gets cold.”
As soon as Huggy was out of ear shot, Hutch looked across the table. “You don’t have to protect me, partner. I can take care of myself and a few questions from a good friend don’t bother me in the least.”
“I’m sorry, Hutch,” Starsky said, wishing that they had stopped at the taco stand that Hutch so intuitively guessed he was still visiting.
Hutch shrugged as he began to eat his lunch, they finished their meals in silence, and they both noticed that they did a lot of things in silence these days. Mostly because Starsky never knew what to say and he hated it, and sometimes the silence was just easier for Hutch, and he didn’t mind it.
On their way out they noticed two officers from another department that were sitting close to the door. They both looked up as the detectives paid their bill at the bar. One of the men nudged the other and whispered something. Starsky didn’t catch the words but did catch the look they were both giving Hutch.
In a flash Starsky was at the table glaring at the two officers. “If you have something to say, why don’t you say it to me?” Starsky growled at them.
They both glanced at Hutch, then down at the table. “Sorry Detective Starsky, we didn’t mean anything by it.”
“What didn’t you mean?” Starsky demanded to know.
“I was just telling Brent here what happened to Detective Hutchinson, he’s new on the force,” Officer Collin Anderson answered.
“You really think that is something that needs to be spread around? Wasn’t it bad enough that it was on every TV, radio station and news paper for weeks?”
“Starsky,” Hutch grabbed his partner’s arm, “Come on, we are going to be late.”
“No, these jerks think its okay to sit here and gossip about things they know nothing about.” Starsky snapped, pulling his arm from Hutch’s grasp.
“Starsky,” Hutch said more firmly this time and bodily pushed him toward the door. “Out, now.”
“Listen, Detective Hutchinson, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I guess I wasn’t thinking,” Anderson’s face was turning red.
“Don’t worry about it.” Hutch told the man as he pushed his enraged partner out the front door of the bar. By this time the whole bar was watching the commotion.
The two detectives blinked in the brightness of outside in contrast to the darkness of the bar. “Can you believe those two?”
“And just how was what you did any different? In fact, it was worse. They were having a private conversation that nobody could hear. You drew the whole attention of the bar.” Hutch was angry, how was he supposed to get his life back on track when Starsky wouldn’t let him. He knew that his partner was only trying to protect him but he was making it worse. “There will always be somebody talking about what happened and about me, Starsky. Are you going to beat them all up? I can fight my own battles if it comes that.”
Starsky slumped against the side of the Torino. “God, Hutch, I’m so sorry. It just pissed me off so much that I didn’t think.”
Hutch leaned on the car next to his friend and put his hand on Starsky’s shoulder. “I know this has been hard on you, partner.”
“Hard on me?” Starsky looked at his friend incredulously. “You are the one that has gone through all this shit, not me.”
Hutch sighed and after several minutes finally said, “Thank you. I have been meaning to say that for a long time but I guess…well, I was afraid to say it because I really didn’t want to bring it up.”
Starsky looked at Hutch, “What have you got to thank me for?”
“Get in the car,” Hutch said as he opened the passenger side door. After they were both in the car and Starsky had merged into traffic. Hutch explained. “I really dumped a lot on you.”
Starsky held up his hand to stop Hutch, “I really don’t want to do this right now.”
Hutch sighed again and nodded, he might be ready to say what he needed to say, but Starsky wasn’t ready to listen yet. He would wait, but he would say it eventually, even if Starsky didn’t want to hear it.
Starsky dropped Hutch off at the station and went out on a call that had come in when they were only a block from the station. Starsky had been tempted to just take Hutch along but that could have not only gotten Hutch suspended, but him as well. Until Hutch had the green light, he was not allowed to go out on any calls.
As Hutch entered the squad room Dobey poked his head out of his office door. “Hutchinson, could I see you in my office?”
“Sure thing, Cap,” Hutch answered.
When the detective was seated in his captain’s office Dobey slid a paper across his desk toward Hutch. “This is the report from the instructor at the firing range. You seem to be having some problems; you use to be one of the best shots in the department, what’s up?”
Hutch picked up the paper and read it quickly. Shrugging he laid it back on the captain’s desk. “I just can’t seem to…to…” He wasn’t sure what was really wrong. “Cap, every time I pick up my gun my hand starts shaking so badly that I can’t hit the target.”
“What does Starsky think?”
“I don’t know; I keep making up excuses not to have him with me. I’m just afraid he will worry.”
“Do we have anything to worry about?” Dobey asked.
“No, Cap, I’m fine, really.”
“Have you been seeing the department doctor?”
“Every week like clock work.”
“How about Doctor Smith?”
“I was actually thinking of calling him tonight. I haven’t spoken with him since I started back to work here.”
“Maybe he can give you some insight as to what is going on.” Dobey said, concern etched on his face.
“I might just have to face the fact that I may never be able to go back out on the streets.” Hutch said.
“Don’t give up, son,” Dobey said kindly. “Just give it some time; you have really been through an ordeal that nobody really understands but you.”
Hutch gave a small laugh, “I’m not even sure I understand it. If you don’t mind, Cap, I think I’ll leave and see if Sam has time to talk to me right now.”
“Sure,” Dobey answered. “Do you want to get Starsky to go with you?”
“Cap, I’m fine, really.”
“I know you are,” Dobey gave him a smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

As Hutch drove to Sam’s house, it occurred to him how many times a day he had to tell people he was fine. He was constantly reassuring everybody that everything was alright; he wondered how long that would last. All he truly wanted was for things to get back to normal and for people to treat him normally. The stares didn’t bother him nearly as much as everybody asking him how he was.
He pulled up in front of Sam’s house and was relieved to see the man’s car in his drive way. Hutch walked up the front steps and stood at the door his fist poised to knock. Suddenly, he wondered why he had come; maybe he was making a mistake and this was taking a step backward, not forward.
“Ken?”
Hutch froze for a moment then turned to see Sam standing in the yard behind him wearing gardening gloves, carrying a shovel. “Sam.” Hutch greeted the man.
“Hutch, it’s great to see you, how have things been going?”
“I’m fine…I’m…I’m not fine.” Hutch admitted as he sat down on the top step.
Sam leaned the shovel against the house and slid off his gloves, he joined Hutch on the step. “What’s going on?”
“I’m tired of saying, I’m fine,” Hutch blurted out.
Sam chucked. “Everyone is worried about you, especially that partner of yours, uh?”
Hutch nodded, “I think I’m starting to worry about me too.”
“You want to come in and talk about it?”
“I don’t want to interrupt your yard work, Sam.”
Sam waved his hand, “This old man needs a drink and a break so come on in.”




                                                                      ~CHAPTER THREE~


With two beers in his hand Sam lead Hutch the den, the room where Hutch started his deprogramming. It still looked the same, the same large leather chairs; the same book shelves filled with volumes of books, the same bank of windows. “Have a seat,” Sam said pointing to one of the two chairs, as Hutch sat down Sam handed him a beer. “So tell me what is going on?”
“The dreams are starting to come back,” Hutch again blurted out his answer.
Sam’s brow furrowed but only a moment. “It’s not uncommon to have a relapse. It has been a little long, but like I said, it’s not uncommon. You aren’t having suicidal thoughts again are you?”
Hutch shook his head.
“Are you lying to me?” Sam asked his eyes piercing Hutch’s.
“No, I would have come to you sooner if I would have started feeling like that.”
“Good, you know you can call me day or night. I’m always here for you.”
“I appreciate that,” Hutch said. “As much as I love Starsky, there are just some things that I can’t talk to him about, you know?”
“Yes, he just can’t understand every aspect of what has happened to you. He can only see it from his perspective.” Sam said taking a long drink of his beer.
“Has he ever come to see you?” Hutch wanted to know.
Sam shook his head, “I wish he would, I have counseled many family members whose loved ones have been brainwashed, and it’s hard on them too but in a different way.”
“I tried to talk to Starsky today; I wanted to thank him for all he has done. But he just doesn’t want to talk about it.”
“It probably makes it real again, brings back a lot of bad memories.” Sam said. “I would really like to speak with him if you can get him to come see me.”
“I’ll try,” Hutch said.
“So you are hanging out with Dave again?”
Hutch nodded, “I have gone back to work for the department.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “I wish you would have told me this in the beginning, no wonder your dreams have returned.”
“Was it wrong to go back to police work?” Hutch wanted to know.
“Of course not, but it’s not surprising that some feelings and dreams are resurfacing. I’m sure you are reminded daily of things that happened.”
Hutch nodded.
“Are you seeing the department shrink?” Sam asked.
“Once a week.”
“Have you told him any of this?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I guess that I’m so used to telling people that I’m fine, I want to believe it myself.” Hutch confessed.
“Would you like us to start our sessions again, Ken?”
“I think…yes, I would.”
“I’m totally open right now so anytime that is convenient for you is fine with me.” Sam said. “But there is something that I want you to do.”
“Anything.”
“Stop telling people you are fine. I’m not saying you need to spill your guts, but if you are having a bad day don’t say you are fine. You can say I’ve had better days or what ever, just don’t use that pat line that you are fine.”
“But Starsky will worry.”
“That’s okay.”
“It’s okay to worry him?”
“Ken, Dave has always been your safety net. That was the reason I wanted you two apart so that you could learn to rely on yourself again. But now it’s okay to rely on somebody else. He knows you very well and he might sense you are in trouble before you realize it yourself.”
Hutch had to laugh, “I think he already knows something is going on with me. I can tell by the way he’s acting.”
“Maybe, if you come clean with him as to what has been going on, he will feel better.”
“Or permanently move in with me.” Hutch joked.
Sam smiled, “I’m glad to see you have gotten your sense of humor back. Ken, you are going to make it through this, it’s only a little rough patch.”
“I already feel better,” Hutch leaned back into the soft leather of the chair and took his first drink from the bottle he had been holding.

The first thing that Starsky noticed when he walked into the squad room was that Hutch wasn’t at his desk. He looked around the room not spying Hutch anywhere; he felt a small tingle of fear run up his spine.
Starsky went to Dobey’s office door, knocked, then opened the door and walked in. Dobey had the phone to his ear with his shoulder and he was writing on a pad of paper. Dobey glanced up, not surprised to see Starsky, as he never waited before to be invited into the captain’s office.
When he was done with the phone call he dropped the phone back in its cradle and growled at Starsky, “Do you ever wait for somebody to say come in?”
“Sorry, Cap, but Hutch isn’t at this desk and no where in the squad room.” Starsky said in a rush of words. “Maybe he went to the cafeteria.” Starsky spun to leave but Dobey stopped him.
“Starsky, Hutchinson left.”
Starsky turned to stare at his captain. “What do you mean he left? Where did he go? Home? Is he alright?”
“Calm down.” Dobey got to his feet and came around the desk to stand in front of his detective. “He went to see Dr. Smith.”
Starsky’s face paled. “He hasn’t seen him since he has been back has he?”
Dobey shook his head no. “Only the department doc.”
“What’s wrong? Why did he go see him?”
“I think you need to talk to your partner about that,” Dobey suggested.

When Hutch walked out of Sam’s house he wasn’t totally surprised to see Starsky sitting on the hood of his car waiting for him. Sam shook hands with Hutch before he started down the sidewalk toward his waiting friend. Starsky slid off the hood of the car and met Hutch half way up the walk.
“What’s going on?” Starsky asked, feeling a flood of relief that Hutch looked fine.
“I just needed to talk to Sam,” Hutch said, “What are you doing here?”
“I got back and you were gone, Dobey told me you had come to see Sam. It’s okay that I’m here right?”
“Of course, buddy. But we need to talk.” Hutch said as he went to his car.
Starsky’s relieved feeling was suddenly replaced with dread, was Hutch going to tell him he was leaving again? “Sure,” choked out Starsky.
“You want to come back to my place?”
Starsky merely nodded as he went to his car and got in to follow Hutch back to his apartment. So many thoughts went through Starsky’s head as they drove the distance to the apartment. Why had Hutch gone to see Sam? He knew that things weren’t quite right; Hutch had been distant and distracted for the last week, more than usual. Things weren’t exactly the same between the two of them since Hutch’s return. He knew part of it was his fault; he couldn’t stop worrying about his friend no matter how many times he was told that Hutch was fine. There was just something missing. He wished that he had never agreed to talking Hutch into going with Sam that day in the hospital, but then again, Starsky realized that if Hutch hadn’t, he might be dead by now.
Hutch reached his apartment first and was waiting in the stairwell when Starsky pulled his red and white car behind Hutch’s junker. When Starsky walked up to him, Hutch grinned, “You look like you are going in front of a firing squad.”
“I feel like it,” Starsky answered honestly.
“Come on,” Hutch said as he lead the way up the stairs to his apartment. Once inside they sat down on the couch together, Starsky steeled himself for what he knew was coming.
“Starsky, I’m having trouble on the firing range; that is why I haven’t wanted you there.”
It took several minutes for Starsky to process what Hutch said. He had been so sure that his friend was going to tell him he was quitting the department and moving far away that Hutch’s confession didn’t compute. “What?” Was all that he managed to get out.
“I’m too shaky, I can’t hit the target,” Hutch elaborated.
“This is what you wanted to tell me?” Starsky looked at Hutch.
“That and I have started having dreams again. Not bad like they were but bits and pieces of things that happened. That is why I went to Sam. He said that it’s normal to have kind of a relapse and then when I told him I had come back to the station he wasn’t surprised at all.”
“So you aren’t quitting and moving away?”
“What? Why would you think that?” Hutch asked, a grin forming on his face.
“You said you needed to talk to me and you had just come out of Sam’s house. You have been distant all week, so I was worried.”
“God, Starsk, I didn’t mean to worry you like that.” Hutch said. “I’m going to make a promise to you, I’ll start telling you everything, whether I think it’s going to worry you or not. I guess it’s kind of nice to have somebody worry about me.”
“You have been concerned about worrying me? That is what all this has been about?”
Hutch nodded. “I was afraid if I told you that I was having dreams that you would be afraid I was going to try to kill my self again. Sam told me that I need you to be my safety net. That you know me better than anyone and you would probably know I was in trouble before I did. I guess Sam was right. You have known there was something wrong all week.”
Starsky shrugged, “Hey, what are friends for anyway?”
“I’m not going anywhere okay? I’m done running, I’m going to stay here and work until I have mastered the firing range and until I have chased every one of these dreams away.”
“I’ll be right there with you buddy.”

                                                                                    ~CHAPTER FOUR~


Hutch stood in one of the firing cubicles; Dobey still had his Magnum locked up along with his badge, so he was using one of the firing range revolvers. He was just starting to put on his ear protection and safety glasses when Starsky appeared next to him.
“Sorry I’m late, buddy,” Starsky said out of breath. “I had to stop and get something.” He pulled Hutch’s .375 Magnum from his under his coat. “I asked Dobey if you could practice with it, might make it easier if you had your own gun.”
Hutch gave his partner a nervous grin. “I hope so, let’s see how this goes.” He gingerly took his gun from Starsky and turned it over in his hands, feeling the cool steel of the weapon. He hadn’t touched it since the day he had turned over to Dobey nearly two years ago.
“I’m right here with you,” Starsky reassured his partner.
The gun felt heavy in his hands as he raised it toward the target several feet from where he was standing. Hutch took a deep breath but as he started to pull the trigger his hands began to shake and he lowered the gun. “I’m sorry.” Hutch said.
“There is nothing to be sorry about, it’s just going to take some time to get your bearings back, that’s all,” Starsky said, hiding his disappointment. He wanted his partner back on the streets with him.

The night that Starsky drove back from the beach house was the longest drive of his life. He couldn’t believe that Hutch was never returning to the force and even worse, that he was staying at the beach house far away from him. He selfishly wondered why Hutch couldn’t work out the rest of his problems in L.A. The past three months had been hell, just talking to Sam was not enough for him, and he needed to talk to Hutch so he knew he was alright.
Alone, he had gone back to Hutch’s apartment as soon as he knew his friend was going to live, to once again clean up, but this time it wasn’t spilled dirt from one of Hutch’s precious plants. It had been Hutch’s life force…his blood. Starsky could hardly believe that Hutch was alive, it seemed that every ounce of Hutch’s blood covered the bathroom, in the soaked towels, the odd rust color that was left in the tub was most disturbing; the razor blade that still lay in a patch of crusted blood.
Starsky had swept the blade into the trash can with a sponge, not wanting to touch it. He scrubbed with bleach and tossed out the towels that he had used to stop Hutch’s bleeding wrists. The bathmat had a rust tint to it that he couldn’t stand to look at. He replaced everything, even went as far as to paint the walls.
After Hutch went to the beach house with Sam, Starsky watched over his partner’s apartment, watering plants, bringing in the mail, paying bills, readying the place for Hutch’s return. He had been crushed when he found out that Hutch was not coming back, at least not right away. What had he said? A couple of months more.
At work Starsky was irritable, snapping at people for no reason, until Dobey had finally called him into his office and told him that he had to either get a hold of himself or he would put the detective on administrative leave. The thought of having nothing to do forced Starsky to reign in his emotions enough to be civil. Countless times Dobey tried to get Starsky to take on a new partner but he refused every time. He guessed in the back of his mind he thought that Hutch would return someday.
Return Hutch did, at least to town, Starsky was overjoyed when Hutch had called him and said that he was coming back. Starsky had wanted to drive out and bring him back from the beach house but Hutch refused the offer, saying that he wanted to drive back himself.
Starsky had waited in Hutch’s apartment for his return. He had shopped and cleaned in preparation for Hutch’s home coming. Made sure that all his plants were watered and that everything was in place. He waited impatiently for his friend’s return, as soon as he heard Hutch’s key in the door he leapt to his feet and opened the door. He could tell from the look on Hutch’s face that he wasn’t surprised to see him there.

“Dammit! Why can’t I do this?” Hutch exploded and handed his gun to Starsky.
Starsky took the gun and looked at his partner. “Have you told the department shrink or Sam that you can’t fire your gun?” Starsky asked.
Hutch shook his head.
“Why not?”
Hutch shrugged, “I don’t want to the department doc to know, don’t want it getting around. And I don’t know why I didn’t tell Sam. I told him everything else but that.”
“Maybe you should at least talk to Sam about it.” Starsky suggested. “He might be able to help you.”
“Starsk, I think we should face the fact that I might never be well enough to ride with you again.” Hutch said looking at the ground.
“Don’t say that,” Starsky said sharply. “You have only been back a month, we will keep coming every night until you can do this.”
“Yeah, okay,” Hutch said despondently as he took off the ear protection and glasses, “I think I’ve had it for tonight.”
Starsky nodded not wanting to push his partner. “Let me run up and return your gun to Dobey’s office and then we can get out of here, get some dinner.”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just head home,” Hutch said, noticing the look on Starsky’s face, Hutch added, “I’ll call you if I need anything…promise.”
“Alright,” Starsky reluctantly agreed and confirmed. “You’ll call if you need anything, even just to talk.”
“I told you I would,” Hutch slipped on his jacket and left the room.
Starsky stood for a few moments watching his partner leave. He had an uneasy feeling as he headed to replace Hutch’s gun in his captain’s office.
When Starsky opened Dobey’s office door, the captain was still sitting behind his desk. “Well how did Hutchinson do?”
“He still needs more practice,” Starsky answered as he handed the gun to Dobey.
“Give him time, he’ll get here.” Dobey said standing up. “Well I had better get home, I’m sure my dinner has gone cold by now. Edith isn’t going to be too happy with me.”
“Night, Cap,” Starsky said leaving the office. He didn’t like the nagging feeling that he had as he made his way down stairs and out to the lot where his car was parked.
Starsky was nearly home when he turned his car around and headed toward Hutch’s, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling something was not right with his partner.

Hutch stood in the bathroom staring at his reflection, he looked the same, perhaps a little thinner, a little older, maybe even a little gray, but it was hard to tell with his blond hair. He took a deep breath and started to turn away when he had a flash of the night he killed himself. A brown paper bag sat on the side of the sink, he knew the contents of the bag; it was the pack of razor blades he had gotten from the corner store. He had known exactly what he was doing when he had gone in that store; he had gone straight to the blades and had picked them up with no reservations. The girl at the cash register had smiled at him as she rung up his purchase with no idea what he had planned for the blades. He couldn’t remember if he smiled back at her or not.
The bag fell to the floor, he picked them up and took out one of the blades which he tested on his thumb, he could almost feel the pressure and see the blood, just has he had that night. He could see each drop of blood as it hit the whiteness of the sink. Splat…splat…splat. The room seemed to spin and the light above the sink got a brighter. Hutch closed his eyes and held onto the side of the sink to keep from falling.

Starsky climbed the steps two at a time, yelling Hutch’s name as he went, praying he was wrong, that the feeling he was having was just him being paranoid. When he reached the door, Starsky pounded on it with one fist as he felt above the door for the key. “HUTCH!”

Hutch heard his name being called, it sounded like it was a long way away and he wondered who was yelling for him. His eyes popped open, gone was the bright light, the blood splatters and the brown paper bag on the edge of the sink. Hutch looked around the bathroom disoriented and scared. What was happening to him? He looked on the floor to see if the bag had fallen from the sink again, it had felt so real. With a shaking hand Hutch grabbed the doorknob and turned it. Just as he stepped out of the bathroom Starsky flung open his apartment door and rushed in.
“Hutch, are you alright?” Starsky asked, alarmed at Hutch’s pale, sweaty face and shaking hands. He gently led Hutch to the couch, almost having to force him to sit down.
“I-I don’t know I…” Hutch said as he voice broke, “I thought I was beyond this shit.”
Starsky backed toward the bathroom as he kept an eye on his friend. He glanced in but nothing was out of place or seemed out of the ordinary. Going back to Hutch on the couch he flopped down next to him. “Hutch what happened?”
“I guess I had a sort of flash back.” Hutch stammered.
“What kind of flash back?”
Hutch was hesitant to tell Starsky, they had never talked about that night, “I was looking in the mirror and…”
“Go on,” Starsky encouraged. “It’s okay.”
“I could see that night in my mind as if it were happening all over again. I could-could see the razor blades, the blood dripping in the sink from when I tried it out on my thumb. God, it was so real…” Hutch trailed off.
Starsky looked at him in horror, then went to the phone. “I’m calling Sam.”
“Starsk, no, it’s late.”
“I don’t care, I’m calling Sam. I learned my lesson from before, I’m not taking no for an answer. You just sit there and catch your breath.” Starsky ordered.
“Hello?” said a sleepy voice on the other end of the line.
“Sam Smith?”
“Yes, this is Sam; may I ask who is calling?” Sam said as he switched his bed side light on. Usually when he got calls this late something was wrong.
“This is Dave Starsky, Ken Hutchinson’s partner.”
“Oh yes, yes, I thought your voice sounded familiar. How can I help you?” Sam asked.
“It’s, Hutch,” Starsky said. “I’m at his apartment now, he had a flash back to the night he killed himself. He is pretty upset, can I bring him over?”
“No, you stay put, I’ll be right there,” Sam said as he got out of bed.


                                                                        ~CHAPTER FIVE~


By the time Sam reached Hutch’s apartment the detective had calmed down considerably. He was sitting on the couch, his head resting on the back, eyes close. It was Starsky that answered Sam’s knock. Sam went straight to Hutch, he checked his pulse, it had been racing but was now back to normal. Sam looked at Starsky, “Could we have a moment?”
“Yeah, sure,” Starsky answered, he left the apartment, closing the door behind him. He sat on the top step, his legs unable to hold him any longer. Starsky’s hands were now shaking; he dropped his head into his shaking hands as tears sprung to his eyes. This was entirely his fault; if he hadn’t pushed Hutch to come back to the department, none of this would be happening. Why couldn’t he have just been happy to just have his friend back?
Inside the apartment Sam sat in a chair across from Hutch. “Want to tell me what happened?”
Again, Hutch told what had happened to him in the bathroom. “What is happening to me?”
“You are having Post-Traumatic Stress, Ken. It’s not uncommon.” Sam told him as he placed a hand on the detective’s knee.
“That’s what soldiers have when they come back from a war.”
Sam nodded, “But soldiers are not the only ones who can suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress. Anybody who has been through something as traumatic as you have can suffer from it.”
“So what do we do about it?” Hutch asked.

As Starsky sat on the step he suddenly decided that if Hutch was leaving the department again that he was going back to New York. He knew his mother would be delighted to see him and she was getting older, it might be nice to be near her again. He sure couldn’t count on his self-centered ass of a brother to be around for her if she needed something. He just couldn’t bear the thought of being on the streets without Hutch. Maybe he could talk him into coming with him, Hutch could start over, they both could.
Starsky was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear Hutch’s apartment door open or Sam call his name, he was unaware the man was behind him until he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Sam’s face. “Come on back in, we have something to talk to you about.”
Dread washed over Starsky, even with all his plans going through his head, he never thought it would really come to this. Hutch was leaving the force, he just knew it. Starsky slowly walked into the apartment. Hutch was sitting on the couch looking much calmer and his color had returned. “Hutch, I just want you to know, whatever you decide is okay with me.” Starsky thought the words sounded hollow coming from his lips.
Hutch could tell from the tone of his partner’s voice that Starsky thought the news was bad. “It’s going to be okay, Starsk.”
“I know,” Starsky said as he leaned on the back of the couch bracing himself for the news.
Hutch nodded to Sam, Starsky knew it had to be bad if Hutch couldn’t even tell him himself. Starsky held his breath and waited. Sam glanced at Hutch, then at Starsky, who looked as if he were about ready to explode. “Dave, I think it’s best and Ken has agreed that…”
Starsky sucked in a big gulp of air and held it again; this was all taking too long he thought, just spill it.
“…it would be a good idea if you two got an apartment together for a while anyway, if it’s agreeable with you.”
All the air that Starsky had been holding in came out in a whoosh as he stared first at Sam, then swung his eyes to Hutch who was grinning boyishly. “That was just cruel,” Starsky sputtered.
“Sorry, buddy,” Hutch said in a relieved voice, he could tell that at this point, Starsky would agree to anything to keep him around.
“You are so bullheaded,” Starsky glared at Hutch. “I asked you about this, months ago.”
“I know, I know.”
“It takes a doctor to tell you it would be better if you had somebody around all the time?” Starsky stormed at his friend forgetting the situation that was having them move in together.
Sam stood back and watched the banter between to the two men and wondered if perhaps he had made a mistake separating them two years ago when he took Hutch to the beach. It was clear that they had a special bond between each other. At least Sam knew that he was making the right decision this time.
“If I may interrupt…” Sam said; they both turned to look at the doctor. “I think things are under control for tonight, Ken, I would like to see you at the house tomorrow. Whatever time is convenient for you, just let me know. Dave, you are a good friend and anytime you need to talk I’m there for you too.”
“Thanks, doc,” Starsky said extending his hand to shake Sam’s.
Sam accepted his hand, “You take care of him.” Sam winked at Starsky.
“Oh, don’t you worry, I will.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Hutch said, it was his turn to shake his hand. “For everything, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It was nearing 2 a.m. by the time Sam left; Starsky started making himself comfortable on the couch. “Starsk, you don’t have to stay tonight. Go home, get some rest.”
Shaking his head Starsky replied, “Nope, I’m staying right here, besides if I went home I would never get any sleep worrying about you. I’m staying right here.”
Hutch sighed knowing it was no use to argue with his friend. “I guess we had better get to looking for a bigger place.”
Starsky nodded, he was half asleep already. “Yep.”
Hutch went into the bed room and retrieved a blanket from the closet which he brought out and covered Starsky with. “Night, buddy.” There was no answer only Starsky’s even breathing.

It was nearly 5 a.m. when the phone rang jolting both men from their sleep. It was Hutch that answered the phone, he walked into the living room to tell Starsky he had a call from Captain Dobey.
Starsky grabbed the phone from the end table, “What’s up, Cap?”
“I had a hell of a time tracking you down,” Dobey commented.
“Sorry.”
“Dana McBain is your girlfriend?”
“Was,” Starsky answered. “We broke up a month or so ago. Why?”
“She was found dead about an hour ago. I thought you might like to know before it hit the airwaves.” Dobey told him.
“Dead, what happened?”
“I really don’t want to discuss this now. I’ll see you in the office.” Dobey said not wanting to go into detail on the phone. He stood in the doorway of a rundown motel room as police and medical personnel swarmed around him.
Starsky could hear the commotion in the background. “Are you at the scene?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“Starsky, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come down here,” Dobey said as he nodded to an officer who handed him a white note card sealed in a plastic bag. The outside of the card had the words ‘Dave Starsky’ printed on it.
“What happened to her?”
“I told you, not now.”
Dobey’s reluctance to tell the detective only made him more insistent to know what happened. “Does this involve me in anyway?”
“In a way,” Dobey was vague again.
“Then I have a right to know what is going on.”
Dobey sighed knowing his detective was right. “Royal Hotel, second floor.”
“Thanks, Cap, I’ll be there as quickly as I can.” Starsky hung up the phone and looked at Hutch. “Do you remember Dana?”
“Kinda,” Hutch said. Starsky had only been dating her a few weeks when the whole brainwashing nightmare had started.
“She was found dead in the Royal Hotel, I need to get over there.” Starsky said, smoothing his curly hair. He wished he had time to go home to shower and change clothes but he didn’t want to keep Dobey waiting.
“Go on, I’ll be fine,” Hutch said. “I’ll see you at the station.”
“Are you sure?”
Hutch just looked at his partner.
“Okay, okay,” Starsky said as he grabbed his gun and jacket from the chair where he had tossed them the night before.
As Starsky got into his car he thought about Dana McBain, she was ten years his junior, had shoulder length brown hair and flashing green eyes. He had been instantly attracted to her when they literally ran into each other at the local donut shop. They had their first date that night and the relationship probably would have really gotten off the ground if Hutch hadn’t been arrested for murder several weeks after their meeting.
Dana and Starsky saw each other several times after that, but most of his energy was focused on Hutch. But after Hutch went away, the relationship with Dana heated up again. Starsky needed somebody to lose himself in and with Hutch gone, it was Dana. The pair got close and he spent all his free time with her, but when he learned that Hutch was coming back, all his attention and energy once again focused on his partner.
But this time Dana had too much invested in her man to let his partner become all consuming again. She refused to lose Dave; many fights ensued between the couple. Starsky tried to get her to help ready Hutch’s apartment in anticipation of his returned but she flatly refused. In their final blow out, she screamed at Starsky that perhaps he should buy his partner an engagement ring! She had turned on her heels leaving Starsky to stare after her. He could only assume that she was expecting him to present her with a ring, but it hadn’t crossed his mind.
Time and time again he tried to contact Dana, sent her flowers, but to no avail. He found out that she had moved and left no forwarding address. So Starsky gave up, he had more pressing matters at hand with Hutch back, and now he was finally going to get to see her again. This wasn’t the way he had planned it, he had thought of her often and maybe she wasn’t so off base after all about a ring. Now that she was gone he had to wonder if he had just lost ‘the one’.
​

                                                                               ~CHAPTER SIX~


Starsky screeched up in front of the seedy hotel and hopped out of his car. The area was teeming emergency vehicles; the corner’s truck was parked nearly on the sidewalk with the back doors hanging open in anticipation of the body that would be brought down shortly on a gurney.
Taking the steps two at a time, Starsky reached the second floor in a matter of minutes and hurried down the hall to the room where Dana obviously had been found, given the number of police standing in the doorway.
Just as he started to step into the room Dobey grabbed his arm. “Starsky, I need to speak to you first,” Dobey said dragging him away from the hubbub.
“Cap, is she still in there?”
Dobey nodded, “Son, there is something you need to know before you go in. Miss McBain killed herself, not unlike the way Hutchinson tried.”
“What?” Starsky’s eyes filled with pain as he looked toward the door and thought about the lovely woman with so much life in her.
“Did you tell her about Hutch?” Dobey wanted to know.
Starsky nodded, “I guess I leaned on her a little too much when Hutch left. I told her everything. Christ, why did she do this? Was there a note?” Starsky asked.
Dobey nodded again; hesitantly he handed the suicide note to Starsky. Starsky saw that his name was written on the back of the note card. “Why would she write to me, I haven’t seen her in a couple of months?” Starsky turned the card over, the words that were written there almost made him sick, for it read; “Now maybe you will pay attention to me.”
“Are you alright?” Dobey asked putting his hand on Starsky’s shoulder.
“I-I don’t know what to say.” Starsky handed the plastic wrapped card back to Dobey and started toward the hotel room.
“I don’t think that is wise choice,” Dobey said.
“I have to see,” Starsky answered as he pushed his way into the room. Everything in the room was in perfect order as he walked to the bathroom and looked in. Dana was still in the tub, she was naked, and a razor blade lay on the edge of the tub that had now been drained of water. Her wet hair fell across her stark white face; her wrists were cut exactly the way Hutch had cut his. Only this time it had worked, he hadn’t been there to stop Dana the way he had stopped Hutch. Had Dana been counting on him to save her? Had she called or left a note at his apartment? With these questions whirling around in his head, Starsky felt the room going dark. In the distance he heard shouts, he didn’t feel himself fall to the floor or the paramedic’s load him onto a gurney. Starsky didn’t know anything else until he woke up three hours later in a hospital with a concerned Hutch standing over him.
“W-what happened?” Starsky asked as he sat up and looked around the hospital room. “What am I doing in the hospital?”
“You passed out at the hotel; I guess Dobey told them to take you to the hospital.” Hutch said.
Starsky started to get out of bed. “Where are my clothes?”
Hutch put his palm on Starsky’s chest and pushed him back into the bed. “You are staying put for right now. The doctor will be in pretty soon; when he says you can go, is when you can go.”
Starsky grinned at Hutch, “Kind of a switch here, uh?”
“Yeah, nice isn’t it?” Hutch smiled back; then his face grew solemn, “I’m sorry about Dana. I only met her once but she seemed like a nice lady.”
Starsky frowned, “I let her down.”
“How can you say that? Didn’t you two break up?”
“Yeah, it was my fault.”
“Starsky, you can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders,” Hutch said pulling up a chair close to the bed and sitting down. “Believe me; I know how wrong things can go. You just never know what somebody is really thinking or feeling; it’s kind of like the words printed on the side mirrors on the car… objects are closer than they appear. Sometimes people lives aren’t what they appear to be either.”
“I know but…” Starsky trailed off, he couldn’t tell Hutch that Dana had killed herself or about the note. “You’re right.” Starsky finally said wanting to end the conversation before Hutch started to try and pull details out of him. Starsky was afraid it would make Hutch feel guilty too, and one of them feeling guilty was enough.
When the hospital room door opened it was Captain Dobey not the doctor that appeared in the room. “How are you doing?” Dobey asked Starsky, then he glanced at Hutch.
“I’m alright, feel kind of silly.” Starsky confessed.
“You don’t have to feel silly, you had a shock.”
Starsky looked at Dobey, then to Hutch and back to Dobey, hoping that the captain would understand what he was trying to say without speaking. Dobey caught on and changed the subject. “So, Hutch was telling me the two of you are getting an apartment.”
“For a while anyway,” Starsky answered. “Sam thought it would be good if old Hutch here as some company.”
Dobey turned to Hutch. “So are you going to start seeing Dr. Smith too?
“Yeah je knows more about this type of stuff than the department shrink, so I’ll see them both for a while.” Hutch answered.
“Whatever it takes to get you completely back on your feet, Hutchinson. “
“Thanks, Cap, it’s great to be back at the station.” Hutch said, then he asked, “Do I have a time limit to get back on the streets?”
Dobey shook his head no, “You just take as much time as you need.”
“Good, I’m still having a little trouble on the firing range and it might take a while before I can pass the test.” Hutch told his captain.
Suddenly, Starsky asking for Hutch’s gun made sense to him. “Don’t push yourself, you’ll get there, you have been though a lot.”
“I think I’m going to go get a cup of coffee, either of you want anything thing?” Both men shook their heads and Hutch left, he had gotten the feeling that they needed to talk without him in the room. He was sure he would find out what was going on later but he didn’t want to push Starsky.
As soon as Hutch had left the room, Dobey asked, “Do you know how to get in touch with her family?”
“She never talked about family,” Starsky said, suddenly finding it odd that he knew nothing about her really.
“Where did she work?” Dobey asked next.
“She was a secretary for a law office downtown,” Starsky closed his eyes trying to remember the name of it. “I’m sorry I don’t know the name. I can’t even help you with where she lived. After we broke up she moved and changed her phone number. I haven’t heard one word from her in all that time. Why would she do this?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dobey said. “I have a number of men on it; we will find a family member.”
“Didn’t she have any ID on her?”
“No,” Dobey answered. “The guy at the desk said all she had when she checked in was a brown paper bag and a wad of cash in her pocket that she paid him with. No questions asked in a place like that.”
“I just can’t understand why.” Starsky said sadly.
“How is Hutchinson really doing?”
“He had an episode last night, some sort of flash back to the night he killed himself. I call Sam; he came over to Hutch’s to check him out. Sam said he was having Post-Traumatic Stress and that it was a common thing for Hutch to be going through, but that is why he suggested we move in together. I guess he wants someone with Hutch just in case.”
“No wonder you collapsed at the hotel, you really have a lot on your plate. Who is taking care of you?” Dobey asked.
Starsky laughed, “I’m fine, Cap, really, I am. Just didn’t get much sleep last night. I ended up on Hutch’s couch as you know. I just couldn’t leave him.”
“Just don’t forget to take time for yourself.” Dobey advised.
“As soon as we find a place and get moved in I think I’ll relax some.” Starsky said then grouched, “If I ever get out of this place. Where is that doctor?”

Starsky stood, his key poised to open his front door, he had left the hospital against the doctor’s wishes but he wanted to get home. He had to make sure that Dana hadn’t left him a cry for help.
“Did you forget how that key works?” Hutch asked him.
“No, just a little scared, what if she left a message? I wasn’t here last night, I wouldn’t have gotten it.” Starsky thought to himself, taking a deep breath he jabbed the key into the lock and opened the door, he had already checked the mailbox and found nothing but junk.
Starsky went straight to his answering machine and to his relief found no messages waiting for him. “You expecting a call,” Hutch asked,
“No, I…uh…it’s nothing” He flopped down on the couch.
“Now who is keeping things to themselves?”
“It’s nothing really,” Starsky sighed. He looked around his apartment; he had lived there for years. Maybe a change was just what he needed. “Why don’t we grab some dinner and find us a place to live, what do ya say?”
“Sounds good to me.” Hutch answered as he pulled Starsky to his feet.

A week later Hutch and Starsky were standing in their newly acquired two bedroom house, they couldn’t find an apartment they liked so they decided to look at rental houses and found a perfect one several blocks from the beach. It was spacious with lots of windows for Hutch’s plants and a large patio where they could entertain.
“I guess it’s time to start moving in,” Hutch said as he surveyed the living room. He hadn’t been too keen on the whole idea at first, he loved his friend dearly but he wasn’t sure he could live with him. Their habits, especially their eating habits, were so totally different but as he stood there looking around the room he was suddenly glad they had found the house.
“It’s going to be fine,” Starsky said reading Hutch’s mind. “I won’t turn my nose up at your gray glop if you don’t bad mouth my tacos.”
Hutch grinned. “You got a deal partner!”
​

                                                                 ~CHAPTER SEVEN~

After packing up Hutch’s apartment they headed to Starsky’s to finish putting his stuff into boxes and ready everything for the truck they would be renting. Hutch was in the kitchen wrapping and putting dishes into a box when Starsky came in. “I need to go get a few more boxes.”
“I should be finished up here soon,” Hutch said as he put the last dish into the box.
“I’ll be back in a flash,” Starsky grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
Hutch hummed softly to himself as he checked the cabinets to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He had resisted the idea of moving in with Starsky when he had first suggested it, but now Hutch was looking forward to it.
He was so engrossed in what he was doing he didn’t hear the front door open, or the man slip up behind him until it was too late. By the time he felt the presence behind him, the man had grabbed him and slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth and pulled a black stocking cap over his face. Then the man bound Hutch’s hands behind his back with the tape.
Hutch had tried to struggle but his captor was several inches taller and at least fifty pounds heavier. The man pushed Hutch toward the front door roughly, “Walk, Starsky!” he ordered.
Hutch mumbled that he wasn’t Starsky but it only came out as a grunt. Hutch tried to fight as the man pushed him out the front door but to no avail, he stumbled almost falling to the ground. His captor grabbed his arm roughly propelled him toward a waiting car, that Hutch couldn’t see only hear. The man shoved Hutch into the back seat where the detective sprawled across the cracked vinyl and a rough hot blanket was tossed over him. The car door slammed, the front door opened, the driver got in slammed that door, and they sped off, leaving Hutch to wonder in the back seat.
When Starsky returned his front door was standing open, he warily stepped into his apartment and looked around. “Hutch?” he called out as he sat the boxes down in the living room. “Hutch, where are you?” Starsky went into the kitchen; everything was packed and ready to go, except for the last box that Hutch had been working on. He ran to the bedroom calling Hutch’s name, not finding him in the apartment Starsky fell panic rise in his throat. There were explanations, maybe Hutch walked to get something, a drink or just a breath of fresh air, but Starsky was sure that he wouldn’t leave the front door standing wide open.
Thankful that he hadn’t had the phone disconnected yet, he dialed Dobey’s number at work. “Dobey,” A gruff voice answered.
“Cap, we might have a problem.”
“What sort of problem?” Dobey asked, instantly knowing that it was Hutch from the tone of Starsky’s voice. Starsky quickly explained the situation. “Don’t you think you might be over reacting? Maybe he just went for a walk.”
“And leave my front door standing open?” Starsky asked. “I’m going to get in the car and drive around; he couldn’t have gotten far on foot.”
“Keep me informed.” Dobey said as he hung up the phone.
Starsky jumped in the Torino but somehow knew that he wasn’t going to find his partner walking along the street sipping a soft drink. Something was wrong; he could feel it in his bones. He drove around several blocks, hoping against hope that he would find his partner. After nearly an hour of searching with all kinds of unanswered questions running though his head, Starsky went back to his packed up apartment.
He picked up the phone again, perhaps something happened and Hutch called Sam, maybe he was having second thoughts of them moving to the house together. He dialed Sam’s number with shaky fingers. “Is Hutch there or have you heard from him?” The words burst from Starsky’s mouth.
“No,” Sam answered, “What’s going on?” Once again Starsky explained. “I’m not sure what to say. Has anything happened that could have set him off?”
“No,” Starsky said into the phone. “He has been excited about the move and he has seemed more up beat this past week.”
“That is a good sign.”
“I’m more worried that somebody might have taken him at this point. We are cops, we make a lot of enemies.”
“Were there any signs of a struggle?” Sam asked.
“No, but everything is packed up so it would be hard to tell if there had been.” Starsky said, his worry increasing.
“If you want, I’ll come over,” Sam offered.
“I appreciate the offer doc but let me do some more checking, I’ll keep you updated.”
After hanging up the phone Starsky looked around the apartment, then went back into the kitchen where he had left Hutch. A cabinet door stood open its contents packed up. Starsky shoved the door shut making a loud bang that echoed in the empty apartment. “Damn it, Hutch, where are you?”

Hutch was pulled roughly from the back seat and shoved up a long flight of stairs, he stumbled frequently on the steps and his captor cursed each time he almost fell. Finally, they arrived at the top, Hutch heard a key being inserted into a lock and then he heard a door bang open and he was shoved through the doorway where he stumbled again, falling to the floor. The room smelled of day old trash and urine. A mildew odor emanated from the worn carpet, Hutch pushed himself to a sitting position.
The man reached over and yanked the stocking cap from Hutch’s head allowing the detective to get a good breath of air, not that it was much better than the inside of the hat. Hutch looked around at the room, not surprised to find that it was dingy and run down.
Hutch looked up into the man’s face. He was well built, with shaggy light brown hair and a scraggly beard. He was wearing a plaid shirt that had the sleeves cut out of it and worn, filthy blue jeans. He had a gun tucked into the back of his jeans, but as of yet, he hadn’t used it to threaten Hutch. Hutch mumbled at the man and tried to pull the tape from his mouth by rubbing his face on sleeve of his shirt.
“I’ll talk it off,” the man said, “But if you yell, I’ll shoot you.” He reached around and touched the gun.
Hutch nodded to show the man he understood. His captor reached down and yanked the tape from Hutch’s mouth taking bits of skin with it. Hutch grimaced as the torn spots on his lips began to bleed. “What is this about?” Hutch wanted to know. He didn’t try to move from the floor, he just sat staring at the man.
“You are going to get what you deserve, Starsky,” the man growled.
“I’m not, Starsky,” Hutch answered.
“Yeah, sure, you were in his apartment, nobody else was there, so just who are you supposed to be?”
“I’m, Ken Hutchinson, Starsky’s partner.”
“You mean the crazy one? The one that was so important that he left my girl to kill herself?” He yelled in Hutch’s face. “Nice try, Starsky, but I don’t believe you.”
“Who are you talking about?” Hutch asked.
“Dana, remember Dana? You stole her away from me, we were supposed to be married but then you came into the picture and she dumped me.”
Dana, Starsky’s ex-girlfriend had killed herself? He felt like an electrical shock had just run through his body. Starsky had said she was dead, Hutch had just assumed that she had been murdered. He hadn’t questioned his partner since he had been so upset. Hutch knew very little about Dana. He had only met her once, shortly before all his troubles had started. “I’m very sorry about Dana.” Hutch said managing to get out through his shock.
“Yeah, sure you are,” he spat out. “You treated her like trash, that partner of yours was more important than the woman that loved him. She didn’t want to live without you, so she killed herself.”
“Listen, I’m telling you the truth, I am not, David Starsky.” Hutch told him again. But Hutch was getting the feeling that even if he believed that he wasn’t Starsky, he wouldn’t care much. He seemed to almost blame Hutch for Dana’s love life also.
“I loved her; we were a month away from being married when she met you. She decided she would rather have you than me. I wasn’t okay with that, but it was what Dana wanted, so I let her go. After that partner of yours went to jail, you forgot about her like yesterday’s leftovers and she came crying back to me. I took her in and comforted her broken heart. Then when he went away, you were back in her life only to dump her again when he came back to town. You were just using her!”
“Listen, uh…” Hutch began.
“Darrel, names Darrel, don’t mind telling you because you won’t be around to turn me in.” Darrel’s eyes turned hard and cold. “She killed herself because of you Starsky, so you don’t deserve to live.”
“Maybe she was only crying out for help and she wasn’t found in time.” Hutch suggested, thinking of Starsky saving him with only minutes to spare.
This only enraged Darrel further, “The only help that she needed was for you not to treat her like dirt.”
“Darrel, listen, I know what you are going through,” Hutch begin, he felt like his best bet was to play along with the angry ex-boyfriend. “My partner, Hutch, tried to kill himself. I found him just in time.”
At first Darrel’s face softened, then he scowled, “Too bad you weren’t there for Dana like that, she would still be alive. What, are you two queer for each other?”
“Darrel, we are police officers, we have been partners for many years. Hutch is like my brother.” Hutch tried to explain.
“Well that doesn’t bring my Dana back, now does it?
“No, nothing can do that. Killing me won’t bring Dana back.” Hutch said.
“But it sure will make me feel one hell of a lot better.” Darrel said advancing on Hutch.



                                                                      ~CHAPTER EIGHT~

Starsky paced back and forth in front of Dobey’s desk. “Cap, it’s been three hours and nothing from Hutch. I have been to his apartment, the house and every convenience store in between each of those. If he is out for a walk, then it’s one hell of a walk.”
Dobey picked up his phone. “I think it’s time for an all points.”
Starsky nodded, but didn’t stop his pacing. “I don’t know where to look.”
“Hutchinson might just show up.” Dobey said but he didn’t believe that would happen, not after the length of time that had passed.
There was a knock on Dobey’s officer door, Dobey called out a gruff come in. When the door opened it was Sam standing in the door way. “Any luck?”
“No, and I have run out of places too look. I think somebody has taken him, that is the only possibility left. He would have turned up or called me by now.”
Sam’s brow knitted for a moment then he asked. “If Hutch was taken, what makes you think he was the intended target and not you? After all, he was in your apartment and you weren’t there correct?”
Starsky’s mouth fell open; it hadn’t occurred to him that he might have been the target. “It would make sense. Hutch has been off the streets for two years.”
“Have you had any unusual cases lately?” Sam questioned.
Starsky shrugged, “Only thing is my ex-girl friend’s death, but it wasn’t even my case.”
“How did she die?” Sam asked.
“Suicide, identical to the way Hutch tried it.” Starsky closed his eyes as his minds eye saw Dana in the bath tub.
“Does Hutch know this?”
Starsky shook his head, “He thinks she was murdered, I kind of talked around how she died, I didn’t want him to know. She also left me a note saying that maybe now I would pay attention to her. It’s all very complicated.”
“Sounds like it. Why don’t I buy you a cup of coffee and tell me the whole thing.” Sam suggested.
Starsky looked at Dobey who nodded in agreement with the doctor. “I’ll see if anyone has had any luck tracking down some relatives. At least it’s a place to start.” As Starsky and Sam left, Dobey picked up the phone. He spoke for a few minutes then said, “Have that file send up there ASAP.”

“Come on, Starsky, get up,” Darrel grabbed Hutch by the front of his shirt, dragging the officer to his feet. “I don’t see why we should prolong this any longer do you?”
“Wait,” Hutch tried to stall, “Do you really think Dana would want you to do this?”
“Avenge her death? Hell YES!” Darrel shoved Hutch toward the bath room. “You broke her heart; you think she is going to care what I do to you?”
“What are you planning to do?” Hutch asked as Darrel shoved him into the bathroom.
“You are going to die like Dana did!” Darrel shouted. “I was the one that found her but it was too late. I called the cops and high tailed it out of there. And now you are going to pay the price for not loving her enough and stopping her from loving me.”

Starsky sat staring into a cold cup of coffee. “This is my fault.” Starsky said.
“Why are you so willing to take on the woes of the world my friend?” Sam asked. “How could this possibly be your fault?”
“I shouldn’t have left him at the apartment by himself.”
“David, Ken is not a child; he can take care of himself.”
“Doesn’t look like he did a very good job of it this time.” Starsky said, “If I had been there, nobody would have gotten the drop on us.”
“You have no way of knowing that, you might both have been taken.”
“At least we would be together and I would know he was alright.” Starsky said sullenly. “If I had just taken that rookie two months ago that Cap wanted me to take on, things would have been different. Hutch wouldn’t have felt he needed to come back to be with me.”

Starsky’s mind wandered back to the day that Dobey called him into this office. “Starsky, I have a rookie I would like you to take under your wing and show the ropes.”
He sighed, “Cap, I’m not into baby sitting and you know it. Besides, Hutch is back and I want to be available for him if he needs me.”
“She is something else, number one in her graduating class at the academy. She is tough; I think you would enjoy teaching her.”
“Her, uh? Starsky grunted. “You wouldn’t be trying to get my mind off things would ya, Cap?”
“Starsky! This is a legit offer, she is going to make an outstanding officer and I think you are the right man for the job.” Dobey was losing his patience with Starsky.
“Sorry, Cap, just bad timing, you know if Hutch wasn’t back I would do it in a minute.”
Dobey shook his head knowing better, Starsky has resisted the idea of a new partner for the last two years. “Alright, Starsky, you win.” Dobey closed the file folder on the young woman named Susan Carlston and laid it on his desk. “I’ll see if Cal Simpson will take her on.”

“Dave?” Sam poked the detective sitting next to him.
“Sorry, Sam,” Starsky said getting up. He dumped the cup of coffee in the trash receptacle, Sam followed suit with his sandwich wrapper.
“Is there anything we can do?” Sam asked. He wasn’t one for sitting around doing nothing and he knew Starsky was the same way.
“We could go down to the morgue, I’m pretty sure the officers at the scene said she didn’t have anything with her, but we could still check.” Starsky suggested. “She never talked about any family. I guess I will claim the body if nobody else has and make sure she gets a decent burial.”
When the two men reached the morgue, Jerry sat at his desk just finishing up the last of the paper work on the bodies that had been brought in from a gun fight overnight. “Starsky!” Jerry greeted him. “What brings you down here?”
“A girl that was brought in about a week and half ago, I was wondering if anybody claimed her body.”
“What’s the name?”
“Dana McBain.”
“Oh yeah, the suicide,” Jerry said matter of factly, but the word suicide cut Starsky to he core.
“Her body was claimed the day after she was brought in. Since there was no foul play she was released.”
“Claimed? By whom?” Starsky wanted to know.
“Let me see,” Jerry said getting up from his desk and going to a large filing cabinet. He rifled though it for a few minutes then pulled out a thin file on Dana. There had been no autopsy, she would be held until the next of kin could be notified. “Okay, humm, says here a Darrel Sanders came in for her.”
“Name doesn’t ring a bell,” Starsky said, he didn’t remember her talking about anybody in her life.”
“Does it say what relationship he was to her?”
Jerry shook his head, “Don’t much care as long as we can get the bodies out of here so the tax payers aren’t burdened with the cost.”
“Do you remember what he looked like?” Starsky asked.
“Sorry, can’t help you there; he came in on my off day.”
“How about an address?”
“Sorry, no address, there is a phone number though.” Jerry said as he scribbled it down for the detective.
“I can’t believe you don’t have any information on this guy.” Starsky said taking the scrap of paper the man offered him.
“Like I said, since there was no foul play, we don’t worry about the details.”
“Thanks a lot, Jerry.”
As Starsky and Sam rode the elevator from the basement Sam asked. “Do you think this guy has something to do with Hutch disappearing?”
“Probably not, but since Dana’s death was the last thing that happened out the ordinary, I thought I would start there.” Starsky said. “I have been wracking my brain trying to think of any open cases I have where somebody might come after me. But there are none, I have no court cases pending, nothing.”
“What about somebody that just got out of prison?”
“That is always a possibility but I would think whoever took Hutch would know it wasn’t me.”
“Unless, they didn’t know what either of you looked like.” Sam suggested.
“And that brings us back to this guy.” Starsky held up the paper. “I’ll run him through the system and see what we come up with.”

A cold chill ran though Hutch’s body, ‘die like Dana did’?’ Just how did Dana commit suicide Hutch wondered? But he had a good idea when he spied a pack of razor blades lying on the sink in the bath room. He wondered if Starsky had shared with Dana about his attempt on his own life. The wondering was over as Darrel pulled the detective into the bathroom; he pushed Hutch into a sitting position on the floor then turned on the hot water in the bath tub.
If Hutch’s hands hadn’t been duct taped behind his back, he would have been able to fight, but Hutch sat helpless as the tub quickly filled. His only chance would come when his captor took the tape from his wrists, which he would have to do if he was planning on killing him the way he was guessing Dana died.
Hutch decided to try one more time to talk Darrel out of what he was about to do. “Darrel, listen, I understand how up set you are. But this isn’t the answer. You will go to jail for the rest of your life.”
“Do you think I care,” Darrel snarled at Hutch as he picked up the pack of razor blades. “Dana was the only one I ever cared about and now that she is gone, I have nothing to live for.”
Hutch knew that he had no words that would convince Darrel to release him. He could only pray that Starsky would figure it out and find him in time. Hutch closed his eyes as the sound of the running water took him back to the night that he had tried to kill himself. He found it hard to believe that he had been so without hope, that he had actually slit his own wrists, and now all he wanted to do was live.


                                                                            ~CHAPTER NINE~


Dobey was writing something down on a slip of paper when Starsky and Sam appeared in his doorway. “There you are,” he exclaimed upon seeing them. He held out the paper to Starsky. “This is Dana McBain’s address. I couldn’t find anything out about her family.”
Starsky accepted the paper, “How about a Darrel Sanders?”
Dobey shook his head.
“He apparently picked up Dana’s body.” Starsky said reading the address; it was a fancy high rise building close to downtown. “Jerry said he was her boyfriend.”
“Did you know she had a boyfriend?” Dobey questioned.
Starsky shook his head no, then turned to Sam. “You want to go with me?”
“Sure, if it’s alright.”
“You might have to sweet talk your way in,” Dobey said.
“No problem there, Cap,” Starsky winked at his captain.
When they arrived at the high rise Sam commented, “Your girl friend did well for her self.”
“I guess she kept her job at the law office.” Starsky said as he parked. They got out of the car and headed toward the door, a door man stopped them before they could enter the building.
“Excuse me gentlemen but you need to be announced before you can enter.” The door man said holding up a white gloved hand.
“We are here to see Dana McBain,” Starsky said as he tried to shoulder past the man.
“I’m sorry to inform you sir but Miss McBain died.”
“I know that,” Starsky said as he pulled his badge out of his pocket and showed it to the man. “I’m here to investigate.”
“As I understand it, this isn’t a police matter, the young woman killed herself.”
“Listen, I need to get into her apartment,” Starsky snapped.
Sam put his hand on Starsky’s arm, “I’m sorry, my son is rather upset. Miss McBain was his girlfriend and there are a few things he would like to get out of her apartment to remember her by.” Sam smiled at the door man, and then he slipped him a twenty dollar bill. “If you could just see your way clear to let us have, oh say thirty minutes in the apartment, we will be on our way.”
The man looked at the folded twenty in his palm, then looked at Starsky, who was clearly agitated, “Alright, thirty minutes no more.”
“Thank you, this means a lot to my son.” Sam said as the door man held open the door for them to enter.
When they were out of ear shot, Sam said to Starsky, “That is your idea of sweet talk?”
Starsky shrugged, “I don’t have time for that crap. But, hey, you did great, you want a job?”
Sam chuckled, “No, son, lets go see what we can find.”
Dana’s apartment was on the 9th floor, apartment 910. The two men stood looking at the door. Starsky pulled a credit card from his wallet and began to jimmy the door. “I just about got it.”
“Now, I’m breaking and entering,” Sam grinned.
The door swung open and Starsky stood up, “After you.”
Sam entered the dim apartment followed by Starsky. They both looked around for a light switch; Starsky found a lamp and flipped it on. The apartment was expensively decorated, nothing like the place Dana had while they were dating. Her place had been nice, but nothing like this; it looked as if she had spent her entire savings and then some on the furnishings.
Starsky commented on that fact to Sam. “She might have been planning to kill herself for sometime and decided to live like a queen before she died.” Sam guessed at Dana’s reasoning for the lavish contents of her apartment.
“It doesn’t look like anything has been touched; I wonder how long they plan on leaving this place like this?” Starsky asked as he looked around.
“She is probably paid up though the end of the month and like the police, the management is trying to find relatives to claim all this stuff.
“I wonder if there is any thing here that will lead us to the whereabouts of this Darrel Sanders,” Starsky said opening a drawer in a desk.
Sam picked up a framed photograph and held it out for Starsky to see, it was of himself and Dana, both of them were smiling and holding hands. “Nice looking girl.”
Starsky took the photo and ran his fingers over the glass, “Yeah, she was a sweetheart but she just didn’t understand the relationship between Hutch and me. Things were great between us when he wasn’t in the picture, but the moment he came home, she got insanely jealous. If it hadn’t been for that, I think she could have been the one I spent the rest of my life with.”
“Dave, I think there were things about this woman you didn’t know. Stable people aren’t that jealous, nor do they kill themselves to get back at somebody. And didn’t you find it odd that she never talked about family?”
Starsky shrugged, “I guess I didn’t much care. She was there when I needed somebody to lean on. I guess that was selfish on my part.”
“But apparently she thrived on it.”
“I guess we will never know the whole story.” Starsky said as he laid the photo down on the desk.

The tub was full with steaming hot water, Hutch struggled against the duct tape but it was no use. He watched as Darrel pulled a pocket knife from his pocket and came toward him. “Roll over,” Darrel commanded.
Hutch knew this was his only chance of escape; he did as he was told and rolled so that Darrel could cut the tape from his wrists. Hutch started to lunge at the man, but in one swift motion Darrel had cut the tape and painfully grasped both of Hutch’s wrists in his meaty hand. Hutch tried to twist himself free but Darrel hung onto his wrists as the joints popped. Hutch stopped moving, knowing that if he kept struggling he would break both of his wrists, and then he would have no chance of getting away.
Darrel hauled the detective to his feet, then released his arms and slammed Hutch against the wall of the bathroom with his open palm. Hutch kicked the man in the shins which only made Darrel angrier and he pressed harder on Hutch’s chest, making it hard for him to breath. “A fighter, I like that.” Darrel gave Hutch an evil grin. “Into the tub, buddy boy.”
“You have got to be kidding.” Hutch gasped in his face. “If you think I’m getting in that tub under my own power you are nuts. If you want me in there, then you are going to have to put me in.”
“No problem,” Darrel grinned again as he picked up Hutch like a rag doll. Hutch beat on the man’s back with his fists but it was like hitting concrete, Darrel didn’t even flinch as Hutch’s fists pounded into him. He unceremoniously dumped Hutch into the scalding hot water, the water poured over the edge of the tub soaking Darrel’s legs and flooding the floor.
Hutch’s head hit the edge of the tub as he was being dump in, it didn’t knock the detective out but he did go lightheaded for a moment. Hutch could feel the water searing his skin but he couldn’t lift himself out of the tub. Darrel held him down with one hand as he reached for the blades with the other.
Darrel grabbed one of Hutch’s wrists, Hutch was trying to hit him with his other hand but Darrel was too quick for him and dodged his swing every time. Hutch wasn’t able to get any leverage lying on his back in the tub. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to drown you, then slit your wrists,” He warned.
Darrel slammed Hutch’s wrist down on the edge of the tub and as he started to make a cut with the razor blade he noticed the scars that were already there. Shock registered on Darrel’s face and he eased up on Hutch’s wrist, that was all Hutch needed as he pushed his feet against the end of the tub causing him to sit up suddenly. The action caught Darrel off balance sending him sprawling to the bathroom floor. Hutch leapt from the tub; but as he tried to hurtle the man on the floor, Darrel caught his left foot, sending Hutch crashing to the floor in the hall.

“Hey, I think I found something,” Sam called from the bedroom. When Starsky entered the room Sam was holding a second picture from. It was Dana with a very large, very well built man; he had a handsome face and perfectly groomed hair. “Do you think this could be the mysterious boyfriend?”
Starsky took the photo, “Could be.” He studied the photo for a few moments. “The guy doesn’t look familiar to me.” Starsky took the photo from the frame and slipped it into his pocket. Then he pulled the drawer of the bedside table open and began going through its contents. Finding an address book, he handed it to Sam. “See if there is anything in this.”
Sam accepted the book and thumbed through it as Starsky continued rifling through the drawer. He found a scrap of paper with an address on it, “I found an address but there is no name on it.”
The name Darrel jumped out of the address book at Sam. “I have a phone number of this Darrel guy.”
“I wonder if it’s the same one that he gave at the morgue.” Starsky said picking up the phone sitting on top of the night stand.
“Dobey.”
“Cap, this is Starsky, did you run that phone number I gave you for Darrel Sanders?”
“Yeah, it was some motel on the outskirts of town. I sent a squad out there to check it out.” Dobey answered.
“What was that number?” Starsky asked. As Dobey read the numbers off, Starsky checked it against the number that Sam had found. “Different number.”
“I don’t follow,” Dobey said confessed.
“We got into Dana’s apartment. Sam found a number for Darrel in her address book but it’s different from the one you ran.”
“Give me that one and I’ll track it down.” Dobey said picking up a pen to record the number.
“We are getting ready to leave here,” Starsky informed his captain. “Give me the name of the motel. We will ride out there and check it out, unless you get us some info on this new number first.”
Dobey gave Starsky the name of the motel and the room number then promised to radio them the moment he got any information on the new number.


                                                                                    ~CHAPTER TEN~


Mary Jacobson was just finishing up her lunch when she heard a dripping noise coming from her bathroom. Thinking she had left the water running the elderly woman traipsed down the thread bare carpeting to the bathroom. When she opened the door she was horrified to see water dripping from the ceiling. “HEY,” Mary yelled loudly as she looked up at the ceiling. “Your tub is running over!”
She went into the living room and picked up the receiver of her telephone and dialed a number but the phone on the other end rang with no answer. “Damn super,” Mary swore as she slammed the receiver back into its cradle. She contemplated climbing the stairs to the second floor but her arthritis was acting up and she didn’t much feel like making that painful trip so she flopped down on the worn, faded couch. She pulled the phone into her lap and dialed the number again; she would keep calling until that lazy super answered.

Hutch laid on the floor for a few moments, stunned, then scrambled to his feet kicking at Darrel’s hands. He made it as far as the living room when he heard the distinctive click of a gun being cocked. He turned to see Darrel standing a few feet from him pointing a gun in his direction.
“So, you are Hutch.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.
“I tried to tell you.” Hutch was breathing hard as the fall had knocked the wind out of him and he was trying to catch his breath for the next round. He decided he would rather be shot than let Darrel slit his wrists. He was not going to let Starsky find him that way again, even if it wasn’t self inflicted.
“It’s as much your fault that Dana is dead as it is Starsky’s.”
“Darrel you aren’t thinking clearly, you need some help,” Hutch was surveying the room desperately trying to think of something he could do to escape. “I know a very good doctor; he has helped me a lot.”
The sound that came from Darrel’s throat was pure primal and nearly curdled Hutch’s blood to hear it. He almost felt sorry for the man holding the gun and had to wonder if this was what Starsky felt when he first found him, not knowing if he was dead or alive.
“Shut up, shut up,” Darrel screamed, “Nobody can help me, NOBODY.”
It was clear that the man was becoming even more unhinged, so Hutch kept talking, he figured one of two things would happen, Darrel would have a complete break down or he would shoot at him. Hutch’s hope was that he was so distraught that he would miss.
“Come on, Darrel, let me help you. The courts will go easy on you. You haven’t hurt me…yet. I’ll speak up for you; say that you willingly let me go. But you have to let me call my partner.”
The moment the words partner came out of his mouth Hutch knew that he had made a mistake. “STARSKY? You want to call Starsky?” Darrel hurled the words across the room at Hutch.

Starsky and Sam were halfway to the motel when a call came from Dobey, “What have you got, Cap?” Starsky said into the microphone.
“Darrel is not at the motel; apparently he hasn’t been there for several weeks.” Dobey relayed. “But I did get a hit on the other phone number you gave me. It’s a low income apartment complex.” Dobey gave Starsky the address, Sam scribbled it down.
“Got it, Cap, and we are on our way.”
“I’ll send back up.” Dobey said.
“You tell them to wait until I get there.” Starsky said.
“Will do,” Dobey answered.
“How far are we from the apartment?” Sam asked.
“Probably about ten minutes.”
“I have a really bad feeling about this.”
“You and me both, Sam.” Starsky said as he made a U-Turn and headed toward where he hoped they would find Hutch.
As they drove up two patrol cars pulled into next to them. “Starsky,” Andy Masters addressed the detective. “Do you think Hutch is in there?”
“Only one way to find out,” Starsky said. “Wait here.”
As he walked toward the building an elderly woman in a dingy bathroom and worn slippers came out of her apartment. “I didn’t call the cops but you will do.” She grabbed Starsky’s arm with a gnarled hand and pulled him to her apartment.
“Ma’am, I’m here on police business.”
The woman ignored Starsky, set on showing him the mess in her bathroom. “Just look at that,” She said pointing to the ceiling where water was still dripping. “I have tried calling the super but the lazy ass won’t answer the phone.”
“Ma’am, I can’t do anything about this right now.” Starsky said trying to execrate himself from her claw like grip. Then playing a hunch, he pulled the photo of Dana and the man from his pocket. “Have you ever seen this man?”
The old woman turned loose of Starsky’s arm and took the photo from him. She squinted at the photo for a minute and nodded. “Yes, yes, I have seen them before. But he sure looks a whole lot different now.”
“Them? You have seen the woman too.”
“Yes, the beginning of the week, they had some kind of argument and she slammed the door so hard when she left, she knocked a picture clean off the wall.” The woman pointed to the painting of a little white dog next to her door. “My watch dog,” She chuckled.
Starsky smiled at her trying to be patient. “So, he lives here?”
“Sure, where the hell do you think all that water is coming from? There has been nothing but trouble since the day he moved in.”
“Thank you, ma’am, and I’ll get your water problem solved, I promise.” Starsky said patting her on the shoulder. “But you have to do something for me.”
“Sure, anything if you are getting that leak fixed.”
“Stay in your apartment and lock the door. Don’t come out until a police officer or I come and tell you it’s safe, alright?”
“S-sure,” Mary agreed, then she whispered, “What did he do?”
“Please, just do what I’m asking.”
“Okay, okay, but don’t forget your promise.”
“I won’t.” Starsky left the apartment and stopped outside, waiting for the old woman to lock the door, when he didn’t hear the lock he called, “Lock this door.” He heard a sigh from inside and the lock turn. Satisfied that she would be safe, Starsky drew his gun and mounted the steps to the second floor.
Standing in the hall outside the apartment, Starsky heard his name being shouted. Without a second thought Starsky kicked the door down and rushed into the apartment. Darrel was standing in the middle of the living room holding a gun which he swung in Starsky’s direction. “Drop the gun,” Starsky ordered. But the man held his ground.
“Starsky,” Hutch called out to his friend. He had never been so happy to see anyone in his whole life but he knew they weren’t out of danger yet. Hutch turned his attention back to Darrel. “Come on man, put the gun down, we don’t want to hurt you.”
Darrel’s gaze went back and forth between the two detectives. “Now, I have you both,” he growled. “You killed my Dana.”
“I haven’t seen Dana in months,” Starsky said, “But you saw her earlier this week, you two had an argument.”
The man’s face crumbled but he didn’t lower the gun. “That is none of your business.”
“What did you do to her?” Starsky asked going with a gut feeling.
“I-I didn’t do anything to her.” Darrel stammered as he backed away.
“You killed her and made it look like suicide didn’t you?” Starsky stepped toward the man. “She told you enough about Hutch and me that you thought you would stage her suicide, write a note making it sound like she did it because of me.”
Hutch stood rooted in place watching Starsky and Darrel, wondering how Starsky figured it out. It was clear that he was right by the look on Darrel’s face.
Darrel was taking in big gulps of air and was shaking his head, “I didn’t mean too, she refused to come back to me. She wanted me to leave her alone…I couldn’t do that…I loved her.” Suddenly Darrel’s whole demeanor changed, his face became contorted with anger. “It’s your fault.” He yelled and lunged at Starsky, catching him low; both of the men went sprawling to the floor. Starsky’s gun flew out of his hand and slid across the floor landing near Hutch’s feet.
Hutch grabbed for the gun as Darrel managed to get on top of Starsky. He straddled him pointing his gun in Starsky’s face. “Put… it… down.” Hutch yelled at Darrel as he held Starsky’s gun in his shaking hands. “Darrel, don’t make me shoot you.”
Darrel had no intentions of putting down his weapon, he slowly depressed the trigger as he stared into Starsky face, “I want to watch you die.”
The shot echoed in the tiny apartment, Darrel toppled from Starsky’s prone body; Starsky turned his head to see Hutch lowering the gun he had just fired.
Within moments the apartment was swarming with officers and paramedics, Hutch walked over to where his partner lay on the floor and held his hand out. Starsky grasped it and Hutch pulled him to his feet, they embraced quickly, then Hutch handed Starsky his gun back. “I think you lost something.”
Starsky grinned at Hutch as he took his gun from Hutch’s shaking hand. “Thanks, buddy.”
“Are you two alright?” Sam had just appeared in the doorway amongst the hubbub.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Hutch answered for the both of them. Then he looked over at the paramedics that were working on the man he had just shot. “How is he?”
“I think he will make it,” one of the men answered.
Hutch was relieved; he hadn’t wanted to kill the man, only to stop him from killing Starsky. “Let’s get out of here.”
Somebody threw a blanket over Hutch’s shoulders as they emerged from the apartment building. He was shaking but he wasn’t sure if it was because he was soaking wet or because he had finally fired a gun and hit his intended target.
“I think we need to take you to the hospital just to have you checked out,” Starsky suggested.
Surprisingly Hutch agreed, he put his hand to the back of his head were a good size knot had risen. “I got my head slammed pretty hard on the tub, I could have a concussion.”
“What the hell was he trying to do to you?” Starsky asked concerned for his friend.
“He was planning on killing me the same way I almost died.” Hutch looked over at Starsky, “He thought I was you. He dumped me in a tub of hot water and was going to slit my wrists until he saw the scars. Darrel suddenly realized I was telling him the truth. I don’t know what he was going to do next but it threw him off guard enough that I was able to get away from him.”
“We might have been too late if you hadn’t,” Starsky said.
“I think we need to have Dana’s body exhumed and find out how she really died. No wonder he was in such a big hurry to pick up her body.” Hutch said as he got into the front seat of the Torino.
“Let’s get you to the hospital; we can take care of the rest of this later.” Starsky said as he climbed behind the wheel.


                                                                       ~CHAPTER ELEVEN~


“Perfect score!” Starsky exclaimed after examining Hutch’s target.
Hutch grinned at his partner as he unloaded his gun of the live rounds that remained. “It’s about time.”
“Sam said you would get it,” Starsky took the target to the certifier who signed off on the okay for Hutch to get his gun back and head back to the streets.
“I’m sure going to miss all that paperwork and phone answering. I was really starting to like it.” Hutch had a dead pan look on his face.
Starsky hiked up one eyebrow as he looked at his partner. “You are kidding, right?”
Hutch shook his head, “What do you think dummy?”
Starsky laughed, “I can’t wait to have you back out there with me.”
Starsky, carrying Hutch’s gun, and Hutch with his certificate made their way to Dobey’s office. Until Dobey had the certificate and gave his okay, Hutch still could not carry his firearm. Starsky tapped on Dobey’s office door then opened it.
Dobey looked up from the paperwork he was doing and scowled at being interrupted, but his scowl quickly turned to a large grin when Hutch presented him the paper he had in his hand.
The captain got to his feet and extended his hand to Hutch,
“Congratulations, Hutchinson, good to have you back.” Dobey said.
“Thanks, Cap, it’s great to be back…really back.”
“You up for this?” Dobey asked as he sat back down. “Do you want to start out slow?”
Hutch shook his head no, “If it gets too much I’ll let you and Starsk know.”
“You’ve got a deal,” Dobey added his signature to the certificate the opened his desk drawer and slid Hutch’s badge toward him. “Now get out of my office.”
Starsky handed Hutch his magnum as they left the captain’s office. “Welcome back, buddy. So what do you want to do to celebrate?”
“How about a nice quiet evening at home?” Hutch suggested as he took his gun.
“After all this, you want to go home and put your feet up?” Starsky asked, “You, my friend, are getting old.”
Hutch laughed as he pulled his shoulder holster out of his desk drawer. He slipped his jacket off and put on the holster, then slipped his gun in. Hutch put his jacket back on and shrugged his shoulders a few times. “Feels funny.”
“It’s been a long time; you will get used to it.” Starsky smiled at his partner.
“Hey, did you ever find out anything on Dana’s family?” Hutch asked changing the subject.
“Darrel finally gave an address of some distant relative,” Starsky said. “He will be going away for the rest of his life. The autopsy showed that Dana was strangled.”
“I guess that makes you feel better, uh?” Hutch said, “Knowing she didn’t kill herself because of you.”
“I still feel like it happened because of me.” Starsky frowned. “I guess we just aren’t meant to have women in our lives.”
“It will take a really special woman to put up with us.” Hutch gave one last wiggle trying to get use to the bulk under his coat.
As they were about to leave a young girl about sixteen or so came in the door, she stopped in front of the two detectives and asked, “Can you help me? I’m looking for Detective Hutchinson.”
“I’m Detective Hutchinson” Hutch said, surprised that she was looking for him. She was slender and tall with bright blue eyes and golden brown hair that hung half way down her back.
“I’m Sara Mayfair.”
Hutch felt like somebody dropped a bomb in his lap. Sara Mayfair was one of the children he rescued from the warehouse where the porn movies with minors were being made. She was also the sister of Curtis Mayfair, the college student who had brainwashed him.
Sara had been in a mental facility for nearly a year before she recovered enough from the horrors of being kidnapped to go home. The death of her brother hadn’t help with her recovery but she finally made it back and was a sophomore in high school. She should have been a junior but she could only make up so much of the schooling she had missed.
Hutch held out his hand to the young woman but instead of taking his hand she threw her arms around him. “Detective Hutchinson, thank you so much, you saved my life.”
At first he was startled then Hutch put his arms around the girl and hugged her to him. “I’m glad you are doing alright.”
She smiled up at him. “It took me a long time to get here.”
“I know what you mean,” Hutch said returning her smile.
She released Hutch and took a step back, her eyes dropped to the floor as she said, “I’m also sorry for what my brother did you to.”
“Honey, that wasn’t your fault.” Hutch said softly.
“In a way it was. If I hadn’t been a stupid little kid and gone with that man, none of this would have happened.” Sara said with a catch in her voice.
Hutch reached forward and hooked a finger under Sara’s chin and brought her head up until her eyes met his. “Sara, it was not your fault.”
The girl only shrugged but the smile returned to her face. “I’m glad that you are alright too.

Starsky noticed Hutch’s step was a little lighter as they headed for the car and he was humming to himself, something Starsky hadn’t heard for along time. “That was nice of Sara to come and talk to you.”
“Yeah,” Hutch smiled. “It is good to know that she is really going to be alright.”
“Just like you are really going to be alright.” Starsky said as he unlocked the car door so Hutch could get in.
“Yeah, I guess I will be.” Hutch answered.
“Are you sure you don’t want to hit the town tonight, you got one more thing to celebrate.”
“No,” Hutch answered, “I would like to head home maybe unpack some of those boxes, I think they are multiplying.”
“Well we do have two sets of everything. Maybe we should put some of it in storage. We won’t be living together forever and we might need some of that stuff someday. “
“Sounds good,” Hutch said but he was suddenly distracted.
Starsky noticed the change instantly. “What’s wrong, you aren’t having second thoughts of us moving in together are you?”
Hutch shook his head and leaned over to retrieve the microphone. “This is Zebra Three, I was wondering if you could get me an address of a woman named Ellen Brooks.”
Starsky’s mouth fell open, “No, Hutch, this isn’t a good idea.”
“This is something I have to do Starsk; I have to talk to Sal Brooks’ widow. That is the least I can do. If Sara was brave enough to come talk to me, then I can talk to Ellen Brooks.”
Starsky sighed but nodded at his partner in understanding just as the radio came alive and gave Hutch the info he wanted. Starsky made a turn in the opposite direction of their house.
“Where are you going?” Hutch asked.
“To take you to see Ellen Brooks.”
“You don’t have to do that, buddy. I can go tomorrow.”
“No, we are going to do this together. I’ll wait in the car but you aren’t going alone.”
“Alright,” Hutch said sounding like he was giving in to his partner’s wishes but he was grateful that Starsky would be there, even if he was out in the car.
Ten minutes later they pulled up in front of a modest red brick house. Hutch made his way up the sidewalk and knocked on the door. He stood there for several minutes and was about to leave when the door opened and Ellen Brooks stood in front of him; she was much grayer than he remembered.
“Mrs. Brooks, I’m Ken Hutchinson.”
“I know who you are,” Her voice was cold. “What do you want?”
“I just wanted to say how sorry I am.”
“Sorry can’t bring my Sal back.” Mrs. Brooks said, her eyes as cold as her voice.
“I know that Mrs. Brooks but I still wanted you to know that I will live everyday of my life with what happened.” Hutch said. Ellen Brooks didn’t respond to the detective she merely closed the door. Hutch stood staring at the brown wooden door for a moment, then turned and went down the sidewalk to the car.
As he got in Starsky asked, “How did it go?”
“She closed the door in my face when I apologized.”
Starsky craned his neck around Hutch in the passenger seat to look at the house; he could see a face peering out the living room window at them. “Are you okay?”
“Surprisingly, yeah, I am.” Hutch answered. “I didn’t expect her to forgive me but at least I told her how sorry I was.”
“As long as you are okay with this.” Starsky said starting up the car. He glanced once more at the window but the face was gone.

When they arrived at their new house they were met with boxes still stacked around the living room. “I guess you are right,” Starsky admitted. “We do need to get this place in some sort of living order don’t we?”
“I think it’s time, we have been here for two weeks and it looks like we moved in yesterday, can’t bring a lady home to this mess.”
“Okay, we will tackle this tonight, but tomorrow night I’m taking you out on the town.”
“You got it, Starsk,” Hutch grinned at his partner. Then he went into the bathroom and closed the door. Hutch stared at his reflection for a long time and suddenly he knew that the man in the mirror was going to be alright.


                                                                           ************


She stroked the scars on Hutch’s left wrist gently; they were lying on the bed as he told her the whole story. When he was done Hutch said to Susan, “I can’t believe you never asked me about my scars.”
Susan shrugged, “I knew you would tell me about them when you were ready.”
“I’ve never told anybody before.” Hutch said smoothing her hair from her face. “Of course Starsky knows he was there, but nobody else knows all the details.”
“Thank you for trusting me.” She said as she softly kissed his lips.
Hutch kissed her back, glad that he had come through the ordeal, it had been a long haul but it had been worth it.


                                                                                                               ~The End~









This story is dedicated to Tonya