| Is There in Truth, No Justice? |
| He noticed the lines around his eyes, lines that hadn't been there before. He couldn't believe how old he looked. The mirror always told the truth, though, always showed him more than he wanted to see. Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the tiredest cop of all? He laughed bitterly at his own joke. Sleeping Beauty, you're not. He had believed in his life and his job as a cop. He had spent so many years searching for a career that was meaningful. Life wasn't just about taking; it was about giving, too. He knew he was just one of many, but what he was doing mattered. Every time someone was kidnapped, or raped, or murdered, he was needed. The innocent needed him, and the guilty feared him. He caught them, the courts prosecuted them, and hopefully, the judge sentenced them. It was all in the name of duty. With each horrifying case, he kept getting older. He only had to look in the mirror to see that. He seemed to have aged 10 years in the last couple of weeks. How many cases had he worked this month? The crime rate kept going up, but the number of available detectives stayed the same. There was never enough hours in the day any more. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a weekend off. He sighed. He knew he wasn't the only tired cop. It was the same everywhere. Detective Sergeant Ken Hutchinson walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He dressed in a pair of white boxer shorts, brown corduroy pants and a tan long-sleeved shirt then slipped his shoulder holster over his shirt. He pawed through a dresser drawer until he found a clean pair of socks, and sat down on the bed to put them on. As he slipped his feet into the tan loafers he kicked off the night before, he shook his head sadly. Even a simple task like getting dressed was almost too much for him. Why was he suddenly so damned tired? He went back into the bathroom to comb his hair. I really should get a haircut. Maybe the moustache needs to go, too. He threw the comb down on the vanity. What does it matter? Does anything matter any more, really? He thought back over the last year. He could still hear the sound of metal scraping against metal as the police cruiser pulled out and sped toward his partner. The sound of the machine gun was like a dozen firecrackers going off all at once. He'd screamed at Starsky to get down, but it was too late. Gunther's men had already achieved their goal. Starsky was down, and damned near out for good. Although he should have died, and did die for a few minutes, a miracle brought him back from the brink. Starsky lived, and after months of painful therapy and rehabilitation, the dark haired detective was ready to go back to active duty. Hutch had been with him all the way, cheering him on when he was tempted to give up. Now, as the day grew nearer, all of Hutch's self-doubts were resurfacing. It hadn't been easy. Starsky was out on medical leave, but Hutch couldn't afford to take the year off while he waited for his partner to mend. Dobey knew better than to assign a new partner as a replacement for Starsky, so he did the next best thing. Hutch was teamed with new detectives, training them for a period of eight weeks. The new men would reap the benefits of having a seasoned partner, but would be rotated safely away from the blond's mercurial temper. Hutch could endure a new partner for only a short time, then the frustration at not having his real partner would become intolerable and he would explode, venting his anger at whoever was unfortunate enough to be close by. Hutch shrugged off his depression and reached for the phone. He had to choose his words carefully, and his tone of voice. Starsky could see through the telephone lines, into his eyes and deep into his soul. If Starsky saw the darkness that was threatening to swallow his partner, he would be on the blond's doorstep in a heartbeat. The voice on the other end was irritatingly cheerful. "Starsky here." "Hey, it's me. How are you this morning?" "Hutch, you just left me eight hours ago. How do you think I am?" "Eight and a half, but who's counting? Did you sleep well?" "Yes, mom. I even remembered to brush my teeth and wash behind my ears before I went to bed." Hutch chuckled in spite of himself. "Well, I would have stayed to tuck you in, but I was afraid the neighbours would talk." "Heaven forbid. So, who are you torturing this week?" "Training, Starsky. I'm training, remember? I am molding raw, inexperienced recruits into experienced detectives, for the good of the community." "God, you sound like an ad for the academy. Who's the unlucky recruit this week?" "Johnson. He's a good kid. He's got a good head on his shoulders." He's not you, Starsky. "That's good. You two gettin' along all right?" "Yeah, I guess." He's a stranger. He's not my partner. "Well, don't be too hard on him. You don't want to scare him off." "I won't, don't worry." Maybe I should. He'd stay alive that way. "Yeah, right. We still on for Huggy's? I'm gettin' cabin fever here." "Yeah, I'll be by as soon as I get off work. I won't be late. Dobey's too smart to assign anything serious to these greenhorns." He could hear the grin in Starsky's voice. "We were greenhorns once, remember? Take it easy on the kid. I'll see ya tonight." "Sure, I'll be there around six." Hutch dropped the receiver on the hook and tapped it lightly. We were greenhorns once? When was that, Starsk? It feels like a million years ago. Hutch put on his black leather jacket to conceal the holster, and looked around the apartment, making sure all the lights were off. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, bracing himself for another day. The only bright spot was the kid, as Starsky called him. Johnson really was one of the brightest new detectives on the force. His instincts were good, and he didn't make the fatal mistake of thinking he knew it all. Plus, he had the energy and strong convictions that came with youth. He was going to jump into the swing of things and knock the heads off of a few snakes. Hutch looked at himself in the rear-view mirror, and smiled grimly. And if he's really lucky, it will be a long time before one of those snakes turns around and bites him. He made it through the day, some how, and said a quick good-bye to Johnson. Briefly, he thought about the evaluation that he would write after Johnson's rotation was over. He hoped Dobey would accept his recommendation that Johnson be paired with another detective permanently, and remain with the 9th Precinct. They were shorthanded, and Johnson looked like the cream of the latest crop. Starsky was raring to go when the brown Ford pulled up in front of his apartment, and jumped into Hutch's car almost before it was completely stopped. His eagerness for a night out was evident when he didn't even gripe about taking Hutch's dilapidated LTD. He grinned as Hutch pulled away from the curb. "Man, am I glad to see you! I swear the walls were startin' to close in on me. I feel like a prisoner out on parole." Hutch reached over and patted his friend on the knee. "I know, buddy. But, it won't be for much longer. You'll be tearing up the streets again before you know it." Starsky sighed. "I guess so. Sittin' around all day was fine as long as I was still healing, but I'm stronger now. This convalescing stuff is for the birds." His face brightened and he turned to face Hutch. "Hey, I go for my last therapy session Monday. Then I get to see the doctor, and he'll tell me when I can go before the board and get certified for active duty. Isn't that great?" Hutch pasted a smile on his face. "Yeah, that's great, Starsk. It's been a hard road, I know, but you're almost there. " Starsky grinned and rubbed his hands together. "I can't wait." Hutch stared at the road ahead. I can. God help me, I can. |
| The Pits was still quiet when they arrived. Most of Huggy's customers were night owls, so the bar wouldn't really start jumping for a few hours yet. Hutch parked the car, and followed his energetic partner inside. Huggy was behind the bar, helping Diane, his senior barmaid, prepare for the busy night ahead. Huggy grinned when he saw them and sauntered over. "Well, if it isn't the dynamic duo! The food is the best, and in a while the joint will be jumping, so what'll you have, fellas?" Starsky plopped down on a barstool. "Hi'ya Hug. I'm as hungry as a bear and rarin' to go, so let the party begin!" Hutch pointed a finger at his partner. "Starsk." "Loosen up, Blintz. I said I'd behave, and I will, but can't I have some fun, too? You gotta stop worrying about me some time. I ain't gonna break." This time, his smile was genuine. "I know you're not. Go ahead, enjoy yourself. You've earned it." Starsky grinned back then turned to the black proprietor. "In that case, I'll have a Huggy's special and a beer. What about you, buddy?" "I'll have the same, Huggy, and no onions, on both." Starsky pouted. "Awww, Hutch." "You heard me, Starsk. You don't want to pay for tonight with a bad case of indigestion, do you?" "No, I guess not. But, I am having the beer. I haven't had to take my pain medication for a long time, so a couple of beers won't hurt." Huggy sat two bottles of beer and two glasses in front of them and lifted his own in a toast. "Here you go amigos. Enjoy." Huggy's brown eyes met Hutch's blue ones. He needs to let his hair down for a change, Blondie. I know, Hug. So, don't rain on his parade, OK? Hutch lifted his own glass, and took a sip. I'll try, Hug, I promise. For a while, it was like old times. They ate, played pool, and talked the night away. The blond detective pushed all thoughts of the future aside, and watched his partner enjoying himself for the first time in months. Maybe it was going to be all right, after all. The night passed too quickly for both men. They went back to Starsky's after closing the Pits, and Hutch collapsed on the couch, too tired to drive home. The next morning, they stopped back by the bar long enough to pick up a picnic basket filled with goodies, and drove to the beach. Starsky had lost a lot of weight after the shooting, so Hutch and Huggy had conspired to put the weight back on the too-thin detective. Huggy had packed the basket with Starsky's favorite foods, toned down a bit for his post-Gunther constitution. He had also included a salad, and grilled chicken for Hutch, as a gentle rebuke of the blond's waning interest in his own physical condition. They spread a blanket under a large tree, and stepped behind the tree to undress. Both men had put on their swim trunks under their clothes, so all they had to do was take off their trousers, shirts, shoes and socks, and lay them on the blanket. They left the basket in the shade of the large Oak and headed for the water. Hutch felt the tension leave his muscles as he swam in the cool water. Then he turned over and floated on his back as he watched Starsky gradually fall into a comfortable rhythm, kicking with his legs, and taking strong strokes with his arms. He fought the impulse to caution Starsky about getting too tired, or too far out in the ocean. That's great, Hutchinson. If you can't watch him swim without panicking, how the Hell are you going to handle him going back on active duty? He resolutely pushed the thought aside, and focused on his friend. He'd cross that particular bridge when he came to it. The day passed without any problems, and ended with a friendly game of chess after dinner. Starsky won, as usual. For once, Hutch was grateful for his friend's constant stream of chatter. It kept Starsky from noticing how preoccupied he was. Saturday night turned into Sunday, and before they knew it, the weekend was over. Hutch wished it could last forever. Now, it was Monday morning and Hutch was arguing with his reflection in the mirror, again. Starsky was excited about today, but Hutch was terrified. He knew what the day would bring and prayed that he could keep his true feelings from Starsky for a while longer. How could he tell Starsky that the one thing his best friend wanted most was the last thing Hutch wanted? You're going to kill him. You know that, don't you? He's fought so hard for this. How can you tell him that you don't want to be a cop any more? There, he'd finally admitted it to himself. The thought of Starsky going back into the gutters and all of the muck made him sick to his stomach. He closed his eyes and caught his breath in a tiny sob. Haven't we been through enough, Starsk? Do we have to go back for another round? Hutch cursed under his breath and turned the bathroom light off with an angry slap. Feeling sorry for himself wasn't getting him anywhere. This mess wasn't going to go away. He stalked out of the apartment and slammed the door behind him. When he got to the station, he took a moment to get his emotions in check. He knew that he'd been hard to live with over the past year, and it wasn't fair to take his anger out on the rest of the department. Hutch pushed all thoughts of Starsky out of his head and concentrated on the reports that lay on his desk. He smiled wryly to himself. He never thought he'd be grateful for paperwork, but now it was a steady anchor in a tempestuous sea of conflicting emotions. He was finishing up the last report when Rich Johnson came up to his desk. "Are you busy, Sarge?" It was funny how none of the men he'd trained called him "Hutch". It was almost as if they knew that name was reserved for only one partner: Starsky. "Nope. I'm just working on this never-ending pile of paperwork. How's it going, Johnson?" "It's going great. Captain Dobey just told me that he was assigning me to Detective Moore. I'm staying with the 9th! I know that evaluation you gave me had a lot to do with it, and I wanted to thank you. I couldn't have done it without you. I feel like I learned a lot in the past two months." "I'm glad. Congratulations, Johnson. We need some really good men, and I think you'll be a real asset to the force." He waved an admonishing finger at the younger man. "Just don't get the big head. Being over confident will get you hurt, real fast." "I know, Sarge. I won't forget. Well, I'd better go find Detective Moore. Thanks again, Sarge. I'll be seeing you around." "Sure, Rich. Take it easy." Hutch watched the eager man walk away and felt a stabbing pain in his chest. Take care of yourself, kid. Don't let the slime suck you under. He was just about to log out for the day when the phone rang. He scooped it up. "Hutchinson." "Hey, it's me. You about ready to wrap it up?" "Yeah, I was on my way out the door. Are you hungry? You want me to pick something up on my way over?" "Nah, don't worry about that. I've got it all taken care of. Just get your carcass over here. We've got some celebrating to do." Hutch stood for a minute, thinking. His heart sank as he realized there was only one thing Starsky would celebrate: his reinstatement. Now that the day had finally arrived, Hutch didn't know how he was going to cope with their return to duty. How could he pretend to his best friend that he was happy when he was so miserable? He stiffened his shoulders and stalked out the door, preparing himself for the show that he would have to put on. He alternated between arguing with himself and practicing his smile for when he heard the good news. He sighed, frustrated. Starsky knew him too well. He'd never pull it off. When he pulled up in front of Starsky's apartment, he pasted a cheery smile on his face and went in. He stopped just inside the door, stunned. Starsky had gone all out, covering the table with a white cloth and setting out candles. The smell of steaks cooking on the stove should have made his mouth water, but Hutch's appetite was long gone. Starsky grinned at his friend while he put the final touches on a salad. "It's about time you got here. The steaks are about ready, the potatoes are staying warm in the oven and I'm tossing the salad now. Go wash up and have a seat." The blond's cheerful tone mocked his churning stomach. "It smells great, Starsk. What did you do, spend the whole day cooking?" "Nope, just most of it. Go on, get washed up. I don't know about you, but I'm starved." Hutch washed his hands and sat down at the table. An ice bucket sitting beside him caught his eye, and he winced. "You bought champagne? That's a - nice touch, Starsk." "Hey, nothing's too good for my partner." He reached in his pocket and pulled out two cigars. He grinned as he put one in Hutch's mouth. "And to prove what a nice guy I am, I even got you a cigar. I know you usually give them out when you have a baby, and there are no babies here, but this is a kind of rebirth. So, I figured what the hell? It ain't every day that I can put on the Ritz for my best friend." Hutch's smile didn't reach his eyes. "So, your therapy session went that well?" The grin he got in response was full wattage. "Yep. I got a clean bill of health and talked to the doctor. He's gonna certify me fit for duty and recommend reinstatement. With a little luck, I'll be back on duty in a couple of weeks. Ain't that great, Hutch?" The blond cleared his throat. "Isn't that a little soon, Starsky? I mean, you don't want to rush it." "Are you kidding? I've been waiting for over a year to go back to work! If I had my way, I'd go back tomorrow, but Cap says I have to wait until the board reinstates me and that might take a week or two." Hutch looked up, the food on his plate forgotten. "You talked to Dobey? When?" "After I got out of the doctor's office." Starsky wiped his hands on a paper towel and took a drink of his champagne. "You don't sound too happy, partner. What's the matter?" "Nothing's the matter, Starsk. I just�I'm not sure if you're ready. You damn near died. It's going to take some time to get over that and I don't want to see you hurt yourself." Starsky jumped up, and paced for a minute then turned back to Hutch. "I can't believe what I'm hearing! What is this? I've been busting my ass to get back on the force and now that I finally did it, you're stonewalling me. I thought you'd understand, Hutch." He stood up, and tried to put his hand on Starsky's shoulder, but the brunette backed away. "I do understand, Starsky. I just don't want you to do anything you'll be sorry for later." Indigo eyes flashed with anger. "That's easy for you to say, partner! You're not the one that's been stuck in this apartment for months, climbing the walls." Steel blue eyes flashed back. "Oh, yeah, I've been having the time of my life. I just love babysitting a bunch of raw recruits. Wiping their noses is the high point of my day!" "Well, excuse me if I'm not crying in my beer. If you hate it so much, why don't you quit?" Hutch clenched his jaw and shook his finger at the other man. "Don't tempt me!" Starsky's face paled and he sat down in the chair. The blond fervently wished he could grab the words and squeeze them until they disappeared. Congratulations, Hutchinson. You've really done it this time. He's happier than he's been since the shooting. Did you have to bring him down by dumping your own baggage on him? Why don't you just rip his heart out while you're at it? |
| Starsky looked at his friend, amazed at what he'd heard. "You don't mean that. Do you?" Hutch looked down, unable to meet Starsky's eyes. "My God. You do mean it." Anger and pain were mixed in his words. Starsky slumped back in the chair, numb. "Well. I've been concentrating on myself for too long, I see. Why, Hutch?" All the stress and fear that he'd felt came tumbling out. "Why? I saw you die, Starsky! I watched them put you back together with a hope and a prayer. I watched you struggle through the pain and the therapy, and for what? So you can go back and let someone else finish the job next time?" Hutch turned away and lowered his voice. "Did you know the sound of bullets striking flesh is exactly like the sound of a fist punching your gut? I know. I hear that sound every time I close my eyes." He collapsed back onto the couch and put his face in his hands. "I don't think I'll ever stop hearing that sound, Starsk." He raised his head, and two pairs of blue eyes bored into each other. "You're asking too much of me, partner. I don't know if I can go through that again." Starsky's voice was barely above a whisper. "So, what do you want to do?" Hutch ran his fingers through his hair. "That's just it. I don't know what I want, Starsk." He sat forward and put his hand on Starsky's arm. "I don't mean to drag you down, buddy. I know how hard you've worked to get back what you lost. I just don't know if I feel the same way." "So, where do we go from here?" Hutch spread his hands out and shrugged. "I don't know. All I do know is every time I think about getting back on the streets; it makes me sick to my stomach. I don't know if I can do it again, Starsk." The brunette paced around the room, gathering his thoughts. He shook his head sadly. "All this time, and you never said anything about how you felt. Why didn't you tell me?" Hutch raised his hands and dropped them back down. "You were trying so damned hard! I didn't want to bring you down with my doubts. All you wanted was to get back to work. How was I supposed to tell you that going back in the gutters was the last thing I wanted? I couldn't do that to you, buddy." Starsky gazed steadily at his friend and spoke softly. "We're partners, Hutch. I don't want to go back out there if you aren't going, too." All the pain and self-loathing that Hutch felt was evident in his words. "I don't know if I can, Starsk. God help me, I just don't know." The two men sat on the couch, not touching. The food lay on the table, forgotten. Suddenly, there wasn't anything to celebrate and their future seemed as bleak as the expression on their faces. The next morning, Starsky knocked on the door to Dobey's office then walked in, alone. Their captain favored him with a rare smile. "Congratulations, Starsky. I know how much you've wanted this day to come, and I'm glad it's finally here. How does it feel to be on your way back?" Starsky gave him a wan smile. "It feels great, Cap, or at least, it did." Dobey frowned. "What does that mean? You've been pushing yourself to the limit to get back on active duty. You have every right to be proud of yourself." "I am proud of myself, Cap. The doc says I'm ready, and more important, I know I'm ready. It's Hutch that I'm not sure about." "Why? What's going on with Hutchinson?" Starsky looked down at his hands. He couldn't conceal the pain in his voice. "Cap, Hutch is thinking about resigning. I don't know how long he's been thinking about it, but he told me last night." Dobey thought about the past year and beyond, and berated himself silently. He should have seen it before now. The long hair, the mustache, and the extra few pounds here and there all signaled a cop nearing burn out. So did the headaches, the sour moods, and the anger that always simmered beneath the surface. When had one of his best detectives decided it just wasn't worth it any more? Dobey knew with certainty that it was long before Gunther and his men tried to kill Starsky. He sat back and looked up at his man. "I'm sorry, Starsky. I know how much this means to you. Was he able to talk about it?" Starsky sighed woefully. "He says he can't get past what happened. We've had close calls before, but this one really got to him. But, I don't buy it, Cap. I think there's something more bothering him, but he won't tell me what it is." Now it was Dobey's turn to sigh. "I've been thinking the same thing myself. So, what are you going to do?" "I need to get him away from here for a while. You said it would be a couple of weeks before I can go before the board. We need to work this out before we go back on the streets and I don't think we can do that in Bay City." "Do you have any idea where you want to go?" "No. I mean, this isn't just a vacation, Cap. There's something heavy going on with Hutch and I have to get to the bottom of it before it's too late. All I know is; we need this time, to get back what we've lost over the past couple of years. Where do you go to do that?" "I wish I had some answers for you, Starsky, but I don't. Tell Hutch that I'll put him on administrative leave as of tomorrow. I'm going to list Post Traumatic Stress Disorder as the reason for leave." He held up a finger before Starsky could say any thing. "Now, tell him not to blow a gasket. That just entitles him to paid leave up to a month. You tell him I don't want to see him back here until he has his head screwed back on straight." Starsky smiled gratefully. "OK, Cap, I'll tell him. Thanks." He turned to leave, but Dobey stopped him. "Just let me know where you're going. And, Starsky, stay in touch." Starsky gave a mock salute. "We will, Cap. See ya." Hutch wasn't as enthusiastic as Dobey had been when Starsky told him of his plan. "I don't know, Starsk. I don't think a couple weeks away are going to help anything. I mean, isn't that just postponing the inevitable?" Starsky's eyes flashed. "Don't you think our partnership is worth going away for a couple of weeks?" "Of course it is, Starsky. That's not what I meant. But you're expecting a miracle and I'm not sure I can give you one. What's going to happen in two weeks that will make me change the way I feel?" "We can talk, for one thing. I mean really talk, not just bull shit each other. Something's going on with you and what affects you, affects both of us." Hutch put his head in his hands, suddenly very tired. His words were muffled when he spoke. "What is there to say that we haven't already said? You want to be a cop, and I don't. How do we get around that?" "You can start out by telling me why you don't want to be a cop. And I don't mean just Gunther. There's more to this than you're telling me and I think I have the right to know what it is." "Are you sure you want to hear what I have to say?" "I have to hear it, Hutch. How else am I supposed to know what's happening with you?" The blond shrugged in surrender. "OK, you talked me into it. So, where do you want to go?" "I got an idea, but only if you agree to it." Hutch sat down and crossed his legs. "Shoot." "Well, do you remember me telling you that my Uncle Archie died a few months back?" "I thought he died when he was trying to start his Model A Ford?" "No, that was my Uncle Alfonse." Hutch rolled his eyes. "I think I need a score card to keep up with your family, Starsk." Starsky looked offended. "Hey, it isn't my fault that I have a large family! Any way, Uncle Archie and Aunt Gertie had this place up in Lamont. That's close to Bakersfield, about a hundred miles from here. After Uncle Archie died, Aunt Gertie moved back in with her daughter. She's wanted to sell their house, but she doesn't have any one to clean up the place for her before she sells it. Lamont is a quiet little town, far away from the woods and there are no satanic cults hanging around. I figured we could stay in the house while we spruce it up a little, and then Aunt Gertie can sell it after we get back. We wouldn't have to worry about staying in a hotel, or living out of a suitcase while we're gone." "You know, Starsk, that isn't a bad idea. It's close to Bay City, so it won't take long to get there, and I could use a little peace and quiet. I'm game if you are." Starsky grinned. "Great! I'll call Gertie and tell her the news. She said she left the keys to the house at the realtor's office in Lamont, so we won't have to worry about that. You think you can be ready in a couple of days?" "Sure. I'll have my next-door neighbor, Mary Jo, take care of my plants, and she can keep an eye on my apartment while I'm gone. I'll let my landlord know that I'm going out of town, so he won't think I've skipped out on my lease." "Sounds like a plan to me." He laid his hand on the blond's shoulder. "This will be good for us, Hutch. We'll work things out, you'll see." "I hope so, Starsky, for both our sakes." He yawned and stretched his arms. "I'm beat. I think I'll go home and make a few calls, and start packing. I'll come over tomorrow, and we'll have lunch." Starsky grinned. "What about breakfast?" Hutch grinned back. "Hey, I'm on vacation. I'm going to sleep in, for once." Starsky waited until Hutch left and called his Aunt Gertrude. "Hi Aunt Gertie. It's David." "Davy! How are you, honey?" "I'm great. I talked to Hutch, and he's all set to go." "That's great, honey. I can't tell you how much this means to me. When Archie got sick, God rest his soul, he couldn't do much around the place, so it got away from us. I tried to take care of the house, but I just couldn't get out in the yard and do a lot of work. I don't know how I'll ever repay you." "Don't worry about it, Aunt Gertie. We needed a place to stay, and you need the help. It works out for both of us." "That's true. I know how anxious you are to go back to work, but you and Hutch have to take care of each other. You just take your time and stay as long as you want. It'll work out for the best, you'll see." Starsky chuckled. "Now you sound like Ma." "Well, your mother knows what's best for you. She knows how much you and Hutch mean to each other. Whatever's going on, you'll be OK as long as you're together. Now, the keys are at Castleman's Real Estate, in Lamont. You won't have trouble finding it, because it's the only real estate office in town. I left all of the dishes and furniture in the house, so all you'll need is your clothes and personal stuff. There are some outbuildings on the property, and the small one right behind the house was Archie's workshop. He has all kinds of tools in there, to help with the yard work and such. The barn is old, but there's still a tractor and a few implements in there, and they still work as far as I know. The people in Lamont are really friendly, and if you tell them that you're my great-nephew, they'll treat you and Ken like family. Our place is only a few miles outside of town, and Steve Castleman can give you directions when you get to Lamont." Starsky was writing notes on a pad as she talked. "What about the electricity and stuff? Are the utilities on?" "No, I had them shut off when I left, but I'll call first thing in the morning and have them turned back on. The house does have central air, so I'll call Sears and have them run out and check it. Everything should be ready for you when you get there. Do you know when you're leaving yet?" "The day after tomorrow. We have a few things to clear up here then we'll be on our way." "Well, you have my number here, and Steve will have any emergency numbers that you might need. Have a good time, Davy, and don't overdo. You and Ken can stay as long as you want. I'm not in a big hurry to sell the place. There are a lot of good memories in that old house. I just can't handle the place any more by myself." "I know Aunt Gertie, and thanks. This means a lot to me, and Hutch." "You're welcome, Davy. I love you." Starsky smiled. "I love you, too, Aunt Gertie.'Bye." |
| Two days later, they were ready to go, after the customary argument over transportation, that is. "Hutch, I am NOT taking that hunk-o-junk you call a car! I don't want to be stuck on the highway, waiting for Joe's Wrecker Service to rescue us when that heap breaks down." Instead of making his usual comeback, Hutch's voice was somber. "Starsk, are you honestly ready to get back into the Torino?" "I have to get back into it some time, buddy. Besides, you know how much that car means to me. I'm not going to let a creep like Gunther take it away. God knows he's taken enough already." Hutch sighed. "OK. I'll follow you to Merle's, and we can pick it up. We don't have that much stuff, so we should be able to get it all in the trunk and back seat." Starsky followed him down to the LTD. Before they climbed in, Hutch stopped him with another look. "You're sure you want to do this, Starsk?" "I'm sure. Come on, we can be in Lamont by dinner time." Neither man said anything on the way to Merle's garage. The unconventional black mechanic met them at the gate. "Starskinton! How'ya doin? Did ya come to get the tomato out of mothballs, finally?" Starsky grinned. "Yep. I got my drivin' privileges back and me and Hutch are takin' a trip. I won't trust that heap of his past the city limits." Merle's eyes twinkled as he turned to Hutch. "You mean you ain't put that junk heap out of its misery yet? What are you waitin' for? Divine intervention?" Starsky guffawed behind Hutch's back. "You tell'im, Merle." "I'll have you both know that my car is just fine, thank-you. It's just got.....character." Merle chortled. "Character? From what? Homer's Odyssey?" "Ha. Ha. You're both a couple of regular comedians." Starsky couldn't see the wink that Hutch gave Merle. Merle led them to a small garage, and went inside. With a flourish, he pulled the tarp away, revealing the Torino. Starsky stood for a moment, looking at his car. Despite Merle's eccentric personality, he was a top-rate body man. The Torino gleamed in the sunlight, restored to all of its glory. All traces of that horrible day were gone. Merle and Hutch stood silently as he walked slowly around his car. Even the interior had been replaced, with new leather seats and carpet. The dash had been shined to a bright luster, and all the nicks caused by broken glass had disappeared. The brunette completed the circle and stood beside the other two men. "It's beautiful. Thanks, Merle. You did a fantastic job." "Of course. I am Merle, the Earl, after all. Wait until you check under the hood. She's all tuned up and ready to go." He walked into the main garage and came out a moment later. He tossed the keys to Starsky. "Here you go. She's got a full tank of gas, too." Starsky's eyebrow shot up, and he turned to his partner. You knew, didn't you? Hutch gave a little shrug. I figured it was time to put a few ghosts to rest. Starsky laughed out loud and jumped in the front seat. "Let's get this show on the road! Thanks, Merle, for everything." "Take it easy, Starsky. Be safe." Starsky waved as he backed the car out of the garage and headed for the street. Merles watched them go then shouted, "And watch out for those potholes! Her suspension stinks!" Starsky's hand came out of the window and waved as the Torino roared away. Merle watched them disappear as an image flashed through his mind, an image of the bullet-ridden Torino being pulled in right after the shooting. He crossed himself over his greasy coveralls and said a small prayer. "Stay safe, both of you." They drove back to Hutch's apartment and put his suitcases in the trunk, then went back to Starsky's. Before long, the Torino was loaded and ready to go. Starsky gave the map to Hutch, then sat back in the driver's seat. As they pulled away from the curb, Starsky looked over at his friend. "Thanks, buddy." "This is about a new beginning, right? I figured this striped tomato could use some time away, too." Hutch grinned at his friend. "Besides, if we get lost, they should be able to find us easily. This thing still sticks out like a sore thumb." Starsky laughed and held up a bottle of cold water. "To new beginnings." Hutch held up his own bottle. "Salud." Thirty minutes later, they were on I-5 North and headed for Lamont. Once they were on the highway, Starsky settled the Torino into a comfortable speed. The scenery flashed by, as they got farther away from the city. Starsky glanced over at Hutch. The blond was looking out the window, lost in his thoughts. What are you thinking about, Hutch? Have you already made up your mind to resign? Am I just fooling myself? What if I am just postponing the inevitable? Dear God, what do I do if you quit? I don't want to go on without you, but I don't know what else I want to do. I never thought it would come to this. Being a cop is who I am. But I don't think I could do it without you. Hutch's voice broke into his thoughts. "Starsky, are you listening to me?" He shook himself slightly. "Sorry, buddy. I guess I was a million miles away. What did you say?" "I said we're making pretty good time. We should be there before the real estate office closes. Didn't your aunt say that it closed at 6?" Starsky nodded. "Damn, I didn't think about that. Yeah, we should be there in another hour or so. We'll have plenty of time to get the keys and find the house before it gets dark." Hutch looked over at him. "What were you thinking about just now?" Starsky took one hand off the steering wheel and squeezed his friend's shoulder. "I was thinking about life. It seems like every time you think things are going your way, life throws you a curve. I've been so caught up in myself that I didn't see how much you were hurting. I'm sorry, Blintz. I feel like I've let you down." Hutch sighed and turned in the seat to face his friend. "You didn't let me down, Starsk. I let you down. I know how important being a cop is to you. I wish I felt the same way. I used to. I need this time to think, Starsk. I have to know why I feel the way I do. I can't explain how I feel to you if I don't understand it myself. Right now, there is only one thing in my life that's worth fighting for, and that's you. Whatever happens, I don't want to lose you, or our friendship." "You won't, Hutch. But, don't shut me out, OK? We're not going to get anywhere if we can't talk about this. So, no secrets. We're in this together. Agreed?" Hutch laid his hand on Starsky's shoulder. "Agreed." |
| It was shortly after 5 pm when Starsky pulled up in front of the Realtor's office. Hutch stayed in the car while Starsky went inside to get the keys. He came out a few minutes later with the keys to the house and a map. He put the keys in his pocket and handed Hutch the map. "He marked the route on the map for us. He said the house is easy to find, and is only a few miles from here. I was glad to hear him say that. I think I've had enough riding for one day." "Me too, partner. And we'll have plenty of time to get settled in before dark. I'm sure glad the electricity is already on. I'm hungry, and I don't want to walk into a restaurant before I've had a shower." Starsky grinned. "Knowing my aunt, she probably left orders for someone to stock the refrigerator, and make sure the cupboards are full. She never did like to eat out much." "Now she sounds like someone I'd like to meet. How'd she end up with a nephew that's a fast food junkie?" "Ha-ha. I've never seen you turn down a pizza, buddy. Besides, Aunt Gertie and Uncle Archie always grew their own food. She's a fantastic cook, and it's easier when you have all day to mess around in the kitchen. That's a whole lot different than our schedules." "In that case, let's hope they have a freezer and it's full of Gertie's home cooking." Starsky nodded as he pulled onto the highway. "I hear ya, Blintz." The directions marked on the map were easy to follow. They turned onto a small dirt road five miles from Lamont, and drove another mile to the house. The two men traded looks as the road narrowed considerably. The brush on either side of the road was as tall as the Torino, and the road was filled with potholes. A few minutes later, they saw what remained of a wooden fence on one side. They pulled into a gravel driveway and drove slowly toward the end. Starsky stopped the Torino, and looked out the front windshield. Neither man said anything as they exited the car. The house stood at the end of the driveway. Starsky and Hutch looked at the yard filled with weeds, and the front of the house. It had been painted white at one time, but now was a dingy grey. One of the shutters was hanging on one side, and when the wind increased, it banged against the window. Starsky cleared his throat. "Well, the house isn't too bad. At least there aren't any holes in the roof. I hope." Hutch was looking around as if he'd suddenly awakened from a bad dream. "Uh huh." "Steps look pretty solid. So they should hold up. Lawn needs mowing, though." "Uh huh." Starsky looked at his friend. "Well, we don't have to rebuild the whole house. We'll just do the best we can." Hutch nodded. "You said she wanted to sell this.....place?" "Yeah, eventually." "Well, I'd give ya a ten-spot, if you could make change. Lots of change." Starsky looked around, again. "Uh huh." Hutch shook himself and shrugged. "Well, let's get this stuff in the house. I wouldn't want to be wandering out here in the dark." "Aww, come on, Hutch. This isn't the big city. Nobody's gonna jump out at ya." Hutch's look was withering. "I wasn't worried about that, Starsky. I was worried about falling over something and breaking my neck." Starsky grinned sheepishly. "Oh. Good point." They unloaded the back seat, and got the suitcases out of the trunk and headed for the front door. Starsky sat his luggage down as he pulled out the keys. When he put the key in the lock and turned it, nothing happened. Hutch frowned. "What's wrong?" Starsky grunted. "I don't know. It won't open. It's stuck." Hutch grumbled something unintelligible. "Let me try." Starsky stood back and Hutch bent down to get a good look at the lock. He turned back to his partner, and scowled. "It's rusted!" "Hey, she hasn't been gone that long! Besides, there's an awning over the.....door." Starsky ducked his head. Hutch looked up and exploded. "Yeah, there's an awning over the door. But there's a great big hole in it, too! I don't think that's real good for keeping out the rain, do you?" Starsky spoke quietly, and calmly. "Can we just go inside, please?" Hutch grumbled a little louder and tried to unlock the door again. As he turned the key, he bumped against the door with his shoulder, hard. The door swung open and Hutch half fell inside. He straightened himself up and smoothed his shirt. Slowly, he turned back to Starsky. "There. We're inside. Happy now?" Starsky's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Very." They carried the luggage inside and put it down in the living room. Both men breathed a sigh of relief when they looked around. In contrast to the outside of the house, the inside was neat and tidy. The furniture was comfortably used, and clean. Starsky smiled. "Not bad. Not bad at all." Under his breath, he whispered, "Thank God." He slapped Hutch on the back. "Well, come on, partner. Let's get washed up and find something to eat." "Now, that's the best idea you've had all day. Which way to the bedrooms?" Starsky rubbed his chin. "I haven't been here in a long time, but I think they're this way." He led Hutch through the living room and turned down a small hallway. The bedrooms were on opposite sides of the hall, with the bathroom next to the smaller one. Hutch looked through the first door. He walked slowly into the room, and nodded in satisfaction. The bed stood against one wall, and there was a small dresser and nightstand on each side. His eyes lit up as he saw the large bay window that overlooked the back yard. The cushion that lay on the windowsill was worn, but looked comfortable. He turned back to Starsky. "Well, she's your aunt. You get first dibs." Starsky smiled. He'd seen Hutch's expression when he saw the window. "You can have this one. I always stayed in the other one, anyway. It's got a connecting door to the bathroom, and this one doesn't." "You talked me into it. And to show what a nice guy I am, I'll even let you have the shower first." While Starsky was in the shower, Hutch went back to the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards. He found a plentiful supply of dishes, and cooking utensils, so he looked in the refrigerator and freezer for something to cook. He smiled gratefully when he saw the six-pack of beer on the second shelf of the fridge. It was obvious that someone had stocked the pantry recently, and their benefactor had been generous. Hutch glanced up at the clock. It was getting late, so he took a package of roast beef, a loaf of homemade bread, and quickly made sandwiches. He put a jar of pickles, a wedge of cheese, and lettuce on the small dining room table, and got out two plates, and silverware. By the time Starsky was finished with his shower, dinner was ready. "Hey, this looks great! It's a whole lot better than pizza, I gotta admit. I'm starved." Hutch grinned and sat down. "Then, eat already. I didn't feel like making a trip back to town, any way. It looks like your Aunt has everything pretty well stocked, as far as provisions go. In the morning, we can take a look around and get an idea of what we'll need to get this place back to normal." "Sounds good to me. I don't want to go traipsing around in the dark, either. There isn't any street lights out here." The two men enjoyed the simple meal and the solitude. It wasn't long before both men were yawning. Hutch took his cue, and got up. "Well, I don't know about you, partner, but I'm beat. I think I'll turn in. I'll see you in the morning, OK?" "Sure, buddy. I'm about ready to hit the sack, myself." Starsky walked to the doorway to his bedroom, and then stopped. He looked back at Hutch. "Hey, partner." Hutch looked over his shoulder. "What?" "Thanks." "For what?" Starsky motioned around the room. "For this. For letting me help my Aunt. For giving us another chance. You didn't have to come along, but you did." Hutch gave his partner a wistful smile. "I think we're worth fighting for, don't you? We'll work it out, Starsk, some how." "Yeah, we are. Goodnight, Hutch." The blond winked at his friend. "Good night, buddy. And, you're welcome." |
| Starsky rolled over in the small bed, wondering why he was suddenly awake. The silence in the room was strange to him. He was used to the noises of a big city, not this quiet night filled with only the chirping of a few insects. He slipped out of bed, wearing only a pair of briefs, and padded into the hallway. After his eyes adjusted to the moonlight, he peeked into the other bedroom. Hutch's blond hair shined dimly beside the window. Starsky coughed discreetly, taking care not to startle his friend. He saw Hutch's head move. "What's wrong, Starsk? Couldn't you sleep?" "Nothing's wrong, Blintz. It's just kind of quiet. It's hard to get used to, you know? So, what's your excuse?" "The same as yours, I guess. I'm so used to seeing lights from my bedroom, and hearing cars and sirens all night long. All you can hear now is birds singing and a few crickets. It's quite a change." Starsky sat beside his friend. "Yeah, it is. We've been city boys too long. We're not used to the country life." Hutch looked out the window and spoke softly. "All you can see is space. The stars are so bright tonight. I hardly even notice them in the city, any more. Not too far from here, the people in town are asleep, safe and secure in their own beds. I wonder if they notice the stars." "I don't know. Maybe they've gotten used to them, the way we've gotten used to the noise. They'd probably feel as out of place in Bay City as we do here." "Yeah, and so would the criminals. I don't think Lamont is a high crime area." Starsky smiled. "It doesn't look like it. Everybody probably knows everybody. A stranger would stick out like a sore thumb around here." Hutch grinned. "Like us, you mean? It's a good thing your aunt phoned the real estate company and told them we were coming. At least they know we aren't trespassing, or the local law would have paid us a visit before now." "I don't doubt that at all." The two men were quiet for a time, then Hutch said quietly, "I wonder what it's like." "What?" "Being a cop in a small town like this." "Oh, I don't know. I guess it would be pretty easy. You'd have fights to break up on the weekends, poachers once in a while, kids necking on small country roads, things like that. I don't imagine the homicide rate is very high." "No. It must be nice. I don't know if I could do it, though. We've spent too many years in the gutters. I don't think I could adjust." "You thinking about making a change, partner?" Hutch shook his head. "I don't know. I feel like I'm lost, like I'm searching for something. I look back at the last ten years and ask myself, why? What good have I done?" Starsky shrugged, and sighed. "Maybe this is why. Maybe we did what we did back there so the people here could have this kind of life. We stopped the creeping crud from taking little towns like this over. These people have never heard of Gunther, or Marcus. They lock their doors at night to keep the kids in, not the crooks out. They're born in peace, they live and they die. We keep the cancer from spreading and eating up their way of life." "And they never know how close it comes." Starsky squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Not if we do it right." Hutch smiled wanly. "I wish I had as much confidence in our job as you do, Starsk. I don't know how much longer we can keep the wolves at bay. How do we know they aren't here already?" "We wouldn't be sitting here, having this conversation, if they were." Starsky stood up and stretched. "Well, it's getting late, and we have a different kind of creeping crud to worry about. We need to get some sleep if we're going to tackle that yard in the morning." He walked to the door and looked back. Hutch was still sitting there, looking out the window. "The only wolves out there are the four-legged kind, Hutch. We won't let the two-legged ones in." Hutch looked out at the stars. "I hope you're right, Starsky. God, I hope you're right." |
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