Rejected

Part 3

 

            Starsky followed Hutch and Garvey into his living room. The older man motioned for them to sit down.

            “Make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen. Now, what can I do for you?”

            Hutch looked around the room. “You’ve got a nice home, Mr. Garvey. Have you lived here long?”

            Garvey nodded. “I grew up here. My parents bought the house right after they were married. I was an only child, and when they passed away, I inherited it. I never married, you see, so I didn’t see any reason to change anything. It suits my needs perfectly.”

            “I can understand that. If you don’t mind, I’d like to review what we went over the last time we talked. You work for Surf’s Up Pools and Spas, right?”

            Garvey nodded. “I’ve been with them for about 5 years now.”

            “And where did you work before that?”

            “I was a grounds keeper for the park. I’ve always enjoyed working out doors, you see. When my father died of a heart attack, I left the parks department and stayed home to take care of my mother. She had MS, and was confined to a wheelchair most of the time. She had a massive stroke and died a year later. At the time, there weren’t any openings at the department, so I took a job with Surf’s UP. It was supposed to be temporary, but I liked the job so well that I stayed. Not only do I get to be outside, but I travel all over the city. It’s the best of both worlds, as far as I’m concerned. The pay certainly isn’t that much, but I have few material needs.”

            Hutch nodded understandingly. “OK, let’s go back to Melanie. You said in our previous interviews that you saw her playing outside on numerous occasions. Did you ever notice anyone paying undue attention to her? Or did you notice any unfamiliar vehicles in the area at the time she disappeared?”

            Garvey shook his head regretfully. “After we talked the last time, I wracked my brain, hoping to remember something that would help. As I stated before, most of the men in this neighborhood work. It’s an old fashioned suburb, Lieutenant. The men go to work and their wives stay home and take care of the children. Melanie loved to play outside, but she was always under the watchful eye of her mother. Any male would be noticed lurking around during the day, and so would any vehicle. Of course, most of the time, I was gone myself. I happened to be off the day Melanie disappeared, but I spent most of that time running personal errands. By the time I returned home, the police were already searching for her. “

            “In one of our interviews with Mrs. Rivers, she said you did some construction work for the puppet show that’s held in the park. Do you recall seeing Melanie at any of the shows?”

            “Unfortunately, I did the work at night, when the kids weren’t around. But, I know she loved the shows. All of the children in the neighborhood did. It was a gathering place for them, and their mothers would visit while the show was going on. The park was somewhere safe that they could go. Do you think someone from the parks department was watching her?”

            “It’s a possibility, Mr. Garvey. OK, I think that’s enough review. Let me tell you what we know now. We’ve had some new leads, and we think she was lured into a car and taken out of the area. Our investigation led us to an abandoned shack on old Dover’s road. Our crime team found the remains of a child buried a few yards from the shack. The post-mortem won’t be complete for a couple of days, but we think the body is Melanie’s.”

            Garvey paled. “That’s horrible. How tragic! To think that poor child was murdered is inconceivable. How long do you think she’s been there?”

            “From the condition of the body, she was murdered shortly after she disappeared. We’re accepting the possibility that any evidence was washed away with last year’s rains, but the team is combing the entire area as we speak. But we did discover something interesting when we unearthed the body. There were small pieces of the fabric in her dress in the grave, but the barrettes she was wearing were missing. Plastic doesn’t deteriorate that quickly, so we think the killer took them as a trophy.”

            “That’s positively ghoulish! What kind of monster would kill an angel like Melanie and keep her barrettes? It’s more than the mind can accept.”

            “Yes, it is. We checked with the county tax assessor, and it seems that you own that particular piece of property, Mr. Garvey. Could you tell us the last time you were there?”

            Garvey wrung his hands together in his lap. “Oh, dear, what an awful coincidence that is! I assure you, Lieutenant, I haven’t been there in years. My father originally bought the property with the intention of building a new home. My mother was diagnosed with MS shortly after that, so the plans never materialized. I keep the taxes up simply because it’s a valuable piece of real estate. I’ve never developed it and I have no intentions of doing so.”

            “I see. To your knowledge, does anyone else know that you own this property? The location is secluded and isn’t easily accessible, so it would be the perfect place to hide a body.”

            “I can’t recall discussing it with anyone. I wish I could be of more help, Lieutenant. I’m sure this is a disappointment for you, but I had nothing to do with Melanie’s murder, and I have no idea who buried her on my property. I’m afraid this is all a horrible coincidence.”

            Hutch narrowed his eyes. “Really? And is it simply a coincidence that four other children disappeared in the last year, and you just happened to be in the area? We talked to your supervisor and got a record of your work schedule for the past twelve months. I have other detectives talking to your customers and to the families of the missing children now. To put it bluntly, Mr. Garvey, you’ve just become our prime suspect. Unless, of course, you can come up with an iron-clad alibi for the day Melanie was kidnapped.”

            For the first time, Garvey’s calm demeanor slipped. His eyes narrowed and his words were clipped.

            “Really, Lieutenant, you can’t expect the clerks I talked to over a year ago to remember precisely when I was in their establishment. I’m sure they see hundreds of people a day. Now, if you’re charging me with a crime, I’d like to call my lawyer. Otherwise, you’ll have to excuse me.”

            “I think calling your lawyer is a good idea, Mr. Garvey. While you’re at it, you can tell him that we have a warrant to search this house.”

            Garvey jumped up, agitated. “You can’t do that! What grounds do you have? You can’t simply walk in here and start tearing my home apart without some evidence that I’ve committed a crime.”

            “We have evidence, Mr. Garvey. We have your close proximity to Melanie, for one thing. We’ve linked you to not only Melanie’s disappearance but to the other children’s as well. And last, but not least, you own the property where Melanie was buried. I know that’s not much, but Judge Harmon thought it was enough for a search warrant.”

            “And exactly what are you looking for, Lieutenant?”

            “I think you know, Mr. Garvey. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have the detectives that are waiting outside come in and we’ll get to work. Besides, you have a call to make.”

            Garvey sputtered, but didn’t say anything as he headed for the phone. Hutch motioned for Starsky to remain seated then walked over to the door. He waved for the other detectives to come into the house. He was waiting for them at the entrance to the living room.

            “Simmons, Babcock, you take the kitchen and the bathroom. I have no idea what we’re looking for, so be thorough. Garner, you take the front room and the back bedroom. I’ll take Garvey’s bedroom. I know it’s been a year since Melanie disappeared, but give it your best. Garvey has a good point. Everything we have up to now is purely circumstantial. Any public defender could poke holes in our case without breaking a sweat. If we’re going to bring this lunatic down, we need to find something incriminating here. If you find anything, bag it first and then call out. Make sure the chain of evidence stays intact. We don’t want this nut getting off on a technicality.”

            The other detectives nodded then went off in their assigned directions. Hutch waited until they were all occupied then motioned for Starsky to follow him. When they were away from the others, Hutch turned to the psychic.

            “OK, this one’s for all the marbles. If we don’t find those trophies, we’ll never convince a judge that he killed so much as a fly.”

            Starsky walked over to the closet and opened it. He stood, staring at the contents then pointed to a medium-sized box on the top shelf.

            “They’re all in there.”

            Hutch put on a pair of exam gloves then took the box from the shelf. The two men exchanged looks then Hutch opened the box. When the contents were revealed, his jaw clenched with anger. He closed his eyes as he fought to compose himself then nodded with satisfaction. Clutching the box in his hands, Hutch walked out of the bedroom. Simmons was coming out of the kitchen when the two men reached the living room. Garvey was standing in the middle of the room, watching the detectives search his house. Hutch strode over to the suspect, his face a mask of fury.

            “You really thought we were stupid, didn’t you, Garvey? You were so damned sure of yourself that you kept this stuff right under our noses. How many kids have you murdered, you lousy pervert? How many little mementos did you keep?”

            Garvey stepped back, his eyes darting around the room. “That’s not mine. I don’t know where you found it, but I’ve never seen that box before. You must have planted it. You’re trying to frame me!”

            “Bull shit! I’m sure when our lab boys get into this box; they’ll find your grubby little fingerprints all over it. We told you that Melanie’s barrettes were missing when we found her body. Well, guess what I found in this box? You see, her mother said the white dress she was wearing was her favorite, and she always wore the same barrettes in her hair when she wore the dress. I’ve looked at that dress and those barrettes for a year now. She was wearing the same outfit when she posed for the picture that sits on my desk. I hope you told your lawyer to meet you at the station, because that’s just where you’re headed. You’re under arrest for the kidnapping and murder of Melanie Rivers, and that’s just for starters. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll wish you’d crawled in that grave with her. Get him out of here.”

            As Babcock put the handcuffs on Garvey and ushered him out of the room, Hutch handed the box to Simmons.

            “Get that down to the lab pronto. And I don’t want the inside of that box touched until it gets there. I want this done by the book, all the way.”

            “You got it, Hutch. You still want us to toss the place?”

            “You damn right I do. If he was conceited enough to horde the stuff he took from the victims, there’s no telling what else he kept. If you need to, call in the troops, but I want this whole place torn apart.”

            “Where will you be if we need you?”

            Hutch’s grin was feral. “Why, I’ll be waiting for Mr. Garvey and his lawyer. We’re going to have a nice, long chat.”

            He motioned to Starsky with his head then walked out to the car. As he opened the driver’s side door, he looked over the roof at the brunet.

            “I owe you a big one, Starsky. If you hadn’t led us to Garvey, there’s no telling how many more kids he would have killed.”

            Starsky shrugged. “Well, you can repay me by finding the nut that’s killing my friends. I’m glad you found Melanie’s killer, but there’s another maniac out there, and he’s declared open season on everyone I work with.”

            “Oh, we’ll get him, too. Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten that I have another case. As the old saying goes, one down, one to go.”

            Hutch drove back to the station and headed for the interrogation rooms. Dobey was waiting for him.

            “Babcock just took the box down to the lab. We’re pulling in every tech we’ve got. The FBI’s even sending over an agent, with the files they have on the missing kids. And Charlie’s still working on the correlation between Garvey and any open MP cases that we have. God knows how many children he’s killed.”

            “He said that he’d been at Surf’s Up for five years and before that at the park’s department. I didn’t take a close look in that box, but I’d bet he’s murdered more than the four possible cases we’ve found.”

            Dobey looked at Starsky, but the brunet simply shrugged. “All I know is he’s been doing it for a long time, longer than five years anyway. If you don’t mind, I’d really rather not crawl into his head again. I’m tired and if I try that right now, I may not get back out.”

            Dobey looked chagrined. “I wouldn’t ask you to jeopardize your mental health, Mr. Starsky. You’ve done more than enough. We’ll finish the investigation the old-fashioned way. I appreciate the help. If I didn’t say so before now, I apologize.”

            Starsky smiled wearily. “That’s OK. I know you’ve had a few things on your mind. Give me a couple of days to rest up then if you need me again, I’ll do what I can.”

            Hutch looked in the direction of the interrogation room. “In the meantime, I have an appointment with Garvey and his attorney. If there’s nothing else, Harold, I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”

            “OK and I’ll let you know as soon as we come up with anything on the box.”

            As Hutch started toward the first interrogation room, Starsky started to follow him, but the blond stopped him with a raised hand.

            “Hold it, where do you think you’re going?”

            “I’m going with you, of course.”

            Hutch shook his head. “Oh, no you’re not. I got away with sneaking you by the other detectives at the house, but you can’t be in there when I question Garvey. His attorney will have a conniption fit if I drag a civilian into an official interrogation.”

            “Now wait a minute! You can’t expect me to come this far and then drop out of the whole thing. I can’t just put my feelings on hold like that. Besides, you might need me. I can tell when he’s lying. What if he wiggles out of this?”

            “He’s not going to wiggle out of anything. I know for a fact that Melanie’s barrettes are in that box, and before morning, we’ll know what else is there. And as for him lying, I’ve been a cop for a long time. I think I can tell when a suspect is lying to me.”

            Starsky opened his mouth to object, but Hutch overruled him. “Look, I know it’s not fair, but that’s the way it is.” He pointed to the room next door. “You can go in there. It’s got a two way mirror, and an intercom. You’ll be able to see and hear everything that goes on. I’m sorry, that’s the best I can do.”

            Starsky turned the door knob and went into the small room. As he waited for Hutch to join Garvey and his attorney, he mumbled to himself.

            “Terrific. I love being used and abused. All that’s missing from this screwing is the kiss.”

            He sat down in the chair by the window and watched as Hutch entered the room. Myron Kruger looked more nervous than his client did when the detective sat down across the table from him. He coughed then wiped his face with a handkerchief.

            “Um, Lieutenant, exactly what are the charges against my client?”

            Hutch glared at the man sitting next to Kruger. “At the moment, he’s charged with the kidnapping and murder of Melanie Rivers. Our lab is examining the contents of the box we found in his closet, so I’m sure other charges will be added soon.”

            Hutch put both hands on the table and leaned forward. “You’re a murderer and a pedophile, Mr. Garvey. At the moment, most of our evidence is circumstantial, but I assure you, that will change once the forensic reports are in. You stalk these kids and prey on their innocence. You lure them away from their homes and torture them then you strangle them and throw their bodies away like so much refuse. I am going to take you off the streets and put you in prison for the rest of your unnatural life. Bet on it!”

            Garvey sneered at him with false bravado. “You can’t prove anything, pig!”

            “Oh, can’t I? You had Melanie’s barrettes in your possession when we arrested you. She was buried on your property. You live just two houses down from her. You say you weren’t home at the time of her disappearance, but you can’t substantiate your alibi. I think when we turn this over to the district attorney; he’ll say that we have a pretty tight case.”

            Hutch leaned back and took a pen out of his pocket. As he drummed it on the table, he stared at the suspect.

            “You’re not saying anything, Mr. Garvey. Is that because you’re remembering what else is in that box? How many other kids have you killed? How many other bodies will we find buried around that cabin? Oh, did I forget to mention that at this very moment, three teams of investigators are going over every square inch of that property? Those teams consist of officers and cadaver dogs, trained in the recovery of bodies. Tomorrow, detectives all over this city will talk to the parents of the other missing kids. I’m sure they’ll tell us how friendly you were when you cleaned their neighbors’ pools. They’ll tell us how much the kids all loved you. Maybe they even called you Uncle Al. You insinuated yourself into those parent’s lives and took away their kids. I’m sure they’ll do all they can to get you off the streets.”

            Garvey looked down at his hands as the silence thickened in the room. Suddenly, he threw his head back and laughed out loud.

            “Oh, what a tragic picture you paint, Lieutenant! I can see all of those poor, heartbroken parents wringing their hands and crying over the loss of their precious children. How will they manage to go on?”

            He leered at Hutch with a look of pure madness in his eyes. “It’s all a sham, Lieutenant! Those kids were nothing but status symbols to their parents. They were possessions, like the houses they lived in and the cars in their garage. Its part of the American dream, don’t you see? Every couple must have a three bedroom home with a two car garage and two or three kids. There’s no room in our society for less.”

He lowered his voice as his thoughts turned inward. “Besides, if they don’t have any kids, who will take care of them when they get older? God knows, the health care for seniors in this country is sadly lacking. No respectable pillar of the community wants to end up in a state run nursing home. That would simply be too degrading. Heaven forbid! What would the neighbors say? So, these loving parents give their children everything and then extract their pound of flesh when their own is too feeble to function. It’s the way of the world, Lieutenant.”

Kruger’s face was pale as he put his hand on Garvey’s knee. “Maybe you shouldn’t say anything else, Alvin. We haven’t had the chance to discuss your defense yet.”

Garvey laughed again. “Don’t worry, Myron. Lieutenant Hutchinson understands, don’t you, Lieutenant?”

Hutch nodded slowly, trying to hide his revulsion. “Of course, I understand, Mr. Garvey. You were the product of society, too, weren’t you? Your parents paraded you around like some kind of trophy. They wanted to be respectable so they had to have a child. Did they want another one or did they stop with you? It doesn’t matter, does it? They kept you trapped in that house and never gave you the chance to have a life of your own. But they weren’t as prosperous as the other parents, were they? You didn’t have the fancy house and the brand new car. Your father wasn’t a doctor or a lawyer, was he? He wasn’t a politician or an actor. He worked for the park’s department, just like you did. He was a simple groundskeeper, just like you. When he died, he left you to take care of your mother and the noose got tighter. Any hope that you had of getting married and having a family of your own was gone. When your mother died, you were left with nothing but the house and that cabin.”

Garvey nodded energetically. “Yes, you do understand! My whole life was planned by my father. He demanded that I follow in his footsteps. Whenever I mentioned moving out, he wouldn’t hear of it. There was no need, he said. The house was good enough for them, so it should be good enough for me. The only joy I ever knew came from my job, and for that, I’m grateful to him. But, in the end, he took that away from me, too. When he died, and my mother’s condition got worse, I had no choice! I had to quit, and I endured twelve months of confinement before she died, too. After the funeral, I tried to get my old job back, but there were no openings. They put me on a waiting list, can you believe that? My father worked for them for thirty years and I gave them five years of my own life, and it meant nothing to them. All I had left was an empty house and that run down cabin in the woods.”

Hutch leaned closer. “Did you hate those kids, Mr. Garvey? Were you jealous of them?”

Garvey shook his head emphatically. “No, I didn’t hate them! I loved them. I stopped them from suffering the way that I did.”

Hutch pointed a finger at him. “You’re lying! You hated your father for taking away your life and you were jealous of those kids because they had everything you never had. You took them away from their parents because you couldn’t stand the thought of them being happy. You killed them because you knew how much it would hurt their parents and you wanted everyone to be as miserable as you were. Love? You don’t know what love is, Mr. Garvey.”

Hutch stood up and walked away from the table. He turned his back on Garvey and struggled to quell the nausea in his stomach. He barely heard Kruger’s question.

“I think we have enough, don’t you? It’s obvious that my client suffers from diminished capacity.”

Hutch turned around, his jaw clenched. “That’s for the psychiatrists to determine, Mr. Kruger. But you can bet your ass that I’ll do everything I can to convince a jury that he was completely sane when he took those kids. I hope you can pull a rabbit out of a hat, counselor, because that’s what it will take to get your client off the hook. Good day, Gentlemen.”

After casting a final glare at Garvey, Hutch stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He leaned against it and willed his breathing to return to normal. When the anger subsided, he opened the door to the room where Starsky waited and went in.

The young psychic was pale and sat in the chair with his head down. He looked up at the sound of the door closing. He exhaled slowly and rubbed his face with his hands.

“Well, that was fun. What’s going to happen now?”

Hutch shook his head slightly.  “I’m not going to do anything else until our department psychiatrist talks to Garvey. I want to stop this so-called insanity defense in its tracks. Garvey didn’t exactly confess, but we have a stronger case because of what he said. And since he was Mirandized when he was arrested and his attorney was present during questioning, everything he said was admissible. After the psychiatrist certifies him competent to stand trial, I’ll have another go at him if I think it’s necessary. It might not be, once the lab analyzes the contents of that box.”

He ran long fingers through his hair then sighed. “Right now, I think we both could use a break. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? There’s another killer out there, and we need to focus on him now. We’ll let the courts take care of Garvey.”

Starsky smiled wearily. “I’m all for that. How do you do it, Hutch? How can you just shift your priorities from one maniac to another? I don’t know if I could do that.”

“It comes with the job, Starsky. There’s too many nuts and not enough cops to handle all of the cases. I’ve juggled three or four at a time. You have to keep plugging along. Crime doesn’t take a holiday, or a day off. Now, let’s get out of here. I’m sick of this place and I can imagine you are, too.”

“Amen to that. Let’s go.”

 

            David Starsky knew he was dreaming this time. The scenes that unfolded were choppy and disjointed. One minute, he was parking the Torino in his usual spot at O’Neil’s then the next minute he was walking through the lobby. Everything looked normal, except for one major difference. Every person that he saw was dead. His co-workers were sitting in chairs, leaning against the wall, or propped up in corners, but now their body’s were covered in blood. On each of their foreheads, the legend was stamped: Rejected. As he stumbled through the carnage, he gasped an apology under his breath.

            “I’m sorry! Oh, God, I should have done something! How can everyone be dead?”

            The scene shifted again and he was in his office. The phantom in black stood with his back to Starsky, his coat covered in gore. He grasped the knife loosely in his hands, and the blade pointed to the floor, dripping blood on the carpet. Involuntarily, Starsky gasped and the murderer turned around. The fedora still covered his face but the voice was the same as in his visions.

            “You’re late, Davy. You missed all the fun.”

            Starsky’s reply was filled with pain. “Oh, my God, you killed them all! Why? What did they do to you that were so wrong?”

            “They laughed at me! They all hated me. I just wanted to be their friend, but I wasn’t good enough for them. Well, I showed them! I did what I wanted and there was no one here to stop me. YOU weren’t here to stop me, Davy! Their blood is on your hands. It’s your fault!”

            As the phantom raised the knife and rushed toward Starsky, he repeated the litany.

            “It’s your fault!”

            Starsky sat up in the dark room and wiped the sweat from his face with one hand. Clad only in a pair of briefs, he stumbled into the kitchen and took a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator. He walked over to the window and stared outside, holding the cool bottle to his face as he waited for his heart to stop pounding in his chest. Finally, his breathing slowed as the ravages of the dream diminished in his mind.

            He’s right. If anyone else dies, it will be my fault. I started the whole thing with Garvey. I was only trying to convince them that I was for real! I didn’t know it would drag on for so long. I’m glad they caught Garvey, but what about my friends? I don’t want anyone else to die! I got into Garvey’s head. Why can’t I get into this guy’s? Who is he?

            Starsky shook his head. He knew that they had to stop Garvey before he killed again. There was one bit of information that he’d left out when he talked to Hutch and Dobey. Garvey had already picked out his next victim. The psychic knew with certainty that if Garvey had remained on the streets much longer, another child would disappear, and another body would be interred in the woods.

            I did the right thing! I couldn’t simply sit by and let him kill another innocent kid. But, we wasted precious time. The phantom could be going after his next victim right now! Does he have a list? Is he checking them off as he kills them?

            A final thought rose unbidden in his mind. Am I next? Damn it, why can’t I see him?

            He drank the last of his water and got back in bed. If he didn’t get some sleep, he’d look like death warmed over when he went back to work the next day. Starsky grimaced at the pun. Walking into the office was going to be hard enough after his dream. He was seeing bodies everywhere. The last thing he wanted, or needed, was people asking him where he’d been. Tom’s death had to be common knowledge by now. If he was going to face the gauntlet of their questions, he had to be rested. With grim determination, the brunet forced his thoughts away from death and imagined sitting on a quiet beach, watching the waves come in. As the tranquil scene played out in his mind, his breathing slowed and he fell into a deep sleep.

            The next morning, Starsky parked his car and walked slowly into the building. The nightmare he’d had last night came back with a vengeance as he entered the lobby. He was so relieved to see Peggy alive and well that he favored her with one of his brightest smiles. He braced himself as he anticipated her first words. He wasn’t disappointed.

            “Oh, David, did you hear? Tom Rowan was murdered the other night! The police won’t admit that it was the same person that killed Jeannie, but who else could it be?”

            Starsky feigned shock as he gathered his thoughts. “No, I didn’t hear! I was called out of town on a personal emergency and just got back last night. I haven’t seen the paper this morning. That’s terrible! Are the police doing anything about it?”

            “There were a couple of detectives here yesterday, asking questions, but that’s all. That good looking Lieutenant wasn’t with them, so maybe they couldn’t tell us anything. It’s horrible, though. We’re all so frightened! First, it was Jeannie and now Tom. You have to wonder who’ll be next.”

            “I’m sure the police are doing all they can, Peggy. Don’t put yourself in that kind of state. I think we should all be more cautious, but you can’t just stay in bed and pull the covers over your head. We all have a job to do, and Jeannie and Tom would want us to go on with our lives.”

            She nodded reluctantly. “I know, but you have to admit it’s scary. It seems as if someone is killing us one by one. Why would any one do that?”

            “I don’t know, Peggy. I wish I could say something that would help. If it will make you feel better, why don’t you go stay with your sister for a while? She just lives a couple of blocks away, right? Jeannie lived alone and I’m pretty sure Tom did, too. There’s safety in numbers, as the old saying goes.”

            She nodded in agreement. “I slept there last night. As soon as I told Mandy what happened, she insisted that I get out of my apartment immediately. Her husband travels a lot, so it works out for both of us. Mandy doesn’t work here, but the streets aren’t really safe for a woman alone, at all.”

            “I know, but that’s part of living in a big city. You can’t let fear paralyze you. Give the police some time. They’ll catch whoever’s doing this and we can all go back to our normal lives.”

            “I hope you’re right, David. I’ve known most of these people for years. I don’t want to see any more of my friends die.”

            Starsky nodded fervently. “You can say that again, Peggy. Let’s hope they catch this nut soon.”

            He left the lobby and took the elevator up to his office. As he passed the other employees, he listened for the voice he’d heard in his visions. Who is it? Which one of you is the killer? I wish to God I knew.

            He escaped into his office and shut the door, blocking out the conversations of his co-workers. Pushing all thoughts of the murders out of his mind, he tried to concentrate on the stack of paperwork on his desk.   Starsky grew more and more frustrated as his mind drifted back to the events of the last two days. The images of bodies covered in blood and killers that wore black hats kept intruding into his thoughts. Damn it, catching homicidal maniacs wasn’t his job, this was! He had worked too long and too hard to let his professionalism slip away now. Finally, with a curse, he gave up. It was nearly lunchtime, so he walked down to the cafeteria and ordered a sandwich and coffee. He didn’t want to hear the gossip about Jeannie and Tom, so he brought his lunch back to his office. He swung his chair around and gazed out the window as he ate, trying to block out his preoccupation with death. When the last crumb was gone and his coffee cup empty, Starsky turned around and tried to go back to work. As he started to review the campaign for Danny’s Sports Den, there was a knock on his door.

            He sighed to himself and sat back in his chair. “Come in!”

            Hutch peeked around the door. “Am I interrupting anything? Of course I am. You’re working. Do you have a few minutes to spare?”

            Starsky closed the file he was working on and sat back. “Sure, have a seat. What’s up?”

            Hutch sat down in the overstuffed chair and held up a stack of papers. “I finally stopped by your personnel office and got a list of employees. I only made copies of the male employees since you said it was definitely not a woman. I thought we might go over them and see if anyone sounds like a good candidate.”

            “I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’ll try. When do you want to do it?”

            “I know that you’re busy and I’ve already taken up enough of your time, so how about dinner at Huggy’s and we’ll go over the files then?”

            “Sure. I should be finished around five or five thirty, so I can meet you there around six.”

            Hutch smiled. “Sounds good to me. I’ll take these to R&I and see if any of these men have rap sheets. I don’t think it will be that easy, but it’s SOP. So, how’s it going? Are they saying much about Tom Rowan?”

            “No, not really. They’re really getting spooked, though. There’s no way they can miss the connection and some of the single women have gone to stay with friends or family. I hope we can catch this nut before everyone in the company freaks out. Speaking of freaks, what happened with Garvey?”

            Hutch smiled at the pun then sobered. “Our crime lab thinks there are twenty separate victims. We’ve already cleared the four cases we know about. It was rough, but we showed the parents of the missing kids the contents of that box, and they identified personal items from each kid. The guys from the lab are back in his house now, looking for any other evidence linking him to the murders. I think it’s safe to say that Garvey will be locked up for the rest of his life.”

            “What about that insanity plea his lawyer was talking about?”

            Hutch rubbed his face. “There’s a difference between being psychotic and being insane. The district attorney doesn’t think there will be a problem proving Garvey fit to stand trial. Don’t worry; he won’t get off that easy. St. Peter himself couldn’t get that nut off.”

            “That’s good to know. I just wish we could find this nut and get him off the street, too.”

            “We will, but old fashioned police work takes time. You plod along the best you can and hope something pops up. It’s not glamorous, but we usually get our man.”

            Starsky sat back, his eyes haunted. “I know, but we don’t know how much time we have. He could be sharpening his knife and picking out his next target. I don’t want to see another person slashed to ribbons.”

            Hutch nodded. “You must be going through Hell right now. We’re doing everything possible to keep your company safe. Our public relations department is going to release a statement to O’Neil’s this afternoon. We’re wording it carefully, but we want everybody to know the danger they’re in. “

            Starsky jumped up and paced around the room. “But you can’t tell them why, can you? Two people have died and all we know is this nut thinks he’s been rejected. He goes around asking people to have a cup of coffee with them and when they say no, he goes ape shit. That’s NOT a reason to kill somebody!”

            Hutch got up and went to stand in front of the psychic. “It is to him. This goes deeper than just getting a simple no. He feels like he’s being snubbed. He’s already walking on the edge, personality wise, and every time someone turns him down it enforces his feeling of inferiority. Look, I’m not a psychiatrist, but I’ve dealt with these types before. The reason they kill exists mostly in their own mind. On the outside, this guy will probably look normal. He’ll do his job, seem very shy, and be very willing to help. As long as he’s appreciated, everything is fine. When he feels like he’s being slighted, he snaps.”

            Starsky smiled slightly. “For someone who isn’t a psychiatrist, you’re doing pretty well. I only have one question. If this guy is just a normal Joe, how are we supposed to find out who he is?”

            Hutch held both hands up. “If we had the time, we’d go through every personnel file in this company. We’d do complete back ground checks on every employee, going back as far as necessary. We’d hope that we’d find evidence of his unstable personality, maybe through a rap sheet, or through psychiatric records. It’s doubtful that this is his first brush with the law, but it’s possible. But, we don’t have that much time. So, I’m hoping you can help speed up the process. We’ll go through these files tonight and see if any one sticks out.”

            Starsky sighed. “I hope someone does. The thought that I could be rubbing elbows with a serial killer gives me the willies. When I came to work today, I caught myself listening to everyone around me, to see if I would hear that voice. I can’t believe someone that I have worked with closely could be this crazy, and I’ve never picked up on it.”

            Hutch shook his head. “My gut instinct tells me that this nut isn’t someone you work closely with. These psychos are usually under achievers. Their neuroses cripple them. It keeps them from being successful. They have problems with authority and don’t get along well with their peers. And there’s something else that you have to consider. The reason you don’t recognize his voice may be because you don’t hear it often. It could be someone you only interact with occasionally.”

            Starsky let out an exasperated snort. “That’s just terrific! You keep telling me that you can’t parade every man in this company in front of me and make them say something, but it sounds like that’s what it will take.”

            Hutch smiled at the image. “Well, maybe we can do that as a last resort. Don’t sell yourself short. I think, between the two of us, we can whittle the list down a lot.”

            Starsky grimaced. “I wish I had your confidence, Hutch. I don’t know if I can tell who it is by just looking at his file. I picked up on Garvey from Melanie’s picture, but that’s different. I can feel negative emotions easily when something is going on, but I don’t know if I can do that by just reading about somebody.”

            Hutch shook his head. “I’m not expecting you to do the whole thing by yourself. We’ll go through the files and see what’s there. Then we’ll get the background checks of anyone that looks promising. I know that seems like the hard way to do it, but I’m fresh out of ideas right now. This guy has me stumped.”

            Starsky sighed. “Yeah, I know what you mean. The whole thing scares me to death. I had a nightmare that while I was helping you catch Garvey; the phantom went to O’Neil’s and killed everyone in the building. We’re running out of time. I can feel it.”

            “Yeah, I can feel it, too. We’ll get him, Starsky. I promise you. But, in the mean time, we have to keep everyone in the building as safe as we can. Now, get back to work and I’ll see you tonight.”

            “I’ll be there. And if you come up with anything before then, call me. I won’t be able to concentrate until this maniac is behind bars.”

            Hutch saluted with the roll of papers in his hand. “I’ll do that. And try not to worry too much. We both still have a job to do.”

            Starsky sat back as Hutch closed the door behind him. I hope to God that you do your job before this nut does his.

 

            Starsky finished working on the sport’s account and left his office at five-thirty as planned. He stopped by his apartment and changed clothes then went to Huggy’s. Hutch was already there, seated at a booth in the back. As soon as he sat down, Huggy brought him a beer and a Huggy’s Special.

            “Blondie told me you’d been working all day, so I thought you could use some sustenance. How goes the world of advertising?”

            Starsky grinned at him. “It’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills. You should think about putting some ads out for this place, Huggy. It could double your business.”

            Huggy threw his head back and guffawed. “No offense, bro’, but I don’t think the patrons that frequent this establishment read The Wall Street Journal.”

            Starsky winked. “I don’t know, Hug. Judging by the copies I’ve seen decorating the alleys around here, someone likes it.”

            “You got a point, Starsk. Uh oh, I see Diane waving to me. I think that’s my cue to get back to work. If you two yahoo’s need me, just give me a sign.”

            Starsky finished his meal then cleared the table so Hutch could spread the files out between them. One by one, they went over the male employees in the agency. By the time they’d gone over half the files, Starsky was getting very frustrated.

            “I told you this wouldn’t help! None of those men are familiar to me. How am I supposed to know if they’re the killer if I don’t recognize their names?”

            “We just got started, Starsky. If nothing rings a bell about these people, we’ll wait for their back ground checks. I don’t want you to feel like it’s all on your shoulders. I’ve got the entire department working on it.”

            Starsky huffed. “Sure, and while we’re plodding along, this creep goes after someone else I know. Damn it! I centered in on Garvey! Why can’t I see this guy?”

            Hutch sat back and regarded the other man. “I have the feeling it’s because you’re too close to this. What happened to Melanie was horrible, but you weren’t involved in it. It didn’t affect you personally. You’ll see this guy eventually.”

            The brunet snorted. “When? When he’s coming after me with his knife? I’d like a little more warning than that.”

            “I know you’re feeling frustrated right now, but don’t give up on me. Look, it’s late and you’ve had a hard couple of days. Why don’t we knock off for the night? In the morning, I’ll see what R&I come up with and we’ll go from there.”

            Starsky threw his napkin down on the table. “Yeah, maybe they’ll have more luck than I had. This isn’t getting us anywhere, any way. I think I’ll go home and drink myself into oblivion. Let me know if you get anything useful.”

            Hutch watched him walk out the door. I take it back. I don’t think I want to be psychic if it makes you that miserable. Keep the faith, buddy. We’ll get this nut sooner or later.

            Starsky went home and took a hot shower, changing into his oldest and most comfortable pair of sweats. He fixed himself a strong drink, but it didn’t help his jangling nerves. After a while, he gave up and went to bed. He’d only been asleep for a couple of hours when the familiar voices intruded on his subconscious.

 

Sabrina Abernathy stood in her living room and gaped in horror at the man in black.

            “Who are you? What do you want? Please don’t hurt me!”

 

            As soon as the feeling of horror pervaded his subconscious, Starsky jumped out of bed and ran for the phone.

            “Ninth precinct, Sergeant Jones speaking. How may I help you?”

            Starsky fought to speak calmly. “This is David Starsky. I need to get in touch with Lieutenant Hutchinson immediately. It’s an emergency.”

            “He’s gone home for the night. May I take a message?”

            “No, you may NOT take a message! I told you, this is an emergency! Can’t you give me his home phone number?”

            “I’m sorry, Mr. Starsky. We can’t give out that information to the public, for security reasons.”

            Starsky ran his fingers through his curls and tried to speak rationally. “Then can you have him call me at home? It’s urgent that I speak with him.”

            He could hear the Sergeant sigh. “OK, give me your number and I’ll call him right away.”

            Starsky dropped the receiver back in its cradle, cursing fluently. He paced around his apartment, agitated.  Come on, damn it! Call me!

            Miraculously, the phone rang just a few minutes later. He snatched it up and started talking immediately.

            “Hutch, you gotta get over there! He’s at it again! He’s going to kill her!”

            “Damn it, Starsky, calm down! Now, take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on.”

            Starsky forced himself to speak slowly. “I can feel her. She’s terrified. He’s there and he’s going to kill her.”

            “Do you know who it is?”

            “It’s Sabrina Abernathy. She handles the jewelry accounts.”

            “Do you know where she lives? I don’t have the information on the female employees, remember.”

            “Um, she lives on the beach, in half of an old duplex. The other half caught fire a few years ago, and she bought it and tore it down. So, she’s pretty isolated. Damn it, I don’t know the exact address. Hold on, let me look.” He snatched the phone book from its place on the shelf and frantically turned the pages. Come on; come on; where is it? “OK, here it is. It’s 1432 Venice Beach road.”

            “I’m not far from there. Thank God for that, anyway. Here’s what I want you to do: you call Dobey and tell him what you told me. His number is 555-6772. Then you sit tight and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

            “No, way, man! I want to be there if you catch this guy.”

            “Starsky, you can’t. To say that this guy is armed and dangerous would be putting it mildly. There’s no way in Hell that I’ll let you put yourself in that much danger. Sit tight! I’ll call as soon as I can.”

            Starsky groaned as the line went dead. “Oh, God, hurry up, Hutch!”

He thumbed the hook to break the connection then dialed Dobey’s number. Breathlessly, he repeated what he’d told Hutch. Dobey replied with a brusque “Got it.” He ran his fingers through his hair as the line went dead again then flopped into the recliner. Taking deep breaths, he concentrated on the terrifying scene in his mind.

 

The phantom cackled. “What’s the matter, Sabrina? Where’s your precious entourage now? You’re all alone, aren’t you?”

            “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

            “I mean, where are your friends, the members of your clique? You all think you’re so special! You won’t let anyone else in.”

            “It’s not like that. I have lots of friends. Who are you? Why would you want to hurt me?”

            The phantom took off his hat. “There! Do you recognize me now? I wanted to be your friend, too. But you wouldn’t even have a lousy cup of coffee with me! You were too busy with the other snobs. You told me to go away, that you were too busy. You laughed at me!”

            She held her hand up in front of her mouth. “I didn’t mean anything by it! I thought you were just joking around. Look, I’ll make you a cup of coffee right now. We can talk all you want.”

            He hissed at her. “It’s too late! You thought you were so much better than me. All I wanted was to fit in, but you laughed at me!”

 

            Hutch slammed the receiver back on its hook and hastily pulled on a pair of pants and shirt, slipping on his shoes without bothering to put on socks. He put his shoulder holster back on and grabbed his jacket on his way out the door.  The detective breathed a sigh of relief as he sped toward the address Starsky had given him. Thankfully, Sabrina Abernathy’s home was only a few miles from his apartment. Traffic was sparse and he chanted to himself as he took corners on two wheels.

            “Let me make it in time. Dear God, let me make it in time.”

 

            She ran for her bedroom as he lunged toward her, but he caught her before she could close the door and lock it. As she fell against the bed, he screamed at her.

            “You’ll be sorry that you laughed at me! By the time I’m through with you, your precious friends won’t want you anywhere near them. You’ll be an outcast, just like me. In a little while, they won’t even remember your name. Just like me!”

            He raised his knife and charged at her. As the knife rose and fell, he chanted over and over again.

            “You laughed at me! You laughed at me! You laughed at me!”

            Later, as she lay on the floor beside her bed, his tears mixed with her blood.

            “Why did you laugh at me?”

            Dipping his gloved fingers in her blood, he wrote the message on the wall: Rejected.

 

            Starsky sat up with a groan. “NOOO!”

            Defying Hutch’s orders, he dressed quickly then grabbed his keys and ran out the door. He knew it was already too late for Sabrina, but he was determined that he would get to the scene as soon as possible. If he got there right after the phantom left, maybe he could pick up something from the carnage.

 

            Hutch turned off the siren as he sped up the small driveway to Sabrina’s condo. Everything seemed peaceful as he ran up to the front door. He took out his gun and stood to one side before he knocked.

            “Miss Abernathy? This is the police. Sabrina? Are you in there?”

            He waited, listening for any sounds emanating from the house. The only noise he heard were insects and waves gently hitting the beach a few yards away. Cautiously, he walked around the duplex to the back. The only light came from the moon and a lone security light. He stiffened when he saw the door was slightly ajar. There was light coming from what he assumed was the living room, casting a faint glow in the kitchen. Slowly, he made his way through the house. Quietly, he called out again.

            “Sabrina? I’m Lieutenant Ken Hutchinson, with the Bay City P. D. Can you hear me?”

            Rational thought warred with his desire to find the young woman. Hutch knew he should wait for back up, but worried that the phantom had already made his move. If Sabrina were hurt, it was imperative that he act quickly. Exhaling slowly to compose himself, he went farther into the house. Fortunately, there was enough light to navigate the rooms since he’d neglected to bring a flashlight. When he went into the front room, he could tell that there had been a struggle. Cursing softly, he crept toward the other end of the condo.

            “Sabrina?”

            The door on his right was closed, so he gripped the door knob and turned it gently. It turned easily, so he pushed the door open and stood against the wall. There was enough light from the living room for him to see the boxes and furniture that littered the interior. Plainly, Sabrina used this room for storage. Leaving the door ajar, he turned his attention to room he assumed was Sabrina’s bedroom. From his vantage point, he could see the door was already open. He flattened himself against the wall and tried to look in the room.

            He could see her bed, and part of her dresser, but that was all. He focused his hearing on the room, listening for any sounds of movement. The house was so quiet that he could hear himself breathing. Slowly, he inched into the room. He was only a few feet inside when he saw a foot sticking out from beside the bed. He covered the distance in two strides, bringing Sabrina’s body into view.

            “Damn it!”

Still holding his weapon, he kneeled down beside the body. It was obvious that she was dead, but he put a finger on her carotid artery, anyway. Suddenly, he heard a noise behind him, and turned his head in time to see a large object coming toward him.

 

Starsky squealed around another corner and tromped on the gas pedal as he raced toward Venice Beach road. A sudden flash exploded in his head, nearly causing him to lose control of the Torino. He hit the brakes instinctively and slammed the gear shift into Park as waves of nausea and pain washed over him. The psychic grunted and clutched his head, panting as he tried to control the assault to his senses. His eyes widened as realization struck.

“Oh, no! Huuuuuutch!”

Sparing only the briefest glance over his shoulder, he put the car in gear and rushed toward the duplex. When he got to the narrow road that led to Sabrina’s home, he slowed as the flashing lights of several squad cars came into view. He stopped the car and jumped out, running toward the entrance. Two uniformed policemen stopped him before he could enter.

“Hey, hold on a minute! You can’t go in there.”

He pushed against their arms. “You don’t understand! I have to get in there! Let me go!”

He was still struggling with them when he heard a gruff voice from inside the room.

“It’s OK, let him through.”

Starsky pushed his way between them and ran into the living room. Hutch was sitting on the couch, a bloody towel held to his head. Starsky knelt down in front of him.

“Are you OK? I felt him hit you.”

Hutch nodded slightly, wincing at the pain the movement caused. “Yeah, I’m all right.” He looked up at the psychic. “Damn it, I was too late, Starsky! He must have been hiding behind the door. I was checking Sabrina for a pulse when he came from behind and knocked me in the head.”

Starsky lowered his head as he remembered his vision. “I know. I saw what happened.”

Slowly, he got up and walked toward the bedroom door. Dobey stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“You can’t go in there. It’s a crime scene now. And trust me, you don’t want to.”

Starsky met his eyes. “I don’t have a choice. If I can see the room, I might pick up something from him.” He slammed his fist in his hand. “Damn it, don’t you see? We’re out of time! We’ve been chasing this bastard long enough. He stays one step ahead of his and he’s knocking off these people like flies. All your files and your computers aren’t going to do you any good! There’s only one person that can find him and you’re looking at him.”

Hutch forced himself off the sofa and stood behind the psychic.

“He’s right, Harold. He’s killed three people now and he’s not going to stop until we find him. Let him in.”

Dobey started to protest then relented. He pointed a finger at Starsky.

“OK, you can go in, but don’t touch anything!”       

            Starsky nodded briefly then walked into the bedroom. His breath hitched painfully when he saw the still form beneath the sheet. He closed his eyes. I’m sorry, Sabrina Oh, God, I’m so sorry!

            He said a silent farewell then turned his attention to the room. Surprisingly, most of the furniture was untouched by the vicious attack. Only the bed and the floor surrounding it were splattered with blood. His eyes covered the room slowly then focused on the message on the wall. Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes and concentrated.

            “It’s the same old song. He’s furious because he thinks she snubbed him. He only wants to belong. Sabrina was talking to some of the other girls in her department when he walked up to her. He tried to join the conversation, but they just looked at him with blank stares. He was kidding around with them, trying to break the ice. When he asked them out for a cup of coffee, they all laughed at him. I can feel his embarrassment. He stammers a good-bye and turns to leave, but he knocks some stuff off her desk, making things worse. He starts to bend down to pick it up, but she waves him away. He’s convinced they think he’s a moron now. When he goes home, he’s still smarting about what happened. The more he thinks about it, the angrier he gets. Finally, he snaps, losing control, and he comes after her.”

            Starsky shook himself and gazed at Hutch. “There’s another problem. He knows you’re onto him now and he’s furious about it. He thinks you should go after them, not him. He doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong. They’re the enemy, and now you are, too.”

            Hutch rolled his eyes. “That’s just wonderful.” Then he asked the only question on his mind. “Can you see his face? Can you tell who it is?”

            “I could see him for a second, when he sneaked up behind you. But the light was wrong. I get the impression that he’s young, close to my age or younger. There’s something different about his face, something on it. Maybe they’re scars, like acne scars from when he was a teenager. I’m not sure. I can’t see him good enough to tell.”

            Dobey stared at the message scrawled on the wall as if it held the answers. He snapped his fingers reflexively as he thought.

            “OK, we know a little more than we did now. You said there were other people with the victim when he approached her. Maybe they’ll remember the incident and can tell us who this psycho is.”

            Hutch pointed his finger at his friend. “Maybe they will at that. And we know that he’s young, and has some kind of distinguishing marks on his face. We’re getting closer to this son of a bitch. I can feel it.”

            Dobey nodded agreement. “It’s late, and I don’t want to spook anybody, so we’ll go to O’Neil’s first thing in the morning. In the meantime, I want both of you to go home and get some rest. But first, I want you to go to the ER and get checked out, Hutch.”

            “Oh, no. I’m fine, Harold. I don’t want to spend the rest of the night in the ER, and besides, we don’t have the time to waste. A couple of aspirin and a few hours’ sleep will take care of this headache.”

            “Look, Hutch. He hit you pretty hard. You could have a concussion.”

            “I think my head’s a little harder than that. I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll grab some sleep and if I start feeling weird, I’ll go have the doc check me out.”

            Dobey growled. “Well, I won’t argue about how hard-headed you are. All right, but if you start feeling any worse, you’d damn well better high tail it to the hospital. And I don’t want you going back to your apartment tonight. I want you with somebody in case you start seeing double or something. Why don’t you come home with me? You can sleep in the den.”

            “Harold, do you know what time it is? Edith will have both our hides if we wake Cal and Rosie up. I’ll be OK. I’ll have Charlie call every couple of hours and check on me. If I don’t answer the phone, he can send an ambulance.”

            Starsky stepped in before Dobey could answer. “You can come home with me. I have a couch that makes into a bed. It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world, but you won’t be alone. And we can get an early start if we’re together.”

            Dobey and Hutch exchanged looks then Dobey nodded. “OK, but I don’t want you sitting up the rest of the night, talking. You both need some sleep. I don’t know which one of you looks worse.”

            Starsky looked at the blond and winked. “Is he always this supportive?”

            Hutch snorted. “Are you kidding? He’s on his best behavior because you’re a civilian.”

            Dobey glared unconvincingly at the two men. “Very funny. Go on; get out of here before I put you both in a cell so I can keep an eye on you.”

            Starsky put out a hand to steady Hutch as he turned toward the door. “We’re already gone.”

            Half an hour later, Hutch was lying comfortably on Starsky’s sofa, a clean sheet and spread covering him. Starsky was sitting in the recliner and both men were drinking tea. The brunet had decided against alcohol, considering the blond’s head injury. He regarded the detective with speculation.

            “Do you really think I need to wake you up every couple of hours?”

            Hutch glowered at him then finished his tea and handed him the cup. “No, I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ve bumped my head harder than this on the roof of my car. I’m fine, Starsk. I think we should follow Dobey’s orders and get some sleep.”

            Starsky took both cups to the kitchen and sat them in the sink. He yawned and stretched in agreement. “OK, I’m not sure I can sleep, but I’ll give it a try. If you need anything, just give a yell. And if you start feeling strange, wake me up, got it?”

            Hutch sighed as he laid his head on the pillow. “I got it. ‘Night, Starsk.”

            Starsky slept fitfully for while, tossing and turning as he tried to block out the night’s events. He sat up a little, fluffing his pillow in an attempt to get comfortable. The couch was facing away from him, but he could see the covers rise and fall as Hutch moved restlessly. He could sense the thoughts of the other man as he relaxed his guard.

            “Hutch, you awake?”

            “Yeah.”

            “You OK? Your head’s not worse is it?”

            “Nah, it’s all right. I guess I just can’t get this guy out of my mind.”

            Starsky lay on his back and threw an arm over his face. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He was quiet for a moment. “Hey, Hutch, how come you’re not married?”

            “Oh, I don’t know. The job, I guess. There aren’t many women that would put up with my crazy hours.”

            “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Who’s Vanessa?”

            The blond sat up and looked over the back of the couch. “I’m not sure I like being this close to a guy that can get inside my head.”

            “Sorry. So, who is she?”

            Hutch lay back down. “She was my ex-wife. We got married too young, I guess. The marriage didn’t last long. She was killed a couple of years ago, with my gun of all things. I damn near got fried for that one.”

            “I can imagine. You’ll have to tell me the whole story when this is over. You never found anyone else?”

            “No, no one that I wanted to get serious about anyway.”

            He sat up and looked at the brunet. “Hey, Starsk, when did you realize you were psychic?”

            Starsky got out of bed and went to sit beside the blond. “Oh, I don’t know. I always remember knowing things. You know, like when my mom was going to cook my favorite meal. I knew when my parents were planning on taking us somewhere special, and when to ask for a little more on my allowance. I always knew what I was getting for Christmas, but I learned real fast not to let on, even when I didn’t get everything I wanted. But it never occurred to me that I was different. I thought I was just a normal kid.”

            “So when did you realize you weren’t?”

            Starsky looked down at the worn fabric of the couch. “When I saw my Pop die. I was thirteen at the time. My dad was a security guard for this fancy office building. He took us to school in the mornings before he went to work, but he didn’t get off until five o’clock, so Ma always picked us up after school. Sometimes he worked late to pick up a little extra cash, so we weren’t worried at first when he didn’t come home on time that night. Ma just fed us then fixed him a plate and put it in the oven to keep it warm. I was in my room, doing my homework, when I got this horrible pain in my chest. I thought I was going to pass out. Before I could yell for Ma, the pain stopped. I realized it wasn’t me that was hurting. Then I saw my Pop. Our car was at the bottom of a ravine, and my dad was inside. Later, they told us that he must have had a massive heart attack. They said he was dead before the car went through the guard rail.”

            He turned to look at Hutch, his eyes haunted. “I think that was the longest night of my life. I wanted to tell Ma, but I couldn’t get the words out. I couldn’t even make myself go down stairs. So I sat on my bed and waited for the police to come. I kept hoping that it was all a bad dream. Every time a car came up the street, I prayed that it was my dad. But he never came.”

            He stood up and paced around the room, swiping at his eyes. “I never told anyone about that night, until we went to live with my grandma. She was my dad’s mom, and came from some little town in Bulgaria. She always called it ‘the old country’. We’d been living there for a couple of months when she came to me and told me that she knew I had second sight. I didn’t know what she was talking about until she explained it to me. She said her mother had it, too, but she thought we’d lost it because she didn’t have it. She told me it was a gift, but after what happened to my dad, I didn’t believe her. Then she told me it would be our secret and never to tell anyone else. I never have, until now. But I can tell you this much; I can’t count the number of times that I wished I didn’t have it. Grandma was wrong. It’s not a gift, it’s a curse.”

            He turned around and gazed at Hutch. “So now you know the whole sordid story. We’re not meant to know the future, and if I could give it up, I would in a heartbeat.”

            Hutch closed the distance between them and laid a hand on Starsky’s shoulder.

            “I’m sorry. That must have been horrible for you. I can’t imagine what it was like.”

            Starsky shrugged and smiled tentatively. “Yeah, well, we all have our own demons to fight, I guess.”

            The blond looked into indigo eyes. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

            Starsky met the blue eyes and nodded slowly. He could sense the weight of the other man’s thoughts. Memories swirled in bits and pieces between them. Disturbing images whirled in his head, images of another bedroom, and ropes biting into wrists. He caught a flash of pain and a shame that was buried deep in the other’s soul. A name rose unbidden in the detective’s mind, burning with hatred and loathing: Forest. He longed to ask what it all signified, but in deference to the budding friendship, held his tongue. There would be time for revelations later and if Hutch wanted to tell him, he would. Instead, he stepped away, breaking the contact, and smiled.

            “Well, I think we should try to get back to sleep. Dobey will have our asses in the morning if we don’t try to get some rest.”

            “You got that right.” Hutch crawled back under the covers and turned on his side. “Good night, Starsk.”

            Starsky went back to his own bed and climbed in. “’Night, Hutch.”

            Hours later, Hutch opened his eyes and took stock of his condition. The headache was still there, but manageable. His back was a little stiff from sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, but otherwise he was ready to face another day. We’re right on your heels, Mr. Phantom. You’d better watch your back, because we’re coming after you.

            Starsky was already up, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee by his elbow. He got up and took another mug from the cabinet, filling it with the strong brew. He put it down and motioned at the other chair.

            “Good morning. How’s the head?”

            “It’s not bad, actually. I think I’ll live. Did you get any sleep?”

            “Yeah, a little. Hey, you want some breakfast? I had a couple of pieces of pizza earlier. There’s still some in the fridge, if you want it. Oh, the bathroom’s that way, if you want to freshen up a little.”

            Hutch’s stomach rolled at the mention of pizza for breakfast. “Nah, that’s OK. I’m not much for breakfast. I’ll get something later. But I will take you up on that offer to get cleaned up.”

            He finished the coffee and went into the bathroom. Well, I don’t have any clean clothes, so a shower is out of the question. I’ll just have to settle for washing up a bit. Maybe I can swing by my place later and grab a shower.

            He did the best he could then went back to sit with Starsky, and looked him over carefully.

            “So, do you think you’re ready to catch this guy? You gave us the best lead we’ve gotten so far last night. With any luck, we’ll know who he is before the day is over.”

            “Are you kidding? I was ready three days ago. The sooner we get him the better we can all sleep at night.”

He glared bemusedly at the lieutenant as the events of the previous night came back to him.

”Oh, by the way, do you know what I had to go through to get that desk Sergeant to call you last night? He acted like your number was a state secret or something. That was a Hell of a time to realize that I didn’t have it, and I don’t even know where you live.”

            Hutch had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry, things have been so hectic that I forgot to give it to you.”

He took a card from his wallet and wrote on the back of it and handed it to Starsky. “That’s my number and my address. Charlie was only doing his job. We stopped giving out private numbers a while back. You’d be surprised how many disgruntled ex-cons would love a chance to get back at the cops that put them away.”

Starsky took the card and read the information on the back of it. He put it in his wallet for safe-keeping. “Yeah, I guess I can understand that. But I really don’t want to go through that whole rigmarole again if I need to get a hold of you fast.” He grinned good-naturedly. “Even psychics have to communicate the old-fashioned way sometimes.”

Hutch laughed and nodded as he stood up. “You have a point there. Come on; I want to swing by the station and check in with Dobey before we head for O’Neil’s.”

            “Sounds good to me. Let’s go.”

 

 

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