Tomorrows1

All of Their Tomorrows

   Detective Sergeant Ken Hutchinson stood in the center of the room.
    "You can't be serious, Simonetti! Carl Berger has been a cop for 27 years. Why would he go bad now?"
    Internal Affairs Officer Alex Simonetti scowled at the blonde detective. His blue eyes flashed.
    "What's it to you, Hutchinson? He's a vice cop. He's not even a part of your precious Task Force. What are you, his guardian angel?"
    Detective Sergeant David Starsky moved up to stand beside his partner. The calmness of his voice belied his smoldering anger.
    "We're not anybody's guardian angels, Simonetti. Carl is a good cop. He's gotten more commendations than I can count. There's never been a hint of corruption linked to his name. We just hate to see a good cop railroaded by IA. What's the matter? Is business so slow that you have to invent something to investigate?"
    IA Officer Bill Dryden moved to his partner's side. "We don't have to invent anything, Starsky. Just because he's been on the force for a long time doesn't mean he can't go bad. It won't be the first time that it's happened and I'm sure that it won't be the last."
   Starsky and Hutch glanced at each other. They both knew that Dryden was right. They'd both had experience with bad cops. A detective didn't have to be "green" to get tired of the slime he came in contact with every day. However, Carl Berger was a different story. Though he worked in one of the most difficult departments on the police force, he had resisted the temptation of easy money throughout his career. He'd been married to his childhood sweetheart for over thirty years, and had two grown children. His wife, Ellen, was an interior decorator with her own successful business. Their children had gone to college and then moved to the East Coast to embark on their own careers.
    Hutch inhaled slowly and forced himself to calm down. He tried to reason with the IA team.
    "Look, Simonetti, we've checked Carl out. He doesn't gamble; he's not over his head in debt; both he and his wife are in good health; and the kids are doing well on their own. We even checked his bank accounts. They're consistent with Carl and Ellen's incomes. Exactly what makes you think he's on the take?"
    Simonetti growled. "Who the Hell told you to check him out? You're interfering in an investigation! I'm asking you again. Why? This isn't any of your business! Unless, you know something we don't and you're covering for him."
    Hutch retorted. "There isn't anything to cover for! Carl Berger is clean. What we want to know is, why do you think he's dirty?"
    Dryden tried to diffuse the anger in the room. "Berger has been working on the Troutman case. Are you familiar with it?"
    Starsky shrugged. "Yeah, Robbie Troutman was the high class hooker that got herself killed last month. Vice was supposed to be looking into her connection with that new dating service that just opened up. So far, they've got squat. So?"
    "That new dating service, as you called it, happens to have some very prominent people as its clients. Understandably, they don't want to be linked with a hooker. Even though the investigation has been going on for over a month, no solid leads have surfaced. Robbie Troutman isn't the only employee with a rap sheet. Still, Vice hasn't uncovered any suspects in the homicide. Don't you think that's a bit strange? We think one of the clients doesn't want the case to be solved, and we think said client has somebody in the department in his back pocket."
    Hutch snorted. "And you think that person is Carl Berger? Come on, Dryden. Aren't you reaching just a little for that one? I'm asking you again. What makes you so sure it's Berger?"
    Simonetti answered for his partner. "Because he knows some of the clients. I'm not going to give you any names, but some of them go way back with Berger. Now, they might survive the scandal if they're linked with the dating service, but not if they're linked with a homicide as well. If the case goes on long enough, it will be stashed away in the dead case files. Since the victim was a hooker, who's going to care? The clients will get what they want, and Berger's career won't be hurt by one cold case. Everybody wins, except the dead girl. One less hooker in town won't hurt anybody's feelings."
    "If that's all you've got to go on, Simonetti, you're worse off than we thought. You can't haul somebody up on charges simply because they go way back with the wrong people. Starsky and I go way back with half the perps in this town, but that doesn't mean we're on the take."
    Simonetti sneered. "As far as I'm concerned, that's debatable. Maybe it just means that you're careful and Berger isn't. Maybe he isn't as experienced as you two are."
    Hutch snarled and lunged at Simonetti. Starsky pulled him back before he could strike the IA Officer. He threw a disgusted look at Simonetti.
    "Come on, Hutch. It ain't worth it. They're makin' this up as they go along. If that's all they got, Berger ain't got anything to worry about. Let's go. We're wasting our time with these two clowns."
    Hutch cast one last baleful glance at Simonetti, then allowed Starsky to tow him from the room. The two detectives walked down the hall to the Task Force offices. An older man with greying hair caught their attention.
    Starsky called out, "Hey, Carl, what's up?"
    Carl Berger smiled at the younger detectives, and then frowned at the two IA Officers standing behind them. He dismissed Simonetti and Dryden with a glance, then walked over to Starsky and Hutch.
    "We finally solved the Troutman case, Starsk. Robbie's ex-pimp heard she'd moved up in the world and decided to cash in on her good fortune. He knew Robbie didn't believe in banks, so he figured she had her money stashed somewhere in her apartment. Apparently, she came home too early and caught him trashing her digs. They started fighting, and he conked her over the head with the lamp. Dino's not only mean, he's a little stupid, too. He got so excited when he found the money that he ran out of the room and left the door standing wide open. When Robbie's next trick showed up for his appointment, he found Robbie. It's taken him all this time to screw up enough courage to come forward. He said that he'd rather eat a little crow than have Dino come after him. When the DA hears the name of our witness, the poor man's gonna have a cow."
    Starsky grinned. "I can believe that, considering some of the people we've all ready contacted. Good work, Carl!"
    "Thanks, Starsky. And thank-you too, Hutch. I really appreciate you standing up for me with IA. I've never been investigated before, and it was kind of scary. I've only got three years to go and then I can retire. Ellen and I want to move closer to the kids, and I wouldn't have been able to do that if I lost my pension. Any time you need a favor, just ask. I mean it, guys, anything you need."
    Hutch held out his hand, and Carl shook it. "Don't worry about it, Carl. We knew you were in the clear. I'm glad you solved the case, though. I guess Dino wasn't the brainiest pimp in town, was he?"
    Carl laughed. "He sure wasn't, Hutch." Then he winked at the two detectives and turned to Simonetti.
    "Hey, Simonetti, you know Harold Parker, don't you?"
    Simonetti narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, I know him. He's a security consultant for Macy's. We play racket ball at the health club every week or so. Why?"
    Carl reached into his jacket and pulled out a small notebook. He tossed it to the IA Officer. "We found Robbie's little black book in the glove compartment of Dino's car. Harold's name is on page three. Since there's a gold star beside his name, I'd say he was a very satisfied customer."
    Hutch looked at Starsky, then laughed out loud. He pointed his finger at Simonetti.
    "Looks like you go way back with the wrong people too, Simonetti. Maybe you need to investigate yourself."
    Starsky grinned. "Yeah, and give the rest of us a break for a change."
   The curly haired detective clapped Carl on the back and walked into the office with Hutch right behind him. They were still laughing when the door closed .
    Neither man saw the hateful glare that bored into their backs. Alex Simonetti curled his lip and cursed the two detectives under his breath.

Part 1

   Later that afternoon, while Starsky and Hutch were out to lunch, Simonetti and Dryden stormed into the Task Force offices. Captain Harold Dobey was the head of the Task Force created by the Commissioner.
    Simonetti got right to the point. "Captain, you need to control your men. Starsky and Hutchinson are interfering in an Internal Affairs investigation, again! They checked out Carl Berger's background without permission and jeopardized the entire case. I demand that you reprimand them and tell them to stay out of IA's business!"
    Dryden cringed at his partner's choice of words and waited for the explosion to follow. He didn't have to wait long.
    Dobey threw the pen down that he was holding and leaned forward. "You DEMAND? Who the Hell do you think you are, Simonetti? Starsky and Hutchinson were looking into the Troutman case at the request of the Commissioner. We've been watching Matchmaker's Incorporated for a while now, and when that hooker was killed, the Commissioner wanted us to follow the case closely. There are a lot of prominent figures in this city that are going to have egg all over their faces, and he didn't want the added scandal of a corrupt cop to make it even worse. Starsky and Hutch were doing their job when they checked Carl out. This Task Force has jurisdiction over any case to which the Commissioner assigns us and that includes the Troutman case! I suggest you come down off your high horse and remember who you're talking to!"
    Simonetti backed up a step. He looked at Dryden for help, but the black man wisely kept silent. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice.
    "Nobody told us the Commissioner was involved. Why didn't Starsky and Hutch say anything about that when I talked to them? Exactly what kind of game are they playing now?"
    Dobey rose up out of his chair. "Maybe they didn't tell you because it was none of your business! You aren't in command of this Task Force. I AM! Now, get the Hell out of my office before you find a reprimand in your file, Detective!"
    Simonetti started to reply, but Dryden put his hand out. "Come on, Alex. Let's get out of here and I'll try to help you pry your foot out of your mouth."
    He made an apologetic face at the Captain, and pushed Simonetti out the door ahead of him. As soon as they were safely down the hall, Dryden turned to his partner.
    "You know, Alex, the next time you get a death wish, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know. I happen to like my head right where it is."
    Simonetti glared at the door behind them. "He's always covering up for them! Mark my words, Bill. Some day, I'm going to take Starsky and Hutch down, and with a little luck, I'll take Dobey down with them. I don't know how I'll do it, or when, but someday."
    Starsky and Hutch spent the remainder of the day doing the paperwork on their end of the Troutman case. Matchmaker's Incorporated was a thinly veiled prostitution ring that hid behind posh offices and pseudo-legal advertising. If it weren't for their impressive list of clients, the whole thing would have been left for Vice to handle. However, when Robbie Troutman was murdered, it made a lot of people nervous. Their careers were on the line, so they went running to the Commissioner for help. As always, the Commissioner turned to the Task Force. The two detectives had spent most of their time doing damage control by gently suggesting that it would be wise for the "clients" to distance themselves from the agency. After doing that, and clearing Carl Berger's name, they gladly sent the case back to Vice.
    That evening, they logged out and went to the Pits. Huggy Bear was waiting for them. Huggy was the owner of the bar, and a long time friend.
    "Well, if it isn't the dynamic duo! What it is, fellas?"
    Starsky grinned. "Hi, Hug. How's it goin'? Are Tracy and Micki here yet? We were supposed to meet them for dinner. We're a little late."
    Huggy snorted. "And that's something new? I tell ya, when you guys get married, it's going to be Hell gettin' you all to the church on time. When it gets closer to the big day, I'm going to suggest to Dobey that he put you all in protective custody. At least we'll know where you are then."
    Hutch chuckled. "Dobey might just go along with that. It's yours and Dobey's job as best men to make sure the wedding starts on time. So, are they here yet?"
    Huggy's eyes sparkled. "Nope. You're in luck, my blonde brother. The girls called a while ago. Dobey caught them as they were headed out the door. He said he had something important to talk to them about."
    "Did they say what it was about?"
    "Nope. They just said for you to go ahead and grab something to eat, and they'd be here ASAP."
    Starsky shrugged. "Well, that's good enough for me. Let's grab a table, Hutch. I'm starved."
    Hutch rolled his eyes. "To paraphrase Huggy, 'and that's something new'? Come on, Gordo. Let's get you something to eat before you die of starvation. Hopefully, the girls will be here, soon."
    The duo seated themselves at a nearby table and ordered something to eat. Huggy brought it to them and joined them for a bit. Hutch told him about the run in with the IA detectives and about Carl Berger's little surprise for Simonetti.
    Huggy shook his head. "Those cats have been after you two for a long time. I don't get it. You guys are so clean that you give this place a bad name when you walk in the door. What did you do to make them so pissed at you?"
    Starsky shoved another French fry in his mouth and gestured with his hands. "Who knows? They don't like the way me and Hutch do things, I guess. We don't always go by the book, and Simonetti acts like he wrote the damn thing. Maybe we insult his integrity, or somethin'."
    Hutch laughed. "That's a good one, partner. I'll have to remember that. Of course, let us not forget who handcuffed Dryden to my kitchen table. That didn't exactly endear us to them, either."
    Huggy helped himself to a fry. "But you guys found out who murdered Vanessa and you helped put that guy away. So Dryden got his nose out of joint a little. That still doesn't explain their personal crusade to trash your careers."
    Hutch shook his head. "I think Dryden just put the whole thing down to experience. He doesn't seem to be the one carrying a grudge. Simonetti is the one who keeps going off the deep end. Let's face it, Hug, We just rub each other the wrong way. We could be as straight as an arrow and he still wouldn't be satisfied."
    Huggy spread his hands out. "All I know is those two dudes are bad news. I sure wouldn't want to be on their bad side."
    Starsky snickered. "Trouble is, Hug, I don't think they have a good side. But, don't worry. Hutch and me know how to take care of ourselves."
    "I hope so, Curly. Just watch your backs, though. This establishment would be too quiet without you two."
    Hutch grinned at his partner. "Awww, I think he likes us, Starsk."
    The three men spent the next few minutes talking as they waited for Micki and Tracy. Hutch's expression grew serious when he saw the two women come in the door.
    "Uh oh, whatever Dobey had to tell them, I don't think it was good news."
    Micki Ellis and Tracy Edwards were not in the best of moods when they walked into the Pits. Micki walked up to Hutch and put her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He traded a glance with Starsky and held her close. Starsky shrugged as Tracy embraced him. Hutch held Micki close for a minute, then helped her sit down.
    He kept his voice gentle. "What's wrong, Mick?"
    Micki put her elbow on the table and propped her chin up with her hand. She sighed.
    "I really hate this job sometimes."
    Huggy looked sympathetic. "Can I get you something to soothe your psyche, Irish?"
    Micki looked up at her friend. "Yeah, a slow gin fizz. Heavy on the gin and light on the fizz."
    Huggy looked at her like she'd told him the earth was flat. "Are you sure about that, Micki? That stuff packs a hidden punch if you're not used to it, which you're not."
    Tracy nodded. "Make that two, Hug. I think it's time we got used to it."
    Hutch looked at the Bear. "Bring them something to eat, too, Hug. Booze isn't good on an empty stomach."
    Huggy nodded and went to get their orders. Hutch turned to the girls.
    "OK, spill it. What's wrong?"
    Tracy rubbed the back of her neck, trying to ease the tension. "Have you ever heard of a man by the name of George Stanley?"
    Starsky thought for a moment, then nodded. "He was arrested for raping two or three teen age girls, wasn't he? That was about the same time we graduated from the Academy."
    "Yeah, they gave him fifteen to twenty. He came up for parole a few weeks ago. Micki and I were assigned to his case. We evaluated him, and recommended against parole. He showed no signs of remorse and we got the impression that he'd do it again as soon as he got out. We submitted our report to the parole board last week. Dobey got their decision today. That's what he wanted to talk to us about."
    Hutch frowned. "Don't tell me. They ruled against you and granted him parole."
    Micki nodded. "You got it. He conned them completely. They should have given him an Oscar for his performance. We fought them tooth and nail, but what do we know? We're young, and we're female. We couldn't possibly know more than a bunch of grey haired old men."
    "I wish I could say you were wrong about that, but I know how tough it's been for you and Tracy. It's still a man's world in some ways, Mick. You just have to keep fighting. It will get better, I promise."
    Micki sighed. "Yeah, and in the meantime, a serial rapist is going back on the street. I'll bet that he isn't out more than a month before he's back to his old habits."
    Tracy nodded. "Yep, and there isn't a damned thing we can do about it."
    Micki looked at her partner. "Sounds like a good reason to tie one on to me."

    Hutch moaned under his breath and opened his eyes. He looked over at the small form sleeping beside him. Micki lay on her side, snuggled up against him. A small frown creased his face as he looked around the room. This definitely wasn't their apartment. Hutch raised himself up on one elbow and nudged Micki gently.
    "Micki, wake up. Come on, wake up."
    Micki groaned and opened her eyes. "What? What's wrong, Ken?"
    "I don't think we're in Kansas any more, Toto."
    Micki put her hands on her head. "Oh, my head! What did you say?"
    "I said, where are we? We're not home, that's for sure."
    Micki sat up and looked around the room. The furniture and the decor penetrated her fogged mind.
    "We're in a hotel room. Why?"
    Hutch shrugged. "You got me, kid. The last thing I remember is being at the Pits, with Starsky and Tracy. I have no idea how we got here, or why."
    "Well, don't ask me! I don't remember anything else, either."
    Hutch sat up and held his head in his hands. "All I can say is it must have been some party. I haven't had a hangover like this in years."
    "I think I've got some aspirin in my purse, if I can find it."
    Micki started opening the drawers in the nightstand. Her small handbag lay in the top drawer. As she took it out, a piece of paper that was lying underneath caught her attention. She squinted her eyes against the throbbing in her head.
    "Las Vegas? What the Hell are we doing in Las Vegas? And how did we get here?"
    Hutch took the hotel stationary from her. He shook his head, then winced at the pain that the movement caused.
    "I have no idea, but we need to figure this out. I guess it's a good thing we were supposed to be off duty for the next few days. Maybe we can figure it out by then."
    "Yeah, and figure out a way to get back home. Look, why don't you make some coffee? There's a coffee pot on the dresser. Maybe it will help clear the cobwebs from our minds."
    "OK. We can wash those aspirin down with the coffee."
    "Sounds good to me. I'm going to splash some water on my face. I won't be long."
    Micki grabbed her purse and went into the bathroom. Hutch slipped into his trousers and walked over to the coffee pot. As the coffee was brewing, another piece of paper caught his eye. He picked it up and read it, then blinked. He shook his head, ignoring the pain this time, and read it again.
    "Uh, Micki? Hey, Mick! I think you'd better take a look at this!"
    Micki came out of the bathroom, her hand still holding her head. "God, Ken. Don't yell! I think my head's going to explode."
    "Sorry, but you need to look at this."
    Hutch handed her the paper, then watched as she read it. Her green eyes widened and she looked up at him. Together, they backed up to the bed and sat down.
    They both spoke at the same time. "Oh my God, we're married!"
    Micki looked at the marriage certificate like it was a snake. She shook her head glumly. "My mom is going to kill us."
    Hutch nodded morosely. "Everybody's going to kill us. We've had this big double wedding planned for months. Now what do we do?"
    Micki groaned. "Has anybody ever overdosed on aspirin?"
    Hutch rolled his eyes. "I don't think so. Still, we do have our guns. Some where."
    "Oh, that's good. I can see the headlines now. 'Detectives commit double suicide after eloping'. Why don't we just concentrate on trying to get out of here? We can figure out what we're going to do after we get home."
    Before Hutch could answer, the telephone rang, making them jump. Hutch grabbed the offending instrument and answered it.
    "Hello?"
    The voice on the other end was irritatingly cheerful. "Well, how's the newlyweds doin' this morning?"
    "Starsky? Where the Hell are you?"
    "Right down the hall, in 314. How's your head this morning, partner?"
    Hutch sighed. "OK, Starsk, spill it. What happened last night? How did we get to Vegas, and how did we manage to get married?"
    Starsky laughed. "You mean you don't remember, buddy? I'm not surprised. You and Micki sure tied one on last night. Tracy quit after two drinks, so you decided to join Micki so she wouldn't be drinkin' alone. You guys decided that you didn't want to wait to tie the knot, and were going to drive down. Neither one of you was exactly in the right shape to drive. So, we flew. We tried to talk you out of it, but you weren't having any of that. Tracy and I came along to keep an eye on you two. Don't worry, the marriage is legal. You already had your marriage license and the blood tests, so there wasn't any problems."
    "No problems? How about the hundred or so guests that expect to see us get married? Never mind. Can we just get out of here? I think I've had enough of Vegas for a while."
    He could tell Starsky was grinning by his voice. "Sure. That's why I called. If you think you can handle some food, we've got time for a quick bite before our plane leaves. And I wouldn't worry too much about the guests. You can just tell'em this was a dry run."
    "Gee, thanks, Starsk. I hadn't thought of that. Look, give us a few minutes, then we'll be ready. I'm not that hungry, but I sure don't want to get on that plane with a hangover and an empty stomach."
    "OK, see you in about fifteen minutes."
    Hutch hung up the phone and turned to his new wife. "Well, it's legal. Starsky said we decided to elope and they couldn't talk us out of it. They're in 314, down the hall. We have time for a quick breakfast, then it's back home to face the music."
    "And the condemned men get a last meal. Oh, well, I guess we might as well enjoy it. You sure you want to go back? Alaska is looking pretty good right now."
    "Don't tempt me. Starsky sounded too cheerful over the phone. I know he'll never let me live this one down."
    "Yeah, I can hear Tracy now. I guess it could be worse. People elope every day. That's what Vegas is for. We can still go on with the wedding. There's no law against marrying the same person twice, I think."
    Hutch snorted. "Let's hope not. Come on, we'd better get going. Starsky will be here in a few minutes."
    As they expected, there was a knock at the door a few minutes later. Starsky was still grinning as he and Tracy walked into the room. Hutch pointed a finger at him.
    "Don't even start. Let's just get out of here."
    Starsky laughed out loud and jerked his thumb at the door. "You got it, Blintz. I won't say a word. Let's go. I can hear some bacon and eggs callin' my name right now."
    As the two couples walked down the stairs, they heard a voice behind them.
    "Well, if it isn't the newlyweds. Congratulations, Hutchinson."
    All four detectives swung around to face the owner of the voice. Hutch spat out the words.
    "Simonetti! What are you doing here?"
    "I came down for a seminar. I got here a few hours before you did. I have to admit, the show you all put on was a lot more interesting than my seminar."
    Tracy spoke before Hutch could make a retort. "You can stop right there, Simonetti. We're off duty and this isn't IA's business."
    Simonetti leered at the blonde woman. "It is when a member of the Commissioner's precious Task Force makes a public spectacle of himself. You people walked in last night with all the finesse of a bull elephant. I'm surprised Security didn't throw you all out on your collective ears."
    Micki rolled her eyes. "Lighten up, Simonetti. Your stuffed shirt is showing."
    The other three snickered. Tracy nodded. "Yeah, you do look a little stiff. Micki and Hutch didn't commit any crimes, Simonetti. Everyone is entitled to blow off a little steam, even detectives."
    "We'll see if Lieutenant Griffey agrees with that. I think he'll go along with conduct unbecoming an officer, if nothing else. I'm finally going to get you, Hutchinson, and the rest of you, too."
    Micki shook her head. "Oh, come on, Simonetti! You can't be serious. I think you've been out in the sun too long. Your brain is fried."
    Simonetti grinned ferociously. "Very funny. We'll see who's laughing after I get back to town. Have a nice flight, everyone."
    He gave a small wave of his hand and walked out the door. Micki turned to her partner.
    "He's full of it. He can't really do anything, can he?"
    Tracy shrugged thoughtfully. "I don't think so, but who knows? I think we should get back home and talk to Dobey. I don't see how IA could get excited about the two of you eloping, but I don't trust Simonetti. He hates Ken and David enough to bend a few rules of his own."
    "Oh, that's great. Not only are our families going to kill us, we gotta worry about that nut, too."

The trip home was uneventful for the four detectives. Since Starsky had wisely left the Torino in Huggy's care, they took a cab back to the Pits. Micki's car was still parked beside Starsky's, so they made a date for dinner that evening, and went home.
    Hutch drove up to their apartment and opened the car door for Micki. After he unlocked the door to the apartment, he turned and swept Micki into his arms. She let out a delighted yelp.
    "Hey, what's this?"
    He kissed her and set her down on the other side. "Well, I figured that since we were married, the least I could do was carry you over the threshold."
    She smiled and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "Yeah, we kind of lost sight of that in the confusion. We are married, aren't we? You know what that means, don't you?"
    "I'm almost afraid to ask. What?"
    "It means that I've got you now, and I won't ever let you go."
    He took her in his arms. "Is that a promise, Mrs. Hutchinson?"
    She wrapped her arms around his neck. "You'd better believe it, Sergeant Hutchinson, and I never break a promise."
    The unpleasant memories of the last hours were forgotten as he took her into their bedroom and showed her what he thought about that. Hours later, they decided they'd better shower and get ready for their date with Starsky and Tracy. Huggy Bear would be the first person they told about their elopement. This was only fitting, because Huggy was a close friend of all four of them.
    When they told the proprietor of the Pits the news, he laughed and clapped his hands. "Well, this sounds like a good time for a celebration. Dinner and drinks are on me."
    Micki winced. "Dinner sounds great, Hug, but we'll skip the drinks for now, if you don't mind. I think I'm going on the wagon for a long, long, time."
    Huggy grinned. "Well, that has to be the shortest trip OFF the wagon in history. I dig what you're saying though. I guess you don't remember much about last night, do you?"
    "No, which is part of the reason we're going through with the double ceremony with David and Tracy. I only plan on getting married to one man, and I'd like to remember it."
    Hutch nodded. "Not to mention the fact that we're going to make a whole lot of people mad if we don't go through with it."
    Starsky looked thoughtful. "I wonder if Simonetti will crash this wedding?"
    Huggy frowned. "Simonetti? Why would he crash you guy's wedding? And what do you mean, THIS wedding?"
    Hutch explained. "It seems we had an uninvited guest last night. Simonetti was in Vegas for some kind of seminar and he saw us come in. I guess we put on a pretty good show. He's probably in Griffey's office right now, drumming up charges."
    Huggy looked skeptical. "For getting drunk and eloping? Hell, half the tourists in Vegas do the same thing. What kind of charges can that clown drum up?"
    Hutch shrugged. "We're cops, Huggy. We're supposed to conduct ourselves properly in public. I can't see Griffey going along with him, but Simonetti could be trouble. I sure don't want him digging around in old files. There's no telling what he could invent."
    The three men knew what Hutch was referring to, but Tracy and Micki were mystified.
    "What are you talking about, Ken? I know Simonetti and Dryden have been a thorn in your side for years, but you've always come out clean before now. He can't hurt you if there's nothing there."
    "I know, Mick, but he's like a dog with a bone. He won't let go until he gets all the meat. I just don't want him to come after you, too."
    "He won't, so don't worry. This is supposed to be a celebration. Let's forget about IA for tonight, OK? We can deal with Simonetti tomorrow."
    Huggy clapped his hands. "Sounds good to me. Let's par-tay!"
    The party was a roaring success, even though the guests of honor decided to stay sober. The two couples left the Pits before midnight and went home. They still had to break the news to Dobey. Hutch wasn't looking forward to telling his superior about Simonetti's reaction to their impromptu wedding.
    Meanwhile, Micki left to tell her family about their adventure. A staunch believer in a frontal assault, she didn't want to give them the news over the phone. She gladly left Dobey to her new husband as she and Tracy went to visit her family.
    Hutch was secretly relieved that Micki had let him and Starsky talk to Dobey alone. He knew Micki wouldn't have any problems with her family, and he wanted to talk to Dobey candidly about Simonetti's threats. Dobey was amused by the elopement, but not by Simonetti's appearance.
    Dobey's face wrinkled into a frown. "What the Hell was he doing in Las Vegas?"
    Hutch spread his hands out in front of him. "He said he was there for a seminar of some kind. Apparently, he saw the whole thing, and wasn't amused by our little show."
    "Well, it doesn't matter what he thought. You were off duty, and you weren't endangering yourself or anyone else by getting drunk and getting married. I wouldn't worry too much about his threats, Hutchinson."
    Hutch sat down in the chair and sighed. "I'm not worried about those threats, Captain. I'm worried about what he might find out if he starts digging into our past."
    Dobey sat back and stared thoughtfully at his detectives. "It's been six years, Hutch. No one knows what happened besides the three of us, and Huggy. Bernie has never talked about what he saw in that alley, so I don't think he's going to start now. Simonetti doesn't know anything."
    "I know that, Captain, or at least my head knows that. I just can't shake this feeling. Simonetti is after blood, and I don't think he'll stop at a trumped up charge that won't hold water."
    Starsky nodded slowly. "I agree with Hutch, Cap. Simonetti's had his panties in a wad ever since Vanessa was murdered. The DA didn't appreciate the egg on his face after we found Van's real killer. Swearing out a warrant on Hutch for Murder One wasn't exactly the best decision he's ever made. And you can bet the DA let Simonetti know how he felt."
    Dobey tilted his head at the brunette. "I know Simonetti's a little overzealous sometimes, but I can't believe that he's turned bad. Griffey will keep him under control. If he gives you a hard time, Hutch, let me know and I'll handle it. Don't antagonize him any further. Concentrate on the wedding, and your new bride. Simonetti will get tired of taking pot shots at you if you don't let it bother you. He'll find something else to occupy his time."
    Hutch made a wry face. "Or someone else. All right, Captain, I'll let it drop, for now. God knows I don't want him taking this out on Micki."
    Dobey softened his voice. "Have you told Micki about what happened?"
    Hutch looked down at the ring on his finger. "No. I've started to so many times, but I just can't do it. I know that she'd understand, but I can't. Maybe I'll find the nerve to tell her someday, but not now, not while Simonetti is stalking us."
    "You'll tell her, when the time is right. It's over, Hutch. You have to let it go sooner or later. It has nothing to do with who you are."
    "I know, Captain. Thanks. I haven't forgotten who helped me, either, and I never will. I owe you and Huggy, and Starsk, more than I can ever repay."
    Dobey allowed himself a rare smile. "So, you can start by getting out of my office and going home to Micki. We have a wedding to think about! It's time to celebrate, not worry. Now, go on, you two, get out of here!"
    The two detectives laughed and walked out of the office. Starsky turned to his partner.
    "Do you feel better now?"
    "Yeah, I guess so. Everything's been going so good, Starsk. I just don't want anything to ruin it."
    "It won't, buddy, I promise. We won't let it. Me and thee, remember?"
    Hutch smiled. "I remember."

The four detectives went back into their normal routine, waiting anxiously for the big day to arrive. Setting up a double wedding hadn't been easy. It would mean that all four of them would be gone for two full weeks, leaving only Simmons and Babcock to hold down the fort. Dobey had assured them that he would pull in other detectives as needed. The Task Force was getting more and more assignments as the Commissioner relied on the multi-jurisdictional department, instead of the typical ones in the precinct. The staff had grown from the three of them to six, and more would soon be needed anyway. With each successful case, the Task Force was acquiring a formidable reputation.
    Exactly one week after Hutch and Micki's elopement, Starsky and Hutch were sitting in the blonde detective's apartment, waiting for the girls to arrive. Most of the arrangements for the wedding were finished, with only a few details remaining. The biggest hurdle had already been solved: they were going to have a non-denominational wedding in the park near Micki's mother's home. Since Starsky was Jewish, Hutch was Lutheran, and Micki and Tracy were Baptists, a religious ceremony would have been a nightmare to coordinate. So, in order to preserve the peace in the four families, they had chosen a Justice of the Peace to perform the actual ceremony. Gary Owens was a long time friend of the two male detectives, and had been only too happy to offer his services. Huggy Bear had already agreed to cater the reception, in addition to being Starsky's best man. It had seemed only fitting to have Captain Dobey as Hutch's best man. Dobey had often referred to Starsky and Hutch as "my boys", and was touched by the offer. He had watched them grow from two brash, young detectives to two seasoned professionals. Of course, he had covered up his true emotions by gruffly telling Edith that "it's about time they settled down with two nice girls".
    The two men took advantage of the girls' absence by finishing the arrangements for the honeymoon. By carefully avoiding the subject whenever Micki and Tracy were around, they had managed to keep their destination a secret. Tracy's mother, and Micki's, had offered to pack a suitcase for each bride a few days before the wedding. The bride's wouldn't know where they would be going until after the wedding.
    As they talked, Hutch prepared dinner for the four of them. The two women would be home soon, and dinner would create a nice diversion, away from the subject of the honeymoon. He had just put the casserole in the oven when the phone rang.
    Starsky groaned. "I knew it! It's been too quiet lately. Either that's Dobey, or Tracy, telling us we've got another assignment."
    Hutch tried to sound hopeful. "Maybe not. Maybe they're just letting us know they're on the way home."
    Starsky snorted. "Dream on, Blondie."
    Hutch picked up the receiver. "Hutchinson."
    "Hutch? It's Dobey. I think you'd better get down to the Main Street Deli right away. The address is 864 South Main."
    "What's going on, Captain?"
    "Adam 51 called in a dead body about twenty minutes ago. From the description, it looks like George Stanley is at it again."
    "Stanley?! He's been out for how long, a week?"
    "Almost two, but that doesn't matter. Micki and Tracy were here when the call came in, and they took off before I could stop them. I don't have to tell you how they felt about Stanley's release. We've got an APB out on Stanley, but I think you'd better run interference in case the press shows up. There's going to be Hell to pay when the press finds out Stanley was released against our recommendations. All the Commissioner wants is a firm "no comment" from us. He doesn't want this to turn into a war between us and the parole board."
    "All right, Captain, but I don't think Micki will stop at "no comment". The parole board better cover their collective asses PDQ. Micki doesn't care whose dirty laundry she airs in public, especially when they make a mistake like this one."
    "As a fellow police officer, I agree. But, as head of this Task Force, I have to abide by the Commissioner's wishes. Have them come back here, and we'll straighten the whole mess out, away from the media."
    Hutch sighed. "OK, Captain. We'll be there as soon as we can."
    He put down the phone and turned off the oven. He grabbed his jacket and motioned to Starsky.
    "Come on, partner. We have to stop World War Three before it starts."
    "What? You're not making any sense, Hutch."
    "George Stanley just reverted back to his old habits, and the shit is about to hit the fan, Micki-style."
    Starsky grabbed his jacket, and slammed the front door behind them. "Terrific."
    By the time they arrived at the scene, the ME's assistants were loading the body into the coroner's wagon. Starsky stopped them long enough to examine the young girl's body. George Stanley's signature, two pink barrettes, held her blonde hair away from her face. Hutch stood beside his partner, looking at the corpse.
    "Looks like George decided to escalate. He didn't kill those other girls, did he?"
    Starsky shook his head. "No, that's why he got fifteen to twenty instead of life. Guess he can kiss his senior years good-bye, too."
    Starsky covered her face, and motioned for the men to go on. As the wagon pulled onto the street, he saw Micki and Tracy, sitting on the curb. The two detectives exchanged glances and walked over to them. Hutch sat down beside his wife.
    Micki stared straight ahead. "We told them this was going to happen. They wouldn't listen and now a fifteen-year-old kid will never go home again. This job really stinks sometimes."
    Hutch picked her hand up in his and kissed it gently. "Come on, Dobey wants us back at the station."
    The four detectives drove back to the station. When they walked into Dobey's office, there was another man with him. Hutch thought he was vaguely familiar, then realized who he was. He had only seen him once before. Walter Brewer was the senior officer on the California Corrections Parole Board. Micki advanced on him like a miniature torpedo.
    "Did you come to gloat, Brewer? Have you seen George's latest trophy? Would you like to go down to the morgue and see her?"
    Brewer backed up a step. "We're not sure it was George Stanley. You're out of line, detective."
    "Out of line?! Why don't you go down to the morgue and take a look, Brewer?! George Stanley's signature is all over that girl's body. After he rapes them, he puts pink barrettes in their hair. He likes them young, you see. They almost look like little dolls. You let a known rapist back on the street, after we TOLD you that he would repeat his crimes. You wouldn't listen to us, because we're female. We had plenty of evidence, but you didn't care. All you saw was how young we were, and that we were the wrong sex. As far as you're concerned, the only place for a woman is at home, barefoot and pregnant. YOU'RE THE ONE OUT OF LINE!!!!!"
    "George Stanley has been a model prisoner for fifteen years. There was no evidence that he would commit any further crimes."
    Tracy moved to her partner's side. "There was evidence, Brewer. You just refused to see it. We talked to Stanley's cellmates. Do you know what he called his victims? Slut puppies. As far as he was concerned, any female over the age of thirteen was fair game. They weren't human beings. They were pleasure toys; HIS pleasure toys. Bay City was his playground, and you turned him loose."
    Brewer protested. "We talked to his cellmates. They never told us anything."
    Micki shook her head. "They weren't going to talk to you. You're the man. In case you haven't noticed, we're psychologists. We know how to ask the questions, and how to interpret the answers."
    Tracey nodded. "We also did some investigating. Did you know that over the past two years, George Stanley checked out every book in the prison library related to parole hearings, and psychological testing? He studied, Brewer. He knew what questions you were going to ask, and he knew exactly how to answer them. He conned you and you fell for it."
    Micki snarled at him. "Now we get to tell that girl's father that his daughter is dead. We get to explain to him that a known rapist was out on parole for two lousy weeks, and now his little girl is gone. I hope you see her face in the mirror for the rest of your life, Brewer. I hope your precious reputation was worth her life."
    Before the shaken parole officer could reply, the telephone rang. Dobey snatched it up.
    "Dobey." He listened for a moment, then said, "OK, you know what to do. Good work, Simmons."
    He hung up the phone and turned to Walter Brewer. "They just captured George Stanley. He was headed back to the Lawrence Motel. There was blood on his clothes, and he was carrying Alma Thompson's backpack when Simmons and Babcock stopped him. They're booking him now, and the clothes and backpack will be taken to the crime lab for analysis."
    Micki glared at Walter Brewer. "Are you happy now, Brewer? Is that enough proof for you?"
    She turned and walked out of the office, with Tracy close behind her. Brewer jumped as the door slammed shut.

    Walter Brewer was pale when he turned to the Captain. "What are you going to do now, Captain?"
    Dobey struggled to control his anger. "Do? I'm not going to do anything. My detectives gave their full attention to George Stanley's case, and presented their results to you before the hearing. You dropped the ball, Brewer. You let your personal views influence your decision. Now you have to live with it. My advice would be for you to eat a generous helping of crow. Apologize for this horrible lapse in judgement, and promise a full investigation into the parole program. Then take your medicine."
    Brewer nodded thoughtfully. "I'll talk to the Warden and get with our P.R. people. I think I can promise you that George Stanley will be back in his cell ASAP, and he won't be getting out again, ever."
    He nodded quickly at Starsky and Hutch, then started to leave. Before he could open the door, Dobey stopped him.
    "And, Brewer, the next time my detectives object to a prisoner getting paroled, LISTEN!!!"
    The cowed parole officer nodded quickly and almost ran out the door. Starsky and Hutch traded looks and shook their heads sadly. Hutch turned to their Captain.
    "Is there anything you need us to do, Captain?"
    "No, I think Simmons and Babcock can handle Stanley. Maybe you'd better catch up with Micki and take her home. I think she needs to cool off a bit before she runs into any reporters."
    Hutch grinned. "Good idea, Captain. I wouldn't want to see all your hard work go down the drain. If Micki gets her hands on a reporter right now, it will set our relations with the prison system back ten years. We'll see you in the morning."
    Starsky and Hutch left the office in search of Micki and Tracy. They rounded the corner just in time to see a defiant Micki standing in front of Simonetti.
    "Leave me alone, Simonetti. This doesn't have a damned thing to do with IA. The parole board screwed up, not us. Why don't you go after them for a change?"
    "Do you mean somebody didn't listen to the great Micki Ellis? Oh, excuse me. I mean Micki Hutchinson. Could it be possible that you don't walk on water after all?"
    Micki snarled. "Go to Hell, Simonetti."
    Tracey smiled sweetly at the IA detective as they walked past him. "What she said."
    Simonetti sneered at the two women, then stiffened when he saw Starsky and Hutch standing there.
    "You'd better control your wife, Hutchinson. Her mouth is going to get her in big trouble some day."
    The blonde detective advanced slowly on his nemesis. "I've had just about enough of you, Simonetti. This doesn't have anything to do with Micki. It's between you and me. If you want to come after me, then take your best shot. But you leave my wife ALONE! Understand?"
    Before Simonetti could answer, another voice came from behind them. "What's going on here?"
    Hutch whirled around and saw Lieutenant Bob Griffey standing beside Starsky. "Ask your man, Lieutenant."
    "I'm asking you, Sergeant. I want to see both of you in my office, now."
    Ten minutes later, they were standing in front of Griffey's desk. The Lieutenant looked calmly at Hutch.
    "Now, I want to know what that was about. Sergeant Hutchinson?"
    "Simonetti has been on a vendetta against Starsky and me for years. He's brought trumped up charges against us before, and we've always beaten them. But now he's sticking his nose in my personal life, and I don't like it. If he thinks we've committed a crime, then bring charges and let us answer them. If he can't substantiate those charges, then tell him to get off our backs. Micki's been through enough this year. She doesn't need him dogging her."
    "Why would he be dogging her? To my knowledge, she hasn't done anything warranting IA's attentions."
    Hutch drew a calming breath and spoke slowly. "Look, Lieutenant. We got drunk and eloped. That might have been a little irresponsible, but we're planning on going ahead with the wedding anyway. No one will suffer for it. Simonetti has already tried and convicted us on conduct unbecoming. Every time we turn around, he's there, harassing us. I'm getting tired of it. I shouldn't have to defend my personal life to anyone, not even IA."
    "I agree. As long as you don't commit any crimes, your personal life is outside the jurisdiction of Internal Affairs. You have my sincere apologies. I'm sure I can keep Detective Simonetti occupied from now on. He won't be harassing you any more."
    "Thank-you, Lieutenant. If that's all, I'd like to go home now. If I know my wife, and I do, she's going to be blaming herself for that kid's death."
    "Of course. Oh, and congratulations, to both of you."
    "Thanks, Lieutenant."
    Hutch threw a scathing look at Simonetti and strode out the door. Griffey looked at his man.
    "I don't know what kind of grudge you're carrying against Starsky and Hutchinson, but you're treading on dangerous ground. Internal Affairs wasn't created as a weapon for your personal feuds. We're not vigilante's, Alex. We're supposed to go after the bad guys, not the good guys, remember?"
    Simonetti answered with clenched jaws. "Yes, sir."
    As he walked out the door, he fumed to himself. "If you want a war, Hutchinson, I'll give you a war."
    Simonetti was still fuming when he got back to his desk. Bill Dryden looked up from the report he was working on and whistled softly when he saw his partner's face.
    "Whoa! What's the matter with you? You look like you could bite nails in half. Let me guess. Starsky and Hutchinson. Right?"
    "Right. Griffey just had Hutchinson and me in his office, and Hutchinson came out smelling like a rose. How do they do it? Those two hotshots threw the book away the minute they graduated from the academy, and nobody cares! I've busted my ass at this job for ten years now, and what does Griffey do? He tells me to stop harassing them!"
    "At the risk of getting my head bit off, did you ever stop to think that maybe they aren't dirty? I know, they've bent a few rules, but they get results. The word on the street is they don't take bribes. I don't understand what it is about them that sets you off."
    Simonetti glared at his partner. "Don't tell me you're on their side? I thought you felt the same way."
    "I'm not on anybody's side, Alex. When Hutchinson's ex-wife was murdered in his apartment, with his gun, I thought he was guilty. But, they found the real killer and Hutchinson was cleared. I still owe Starsky for handcuffing me to Hutchinson's table, but that's personal. I won't let it influence the way I do my job. To put it bluntly, I haven't seen any evidence that proves they're corrupt."
    "They ARE corrupt, and I'll prove it, to you and everybody else. Mark my words, Bill. I will prove it."
    At that moment, the telephone rang. Simonetti snatched it up and growled. "Yeah?"
    "Ooops, sorry Boss. Did I call at a bad time?"
    Boss? Simonetti thought. "Who the Hell is this?"
    "It's Louie. I know I haven't called in a while, but things have been kinda dry lately."
    "Oh, Louie. What do you want? I'm busy right now."
    "I'm in kind of a jam, and I thought you might help me out. I've got some good skinny for you, if we can work out a deal."
    "Louie, I don't have the time to dance with you. What have you done now?"
    "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, Boss. I was talking to a friend of mine in this hotel, and the cops raided it. I didn't know it was a crack house, honestly. I don't do the hard stuff. You know that."
    "So, what did they get you on?"
    "Possession with intent to sell. The thing is, I'm still on parole from that last beef. If I get convicted, I go back to the slam for ten more years. I can't do that, Boss. Please help me. I promise, if you come down here, I'll make it worth your time. You won't regret it."
    "Oh, all right, but this had better be good! I'm not going to fight a drug rap if you're just giving me the run around."
    "I ain't, Boss. You got my word on that."
    Simonetti sighed. "All right, I'll be down in a few minutes. Don't say anything to anybody until I get there. Understand?"
    "You got it, Boss."
   Thirty minutes later, Simonetti was sitting at a table with Louis Holmes.
   "Well, Louie, I already know what you want from me. What's this great information that you're supposed to have?"
    "I happen to know that you ain't exactly best friends with Starsky and Hutchinson, and neither am I. Those two have been a pain in the ass for a long time now. Like I said, I don't do the hard stuff, but I like to smoke a little weed and play the horses once in a while. Those two clowns act like it's their own personal crusade to put me away. They're the ones that sent me up the last time. I'm facing hard time because of them. There's something I've been holding on to for a long time, but if you'll get me out of this rap, it's yours. It will take both those assholes down, I promise."
    Simonetti sat back in his chair and looked his informant over with new respect. "Well, you've certainly piqued my curiosity, Exactly what do you have?"
    "If you'll go over to my pad, you'll see for yourself, Boss. It's in the top drawer of my dresser, in a brown envelope. It will knock your socks off, I swear. I'll tell you what. You go over and take a look at it, and then you come back here. If it ain't as good as I say it is, I'll take the possession rap and do the time. I won't bug you again, ever."
    "OK, I'll make the trip, just to see what you have. If it's gold, I'll make a deal with the DA. Sit tight. I'll be back soon. Oh, do I need a key?"
    Louie threw his head back and cackled. "A key? Now, what could I possibly have that anyone would want? Besides, if the people that I run around with want to get in, they'll get in, and they don't need no key."
    "I'm on my way, then. I'll be back soon."
    Simonetti knocked on the door and waited for the guard to let him out. "Keep him here. I have some information that I need to check out. It won't take long."
    "Sure, Detective. Take your time."
    "Oh, and get him something to eat and drink. No booze, though."
    "Yes, sir. I'll call down to the commissary and have them send up a tray."
    Simonetti nodded to the guard and walked calmly out the door. As soon as he was outside, he sprinted for his car. If Louie was telling the truth, for once in his life, this might be the answer to his prayers. God, just let it be, he prayed. For once, let me win. He drove the short distance to Louie's run down hotel room, holding his breath most of the way. Without even glancing at the desk clerk, he ran up the stairs and shoved open Louie's door. He crossed the room in three long strides and yanked open the dresser drawer. As his fingers pawed through the worn out clothes, he felt the stiff brown envelope underneath. Simonetti closed his eyes and said another short prayer. Then, he pulled out the contents of the envelope and opened one eye, and then the other. His eyes grew wider as he looked at the prize in his hand. His sinister laugh echoed around the room.
    "By God, I've got you now, Hutchinson! Even Dobey won't be able to get you out of this one!"

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