"First of all." he said, as she shut the door and settled in the seat. "Let's get one thing straight." he glanced at her as he accelerated, turning right at the road. "You, I do not trust. Get the picture?" She nodded, saying nothing. She looked pale and wiped out.
"I haven't committed to anything yet," he added flatly. She only sighed. Warily he glanced at her. "I want to know exactly what went down."
Ali wedged her elbow against the window, settling her forehead on her hand, staring at the dashboard. "Ray Bingham got drunk seven days ago came home and beat his ex-wife to death. Their property and ours adjoin and he came into our barn and stole my horse. I tried to go after him but Kenny stopped me. Doug, our Sheriff, called in the feds and they brought up trackers. Because it was on our property, and Ken knows the trails, he went with the trackers up there after him. They were two days out, and came to an area I recognized as being where the mountain splits. It's got a lot of canyons and ridges all around it. The trail forks there, with the higher trail being an alternate route to an old cattle camp. Ken decided to take the higher trail and meet the two trackers at the camp. They hadn't found anything on Bingham, except evidence of a horse recently passing through. Ken had a radio on him, and called in his first report when he was supposed too but after that..." she trailed off.
Starsky listened soberly, then glanced at her. Ali stared out the window.
"Four nights ago an early storm blew through. Doug called SAR and the Umatilla Military Reserve, and they sent in choppers, and men to help search. There was one break in the weather and they were able to get up there and help get our horses out, but..." she trailed off again.
"They did find your horse?" Starsky asked.
"Yeah, Kenny's horse and mine, but there was no sign of Ken, there was a foot of snow on the ground and another blizzard moved in after the first one. They called off the search this morning." She closed her eyes and sighed.
"I overheard Doug tell Carol, his secretary, that they needed to prepare me for the worst."
"Did they find Bingham?" Starsky demanded, his brain ticking at high speed. The dates were corresponding to the times he began feeling that funny intuition.
"No."
"And you don't believe he's dead?" he asked. Ali finally looked at him.
"No."
Starsky seemed satisfied for the moment.
"When we can talk about it..." she said softly. "He tells me about you...the old days, you know?" He looked at her uneasily.
"When you can talk about it?" he asked sharply. Ali seemed to wince.
"It's hard sometimes," she whispered. "I didn't handle my injuries well at all. I made mistakes."
"You can say that again!" he replied sarcastically. Ali sighed wearily.
"You can believe what you want Starsky, but time does heal." She looked askance at him. "Ken has done a lot to help that along. I remember the night he asked me to marry him, we had been out walking along the canals, listening to the back yards BBQ's, kids and dogs playing, people laughing, enjoying themselves..."
Her only connection to her past drifted before her eyes.
"He was happy, and relaxed. He asked me to marry him on the bridge leading back to the house. I remember him digging into that little side pocket in his jeans, and pulling out the engagement ring. It slipped out of his fingers and he did the funniest juggling act trying to catch it, before it could fall into the canal." She absently rolled the ring on her finger. "When I told him I would, he hollered to all the neighbors that I said yes. I remember them cheering."
For a brief second, Ali's brilliant smile played across her face. Starsky himself remembered how happy his partner had been. The smile turned sad then vanished as the present situation reasserted itself. "He's done far more for me than I could ever repay, and the only thing I can think of now is to try and mend fences with you. I've been wanting to for a long time, whether you care to believe it or not."
"Sometimes fences can't be mended." he instantly responded. Ali drew in a breath, and nodded, accepting his statement. She had half expected it anyway. She didn't see the puzzlement flash across his eyes as he watched her. She had asked him though, for forgiveness, and apologized, and meant it despite what he thought, and somehow Ali felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She nodded, and looked at him.
"That's all right." she said. "Just help find him, please."
"You know Coulter." he snapped. "I don't know what those fried circuits in your head are playing at, but it's not gonna work! Just lay off the apology act!" He sounded testy, his fingers flexing nervously on his steering wheel. Trouble was, he felt some of the resentment draining away. He had always been quick to forgive, it was just a bit too much to actually have someone who had tried killing you, resurface abruptly and apologize for it. He watched her carefully, not knowing what kind of move she might make. Ali however looked exhausted, her entire body reflecting weariness.
"Where's your hotel?" he asked.
"I didn't get one." she said, rubbing at her right temple. "I came straight
from the airport. Just take me back there..." she paused
> and added, "Please."
For a long time, he didn't reply, just mulling things over and over in his head. Soon however he found himself driving down his street. Ali looked confused, but said nothing.
He pulled into his driveway, shifted into park, killed the engine and looked at her. His every sense was keenly on the alert against this woman, but like it or not, she was not the same.
"You do anything to try and take me down..." he warned. "And I'll have your carcass in the morgue so fast you won't realize you're dead."
Ali only nodded.
"C'mon, you first." He popped his door open and waited for her to climb the stairs to his apartment. Ali only looked a bit perplexed, she glanced at him.
"Which?" she asked. Starsky caught himself.
"On the right." he said. She started up the stairs, and he shook his head, locking the Torino door.
He made every precaution, to keep her in his sight as he could. In the apartment, she stood uneasily in the living room, looking around. Entering the kitchen, Starsky jerked a dining room chair out from the far side and nodded at her to sit. He kept expecting an adverse reaction, but to his disappointment, Ali accepted the chair with apparent relief, settling down wearily and swinging her legs under the table. Satisfied that she was at least slightly boxed in, he finally relaxed a little to turn his back to her as he opened the refrigerator. He pulled out a long neck, and glanced at her, holding it up, raising an eyebrow. She smirked slightly shaking her head.
"Booze and brain damage..." she said self mockingly.
"Coke then?" he asked.
"Water?"
He shrugged, popping the top off his bottle and reached up into the cupboard for a glass. Seconds later he set the water in front of her. She wasn't even biting at the invite to drink.
"Where'd the money come from for the ticket?" he asked. Ali looked up as he leaned against his counter.
"Sold my car."
"The Firebird?" he asked. Ali nodded.
"We needed some extra money."
That raised a quizzical eyebrow from the brunette. Hutch had a knack for keeping his finances well off, plus the inheritance he'd received when his dad had passed away. Ali could see the track his mind was taking.
"We added 230 acres to the back half of the property in May, and two wells to water stock, and some major fence repairs. Then there's been my prescriptions, the vet bills, and the house payments. Plus the help we take on when Ken has to take more of a firm hand in his job in town. We have burdens, just like everyone else." Ali sighed, sipping the water.
"My Firebird was a luxury rat mobile, so I sold it."
Starsky studied her hard. She just sat with her arms resting across the table, tense and fatigued, holding the glass in one hand.White blonde hair spilled haphazardly around her shoulders. This was not the half insane nightmare he'd tried to stop from escaping the hospital, nor was she the panicked fugitive he'd cornered in Pine Ridge. Whether he liked it or not, this was a worried, worn out, woman, pleading for help in finding a man both of them cared a great deal about. He heaved a sigh.
"I call all the shots," he finally said. "I make the decisions and if I can possibly get away with it, you stay behind. If not, you will do everything I tell you or we don't take another step foreword." Ali's head moved suddenly, looking at him.
"You'll go?!" she asked, blinking at him.
"So long as we do all of this my way!" he warned pointing at himself with the hand still holding the bottle. Ali looked at him, shocked. She stared at him a moment, then dropped her head. He could feel the relief coming from her.
"Thank you! Dave..." she whispered. "Thank you!" Her relief was definitely genuine. Starsky shook his head.
"I don't barkin' believe I'm doing this." he said out loud.
"What?" she asked looking up puzzled.
"Letting the wacko who nearly killed me into my apartment and then agreeing to fly 700 miles with her. I'm catching your disease!"
"He's still alive, Dave I know he is..." she reemphasized.
Starsky sighed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, and the big oaf needs me
to haul his carcass out of trouble again!" He pushed away from the counter
and swaggered into the bedroom. He started packing. As he did, he heard
to his uncomfortable surprise, the sounds of Ali Hutchinson, quietly crying
in the kitchen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Doug Riley was very nearly besides himself with worry. Between Hutch's
disappearance, the Umatilla forces pulling out, SAR gone, and the trackers
just getting back to the ranch, the last thing he needed was Ken's wife
to just up and leave. It was nearly 3:00 in the morning, and he was tired.
The trackers expected to be on the Hutchinson property within the hour
and he had stayed by the radio, making sure they made it down all right.
A third storm threatened the region but the temperature had come up enough
within the last 24 hours to begin melting some of the snow in the area.
Still, it looked bad for Hutch. As Riley threatened to pull out more
of his remaining hair, he heard the sounds of a vehicle pulling into the
drive. Thinking it to be one of his deputies returning to help the trackers,
he didn't bother rising. It was a surprise therefore when Ali Hutchinson
walked in, followed closely by a man he did not recognize.
"Where in the Sam Hill have you been!?" Doug exploded bursting up from the table. Ali didn't reply, she just dropped a load of sacks on the couch.
"Have you heard anything?" she asked. Doug stared at the stranger, who set down the few sacks he was carrying, and looked around.
"Trackers will be here shortly..." he said, looking bewildered.
The stranger, average height, with short cropped curly hair (with a touch of salt and pepper), blue eyes and a restless energy, began prowling around the room.
"Anything about Hutch?" he asked casually.
"Who the hell are you?!" Doug demanded then looked at Ali. She peeled off her jacket, hanging it on an antique coat rack near the door.
"Doug, this is David Starsky. Dave, this is Doug Riley, the sheriff." Ali said by way of introduction, she immediately disappeared down the hall. Doug looked confused. Starsky shrugged.
"David Starsky?" Riley replied putting two and two together.
Starsky beamed his extra wattage smile at him.
"Hutch's partner," he replied. Doug looked thunderstruck.
"From Los Angeles?"
"Fresh off the banana boat!"
"She didn't fly down to..." Doug started, then realized that yes, she had.
"What's the situation up there?" Starsky asked, moving from the living room to survey the kitchen. He carefully inspected the receiver and several portable radios, and copious notes scattered around the kitchen table.
"14 inches of snow and more expected within the next 24 hours. What the hell is happening here?" Doug snapped.
"What's happening is Hutch. He's up there, alive, and I intend to go up there and haul his rear end out. Then I'm going to kick it as hard as I can, for being so stupid! He knows better than to go on man hunts without me!"
"Look pal, I don't know what she told you..." he nodded towards the bedroom door. "All indications appear that Hutchinson went over a cliff. It's in bad enough of a spot we can't even get ground crews in at the base of the place to look for a body. Add snow and it's a near impossible situation."
"So you guys are just giving up." Starsky said, smiling just a little patronizingly.
"It's not like I want to, pal!" Doug snapped back. "Hutchinson's a damn fine detective and he's greatly liked in our community, and he's a good friend! You think I want to see them call this search off? We weren't expecting early snow this year! And that ridge he's out there on is one of the most difficult spots in the region! If Bingham shot him, or tackled him, there's no telling where he may have fallen!"
"So you think Bingham may have gotten to him first?" Starsky calmly asked, picking up one of the portable radios and fiddling with the switches.
"The saddle on Hutch's horse was sideways, like he'd either fallen off or had been knocked off. And the spot on the trail..." Doug shook his head. "I've been up there, it's a down slope then a sheer drop, real bad spot!" Starsky nodded.
"Who's are these?" he asked.
"Federal department. Why?" Doug asked uneasily.
"We need to borrow one." Starsky beamed at him again. "Any chance we can get some snow mobiles?"
"Are you out of your mind?" Doug snapped again. "You couldn't get a snow mobile up into that country!"
"No, she's out of her mind." Starsky also nodded at the bedroom door. "I just need some stuff to help get my partner back alive. A radio would help. Any chance SAR would bring in one of their choppers?"
"No way!" Doug nearly hollered. Starsky seemed resigned to something, and sighed.
"How about some rock climbing gear? Like a harness, pitons, ropes, you know, cliff scaling stuff?"
Doug just stared at Starsky like a calf staring at a new gate. The bedroom door opened and Ali emerged, having changed clothes. The cuffs, wrist and ankles, to a set of long johns, could be seen under a set of insulated coveralls, a white turtleneck, and wool socks. She carried both her riding and her hiking boots and set it all down in the living room.
"You are not going up there!" Doug exclaimed. Ali didn't even look up as she quietly replied.
"Try and stop me." She looked at Starsky. "No snow mobile huh?"
He looked back at her, and Doug noted the look of displeasure that flashed briefly across the brunette's eyes.
"The key to the gun cabinet is on top of it, Starsk." she said. "I'm gonna go get the horses ready. You can get what ever you need, there's plenty of ammo in the drawer. I think my old holster is in there too, you might have to check. The Glock is in my nightstand, and it's loaded." She sat down on the couch, pulling on a riding boot.
"Absolutely not!" Doug flared. "You are not going up there!" Ali didn't even bother to look up. Starsky smirked, setting the radio down.
"I'll arrest you, Ali!" Doug threatened.
"I wouldn't..." Starsky replied sauntering down the hallway.
"With those screws loose she's liable to kill you if you tried. I oughta know!"
"Doug..."Ali said calmly. "That's my husband up there." She looked at him with her laser blue eyes. "He's still alive, Doug, and I won't give up looking for him, with or with out your help." She pulled the other boot on and stood up.
"He knows Kenny's still alive too. We fully intend on finding him."
"Your one hundred percent insane!" Doug hissed at her. Ali shook her head.
"70% disability. Mostly in the areas of recall, reaction, and long term memory loss and suffering from near crippling migraines due to scarring and bullet fragments. Patient is incapable of holding permanent work, and has prescriptions for Midrin to relieve pain, Anaprox to help with inflammation, and Compazine to control nausea, as needed. Disability status has been granted, SSI benefits and pension from Los Angeles and Seattle Law Enforcement Retirement Funds, has been approved." She recited mockingly like it was a textbook memory exercise. She looked at Doug, smirking.
"He's alive, Doug." she added more soberly, looking at him so steadily that it unnerved him.
"I won't be held responsible for your deaths!" he fumed.
"We volunteered." she shot back. He slammed a hand down hard on the kitchen table.
"You are insane!" he shouted. The radio abruptly crackled as one of the trackers radioed in. Doug glared angrily at Ali, then was forced to turn away and answer. Ali rose silently and left the house, heading for the barn.
Twenty minutes later, Starsky entered, a little startled to see electric lights inside. He smoothed down his old faded green army coat, now wearing new thermals under his jeans and denim shirt from the supplies they had bought before arriving at the ranch. Ali's Glock .9mm, sat nestled under his arm, and he carried a .22 sniper rifle, looking perplexed.
"What on earth are you guy's doing with this?" he asked, holding it up. Ali was leaning heavily against a huge brown horse, sporting a white blaze, halter tied to a post in the center of the barn. Half crouched, she had one of the big animals leg off the ground and was carefully cleaning the dirt out from his hoof, with a pick. Glancing up, she looked at the decidedly uncomfortable Starsky who was eyeing the horse with reservation.
"That?" she asked. "We got it for coyotes." Starsky, handling the rifle with ease, looked at her.
"Coyotes?" he asked.
"They're everywhere," she said resuming her chore. Starsky decided it was going with them.
"The tracker's borrowed the 30.06 too, we'll need that if we meet up with bears."
"Bears?!" Starsky exclaimed, his voice rising just a hair.
"Cougars, too..." she said matter of factly.
"I'm getting us a chopper!" he snapped turning to go.
"Starsk?" she asked. He stopped and looked at her, resting the butt of the rifle on his thigh. She looked at him. "I really messed up with Doug, didn't I?" she asked. Starsky smirked.
"You haven't been known for being too sociable since your shooting, Coulter," he said with a bit of sarcasm. Seeing her wince, he added. "You were a heck of a lot more fun to be around before." She hung her head, staring at the horses foot, and heaved a sigh.
"Damn!" she whispered. She backed away from the horse, straightening slowly, affectionately patting the animal on his neck as he shifted. Starsky watched her a moment and turned back.
"You owe him an apology." he said coldly.
"I know." she replied. "Kenny's been working on that with me." she added. She gazed at the horse a moment then looked at him.
"We'll need camping gear, Starsk. It's gonna take a little longer to get these guys ready. It's all in the room at the far end of the barn." She nodded towards the area. "You'll find pretty much everything we need. It'll be light in two more hours. We'll need to be on the trail by then." Starsky looked towards the room in question and glanced back at her and the horse.
"We're taking that?" he asked uneasily.
"Duke?" Ali asked looking at him puzzled. "Of course, he's Kenny's horse."
"Haven't you got something smaller?" he asked.
Ali stared at him. "Don't tell me you've never ridden a horse."
"I've ridden!" he protested, neglecting to add pony rides at the zoo when he was a boy. "I've just never been on anything that big." He nodded at Duke.
"Nearly 18 hands. He's the biggest horse in three counties. You can ride Blue in there, he's only 16 hands." She nodded at her dapple grey.
Starsky swallowed nervously. He wasn't liking this development one bit. Why had Hutch decided to move so far out in the boonies? He didn't like the idea of having to depend on Ali one bit either.
"I'm gonna finish getting things ready." he said sourly still hefting the rifle. Ali nodded and turned to Blue's stall.
Daybreak was a cold grey morning. Starsky was sitting uncomfortably astride Ali's horse, feeling very much out of place. Both animals were loaded down with necessities and a great deal of ropes and climbing gear. Ali, on the bigger horse, was carefully tugging on a pair of riding gloves, while Doug looked sourly on.
Starsky glanced around, making sure the .22 was secure and glad for the fact he had the pistol and the radio on him. Ali carried the .30.06, but, as she'd be leading, he knew, if necessary, he'd get any kind of a clean shot on her if things went sour. She'd never get the bigger rifle out fast enough. She edged Duke up closer to Blue, leaned over and took Starsky's left hand in both of her's. He was about to say something, tensing suddenly, when she murmured.
"Hold like this..." she looped the reins loosely around his hand.
"Keep your right on your thigh, and just stay balanced. When we trot, stand in the stirrups with your knees flexed slightly and let them take the shock. When we run, lean foreword, hang onto the horn and crouch. Do not flap your arms." She looked at him. "He's very well trained, so try not to squeeze too hard with your legs or lay the reins against his neck, you'll find yourself on the ground if you do." She backed off and looked at Doug.
"Without the pack horses, we should make nearly double the time. If what the fella's said about the snow line melting is true, we should be up there in 24 hours instead of 40."
Starsky almost choked. Forty hours on a horse?