A Mountain of Trouble

310

Captain Dobey asks Starsky and Hutch to undertake a special assignment for him escorting a prisoner out of state. The journey takes them through some rugged terrain. It becomes clear that someone knows about the prisoner transfer and is trying to intercept them en route. Trouble ensues!

 

Title art by Lapfordlass. First published 2022.

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Chapter One

June 1977

Hutch was starting to get concerned. His partner seemed to be in a constant state of preoccupation, which wasn’t like him at all. Usually, if something bothered Starsky, he’d shout about it, let out all his emotions in one go and then move on with the business of living, but this time something was eating away at him. Heaven alone knew that they had both had their share of losses and trauma over the last eight months. There was a lot they could both be preoccupied about.

Only the two of them knew the bad days they still had. The days when it got too much to keep the aching heart hidden. Thankfully, they had each other to lean on because society at large didn’t seem to know much about how to support people through grief. Death made people uncomfortable. It was acceptable to ask someone how they were doing for about a month afterwards then people didn’t want to know; they wanted to forget the misery and expected everyone else to do so as well.

Other officers in their department had acted better than most towards Starsky; they’d understood a little of what he must have gone through losing Terry as he had. He’d been shown sympathy and kindness – and leeway – for quite a long time after the event. Hutch, on the other hand, had been shown none of the same consideration. No-one, not even Dobey, knew about his relationship with Gillian and therefore no-one knew he was grieving. His bad days were put down to ‘just Hutch being more irritable than usual’.

It wasn’t fair but it was just how it was. Lord knows, Hutch didn’t begrudge Starsky the sympathy he had been shown, in fact people were kinder to Hutch at the same time because they knew Terry had been a friend of his too. So for a little while, they had both been supported by sympathetic smiles and gentle questions about how they were doing. But that was as far as it went. Men were somehow worse than women at talking about their feelings. Nobody was as open as he and Starsky were about their emotional health, but then only with each other, not the world at large, and even they didn’t always share everything. Whether that was out of a misguided decision not to be a burden or thinking it might stir up sorrow for the other one if they said how they were really feeling, Hutch wasn’t sure.

Starsky’s pre-occupation was starting to become noticeable to more than just Hutch. This last week, other detectives had teased him, asking what he was daydreaming about when he’d been caught staring off into space instead of typing up a report. Once or twice, when they’d been out in the car, Hutch had turned to find Starsky looking almost anxious; a look that had been quickly masked when he’d realised that his partner was looking at him. As the days went on, Hutch kept hoping his friend would tell him what was bothering him but so far not a word had been said. There was fine line between accepting his partner’s right to privacy and pushing Starsky to open up. Usually Hutch knew when to give him space or when to breach the walls. This time something was throwing off his certainty. He decided to give Starsky one more day to work out his problem by himself. Then if there was no obvious change in his mood, Hutch was going to tackle him and get to the bottom of what was worrying his partner.

The two of them had just arrived in the office (on time for a change) and Hutch busied himself pouring two cups of coffee for them. For once, the coffee smelled all right; as if it had not long been made, in fact. Hutch took a cautious sip and was pleasantly relieved to find it tasted as good as it smelled. He turned around to tell his partner the good news, only to find him staring off into space with a vacant look on his face again. No, not vacant exactly, but seeing something Hutch couldn’t see – recalling a memory maybe?

Hutch walked across the room and pushed the cup into his friend’s hand.

“There you go, partner. Drink up. It actually tastes good today.”

Starsky came back from wherever he had been and grimaced, “It’s too late for April Fool’s.”

“Honestly, it does taste good.” Hutch confirmed this by taking a large sip and not making a face.

Starsky eyed him suspiciously and then took a cautious sip. His face broke into a smile.

“Hey, that’s not half bad. Miracles do happen!”

Hutch settled at his desk and watched as his partner shifted in his chair, leaning back as far as he could get it to go, two legs lifting off the floor. Starsky sighed as he tipped his head to one side and once again looked at nothing across the other side of the room. Hutch frowned. Perhaps he should just go ahead and ask what was on his friend’s mind.

He was prevented from doing so by the door to Dobey’s office being thrown open and the owner of that particular workspace bellowing in his own inimitable style: “Starsky! Hutchinson! I need you in my office now!”

Starsky’s chair legs almost crashed down and his cup slipped from his hand, landing with a clatter on the floor.

“Sheesh, Cap! Are ya trying to give me a heart attack?” Starsky grumbled, as he grabbed a pile of tissues from the box on a colleague’s desk and mopped up the dark brown liquid spreading out on the floor. Fortunately, he’d drunk most of his coffee and the cup hadn’t broken when it hit the floor. Starsky retrieved it from where it had rolled under his desk and set it down gently.

Dobey made a small noise of apology then returned to his office. Hutch stood up but paused before heading into the office. He caught his partner’s eye, silently asking him if he was okay. Starsky nodded and gave him a small smile. Then the two of them walked into the office to find out what their captain wanted with them.

“Take a seat, both of you.”

Starsky flopped down onto the chair to the left of the captain’s desk. Hutch perched on the arm. Dobey was slightly surprised. He was used to his two best detectives sharing seats, but often it was a sign that one of them was under a sense of strain or upset about something. He hadn’t seen anything in the last couple of days to indicate that either of them, particularly Starsky, was under a cloud. Oh well, whatever was going on, Hutch would no doubt help his partner deal with it. Time to get to business.

“I’ve had a request from the Feds to borrow two detectives for a prisoner transfer.”

Both detectives pulled faces; working with Federal Authorities was their least favourite thing to do. Mostly because the Feds always played things too close to their chest, not sharing vital information that left the police in the dark and in danger.

“Oh, come on! Why us, Cap?” Starsky whined. “You know what we think about those guys! We’re still smarting from the last joint op.”

Dobey extracted a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his face, making a harrumphing noise of agreement.

“Yes, well, I know that previous operations haven’t exactly gone smoothly, but they need our help and…” He shrugged. “They want the best…harrum.” Dobey cleared his throat self-consciously.

Starsky dug Hutch in the ribs and stage-whispered, “Ya hear that, Hutch? He thinks we’re the best.”

Hutch almost smiled but seeing the serious look on Dobey’s face, he instead asked quietly, “Who’s the prisoner? And why’s he so important?”

Starsky caught up with Hutch’s thinking and turned an equally enquiring look towards his captain.

Dobey suddenly found the desk in front of him fascinating, as he answered without looking at them: “It’s Woodfield…C J Woodfield.”

“What?!” Incredulous, both detectives responded loudly at the same time.

Dobey swallowed and then looked up. Ignoring their outburst, he went on to explain, “Seems Woodfield has given evidence about some of the people to whom he paid corruption money. That’s in exchange for being moved to a better place to serve out the rest of his sentence. Needless to say, there were some very powerful people on that list who would rather he didn’t finish testifying against them and the Feds have heard a rumour that there’s now a hit out on him.”

“He clearly didn’t think of that when he was making his deal. Still, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Let ‘em have at him, I say,” Starsky muttered.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Starsky. We are officers of the law, not vigilantes.”

“But Cap, doesn’t it burn you up, knowing what he did? What he tried to do to you and your family?”

Sighing, Dobey wiped at his face with his handkerchief and then ran the cotton material over his sweaty neck as well. His face was clouded with emotion.

“Of course, I have strong feelings about the man,” he admitted slowly, “but I’m not going to forget my head or my duty because of that man, no matter what he tried to do. And I expect the same discipline from you.”

“Of course, Captain,” Hutch said. “Whatever you need, we’ll do it.”

Starsky nodded in agreement.

Dobey looked at them both gratefully. He could always trust his ‘boys’ to be there for him. No matter what.

“Thank you.” He opened the file on his desk. “Woodfield is being held at Bay City Correctional. He’s being moved to the Federal Correctional Facility just outside of Phoenix. You’re to collect him from the prison at 1 p.m. and take him by car, which the Feds will be providing.”

Hutch looked at Starsky, silently communicating with him, before turning his attention back to Dobey. “Arizona’s way out of our jurisdiction. How come he’s being moved to Phoenix?”

“The Feds reckon he might be safer in another state.”

“It’s a five hour drive on a good day, Cap,” Starsky added. “Are we allowed to stop anywhere for a break and to refuel?”

Dobey waved the folder in the air. “The Feds have designated three pit stops along the I10 as safe places to stop and check in. You may stop at any of them, your choice. That way, hopefully, no-one will be able to anticipate where you might be at a given time and interfere with your journey.”

“These powerful people might have a long reach. What’s to stop them keeping an eye on all the possible stops along the way?” Hutch asked.

“I did ask that question,” Dobey assured both his detectives.

“And?”

“The man in charge assures me that only he, the Federal Bureau Chief, the Prison Warden and I know where Woodfield is being moved to. You shouldn’t have any problems.”

Starsky rolled his eyes. “Now why did you have to go and say that?”

Dobey snorted. “This is no time for you to be superstitious, Starsky!”

“I’m just saying these things never work out the way they’re planned and someone always knows something they’re not supposed to. What do you think, Hutch?”

“I think you’re right, partner. Sir, this car they’re giving us? Has it got any extra protection? Does it have bullet proof glass?”

Dobey shook his head. “I think they’re going for inconspicuous. It’s a station wagon.”

Starsky groaned. “Noooo.”

Hutch patted his partner’s leg in sympathy, as he commented, “Well, I hope it’s got air-conditioning at least. It gets hotter than the fiery pits on that stretch through the desert.”

Starsky’s eyes widened. “Desert? You mean as in hot places with snakes and scorpions?”

Dobey rolled his eyes as Starsky turned a disgusted face towards him.

“I don’t like scorpions, Cap, and Hutch doesn’t like heat. Isn’t there anyone else that could go?”

Starsky expected Dobey to snort with suppressed laughter or to shout at him. He didn’t expect the silence or the sombre expression that passed over his captain’s face.

Very quietly, Dobey said, “That man killed a dear friend of mine and threatened my family. I would like nothing better for him to be removed from this earth but…duty dictates we protect him and the only people I trust to do that without hesitation are you two. Please will you do that for me? The sooner he’s out of State, the sooner I can try to forget him and move on with my life.”

Starsky swallowed and nodded.

Hutch responded equally as quietly, “You can count on us, sir.”

“I know that, son. Thank you.” Dobey quickly returned to business. He offered the file to Hutch. “Familiarise yourselves with the route and the face and name of the Federal Agents who will meet you outside the prison. Check in with me from your pit stop. Only me. Check in with me after you drop him off. I will authorise meals and an overnight stay after the fact…I’m not running the risk of anyone knowing your itinerary. Just find somewhere suitable to stay overnight and head back in the morning. Report in to me tonight and drop the car back tomorrow. You can have the next day off.”

Both detectives nodded.

“Oh and get receipts. No napkins with scrawled writing on, please, Starsky,” Dobey added with the ghost of a smile.

Starsky chuckled and gave his captain a little salute. “Sure thing, Cap.”

“Right, go get whatever you think you might need from Bigelow – I’ve told him to expect you – and then go home and get packed. The car will be dropped off here at twelve-thirty. I’ll see you before you go.”

Starsky and Hutch nodded at their superior and then hurried out of the office.

“Straight to supply?” Starsky asked.

Hutch shook his head. “No, I think we should take a minute and plan what we might need. Best to be prepared for any eventuality.”

“True…So we can transfer the radios from my car. What else do you want to take?”

Hutch looked at him and tapped one finger at a time as he spoke, “Extra ammo, shotguns, bulletproof vests, survival kit…anything else you think we need?”

Starsky shook his head, looking slightly worried, “You think we’re going to need all that stuff?”

“Don’t you? You’re the one who said things never go to plan…There’s probably a hit out on the man, don’t forget.”

Suddenly, Starsky’s face had a look on it that Hutch had trouble placing. He almost looked sad. As Hutch watched, his partner shuddered.

“Hey. You okay, Starsk?”

“Yeah…just got a bad feeling about this one.”

Hutch placed a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “Me and Thee…We’ll protect the prisoner but we look out for each other first. Okay?”

“Yeah. Deal.”

“Let’s get down to supply and make Bigelow’s day,” Hutch joked.

He was rewarded by a grin from Starsky. “Oh yeah, this’ll be fun!”

*****

“Hey, Bigelow! We’ve got as long list of goodies we’d like,” Starsky announced as soon as they entered the basement supply room.

Bigelow looked up from the form he was filling in and frowned at the pair of detectives.

“I am expecting you and am authorised to grant reasonable requests…reasonable requests,” he emphasised the last two words as he repeated them.

“Well, we’re going on a long trip through desert terrain so I think a lot of things are going to be reasonable,” Starsky informed him.

“Hmm.” Bigelow put his form to one side and grabbed a pad. “Well?”

“Two bullet proof vests, two shotguns with extra ammo and four emergency flares,” Hutch stated.

“I’ll provide two flares. The Bay City Police Department isn’t made of money, Detective Hutchinson!”

“What if we’re lost in the desert overnight. We might need more than two flares!” Hutch protested.

Bigelow stared at them both, totally unmoved. Finally he said, “Maybe you try not to get yourselves lost in the desert then you won’t need them.”

Hutch looked at Starsky with a suppressed grin. “We’ve still got our two standard issue flares; we’ll take those.” Starsky nodded as Hutch turned back to the supply sergeant and said, “We’ll also take the emergency radios from Starsky’s car but we might need extra batteries.”

Bigelow nodded as he scribbled on his pad.

Starsky asked, “You got any survival kits for desert terrain? We need two water bottles and two thermal blankets and desert gear just in case.”

Bigelow rolled his eyes and said, “This is a supply room for an inner city police department, not the armed forces. Of course, we don’t carry desert gear!”

“What about first aid kits with burns cream, anti-scorpion sprays and we definitely need extra water bottles. I think we should take at least four, Hutch.”

“I’ve allocated you two water bottles and that is all you will be getting,” Bigelow responded tetchily. “The best I can do for you is a rucksack with two torches, two whistles, a box of matches, a can opener, a-“

“-Any canned food with that?” Hutch interrupted the list.

“No, you’ll have to supply your own,” Bigelow replied before continuing with his list, “a first aid kit…” Bigelow eyed Starsky as he added, “which I’m sure includes burns cream…And if you’re worried about scorpions, I suggest you take some bleach along with you.”

“Why’s that? Don’t they like the smell?” asked Starsky.

Bigelow shook his head. “No, Starsky. You use it after they sting you. It neutralises the venom. At least I read that in Reader’s Digest so I’m assuming it’s true.”

“I’d rather they didn’t sting me in the first place,” Starsky grumbled.

“Then try not to get lost in the desert,” Bigelow retorted. “Right, I’ll just gather this lot up for you, while you sign all these papers for their release.”

He shoved a wad of forms at Hutch before disappearing into the back room.

“Hey, Bigelow! Don’t forget my thermal blankets!” Starsky yelled after him.

As Hutch signed the papers, Starsky grinned at him. “That was fun. What do you think he’ll say if I ask for a set of anti-snake venom vials?”

“He’ll probably suggest you don’t -“

“- get lost in the desert,” they finished together.

 

Chapter Two

Starsky arrived outside Hutch’s apartment and waited for his partner to appear. A few seconds later, the door onto the street opened and Hutch came out, juggling a rucksack, a small suitcase, a box containing aluminium cooking equipment and a pile of maps. Starsky leapt out to open the trunk.

“We’re only going for one night, buddy! How come you’ve got so much stuff?”

“Just thought we should be prepared for any and all eventualities. I packed my campfire cooking gear and I got some canned food to go with the can opener Bigelow gave us. We won’t starve. Well, you might if you don’t like my choice of soup!”

Starsky rolled his eyes, before saying, “I got some Pillsbury Food Sticks from the bodega I passed on the way home.”

Hutch grimaced. “Aren’t those made from caramel and peanut butter? Hardly healthy.”

“Chocolate too.” Starsky smacked his lips noisily. “The peanut butter gives you energy and the chocolate caramel combination is just delicious. Anyway, when we get lost in the desert we’ll be glad to have them with us.”

“I keep telling you, we’re not going to get lost in the desert.”

“Hmm.”

Hutch dumped the case and rucksack but held onto the maps. He climbed in the passenger side and carefully opened one map as Starsky started the engine and drove towards the Metro building. Hutch folded the map over and considered the route mapped out on the paper before him.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said, Starsky, and I think you’re right. Someone always knows something they shouldn’t so I’m wondering if we should take a different route.”

Starsky glanced at him with a frown on his face.

“A different route than the I10? Like what?”

“Well, we could take the I10 as far as Quartzsite but after that we could head up Route 60 through the mountains via Wickenburg and drop down to Phoenix from the north.”

“Mountains?” Starsky echoed faintly. “Hutch, if anyone’s going to try anything, don’t you think it will happen before we leave California? Once we’re in Arizona, we’ll probably be home free.”

Hutch looked thoughtful and nodded his head slowly. “I guess…I was just thinking: if the Feds have managed to keep their plans secure, and it takes people a few hours to realise Woodfield’s on the move, then the men that want him dead might not get chance to organise anything until we’re well on our way.”

“Hmm. I suppose. I still think they’re more likely to try something while we’re still in California.”

“Well, okay, that given, maybe we should go really, really off the radar right from the start and take Route 62 cross country. We could still drop down to Quartzsite if we wanted and then travel Route 60…but we could avoid large towns all together and stay on the back roads completely.”

“How much time would it add onto the journey?”

“That’s the downside. Another three to four hours probably.”

Starsky grimaced.

“I’ll take a turn driving,” Hutch offered. “I know it’ll be a long drive but it might be safer.”

“Not worried about the driving as much as the thought of being stuck in a car with Woodfield for nine hours. Five was pushing it. Nine. I might not be able to keep my hands off him!”

Hutch clasped Starsky’s shoulder and said quietly, “Yeah, I know. I’m not looking forward to this assignment either.”

They drove the rest of the way to work in silence, each of them thinking about the job ahead. When they arrived at the Metro building, Starsky pulled the car in around the back and found a parking space where he could safely leave the Torino overnight. Before they got out of the car, Starsky asked Hutch for the map and gave the suggested routes a long hard look.

All of a sudden, he turned to his partner, one finger stabbing at the map as he stated firmly, “Hutch! No! No way! We are not driving across something called Vulture Mountains! Are you crazy?”

Hutch rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t mean we’ll see vultures or that they will try to attack you, dummy! We’ll be in a car. How are they going to get at you?”

“They go after things that are close to death though, don’t they? Those mountains gotta be called Vulture Mountains for a reason! I don’t care to find out why.” All of a sudden, Starsky’s voice dropped a little as he said, “What did I do to you? Are you trying to get rid of me?”

Hutch was about to joke that maybe he was looking for a new partner when some instinct stopped him. Starsky didn’t appear to be playing around. He appeared to be really unnerved at the prospect of taking the mountain road.

Hutch reached out and placed his hand on Starsky’s upper arm. “What’s going on, Starsk? You’ve been acting oddly for days. You got something on your mind?”

Starsky flushed slightly. He made a big show of folding the map back up and handing it to his partner.

“I’m fine. Just don’t fancy a mountain road trip. You know I hate the wilderness…even with a sea scout along to protect me. Hey, are there such things as mountain scouts? Get one of those to come along and I’ll let you drive us wherever you like.”

Hutch sighed but played along with Starsky’s attempt at levity. “I’ll ask Dobey if he knows of one…Look, if you really don’t want to go through the mountains, we’ll stick to the I10. It was just a suggestion. Okay?”

Starsky looked relieved. “Okay, good. We’d better get inside and see if there are any last minute instructions from Dobey.”

“Yeah, we better had.”

As they walked into the building, Hutch vowed to himself that as soon as this assignment was over, he was going to pin Starsky down and find out what was on his mind. Now wasn’t the time or place, but tomorrow night would be a good time. Hutch would take his partner to The Pits and not let him leave until Starsky had come clean.

The two of them headed towards the fifth floor and Squad Room 519. They walked past the room and knocked on Dobey’s office door, entering as soon as he bellowed admittance. A thin man in a grey suit was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the captain’s desk. Starsky took up a position leaning against the wall, hanging onto Dobey’s coat rack – something he’d done before when he wasn’t happy with what was going on. Hutch settled himself on the vacant chair and looked at Dobey and the Federal agent expectantly.

“This is Agent Gower. He’s here to deliver the vehicle to you and give you your last minute instructions,” Dobey explained.

“Good afternoon, detectives. First of all, thank you for agreeing to transport Mr Woodfield out of State.”

Starsky and Hutch exchanged bemused glances. To say it was novel to be thanked by the Feds for something was an understatement.

“When you get to Bay City Correctional Facility, you are to drive around to the secondary exit on the west of the facility. Agent Potts will meet you and oversee the handing over of Woodfield into your custody. I trust you have familiarised yourselves with our list of the safest places to stop along the way? Your Captain insists that you check in only with him and that he will then report to me.” Gower didn’t sound happy about the arrangement but then surprised everyone by adding, “I can understand his caution. I admit there have been mistakes made in the past by our department.”

“Well, thank you for that,” Dobey responded.

“That said; I must assure all of you that we have been very careful this time not to share information with anyone who doesn’t need to know. The details of Woodfield’s deal and his transfer have been kept a close-guarded secret. You shouldn’t have any problems on your journey.”

Starsky looked like he wanted to say, “He just had to say it, didn’t he?” but, quite admirably, he kept the thought to himself, only telegraphing his feelings to Hutch, who gave him a wry smile.

Dobey spoke across the silent conversation: “May I have a moment alone with my two officers before you send them on their way?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you both in the parking lot.”

Gower nodded at Dobey and then left the room. Dobey sat back in his chair and regarded his two detectives thoughtfully.

“Do you have everything you think you need? I trust Sergeant Bigelow allocated you the items you wanted.”

“Yes, sir. We’re well prepared,” Hutch replied.

“Good.” Dobey opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a petty cash tin. He unlocked it and handed Hutch forty dollars and asked him to sign a slip for it. “I know this is going to be an expensive trip for you to cover so that’s just a little advance to help with meals. Twenty dollars each should cover meals tonight and tomorrow.”

Hutch nodded and handed half the money to Starsky. “Thank you, sir. We appreciate it.”

“Yes, well, hmm, just don’t forget the receipts…So you will contact me en route and again this evening. Whatever time. I will be here.” Dobey couldn’t go with them but he could do his part to support them and keep them safe. “Any problems I will send help straightaway.”

Starsky nodded his thanks.

Hutch said, “We’ve talked it over…” Hutch paused and looked at his partner before continuing, “We’re planning on sticking to the I10 but if we get any inkling that someone knows what’s taking place then we might use Route 62 or 60 for part of the journey.”

“We’re hoping it won’t come to that,” Starsky muttered.

“We’ll do our best to get word to you if that happens.”

“Make sure you do,” Dobey advised.

“It might add a few hours to the journey if we have to use an alternate route. It might be quite late by the time we get to the facility in Phoenix so we can contact you at home if you prefer,” Hutch offered.

Dobey shook his head. “I’ll be here. Until you call to say you’ve delivered Woodfield and are safely settled in a motel for the night.”

Both detectives nodded to acknowledge their captain’s concern and loyalty.

“Well, I wish you a safe journey and I’ll speak to you later. You’d better go catch up with Gower,” Dobey said, dismissing them with a serious look that said ‘Be careful.’

Both detectives nodded at their captain, acknowledging his concern, before leaving his office and heading down to the lot behind Metro. When Starsky saw Gower, he groaned. The agent was leaning up against a 1973 Ford Galaxie 500 Station Wagon. It was two toned – pale blue and beige – and quite possibly the most boring car Starsky had ever set eyes on.

“Oh no!”

Without even looking, Starsky could tell Hutch was laughing and enjoying his partner’s sense of horror and outrage.

“Now, that’s a class ride,” Hutch said with glee.

Starsky mumbled a suitable reply for Hutch’s ears only, which had his partner grinning even more broadly.

Agent Gower held out the keys. “Who’s driving?”

Hutch was quick to reply with: “Oh my partner’s the driver on the first leg.”

Reluctantly, Starsky took the keys from Gower’s outstretched hand. Hutch opened the trunk of the car and headed over to the Torino, calling over his shoulder to his partner: “Why don’t you get acquainted with that beautiful girl while I transfer our belongings.”

Starsky gave into the situation and opened the driver’s door and slipped into the seat. He adjusted it until it was comfortable and then turned the key in the engine. It started first time, despite his wish that the vehicle would fail so they would be forced to take his beloved Torino instead. Despite what Hutch thought, his car was a great ride and a joy to drive. His thoughts were interrupted by Gower.

“Well, I’d better be heading back to the Bureau. I hope you have a trouble free journey, detectives.”

“Thanks,” Starsky said.

He heard Hutch answering from behind the car and switched the engine off as he climbed out in order to help stow their luggage and supplies neatly in the space in the back of the car. There was plenty of room for all the paraphernalia they’d decided to bring with them…just in case of trouble. Starsky tried to stop the little shudder that ran through him at the thought of taking the road over Vulture Mountain. He sure hoped that they would be able to stay on the I10 all the way to Phoenix. Driving on those lonely, mountain roads for miles and miles didn’t bear thinking about.

*****

Grumbling the entire way, Starsky put the station wagon through its paces and was quietly relieved that the engine at least seemed to be in good working order. It wasn’t his idea of a great car to drive but it should make the thousand-mile round trip to Phoenix in one piece. The luggage space (designed with families in mind) meant that they had room for all the supplies they’d packed and he had to admit that the driver’s seat was pretty comfortable. ‘Course he’d never tell Hutch that. Not even under duress!

Within twenty minutes they were driving on the road down to the correctional facility. As they drew up outside the west side of the prison, they both noted the vehicle parked just inside the locked gate: a typical small, prison transportation bus. Starsky drew the car to a halt at one side of the road and they watched as a guard unlocked the gate and the vehicle slowly approached them. When it stopped, a guard and a man in a grey suit climbed out.

The two detectives exited their vehicle and cautiously approached the dark blue bus. The agent greeted them and they both recognised him from their file as Agent Potts. They shook hands with him and exchanged pleasantries. All at once, Starsky and Hutch realised that the guard was ushering not one, but two, men in blue overalls out of the van. They looked at each other in confusion.

“What’s this about?” Starsky demanded. “One prisoner, we were told. Not two.”

Agent Potts looked slightly apologetic as he explained, “My orders were changed at the last minute by the Warden. You’re to deliver this man, Hatton, as well as Woodfield to the correctional facility outside Phoenix.”

CJ Woodfield descended from the van and squinted up at the bright sunlight; he looked a lot smaller and frailer than when the two detectives had last seen him. The second man was his antithesis. He was tall – taller than Hutch even – and broad across the chest. He looked as if his handcuffs barely fit around his substantial wrists and that he could snap them in two with the flick of a finger.

Starsky’s eyes widened. “What’s he in for?”

“Aggravated assault.”

Starsky exchanged looks with Hutch, who turned to the agent and said, “Look, I don’t think the vehicle we’ve been assigned is suitable for transferring such a prisoner and, more to the point, we weren’t told two prisoners. You’ll have to clear it with our captain.”

“The Warden’s already done that and he was happy for you to proceed. My Bureau Chief has signed off on it too.”

Starsky glanced at Hutch, eyes asking, “You believe him?”

Hutch gave an imperceptible shake of his head that no-one but Starsky would be able to interpret as: “Not sure.”

Out loud, Hutch stated, “We aren’t going anywhere until we see or hear some proof of that.”

Potts grabbed a clipboard from the front of the bus and showed it to Hutch. “See. Here are the transfer papers signed by the Prison Warden and the Federal Bureau Chief.”

Hutch checked the paperwork carefully and then looked at Starsky, using his eyes to indicate everything looked correct. Starsky gave a small nod back. Reluctantly, Hutch handed the clipboard back to Potts and took the handcuff keys he was being offered. The prison guard had already climbed back on board the bus and was waiting impatiently for the agent to join him.

“Well, I wish you a smooth ride,” Potts said somewhat awkwardly.

He nodded at both men and headed back on board the bus. As the engine started up, Woodfield shuffled towards the car and paused, looking them up and down.

“Well, good day, gentlemen. If it isn’t my least favourite detectives.”

Woodfield may have grown frail but the loss of vitality hadn’t diminished his arrogance at all. Starsky bit back his response, knowing it would only give the man pleasure to see him irritated.

Hutch opened the back door of the station wagon, saying, “Why don’t you get comfortable, Woodfield, while I discuss our travel arrangements with my partner?”

They both looked at Hatton, who was standing looking up at the sky like a small child enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on his face. The two detectives exchanged uneasy glances.

Quietly, Hutch asked, “Where do you want to sit? Think we should have one of them in the back and one in the front? Or both in the back?”

“Both in the back, where we can keep an eye on them,” Starsky was adamant. “You take first shift as watch dog, but I think we should change over regularly so we don’t lose attention. I don’t trust Woodfield as far as I can throw him and the big guy over there…well.”

Hutch nodded. He went to the trunk of the car and collected a shotgun and a box of ammo from it, which he stowed in the passenger well.

“Just in case there’s trouble from unexpected guests on the way,” he explained.

Starsky nodded approval. “You get in and keep an eye on Woodfield. I’ll go ask the big guy nicely if he’ll get in the car.”

Starsky picked his way across the stone-strewn, dusty road towards Hatton, warily looking out for any sign of aggression. He seemed peaceable enough.

“Hey, Hatton. It’s time to go now.”

The big man lowered his face and opened his eyes, blinking at Starsky in order to focus his eyes. He nodded slowly and started ambling towards the car.

“I’m Detective Starsky. My partner’s Detective Hutchinson. Don’t give us no trouble and we’ll get along fine.”

“No trouble,” Hatton said calmly and quietly. His voice sounded as if words weren’t something he used often.

“Why are you being sent to Phoenix?” Starsky wanted to know.

“Woodfield says go,” was the reply.

Starsky’s brow furrowed as he digested this piece of information. He opened the rear door of the car and helped Hatton slide in without banging his head. Hatton was so tall that his dark hair brushed the roof of the car. Starsky climbed into the driver’s side and turned to look at Hutch. His partner was sat sideways in his seat so that he could keep an eye on Hatton, who was behind Starsky, and Woodfield, who was sat on his side of the vehicle.

Starsky jerked a thumb towards Hatton and said, “Big guy here says he’s being transferred because of our dear friend there.”

“Oh?”

Both detectives turned and stared at Woodfield, who smiled serenely back.

“I may have lost my business empire but I am still a rich man. I can make certain things happen even from a prison cell. Hatton, here, is my trusted helper, my protector. He’s proved invaluable in keeping certain unsavoury types at arm’s length. It seemed only logical to take him with me rather than train up someone new.”

“You may be rich, but you’re an idiot!” Starsky retorted.

“Now, now, detective. There’s no need for name-calling. I can’t see how it affects you having one more passenger.”

Starsky looked like he was going to explode. Hutch calmed him with a look and his fingers gently pressing down the hand that was threatening to do damage to the arrogant man sat behind them.

“What my partner is trying to tell you, Woodfield, is that you may have put all our lives in danger with that seemingly insignificant decision. How many people know about Hatton’s transfer? How many people has he told?”

Woodfield didn’t look perturbed in the slightest. Hatton on the other hand looked confused.

“My friend here has no close family so he has told no-one. Only my lawyer knows of our arrangement and he is utterly devoted to me.”

“I hope you’re right about that,” Hutch said. He looked at Starsky and they exchanged a few silent thoughts before Hutch suggested, “We’d better get going, partner.”

Starsky nodded and turned the key to start the engine.

Woodfield coughed slightly and leaned forward, saying, “Before we get underway, how about removing our handcuffs? This is a most uncivilised way to travel.”

Starsky shook his head. “No way!”

Hutch nodded agreement. “Sorry, but those cuffs are staying on. Behave yourselves and we may let you take them off when we stop for food.”

Woodfield settled back in his seat. “As you wish…although I can tell you neither of us wishes you gentlemen harm. On the contrary, we are most grateful for you taking us to our new quarters in Phoenix. This is a far more civilised way to travel than on board a prison bus. Isn’t that right, Hatton?”

“Yes, Mr Woodfield.”

Starsky cast a look at Hutch, which his partner interpreted as disbelief.

“Well, we’ll do our job and get you there in one piece if we can,” Hutch stated. “Just keep quiet and let us do our jobs.”

“Fine, fine.”

Hutch could feel Starsky’s level of alertness match his own as they pulled out onto the main route leading from prison outside Bay City and started heading towards the junction for the I10. Both of them were on the lookout for any sign of trouble. Starsky assessed the way ahead and the streets coming up beside them. Hutch watched the rear view and the interior of the car. Both of them knew this was going to be a long journey. They could only hope it would be trouble-free although both of them sincerely doubted it.

 

Chapter Three

The first two hours of the trip passed uneventfully and the two detectives began to relax a little. But only a little. Maybe, for once, the security around the operation was airtight and no-one (beyond the people who should) knew what was happening but they would still only believe it if they arrived in Phoenix without incident. As they passed by Palm Springs, Hutch took a moment to check their route on the map again.

“About half an hour and we’ll come to Indio in the Coachello Valley. That might be a good place to stop and stretch our legs. What do you think, Starsky?”

Starsky glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and asked, “Is that one of the designated stops?”

“Nope.”

Starsky grinned. “Then that sounds perfect.”

“You want to have a break from driving or are you okay?”

“I’m good for a couple more hours,” Starsky replied. “Maybe after our next stop, we can do a swap?”

Hutch nodded and went back to keeping an eye on the road behind them. The scenery was quite spectacular with the San Jacinto Mountain rising ahead of them. There was a mixture of desert terrain and farmland as they travelled nearer to the city. About twenty-five minutes on, they started seeing signs advertising the City of Indio, its businesses and the Coachello Valley History Museum. On the outskirts of the city, they spotted a roadside dinner and pulled over.

“Do you want to check out the place, Hutch? I’ll fill up first then, if you think it’s okay, we can park round the back before we go inside.”

Hutch nodded. Before he got out of the car, he turned to Woodfield and Hatton to advise them, “Don’t try anything. My partner can shoot faster than you can move.”

Woodfield huffed his annoyance. “I assure you, Detective Starsky, we’re not going anywhere without your permission.”

“See that you don’t…and I’m Hutchinson. He’s Starsky.”

With that cleared up, both detectives got out of the station wagon. Hutch headed quickly towards the diner to have a look inside while Starsky stood by the pumps and watched as the attendant filled the car with gas. When the tank was full, he paid the man with the right number of bills and asked for a receipt. Hutch came back and told his partner that the place looked safe and clean. As soon as the attendant had given Starsky his receipt, the both climbed back into the vehicle and moved it to a spot just out of sight of the main road.

Hutch turned to the prisoners in the back and spoke firmly, “We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves if we can help it so we will remove your handcuffs while we go inside the diner. You can both have bathroom break and then we’ll order drinks. Half an hour and then we’ll get going again. Understood.”

“Perfectly clear, thank you,” Woodfield assured him and Hatton nodded.

Hutch undid Hatton’s cuffs while Starsky unlocked Woodfield’s. Both men rubbed their wrists and sighed with relief before getting out of the car. There was no getting away from the fact that they were both wearing blue overalls, but at a pinch they looked like something workmen might wear. Hutch hoped it wasn’t too obvious the men were prisoners. Hutch locked the shotgun back in the trunk and collected a map to take in with them.

The four of them made their way into the diner and picked a booth near the door. Hutch accompanied first Woodfield and then Hatton to the restroom while Starsky sat on guard when each man was sat in the booth. The waitress came over and took their orders for coffees and Starsky asked for a slice of apple pie. Hatton looked so hopeful, Starsky took pity on him and ordered one for him as well. With reluctance, he asked Woodfield if he wanted anything.

“Thank you, Mr Starsky, most kind. My dear, what kind of muffins do you have?”

“Blueberry or apple cinnamon, hon.”

“Apple cinnamon then. Thank you, my dear.”

Hutch nodded to Starsky indicating that he was going to use the restroom and his partner nodded back.

“That everything?” the waitress asked, before she went to fulfil their order.

“One blueberry muffin as well,” Starsky said with a friendly smile.

The waitress hurried off to get their drinks. By the time Hutch returned, the waitress was just pouring their coffees. Starsky paid Dotty, for that was her name, and asked her for a receipt. As he sat down at the table, Hutch noticed a blueberry muffin had been put in front of his seat. He raised an eyebrow at Starsky, who was now digging into his apple pie with gusto.

“What’s this?”

“A blueberry muffin…Don’t say you’re not interested. You know you want it!” Hutch went to protest but Starsky cut him off, “You need to eat, partner. If you get hungry, you won’t concentrate so well. We need to keep our wits about us. ‘Sides it’s healthy, it’s got fruit in it.”

The muffin did smell good and Hutch decided to give in graciously for once rather than arguing with his partner and telling him how much sugar the muffin also had in it. Dotty came back with a receipt and Starsky carefully folded it and placed it in his wallet.

“Careful, partner. Too many proper receipts will give Dobey a shock he might not recover from!” Hutch teased.

“Ha ha!”

As soon as Starsky finished his pie, he excused himself to go and use the restroom while the others were finishing their drinks. Hutch took the opportunity to take another good look at the map and check the alternate routes coming up, just in case they were needed. He sensed Starsky’s approach, even before he felt the hand on his shoulder.

“All right, partner? Ready to get going?”

Hutch nodded and folded the map back up. Starsky sent Hatton out ahead of him and Hutch walked behind Woodfield as far as the car, where they proceeded again to put handcuffs on both men. Once everyone was settled back in the car, Starsky started the engine and steered the car back onto the I10 in the direction of Phoenix.

“Only another two hundred and forty five miles to go,” Starsky observed. “Where are we going to make our next stop?”

“Well, the Feds suggested Quartzsite but I thought maybe we’d stop at Ehrenberg, on the Colorado River just into Arizona, and report into Dobey from there. It’s before Quartzsite and only about ninety minutes on from here. There’s not much conveniently placed straight after Quartzsite. Not that I can see, anyway.”

“Okay, let’s see how we get on. We can make a decision when we get near Ehrenberg.”

By now, they were beginning to be able to see the edge of the Joshua Tree National Park and signs inviting travellers to take a break at one of the camping grounds within.

“You know, we should come out this way sometime,” Hutch said wistfully. “I bet camping out here would be great. Right out in the wilderness in all its glory. How about it, partner? Next vacation?”

Starsky grunted a non-committal, “Maybe.”

Hutch sighed and tried not to look too disappointed.

Starsky glanced at his partner and said quietly, “All right…If we survive this trip, I’ll let you drag me back here. It does look kinda spectacular.”

He was rewarded by a brilliant smile. Then they both got back to the serious business of watching their companions and the road.

*****

When they made their brief pit stop at Ehrenberg, they reported in to Dobey, who was very relieved to hear from them. Hutch let him know that they were still on the I10 and all was going well and gave his captain an estimated time of arrival at Phoenix. Starsky decided he was okay with staying behind the steering wheel for a while longer and, knowing how much his partner loved to drive, Hutch didn’t argue. They had left Ehrenberg behind and were nearly at Quartzsite when trouble hit.

“Starsk. I think we might have company.”

Hutch’s voice was soft as he gave his warning. He shifted in his seat, winding down his window and placing the shotgun across his lap while Starsky peered into the rear-view mirror and noted the four-door, black saloon that had appeared in its reflection and that seemed determined to catch up with them.

“I see it. What’s our plan?”

“If they look like they’re gonna make a move, I’ll try and shoot out their tyres.”

Starsky spoke to the men sitting in the back. “If we say ‘down’, hunker down. Unless you want to get hit by a bullet.”

Before Woodfield could open his mouth to protest, Hatton grabbed him around the shoulders and shoved him down out of sight of the windows. He lowered his large frame as much as he could until he was partially covering Woodfield and had his own head out of any danger.

Hutch shouted a warning, “Here they come!”

There was the sound of breaking glass as one bullet hit the back window. It was quickly followed by more bullets making holes in the bodywork of the car. Starsky tried to hold the car steady as Hutch lent out of the window and took aim. His first two shots missed, hitting the road and causing chips of asphalt to fly up but his third shot found its target. The tyre blew and the car skidded to the side of the road.

“Good shooting, partner, although it won’t take ‘em long to change tyres and try again,” Starsky observed.

“No, it won’t,” Hutch agreed as he safely settled himself in the passenger seat again. “You can sit up again,” he said to Woodfield and Hatton. “You both okay?” He briefly did a visual inspection of both prisoners. When they appeared to be unharmed, he turned his attention back to his partner. “Think we’ve got no choice now, pal. Drive us as far ahead on this road as you can get us and then turn off at the junction for Route 60 to Vicksburg and Salome. Hopefully by the time they realise we aren’t on the I10 anymore, we’ll be well ahead and it will be too far for them to catch up.”

“Won’t they just call ahead and look for us when we get onto Route 62 between Wickenburg and Phoenix?”

“Yeah…Been thinking maybe we turn off at Aguila and go over the mountain road and down to re-join the I10 for the last couple of miles before Phoenix. They won’t expect that.”

Starsky swallowed hard. “The mountain road. Over Vulture Mountains, you mean?”

“Yeah. Over Vulture Mountains.”

Starsky’s hands tightened on the steering wheel but he nodded his head none-the-less and said, “Whatever you think’s best, partner. I trust your judgement.”

“Okay.”

In the back of the car, Woodfield and Hatton exchanged looks but didn’t say anything. Starsky kept the car travelling as fast as he dared and very soon the junction to Route 60 came into view. Shortly after, the station wagon was making its way along the route towards Vicksburg, which would then take them through the Harquahala Mountain range and then on to Aguila and Vulture Mountains.

*****

They were just on the outskirts of Aguila when Hutch spotted the black saloon car again. It was slowly gaining ground, shortening the distance between them.

“Our friends are back,” Hutch announced.

“What do ya wanna do?” Starsky asked.

“Think we should find a place to hold our ground. What do you think?”

“Yeah, maybe…else they’re just going to keep coming after us. I’ll see if I can find a good place with some solid cover.”

Starsky kept his foot on the gas pedal as he quickly searched for a suitable place to stop. He found it in the form of a disused junk yard. Swiftly spinning the car to the left, he crossed the carriageway and pulled into the yard. He drove through the piles of broken cars towards the old rusty cabin that had once been a makeshift office. Screeching to a halt, he leapt out and broke the door open with a kick while Hutch helped Woodfield out of the car. Hatton realised what the two detectives intended and grabbed Woodfield and hurried him through the door into the cabin.

“Stay low. We’ll be back for ya,” Starsky shouted as he dove back into the car.

Hutch was still closing the car door as Starsky spun the vehicle around and drove back towards the entrance to the yard. He spun the car sideways just as the black saloon car hurtled across the highway and came towards them, guns blazing. Two cars, that happened to be passing by, quickly sped up to avoid what was happening.

Hutch flung the car door open and propelled himself out and onto the ground as quickly as he could so that Starsky could follow him out of the passenger side. The two of them wriggled across the ground and took shelter behind a pile of rusty chassis. They took stock of where their enemies’ shots were coming from and then rose up to return fire. Starsky hit one man high in the shoulder. He went down with a yelp of pain and one of his compatriots dragged him back under cover.

Hutch reloaded his shotgun as the two of them agreed a plan in whispered words. One of them would try to manoeuvre to the side of the group while the other one kept them busy. There was more cover on Hutch’s side so he crawled and ran between junk piles while Starsky kept the group engaged with shots. As soon as Hutch was in position, he popped up from behind an oil barrel and fired, hitting one man in the leg. Starsky then moved up, firing as he went. Suddenly it was over. The two uninjured men surrendered, having realised that they were caught between the two detectives and likely to end up wounded like their friends.

“I’ll keep an eye on them while you get something to tie them up with,” Starsky said.

Hutch hurried to the station wagon and pulled some coils of rope from the trunk. He cut them into suitable lengths and tied the men’s hands and feet.

“I’m sure the local police are on the way,” Hutch said. “I expect those cars that went by will have reported gunfire to the county sheriff at Aguila. They’ll be here soon to arrest you and see to your injuries.”

“Won’t help you though, pig,” one man snarled. “There are more than just us out looking for Woodfield. And I reckon the local sheriff might take his time getting here, if he knows what’s good for him. You’re going to need nine lives to make it to Phoenix.”

Hutch exchanged worried glances with Starsky. Without speaking, they climbed back into the car and went to collect Woodfield and Hatton. Once everyone was safely back in the station wagon, Starsky sped out of the junkyard and along the highway once more.

Abruptly, Hutch ordered, “Starsky, turn right ahead.”

“What?”

“Turn right.”

“What? Where?”

“There!”

Hutch pointed at a small road ahead on the right. If they’d have been going any faster they would have missed it entirely. Muttering under his breath, Starsky twisted the wheel and turned the station wagon onto a road that was little more than a track. They passed a faded sign that said, ‘Harquahala Peak Observatory’. It was hanging askew. Clearly the observatory wasn’t still used.

“Hutch? Where are you taking us?” Starsky demanded as he slowed the speed of the car and gingerly drove up the bumpy track.

“This is the Harquahala Mountain Peak Road. It will eventually bring us down to join the I10. I figure whoever’s looking for us now will think we’re headed towards Wickenburg and Route 60. We can go this way and no-one will find us.”

Starsky glanced quickly at his partner. “I don’t like the sound of that!” He turned his attention back to the road, gripping tightly onto the steering wheel. “I don’t like the look of this track. The station wagon’s not built for this terrain! I think I’d rather take my chances on Route 60. This is barely even a road, Hutch!”

“Well, it’s bumpy but it will get us to where we want to be…and we won’t have to go through Vulture Mountains, which should make you happy.”

Starsky made a non-committal grunting noise.

Woodfield chipped in: “This is madness! Anything could happen on a road like this. What if we get a flat? I insist you go back to the main highway!”

“Shut up, Woodfield!” both detectives said at the same time. They couldn’t help smirking at each other before returning their attention to the road ahead and behind.

“How long is it going to climb like this?” Starsky asked as the track began to ascend the mountain range.

Hutch consulted the map. “About five miles to the summit and then five miles down the other side.”

Starsky swallowed but didn’t say anything. He was too busy trying to keep the car in the middle of what was a very narrow strip of flattish ground. Who knew what would happen if they met another vehicle? There didn’t seem to be any passing places. In fact, the terrain seemed to getting steeper on both sides. Starsky began to feel slightly nauseous and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Hutch glanced over and noticed his friend’s white knuckles and pale face.

“Hey, you okay?”

Starsky stayed quiet for a moment and then shook his head slightly. He pressed the brake pedal and slowed the car to a stop.

“I don’t feel so good. I feel like the car’s going to go over the edge.”

“Oh. Let’s swap places. I’ll drive for a while.”

Starsky didn’t know which would make him feel worse: not having control over his own fate on this horribly dangerous road or continuing to look at the drop either side of the car. Slightly reluctantly, he nodded and carefully opened the car door. He eased his way out and slid along the chassis around the back of the car and into the passenger side while Hutch walked around the front and got in on the driver’s side. It was a relief to him to sit sideways and not look at the drop anymore.

“Put your seatbelt on, Starsky,” Hutch advised, as he did up his own belt and then started the engine.

“Can’t. Makes it too hard to sit sideways and keep watch out the back,” Starsky responded.

“Put it on anyway.”

Rolling his eyes at Hutch’s mother hen routine, Starsky nevertheless did as he was told and strapped himself in, although he had to keep the belt extended to be able to sit sideways and keep an eye on the occupants in the rear of the car.

“So where does this road come out? How far from Phoenix?”

“Check the map but I seem to recall it comes out near a place called Buckeye.”

“Buckeye? That’s the name of a tree, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, horse chestnut, I think. Isn’t Ohio known as the Buckeye State?”

“I have no idea!”

Hutch’s attention was taken with a particularly lumpy piece of track and Starsky was just calculating the distance from Buckeye to Phoenix when, without warning, they both found themselves being attacked. Starsky was hit by something hard on the side of the head and Hutch found a large pair of hands choking his windpipe.

Dazed for just a second, Starsky couldn’t help wondering how Woodfield had been able to conceal something he’d picked up in the junk yard. Aware of the danger they were all in, he shook his head and went to punch Woodfield and prevent him from striking again so that he could help his partner. Hutch was trying to hold the steering wheel with one hand, dislodge Hatton’s hands with the other and brake with his foot at the same time.

Abruptly, he lost control of the car and it tipped over the side of the mountain, skidding over shale and starting to pick up momentum. It bounced off a large boulder and spun to the side. The occupants of the station wagon where all thrown against the sides of the car and Hatton had no choice but to release his grip on Hutch’s throat. The ground dropped away and the car tipped down at a sixty-five degree angle before flipping end over end. Hutch just had time to think, “Not again!” before everything went black.

 

Chapter Four

The throbbing in his head was the first sensation Hutch became aware of as he headed towards consciousness. Had he and Starsky been drinking last night? He didn’t think so. As Hutch came to, he realised that he was hanging upside down. His head was pounding from his body protesting at being the wrong way up. Maybe he had hit his head on the windshield as well. He wasn’t sure. He felt totally disoriented and it took him a moment to realise that the windshield was no longer there. The car had come to rest against a boulder that was blocking any light from getting into the front of the car and would also stop him exiting that way. He became aware of a dull ache in his chest from where the seatbelt had kept him in place and, weirdly, his throat felt sore. He coughed slightly.

Hatton! Hatton had been trying to strangle him! That was why he had lost control of the station wagon and they had come off the mountain road. Now, he remembered that the car had flipped over just before he’d passed out. For one awful moment, he was thrown backwards into the realm of memory; again trapped in the wreck of his old car, leg broken, covered in lacerations, suffering from concussion and internal bleeding and not sure whether Starsky would find him in time or whether his luck had finally run out.

Starsky!

Hutch was abruptly thrown forwards to the present and his current predicament. It seemed his seatbelt had held, which was why he was now hanging upside down and mercifully pretty much unharmed – just a few bruises and scratches. But there was no-one next to him. The passenger side was empty, a broken seatbelt the only indication that there had ever been an occupant. Hutch felt his heart leap into his throat. Starsky must have been thrown through the windshield and out of the car. Hutch tugged at the seatbelt and pushed the release but nothing happened. He had to get out of here and find his partner. Starsky was out there somewhere, probably injured, maybe worse.

Hutch suddenly became aware of how quiet it was. What about their prisoners? From his awkward position, he tried to see into the back of the car and realised that he was alone. The rear windshield was missing. Had it been kicked out or fallen out as a result of the car flipping over. Just how many times had the car rolled? Hutch tried again to unclip the belt holding him in place but found it was still jammed and wouldn’t undo – even with his repeatedly frantic attempts to dislodge it.

Trying to quell the sense of panic threatening to surge through him, Hutch looked around for his jacket and spotted it against the other side of the car. He stretched out and snagged it with his fingers, drawing it close so that he could reach inside a pocket and locate the penknife he had placed there earlier in the day. After flipping it open, he used it to saw through the strap and then managed to lower himself down onto the roof of the car. He twisted in place until he could use his legs to kick out the fractured glass in the driver’s window. Once the hole was clear of fragments, he crawled out, first wriggling on his stomach and then moving onto his hands and knees once he was out on the dry, dusty earth surrounding the car.

Slowly, he attempted to stand up, only to have to pause with hands on knees as a wave of dizziness hit. He allowed it to pass and then checked himself over for injuries. Then he hurriedly slipped into his jacket and started to look around to see if he could locate Starsky and either of the prisoners. A few yards away, he saw a pair of legs in pale blue trousers. It was one of the prisoners. Hutch hurried over, only to find he was looking at the corpse of CJ Woodfield. Hutch could see straight away that the frail man’s neck had broken when he’d been thrown from the car. Feeling bile rising in his throat, Hutch turned away and began to search frantically for the other prisoner and, more importantly, for his partner.

There were patches of scrub layering the hillside between the car and the road which they had skidded down. Hutch systematically made his way up the hillside in a sweeping pattern, every few yards calling out his partner’s name. He stopped for a moment to see how far he had come from the car and to try to judge where Starsky might have ended up. It was then he saw a pair of legs a few yards away. Legs wearing jeans not a prison uniform. He froze where he stood; afraid that he would find his partner in a similar condition to Woodfield and unable to face the prospect. Then he was scrambling across the scree-covered mountainside towards his motionless partner.

“Starsky!”

His partner was lying flat on his back, one leg and arm splayed out at a slightly odd angle, his head obscured by a low, thin scrubby looking bush. When Hutch was close enough, he could see Starsky was bleeding from a small cut on his head.

“Starsky!”

There was no response but, as Hutch dropped down beside his partner and began to check him for a pulse, he heard a small moan escape his partner’s lips. With relief, Hutch realised his partner was breathing fine and had a strong pulse.

“Thank God,” Hutch murmured, casting his eyes upwards. “Hey, Starsk, take it easy. Don’t move yet,” he advised as his partner began to stir. Hutch started his assessment of his partner’s condition from Starsky’s feet and carried on upwards. Nothing appeared to be broken as far as ankles and legs were concerned. Hutch cautiously felt around Starsky’s hips and back, checking for lumps and wounds, and slowly moving higher. Starsky’s eyelids shot open and dark blue eyes regarded him first with shock then sudden pain.

“Owwwwwww!”

Starsky closed his eyes again and held his breath, afraid to move.

“Where does it hurt?” a very worried Hutch demanded.

“Sh-shoulder,” Starsky managed to gasp between gritted teeth.

Now that Hutch looked more closely, the splayed arm that was attached to Starsky’s right shoulder didn’t look as it should. It was squared off not rounded. Grimacing in anticipation, Hutch very gently slid his fingers under Starsky’s right shoulder and felt for damage. As he moved his hand to the front of the shoulder, he felt it: a lump that should not be there. Even the tiny pressure of Hutch’s fingers was too much and Starsky again cried out with pain.

“Sorry, pal. I think you’ve dislocated your shoulder.”

“N-No…k-kidding!”

Hutch ignored the sarcastic comment and carried on reporting his condition to his partner, “You’ve got a small cut on your forehead. I’m sure you’ve got lots of bruises but nothing appears to be broken. So that’s some good news.”

“W-What about you? You okay, pal?”

“Me? I’m okay.”

“What about your head?…I can see a bump.”

Surprised, Hutch touched his own head and winced. Oh. He’d been correct; his head must have hit the windshield at some point while the car was falling and now he had a small lump to show for it. Maybe not so small if Starsky could see it.

“It’s nothing. I got lucky,” Hutch assured his partner.

Somehow Starsky’s gun was still in his holster. Hutch carefully removed the weapon and then used his penknife to cut the elastic on Starsky’s holster so he could ease it away from the shoulder area and make his partner more comfortable. He placed the gun near Starsky’s hand where he could reach it if he should need to.

“Stay put, Gordo, and I’ll go get the first aid kit from the car…assuming it’s still there, of course.”

Hutch stood up and was about to leave when Starsky stopped him: “Hutch? What about the prisoners? Shouldn’t you go after them?”

“Don’t worry about the prisoners. We’ll catch up with them later. Right now, my main concern is getting you patched up and then finding some shelter for the night. It’s not that long till night-fall and it’ll be cold when the sun goes down.”

Starsky tried to nod and regretted it. He groaned.

“Stay still, pal,” Hutch repeated, “I’ll be back as quick as I can.” Then he set off, briskly retracing his steps to the smashed up station wagon. When he arrived at the wreck he found himself thinking, “Give it its due, the frame of the station wagon held up pretty well. Ford knows how to make safe, solid cars.”

Hutch carefully pushed at what remained of the smashed back window until the last pieces of broken glass fell into the interior of the upside down car. Then he began searching through the tumbled pile of belongings. He was glad to see that most of their supplies were intact.

First of all, Hutch tried the handheld radios, turning the dials to different frequencies to see if he could pick up any local channels. All he got was static. He stowed the radios safely and then stacked the duffle bags, the box containing the camping stove and cans beside the car before grabbing the first aid kit, a thermal blanket and a water bottle. Then he quickly made his way back up the hill towards his partner. As he got closer he could see Starsky was still conscious but his colour wasn’t looking as good as it had been.

“How are you doing, partner?”

“I’ve had better days…but I’m okay.”

Starsky watched as Hutch placed the first aid kit on the ground, unclipped the latches and produced an antiseptic wipe. Starsky winced slightly as Hutch cleaned his head wound and then stuck a large Band-Aid over it.

“There. Good as new. Just a scratch, fortunately,” Hutch informed his partner. “Right, we need to get some fluids into you, which would be easier to do if you’re sat up. So let’s get your shoulder sorted out. That means immobilising it so you can move around more easily and without causing further damage,” Hutch said. He started to look in the box for a sling.

“Yeah. Been thinking we need to get me up and get my arm in a sling if we can. Would be even better if we could push the shoulder back in,” Starsky observed.

Hutch turned to look at him and shook his head. “I don’t feel qualified to even attempt to do that, Starsk. I don’t want to make things worse. I think we should just immobilise your shoulder. I know it will hurt but it would be the best course of action until we can get you to a hospital.”

Starsky thought for a minute and then said, “All right.”

Hutch turned away to continue his search for the sling and some safety pins and suddenly heard the sound of movement and what could only be described as a scream from Starsky. He turned to see his partner had rolled onto his wounded shoulder and then carried on moving until he was flat on his back again. They both heard the pop as the top of the arm rolled back into the socket.

Starsky mumbled, “It worked!” and then passed out.

Alarmed, Hutch rushed to Starsky’s side and checked his pulse, which was now beating a little faster than it should have been but it gradually calmed as he monitored it. After a few minutes, Starsky came to.

“What did you do that for, dummy?” Hutch demanded. “I always knew you were crazy! What if it hadn’t worked? You could have caused yourself a lot more damage.”

Starsky looked slightly contrite, but not very.

Hutch sighed. “How did you know how to do that anyway?”

Starsky started to struggle into a sitting position and Hutch helped him up.

“Saw someone do it once in the army…Thought I should give it a try…We weren’t going to get far with me having a dislocated shoulder,” Starsky gasped with pain between each comment. “Ow…It hurts, Hutch. I thought it would be better once it was back in,” he admitted.

“Let’s get your arm in that sling. That will help with the pain. And here, take these,” Hutch passed two aspirin and a flask of water to his friend. “I know they’re not that strong but it’s all we’ve got and hopefully they will dull the pain a bit.”

Starsky drank gratefully and then swallowed the pills and washed them down with more water.

“Now I need to pee,” he grumbled.

Hutch rolled his eyes. “Let me sort your arm out then you can go pee!”

Hutch lifted Starsky’s arm carefully until it was across his stomach, then he wrapped the sling and pinned it above his left shoulder and at the elbow, just like he’d been taught on his emergency first aid training.

“How’s that?”

“Better.” Starsky grabbed Hutch’s hand and squeezed it. “Thanks, pal.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Help me up.”

Hutch carefully assisted Starsky to get to his feet and hung onto him as he found his legs.

“Really gotta go pee now,” Starsky said. He walked slowly across the hillside towards a small tree and stumbled slightly but managed to stay on his feet.

“Be careful,” Hutch called. “I don’t want to have to bandage anything else!”

He heard Starsky chuckle as he disappeared behind the tree.

Hutch collected Starsky’s gun and placed it in the waistband of his pants. Then he picked up the thermal blanket and waited. As soon as Starsky reappeared, Hutch offered him the blanket and helped to wrap it around his friend so that he could hold it with one hand in front of his chest. Starsky’s colour wasn’t any worse but he was starting to shiver.

“Let’s go get a fire started,” Hutch suggested.

He picked up the flask and first aid kit and then headed down the hillside. He walked at a steady pace so that Starsky could keep up and pick his way carefully across the rough ground. Hutch was well aware that the sun had descended substantially in the last few minutes. He wanted to get them settled and a good fire going before night arrived.

When they reached the wrecked station wagon, Starsky gave a low whistle. “What a mess!”

“Oh I don’t know. Think the Galaxie held together pretty well, wouldn’t you agree?”

Starsky grimaced, but conceded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Better than your red and white tomato would have, I reckon,” Hutch said, as he gathered up the camping stove, the box and one duffle bag.

“Hey, that’s just cruel, kicking a guy when he’s down,” Starsky protested.

Hutch smirked at him and Starsky grinned back along with a shake of his head.

“Wish I could help you, pal. Sorry I’m pretty much out of commission.”

“Hey, don’t worry, partner. You just look after that shoulder.”

“What about the radios? Should we see if we can pick up anyone on a local channel?”

“Already tried and nothing doing. We can try again in the morning when we’ve travelled a bit closer to civilisation.”

Hutch started walking to the right of the car, towards a lower patch of land that was more horizontal than vertical. “Let’s make camp over there. The ground looks flatter and there’s a cottonwood tree you can lean up against while I get a fire going.”

Starsky followed along behind, trying not to let Hutch hear him moan. The shoulder was feeling easier but it was still painful. He was glad when they reached the tree and Hutch helped him to sit down against it. He watched as Hutch gathered some small rocks and made a circle with them, then filled the centre with dried leaves and small twigs as kindling and then added some larger twigs and small branches. Then he found the matches in the bottom of one backpack and set the kindling ablaze.

“Hey, that was neat. Didn’t know Seas Scouts could make fires.”

“We’re a multi-talented lot… I’m leaving you in charge while I collect some more branches. Put that one on in a few minutes.”

“How far are you going?” Starsky worried. It was starting to get dark and he didn’t like the idea of Hutch wandering around the wilderness on his own. Or being left to fight off scorpions, spiders and coyotes by himself.

“I won’t be long. Just want to make sure we can get a good supply set up before it gets pitch black. The trees are a bit sparse around here, but I spotted a small group of them over there.” Hutch pointed west. “See?”

Starsky couldn’t see anything even vaguely resembling another tree but he took Hutch’s word for it.

“Soon as we’re stocked up with fuel, I can get some soup cooking.”

Starsky’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food and Hutch chuckled as he walked away. Starsky kept an eye on his partner until he was out of sight then he turned his attention to the fire. Dutifully, and with some effort, he placed the branch Hutch had left within hand’s reach onto the fire and was rewarded by the crackle and pop of the flames licking their way over the new piece of fuel. Starsky looked around, keeping an eye and an ear out for coyotes.

Vultures! He’d forgotten about the vultures! But they only searched for carrion during daylight hours, didn’t they? So he and Hutch would be safe enough overnight. Starsky shuddered and pulled the blanket tighter around himself.

He was relieved when he saw Hutch returning a few minutes later. Hutch dropped the branches he’d collected in a pile by the fire and turned to check on his partner. He was concerned to see Starsky appeared to be cold and in pain.

“You all right?” Hutch asked anxiously.

“Yeah. Nah. To be honest, my shoulder’s aching pretty bad, Hutch…And is it me or is it getting a lot colder?” Starsky wondered.

“Yes, it’s getting colder. We knew it would when the sun started going down…I’m sorry I can’t do anything else for your shoulder though.”

Hutch sounded so guilty, Starsky’s attention was immediately diverted away from the pain in his shoulder to dealing with his partner’s sense of blame instead.

“The crash wasn’t your fault, Hutch.”

“It was my stupid idea to go over the mountains.”

“Well, yeah it was…but you were right about it being safer to stay off the I10. We’d both be in bad shape if the next set of goons had caught up to us. We know from the guys we left tied up that there are more than just those guys looking for us and Woodfield.” Starsky snorted with disgust. “Who knew Woodfield was such a moron. His plans to take Hatton with him sure backfired. That must be how people found out, don’t ya think? Thought he was supposed to be a clever man?”

Hutch shook his head indicating similar disgust and busied himself with setting up a tripod of branches over the fire and then placing a metal pan on top so that it was nestled safely above the fire where it could get warm. He opened two cans of soup and poured the contents into the pan. Then he added some more fuel to the fire.

Starsky watched in fond amusement as Hutch unpacked his camping box and produced two white enamel mugs and spoons and set them to the side of the fire.

“You just love your camping, don’t you?”

Hutch couldn’t help grinning. “Yeah. Sorry for the circumstances but there’s nothing quite like sitting out under the stars staring into a fire.”

Starsky didn’t make the mistake of looking up at the night sky. He didn’t want to jostle his shoulder. It was just starting to settle down to a dull ache. He stared into the fire instead and sniffed the air to see if he could smell the soup yet. He was starting to feel really hungry. An empty groaning from his stomach chimed in to accompany his thoughts.

Trying to distract himself from his now loudly rumbling stomach, Starsky asked, “Think Hatton’s got far?”

“No. Not far.”

“Having Woodfield along will sure slow him down.”

Hutch made a non-committal noise that immediately alerted Starsky to the fact that there was something Hutch wasn’t telling him.

“Hutch?”

Keeping his face turned away, Hutch said quietly, “Woodfield’s dead. He broke his neck when he was flung from the car.”

“Oh.” The word was a hiss of air. Starsky couldn’t help thinking: “That could have happened to me!” He pulled the blanket closer and wondered why he suddenly felt so cold. He turned his attention back to Hutch and noted the stiff set of his friend’s shoulders. “Hey, pal. You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Starsky could tell Hutch was bothered about the manner of Woodfield’s death for some reason. “I know it was a horrible way to go but, let’s face it, he was a horrible human being and I ain’t going to lose any sleep over him. Don’t let his death bother you.”

Deciding the fire was going well enough to heat their supper, Hutch nodded as he moved back to sit next to his friend for a few minutes.

“Yeah, I hear what you’re saying. It just unsettled me a bit…Straight after I found him, I found you….and for one minute, I thought…”

“Oh.” Starsky reached out with his good hand and patted his partner’s shoulder. “S-Still here, pal. T-Thanks to you.”

Starsky was shivering so badly, he stammered as he tried to speak through his chattering teeth. Hutch looked at him with concern before reaching into the backpack Bigalow had given them and pulling out the second blanket they’d been allowed. He got Starsky to move so he could slip the blanket under his legs and behind his back for him to sit on, hoping to ease the chill his friend was feeling. Then he took his own jacket off and laid it over Starsky’s legs.

“W-Whatcha doing, B-Blintz? Y-You’ll get c-cold,” Starsky protested through his still chattering teeth. “No p-point both of us d-dying from exposure.”

Hutch smiled slightly as he tried to reassure his injured partner. “We’re not going to die, Gordo, and I’m trying to warm you up, you numbskull. How about you share that blanket and we can share body heat as well? Okay?”

Starsky nodded and unclenched the tight hold he had on one edge of the blanket so that Hutch could move closer and wrap it around both of them. He could feel Starsky shaking against his side.

“Come here,” he said softly, and pulled his friend closer. After a few minutes he asked, “Better?”

Starsky nodded.

After a few minutes, Hutch said, “I think the soup should be hot by now. I’ll just check.”

He eased his way out of the blanket and leaned over to pull the spoon from the pan. He took a cautious sip. Satisfied, he nodded and grabbed a cloth so he could lift the pan and pour the contents into the mugs he had laid out ready. He handed one mug to Starsky, who took it gratefully.

“Hopefully, that will help warm you up,” Hutch said, then added with a teasing look, “If you’re good little boy and drink it all up, you can have one of those awful caramel bars afterwards.”

Starsky said something rude but grinned at his partner before happily sipping at his soup. Hutch settled back to drink his own meal. When they’d both finished, he handed Starsky the promised bar and produced an apple for himself. Starsky muttered something about ‘the boredom of healthy eating’ as he munched his way through his chocolate, peanut butter and caramel bar of deliciousness. Hutch was relieved to see Starsky finally seemed to have stopped shivering.

“You feeling warmer now?”

“Yeah, much…Wonder where Hatton’s got to? Think he’ll get far?”

“Guess it depends on how smart he is.”

“And if he was ever a sea scout and knows how to make a fire,” Starsky added.

Hutch smiled; pleased that his partner was feeling warmer and well enough to be teasing him. For a little while they both stared into the fire quietly, watching as the flames licked around each piece of wood.

Still watching the dancing flames, Starsky suddenly blurted out, “Hutch, I think there might be something wrong with me.”

“I hate to break it to you, pal, but there’s quite a bit wrong with you. A dislocated shoulder, plus all the cuts and bruises, isn’t exactly you at your physical peak!”

“No, I mean, before that happened, before this trip…I think there might be something wrong with me…up top…in my head.”

Hutch held back the urge to make a joke and instead asked, “What do you mean?”

Starsky shifted position slightly; forgetting for a moment that moving wasn’t a good idea. He hissed in pain. Hutch found himself wincing in sympathy.

When Starsky had recovered a little, he tried to explain, “Keep thinking about my Pop. Can’t seem to stop thinking about him. Ever since Frank mentioned how his father is going to be seventy-five this weekend and how all his family are long-lived.”

Frank was a detective in the Robbery Squad that they both knew and liked. Hutch vaguely remembered the conversation they’d had with him earlier in the week. It had been during one of their rare visits to the cafeteria to actually sit and eat lunch without having to rush off somewhere.

Hutch felt and looked confused.

“Erm…I understand thinking about your Pop not being around anymore but…why is the long-lived part bothering you? I mean your father might have lived a long time. It’s just his life was cut short. That makes things a little different.”

“Yeah, I know that but for some reason I don’t feel that.” Starsky sighed. “I keep thinking…What if my number’s up? My Pop had a wife and two kids to leave behind. What would I leave behind if I died tomorrow?…Not that I would want to leave a wife and two kids to struggle on without me. I mean that would be horrible, wouldn’t it? Then I think maybe it’s better I don’t have any dependents in case of that scenario. But then I start thinking again…that I don’t want this to be all…” his voice trailed off. “I just keep thinking about it is all.”

Hutch nodded. “I thought you seemed a bit distracted lately. I was going to ask you what was on your mind when we got home.”

Starsky turned uncertain eyes towards his partner. “I can’t stop the random thoughts, Hutch. They go round and round in circles. I think I’m going mad…What do you think?”

Hutch took a long, slow breath and gathered his thoughts. “Well, I think…I mean, I don’t know but I just wonder if the circular thoughts are really about your Pop at all.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s not been that long since Terry passed…You’re still grieving – we both are – and it seems to me, it might have more to do with losing her than anything else.”

“I guess. Maybe. But why would I keep thinking about Pop then?”

“Well, I don’t know, but maybe your thoughts about your Pop are tangled up with your thoughts about losing Terry. Losing him was your first experience of that kind of grief. Being the one left behind…well, maybe for the first time you can identify with how your mom must have felt so that’s muddled in there as well. Plus I know you had dreams of having a family with Terry. Now that’s been lost too.”

Starsky looked thoughtful.

“There’s a lot going on in that mind of yours right now.” Hutch sighed. “Grief’s more complicated than I ever realised…You know what I mean.”

Starsky nodded.

“And I’m remembering now that you said to me back in March that on your next birthday you’re going to be older than your Pop ever made. Maybe that’s muddled up in there too.”

“Maybe. I guess all of that makes sense. But…” Starsky’s voice trailed off uncertainly and he looked away for a moment.

“But?” Hutch prompted. Now he’d got Starsky talking, he wasn’t going to let him clam up again.

Starsky glanced at him, looking anxious. “Well, it’s not a good sign is it to have thoughts going round your head that you can’t stop. I mean…do you think I’m losing it?…Hutch, I’m being serious.”

A small smile had crossed Hutch’s face. He was quick to hide it and reassure his partner, “Yeah, I know you’re being serious, pal. It’s just a relief actually to hear you say that you’ve got these thoughts going round and round.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, because the same thing happened to me after…” Hutch swallowed. He still found it hard to say her name.

“After Gillian?”

Hutch nodded.

“Oh. I see.” Starsky‘s brow wrinkled in thought. “How long did it take for the random thoughts to go away? How did you make them stop?”

“Well, talking to you when I was having a rough day helped. Even if I didn’t tell you about the thoughts running circles around my brain, it helped just offloading how I was feeling.”

“Well, I’m glad me listening helped.”

“It really did. Hopefully, now you’ve told me what’s been on your mind, you might be able to let those thoughts go…If not, maybe you could find someone professional to talk to. Someone who knows more about grief than me.”

Starsky gave his friend a wry smile. “I don’t think anyone knows more about grief than we do!”

Hutch gave a little snort. “Yeah, that’s true, unfortunately…but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Starsky returned to staring at the fire. After a moment or two, he said softly, “Thanks pal.”

“You’re welcome…even though I’m not sure I’ve done anything much,” Hutch said with a shrug.

Starsky looked at him and held his gaze for a moment before saying. “I’m grateful you’re my friend. Knowing that you’re always there and that you’re always ready to listen…Well, that’s all I need most of the time. And knowing you’re there, that’s plenty.”

“Same here.”

They both returned to gazing at the fire.

After a few minutes, Hutch asked, “Are you warm enough to try and sleep now, Starsk?”

“Yeah, I guess, ‘though I don’t know how much I’ll get. I can’t lie down with this shoulder. It’ll be too painful.”

Hutch placed a few branches on the fire to keep it going for a good long while and then slid in back beside his partner.

“I know you can’t lie down but you can lean against me. Go on, try to get some sleep, pal. You’ll need it for tomorrow. We might have to hike the rest of the way to the highway to have any chance of being rescued.”

“What about you, Blintz? You need sleep too.”

“I’ll get some. I’ll just take first watch.”

“Okay…but wake me in a couple of hours,” Starsky reluctantly agreed.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll do that.”

Starsky shifted restlessly and peered into the darkness. “Do you think anybody will be looking for us yet? What ETA did you give Dobey?”

“I told him we’d make Phoenix by eleven,” Hutch said. He gently turned Starsky’s left wrist so he could look at the illuminated dial on his watch. “In about an hour I reckon Dobey will start worrying. Another hour after that, he’ll start getting the local services mobilised looking for us.”

“Ya reckon? What if what those goons said about the local sheriff prove to be true? He might hinder a rescue.”

“Dobey can be very persuasive.”

“That’s true. But won’t they be looking along the road to Aguila? How’s anyone going to know we’ve turned south already?”

“Don’t worry, partner. They’ll work out which road we had to take and find us tomorrow morning…early afternoon at the latest. Then there’ll be a trip to the nearest hospital to get you checked out, I guess, then some food.”

“Hospital food,” Starsky said bleakly.

“I’ll wheel you down to the cafeteria,” Hutch suggested. “Then we’ll be on our way home after a good night’s sleep.”

“Hope you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. When am I ever wrong?”

Starsky rolled his eyes and tried to get comfortable, without much success.

“You can lean on me more if that helps.”

“Nah, ‘s’all right. Don’t want to make you uncomfortable too.”

Starsky closed his eyes and tried to relax.

“Move forward a foot,” Hutch suggested.

Starsky opened his eyes. “What? Why?”

“Just do it.”

Looking mystified Starsky carefully wriggled forward and found Hutch settling in behind him.

“Lean back, partner. You can use me as a pillow.”

“No! I can’t do that. Sitting like this will be too uncomfortable for you,” Starsky protested. “Anybody’s dead weight is uncomfortable after a while.”

“It’s only for a couple of hours and you need to be comfortable to get some sleep. Try to relax, partner. I can feel how tense you are. You don’t need to worry about coyotes or vultures. We got a nice big fire going and we’re safe. Now, settle down and get some sleep.”

Starsky’s brain wanted to protest some more but his body couldn’t deny that he was at last feeling warm all over. It was cosy being safely wrapped up in the blanket and Hutch’s arms and Starsky’s body began to relax at last. He closed his eyes and began to drift.

“All right, just for a couple of hours, pal…You wake me…wake me…okay?”

“Sure…Go to sleep.”

Within a couple of minutes, Starsky’s breathing evened out and Hutch knew his friend was sleeping. He hoped Starsky would be able to get several hours of proper rest. His injured partner needed sleep more than he did. It wasn’t the first time Hutch had managed without sleep and it probably wouldn’t be the last. He would try his best to stay awake all night if he could to give Starsky the chance to rest and heal just a little. Then, in the morning, he would do his best to guide them the rest of the way to the I10 and get his partner to hospital, word to Dobey and an alert put out on Hatton.

 

Chapter Five

Dobey sat upright with a start, confused as to where he was and what time it was. He realised with consternation that it was almost midnight. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tense muscles. It felt like his neck had a kink in it now from his unintentional doze. He realised that he must have drifted off just before eleven and there had been no phone call to wake him up. No telephone ringing with Starsky or Hutchinson on the other end of the line saying that they had safely arrived. Trying not to panic, he first checked with Dispatch to make certain that no messages had come in from either detective but there had been none.

Hesitating for only a second, he put out an APB for both detectives and asked for it to be shared with Arizona Law Enforcement. He also asked to be notified of any incidents that had been reported to AZ officials that included vehicular accidents or instances of gunfire along the I10. Then he called Detective Services and asked for some maps of the I10, Route 60 and Route 65 to be brought to his office as soon as humanly possible. Next, he rang Chief Ryan at home. Despite the lateness of the hour, Ryan became all business and said that he would join Dobey shortly.

As Chief Ryan hurriedly dressed and made his way into the Metro Building, he couldn’t help reflecting that he had gained a grudging respect for both of the young detectives who were now presumed missing. He sincerely hoped that they were both all right. His respect had grown ever since his run in with them in the April of that year. Once the allegations of wrongdoing against them had been uncovered as a subversive plot by the then DA Sharon Freeman, he’d realised that all the other complaints about their unorthodox methods and attitudes were a whole heap of nothing. They had the ability to get the job done in a way that was hardly matched by anyone else in the department. Inevitably, that meant some people got rubbed up the wrong way. But what did that matter when they produced such excellent results. Someone had sprinkled those two with some sort of magic formula. It was a shame that there wasn’t more of it to spread around.

Although they could do with dressing a little more formally, in his opinion.

While he waited in his office, Dobey wondered what else he could do to track down his missing detectives. He put in another call to Agent Gower’s Office but there was no reply. Slamming the phone down, he waited impatiently for the knock at the door that came only moments later. Officer Jordan from Detective Services came in carrying several large maps. Dobey hopped up.

“Let’s spread them out in the squad room,” Dobey suggested . “There’s more room in there.”

Jordan helped the captain to spread the maps out across the desks. Word had already spread around the building that Starsky and Hutch hadn’t checked in and Dobey was worried about them. Jordan was a friendly, kind man with a soft spot for both detectives. He offered to stay and help Dobey and asked what they should be looking for.

“Any and all possible routes that the two of them could have taken between Ehrenburg and Phoenix.”

While they were still poring over the maps, Matlock and Grady (two detectives who were just calling in to drop off a report before heading home) came into the squad room. They were surprised to see Dobey there at that hour and immediately asked what was going on. Once Dobey had filled them in on his concerns, they too began poring over the maps and plotting possible routes. Chief Ryan arrived just as the phone in Dobey’s office started ringing.

The captain hurried to answer it and listened with a frown to Agent Gower as he apologised for his absence (‘something unexpected and important had come up’) and informed him that Starsky and Hutch had not arrived in Phoenix with Woodfield and Hatton. He added that the last time they had been seen by Federal Agents was as they passed through Quartzsite. He didn’t have much more information but he was at least able to tell Dobey that there had been a report made of men in two cars firing at each other at a junkyard outside Aguila and that some men were now in custody. As of yet, no-one knew who they were as they weren’t talking, except for asking for lawyers and refusing to say another word until they arrived. Agent Gower promised that his men were headed towards Aguila to interview the Sheriff there and the men in custody. He advised Dobey that his men would also start searching for the two detectives and the two prisoners.

Dobey came back into the squad room and filled everyone in on his conversation.

“So they could be anywhere between Aguila and Phoenix, in trouble, in hiding, possibly hurt,” Dobey concluded, looking hard at the map again. “I think we’re going to need more help.” He looked at Ryan. “Sir, I’d like to start ringing a few off-duty officers to come in and help with a search.”

Ryan thought for a moment, before saying, “We have to be careful not to interfere with any investigation being run by Arizona or our Federal friends but as long as the men understand that this is voluntary, purely a search and rescue op, and that they have no jurisdiction to do anything else, I see no reason why not.”

Dobey nodded gratefully, “Thank you, sir.”

Jordan spoke up, “I’ll get that list of off duty officers for you, Captain Dobey, and come right back.” He hurried out of the room.

Grady picked up his phone. “I’ll ring my wife and tell her not to expect me back tonight. Matlock and I can hit the road right now if you want us to. It’s going to take hours to get anywhere near Aguila. If they’re out there all night, they could be in pretty poor shape by the morning. The sooner we get started, the better.”

Dobey nodded. “Thank you, Grady. That would be appreciated.”

While Grady spoke to his wife, Dobey looked over the map with Matlock.

“The Feds are concentrating on the area around Aguila and Route 60. I think perhaps we should send our people straight along the I10 towards Phoenix and then they can work their way up Route 60 from there. Come at the problem from the other side so to speak.”

Grady came and joined Matlock as he stared at the map. Jordan returned to the squad room a moment later and handed Dobey a list of names and numbers.

As Dobey was looking through the list, Grady asked, “Does anyone know the area at all? What’s this road? The one leading from Aguila through the Harquahala Mountains? Do you think they would take a route like that if they were in trouble? Maybe try to get back down to the I10 that way?”

Everyone stared at the map. Dobey nodded slowly. “I think if I thought there might be more trouble on the main routes, I might go that way. It doesn’t look much more than a pass over the mountains though…I kind of hope they haven’t gone that way.”

Matlock nodded but said, “Maybe Grady and me should check it out. We’ll go straight down the I10 and get onto the road near Buckeye. Then at least we can cross it off our search grid. You can send other officers straight to Phoenix and north to Route 60.”

Grady nodded, fully in agreement with his partner.

“All right,” Dobey agreed. “Thank you, men.”

Dobey described the car that Starsky and Hutch had been driving and gave Matlock and Grady the licence plate number. Then the two detectives hurried out of the squad room to begin their journey to Arizona. It was nearly one in the morning. If they drove at a reasonable pace, they could be heading up the mountain pass road just after dawn. Dobey hoped they would get lucky and find the missing detectives before they had to spend a day in the mountains. He just hoped they had managed to find somewhere warm to spend the night. He wouldn’t even think that he hoped they were alive and uninjured – that would open the door to the opposite possibility. The thought that something might have happened to either of them was too awful to contemplate.

Chief Ryan broke into Dobey’s thoughts: “Let’s take a few names each and then we can get people in here faster.”

Jordan nodded and eagerly took down three names on his pad.

Dobey nodded gratefully as the two men beside him began placing calls. It was times like these that his department came into its own. His people knew how to take care of each other.

*****

“Starsky was right,” Hutch thought. “Someone’s dead weight leaning up against you gets very uncomfortable after a while!”

The first hour had been fine. The second was only slightly uncomfortable. Entering the third hour, Hutch realised that his right leg was starting to go to sleep and he needed to move. His throat was also starting to bother him and his chest ached. He wanted to take some aspirin to ease the discomfort but he couldn’t reach them. Feeling very reluctant, Hutch was nevertheless forced to gently shake his partner awake and ask him to move so he could get up and move around.

“Sorry to have to wake you.”

“’S okay.”

Sleepily, Starsky wriggled forwards and then backwards until he was once again leaning up against the cottonwood tree. Through heavy eyes, he watched as Hutch stretched and then rummaged in a bag for something and then picked up a bottle of water. He saw Hutch put something in his mouth and then swig the liquid. He coughed slightly as he tried to swallow.

“Hey! Are you feeling all right?” Starsky wanted to know.

Hutch nodded and busied himself with stirring the fire and adding more fuel. When he was satisfied, he sat back down next to his partner, who pushed part of the thermal blanket towards him. Hutch scooted back under, grateful for the warmth. The night was very cool now.

Quietly Starsky asked, “Something hurting? Why are you taking pills?”

Hutch cleared his throat with a slight wince. When he spoke his voice was a bit croaky. “My throat’s a bit sore.”

“Let me see. Where’s the flashlight?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“Where’s the flashlight?”

Hutch sighed and reached for the backpack containing their emergency items. He located the flashlight and passed it to his impatient partner. Then he pulled his collar aside so Starsky could inspect his throat.

“Hmm. Tricky to tell how bad it is by flashlight but it does look pretty bruised. You can bet I’ll be having words with Hatton when we catch him.”

Hutch breathed a chuckle at Starsky’s comment then added, “Thanks.”

“Anything else hurting?”

Reluctantly, Hutch admitted his chest was aching. He undid a few more buttons on his shirt and they could both see a slanted, red mark.

“Ouch,” Starsky said in sympathy. “Think you’re going to have a bit of a bruise there tomorrow but at least the belt did its job. We were both lucky really; it could have been much worse.”

Hutch nodded as he did his buttons back up. He stifled a yawn but Starsky spotted it.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, Blintz? I can keep watch for a while.”

Hutch hesitated, but then the sense of weariness won out. “If you’re sure? I wouldn’t mind an hour. Hour and a half maximum.” He checked Starsky’s watch before adding, “Wake me by three.”

Starsky nodded. Hutch rummaged in his duffle bag and pulled out a sweater, which he rolled up into a ball so he could use it as a pillow. He went to lie down on the ground but was stopped by Starsky.

“Hey, take the other blanket. I’m plenty warm enough.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Starsky wriggled so that Hutch could slide the second blanket out from underneath his legs.

“Thanks.”

Hutch settled down on the ground. He wriggled every so often for a few minutes, but eventually his body stilled and Starsky knew his partner had fallen asleep. He was relieved: Hutch had been on the go since six this morning. Whatever he said to the contrary, he needed some sleep.

Starsky stared into the fire, watching the little sparks that rose from the fire and then floated down again as ash. It was a still night so the tiny glowing dots didn’t travel too far.

Starsky found his mind wandering and recalling a fourth of July celebration at the house of a family friend when he’d been about six. He’d eaten hot dogs and ice cream and watched fascinated as the fireworks burst with all their shining colours across the night sky. Then he’d ridden on Pop’s shoulders on the short walk home.

Pop. Starsky sighed. He wondered what his father would be doing if he was alive now. He’d be coming up for retirement. No, he’d have retired last year. “Wonder if he’d be glad I followed in his footsteps? Wonder if he’d be proud of me?”

Suddenly, Starsky had the sensation he was being watched. He raised his eyes slowly and saw two unusually large, white eyes glowing across the other side of the fire and staring at him. Coyote. Starsky held his breath, paralysed for a moment. Very slowly, he stretched his fingers over his gun until it was safe in his palm but made no other movements. The coyote inched its way forward, head lowered, almost as if it was seeking permission. Starsky watched, uncertain what to do. The coyote paused and blinked. Then it crept closer to the fire and paused again, looking at Starsky with its head on one side.

“Cold, huh?” Starsky asked softly.

The coyote moved its head to the other side.

“I don’t mind. Don’t bother me. I won’t bother you,” Starsky found himself saying.

The coyote stretched out its long legs in front of it before settling into a comfortable position and finally resting its head on its front legs. Starsky could see its beautiful grey, white and black markings intermingled with its pale brown coat. He was surprised by his own reaction to the animal. Instead of being afraid, he felt privileged to be this close to it. That didn’t stop him from keeping his gun handy though, just in case.

Starsky thought about waking Hutch, but didn’t. The likelihood was the coyote would split as soon as he made any movement and then he would have woken his exhausted partner for nothing. He just hoped that Hutch would wake up before the coyote left and that he would get to see it too. What a kick; seeing a coyote out in the wild! It almost made spending the night out here worth the pain and hassle. Almost.

*****

Dawn was just breaking when Starsky sensed Hutch stirring. He leaned over carefully and placed a gently warning hand on his partner’s shoulder. Hutch opened his eyes but didn’t make any sudden movements, aware that Starsky wanted him to be still for some reason. He looked around and, in the dim light, spotted movement on the other side of the fire. He realised it was a coyote stretching out its legs before it turned around and ambled away, gradually picking up speed as it got further from their campsite. Hutch sat up.

“Hey! A coyote!”

“Yep.” Starsky eyed his partner, wondering if his throat was okay. His voice had sounded a little raspy when he’d spoken.

Hutch turned round to look at his partner, asking, “How long was it here?”

“It arrived pretty much after you fell asleep. How’s your throat? You sound a bit croaky there, pal.”

Hutch swallowed, wincing ever so slightly. “It is a bit sore,” he admitted, “But not too bad. I’ll live…How come you didn’t chase the coyote off? Thought you were scared of them!”

“He just wanted to warm up by the fire and I didn’t blame him. It gets cold out here at night. Anyway, we made a pact. I told him if he didn’t bother me, I wouldn’t bother him.”

Hutch raised an eyebrow at this statement then frowned. “What’s the time anyway? You were supposed to wake me around three.”

Starsky half shrugged with his good shoulder. “Thought you needed the sleep. Besides you’ve only had a couple of extra hours. It’s just after five and dawn’s just around the corner.”

Hutch stretched out and stood up. “We’d better have some breakfast and then get going. It would be better to travel before it gets too hot. If you’re up to it.”

“Good to go,” Starsky asserted. “Or I will be after a coffee…You have got coffee in that miracle supply box of yours, haven’t you?”

Hutch rolled his eyes at his partner before setting about getting the fire going.

“The real question is: can we spare the water?” Hutch observed. He checked the bottles and flasks they had with them.

“So can we?” Starsky prompted.

“Well, if we didn’t know we were pretty close to civilisation, I’d say no, but I guess we’ve got enough water to last us for a morning’s walk.”

He poured some water into a pan and set onto the tripod. Then he rummaged in his box and pulled out a coffee pot.

Starsky grinned and said, “You’re too good to me, partner.”

“Yeah, I am and don’t you forget it!” Hutch responded. “So breakfast. I’ve got some canned fruit, if you’re interested.”

Starsky grimaced.

“Granola bars?” Hutch offered.

Starsky stuck his tongue out. “Yuk!”

Hutch sighed. “There’s two of those awful peanut butter and caramel thingies left.”

“Pass ‘em over.”

Hutch shook his head as he passed the two Pillsbury bars over. “You’re hopeless. A little fruit now and then wouldn’t kill you.”

“It might. I was reading just the other day how someone nearly died choking on a grape!” Starsky informed his partner.

Hutch just stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and opened up a can of mixed fruit. He stuck a spoon in the can and set it to one side. Then he made coffee for both of them with the now hot water. He spooned in some sugar for Starsky and handed him his mug.

“Thanks.”

The two of them ate in silence, only chatting once they had finished and were sipping their coffees.

“I think we’d better decide what we really need to carry with us and then leave everything else with the car. We can come back for our belongings later on, once we’ve found civilisation and can get someone to drive out here.”

“What about Woodfield?” Starsky asked.

“What about him?”

“Well…Do ya think we should cover the body somehow? ’Else won’t the coyotes or vultures interfere with it?”

“Hmm. I guess I could cover it with one of the thermal blankets and edge it with a few rocks to make it less attractive to wild animals…Don’t want to spend too long on it though. We need to make for the I10.”

“How far away do you reckon we are?”

“Not sure. I think if we keep the mountain road on our right and walk parallel to it. When it flattens out, we can get onto the road and follow it the rest of the way. We should make the I10 junction in two or three hours.”

“Okay. Help me up.”

Between them, they packed up what they thought they should keep with them into a backpack which Hutch put on his back. Then Starsky carried one duffle bag and Hutch carried the other and the box of camping gear back towards the car. They deposited the items they couldn’t take with them next to the broken vehicle. Starsky asked Hutch to rescue his jacket from the car and swapped it for the blanket he still had wrapped around him. He didn’t want to leave his jacket behind. It was his favourite one and who knew what might happen to it if he did?

Hutch walked up the slope and covered Woodfield’s body with the blanket and moved a few rocks and small boulders around it to make a circle around the body. When he was satisfied, the two of them set off in the direction of the I10 and Buckeye.

*****

They had been going around an hour when the road above them began to descend and then eventually level out until it was on a horizontal line with them. Starsky was quite tired from travelling across the uneven terrain and trying not to jar his injured shoulder. The two of them stopped for a drink and then made their way across to join the road, which wasn’t much better to walk on than the terrain they had been traversing. It was pitted with holes and covered with loose scree. Both of them slipped a few times and muttered with exasperation.

The terrain around the road became more mixed: half foothills, half desert. The cottonwood trees gave way to the occasional cactus. Starsky pointed at a Saguaro; its tall arms reaching up into the blue sky.

“That Saguaro must be an old one being that tall.”

“If we do run out of water, we can open one of those up and get some liquid from it,” Hutch suggested.

Starsky shook his head. “Nah, only if you want to get an upset stomach, partner! The liquid inside is too acidic for humans. The fruit’s edible though. Supposed to be really sweet and good for you. One day I’d like to try some.”

“Didn’t notice any fruit on that one,” Hutch said.

“Well, they need to be really ripe to be edible. It’s too early in the year.”

“So we need to come back in August and try one?”

Starsky grimaced. “On second thoughts, I don’t think I’m that worried about trying one!”

Hutch chuckled. “Tell you what, if we go camping in the Joshua Tree National Park this summer, we can see if anyone’s selling the fruit locally.”

Starsky looked less than convinced. “Hasn’t our little trip put you off camping?”

“Nope.”

Starsky sighed. “Well, we’ll see.”

Almost another hour passed when they saw the beginnings of a cloud of dust and realised that there was a vehicle travelling towards them. There wasn’t any real cover but they stopped close to another cactus, just in case they needed cover. Hutch pulled his gun from his holster and stood ready. Starsky put his hand behind his back and pulled his weapon from where he’d safely stored it in the waistband of his pants.

Just then the radios in their bags crackled and screeched making them both jump.

“Zebra Three, come in, please.”

Hutch dropped his bag and quickly searched for the radio.

“Zebra Three here. Who’s this? Over.”

“It’s Zebra Twelve. Boy, are we glad to see you guys! Over.”

As the car drew closer, they both saw that someone was waving at them and they realised that they recognised the vehicle from the parking lot at the station. As it got level with them, they could see faces they recognised within. They vehicle came to a stop and the engine was turned off. Grady and Matlock hopped out, grinning widely.

“Are we glad to see you guys,” Grady declared. “You had us all worried! Dobey’s been pretty frantic, we can tell you.”

“We didn’t expect to see anyone from Bay City out here,” Hutch said, as he and Starsky out their weapons away.

“Well there are lots of teams out looking for you. Half the off duty cops in the Metro building decided to help. There are teams on all the roads between Bay City and Phoenix, and all points between, trying to locate you.”

Hutch shared a look of surprised gratitude with Starsky; they were both humbled that their colleagues, and even people they didn’t know all that well, should have turned out to look for them.

“We’d better get back to where we can relay a message and let Dobey and Chief Ryan know that we’ve found you so they can call off the search.”

“And stop Dobey worrying,” Matlock added. He noted the sling Starsky was sporting. “Then we’ll get you to the nearest hospital.”

“What happened to you?” Grady asked. “Where are the prisoners you were transporting?”

“Woodfield’s dead,” Hutch informed them. “The other one, Hatton, escaped. They attacked us and the car went off the road.”

“That was after we turned off to get away from the guys that were shooting at us,” Starsky continued.

“Maybe we should take you up the road and show you where the car went over so you can help local authorities locate it later,” Hutch said.

“And maybe we could collect our stuff,” Starsky suggested.

“I think your stuff can wait. Let’s get you to hospital, Starsky,” Grady suggested. “And you can tell us all the details of what happened on the way.”

Starsky looked at Hutch, who nodded in agreement, “They’re right, partner. We need to get you checked out.”

“You too…Hatton strangled him,” Starsky informed the other detectives. “Hutch needs to get his neck checked. And his chest in case the seatbelt did more damage than just surface bruising.”

“Sounds like you both need checking over,” Matlock said. “Climb in and we’ll get on our way. I might have to reverse a little but, luckily, I spotted a turning place a few hundred yards back.”

“Must be the only one on this road!” Starsky snorted. “We certainly didn’t see any when we were driving up it.”

The two of them climbed in the back of Matlock’s car, relieved to be out of the sunshine, which was steadily making its presence known, and on their way to safety. As the vehicle joined the I10, Grady relayed a message through the local channels back to Bay City and their own Dispatch office to let Dobey and everyone at Metro know that the two missing detectives had been found alive and mainly unharmed. They also informed them of the death of Woodfield and that Hatton was still at large. Then, at the suggestion of the local Dispatch officer, they made their way to the Phoenix Baptist Hospital, which took about forty minutes to get to. Grady accompanied the two detectives inside while Matlock found a parking space.

The triage nurse got them to fill in their paperwork and then asked them to wait. Much to his chagrin, Hutch was taken through to be checked over before his partner; strangulation was deemed to be more injurious than a no-longer-dislocated shoulder. Starsky, on the other hand, was relieved to know his partner was being looked after. He wanted to go with Hutch but the staff wouldn’t let him. When a doctor came through and called Starsky’s name, Matlock and Grady said they would ring Dobey and let him know that they were now both getting treatment.

*****

A few hours later, Starsky was getting increasingly irritated and frustrated because he couldn’t find anyone to tell him how his partner was doing. He was just thinking of trying to sneak out of the room he’d been put in when the door opened and familiar figure came into view.

“Cap! What are you doing here?”

“Checking that my two officers are being treated properly.”

“How’d you get here so quickly?”

“Chief Ryan gave me permission to fly to Phoenix. I’ll be taking you back with me by plane as the car you were given is a write-off.”

Starsky nodded happily. He liked flying almost as much as driving.

“How’s the shoulder, Starsky?”

“Not too bad. They’ve given me some great painkillers and a new sling. Do you know how Hutch is doing? I was just about to get out of here and go look for him.”

“He’s doing fine, son. He’s being looked after up on the Ear, Nose and Throat Department. They want to keep him in overnight for observation. And before you ask I told them that the two of you would heal quicker if you were in the same room and that they wouldn’t get a moment’s peace if you weren’t so they will be bringing him down here very soon. As soon as they are happy with their latest checks.”

Starsky leaned back against his pillows with a relieved sigh. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Dobey pulled a chair over to the bedside and sat down wearily. He drew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. “Edith sends her best wishes to you. She was relieved to hear that you are both okay. She didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.”

Starsky seemed to realise that was code for ‘I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night either worrying about you.’

“Sorry to worry you, Cap. This one got a little rough. Clearly someone did know that Woodfield was being moved. The idiot had arranged for a prisoner he used as protection to go with him. That was probably what let the cat out of the bag. For a smart guy he sure was stupid.”

Dobey nodded. “And now he’s dead.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I was sorry about that.”

“Don’t blame you, Cap. The world’s a better place without him,” Starsky said philosophically.

“Well, Agent Gower is looking into Woodfield’s lawyer and also investigating whether the Warden was bribed or just stupid. I’m sure we’ll have answers about that soon.”

Just then the door opened and a wheelchair containing Hutch was pushed into the room. Both partners grinned with relief when they saw each other.

“You okay?” they both asked at the same time.

“Yeah, shoulder’s fine. It’ll be tender for a while but no permanent damage. We did a good job between us of looking after it.”

The orderly insisted on helping Hutch out of the wheelchair, much to his disgust. Once he was settled in the empty bed on the other side of the room, Starsky asked, “How about your neck and chest?”

“My chest’s fine. Just a surface abrasion – nothing to worry about. My neck’s okay too, really,” Hutch said. Seeing Starsky’s disbelieving eyebrows, he admitted, “Well, there is a little internal swelling so they want to keep me in overnight. But it’s feeling a lot better so I don’t think it will get any worse now.” Hutch turned to look at Dobey. “Good to see you, Captain, but we’re sorry you got dragged all the way out here to see us.”

“I always visit my men in the hospital,” Dobey said with a shrug, “wherever that hospital might be.”

“Well, we appreciate it,” Hutch said. “Hey, any word on the recovery of the car and our belongings?

Dobey nodded. “The local sheriff’s department are organising the recovery of Woodfield’s body and the car. Matlock and Grady kindly said they would go and retrieve your belongings and take everything except your personal items back by car. They’ll bring your bags here before they set off for home.”

“How are we going to get home?” Hutch wondered.

“I just told Starsky that Chief Ryan has agreed that I can take you back by plane,” Dobey informed him.

“That’s a relief,” Hutch said. “Think we’ve had enough of driving for a few days.”

“Any news on Hatton?” Starsky asked.

Dobey shook his head. “He could have got miles away by now. The Feds are looking and all Law Enforcement agencies have an APB out ion him. I’m sure he’ll turn up somewhere.”

Starsky clicked his fingers. “Tell Gower to look in Ohio. A place called…oh, it was girl’s name. What was it, Hutch?”

“Er…Amanda?”

“Yeah, that’s it! Hatton said he was born there and he wanted to go back there one day. Tell ‘em to look there.”

Dobey heaved himself out of the chair and said, “I’ll go ring Gower now and then I’ll be back. Can I bring you back anything? A drink or food?”

“A coke would be good,” Starsky said.

“A tea would be nice if it’s no trouble,” Hutch added.

Dobey nodded and headed out of the room.

There was a knock at the door and a lady came in pushing a cart carrying covered plates of food. She placed a plate, cutlery, glass of water and a pot of jello on each hospital table.

After she’d gone, the two of them picked up their jello pots and, without a word of discussion, tossed them to each other to swap flavours. They both lifted the covers over their food at the same time.

Starsky sniffed the air suspiciously and said, “Smells okay.”

“Hmm, doesn’t look too bad either. Better eat it while it’s still hot.”

They both cautiously stuck a fork into the stew and took a small bite. They looked at each other with relief.

“Not too bad for hospital food,” Hutch stated.

“Yeah. I think we should only get hospitalised in Phoenix from now on.”

Hutch rolled his eyes and then they both chuckled before digging into their meal in earnest.

 

Epilogue

A few days later, Starsky and Hutch were back at their desks finishing up a report from that day’s investigation when Sergeant Bigalow appeared in the squad room.

“Oh look, Hutch! Bigalow was so worried about us; he’s come to see how we are.”

“Well, that’s very nice of you, Bigalow,” Hutch agreed.

“Hmm.” Bigalow looked at the pile of papers in his hand. “Actually, I’m here to see where your 37958A and 56382Ds have got to.”

“Bet he says that to all the girls,” Starsky quipped.

“Look, Detective Starsky. It’s all right for you. You just use the equipment without a thought for the supply staff that have to keep track of it all and wherever possible see to its safe return. I have to answer to Lieutenant Harris and he is a stickler. So where are the 37958A and 56382Ds?”

“I thought Grady and Matlock brought back everything with them and gave it to you?” Hutch said.

“Most of it, yes. But not the 37958A and 56382Ds.”

“Well, if you tell us what a 37958A and a….” Hutch tried to remember the second number but couldn’t.

“56 something something D,” interjected Starsky trying to help.

Hutch carried on, “Tell us what they are in plain English then maybe we can help.”

Looking as if he was dealing with pre-schoolers, Bigalow explained very slowly, “37958A is a box of shotgun ammunition and 56382Ds are the two flares you asked for.”

“We’ve no idea what happened to the flares! Maybe they got thrown out when the car rolled down the side of a mountain!” Hutch said with exasperation.

“We were in an accident you know,” Starsky added.

“Hmm. And the box of shotgun ammunition?”

“Most of it was used defending our lives!”

“And the rest is probably in a vulture’s nest,” Starsky continued. “Do they like shiny things? Or is that only magpies?”

“Only magpies, I think, partner.”

Bigalow cut across their conversation. “So you’re saying that you will not be returning the remains of the 37958A or the two 56382Ds.”

“Correct. We will not be returning them,” Hutch said, “because we don’t know where they are.”

Bigalow rifled through his papers and produced a green form. In that case, please would one of you fill in this 68R56Fslash986?”

“What’s that for?”

“It’s a declaration stating that these items were lost in the line of duty and cannot be returned.”

“Sheesh. You’ll be wanting to give them a funeral next,” Starsky said as he grabbed the form out of Bigalow’s hand.

Hutch passed him a pen and Starsky scribbled his name on the bottom of the form.

“There ya go. You can fill in the codes.” Starsky thrust the form back at Bigalow. “It’s been a pleasure as always Biggy. Until our next assignment…”

Bigalow rolled his eyes and headed for the door, turning back to say, “Next time, drive more carefully and try not to lose your equipment-”

“-In the desert,” Starsky and Hutch chorused.

“Although, it was actually a mountain not a desert,” Starsky added.

“Hmm,” was the only response as Bigalow disappeared through the doors.

The two of them just looked at each other and then started chuckling, which soon developed into tears of laughter. They were still laughing when Dobey came in to collect their late reports.