106
A drabble for Hutchinson for Murder One.
“Tell me what happened.” Starsky poured more brandy into Hutch’s cup.
“You can see!” Hutch swept his hand in a circle, taking in the covered body, the signs of a struggle.
“Did you have sex with her last night?” Starsky stared at his friend, quite sure that Hutch had nothing to do with her death, but needing the facts. “When Nancy’s around, you can be pretty self destructive.”
“Vanessa,” he corrected, suddenly angry. He threw the cup against the wall. “This isn’t some kind of payback for the divorce!”
“Just wanted you t’start fighting back.” Starsky nodded. “Let’s call Dobey.”
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