Jealous Mind

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In a blast from the past, Kira comes back.  She’s more dangerous than ever, and Starsky and Hutch are more vulnerable than ever.

 

This was supposed to be a story in the virtual season.  I disagreed with the changes the editing team demanded, so this is the first time this story sees the light of day.  It stands alone, I edited it so it doesn’t need the virtual season story arc.

If you want to know more about Grace, please read my story “Mirror, Mirror” of the virtual season.

---

“You aren’t the least bit happy to see me, are you?”

Hutch didn’t smile. “No. I’m not.”

“Maybe your partner will feel differently.”

“I doubt it.”

“What’s wrong with you, anyway?” The pretty woman pouted and tossed her hair. “Last time I saw you, we were perfectly friendly.”

Hutch almost chortled. “I don’t remember. So much has happened since.”

“Yeah.” She looked at him, and Hutch could see the frost of speculation in her ice-blue eyes. “I heard Starsky got shot. I bet it was difficult, seeing him down, bleeding to death right before your eyes.”

The pain hit home, but Hutch somehow had known it was coming and was ready for the blow. He shrugged, “You’ve never worked with a steady partner; you wouldn’t comprehend.”

Her eyes narrowed, and that told Hutch he had scored. Strike one, he thought to himself, hoping to land another.

A seductive smile, and she lowered her lashes. “Y’know,” she murmured in a sultry voice that utterly failed to reach Hutch, “I might even be prepared to take you guys up on that offer.”

“What offer?” Hutch asked, and registered that the door behind him opened. He recognized the sound of those brisk steps, and a bright glow of affection spread warmth through him. For the first time, he realized that he had started to chill during the brief conversation.

“You guys suggested a threesome,” she said, a little impatiently, stepping nearer.

Aware that an entire squad-room full of cops was hanging on their every word, and that Starsky was now definitely close enough to hear what they said, Hutch smiled. “No, sorry. I’m with this absolutely gorgeous brunet, and we’re dead serious about each other.”

He saw Detective Sergeant Peter Ross raise his head from the file he was studying, glance at Starsky, and then give him a steady look. Hutch hoped he wasn’t blushing. Ross raised an eyebrow at him and returned to his reading, without a smile.

“You sure look blissful.” There was a noticeably sour tone to her voice.

“I am,” Hutch said. He turned to smile a welcome at Starsky.

She had already lost interest in him. “Hi there, Starsky.” A positive purr, and it grated on Hutch’s nerves so much he wanted to hiss.

Starsky frowned, and Hutch suppressed a grin. He wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t remember her, was he?

“Hi…Kira.”

Impeccable timing, Hutch thought admiringly. Just enough of a pause to make her unsure whether Starsky really had to think to come up with the name. He could tell it annoyed her, even though she was trying to keep it out of her low timbre.

“I was just saying to Hutch it might be nice if we could get together. Reminisce some, talk about the good old days, y’know.”

“No can do,” Starsky said, his voice neutral. Hutch wondered how much discipline it required to keep it that way. “I’m seeing somebody, and Hutch’s lover is the jealous type.”

Starsky touched his arm, and now Hutch could feel the tension. It might look like a light grip, but those fingers were hard as granite. “Ready to roll, partner?”

Ross looked up again, keen eyes investigating their reactions. This time, he did grin. Knowingly.

“Sure, let’s go.”

Together, they went to the door, and Hutch wasn’t surprised Starsky walked close enough for their shoulders to brush.

“‘Night, Peter, have a good one.”

“You, too, buddy.” Ross smiled brilliantly at Starsky.

If the unusual form of address or the wide smile baffled Starsky, he didn’t let on. “Say hi to the wife, pal.”

“Will do. Now, get out of here before the captain finds you another corpse.”

“I’ve seen enough rotten things for one day,” Starsky agreed, and put an arm around Hutch’s shoulder to steer him out.

“‘Night, Peter,” Hutch said, conscious of the possessive hold, and Starsky’s tightly controlled anger. They had been catching up on their paperwork all day–was Starsky referring to Kira?

They both smiled at Ross’s partner, Sharon Cooper, who grinned back tiredly. “‘Night boys. I sure envy you. It’ll be hours before we get to hit the sack.” She yawned, and reached for one of the donuts Starsky had brought in with him earlier. A lot earlier, Hutch thought, and suppressed a yawn of his own.

“Determined to make a dent in the backlog?” Starsky said.

“No,” Ross grinned. “The captain is determined to have us make that dent. I had been more determined to get an early night.”

“Tough,” Hutch said sympathetically.

“It will be, if the rest of the week turns out to be like today.” Sharon yawned again.

Minnie walked in and held the door for them. “My favorite men, and they have to leave as soon as I get here.”

Sharon laughed softly. “Quit flirting, Minnie. These guys are involved.”

“That’s the end to all my dreams,” Minnie sighed dramatically. “I hate Mondays. At least tell me you’re happy, Starsky?”

Starsky smiled at her. “Perfectly.”

“Sounds like paradise, doesn’t it,” Kira said with not-so-subtle nastiness.

“We’ve even acquired a slippery snake,” Starsky said evenly. “Later, folks.”

Minnie sniggered, “You stay away from apples now, Starsky.”

——

Starsky pulled his arm back as soon as they were out of sight of the squad-room. They walked down the hallway in silence. Not a word was spoken in the elevator. Hutch glanced at him uneasily, but Starsky’s stony face wasn’t giving any of his thoughts away. Approaching the Torino without a sound.

The lasting hush was getting to him. Had just seeing him with Kira been enough for Starsky? Hutch sighed. “Ask you something?”

Starsky unlocked the door and slipped into the car. He reached over to open the passenger door before replying, “No.”

Hutch tried to read his lover’s face in the darkness. Not easy. Starsky looked…set. “What do you mean, no?”

“I don’t want to drag that up again. What’s she doing here, anyway?”

“You mean, apart from spitting venom?” Hutch sighed again. “A gift from the commissioner. We’re supposed to whip her into shape.”

“We–as in, the squad? Or we–as in, me and thee?”

Hutch hesitated. This wasn’t going to go down easy. “Both, from what the captain says.”

Silence. Hutch chanced another look at Starsky’s face. As if he had known Hutch would look, Starsky angled his head, just slightly. It made it impossible to read his features.

“Dobey says it’s her last chance. If this doesn’t work out, she’s off the force.”

No comment from his normally eloquent partner. Not even so much as a grunt.

Hutch tried once more. “He said she made a mess of her last case.”

“She got her partner killed. There’s a stronger word for that than ‘mess’.”

“Accidents happen.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they do.”

“Starsky…” He didn’t want to ask whether this was about jealousy. He couldn’t even blame Starsky if it were. Not this time.

“I’m not jealous, Hutch,” Starsky said impatiently, apparently reading his mind. “Have you seen the report?”

“No,” Hutch replied, wearily, “There was no time. I was talking to Dobey one minute, the next she was there already. How come you read the report? You didn’t know she was going to turn up, did you?”

“No, I didn’t. I read it because I knew her partner.”

“You did?”

“Clifford McLaine. Remember I told you we bumped into each other at Merle’s sometimes and talked shop a bit? He complained about Kira a lot, and when I last saw him, he said he had asked Captain Stills to assign him another partner. He died a week after he told me that.”

Hutch swallowed bile. “What happened?”

“They had an argument at the station. Cliff said Kira wasn’t doing her job, always had her mind on other things. She said he was angry because she wouldn’t go to bed with him. Seems it got out of hand, and Stills had to step in.”

“Wait a sec. Did McLaine tell you whether he did sleep with her, or wanted to?”

Starsky grunted. “Cliff just got married in January; their first child was on the way. His wife is lovely; I’ve met her. A real pretty lady, and a sweet character besides. I don’t think he ever even wasted a thought on the bitch. Must’ve been the other way around–knowing Kira, she was pissed because he wouldn’t go near her.”

“How’s McLaine’s wife coping now? Maybe we ought to go and see her sometime?”

“Charlene is from Wisconsin. She went back there to live with her brother’s family.”

“Why didn’t you…?”

“Tell you? Like I said, I’d rather forget about Kira.”

“So, how did McLaine buy it?” Hutch saw that Starsky had gripped the wheel tighter, his knuckles showing white even in this light. He still couldn’t see his face clearly enough to gauge his expression properly.

“Stills told them to get their act together and had a quiet word with Kira. It went on record and was attached to the homicide report as background information. Internal Affairs looked into that affair, but nothing came of it. Seems to me Kira has friends in high places. Cliff wasn’t the only one who had problems with her; apparently, her file is full of complaints from fellow officers. We weren’t the first, y’know. Or the last.”

Hutch chuckled. “You never told me what you said.”

“I didn’t say much. Couldn’t, without making you and Dobey look bad. I still can’t believe all three of you missed that clue about the hair dye, thinking Madame Bouvet had written the note herself to get us moving. As if a woman like her doesn’t know how to spell dye! And with all those dead girls on Bouvet’s mind, I’m sure she knew how to spell die, too. Must’ve read it in the paper often enough.”

Starsky sighed. “Anyway, I said that I thought Kira should have caught on to the questions about her hair color sooner, especially as she knew about that slip of paper. Pulling that gun on a Vietnam veteran was lousy judgement. Not warning us about the nutty guy in the first place was plain stupid.”

“My not giving you all the information was lousy, too,” Hutch said quietly. “I’m sorry about that.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Starsky said warningly. “I don’t want to know what you thought, or what you felt, or what you did. Why you did it. So can it, will ya?”

“I don’t get you. Why won’t you…?”

“Because it still hurts, Hutch. That’s why. Now, do you want to hear the rest of what was in that report, or do you wanna go read it yourself?”

“Go ahead.”

“Stills told Kira she’d better try to get along with Cliff, because he was running out of officers willing to work with her. Seems he let it slip that Cliff was warning other people off. So after that little pep talk, Kira and Cliff went on duty at a stake-out. Bad judgement by their captain, if you ask me–sticking two cops who just had a violent fight alone in a car in the dark somewhere. Wouldn’t have happened with Dobey.”

No, Hutch thought, Dobey is a lot more on the ball than that.

“They were looking into some warehouse robberies; the robbers had shot a guard, upgrading it to a murder case. Informant told Cliff there were seven guys involved and told him where to look. They got lucky; the gang made a move that night. Cliff went to investigate, while Kira called for back-up. All but one of the perps got away, and Cliff was shot.”

Hutch thought the information over for a moment. “What else, Starsky? What has you bugged about this?”

“Couple of things. The felon claimed Cliff arrested him, and it was Cliff’s handcuffs on him–Kira still had hers tucked into her slacks when the back-up got there. Two uniforms attest to that, even though Kira’s report said she simply picked up Cliff’s cuffs because she thought she might need them.”

“That might be the truth,” Hutch commented.

“Sure, Hutch.” Starsky sounded annoyed, and Hutch realized he had better not back up what Kira said–about anything.

Starsky took a deep breath before he continued. “The crook said it was around ten when he was arrested–the gang was to meet at a quarter to the hour.  According to him, Cliff was on them almost immediately. My guess is he’s telling the truth, because the rest of the gang managed to split with the goods. If they had started to dispense, some of the stuff would’ve been found at the scene.”

Hutch nodded; he could follow that.

“Thing is, the request for back-up was logged in at twenty minutes past the hour. So, why was Kira dawdling on calling for back-up, when her partner was facing a group of seven–most likely armed, most certainly dangerous–criminals, alone?”

Hutch hesitated. Now, how to phrase that one?

“Go on, Hutch, say it already. The crook doesn’t know how to read his watch. Or maybe he arrived late for the handout? Or they made a mistake at the precinct about logging the request? Happens all the time, just like accidents. Somebody tells me accidents happen.”

“None of that is very likely,” Hutch conceded, “but it is possible.”

“Anything is possible,” Starsky bristled. “After surviving Gunther, I know it is. You tell me how likely it is, though?”

Somehow, Hutch was glad he couldn’t see Starsky’s face right now. Would he ever have the courage to ask him what he had seen in the time that Hutch had run the worst, the most important race of his life?  Had the shooting changed Starsky? And if it had-what were those changes? Hutch wasn’t certain, even though he thought he detected an even greater patience with other people, and possibly the determination to achieve more in a shorter period of time. But all that was not necessarily due to the near-death experience. Or was it?

“What else?” He had to keep his question short, so Starsky wouldn’t hear the vividly remembered pain in his voice.

“When the uniforms got there, Kira seemed rather surprised to find the cuffed crook. She said she had forgotten all about him, because she was so upset about McLaine. One of the uniforms claims the mugger wanted to know whether she was a cop or a reporter. Now, if she had been the one to arrest him, he wouldn’t have asked, right?”

“Right.”

“Kira wrote her report after questioning the guy, which seems to indicate she needed some information from him before she could write it.”

“Come on, Starsky. We’ve done the same thing before.”

“Yeah, right. Not at three in the morning, though, when it might be a better move to let the perp stew a little and get some shuteye yourself. And not to fabricate a story for the report, either.”

“Three in the morning?” Hutch repeated. “What did she do in those intervening hours?”

“Unknown. She had no hospital to go to, because Cliff was declared dead at the scene. What really gets me, though?” Starsky faltered. “Cliff was shot in the back. All the uniforms said Kira’s hands were clean when they got there.”

“So?” Hutch didn’t understand what Starsky was trying to say.

“You’re gonna tell me she washed up, right?”

“No. Why would she need to?”

“Hutch! I said she had clean hands. No blood, get it?”

No, Hutch didn’t get it. He was tired and not thinking straight. He kept hearing the echo of Dobey’s voice in his head, telling him, “I think you’d better get down here, right away.” When the car stopped, Hutch was startled–something in him still responded to the charge to reach Starsky, and he felt he should keep moving.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” Starsky sounded calm now, but his voice came from the other direction. Bewildered, and trying to find his way back to the present, Hutch turned his head. The car door was open, and Starsky looked down at him worriedly. “You okay? You look a little green.”

“I’m…okay,” Hutch said, insanely happy again that Starsky was alive and in one piece, and well enough to get annoyed with him. Or get worried about him. He felt a sheepish grin spread over his face. “Can I come in?”

“No, I’m gonna make you sleep in the car so you can moan about your aching back all day tomorrow. Move, you turkey.”

Home, finally. Hutch closed the door behind them, glad to know they had the next day off. He slipped his jacket and holster from his shoulders and hung them on the hook Starsky had added to the frame for his use. Home. Strange, how the little things came to mean so much.

“You hungry?” Starsky asked.

“No,” Hutch said, “just thirsty. Get us a beer and explain about her hands, will you?”

He followed Starsky into the kitchen and hugged him from behind, nuzzling into his hair. “Hey. I love you.”

Starsky turned in his arms and brushed a quick kiss across his lips. “Oh, yeah? Who’s the gorgeous brunette, then?”

Hutch pulled him closer to claim a more satisfying kiss. “You are, dummy.”

Damn. He had promised himself he’d be careful with what he said to Starsky. Calling him names was one old habit that would have to die, hard or not.

“Who’s the somebody you’re seeing, Starsk?”

“I said ‘some body,’ beautiful.” Starsky grinned and ran his hands over Hutch’s back and then lower, his grin widening when Hutch reacted to his touch with an appreciative, deep moan. “And it is some body, let me tell you.”

“Just a body, huh?” Hutch grinned back, quite happy at the moment to be just that.

Something changed in Starsky’s eyes, and Hutch wondered what he had said wrong.

Starsky moved out of the embrace and went to the refrigerator. “You say you wanted a beer?”

“Yeah.”

“Go sit down, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Hutch dropped onto the couch, closing his eyes. The last couple of cases had really taken it out of him.  Some of them had been especially difficult to swallow.

He longed for a vacation.

Well, not so much a vacation. He simply wanted to spend some time with Starsky, uninterrupted by phone calls at all hours, concerning murders and leads and weird witnesses.

He heard Starsky put the bottles on the table–bottles these days, because he knew Hutch preferred them to cans. Then, he felt Starsky’s light fingers massaging his scalp. Mmmm, nice.

“You tired, babe? You wanna hit the sack?”

Tempting. But he didn’t want to go to bed with Starsky, and have Kira’s shadow join them there. He reached up, found one of the gently moving hands, and drew it down a little to kiss the warm palm.

“Yes, I’m tired, Starsk. Aren’t you? But I still want to know about Kira first. Why did you expect her to have blood on her hands?”

Abruptly, Starsky pulled his hand away. “Resuscitation,” he said flatly.

Hutch’s eyes shot open and he turned to stare at Starsky. “What?”

“She obviously didn’t check for the wound–which leads me to think she knew exactly where that wound was–and she didn’t try to keep Cliff alive.”

“You saying she wanted him dead?” Hutch didn’t want to believe it, but something about Kira had warned him that she was ready to employ foul play if it suited her. There was a look in her eyes…a look he had seen in felons, and once or twice, in the eyes of a cop. A cop gone bad. But Kira’s eyes had always been cold and calculating, hadn’t they?

“You got a better explanation?” Starsky walked over to the chair, grabbing his bottle on the way.

Is he too ticked off to sit next to me? Hutch wondered.

Aloud, he said, “That has to be one of the very few cases in the history of criminal investigation where somebody gets implicated because they fail to have blood on their hands. Maybe McLaine was already dead when she found him.”

“Autopsy indicated he bled to death, Hutch.” Starsky sounded frustrated.

Belatedly, Hutch realized he was treating this like one of their cases, when they would bounce ideas and possible solutions off each other. That wasn’t what Starsky wanted tonight. He needed reassurance and support, and he wasn’t getting it. Better try a different approach, then.

“You about to construct a case here, partner? Because if you are, you gotta let me in on that.”

“It’s circumstantial evidence, at best.”

“What did forensics have to say about the bullet?”

“Bullet? Oh. The bullet. That’s another mystery. Cliff was shot with a cop’s gun, one that vanished from a crime scene two years ago.”

“Maybe one of the members of that gang…”

“Apparently, the only connection they found between the two cases is Kira. Couldn’t be proven she did it, though.”

Hutch shrugged and took a swill of his beer. “Remember that cocaine case, when we busted Stryker? Anybody can pick up a gun at a crime scene. Easy enough.”

“Yeah. Just like Burke did–it was Burke, wasn’t it?”

“Never mind that now, I don’t remember either. That was ages ago, and I don’t want to think about it too much. Spill it already, Starsk. Are you saying Kira was at that crime scene two years ago?”

“It just so happens she was. Just so happens that one of the officers at the scene was also shot with that gun. Remember the rumors about Kira and Thompson?”

Hutch frowned. “No, can’t say that I do.”

“Maybe she didn’t tell you. She told me, though. Said that Thompson had invented the whole thing.”

“Invented what?” Hutch inquired, wishing Starsky would get to the point.

Starsky sighed and turned the beer bottle in his hands. “About Kira playing him against his partner.”

Kira had told Starsky that? And Starsky…Starsky had trusted him, certain it couldn’t happen to them. Clever. Kira hadn’t told him, because she had pegged him to be the one to betray his partner. What did the conniving bitch get out of that?

Starsky said quietly, “Maybe she’s envious of lasting relationships. Kira hasn’t been able to work with anybody for longer than five or six months at the most. She’s destroyed at least three long-term partnerships in the last year alone. God knows how many others before that.”

Another unspoken question answered. Starsky was getting too good at this.

“You keeping track of her?”

“No,” Starsky shrugged and put his empty bottle down. “A little. People tell me things. Seems we’re the only unit to get away from her in one piece.”

“No thanks to me,” Hutch voiced the thought bitterly.

Starsky’s anger was audible when he told him, “Don’t go there.”

“Okay,” Hutch said, finally understanding that the veto on his request for forgiveness was punishment in itself. Maybe it was only fair that he wasn’t allowed to unburden his conscience. Kira had cheated on a boyfriend, but he had endangered more than just their team.

“I’m not doing it to hurt you, Hutch.” Starsky’s voice was low.

Hutch marveled that these days, Starsky seemed even more attuned to him. Or was that simply due to the added facet to their relationship?

“I feel so guilty about the whole thing, I can’t stand to talk about it.”

Hutch gaped at him. Starsky didn’t meet his eyes, though Hutch was certain he must feel his stare. Had he heard that correctly? Incredulous, he asked, “Haven’t you got that backwards, Starsk? I’m the one who went to bed with your girl!”

Starsky raised his eyes to meet his, and Hutch could see that it took an effort. He got up and slowly walked over to the chair. Starsky actually moved back in his seat, just a little, but it told Hutch how uncomfortable he was.

“Talk to me, babe. You got no reason to feel guilty.”

Starsky held his eyes a moment longer, then bit his lip and lowered his lids. “Do, too.”

Uh, oh. Down to monosyllables, now. Always a bad sign in Starsky. It usually meant he was furious, or embarrassed. Or teasing him–but he wasn’t doing that now.

Hutch went to his knees in front of his partner and tried to capture his eyes from that angle. Starsky didn’t look up. Hutch finally caught hold of the hands Starsky clenched and unclenched in his lap. “I’m sure you don’t, Starsk.”

Finally, Starsky looked up, his eyes darkened to violet. “You still don’t get it, do you? I thought you were the brains of this outfit, so how come you can be that dumb, you tell me that!”

Struck by the words as much as by the aggressive tone, and attempting to mask it, Hutch said evenly, “No, I don’t get it. Enlighten me.”

Starsky tried to free his hands, but Hutch held on. He knew his grip wasn’t painful, just firm. Then why did Starsky look so tormented? Not physical pain, Hutch decided. And wished he could guess what Starsky had been hinting at.

Finally, Starsky gave up, his hands going limp in Hutch’s grasp. He hadn’t really been trying very hard, which told Hutch he didn’t actually want him to let go. “You really don’t know?”

Hutch shook his head and waited.

Starsky sighed, leaned back and gazed at Hutch, with a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s kinda difficult to remember what it was like, then. Everything has changed so much.”

Hutch nodded encouragement, and now he allowed Starsky to pull his hands away. Starsky gave him a cautious little shove, and Hutch sat on the floor, providing the space his friend evidently needed.

“You had been…difficult, all through that year. I didn’t even know whether…whether you still wanted us to be partners, but I didn’t dare ask, ‘cause I was afraid of what the answer might be.”

Starsky rested his head against the high back of the chair and closed his eyes. A slight frown indicated to Hutch that he was trying to recall what he had been feeling, and struggling to voice those emotions so that Hutch could understand.

“When Kira came along and told me about Thompson,” Starsky swallowed audibly, “I thought that’s how I could maybe figure out…what was going on between us. Get a grip on the situation. Find out…whether what we used to have was lost for good.”

“I know I was wrong, Hutch. I should have tried to talk to you, regardless. But I couldn’t, somehow. I was just so pissed at you most of the time, and so discouraged. It was like I couldn’t reach you at all anymore. You remember how we used to end up yelling at each other for no reason at all?”

“Yeah,” Hutch said quietly, “I remember.” They even had had fights about where to have dinner, or whether to have dinner. So ridiculous, really.

He had fooled himself into thinking he was the only one who’d had a rough year, the only one who was hurting. Had convinced himself his partner was simply a constant source of irritation. Was it really so surprising to hear that Starsky’s feelings mirrored his own, even then?

“There was so much anger between us, so much disappointment. And so little love.”

Hutch remembered that, too. And knew that because of the lack of love, the frustrations had been blown out of proportion.

It was miraculous that so much anger and such heavy disappointment had been left behind, and their love had become stronger and more vivid. Or maybe it was natural–just like coal turned into a diamond when under enough pressure?

The shooting had definitely changed his perception of things and made his priorities abundantly clear. Starsky. Whatever happened, he had to have Starsky.

Starsky opened his eyes again and met Hutch’s. “I was using Kira to test your loyalty.”

Shocked, Hutch sat still for a moment, gathering his runaway thoughts.

Then he scrambled to his feet and strode into the kitchen, quickly, before agony and anger could manifest themselves in a physical blow. He had allowed that to happen once, and had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t bodily lash out at Starsky ever again. He couldn’t bear to see the pain in Starsky’s eyes, a pain that had nothing to do with the punch.

A few minutes later, Starsky followed him. He halted in the doorway, as if uncertain of his welcome. “Hutch?”

“I don’t know which one hurts more,” Hutch admitted, still gripping the kitchen counter in an attempt to keep his fists under control. “You feeling it was necessary to test me, or me failing that test.”

“You ought to be angry. I had no right to do that.”

“I am angry. I’m hurting. But I also feel gauche as hell. I did a few things during that year I’m not exactly proud of, Starsk.”

“So did I.”

“Maybe we both did,” Hutch amended, “but I must have given you ample reason to doubt me.”

“Are we competing for worst partner of the year here?” Starsky asked charily, head tilted.

“No contest. I’d win that one hands down,” Hutch grinned, around the pain squeezing his heart.

Starsky rolled his eyes. “Come off it, Hutch.”

Hutch shrugged. “Sometimes, I felt like wringing your neck. Felt like kicking you out of the car and letting you walk home, however many miles. Felt like telling you to shut the hell up and not say another word until next Tuesday. But underneath all that hostility, I never doubted that you were still…still bonded to me. Still mine. It never occurred to me that you might turn on me. Or away from me. Until Kira.”

Starsky said nothing, but this time Hutch caught the thought, apparently out of thin air. “No, Starsk. You’re not more insecure. Or, if you are, I’m the one to blame.”

“Look, Hutch. I didn’t mean to turn this into a guilt trip for you. I know what those are like. From both sides. It was a rotten thing for me to do. I’m sorry I did it. Can we please leave it there?”

Hutch felt his aggravation evaporate. Kira had happened in the past. There was no reason to drag her specter into their new life.

He finally managed to open his fists, so that he could reach out and rub one thumb gently across Starsky’s upper lip, melting the boiling anger down into warm affection. “You look done in, buddy. Let’s get into bed.”

“Yeah, let’s.”

Starsky led the way into the bedroom, and something in his stance warned Hutch not to touch.

“Starsky? You want me to go home?”

Starsky turned, his eyes reflecting disbelief. And maybe some hurt? “What would you do if we were already sharing that house you keep talking about? Offer to go to a hotel?”

“Sleep on the couch,” Hutch replied, and was pleased when he managed to swallow ‘you moron.’

“I’m not Vanessa. I won’t ever kick you out of bed just because I’m pissed.”

Hutch grinned. “What then?”

“I have no idea, really. I’ve never been in that position before. I guess I’d insist on discussing the issue.”

“Have we discussed the issue?”

“I thought we had.”

“So–now what?”

Starsky sighed, and Hutch detected a definite note of impatience. “Get into bed, Hutch. Before dawn, preferably.”

——

When Hutch came out of the bathroom, Starsky was sitting up in bed, cross-legged. He knew instantly there was something heavy on his mind. “What are you thinking, Starsk?”

“I’m wondering whether getting a house together is such an inspired notion.”

Hutch bit down on the immediate reply and didn’t speak the second thought. The third response was safe enough to voice. “Why is that?” He hovered at the bottom of the bed, indecisive.

Starsky patted the mattress, “Get in before you freeze.”

Relieved, Hutch slipped into bed. The relief increased when Starsky allowed himself to be pulled into a cautious embrace, willingly snuggling down next to him. He yawned, and Hutch realized Starsky must have been suppressing yawns all evening.

Starsky pulled the cover up around them and continued, “We’re used to having some space to ourselves. Getting a bit set in our ways, too. Some of the stuff you do would drive me out of my mind in no time, and I know that you don’t exactly share my taste in music, or films, so I’d be getting to you, too. Maybe it’s a good idea to avoid that kind of problem. We seem to have enough of those, without adding to them.”

“Straight couples have to sort things out,” Hutch ventured.

“Yeah,” Starsky agreed readily, “but they don’t have to hide their relationship from the neighbors. They normally don’t have to keep a working relationship going, while hiding their private life at the same time. They can afford to yell at each other at the top of their lungs, and the wife can run off to cry on somebody’s shoulder. We don’t have that option.”

“That sounds prejudiced, Starsk.”

“It’s the accepted and acceptable American way of life, and you know it. We don’t fit into a pattern, so we gotta find our own.”

“And that pattern means two apartments across town from each other?”

Hutch had tried to hide his reaction to the idea, but knew he had failed when Starsky raised his head to look at him searchingly. He pressed a gentle, lingering kiss on his lips, and Hutch relaxed again.

“Two apartments might be a good idea, Hutch. But how about next door to each other?”

“Probably easier to explain to Dobey. And easier for Dobey to explain.”

Starsky shook his head, soft curls brushing Hutch’s cheek. “I’m not thinking about other people, and I’m not thinking about the job, pal. We gotta find out what works for us and take it from there.”

Hutch yawned. “Right now, I think sleep works for me. Or maybe against me. How about you?”

“Yeah,” Starsky yawned, too. “G’night, Hutch.”

“‘Night, lover.” Hutch tightened his hold possessively. As long as he had that warm body to cling to, he could give up the dream of buying a house together, if he had to. They were still debating the matter, though, weren’t they?

——

The insistent ringing of the phone woke Hutch from what he remembered as an unpleasant dream. Yawning, he reached for the noisy intruder while glancing at the clock. Quarter to six on their day off?

“‘s too early for you to be here,” Starsky mumbled and groped for the receiver, without opening his eyes. His searching fingertips brushed Hutch’s bare chest, and stayed there. Hutch held the handset to Starsky’s ear, grinning.

“What?”

“I love your economic way with words,” Hutch whispered. “Short and snappy.”

A slight smile curved Starsky’s lips and vanished immediately. Simultaneously, his eyes opened, and Hutch could see the alert annoyance in them. Not a good way to start the day. Not a particularly good time, either, come to think of it.

“You have no business phoning me. Anyway, you’re asking the wrong person. Talk to the captain.”

Hutch moved closer and heard the light voice on the end of the line respond, “You’re a real bear in the mornings. Captain Dobey said to get in touch with you.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Well, maybe he didn’t. Maybe I longed to hear your voice. It’s been a long, dark night. I was all alone, and I missed you.” A peal of laughter followed. Laughter like a waterfall of icicles; it made Hutch shiver.

Starsky rolled his eyes. “I’m hanging up.”

“Wait! Wait a sec!”

“What else, Kira? Keep it short.”

“Starsky…do you…do you know where Hutch is?”

“Yes.”

“He’s not at home, y’know.”

Starsky sat up, frowning. “What’re you playing at, woman?”

“Well, I just thought you might be worried. Wouldn’t you expect him to be in bed at this time of day?”

They exchanged a glance, and the wariness in Starsky’s eyes was obvious. Hutch raised an eyebrow and Starsky nodded his understanding. He said nothing, waiting for Kira’s next move.

“Aren’t you worried? Do you reckon something happened to him?”

“His brunet happened to him.”

Starsky handed the receiver to Hutch, who pressed it into the cradle. “Got any idea? She still has our phone numbers, after all this time?”

“Her version of a little black book, maybe? Or a scoreboard, more likely.” Starsky sighed. “I don’t like it.”

“Bit weird,” Hutch granted. “What was she doing, phoning me first, then you?”

“We upped the stakes, when we told her about being involved. Now she can hope to get between us and our fictitious ladies, to boot.”

“Damn,” Hutch muttered. “I was hoping to ward her off.”

“You don’t ward off a snake with rabbits, Hutch.”

Hutch chuckled. “Since when are you an expert on wildlife, huh?”

“I ain’t. I’m an expert on crime, though. I figure Kira has ‘bad cop’ written all over her.”

“Maybe you’re deciphering that wrong, buddy?” Hutch hesitated. “Maybe the sign just says, ‘Beware. Mischief.'”

Starsky swung his legs out of bed. “If you say so.”

“Hey, where are you going? It’s not even six o’clock yet!”

“I’m wide awake now,” Starsky said, already on his way to the bathroom.

“That’s a perfectly good reason to stay in bed.”

The broad hint went unnoticed as Starsky closed the door. A moment later, Hutch heard the shower splash. That was not how he had hoped to start their day.

Disappointed, he got up and pulled his jogging suit on. He went for his run, picking up a paper and buying bagels on the way. When he got back, he moved into the kitchen and started breakfast. He disregarded the health food Starsky had begun to stack up on, and prepared something he knew Starsky would enjoy. Today was supposed to be fun, and there was no point in antagonizing his partner with what he’d call an ‘indigestible meal’.

Starsky came out of the bathroom, barefoot, dressed in jeans and a blue sweater. Hutch thought he looked good enough to eat.

“Find some socks, pal. You’re gonna catch something. It’s December already, remember?”

“Yes, mom.” Starsky grinned and vanished into the bedroom. “Hutch?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m running the washing machine. You need anything washed?”

“Can you put the black sweater in?”

“Done that already. Anything else?”

“No, don’t think so.” Hutch followed Starsky and watched with a satisfied smile. Nice, puttering around the place like that. “How about underwear?”

“I’m not following the golden Hutchinson rule here, buddy.”

“What’s that?”

“Fill the machine up with whatever comes to hand, never mind the outcome. I’m separating stuff, remember?”

“Very organized,” Hutch smiled. “I’ll hit the shower. Can you keep an eye on the kitchen?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’m organized.”

“Jerk,” Hutch said fondly and grabbed a towel.

“I already put clean towels in the bathroom for you.”

“‘Cause you’re organized.” Hutch laughed and deftly caught the pillow Starsky threw at him. “You’re so cute.”

“I’m gonna kill ya for that one.” Starsky advanced threateningly, grinning.

“That’s a killer smile all right.” Hutch dropped the pillow and pulled Starsky into a crushing embrace. “I’m crazy about you, you know that?”

Starsky returned the bear hug and then tilted his head back to look into his eyes, face serious. “You’re becoming very vocal recently. About the way you feel. You trying to disperse my insecurities?”

“No. Well, maybe a little. But basically…I just want to make sure I tell you enough.”

“Enough?” Starsky grinned. “Enough for what?”

“Just…enough.” Hutch shrugged.

Evidently, Starsky now realized he meant it. “Do I tell you enough?”

Hutch considered the question. “You…don’t…say it a whole lot. I’d like to hear it more often. No pressure, though. It’s not as if I have to guess at how you feel; I do know.”

Starsky framed Hutch’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing the corners of his mouth. “I love you, Hutch.”

Utterly solemn. God, it felt good.

The kiss almost felt even better, but Starsky tasted and smelled sweet and clean, and Hutch was very aware he hadn’t even brushed his teeth yet. Reluctantly, he pulled back.

Starsky smiled. “Hurry up about that shower, or the toast turns charcoal.”

——

Hutch was shaving when he heard Starsky take another call. No mistaking that tone–Starsky was irritable. Hurriedly, he dressed and left the bathroom.

“Dobey pulling us in?”

Starsky turned away from the window he had been staring out of, rocking on the balls of his feet. Hutch noticed he still wasn’t wearing socks. “No. Wasn’t the captain. Kira. Swung by your place; said the car was there, but you weren’t in.”

“I might just not be answering the door.”

“You left the key on the ledge again. She went inside.”

It was another habit that would have to die. That key was an open invitation to all sorts of creeps. “She did what?”

“I told her she was out of line, but she said she was just checking on a fellow officer. That woman is up to something, Hutch.”

“I’m beginning to agree with you. Let’s have breakfast and then see whether Huggy can turn anything.”

“I already spoke to him.”

Hutch checked his watch. “At this hour? He must’ve loved that.”

“I didn’t want to wait.” Starsky frowned. “He wasn’t very pleased, but said he’d keep an ear to the ground.”

“Well, let’s wait and see then. What do you want to do today, Starsk?”

Starsky moved into his arms, holding tightly. “Don’t know. Whatever. I just want to be with you.”

“That’s very flattering, buddy.” Hutch buried his face in the auburn curls, inhaling their fragrance. So familiar already, and still so exciting. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he was finally allowed to do these things, to get this close.

“Hutch?”

“Mmm?”

“Let’s see whether we can get Christmas off this year?”

“Sure.” Hutch smiled. “We’ve worked every year so far. I think even we are entitled to having the holidays off once in a while.”

Starsky’s face brightened. “Great.”

They settled at the table, and Hutch poured the coffee. “You planning on doing anything in particular, Starsk?”

“No. I just want to have some time with you, away from the lunatics we see every day.”

“I was thinking about a vacation last night,” Hutch said quietly, buttering his toast. “Nice to see we’re thinking along the same lines.”

“We usually are.”

“And you’re annoyed because we don’t see eye-to-eye on Kira?”

“I guess.”

“Starsky…”

“No. It’s not that.”

Hutch chuckled around a mouthful of toast. “It’s not what?”

“I’m not thinking she’s some sort of monster because of what she did on the Webster case. I don’t think she’s a man-eater just because she went to bed with you.” Starsky took a cautious sip of his steaming coffee and grinned. “I can actually understand that. I like to go to bed with you.”

Hutch somehow managed to swallow the bread without suffocating on it. “Like to, huh?”

Starsky’s grin widened. “Like. Lots. Love.”

“Well, I can certainly understand her sleeping with you. You are one gorgeous brunet, you know. And I love those eyes. Not a bad chassis, either.”

Starsky laughed. “Start talking cars, and I’ll go to Merle’s instead of back to bed with you.”

“I didn’t say anything about going back to bed,” Hutch said innocently. “Now that we’re up, we might as well occupy our time profitably.”

“That’s right. Gotta do the cleaning, see to the washing…”

“Starsk?”

“Oughta vacuum, tidy up the kitchen…”

“Starsky!”

“What?”

“Let’s go back to bed.”

“Thought you’d see it my way. Pretty grey day out there, y’know. The kind of day you want to spend in bed.”

Hutch smiled. “You know…when I think about it, I want to spend every day in bed with you.”

Starsky pushed his plate back and got up. “I wasn’t very hungry, anyway.”

Neither am I, Hutch realized. “Want to take the coffee with us?”

A low chuckle. How he loved that sound. So warm, so sweet, so seductive. So Starsky.

“I’ll just take my Hutch to bed, thank you. No added stimulant required.”

“That so?” Hutch kissed the tempting mouth, felt Starsky take a deep breath and relax against him. Eagerly, he pushed the sweater out of the way a little, running his hands over the warm skin underneath. “Want me to bring some toys, like Hutch junior?”

“Just bring Hutch,” Starsky murmured, his hands making fast work of the buttons on Hutch’s shirt. “And be quick about it.”

Hutch traced his fingertips along the bulging zipper of Starsky’s jeans. “Impatient, aren’t we?”

“Yes. Quit teasing.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I want to take my time today.”

“Hutch!”

“Yeah, I think I want to be real slow about it. We’ve got all day, after all.”

“I hate you,” Starsky whispered, his lips brushing against Hutch’s neck, the tone of his warm voice belying the content of the statement.

“Hate me now, do you?” Hutch chuckled. “I don’t think you deserve me. I think if you want anything done about this–” He swept his fingers along the zipper again, “You gotta do it yourself.”

Starsky took a step back, tossing his head in mock arrogance. “I don’t need you.”

“This is getting better and better.” Hutch grinned. “Don’t need me, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Prove it.”

“Prove it? Okay. How?”

Hutch pulled Starsky toward the bedroom. “Strip,” he commanded softly.

Starsky studied him for a moment, watchful at first, and then there was a challenge in his eyes. “Too cold. You said I’d catch something, not wearing socks. What do you think I’m gonna catch–”

“Starsky…”

“Hutch …”

“Obnoxious creature,” Hutch said, affectionately. “Undress.”

Starsky shrugged and, business-like, pulled the sweater over his head, jeans and briefs followed just as quickly.

Unusual. Not what he had expected at all. Starsky seemed in a weird mood all of a sudden.

“Hey,” Hutch protested, trying to stay in the mood, “that’s cheating.”

“How d’ya mean, that’s cheating? You said–”

“I know what I said, pal. And you know what I said.”

“So maybe I do.” Starsky grinned slyly. “Want me to get dressed again?”

“Well,” Hutch drawled, aware he was lying through his teeth. “The view isn’t all that interesting, y’know. I guess you may as well.”

Something in Starsky’s expression changed, hardening his features, and he made a move as if to pick up his clothes. “You got it.”

Stunned, Hutch closed in on him and hastily pulled him into his arms. “Whoa, slow down, partner. Why are we at each other’s throats? What’s happening here, huh?”

Starsky was rigid under his soothing hands for a long moment, before yielding into his touch. “I don’t know,” he murmured unhappily, “Old issues coming back to haunt us?”

Damn. He should have known that. Here he was, promising himself to stop calling Starsky names, and to spoil him a little. And what did he do? Taunt him, and about his looks, when it had taken so long for Starsky to regain his confidence after the shooting. Why was he doing it?

Hutch sighed. Face it, he thought. You know why you’re doing it. You’re upset about Starsky assessing your commitment. Get real, Hutchinson. If you hadn’t fucked Kira, you’d never have found out.

“Starsky?”

“Yeah?”

“I think…I didn’t want you to love anybody else. Even then.”

“I never did love the woman.”

“You told me–”

“I lied.”

Funny, really. Kira had believed they were playing her game. Hutch had blithely assumed they were playing his. And all that time, both of them had been dancing to Starsky’s tune.

Never underestimate your partner. He’s smart. Shrewd.

Knows all about people.

And he sure knows all about you, Hutchinson. Turned up at your house–not hers!–to give you fair warning to play it straight, too. You thought he was throwing down a gauntlet, when he was throwing you a lifeline.

“Starsk?”

“Yeah?” Was that a smile in his voice? Or guardedness?

“Need to discuss the issue?”

“I guess. Let me get dressed.”

Hutch paused. “No. Let’s get into bed.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Hutch bit his lip.

“Hey. Hutch. I’m not saying I don’t want to make love. Later, all right? I just don’t want her in my bed. Okay?”

“Okay,” Hutch agreed, remembering his own reflections. “I’ll go pour some coffee.”

——

By the time Starsky joined him in the kitchen–wearing socks this time, Hutch noted–he had buttoned his shirt back up, cleared the table, and filled the cups.

Starsky looked…preoccupied. Hutch leaned back in his chair. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. But I guess I ought to. We ought to.”

“Look, Starsky. I don’t know why I cheated on you. It’s not even as if I particularly liked Kira. I was jealous, but–”

“I still don’t want to know, Hutch. At the time, I thought it was about the job. Only, it wasn’t. It was about us. I wasn’t being fair to you, or her.” Starsky straddled his chair.

“Trust you to think of that,” Hutch snorted. “You don’t have to worry about breaking her heart. She hasn’t got one.”

“You do.”

Hutch almost didn’t catch the two simple syllables; Starsky’s voice was so low.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, babe?”

“What?”

“So do you. I wanted to get to you, and I didn’t care on what level. In a way, I was testing your loyalty, too.”

Starsky frowned. “How do you mean?”

“This isn’t easy,” Hutch admitted. “I don’t want to remember it. I mean, I know what I felt and what I wanted, but I can’t really get behind those feelings anymore.”

A grin tugged at Starsky’s mouth. “That’s a good thing, Hutch. ‘Cause if you could, I’d kick ya out.”

Hutch got up and walked around to where Starsky sat. He swung himself up on the table, keeping one leg on the floor. Starsky’s eyes were dark, and he tried in vain to read the thought behind them. “Really?”

“No.” Starsky lightly fingered his sleeve, as if to straighten it. Then he looked up at him. “Any more than I did then.”

No hesitation there.

“I’m so lucky,” Hutch whispered.

“We both are,” Starsky corrected, tilting the chair forward so that he rested on Hutch’s leg. He rubbed his cheek against his jeans, making Hutch wish they had gone to bed first, without arguing.

“What were you gonna say, Hutch?”

“Don’t tell me you never noticed, I’m not buying that. You’re way too perceptive.”

“The competition? Sure I noticed. Kinda hard to miss.”

“Well.” Hutch swallowed. “Getting a girl away from a guy…”

Starsky exhaled. “The ultimate conquest, huh?”

“I suppose so.”

“You got that wrong, of course.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. You don’t win a whore away from another man; they turn tricks whenever it pays. Had you tried that with Terri, you would’ve earned yourself a black eye. Or maybe a somewhat higher pitch to your voice, even.”

Hutch grinned. “What makes you think–?”

“I don’t think. I know.”

“You know?”

“Yes. I know. That wasn’t your mindset, then. It all came together for Kira, Hutch. The contest, the cheap thrill, and our constant clashing. I figure you even knew I didn’t mean it when I said I loved her.”

“You didn’t look at her the way you used to look at Terri. I spotted that.”

“Some detective, if you hadn’t.” Starsky shrugged. “I disliked her for going after my partner.”

It took Hutch a moment to process that.

Starsky tilted the chair back and crossed his arms on the back, and then supported his chin on his arms. Hutch toyed with the dark curls, gently, glad that Starsky didn’t pull away from him.

“I still haven’t got you figured, Starsk. If you were testing my loyalty…why did you hang on afterwards? I mean–I failed the test, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess you did. But then again, so did I. I was being disloyal by putting you to the test; I had no justification to do that in the first place. I reckoned we were even.”

“Strange,” Hutch murmured.

“What?”

“When you phoned me that night? You sounded so…I thought I’d lost everything. I thought you were calling to tell me you wanted out. Actually, I think I was surprised that you got in touch at all.” Hutch took a deep breath. “When we hung up? I felt like I’d gone back in time. Back to when we first met.”

“Me, too.”

“Me, or you? Gone back, I mean.”

Starsky smiled. “Me and thee both, partner.”

Hutch returned the smile. “What about now?”

“Now? After Gunther? I guess…we got a new beginning. Not many people have that chance.”

“Lucky again,” Hutch said.

“Yeah,” Starsky agreed.

Hutch bent forward and stole a tender kiss. “Starsk?”

“What?”

“You said you don’t need me. But if I’m very lucky…do you want me?”

Starsky’s smile seemed to light the room. “I need you. I want you.”

“Bed?”

“Bed.”

——

Hutch woke in the early afternoon and found Starsky still in his arms, but slightly tense and staring into nothingness. “Hey, you. You been awake long? Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I’ve only been awake for a little while. Wanted you to catch up on your sleep.”

Hutch grunted. “Nice of you not to say beauty sleep there, pal.”

A noncommittal sound from Starsky was the only answer to his lame joke.

Hutch frowned. “What’s on your mind, Starsk?”

“Want to go check out your apartment?”

“I thought you wanted to spend the day in bed?”

“If you want to.”

Hutch tried to read Starsky’s face, but found he couldn’t. “Tell me.”

“I think we ought to move your car.”

Now he understood. The face Starsky has when he’s on to something. Not the expression he normally wears when we’re in bed, Hutch thought with a secret smile.

“Is that your instinct behind the wheel, Starsky?”

“I guess.” Starsky sighed. “Look, I’m probably being a jerk about this. I’d just feel better if–”

“Say no more.” Hutch grinned to show he wasn’t annoyed by the change in plans. “My partner wants a ride, my partner gets a ride.”

Starsky hugged him fiercely. “Thanks.”

They dressed, brewed some fresh coffee to have with their bagels, and then set off.

Hutch was astonished when Starsky scanned the area outside his house even more thoroughly than he generally did. Then again, his instincts were usually sound. Hutch felt a tingle travel up his spine in reaction to the thought, and shook himself.

A mile down the road, Starsky said, “We got us a tail.”

Hutch frowned and checked the mirror. After a moment, he ventured, “The green Chevy?”

“Yep.”

“Outrun or shake off?”

“Neither.”

“Why not?”

“Radio the license number in.”

“Starsk…”

“Do it.”

Hutch grunted. So much for a day away from the job. The only time they seemed to get away from it was when they actually left Bay City. And even then, it often haunted them.

The information came back a moment later. The Chevrolet belonged to Kira.

“You recognize her?”

Starsky shook his head. “Not from this distance, with that brunette wig she’s wearing, no. Just a feeling I had.”

“So, why don’t you want to lose her?”

“If we do, she’ll know we noticed her. Keep her in the dark, see what she wants.”

“Why isn’t she working?” Hutch wondered.

“I guess Dobey’s waiting for our decision before putting her on the duty roster.”

“What does she want? If she’s supposed to be working with us, why alienate us?”

“We’re spoiling her perfect record. She’s gonna give it another shot.”

“Breaking us up, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Won’t work.”

Starsky afforded him a quick look, and smiled. “You better believe it, buddy.”

——

Starsky parked outside Venice Place, pretending not to detect Kira pulling into an empty space farther down the road.

They went upstairs, and Hutch lifted a disbelieving eyebrow when Starsky drew his gun. “You don’t think that’s necessary, do you?”

“You know I wouldn’t do it if I thought it was unnecessary. Stand back.”

Starsky pushed the door open cautiously, checking the room before he entered the apartment. They both looked around, not seeing anything out of place at first glance.

“Have those windows barred. The greenhouse secured. Change the lock. Keep the key with you.” Starsky sounded pissed.

Hutch admitted, “I’m beginning to feel uncomfortable about coming in here. When you think about the punks that managed to get in…”

“Add another one to the long list,” Starsky muttered and thrust a photo under Hutch’s nose.

Startled, Hutch stared.

“She really is a lousy cop,” Starsky commented after a moment of heavy silence.

“Yeah,” Hutch agreed. “She should’ve noticed.”

“If she noticed, she failed to remember.”

“Sad.”

“Rather,” Starsky said. “Can you see anything else?”

“No.”

“Check the refrigerator.”

“What do you expect to find?”

“Dunno.” Starsky chuckled mirthlessly. “You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve found in refrigerators. A dead rat, once. A live snake, another time. You just never know.”

Hutch grinned approvingly, remembering the red long-johns that forever went with the snake in the photo album of his mind, and opened the refrigerator. “Sorry to disappoint you, pal. Nothing here.”

“What’s that then?” Starsky pointed. “Wasn’t there yesterday morning.”

“Very good, detective.” Hutch took the bottle out. “Champagne.”

“What’s the note say?”

Hutch rolled his eyes. “Read it.”

A small sign of my appreciation, lover. Only you taste better. Forever, Kira.

Something tightened in Starsky’s face, and he turned away.

“Starsk?”

“I almost asked how she’d know that,” Starsky said, his voice harsh. “Yes, I’m resentful. Not of you touching her. The other way around–because she got that close to you.”

Lack of confidence, Hutch told himself. Maybe even lack of self-confidence, after the shooting. Not something you can take lightly, or get rid of easily. You gave him plenty of reasons to wonder where you stood during that year. Looks like you’d better spend the next year–or even the next few years–telling him exactly where he stands with you.

Hutch tossed the expensive bottle in the trash without a second thought.

He pulled Starsky into his arms and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. “Past tense, babe. Nobody else will ever get that close to me again. Only you. Okay?”

Starsky leaned into the embrace. “Yeah. Sorry.” He sounded tired.

“I think we’re done here, don’t you? What say we go back, I cook us a nice meal and we lounge around for the rest of the day?”

“I’m spoiling your day. I don’t know, it was a stupid idea coming here. I’m sorry.”

“Will you stop saying that,” Hutch rebuked him gently,  “If we hadn’t checked, you would have been wondering all day. At least now we can both relax. And be on our guard tomorrow. Maybe Huggy will have something for us soon.”

“Hutch?”

“Because she was in here this morning.”

“How d’ya know what I was gonna say?” Starsky looked at him, eyes wide.

“You’ve been doing that a lot recently, and I was just wondering whether it works both ways.” Hutch grinned. “So you were really gonna ask why we don’t just stay here?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, Gordo. Tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll swing by the supermarket on the way.”

“Meat-loaf?”

“Only if you promise to eat your vegetables.”

Starsky groaned. “Indian giver.”

Hutch raised a warning finger before Starsky could add anything. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t tell me to be careful. Don’t tell me to watch my back. Don’t suggest coming to the market with me.”

Starsky bit his lip. “You trying to put Collandra out of business?”

Hutch smiled and put an arm around him, feeling protective, and they walked out the door. Hutch locked it and pocketed the key.

“I hope she didn’t have copies made,” Starsky said.

“I’ll have the locks changed,” Hutch promised. “Tomorrow.” He checked his car carefully before getting in, and noticed that Starsky did the same with the Torino.

The rest of the day went as planned, and they turned in early for some deliciously slow lovemaking that narrowed the world down again to just the two of them.

——

“He probably came through the chimney.” Ross laughed. “Ah, no, you only do that at Christmas, right, Hutch?”

So, Hutch had managed to go home, see to those locks and get here before him. Starsky grinned. Discussing Christmas already? Well, maybe Ross was impatient for some holiday spirit, and he did have a little girl, after all. Starsky made a mental note to buy her something nice.  Ross had worked with Hutch during his recovery, and even though he had been jealous, he still felt he owed Ross something for looking after Hutch when he couldn’t.

His grin faded when he caught sight of Kira. She was scowling at Ross, her pretty face an ugly mask.

“‘Morning, Starsky. Tell us how Hutch normally travels.” Ross seemed rather eager to get the first word in.

“Hutchmobile,” Starsky said, waiting for the punch line.

“No, no, Starsky. That–according to Kira–was parked in front of Venice Place all night.”

Starsky resisted the impulse to glance at Hutch. “Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ross said, and Starsky thought he detected a note of warning in his voice. “Kira says she saw Hutch come out of your house yesterday afternoon–but she didn’t see him go in.”

Starsky smiled brightly, trying to ignore his misgivings. “Practicing at being a detective, Kira?”

“I am a detective. I don’t need to practice.”

Hutch grinned. “I beg to differ.” He tossed the photo Kira had left in his apartment onto the table.

Ross grabbed it and read the dedication. ” ‘Thank you for last night,’ with yesterday’s date, too. Quick work. Nice shot of you and the lady, Hutch.” He held the picture out to Sharon. “Explain something to me, partner.”

Sharon took one look at the photo and grinned. “What d’ya wanna know, Peter?”

“How come that blond guy can grow a visible moustache in just one night? I sure wish I could do that, and I have dark hair. And then I wouldn’t shave it back off next day, either.”

“He changed his hairstyle again overnight, too,” Sharon said, smiling. “That explains how he got into Starsky’s house without being seen, of course.”

“It does?”

“Witchcraft,” Minnie grinned.

Hutch laughed. “It’s a good job my sweetheart is a much better detective than you are, Kira. Didn’t buy it for a second. Better luck next time.”

Starsky smiled innocently when he encountered Ross’ sharp glance. He really ought to caution Hutch to be more careful about his insinuations. Ross was one of the good cops, too.

——

“Starsky, Hutchinson.” Captain Dobey’s deep voice scattered the group. “Get in here.”

Starsky suppressed his sigh. They still hadn’t decided whether they could work with Kira. He knew he didn’t want to. He pulled the door to Dobey’s office shut with his foot and pretended not to see Dobey’s frown.

“Starsky…”

“Yes, Capt’n.”

Hutch smiled at him and then gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Starsky smiled back. He felt devilish after that idiotic conversation. What the hell had Ross been trying to tell him? He couldn’t very well ask straight out, or could he?

They both settled into the chairs in front of the captain’s desk.

“Never mind. Did Hutch talk to you about Kira?” Dobey looked at him, and Starsky didn’t much care for the expectant expression he wore.

“Yes. Why us? Didn’t work too well last time.”

“You’re right, Starsky. But I don’t have much choice.” Dobey leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on his stomach. “The commissioner said to have a good team on her case. You’re the best I’ve got.” He grinned suddenly. “If you repeat that to anyone, I’ll deny I ever said it.”

“Flattery don’t work on me; ask Hutch, he can attest to that.” Starsky smiled back. “Why not Ross and Cooper? They’re pretty good. It would give Kira a fresh start. I’m prejudiced, y’know.”

“I needn’t tell you this is confidential. The four of you seem as thick as thieves these days, so you probably know anyway.” The captain frowned. “Ross isn’t having an easy time of it. His wife is up in arms about his working with Sharon. Adding Kira to the team would make things impossible for him.”

Starsky frowned. “I can see that. How about Cameron and Lambert? They’re a terrific duo.”

“Try terrifying duo,” Dobey replied. “Cameron fires her acerbic tongue even faster than she can fire her gun. And Lambert is almost as bad.”

“So,” Starsky smiled, “you’ve been on the receiving end of those tongues. Those two charming ladies have given you a flat-out, incontrovertible no.”

The captain shrugged. “I thought Kira would cause less trouble when working with women. But…”

“Cameron would prefer to fly solo, if you let her. No point in disturbing their team, now that it works. What about Jack Cornwall? His partner is still in rehab after the shooting, isn’t he?”

“Yes, and it’ll be a while before he can come back to work.”

“Shame. Robert Lane is a great cop.”

“Yes.” Dobey hesitated. “Technically, I could put Kira with Cornwall. But I want two people to supervise her.”

“Because of McLaine?”

“You heard?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, yes. For the same reason, I don’t want her with an inexperienced team.” Dobey began to play with a pen. “Look, Starsky. I can see you don’t want to work with her. And apparently Hutch–who hasn’t said one word yet, and don’t think I hadn’t noticed–has decided to leave it up to you.”

Hutch shrugged. “I told you on Monday it was up to Starsky.”

“So you did,” the captain knitted his brow. “You two have survived Kira once, so I’m fairly confident you can do it again. That prejudice might just sharpen your eyes. If anybody can whip her into shape, you can.”

“Fairly confident, huh?” Starsky muttered and exchanged a quick glance with Hutch, who clearly tried to keep his expression neutral. However, Starsky sensed he was still upset about Kira just airily breezing into his home like that. “How long is this crash course supposed to last? If we take too long, we’ll be the ones who end up whipped.”

Dobey rolled his eyes. “Is that a definite yes?”

“It’s a definite maybe. How long, Captain?” Starsky tried not to let his smile show.

“Well. Let’s say…four weeks? Maximum.”

“I can live with that time frame.” He looked at Hutch. “Can you?”

Hutch nodded, probably as relieved as he was that Dobey hadn’t said four months.

“Captain–Hutch and I were thinking about putting in for leave at Christmas. Any objections?”

“Anybody else phrased it like that,” Dobey grumbled, “I’d think it was blackmail. If I see a properly filled out form requesting leave, I’ll sign it.”

“Is that a definite yes?” Hutch asked quickly.

“It’s a definite maybe.”

Starsky got to his feet. “Deal. Thanks, Captain. One thing, though–if Kira does anything to endanger my partner, it’s over. No discussion, no nothing.”

“If she endangers either of you,” Dobey said, “she’s off the force.”

——

When they walked back into the squad-room, Ross and Cooper had left already to do their cruising. Minnie was at Starsky’s desk, studying a file. Kira sat opposite her, doing absolutely nothing; she exuded an air of expectant ennui.

Starsky grinned when he saw what Minnie was reading. That case was so cold that the file alone lowered the room temperature by several degrees. Obviously, Minnie had stuck around for one reason only: to keep an eye on Kira.

Minnie smiled at them. “Huggy phoned, said to meet him at his place. Code One–at your convenience.”

“Okay, thanks, Minnie,” Hutch said, eyeing his desk as though he expected to find something unpleasant on it.

Starsky laid a hand on his shoulder, a brief, hopefully steadying contact.

Kira gave him a hard stare. “You know, I had heard rumors you guys split up.”

“Takes a knife or a woman to split these two.” Minnie grinned and left, winking at them.

Starsky suddenly had a dreadful sense of foreboding. Now, why had Minnie said that?

“Try to be nice, Kira,” Hutch said smoothly, and Starsky could hear the steel beneath the velvet in his voice. “We agreed to work with you.”

“That’s big of you, I’m sure,” Kira muttered disgustedly.

Starsky sighed. “Let’s get this straight, Kira. You either work with us, or you’re out of work. Think about it while we go see Huggy.”

“I’ll let you know,” she shot back.

“You’re not staying here,” Starsky replied and thought, Unfortunately. “From now on, you’re officially under our supervision. Do your thinking in the car. Let’s roll.”

Starsky let Kira walk ahead of him and exchanged a glance with Hutch, who rolled his eyes and grimaced. Starsky smiled encouragingly. Something told him Kira wouldn’t last four weeks.

——

Kira wanted to slip in next to him, but Hutch grabbed her arm. “Starsky needs more room behind the wheel these days. You’ll have to sit in the back.”

Starsky was puzzled by the comment, but only for a moment. Then he understood that Hutch simply didn’t want her getting between them, not even in a physical sense. He caught his eyes and smiled. Hutch winked.

“You sit in the back!” Kira said, sounding annoyed.

“His legs are too long; he’ll get cramps. And with the high heels you’re wearing, you can’t back me up by doing his running for him. Get in, already.” Starsky glared at her, and that seemed to do the trick. Grumbling to herself, she crawled onto the back seat and sat behind him.

Hutch closed the door and half-turned in his seat. Starsky wondered whether he did it to watch Kira.

“If I wear flat shoes, can I sit up front tomorrow?”

“No.” Hutch’s tone clearly said that this was the end of the discussion. “But you’d better wear more reasonable shoes anyway.”

Starsky drove to Huggy’s bar a little slower than he usually did, wondering how they’d manage to discuss Kira right in front of her.

Apparently, Hutch had been thinking along the same lines. When Starsky stopped the car, Hutch said, “You ought to move some. You wanna go in?”

“I thought we could have a drink,” Kira interjected.

“I’ll go,” Starsky said, pretending to pay no attention to her, “gotta stretch my legs.”

The shooting was now a memory, but clearly, Hutch wanted him to play on it. So he moved a little more hesitantly than he normally would, causing Huggy to frown at him in concern.

“Hey, my man, you hurt yourself?”

“Yeah. Having to look at Kira all day hurts like hell.” Starsky grinned.

Huggy pursed his lips. “It’s gonna hurt some more before the day is done, I’m afraid.”

“That bad?” Starsky swung himself up on a bar stool with ease and noticed that Huggy watched closely and then relaxed. Was it nice that his friends were more concerned about him these days, or was it annoying? Sappy, but nice, Starsky decided.

Huggy nodded. “Pretty bad. Where is she now?”

“Out in the car with Hutch. They’re having an icy stare contest, so I thought I’d come in here for some warmth.”

“You can get warm, but you don’t want to leave her alone with Hutch too long,” Huggy said.

Starsky slipped back off the stool, suddenly tense. “Why?”

“Word on the street has it that she’s got it in for you, and she thinks the easiest way to get you is through Hutch.”

“What did I ever do to her?” Starsky wondered aloud.

“My guess is it’s because you chose Hutch over her.”

Starsky blinked. “What?”

“Then, not now.” Huggy sighed. “She wanted you to ditch your partner, and be her boy-toy.  You know, at least until she fancied somebody else. You ditched her, instead, and–”

“Huggy…” Starsky hadn’t meant to sound quite so menacing.

“Come now,” Huggy grinned easily, “you ought to know I don’t care one way or the other. I want you guys to be happy, is all. Swing whichever way you like. Nonetheless, if you don’t want people to speculate, you guys had better start dating some women again.”

“Meaning what?”

“I’ve seen you in here with two beautiful blondes recently. Grace doesn’t count, for obvious reasons, and the other blond is Hutch. Funny thing is, it’s the same blonde I keep seeing Hutch with. Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong.”

It took only the space of one heartbeat to decide. Disown Hutch? And to a friend? Not in a million years.

“You’re right.”

Huggy smiled with what looked like satisfaction. “About time you two saw what everybody else has known for years.”

“That so? Let’s hope our captain doesn’t know.”

“I don’t think he’d mind. He’s pretty broad-based, I figure.”

“I like the way you phrased that,” Starsky knew by the answering light in Huggy’s eyes that his grin was evil. “Be awkward for him if he knew, is all I’m saying.”

Huggy grew serious again. “Watch your back with the Ice Queen. From what I hear, people who cross her have an unfortunate tendency to find unexpected bullet holes in their clothes. While those clothes are on their body, if you catch my drift.”

“You got any names for me?”

“Reed, Cameron, Cortese, Thompson, McLaine. All of them cops. Three of them were from teams that their superiors thought highly of. She had worked with both Reed and McLaine, and accused them of making advances, when reportedly neither had been interested in her.  There are rumors about a lawyer, and some other guys.  I ain’t got names for you, yet.”

Trying to adjust to the jolt, Starsky took a deep breath. “Thanks, Huggy. If you hear anything else…”

“…I know where to find you. Keep your eyes open.”

Starsky nodded and forced himself to walk to the car slowly, even though he felt like running to get back to Hutch and make sure he was safe.

“That bad?” Hutch said as soon as he slipped behind the wheel.

“Three plus the two we were discussing. And then some,” Starsky replied, confident Hutch would understand. By the long intake of breath, he knew he had.

Kira asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’ll let you in on it if and when we deem necessary,” Hutch said darkly.

“It’s not as if I don’t know what I’m doing,” Kira said, sounding defensive. “I’ve been a little unlucky, that’s all.”

Starsky commented, “Seems to me your late partner was a lot more unlucky.”

“I lost him in the dark. It’s in my report.”

“Paper is patient,” Hutch said. “I’m sure glad you found him in time to pick up his handcuffs, though.”

Kira snorted. “You of all people ought to know you don’t react like you normally would when your partner is down.”

“All I know is that my partner did his damnedest to keep me alive. The nurses told me he arrived at the hospital covered in my blood.” Something warned Starsky that he had chosen the wrong topic to divert her attention.

Kira leaned forward, resting her elbows on the back of his seat. Starsky fancied he could feel her cool breath through his hair. It was as if somebody had dropped an ice cube down his sweater, he imagined he could feel the fine hairs in his nape rising.

“So you don’t know what he yelled?”

“Never got around to asking him whether he had much time to talk,” Starsky faked indifference.

“Shut up!” Hutch sounded angry. Or maybe uncertain.

“You don’t want him to know, do you?” Silky-smooth. Starsky felt that if he turned now, he’d see a forked tongue protruding from between her lips.

“Shut up, Kira!” Hutch repeated.

“It’s romantic, Starsky,” she said softly.

Administering her venom drop by careful drop, Starsky thought.

Kira continued, “He yelled, ‘Starsky, don’t you dare die on me, I love you’. Over and over he said it, like a magic chant. Even when he was doing the breathing for you.”

Starsky gave Hutch a furtive look from the corner of his eye. Hutch stared at the balled fists in his lap–white lips compressed into a thin line, as though he wanted to keep things inside. Had Hutch really screamed those words? Did he even know himself whether he had? If it were indeed true, how did Kira know about it? They knew she hadn’t been involved with Gunther; Hutch had done a superb job unravelling that particular web down to its last strand.

“Seems his spell worked. I’m still here.”

“How many lives do you think you’ve got, Starsky? Nine, like a cat? How many lives does Hutch have? How many have you guys used up already?”

Her low voice so close to him sounded chilling and dangerous. Threatening. Starsky almost told her to sit back, but didn’t want her to see how itchy she made him feel.

“Sit back, Kira,” Hutch said angrily, shoving her at the same time. Still fairly gently, Starsky noted; he was glad his partner had picked up on his revulsion.

“I don’t have much room back here, you know. You can’t tell me not to move,” Kira complained.

“Sit on the roof, if you don’t like it,” Hutch replied hotly.

“Not on my roof, she doesn’t,” Starsky said cheerfully, hoping to cool Hutch down sufficiently. “Scratches the paint.”

Hutch must have caught his intention not to let things get out of hand. “She can borrow my magic broomstick.” he grinned.

Starsky shot him what he hoped was a sly look. “Thought nobody could borrow your…stick. Anymore.”

Hutch snorted. “Right. Almost forgot–I conjure up my charms for an audience of one these days.”

Before Kira could come up with an answer, the radio crackled to life. “Zebra Three, 10-57, Code 20, Officers Ross and Cooper.”

Starsky rolled his eyes, and Hutch gave him a terse smile in response. He picked up the radio, “This is Zebra Three, 10-20?”

“Sorry, Zebra Three. Firearms discharged at location…113 Wilshire Boulevard. Handle Code Three.”

“Roger, dispatch. Zebra Three will assist. ETA four minutes.” Hutch slammed the mars light on the roof and turned on the siren.

“What’s on Jenny’s mind recently?” Starsky grinned and changed gears.

Hutch grinned back. “Joe Junior, I expect.”

“How do you know she’s got one?”

“We contributed to the baby shower, remember?”

Starsky kept silent, but smirked, until Hutch colored. Took you long enough to catch on, Hutch.

“You’re impossible, Starsky.”

“And you’re slow, Hutch.”

“I’ll get my revenge when you least expect it.”

“I expect you will.”

Hutch snorted a laugh. “Expect the unexpected?”

“You got it, Sherlock.”

“It’s no fun riding with you,” Kira protested. “It’s as if we don’t even speak the same language.”

Hutch winked at Starsky, and Starsky interpreted it to mean he didn’t mind one bit that they weren’t speaking her language. He grinned. Neither did he.

——

When they arrived at their destination, Sharon’s car was parked in front of a store, lights still flashing.

“Dispatch, this is Zebra Three. We’ve arrived on the scene; all seems quiet. We’re going in,” Hutch reported, and gestured.

Starsky nodded understanding. “Let’s move.”

“Hey,” Kira said. “What about me? What should I do?”

“Watch the front of that shop, don’t let anybody get away from the scene. Warn bystanders away. Stay with the radio,” Hutch said, slipping from the car and drawing his gun.

“That’s a rookie’s job,” Kira replied.

“Quit griping,” Starsky spoke quickly, angry that he had to waste time on trifles.  “No time for a lengthy discussion here. If you don’t like it, file a report. For now, you do as you’re told. Got that?”

“I got that,” Kira’s eyes narrowed nastily. “And I’ll get you.”

Hutch leaned back into the Torino. “Don’t you ever threaten my partner again.” His voice was cold, and Starsky knew Hutch was fully aware that the barrel of his gun pointed straight at Kira’s face.

“Hutch.”

Hutch straightened and met his eyes over the roof of the car. He nodded slightly. Starsky nodded back, hoping that Hutch was really as cool as his signal had indicated.

Hutch moved around to the back, while Starsky sneaked up to the storefront, keeping low. He drew his Beretta and slowly counted to a hundred to give Hutch time to get behind the building and find cover.

Watchfully, Starsky pushed on the door. It swung open. The ceiling lights had been switched off. Starsky took a deep breath and dived through the opening, immediately rolling away from the light filtering through the windows. He crept to shelter behind a shelf and listened.

No sound.

He waited for a long moment, until he was certain he was alone. Then, he moved stealthily to the back. Nothing. In the gloom, he could make out a staircase. One more room to investigate before he could go up there. And he ought to let Hutch know what was happening. Starsky walked through what seemed to be a storage area, quickly, but vigilantly.

Suddenly, there was a yell and hurried steps on the stairs. Starsky wheeled and flattened himself to the wall behind the door, in case the perpetrators decided to leave through the back door. The movement didn’t come toward him, he realized. He left cautiously, but broke into a run when he heard a shot fired.

Fortunately, his eyes adjusted to the light as he came towards the windows. Outside, Sharon was struggling with two men; while Kira was bent over Ross, gun in hand. Starsky grabbed the taller of the men, kicked his feet out from under him, and cuffed him–all in one fluid motion. He took the offender’s gun. When he straightened, Sharon already had the other felon handcuffed to her car.

Both hurried to check on Ross. “Ambulance, Kira. And back-up. Now,” Starsky spoke sharply, in case she was in shock. Another look at her face told him she wasn’t. No time to deal with that now, though.

“Were there more than two perps?”

“No, Starsky,” Sharon said, “Just the two of them.”

Peter pressed a hand to his left shoulder, moaning. “What happened?”

“You took a bullet,” Starsky said, gently moving the bloody hand to check on the wound. “Clean shot, you’ll be fine.”

“Stupid thing to happen,” Ross grumbled. “Damn, that hurts.”

“I know.”

Their eyes met and held. Starsky knew exactly what Ross was going through, his healed wounds almost ached in sympathy. Ross reached for his hand and clutched it tightly. He relaxed a little when Starsky returned the squeeze.

Sharon brought her first-aid kit. Calmly, she applied pressure to the wound. “There must be better ways to get the week off,” she smiled.

“Couldn’t think of any.” Ross grinned weakly. “You gonna come see me in the hospital?”

“Try to keep me away,” Sharon replied.

Ambulance and a black-and-white appeared at the same time, and Starsky straightened. “You go with Peter, Sharon. we’ll bring your car.”

Sharon nodded and glanced at Kira, who sat morosely in the Torino, then back at Starsky. “What about…”

“Later,” Starsky said. “I better go find my partner first.” He had to keep reminding himself he had heard only one shot and that the bullet was present and accounted for.

He asked the paramedics where they were taking Ross, and then walked up to the two uniformed cops. “Can you get a forensic team on the scene and take those two punks in? We’ll come to the station later to file our reports.”

The men nodded and one of them asked, “Ross hurt badly?”

“No,” Starsky replied, finally coming up with the cop’s name. “It’s a clean shot. I’ll tell him you asked, Ron.”

“You do that. Our wives go to evening classes together.”

Starsky watched for a moment as they collected their prisoners. Kira made no move to help them.

Where the hell was Hutch?

“Stay on the radio, Kira. I’ll get Hutch.”

She pointed. “Last time I saw him, he was over there.”

Starsky sprinted over to the side of the building. She would have said something if she had seen Hutch go down, wouldn’t she? She would have given first aid, surely? No, he realized, she wouldn’t. She hadn’t helped Ross, either. One shot, he said to himself–like a prayer.

No Hutch. Heart in his throat, he increased speed and dashed around the back of the building. Then stopped short. Hutch was bent double, retching helplessly.

He should have guessed. Starsky cursed his own insensitivity. Another friend shot in front of him. Small wonder Hutch was unnerved. He hadn’t fully recovered from Gunther’s blast. His lover was still healing.

“Hey, buddy.” Starsky rubbed Hutch’s back soothingly. “It’s okay. Just a shoulder wound. Peter will be fine.”

With a muffled sound, Hutch straightened and startled Starsky by roughly flinging his arms around him. “You jerk. What do I care about Peter? I thought…I just saw the dark hair…I was so scared…”

Starsky belatedly grasped that the odd sounds were sobs Hutch tried to smother. “Easy, easy. I’m here.” He took half a step back and grasped Hutch’s upper arms to give a little shake. “Come on now, babe.”

Hutch drew him closer again, more gently this time, and Starsky felt the fine tremors running through the beloved body. “It was like…I couldn’t move. I was just standing there, frozen. If that had been you, you might have bled to death, and I couldn’t…”

“Hutch,” Starsky spoke sternly. “Stop it. Sharon and I were there almost immediately, and if had been me, it would have been Sharon and Peter. We don’t have to do it all alone, remember?”

“We’ve always done it alone. And all of a sudden, I can’t…” Hutch pushed him away and turned his back.

Starsky put a firm hand on Hutch’s shoulder and brought him around again. “Will you cut it out with the ‘I can’t’ and the ‘I didn’t’? We’ve always had help. Huggy is practically the third member of our team, and whenever we joined forces with Ross and Cooper things worked out fine.”

“Starsky…”

“Don’t you ‘Starsky’ me in that tone of voice, or you’ll be sleeping alone tonight.” Starsky smiled to soften his words. “Quit worrying. You really don’t have to do it all by yourself.”

Hutch hiccupped.

Starsky thought it was a ridiculously endearing sound. “Okay now, Hutch?”

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna kick me out of bed just because you’re pissed.”

“So you remember that, do you?” Starsky grinned. “I wasn’t gonna kick you out. I just wouldn’t turn up.”

“That’s awful. You wouldn’t.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Gotta keep you guessing.”

Hutch sighed around another hiccup. “I’m a sissy, right?”

How he hated it when Hutch did that. “Don’t talk about yourself like that when I’m around, Hutch. Give it time. Neither of us has been quite stable since the shooting. We’ll get there, bit by bit.”

“Yeah.” Hutch exhaled. “Eventually. How come you’re more patient than I am these days?”

“We always balance each other out.” Starsky studied Hutch’s face. Still pale. “How you doing, partner?”

“Feeling like Humpty Dumpty, otherwise I’m fine.”

“Want me to put you up on a fence?”

“It was a wall, Starsky.”

Starsky grinned. “That so?”

Hutch smiled–weakly, Starsky thought–and wiped at his lips. “Back to work?”

“Yeah. Before Kira makes off with my car.” Starsky put his arms around Hutch and squeezed gently. “There’s a bottle of water under your seat, you can rinse your mouth.”

——

They moved around the building to find the Torino gone.

Starsky felt a hot flush of anger, but controlled it for Hutch’s sake. No point in flying off the handle here.

“What did you say about her abducting your car?” Hutch muttered. “Told you the motor was too quiet after that tuning, we didn’t even hear her start up.”

“What happened to the Torino, Ron?”

“Well, Starsky, your partner used it to take one of the perps in,” the uniformed officer explained uneasily.

“My partner,” Starsky said calmly, “is standing right next to me. And I seem to remember telling you guys to take the felons in.”

“Well, yeah, but she’s a detective, and she said everything was taking so long, and she could question the punk while you were at the hospital with Ross. She left almost immediately after you went around the back. There wasn’t much we could do about that. ”

“No, I can see there wasn’t.” Starsky glanced at Hutch. “I suppose we’re lucky she can only drive one car at a time.”

They walked over to Sharon’s car, and Starsky slid into the driver’s seat, quickly making the necessary adjustments to the seat and mirror. He pulled away from the curb and headed down the road.

“Hospital first?”

Hutch nodded and grinned. “Not the Torino, but it sure beats having Lady Gaiety breathing down your neck.”

“Don’t remind me. I bet she breathes fumes; she’s probably a health risk. If she puts a dent in that car…”

Hutch laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. She said she was gonna get you, didn’t she? Looks like she did.”

“Oh, so the lady is a prankster. How charming. Remind me to spank the little horror, will ya?”

“So you know she’s into that sort of thing?”

Starsky slanted a look at him. “How would I know?”

Hutch frowned. “What?”

Patiently, Starsky repeated, “I said–how do you expect me to know what Kira is or isn’t into?”

“Same as I know, I suppose,” Hutch said, sounding puzzled.

“You’re a fool, Hutch.” Starsky grinned. “I was so not interested!”

“W-what? I don’t believe you.”

“Believe me.” Starsky parked the car in the hospital parking lot. “Isn’t that Jasmine’s car over there? She sure got here quick, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, I suppose Sharon phoned her immediately. I just hope she doesn’t give her any heat, it wasn’t Sharon’s fault, was it?”

Starsky halted his steps. “I thought you’d seen it happen? I came running when I heard the shot, I don’t know which of the two punks shot Peter.”

“Me, neither.  I only…only saw him on the pavement.”

“Damn. Let’s hope the stories those guys tell us will match up.”

“I’m not overly happy with Kira getting the first word in,” Hutch said as they approached the information desk.

The nurse smiled at them. “You must be Officers Hutchinson and Starsky. Officer Cooper told me to keep an eye open for you.”

“The woman has her act together,” Starsky said approvingly.

“It would seem she does,” the nurse agreed. “You can meet her in the waiting area on the third floor, Mr. Hutchinson.”

“I’m Starsky, he’s…never mind.” Starsky grinned and grabbed Hutch’s arm. “Y’know, if we got a dime for every time that happens–”

“We could afford two weeks in the Bahamas,” Hutch finished the thought.

——

They were alone in the elevator, and Starsky used the opportunity to smooth Hutch’s hair with his fingers. “You’re a mess, Hutch.”

“Thanks.” Hutch chuckled. “I needed to hear that. Makes me feel better.”

“A beautiful mess,” Starsky said quickly.

Hutch laughed outright. “You’re getting in deeper and deeper; you’d better shut up!”

“I’d love to get in deeper and deeper, but right now we have work to do.”

Starsky watched with satisfaction as Hutch bit his lip, trying to control his reaction to the insinuation.

“Tonight, partner,” Hutch murmured.

“Tonight. It’s a date.”

——

On the third floor, they quickly spotted the waiting room. Hutch led the way. “I hate hospitals,” he grumbled.

“You don’t say,” Starsky replied, vaguely amused.

They quickened their steps when they heard the sound of an argument coming from the waiting area.

“Sharon,” Hutch identified one of the voices, quickening his steps.

“Jasmine,” added Starsky, and then frowned. “What’s Kira doing here? I thought she was going to question that perp?”

“Let’s go ask her,” Hutch suggested, and Starsky detected an angry fire in his eyes.

——

“I told him he’d be safer with a male partner, but no, he had to insist on working with you. Your legs are probably more fun to look at than a guy’s, or what else is on his mind when you’re around?” Jasmine sounded almost hysterical, and Starsky and Hutch exchanged a glance.

What kind of way is that to talk about your husband? Starsky wondered. It looks like that marriage really is on the rocks.

“I did hear him say she’s not a very good cop,” Kira said and then hinted, “I guess there must have been something else; he did have his pick of partners at the precinct. He might even have stayed with Hutch.”

“Fat chance,” Hutch said angrily and turned the corner.

“You did not hear him say that, because I know he’s not thinking it,” Sharon said confidently. “And he couldn’t have worked with Hutch, because Hutch only works with Starsky.”

“You better believe it,” Starsky interjected. “What’s going on, ladies?”

Jasmine pointed at Sharon. “It’s her fault my husband was shot!”

“That’s a heavy accusation,” Hutch said. “What makes you think that?”

Jasmine smiled gratefully at Kira, and Starsky felt his stomach churn. “Kira phoned me; she told me what happened.”

“So, what happened, Kira?” Hutch used his interrogation tone, and Starsky thought he saw Kira try not to flinch.

“Well. One of the felons pulled a gun, and Sharon didn’t get hers fast enough, so she couldn’t do anything about that robber shooting poor Peter.”

“Quick work, Kira,” Starsky said, managing to sound approving. “Getting a statement from the felon, informing Jasmine, and getting here before us–what did you do, fly?”

Kira beamed at him–obviously fooled into believing he was praising her–and then shrugged. “The guy got violent, I had to turn him over to a black-and-white unit.”

Jasmine clearly didn’t understand why all three of them stared at Kira, disbelieving. Her eyes went from Sharon to Starsky and then to Hutch, and they widened when she saw Hutch’s frozen expression. A lot of folks were frightened by that look, Starsky knew. He didn’t particularly like it when it was directed at him, and he wasn’t easily intimidated.

“You had trouble transporting a cuffed prisoner?” Hutch said, his voice low and dangerous.

“Accidents do happen,” Kira retorted, her voice smooth.

Starsky and Hutch traded a glance, and then Hutch said, “I imagine you were a little unlucky?”

“What do you expect, when a woman has to cope with a dangerous criminal alone!” Jasmine exclaimed disgustedly, and then asked, “Where were you guys, anyway?”

“She should have been able to cope,” Sharon countered, “The woman is a Detective Sergeant, Second Class.”

“Second class, and no mistake,” Hutch murmured.

Kira glared at him. “I did as I was told.”

“No,” said Starsky coldly. “You were under orders to stay where you were.”

“I didn’t hear any such orders. My word against yours.”

Starsky shrugged. “And how much does your word weigh with our captain, Kira?”

“We’d better report this to Dobey, don’t you think?” Hutch asked.

Sharon sighed. “He’s on his way here.”

As if on cue, Dobey walked through the door. He greeted Jasmine first. “Mrs Ross. Any news on your husband yet, how is he?”

“If it hadn’t been for Kira, he’d be dead. Officer Cooper is just not good enough to work risky cases like that,” Jasmine responded, her voice heated.

Dobey frowned, but said soothingly, “There will be an inquiry, as always, when a policeman is injured. We will evaluate everyone’s performance on this case.”

“I sure hope so. Peter is a father, our Jennifer doesn’t want to lose her daddy, just because somebody doesn’t do their job.”

Dobey then turned to them. “I need you to file your reports today.”

They all nodded, and Hutch asked, “Is it okay if we wait to hear how Peter is doing?”

“Certainly,” Dobey said, and then grumbled at Starsky, “Did you have to park that car of yours in such a stupid spot? You can’t have been in that much of a hurry? Better move it before somebody complains.”

Starsky glared at Kira, anger flooding warmly through his veins. “So, Kira– where is the damn car?”

Kira replied, “In the first convenient place I found. Somewhere around front.”

“Somewhere around front?” Starsky repeated, and felt Hutch’s steadying hand in the small of his back.

“Keys, Kira,” Hutch said quietly.

“I left them in the car.”

“You better hope I still have a car, then,” Starsky muttered.

“I’ll move her,” Hutch said.

Starsky knew better than to argue with that particular look. “Hutch?”

Hutch nodded. “You got it.”

“They do that all the time,” Kira said. “Can’t you make them stop, Captain?”

“Do what all the time?” Dobey asked, his even voice a calming contrast to that of the two keyed up women.

“Speak this… this verbal shorthand.”

“Didn’t you notice before? They’ve done it for years; you’d better get used to it.” Dobey had a certain evil glint in his eye. “I’m surprised you let somebody else besides Hutch drive that car, Starsky.”

Starsky protested, “I didn’t. I just barely let her sit in it.”

Dobey nodded and gave him a sly wink. “I see.”

Starsky knew that he did, indeed.

——

Starsky was already beginning to worry when Hutch returned a couple of long minutes later. One look told him Hutch had been to the restroom on the way.  Didn’t really like hearing that you were a mess, did you, partner?

They exchanged a glance and Hutch grinned. “No.”

“Good.” He pocketed his keys.

“I can see why that would get to you, Kira,” Jasmine said, testily. “It’s already driving me nuts.”

Hutch looked at Starsky for help, “What is?”

“Husky parley,” Starsky said with a wink.

“Takes years,” Hutch replied.

Dobey smiled. “Or a special talent for Starch speak.”

“Which you seem to have, Captain.” Sharon grinned. “And mere mortals don’t.”

——

A man in a white coat walked into the room. He looked tired, but content. “I’m Doctor Jones. I see everybody is in a good mood. You have good reason. Officer Ross is doing well. We were able to remove the bullet; it has already gone to your forensic laboratories.”

“Can I see him?” Jasmine and Sharon said at the same time. Jasmine glared at Sharon, who shrugged.

Starsky grinned inwardly at the rivalry, and a wicked look from Hutch told him he thought it was funny, too.

The doctor’s eyes went from Sharon to Jasmine, and back. “You are Officer Cooper?”

“Yes.”

“He asked to see you first. He said he had something to tell you. Go to Room 303 and tell the nurse I sent you.”

Sharon nodded and strode off.

Jasmine hissed, “I don’t believe it. So I come second, now?”

“Seems a little unfair,” Kira said.

“Shut up, Kira,” Hutch ordered, and Starsky wondered how often he’d hear those words from his partner over the next few weeks. “Don’t be upset, Jasmine. you heard there was something he needed to tell Sharon. It’s about the case, and he’ll rest easier once he’s told somebody.”

“Maybe it isn’t,” Jasmine sulked. “Maybe he wants to be sure she’s okay.”

Starsky rolled his eyes. “Come now, Jasmine. Sharon travelled in the ambulance with him; he knows perfectly well that she’s fine.”

“Don’t you care about us anymore, Hutch?” Jasmine asked. “Kira said you didn’t even check on Peter.”

Starsky knew it was only a moment before Captain Dobey would step in and ask a few questions. They’d answer those questions–they always did–but not in front of Kira.

He was grateful that Sharon returned then, relieving them of the need for a reply. She looked thoughtful and slightly distracted.

“Sharon?”

“Not now, Hutch.” Sharon sounded exhausted. “Can I have my car keys, guys? I’d better go file that report before I have to pick up my boys.”

Starsky handed the keys over, and Hutch said, “We’ll walk you to the parking lot; I parked our car near yours.”

“Okay, Captain?”

Dobey nodded. “I want a word with Ross. You start the ball rolling.”

Before they left the room, Starsky turned. “Need a written invitation, Kira?”

“I thought I could travel with Captain Dobey,” Kira purred.

“You can’t,” Dobey said. “Off you go, Officer.”

Kira pouted, and followed them very slowly.

“You know…” Starsky muttered.  I hate pouting women. And her lipstick makes it even worse.

“Yeah,” Hutch grinned, “I know. And lipstick makes it worse.”

“Today, Kira,” Sharon said impatiently. “I’ve got two kids to pick up soon.”

Kira spat, “You didn’t much care for Peter’s kid earlier on, did you?”

Sharon raised her hand, but Starsky caught it swiftly and smiled at her. “That’s what she’s hoping for.”

Hutch had cornered Kira against the wall and glared down at her. “Cut it out.”

“You used to be so nice, Hutch. We used to have so much fun,” Kira said. “What happened to you?”

Hutch pressed the button to call the elevator, not bothering to reply.

They rode down in silence, nodded to the nurse at the desk, and stepped into the dismal gloom of a winter day. The light was already beginning to fade.

“What do I do–write the report first, or question one of the punks?” Sharon asked.

Starsky said, “Just write your report, we’ll do both the interrogations.”

“Doesn’t seem fair, it was our case.”

“But we don’t have any little boys waiting for us,” said Hutch said.

“What about your big girls?” Kira asked unpleasantly.

“I’ll bet they think these guys are worth waiting for,” Sharon grinned, as she slipped into her car and re-adjusted the seat and mirror. “I know I would,” she winked at Starsky.

They boarded the Torino and rode to the precinct in silence. Starsky was glad Kira was quiet; Hutch and he had plenty to occupy their minds.

——-

“Both or one-on-one?” Hutch asked, as they walked down the corridor toward the squad-room.

“Both,” Starsky decided.

Kira sighed. “You get a kick out of doing that, don’t you? Tell me, already, what are you on about?”

“Report?” Starsky asked.

“Good idea,” Hutch agreed.

“We question the punks, you write your report,” Starsky translated.

“But I wanted to–”

“We’re being nice to you,” Starsky said. “You’ll get to go home a lot earlier than we will. Take it or leave it.”

Kira shrugged. “Whatever.”

The squad-room was busy; several officers were filing reports and making phone calls. Sharon was already at her typewriter, fingers flying furiously over the keys.

“Trying to break the speed record?” Starsky grinned and put a cup of coffee and a donut on her desk.

“Thanks, Starsky. You’re such a darling.” Sharon smiled at him warmly. “They worry so when I’m late.”

“I expect they do,” Starsky smiled back. “You’re their favorite mother.”

Sharon chuckled. “Yeah, right. Provider of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, mender of clothes, reader of bedtime stories.”

“Supplier of hugs,” Hutch said, “and lots of love.”

Sharon blushed. “You sure you don’t mind questioning those guys?”

“Positive,” Hutch smiled, and Starsky suddenly wished that smile had been directed at him.

As if Hutch had sensed the thought, he looked at him, and the smile became even more affectionate. Starsky swallowed, managed to return the look and smile for a short moment, and then had to lower his lids before the sparks flying between them became visible. That smile was a promise, and he couldn’t wait for the promise to be fulfilled.

Sharon had obviously missed the by-play. “Thanks, boys. I really appreciate it.”

“Sure thing,” Hutch said, and put an arm around Starsky’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “Let’s go, buddy.”

Starsky leaned into the hold for a moment, appreciating the closeness. He was still struggling to conceal the terror that had grabbed him by the throat when he heard that shot fired–so scared that Hutch had been the target.

——

They asked for one of the felons to be brought to a free interrogation room.

“Can I bring Sheers up first?”

“Sure, but why him, Roberts?” Starsky asked, curious.

“Thing is, he’s a bit lethargic. And if you don’t want him to fall asleep on you…”

“We have ways of keeping our prisoners awake,” Starsky snorted. “Was he the first of the two who was booked?”

“Yes, Johnson and Mitchell brought him in.”

“We might want a word with the cops who brought the felon in for Kira,” Hutch suggested when Starsky hung up.

“Yeah, now that you mention it… ”

There was a knock on the door. Starsky called, “Come in!”

“Officer Cooper said you’d want a word.”

Starsky recognized Johnson, a seasoned and very capable cop who was known to love his work.  Good thinking, Sharon.

“Yes, thanks, Steve.” Hutch pointed at a chair. “We won’t keep you long. Was Sheers very troublesome when you took him over?”

Johnson sat and shook his head. “You know, that’s what got to me. Was a bit strange. We were asked to take him in because he was too aggressive for one cop to handle. He didn’t seem to be at all violent; Mitchell and I thought he appeared scared. And he was cuffed. No trouble, really. He seems a bit simple, too. Kept mumbling about some woman swapping guns and giving him injections. Maybe he’s got a thing about women?”

Starsky shook his head. “Looks like we got our work cut out for us. Why do we always get the lunatics, Hutch?”

“We volunteered.” Hutch grinned.

“Remind me not to do that again,” Starsky muttered.

Hutch laughed, softly. “Not until the next time.”

“Anything else?” Johnson asked.

“No, go ahead. We’ll catch you tomorrow if we need further information.”

Johnson left, and Starsky frowned. “You know, Hutch–”

“She wouldn’t,” Hutch said firmly. “Why run that risk?”

“Don’t know. It’s just a feeling I’ve got.”

“A strong feeling?”

Starsky grinned. “Not as strong as the feelings I have for you, but pretty strong, yes.”

Hutch rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Starsky.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially, “Love you, too.”

They shared a smile.

there was another knock on the door, and Roberts pushed Sheers into the room.

Starsky took one look at the wild eyes and the sweaty face, and grabbed the telephone to arrange for a doctor to check the man over.

“I appreciate that, Officer,” Sheers whispered hoarsely. “Nobody takes me seriously. I’m a bit slow, maybe. But what I know, I know.”

“While we wait for the doctor to get down here, you wanna tell us what you know?” Hutch spoke gently, and Starsky decided to just listen and let Hutch handle this one.

Sheers nodded eagerly. “There was this woman. She abducted me, in a red flashy car. And then she took my gun and gave me hers.”

Hutch glanced at Starsky, and Starsky shook his head. He and Sharon had recovered the felons’ guns.

The criminal interpreted the look correctly. “My other gun,” he said proudly, pointing at his leg. “Got an ankle holster, too, because I’m clever.” He slanted a crafty look at Starsky. “Never thought of that, copper, did you?”

Starsky smiled, not wanting to startle the man, even though he was furious with himself for his oversight. “No, that was way too clever for me.”

Hutch scowled at him, and Starsky knew he was in for it later.

“Go on, Sheers,” Hutch encouraged, his anger almost hidden.

Sheers wiped his forehead. “Could I have something to drink, please? Only I’m burning up, Officer.”

Starsky filled a paper cup for him. “Water okay?”

“Anything, thank you.” Sheers gulped thirstily, and then held out the cup. “Some more, please?”

Starsky began to feel sorry for the man. Sheers had obviously been brought up by somebody who knew that good manners would help his feeble mind along in the world, and then he had managed to find the wrong company for himself somewhere.

He refilled the cup and handed it back. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Officer.” Sheers smiled gratefully. “You do believe me, Officers, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Hutch said calmly, “we do.”

Sheers seemed reassured. “You see, I didn’t understand that. I mean, if a cop takes your gun away, they don’t give you another one. I know that. But she did. And then …”

Sheers was shivering, Starsky noticed. Apparently, Hutch saw it, too. Soothingly, he said, “You can see the doctor in a moment. What did the woman do then?”

“She…she asked whether I’m okay. And I was, really. But she said she give me something to make me feel better.” Sheers made a face as if he were about to cry. “She pricked me with a needle. And then…and then I wasn’t okay. I’m feeling really bad. I think I’m sick!”

Hutch patted Sheers’ arm, and Starsky realized that Hutch was feeling pity for the guy, too. Well, he would. Hutch is like that, Starsky thought fondly.

“Come on, Sheers. we’ll get you to the doctor now.” Hutch got up.

“One more thing,” Starsky said quickly. “Did your friend shoot the cop?”

Sheers looked at him, mouth open. “That man on the ground, he was a cop?”

Starsky nodded.

“We didn’t shoot anybody. Spinner takes good care of me, you know. He always says to shoot in the air, ’cause if you hurt somebody, you just go to jail forever. We don’t want to spend a long time in the slammer, Spinner and I.”

Sheers frowned, obviously trying to concentrate. “That woman…she shot at us. Maybe she hit him by mistake?”

Hutch nodded, his mouth a grim line. “We’ll find out. You’ve been a great help, Sheers, thank you.”

Sheers beamed at him. “Thanks for the water and the doctor, Officers.” They walked him to the door together, and upon being asked, Roberts said they had indeed recovered a gun from Sheers.

——

Hutch stalked back into the room, waited for Starsky to close the door, and then whirled on him. Starsky took a quick step back.

“You wanna explain that one to me, partner?”

Too quiet, too controlled. Way too icy.

“Hutch…”

“Don’t you ‘Hutch’ me,” Hutch hissed. “Just tell me how come you overlook a gun on a felon. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Starsky bit his lip. He didn’t want to tell Hutch that he had given Sheers a mere perfunctory once-over after finding the first gun, relying on the uniforms to search the man more thoroughly. Of course, he should have told them to do that, he realized now. Too late.

“Please tell me it wasn’t because you were worried about me,” Hutch said in a low voice.

Starsky stalled, “Look, Hutch…”

“Don’t,” Hutch said sharply. “Give it to me straight.”

“You were nowhere in sight. Kira was watching Ross bleed without doing anything about it.” Starsky shrugged. “I had to hang around, because I didn’t trust Kira with Peter and Sharon and two felons.”

“Sharon is a good cop,” Hutch said.  “And Kira is a cop.”

“Yes, but I think you were right when we were talking about them the other day-Sharon is maybe feeling more than friendship for Peter. She was totally focused on him.”

“I’m beginning to feel there’s a damn good reason for couples who are cops to work on different teams.”

Starsky swallowed. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Be honest, he thought. You just don’t want to ask him whether he’d rather work with Ross. Will you ever get over that jealousy, Starsky? Doesn’t exactly look like it, does it?

“I don’t want to work with anybody else, Starsky. Not even Ross. But if we start making mistakes like that…I don’t want to take that risk. Do you?”

Had he asked that question aloud, after all? No. Hutch had just continued his own train of thought, and as so often, their thoughts had travelled down the same path.

“I’m only human,” Starsky said, astonished at how defensive he sounded. “I make mistakes.”

“Not that kind of mistake, you don’t!” Hutch yelled.

——

Captain Dobey walked into the room without knocking, keen eyes going from one to the other.

Terrific, Starsky thought, I’m really in for it now.

“I told Roberts to hold Spinner for you,” Dobey said coolly, “You need an umpire here, or are you going straight to knives next?”

Hutch stared at the floor, standing very still, and Starsky knew that Dobey could see the effort to control the fury just as well as he could.

“What about it–can you sort it out, or do I need to sort it out?” Dobey didn’t even sound impatient, more…amused?

Hutch looked at Starsky, and Starsky perceived the anger that still simmered in his eyes. “I’ll sort it out,” Hutch said gruffly.

Dobey grinned at Starsky. “Sounds promising. You okay with him sorting you out?”

“He’s my partner. If he can’t sort me out, who can?” Starsky shrugged.

Dobey nodded. “You sort him out?”

Starsky was finally able to grin as well. “Some.”

“Okay,” Dobey said. “So, where did you go after Ross was shot, Hutch?”

Hutch glanced at Starsky, a little helpless.

“Behind the building. He had believed it was me at first.”  Starsky said, trying to be as matter-of-fact as he could. No good hiding it, Dobey needed to know about such things. Damage control–that was what superior officers were for.

“I thought as much. And you were worried about Hutch, so you weren’t too bothered about searching that punk thoroughly. You just wanted to get to your partner.”

“You’d make a good cop,” Starsky said, without rancor.

Dobey snorted. “Don’t rip into each other over that. You still need more time to get over Gunther. I think taking a vacation is a good idea. Before, it was all about healing and getting things back together. It’s about time you got away and had some good old-fashioned fun, the way you used to. You are going away together, aren’t you?”

Starsky nodded.

“Good,” Dobey said. “Pep talk over, back to work. What’s this I hear about Kira shooting Ross?”

“Peter tell you that?” Starsky asked and, at Dobey’s nod, looked at Hutch. “We’re investigating along those lines.”

Dobey grinned again. “You buy it, and Hutch doesn’t?”

“Creepy,” Starsky muttered. “Can you read minds?”

“No,” Dobey shook his head with an air of exasperation, “but I can sure read my men. Especially you two.”

Hutch sighed. “We need more evidence.”

“Make sure it sticks,” Dobey said. “But we can’t pull too many people into this, in case they talk. I’ll get you a search warrant for her apartment. If she did it, I want her off the force–commissioner’s niece or not.”

“I’d been wondering why she wasn’t discharged before,” Hutch said.

“He just moved her from precinct to precinct. But he won’t be able to cover this one, nor will he want to.”

“Sheers says she swapped her gun for his. Gotta find Sheers’ gun,” Starsky said. “We’ve got the one she gave him, and we’ll probably find it’s the one she used to shoot Ross. If we’re very lucky, it’s the one Thompson and McLaine were killed with. But without the other gun, we haven’t got a case against Kira.”

“How come she knew Sheers had a second gun and you didn’t, Starsky?”

Starsky shrugged. “Maybe she could see up his trousers when I had him on the floor? We’d have to question her to know for sure.”

Dobey nodded “I’ve got somebody in the hospital guarding Ross, but you two will have to look after each other. Make sure she can’t get to your girls.”

Starsky almost grinned. That is the real easy part, he thought.

“Keep me posted,” Dobey ordered. “And if you need help, holler. You aren’t alone in this, and I expect you to be careful. I don’t want you to try anything cute, got that?”

“Hutch is cute.” Starsky grinned. “I’m careful.”

“Yeah,” Hutch muttered and shot him a dark look. “Any more careful, and you’ll be hiding behind my skirts, right?”

Starsky hoped fervently he wasn’t blushing.

Dobey snorted a laugh. “I think he’s about to sort you out, Starsky. I’ll leave you to it. Let Roberts know when you’re ready for Spinner.”

“Will do,” Hutch agreed readily, and looked at Starsky with an expression that seemed to say it might be a while.

Dobey left the room, shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

——

Starsky looked gorgeous. that red sweater he wore today seemed to darken his eyes and put highlights into the auburn hair, and that slight flush…he knew full well what he had said there, and it was nice to see Starsky remembered, too.

It was difficult to look at him and stay angry, Hutch realized.

So, Starsky had made a mistake. Still, one up on him–he had just stood around, frozen. Doing nothing. Just like that other time. Gillian had been important. What he felt for Starsky though…that was on a whole different level. Starsky was precious, treasured.

So why yell at him? He’d done enough yelling in the past, trying to cloud the issue.

“I think the captain is right,” Hutch said. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” Starsky repeated, obviously puzzled. “What about, Hutch?”

“Shouting at you as if you were rookie. You didn’t even have back-up there, but at least you did something. When I didn’t.”

Starsky grinned. “Does that mean I get to yell at you now?”

“If you want to,” Hutch shrugged. “I deserve it just as much.”

Starsky grew serious. “So long as you know that, I don’t need to do any shouting. Wanna see what Spinner has to say for himself?”

——

The interview went quickly; Spinner’s story corroborated what Sheers had told them.

After Roberts had picked him up, and informed them that Sheers was in the hospital ward for blood tests and observation, they sat back down to compare notes.

“I still don’t get it,” Hutch said. “Kira doesn’t even know Ross.”

“When he laughed at her earlier–did you see her face?”

Hutch shook his head. “I didn’t pay attention to her. You reckon Ross has caught on to us?”

He was surprised when Starsky sighed at him. “I was beginning to think you wanted him to catch on, Hutch. You’ve been dropping hints all over the place, and he’s too good a cop to miss those clues. And you told Sharon where you parked ‘our’ car.”

Hutch cleared his throat. “So, why would Kira…?”

Starsky interrupted him, sounding concerned. “You getting a sore throat, Hutch?”

“No. I’m just embarrassed,” Hutch admitted reluctantly.

Starsky grinned. “I don’t suppose Ross minds. Neither does Huggy, by the way.”

“Huggy?” Hutch repeated, bewildered.

“He noticed we’re both dating the same gay lady. Kinda obvious, he said.”

“Better be more careful, huh?”

Starsky shook his head, apparently exasperated. “You were flaunting it to Kira, and don’t pretend you weren’t.”

“Well, y’know…I got that gorgeous guy when she doesn’t, and I’m quite pleased with myself.”

“Always knew you were a caveman, bragging on your conquests,” Starsky laughed and gently punched his arm. “Let’s concentrate on our job here, Hutch. I’d like to go home sometime tonight.”

“Me, too,” Hutch said, and smiled. “So tell me–why would she shoot Ross, of all people? What about that look you mentioned?”

“She sure didn’t like him laughing at her. Plus, it’s a neat smoke screen, shooting somebody she barely knows. So far, her MO has been to kill people she worked with. And she must have seen Sheers is a bit dim, and then thought he could be used for her ends.”

Hutch swallowed. “You sure she wasn’t…” No. He didn’t even want to think that. Much less say it out loud.

“Trying to get me?” Starsky finished for him. “No, I figure she does remember what I look like. Besides, right now we don’t need her motive. We need that gun. And we need to know what she injected Sheers with, if anything.”

“I’m getting tired,” Hutch yawned. “You reckon she’s wearing a non-regulation ankle-holster, too? She didn’t have a purse, did she?”

“No purse,” Starsky said, “And no pocket big enough to hold even a small gun. She had trouble enough concealing her official gun under that tight jacket, so that’s not where she had it.”

“You saying it’s a case of her drawing the eye to gun number one, so that we’d miss number two?”

“We mustn’t start thinking she’s keeping stuff from us specifically, Hutch. Kira didn’t really know we were the team she was going to work with. She doesn’t know we suspect her, I hope. If we’re lucky, she just thinks it’s her attitude that bothers us.”

“So, how do we find that gun?” There was one way–but Starsky wouldn’t like it.

“You do that, I’m gonna strangle you.”

“Do what?”

“Get that close to her. You said I’m the only one now to get this close to you.”

“You wanna do it?”

“Nope. I didn’t want to get that near to her the first time around. You oughta remember I don’t much like cuddling snakes.”

Hutch checked his watch to hide the grin. Every time Starsky mentioned snakes, that red number popped into his head. Starsky sure looked devastating in that. He really must get him to wear it again. Soon. “She’s probably already left, so we lost that chance.”

“Tell me something.”

“What?”

“You know, that re-run of the cop-show we watched yesterday?”

“That awful ‘The Streets of San Francisco’ episode you made me watch? What about it?”

“How come those guys catch their perps within sixty minutes flat, minus time out for commercials?”

Hutch chuckled. “It’s in the script, Starsky.”

“Oh.” Starsky yawned. “We oughta get somebody to write us a script. Just once, I’d like to solve a case in an hour.”

“I’ve got a script for you,” Hutch murmured.

“Yeah? Let’s hear it.” Starsky’s smile seemed to indicate that he had already studied the script, and approved it.

“Home. Spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. Bed.”

“That doesn’t sound like a cop show, Hutch.”

“It doesn’t? What does it sound like, then?”

“Sounds more like ‘Lady and the Tramp’, if you ask me.”

“You can be the lady,” Hutch grinned and got up, putting an arm around Starsky’s shoulders to head for the door.

“You always snatch the good parts,” Starsky protested with a mock scowl.

Hutch chuckled. “I’m the writer and the producer, that’s why.”

——

“Damn,” Starsky said, already on the way to the car, “we didn’t type up those reports, Hutch.”

Hutch groaned. “Forgot. Maybe Dobey will let us get away with it?”

“You nuts? On this particular case? No way.”

“I just thought…”

“With the wrong head, buddy. C’mon, let’s get it done.”

“You were…”

“Just as eager,” Starsky smiled. “Yes.”

Hutch sighed, and scanned the area quickly to make sure they couldn’t be overheard. “You look way too cute to sit around a squad-room typing, lover.”

Starsky sniggered. “That so?”

“Yeah. You belong in somebody’s bed, eyes on fire, hair all tousled, looking hot and ready.”

“Shut up, Hutch.”

“My bed, to be precise. Hot and ready for me. Wanting me so bad.”

“Hutch!”

Hutch grinned. He knew damn well he was getting to Starsky here. “Bedroom talk bother you, babe?”

Starsky mumbled something unintelligible.

Hutch chuckled. “Didn’t quite catch that. What did you say?”

“I said…that magic wand of yours had better be ready for some supernatural activity tonight.”

“It’s been sparkling for you all day, hadn’t you noticed?”

Starsky glared at him, and continued to glare as he stepped into the elevator. His voice gave him away though, when he said, “You better make those fingers do some tricks on the typewriter, Hutch. I’ve got a beautiful blond waiting, hot and ready for me.” That slightly furry voice told Hutch that Starsky was eager all right.

The two uniformed cops riding up with them gave some wolf whistles. “Hear, hear. Sure sounds interesting, Starsky. You gonna introduce us sometime?”

“Nothing doing,” Starsky laughed. “You’ll have to make do with Hutch.”

Hutch knew that if he looked at Starsky now, he’d not be able to stop sniggering all evening. He quickly sat at the typewriter and concentrated on his report, and when he read it through, realized there were a lot more typos in his statement than normal. When he read Starsky’s finished report, he saw there were hardly any typing errors. Balancing each other, huh, Starsky, he thought with a grin. How did the guy manage to focus so well, when it was rather obvious he had something else on his mind?

Starsky caught his look, obviously interpreted it correctly, and smiled. “Got my head screwed on right, Hutch,” he said softly.

Hutch groaned. “I’m gonna get you for that one.”

“Oh yeah?” Starsky sniggered. “When?”

“You done? I’d like to get out of here.”

“I’m more than ready,” Starsky smiled, winking.

——

Hutch wanted to silence the offending alarm clock, and–his mind still sluggish–tried to understand why he couldn’t reach. It was the warm chuckle right next to his ear that woke him faster and more efficiently than the alarm clock, though.

“It’s on the other side of the bed in this house,” Starsky said. “‘Mornin’, blondie.”

“So why don’t you switch it off,” Hutch yawned.

“How?”

Hutch realized that he had wrapped himself around Starsky, lying almost on top of him.

Starsky shifted, or tried to. “Move, you big lug. You’re squashing me here.”

“You weren’t complaining last night.”

“I have no complaints about last night, babe.”

“Enough fireworks?”

Starsky managed to snake an arm around his waist somehow, and gave a tight squeeze. “Plenty of magic, lover. Enjoyed every one of your tricks, and adore your wand.”

“Mh. Wish I had some more of that up my sleeve right now,” Hutch murmured and zoomed in for a kiss, shifting his weight off Starsky at the same time.

“Up your–where did you say?”

“Can the sexy smile, Starsk–we set the alarm a half hour later, remember?”

“Fuck,” Starsky muttered.

“Yeah, that was the reason.”

Starsky laughed. “Now that you mention it–I do remember. Go hit the kitchen, it’s your turn.”

“Don’t use up all the hot water,” Hutch cautioned and pulled on his bathrobe, wondering at the same time whether to forget about breakfast and help himself to some Starsky instead.

Apparently, Starsky read the idea in his eyes. He grinned, “I’m not up to that, partner, and neither are you. We’re not as young as we used to be.”

“Speak for yourself,” Hutch grumbled, but realized that it was really only the mind that was willing. Yawning again, he set off into the kitchen.

——

“Did we tell Kira when to meet us?” Hutch asked as he reached for the radio to log them in.

“No, but if she’s not there in time for day shift, it’s her bad luck. We leave when we’re ready.”

“Zebra Three, you’re logged in at 8.35. Captain Dobey says to see Officer Ross in hospital before you come to the station.”

“Roger, dispatch, will do.” Hutch replaced the handset and glanced at Starsky. “Okay?”

“Sure,” Starsky said evenly. “I hope we’ll have the results for that bullet when we get to the precinct.”

“And Sheers’ swapped gun. I hope Kira doesn’t see them before we do.”

“She’ll know, without seeing the information.”

“Maybe,” Hutch conceded.

——

“Hey,” Ross greeted them enthusiastically, “It’s my favorite two cops!”

Starsky grinned. “And here’s me thinking Officer Cooper was your fave cop.”

“She’s my favorite partner,” Ross replied.

“Thanks,” Hutch muttered, pretending to take offence.

“You’re not my partner,” Ross said, “But you can be my fave temporary partner, how’s that?”

“Diplomatic,” Starsky commented.

“I’m good at diplomatic. Jasmine’s a good teacher.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Hutch sympathized. He remembered how Vanessa had reacted to Starsky. If only she knew!

“Wipe that grin off your face, Hutch,” Starsky warned. “It’s not diplomatic.”

“Sorry, the mind wanders,” Hutch apologized.

“Come back with any souvenirs?”

Hutch smiled, “Some.”

Ross cleared his throat, “You guys want me to leave the room?”

Hutch shot Starsky a quick look. How were they supposed to take that?

“No,” said Starsky easily, “Hang around. Captain says you’ve got some information for us?”

Ross nodded, suddenly serious. “The bullet I took? Kira put that in me.”

“How?” Hutch frowned.

“What do you mean, how? She fired a gun,” Ross said, a little impatient.

He’s probably in some pain, Hutch reminded himself, plus he’s not getting along too well with the wife, from the sound of it. “I mean–how did it go down? I didn’t see what happened, and neither did Starsky.”

“A bit odd,” Ross said, “That’s what I wanted to discuss with you. As if she had been waiting for just that chance. Those two guys…”

“Sheers and Spinner,” supplied Starsky. “Small fry. Burglary, petty theft, that sort of thing.”

Ross nodded. “I figure they must have known the building. They went upstairs immediately when we wanted to apprehend them, got into a room with two doors, waited for us to search the other side of the floor, went out their side and made a run for it. I shouted at Sharon…”

“I heard you,” Starsky interjected.

“And we followed them out. Now, if Kira had wanted to stop them, she could’ve done that, easy. They never even pulled their guns on us. If Kira had simply told them to hold it…” Ross shook his head, apparently still baffled. “Instead, she took a pot shot at me. The perps weren’t even in her line of fire.”

“Damn,” Hutch muttered, “makes me feel sick.”

Ross shrugged, and then winced.

Starsky winked at him, “Funny, how such little holes hurt so much, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Ross said, “but you know–this is a piece of cake. I keep thinking about what happened to you, and I feel pretty okay in myself.”

“Well, Gunther was good for something, then,” Starsky said wryly.

Ross snorted. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t,” Starsky replied, and Hutch thought he sounded remarkably peaceful. He remembered only too well how anxiously Starsky had guarded their relationship during his recovery. He also remembered how tactful Ross had been, and how carefully he had included Starsky in their work as much as was feasible. Ross really is one of the good guys, he thought.

“Kira bent over me with that gun in her hand–and you should have seen the look in her eyes! I thought she was gonna put me away there and then. I guess I was lucky you and Sharon were right behind me.”

“Looked a bit odd, the way she was just standing there. I guess she realized she had too many witnesses on the scene, though.”

Hutch wondered whether Starsky was so talkative to stop Ross asking where he had been during that interval, or to stop him from talking to Peter.

“Sharon sneaked in for half an hour last night, after putting her boys to bed,” Ross said, “Dobey told her to let me know about the gun, said I have to keep an eye open here. There’s a guard outside my door, and the only women allowed in here are my wife and Sharon. You know what that is all about?”

“Yeah,” Hutch replied, “Unfortunately, we think we do. Huggy tells us that Kira–how did you say he put it, Starsky?–Kira puts bullet holes in people’s clothes while they wear them?”

“Why, for heaven’s sake? She’s supposed to be a cop!”

“Some cop,” Starsky muttered, “she’s a sore loser.”

Ross frowned, “I hardly know the woman. Why would she go for me?”

“Starsky says she didn’t like it when you laughed at her,” Hutch sighed. “And he thinks she’s trying to change her MO.”

Ross gave him a piercing look that seemed to have teeth in it. “Sounds like you’re not quite in agreement?”

Hutch shrugged. “I guess I’ve seen too many cops go bad. I wish it were something else. But the evidence seems to indicate Starsky is right.”

“You have to find Spinner’s gun.”

“Sheers’ gun,” Starsky corrected. “Yeah.”

“One of you has to get close to the lady, so that the other can search her place. Unless she left the gun in the Torino?”

“She didn’t,” Starsky said, “We checked, of course.”

“Of course,” Ross grinned. “So, who’s the lucky snake charmer?”

“Looks like I drew the lot,” said Hutch.

“Why you?”

“She keeps coming on to me,” Hutch said reluctantly.

“You okay with that?” Ross asked Starsky.

Starsky shrugged. “Sure.”

To Hutch, it sounded like a most decisive ‘no’.

Ross obviously had the same impression. “That didn’t come out right. What is it, Starsky?”

Starsky shook his head. “It’s subjective. There’s something in the way she looks at me when she flirts with Hutch–as if she were waiting for a reaction from me, and she seems disappointed when it doesn’t come.”

“Well,” Ross frowned, “I thought that when I was watching you guys in the squad-room. Looked more like she wanted to flirt with you, and didn’t quite know how to get through to you.”

“Kira flirts with anything that wears trousers,” Hutch said, irritated, and wondering what was chafing him.

Ross exchanged a look with Starsky, and Hutch was startled to see one of the few instances of complete understanding pass between them. Is Kira helping Starsky to get over his jealousy for Peter?

“Really not one of his strong suits, is it?” Ross commented.

“No,” Starsky responded, “Never has been. You get used to it.”

“Hey,” Hutch said uneasily, “Is this Rossky dialect? Can I learn?”

Ross smiled at him. “Stick around, and you might pick it up.”

“I’m not sure I like that,” Hutch grumbled, not properly annoyed, just yet.

“Wouldn’t you rather go in yourself, Starsky?” Ross asked.

“No,” Starsky sighed. “I’d rather send somebody else in. We are in her bad books already. But it’ll take too long to arrange something, and at least Hutch knows what he’s up against.”

“You’d probably do well to remember she is a cop, even if not a good one. But she’ll know what to expect, if she grasps that you are investigating her.”

“I know, Peter. That’s what worries me, too,” Starsky said quietly.

“Is that a professional concern, Starsky, or a personal one?”

The moment he said it, Hutch knew he should have phrased that differently, and addressed the problem in private. There was an angry flash in Starsky’s eyes, and then he turned around to stare out of the window.

Damn, he couldn’t very well kiss and make up in front of Ross, could he?

“Sharon just pulled into the parking lot,” Starsky said after some moments of seemingly icy silence. “I’ve got a couple of questions about her report, I’ll catch you later, Peter. See you at the car, Hutch.”

“Hope you find what you’re looking for,” Ross said quickly.

“Yeah, I’d like to nail Kira for those murders,” Starsky said. “Before I forget–Ron Casey asked after you.”

“Ron’s a nice guy,” Ross said, “but I don’t care for his wife. Susan is putting ideas in Jasmine’s head.”

“Seems an easy thing to do, I’m afraid,” Starsky said. “Gotta run. Look after yourself, Peter.”

Ross nodded, “And you.”

Hutch bit his lip. Starsky hadn’t even glanced at him, but fury was radiating from him in almost visible waves.

“Not exactly one of your better lines,” Ross remarked when Starsky had left. “Not very diplomatic. Nor was that first comment on the trousers.”

That’s what the Rossky dialect was all about, Hutch belatedly realized. He sighed, “No, it wasn’t. Damn. Sorry you got drawn into that.”

Ross seemed about to shrug, but managed to stop himself. “Happens in any relationship. You’re lucky-Jasmine uses sex to blackmail me. At least Starsky doesn’t become hysterical about things.”

Hutch knew he was blushing.

Ross chortled. “It’s a natural biological function, Hutch. Don’t be embarrassed.”

“You never let on you knew,” Hutch mumbled.

“I’ve been around the block a few times, y’know. My degree in psychology doesn’t hurt, either.  Besides, you’ve been dropping hints left, right and center.”

“Not deliberately,” Hutch said. “What do I do now?”

Ross grinned. “You once told me to buy the wife some flowers. Maybe Starsky would appreciate something that.”

“Most likely, he’ll hit me over the head with them. Did it work for Jasmine?”

“Not too well. Ever since I started working with Sharon, she’s determined to find fault with me. I’m giving her another six months, and then it’s over. I hate fighting, and I make mistakes on the job when I lose sleep over it. I’m crazy about my kid, you know that, and I think I still love Jasmine. But I can’t live like that. She was even making a fuss in here, of all places.”

Hutch nodded, “Vanessa was like that. If she wanted a fight, she’d get a fight.”

“You know what it’s like then.”

“I hope you guys get over it.”

Ross sighed, “I sure hope so. A divorce would be hard on Jennifer, most of all.”

“I guess I’d better catch Starsky, he’s mad enough to leave without me.”

Ross seemed to hesitate.

“Go ahead, Peter. Just say it.”

“Oh, I guess…I was going to say to make it up with Starsky before you home in on Kira. He isn’t quite sure about you yet.”

“I won’t ask how you know that,” Hutch said, “But I’ll take that advice. Thanks.”

“Sure. And be careful. Starsky will kill you if you get any bullet holes in that great body of yours.”

Hutch chuckled. “I’ll bear it in mind. Later, Peter!”

——

Though he was eager to get back to his partner, Hutch detoured to the flower shop at the entrance of the hospital. He ordered some flowers, and wanted to write a card to go with them. Upon seeing the expectant face of the sales girl, he had an idea. He drew a few staffs on the card, and then added musical notes. The sales girl looked disappointed, but Hutch smiled to himself. Not many people would be able to decipher that message!

Relieved to see the Torino still parked in the same spot, Hutch lengthened his strides. I probably missed Sharon coming in when I was in the shop.

Starsky was leaning against the side of the car, arms crossed, face cold and unwelcoming.

“It’s a professional concern, you turkey.” With that, Starsky slid into his seat, banging the door slightly more than necessary.

Hutch got in as well, and made sure he closed the door silently. Starsky shot him an irritated look. Quickly, Hutch reached over and stopped him from starting the car.

“What now, Hutch.”

“I was annoyed because it sounded to me as if you don’t trust me to handle Kira. I just didn’t think before I shot my mouth off in front of Ross. I’m sorry.”

Starsky sighed. “Well, at least you must have managed to confirm Peter’s suspicions about us.”

“Afraid so.”

“I don’t think you can handle Kira. Because you’re still giving her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Innocent until proven guilty, remember?”

“Great line, Hutch. Want me to put that on your headstone?”

“I’m not going to go to bed with her.”

“Damn it, Hutch–that’s not what this is all about. This is the second time you’re making that mistake.”

“So tell me what it’s about.”

Starsky rolled down the window and took a deep breath. Hutch speculated whether he was it doing it so that the winter air would cool him off?

“We still have no idea what motivates Kira, pal. Which means you won’t know what to look for. Her mood swings were unpredictable then, and I don’t think that’s changed. The more I think about it, the more I wonder whether she’s trying to use you to get to me, like Huggy indicated. He’s usually right about stuff like that. I’m worried we’re playing right into her hands here.”

“Got any reasons for that hunch?” Hutch knew he sounded hostile, but he hated it when he felt Starsky was questioning his professionalism. Mind, when Starsky had done that the last time, he had put his finger on the wound. It isn’t exactly fair implying that Starsky’s hunches come out of the blue, either, he thought.

Very quietly–and that told Hutch how hard he was trying to keep his reaction in check–, Starsky said, “She phoned me, and tried to make me fret about you. She was watching my house, not yours.”

“Even if it were true, I don’t need to spend that much time with her. I’ll let you know what’s going on and you can go over to her place and check things out.”

“Two problems with that-what are you gonna do to get into Kira’s good books again quickly? You were going on so much about that brunette on Monday, even a conceited bitch like Kira is gonna have a hard time believing you dumped your girlfriend for her, or are double-dating. On the other hand, we don’t have time to take it real slow. And how are you going to let me know? If you phoned me saying you’re now going to bed her that would probably not go down too well. And I won’t have any time frame with which to operate–I don’t think she’ll keep that gun on the coffee table, you know.”

“You’ll have to phone me,” Hutch said, “And I’ll make sure I’ll hold her for two hours at least.”

“And then what? Let’s assume I find that gun–want me to phone you and tell you to cuff her to the bed?”

“Bed is the problem here, isn’t it?”

“For heaven’s sake, Hutch. You really think a conversation about your African violets is gonna hold the woman’s attention for just two minutes? Never mind two hours!”

“She’s not going to pull a gun on you even if she does find you in her house. You can just say that you were checking on a fellow officer.”

“Yeah, with a warrant. Brilliant, Hutch. Quite apart from the fact that she’ll be warned, and we’ll probably lose her. Or she could shoot me and claim it was dark and she thought I was attacking her.”

“That’s being overly dramatic, Starsk. What if you don’t find the gun?”

“Are you saying Ross doesn’t know who shot him? Dobey has a guard on him because he thinks Kira is innocent? I’m a total jerk and have forgotten how to put two and two on a case together? What are you saying, Hutch?”

“You’re jealous, Starsky, and that tends to blind you to certain facts.”

“You’re the one who’s blind. You refuse to believe that women are as dangerous as men, maybe more so. You always think the women you sleep with are Hutch’s little angels. In actual fact, none of them were. Gillian, Diana, Jeannie, Marianne, Vanessa–none of them above suspicion.”

“You’re aren’t doing any better on Starsky’s angels, partner. Rosey and Sharman weren’t good choices, either,” Hutch said, wondering what kind of crazy conversation this was. None of it was worth fighting about, was it? Somehow, it brought to mind the time before the Gunther hit. Damn.

“I knew Rosey was Malone’s daughter. But she wasn’t involved in his crimes. And I didn’t have an affair with Sharman, she was really just an acquaintance. I’m not reproving you here, Hutch–all I’m saying is that you trust women too easily.”

“I guess I’m lucky to be with a guy now, and a cop at that. That should keep me on the straight and narrow, right?”

With a quick flick of his wrist, Starsky started the car and began to navigate it toward the exit of the hospital parking lot.

“Wait, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m getting out of the way. You’re back to throwing words instead of stones.”

Hutch knew himself guilty. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Of course you didn’t. That little gem was supposed to make me feel better, right?”

“Will you stop the damn car again,” Hutch said angrily and grabbed at the wheel.

Starsky checked the mirror and hit the brakes.

“Can you close that window? I’m freezing to death here,” Hutch added.

Biting his lips, Starsky complied.

“Why are we yelling at each other, Starsky?”

“I guess because we aren’t communicating. I wonder whether we’re even talking about the same thing,” Starsky said tiredly.

Hutch sighed, and took a moment to collect his thoughts. Starsky seemed to do the same, because he was quiet as well.

After a while, Hutch ventured, “Okay. First off, I was out of line, and I apologize. None of what I said was very fair, while you were trying to be rational about it. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Okay,” Starsky said equably.

“You want me to go into this assuming that Kira is guilty, right?”

“Right. Why bother to investigate somebody whom you suppose to be innocent, you tell me that?”

“I hate cops going bad,” Hutch muttered.

“You reckon I like it any better than you do?”

“I know you don’t. Tell me something?”

“What?”

“If Kira hadn’t turned up at our precinct, would you have followed up on that lead?”

A long pause. Then, Starsky said, “Yes.”

“How? Without telling me?”

“I would have waited until I had more facts. I didn’t think what I have so far could convince you. I did have somebody to help me, though.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Cameron and Lambert. Cameron’s brother worked with Kira, and thought there were a few things that were odd. After he was shot, she kept in touch with his colleagues at Kira’s precinct, and Cliff was watching Kira closely, too. Maybe that’s what got him killed.”

“You feeling guilty over that?”

Starsky shrugged. “Some.”

“McLaine knew the risk.”

“Yeah, and he’s dead. You don’t even believe there is a risk. How d’ya expect me to feel about that, Hutch?”

“Damn,” Hutch swore softly, “I’m sorry, Starsk. I promise I’ll be careful.”

Starsky reached over and took Hutch’s hand, interlacing their fingers. He didn’t look at him as he said, “Make sure you keep that one promise.”

Hutch tenderly squeezed the cold fingers in his grasp. “Can you find us a quiet side road somewhere?”

“I guess,” Starsky said. “Whatever for?”

“I want to kiss you, and I can’t do that with that gaggle of nurses over there staring at us.”

Starsky chuckled. “They’re probably wondering whether we need help here. If you let go of my hand, we can beat it.”

——

As soon as they walked into the squad-room, Captain Dobey said he wanted to see them.

“Internal Affairs is talking to Kira right now, and they’ve read your reports. As always, the commish will make sure nothing comes of it. Circumstantial evidence, as Kira claims she shot to defend herself against two armed felons, and the sight of another officer down unnerved her, so she couldn’t give first aid. Meanwhile, we will conduct our own investigation.” Dobey sighed gustily. “Not that I like doing things behind the commissioner’s back, but in this case…How are you going to play it?”

“Hutch is going to spend some time with Kira, and I’m going to search her place. You got that search warrant for us yet?”

Hutch was pleased Starsky’s voice was so neutral.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Here, and this is the address,” Dobey handed the warrant and a slip of paper to Starsky, who glanced at it and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. “The report on Ross’ bullet will probably come in later today, the lab is having problems because of the shape it’s in.”

“Shame,” Starsky said, “We were hoping to have it already.”

“Nothing we can do about that, the people at the lab know we’re in a hurry for it. No news on Sheers’ gun yet, either. How’s Ross this morning?”

Hutch shrugged, “Seems to be doing quite well, he was cheerful enough.”

“I guess I’ll put Cooper on desk duty, and he can join her for a while when he gets back to work. Maybe a week or two with regular hours will do his marriage some good.”

“You’re just a big softie,” Starsky grinned.

“Thanks, Starsky, that’s what every police captain wants to hear,” Dobey glowered at Starsky, but there was a twinkle in the dark eyes, Hutch noted. “Which reminds me–Kira gonna cause problems for your relationship?”

Hutch sighed and shared a glance with Starsky, “I don’t plan on letting my girl in on it.”

“I’m not talking about your present fling, Hutchinson. I’m talking about your team.”

At a loss for words, Hutch blinked at Dobey. How was he supposed to answer that? A bit late to think about that, anyway.

Dobey frowned at Starsky, “You think he can handle it?”

“I was worried it would handle him,” Starsky said, “But we discussed it and he promised to be careful.”

Dobey glared at Hutch, and it was a look that made him want to squirm. “I thought you were cute, and Starsky is careful?”

Again, Hutch didn’t know what to say. Starsky came to his rescue, “We traded places for a while. I’m getting to do some of the cute stuff on this one.”

Dobey frowned. “I’m not sure I like that any better. Now that Ross and Cooper are out of the game for a while, who do you plan to pull for backup?”

“Cameron and Lambert,” Starsky said promptly. “Both of them are pretty sharp. But I’d like to have Sharon help me search Kira’s place.”

“Very well,” Dobey nodded, “I don’t need to stress again that this is a very sensitive case?”

“Trust us,” Hutch said.

“If I didn’t, you’d not be on the case,” Dobey grunted. “What are your plans?”

They exchanged another look, and as if they had talked about it before, Starsky said, “We don’t have time to be real slow and suave about it. But we can’t move too quickly either. Gotta do some simple cruising for the next few days, so that Hutch has time to get in with Kira, maybe insinuate that things aren’t going too well on the home front.”

“I can see that,” Dobey said, “I’ll tell dispatch to keep you out of normal traffic.”

“Better have Huggy meet us somewhere, and maybe one or two of our other snitches. Otherwise she’ll be wondering,” Hutch suggested.

“Good idea, I’ll see to it. And I’ll brief Lambert and Cameron, they’ll be on stand-by.” Dobey got up, indicating the meeting was over, “Keep me informed.”

——

The day went uneventfully, and peacefully. Kira still wore the wrong shoes, and an inconvenient outfit, but she seemed less hostile, and Hutch wondered whether it was because she thought she had managed to get rid of evidence against her. Or was it one of the mood swings Starsky had talked about?

They logged out at around 5 p.m. and dropped Kira off at the precinct so that she could pick up her Chevrolet; and then Hutch suggested they drive to Huggy’s for a beer.

Huggy grinned at them, and winked at Hutch, “This the gorgeous brunet I hear so much about?”

“Who told you that?” Hutch asked.

“Sharon,” Huggy explained, “Came in here last night with Cameron and Lambert, they sometimes play darts together.”

Starsky smiled. “I sure hope the girls bring their own darts.”

“They do,” Huggy said innocently, “I keep wondering why. It’s not as if this fine establishment could not supply darts for the keen player.”

“The keening player, you mean,” Hutch grinned.

Huggy grimaced, and Starsky sniggered. “How about beer, can your fine establishment supply that?”

“Sure can,” Huggy replied, “And you’ll get a clean glass even, Starsky, because you are my friend.”

Hutch rolled his eyes. “I think I’m gonna cry.”

“You better cry over the fact that you managed to give us away to the entire squad,” Starsky said, “If Sharon is discussing us in front of Cameron and Lambert!”

“No,” Huggy said, “You’re not entirely out of the closet yet. Sharon said she was waiting to meet that brunette, she wonders whether she’s as nice as Starsky’s Grace.”

“Grace has to get involved sometime soon,” Hutch muttered.

Starsky grinned. “You hope her taste matches yours, huh?”

Hutch scowled at him, but decided to drop the subject. If Kira made a move tonight–if she ever did make a move–he wanted to be on good terms with Starsky.

——

When Starsky pulled into the parking slot outside his house, Hutch said regretfully, “I suppose I’d better not come on in, huh?”

Starsky smiled. “How is Kira supposed to get to you, if you keep hanging around here?”

“I want to kiss you,” Hutch murmured, “For luck.”

“For luck?” Starsky’s smile vanished. “In that case, come on in. But I’m kicking you out in ten minutes.”

“Deal,” Hutch agreed. He was about to get out of the car when he caught sight of Kira. “Damn, can’t. Look at your steps.”

Starsky frowned. “She’s in the wrong place here, isn’t she? Wanna trade jobs?”

“No,” Hutch decided, “We stick with our plan. See what she wants, and make sure you get rid of her quickly. I’ll move to my car, but I’ll park around back and wait for her to leave. Remember about the lights.”

“Okay,” Starsky said, “Give me a ring when you get in, and I’ll phone half an hour later to see whether she turned up.”

“You going to search her apartment tonight?”

“If you’re sure you can keep her with you, yes.”

“Is she still at the same address?”

“Yes,” Starsky sighed. “Don’t those snake charmers keep their snakes in baskets? I wish I could put her in one, and keep the lid on it.”

“You mean, because she’s a basket case?” Hutch snorted.

“Be careful, Hutch. Please?”

Starsky sounded urgent, and that told Hutch he really didn’t like this. “I promised, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. Remember you did, okay?”

“I will, babe. Hey, Starsk?”

“Yes, what?”

“I love you.”

“Feeling’s mutual, Hutch.”

——

“Kira.” Starsky pretended to be surprised at seeing her. “What are doing here?”

“I thought I’d see whether I can entice you to go out for a drink with me,” Kira said, “But I guess your girlfriend wouldn’t like that. She seems very romantic, sending you flowers. I always thought it’s supposed to be the other way around, y’know.”

She held out a big bunch of flowers for his inspection. “Sure hope you don’t suffer from hay-fever, Starsky.”

Starsky noted that she had changed, her blouse was a little more revealing, and she wore flat shoes now.

Trust Hutch to pick today for a quixotic idea. Starsky rather hoped he hadn’t sent a note with the flowers.

“Can you read musical notes? It’s a disgrace, but I can’t,” Kira added and fumbled for the note, while Starsky unlocked the door. He tried not to frown when he saw that she had actually pocketed it.

“Do come on in, Kira,” Starsky said. She was already inside, following close on his heels.

Kira giggled, and Starsky had to suppress a sigh. “You sure she won’t mind?”

It was on his tongue to ask ‘who’, but he caught himself. Concentrate on what you’re doing, he told himself angrily. “She knows better.”

“That you’re not like Hutch, you mean?”

Starsky shrugged, and went in search of a vase. “Let’s not go there, Kira. Read that note to me?” He found himself reluctant to turn his back on her, and somehow managed not to.

“I told you,” she said impatiently, “I can’t.”

And I wanted to rub it in, Starsky thought, how petty can you get? He filled the container with water and arranged the flowers in it. Nice of Hutch to remember he liked sunflowers. Of course, he had never told him he liked them because they reminded him of Hutch–lots of soft brightness, with a bit of a dark hard center.

“Give me that note, Kira?” Starsky set the vase on the table. “Want a coffee?”

“I wouldn’t say no,” Kira smiled and handed the note over.

Starsky looked at it and converted the notes to melody in his head. Typically Hutch. Suddenly, it felt as though Hutch were in the room with him, close enough to embrace. Damn, how he wished he were. He was eager to get rid off Kira, but knew he mustn’t let it show.

“What does it say?”

Starsky smiled and pocketed the note. “Can’t tell ya, it’s private.”

Kira laughed. “It’s something sappy, right?”

Starsky started the percolator and set mugs on the table, uncomfortably aware of Kira’s intense gaze following him around the house. Then again, he was keeping his eyes on her. Somehow, he couldn’t quite shake the thought that she might pull a gun on him any minute.

“You know, you haven’t changed,” she said softly.

Starsky dropped into his chair. “Why did you expect me to change, Kira?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Betrayal by a friend, almost getting killed by some perp…isn’t that bound to change a person?”

“Perps have a habit of trying to kill cops. And said friend saved my life that day, so I guess it evens out.”

“When he walked out of my bedroom, tucking his shirt in? I thought you were mad enough to kill him.”

“Sure I was mad at him. I thought we had something special, and it looked as if it didn’t mean a thing to him.” Catching himself, he added, “Or you.”

“He said you told him you loved me. But he went to bed with me anyway.”

“Didn’t look to me as if you put up a fight,” Starsky said, aware it sounded bitter.

Kira smiled. “I didn’t.”

Starsky got up and fetched the coffee, pouring it into the mugs. “Why not?”

“Everybody at the precinct was talking about what a great team you guys used to be. And how Hutch had started to be really haughty and horrid to you.”

Horrid, Starsky thought. A little girl’s word. It didn’t suit Kira. There was altogether too much about this woman that didn’t fit together, in his opinion.

“They said how Hutch walked all over you, and you didn’t seem to notice,” she continued. “I felt it was up to me to show you what he was really like. I didn’t expect you to think badly of me.”

“What did you suppose I’d think of my girl sleeping with my best friend, Kira? That you were doing me a favor?”

“But I was doing you a favor, Starsky. I never understood why you still wanted to work with Hutch.”

“Good partners are hard to come by,” Starsky said, surprised and pleased his voice remained even. He mustn’t let his real feelings show. Kira still didn’t understand it had never been about her. Hutch. Whatever he did, it was always about Hutch, somehow.

“Is it any easier to come by a good woman?” Kira asked. “You should have stayed with me, and rid yourself off Hutch.”

“I knew you for a month, and Hutch…” Starsky shrugged. “Water under the bridge, now.”

Kira smiled, and Starsky sensed it was an honest smile. “What is she like?”

“She won’t go to bed with Hutch,” Starsky replied, without malice.

Kira nodded. “I see what you mean. Has Hutch changed at all?”

“I guess I’m a poor judge of that. I’m too close to him.”

“Still too close,” Kira frowned. “Why Hutch? Why not work with another partner?”

“We get along,” Starsky said, “Things aren’t always what they seem.”

Kira sniggered. “If he were a woman, I’d know what to think.”

She wasn’t all that stupid, then. A knock saved him from having to reply. Starsky got up and opened the door, relieved to see Grace.

He pulled her into a grateful hug and whispered, “Play along, honey!” He brushed a light kiss on her lips, and felt her giving him a quick squeeze that told him she understood and didn’t mind.

Aloud, he said, “You’re late, sweetheart.”

Grace nodded, “Sorry, Dave, I had to work overtime.”

“Is that why you sent the flowers?”

“Are they here already? Didn’t you get the note?”

“Did, thanks. But you had me puzzled for a moment–you got a C-Flat instead of F-Flat.”

“I thought that looked wrong, but I wasn’t sure.” Grace smiled and gently moved out of his hold. “I didn’t want to start humming to myself in the shop.”

Starsky thought she played it well, when she narrowed her eyes and stiffened visibly upon seeing Kira. “Hello there. Have we met?”

“No, you haven’t, Grace. This is Kira, we’re cruising together for a few weeks.”

“Oh yes, you told me. Hi, Kira, nice meeting you.” Grace dropped her car keys onto the coffee table negligently and held out her hand.

Kira got up and smiled, taking the offered hand. “I was just hanging around hoping to meet you.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Grace smiled, casually dumped her purse on the couch and slipped out of her jacket. “Haven’t you seen enough of Dave for the day? I’m always glad to leave my colleagues–and work–behind in the evening.” She put the jacket over the back of Starsky’s wicker chair.

“Normally, so am I. Dave is an exception.”

Starsky observed Kira watching Grace, and realized that Grace made a good show of being the woman around the house. She didn’t normally spread out like that in his place.

Grace chuckled. “I know what you mean, I think. I’m biased, of course. Do sit down again, and wouldn’t you like another cup of coffee? Or something else maybe? I’m parched, I have to have a drink.”

“No, thank you. I really must be going,” Kira said, “And I’ll bet you want Dave to yourself for a while.”

“Well,” Grace winked, “You know what it’s like. A girl gets lonely.”

“Yes, I know what it’s like.” Kira sounded depressed, Starsky thought. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dave.”

He noticed she had started to call him Dave. He didn’t like it.

“I almost forgot–what did Internal Affairs have to say for themselves?”

So that was what the visit had been all about. “I didn’t talk to them. They only required the written reports from Hutch and me.”

“Oh,” Kira muttered, “is that how they do it?”

Starsky almost asked whether she didn’t know, but then realized that she wanted to find out whether he did. “I guess it must be.” He forced a smile, hoping it looked honest. Then again, she had fallen for his play-acting before, hadn’t she? “I wouldn’t worry about it. We all know accidents happen.”

Kira smiled back, brightly. “I guess they do. Well, tomorrow, then.”

“Good night, Kira.” Starsky waited until her steps died away on the stairs, then switched off the lights and cautiously peered out of the window.

“Very suggestive, Dave,” Grace said. “What did you do that for?”

“Hutch is outside, it’s telling him I’m okay.”

“Is she gone?”

“Getting into her car now,” Starsky replied, watching closely. That grip into her waist–was she adjusting a gun?

“If I were her, I’d drive around to check the light in the bedroom. You want me to switch it on?”

“Good idea,” Starsky said, “Don’t fall over the furniture, honey.”

A moment later, the faint glow from the bedroom illuminated the apartment.

Starsky felt himself relax when Kira pulled away. Seconds later, he recognised Hutch’s car. Hutch had allowed two other drivers to get between himself and Kira. Starsky hoped she was really too dense to notice.

“Give me a minute, Grace.” He grabbed the telephone and asked dispatch to connect him through to Hutch.

Grace picked up Kira’s mug and put it in the sink, rinsing it quickly. She got a fresh mug and poured herself some coffee, topping up Starsky’s mug at the same time.

“Hutch?”

“Thought you wanted me to call you,” Hutch’s voice was a little indistinct.

“I think she’s wearing a gun, in the waistband of her slacks.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Hutch replied, patiently.

“Hutch?”

“I’ll be. Careful.” Hutch chuckled.

“Thanks for…you-know-what. Mushball.” He almost forgot that dispatch liked to listen in to conversations. That would have given them something to talk about at the precinct!

Another chuckle. “Glad you like you-know-what. Were you able to thingy the what-not?”

“Yes. Appreciate the ding-a-ling.”

“I was hoping you might. Look, I’ll call land-line when I get in, okay? I need two hands here, buddy.”

“Okay. Hutch?”

“Yes. And you.”

“Right. Later.”

Reluctantly, Starsky broke the connection.

“Nice recovery on the flowers,” Grace grinned.

“Phew. I almost blew that one. It’s bad enough Hutch can’t resist the hints!”

“Did he really have a wrong note in his message?”

“Of course not, but I had to let you know it wasn’t in writing. Good job you caught on immediately.”

“I was a bit surprised by the enthusiastic welcome,” Grace smiled. “But it sure was nice. Is that the same Kira?”

“The very same.”

“I thought it was somebody dangerous.”

“How?”

“You were still in your jacket, and when we hugged, I felt your holster. And you were tense.”

“Dobey asked us to whip her into shape.”

Grace grimaced. “Can’t be easy.”

“It isn’t. She gives me the creeps.”

“Oh, is that what guys call it? Looked to me like she was giving you the eye, y’know.”

Starsky frowned, misgivings becoming stronger again. “That’s what Ross said it looked like. Damn, I wish Hutch would believe it.”

“You’re asking a bit much there,” Grace shrugged. “He’s got a guilt trip booked for himself, and it doesn’t allow him to see that Kira isn’t all innocent, either.”

Starsky checked his watch.

“The Hutchmobile can’t fly,” Grace grinned. “Give him some time to get home. Are you expecting Kira to drop in on him, too?”

“We’re counting on it.”

Grace tilted her head. “You never discuss current cases with me, and I’m not trying to make you do it now. But it seems to me you’re investigating Kira. Am I in the way here, do you want me to go home?”

“I want to know how it went between you and Karen,” Starsky smiled, “But I will probably have to pop out in the middle. And most likely in a rush, too.”

“Okay. I’ll make it short–things between Karen and me are on hold. I’m still a bit reluctant to start something new, after my last two fiascos. So, we’ll be seeing each other, but not a whole lot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Starsky said. “She did seem like a nice person.”

“She is nice,” Grace sighed. “She’s sweet. It’s me, not her.”

“Give yourself some space.”

“I am. I’m still settling into the new apartment, and I want to take it slow. A bit too slow for Karen, but she’s prepared to wait.”

Starsky glanced at his watch again, and Grace grinned. “Set the alarm. It does take him twenty minutes, about, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m not interested.”

“I’m not thinking that. But I get the impression you’re ready to pace the cage, like some panther at the zoo.”

“I’m gonna start running around this here cage in a minute.”

The phone rang. Starsky frowned. “Too soon for Hutch.”

“Let me answer it,” Grace said, “In case it’s her.”

“Good idea, go ahead.”

“Hello,” Grace managed to say it with the right amount of preoccupied irritation, Starsky thought. She listened intently for a moment, then shrugged and hung up. “I could hear somebody breathing, but nothing was said.”

“It was probably Kira, then,” Starsky said. “I wonder what the hell she’s got planned.”

The phone rang again, and he nodded at Grace to pick it up. “Yes, hello?” She sounded a bit more aggravated now, and then grinned. “For you.”

Starsky grabbed the receiver, “What?”

“Dispatch here, Starsky. Do you want me to reconnect to Kira?”

“No. That was she, was it?”

“Yes, but I thought the line was poor, I only heard communication from your end.”

“Thanks, Jenny. What are you doing still on duty, anyway? Double shifts?”

“Trying to earn a bit of extra money, we need some for the kid. But it sure wears me out on the graveyard shift. You want me to tell Kira you didn’t get her message?”

“No. Don’t mention it to Kira, we’ve been playing pranks on each other all day.”

“I was wondering what’s going on. You want me to patch her through if she tries again?”

“Oh, yes. Don’t let on you know what’s happening.”

“Okay. It’s 10-30, though, isn’t it? Using dispatch for tomfoolery, I mean.”

“Well, I guess you could say it’s bending regulations. A little. C’mon, Jenny. Box of chocolates for you, and a nice toy for little Joe?”

A snigger. “Worse and worse, Detective Starsky. You just added bribery to your crimes, and persuasion to accessory.”

“I hear you. Does that mean I have to offer a bottle of wine on top of everything else?”

“Not wine. That super perfume your girlfriend uses.”

“The perfume my girlfriend…oh. Deal,” Starsky smiled, “but now I’d better free the line.”

“Oh yes, I expect you’re still waiting to hear from Hutch, right?”

“Right,” Starsky had to grit his teeth. He was glad he had remembered Jenny’s tendency to get bored with normal message traffic.

“Don’t forget my spoils, now.” Jenny laughed. “Good luck with that hoax. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Jenny,” Starsky hung up, and frowned at the receiver for a moment.

“How does she know what perfume I’m using?” Grace grinned. “Supposing I’m posing as your current girlfriend.”

Starsky felt himself go red. “What she likes is Hutch’s after-shave, actually.”

Grace sniggered. “You can always say I changed my brand.”

“Good idea,” Starsky smiled.

“There are some things you’d better be careful about. If you keep smelling of Hutch, the ladies will all catch on, sooner or later. I always notice when guys wear a nice scent, and I’m not interested in them!”

“I think we need a list of things to avoid,” Starsky sighed. “This is not as easy as it first looked.” Then he looked at the time again. “Come on, Hutchinson, where are you? The roads aren’t that busy now.”

Grace checked her watch, as well. “Another five to ten minutes, Dave. Now, do you want me to play telephone girl, or do you want me to get out of here?”

Starsky hesitated. “To be frank, if you could keep picking up the phone tonight, that would be terrific. A great help. But it’s putting you at some risk, and I don’t like doing that.”

“What kind of risk, Dave?”

“Well, Kira might take a dislike to you. And she doesn’t exactly hesitate to use that gun of hers.”

“Is that speculation or knowledge?”

“Fifty-fifty, Hutch would say. But I think I’m ninety percent right.”

“Then there’s a ten percent chance nothing will come of it. You reckon you can–what do you call it–put her away tonight?”

Starsky sighed. “Okay. I’ll tell you this much–I have to search her apartment. If I find what we’re looking for, she’s guilty and will be put away. If I don’t find it–we’ll have to keep looking, while Kira can make further mischief.”

“You are convinced she’s guilty, though?” Grace seemed to think for a moment, and then she shrugged. “I’ll take the risk, and trust you to protect me from her if you can’t arrest her tonight. She might not call again, or maybe she won’t dislike me for just answering the phone.”

The phone rang again, and Starsky almost grabbed it. He remembered just in time, and pulled his hand away.

Grace answered it, sounding testy. “What now?”

A moment of silence, then he could hear Hutch’s raised voice say, “Grace? Is that you? Where’s Starsky?”

“Right here,” Grace replied, “I’ll hand you over.” She did, and then wandered off into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Starsky grinned; he knew why she did that. “Hi, partner.”

“If I didn’t know better,” Hutch growled, “I’d think there was something going on. What is going on, Starsky?”

“Kira called. As she had met Grace just before she left, I wanted her to think Grace was here to stay. I thought it was a good idea to let her think Grace sent those flowers. They’re beautiful, by the way.”

“Tell Grace she’s a good actress,” Hutch sounded as if he were smiling. “What were those songs, buddy?”

“‘Sorry seems to be the hardest word’,” Starsky said softly, and then lowered his voice some more, “And ‘Love to love you baby’. Mushball, mushball, mushball.”

“Love you, too.” Hutch laughed.

Starsky had to fight the sudden overwhelming urge to crawl into the receiver to get closer to that sound. Keep working with the right head, he scolded himself. “Didn’t she notice you were following her?”

“No, she took me home quite peacefully. I had to double back on myself, so I could pull in a couple of minutes after she did. There was hardly any traffic, I had trouble hiding. Good job she’s not in Cameron’s class, or Sharon’s.”

“Nobody in your apartment?”

“Just me, and the African violets. Will you quit worrying?” Was that irritation or amusement in Hutch’s tone? “I watched her pull out again. I expect she’ll be back, though.”

Starsky swallowed, but said nothing.

“Starsky? What is it?” Hutch’s voice was gentle. “You feel that badly about it?”

“Yes. I keep thinking there’s something we overlooked, but I can’t figure out what that might be.”

“Hey, even if we missed something–Dobey probably wouldn’t have, huh?”

“Dunno,” Starsky sighed. “Better take that champagne back out of the trash. You might have to drink it.”

“I’d rather not. We have no idea what she laced it with.”

Starsky clutched the receiver more tightly. “I wish you hadn’t said that. Do we need somebody to back you up?”

No answer.

“I’m sorry, Hutch.”

“Sorry about what?”

“Mothering you.”

A low chuckle. “There’s an ‘s’ gone missing somewhere, Gordo.”

“As in–smothering?”

“Yeah, more like.”

“Hutch…”

“Look, partner. I know you’re worried. I just can’t quite understand why. I’m taller than Kira, heavier, and faster. And I’m the better cop.”

“You’re also fair, trusting and decent.”

“And that puts me at a disadvantage?” Hutch sounded like he was grinning.

“You’re not the least bit uneasy about this, are you?”

A moment of silence as Hutch seemed to ponder the question. “No, I can’t say I am.”

“Shit.”

“You want me uneasy?”

“Yes. I want you to feel like somebody was pointing a gun at you.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse than that, Hutch.”

“Look, even though I’m not worried–knowing that you are will keep me on my toes, okay?”

“I guess it’ll have to be.”

“That’s her pulling in now, Starsk. Give me twenty minutes and then call?”

“Will do.” Starsky blew him a kiss.

“I thought you only did that for your mother, babe. What was that for?” There was a definite smile in Hutch’s voice.

“Luck.”

“Thanks. You mushball.” Hutch chuckled and hung up.

Starsky put the receiver down and smiled at Grace. She had come out of the bathroom now that his conversation with Hutch was over. “I’m probably leaving in a minute. You sure you’re okay watching the phone?”

“I can handle it. Why are you so worried?”

Starsky frowned. “It’s not something I can put my finger on. I can only tell you that Kira has always made me uneasy. It’s gotten worse.”

Grace met his gaze candidly. “You’re not afraid she’ll take Hutch away from you, are you?”

“Hell, no.” Starsky shook his head. “I was uneasy about her before we came up with our plan.”

——

Picking up the receiver again and dialing, Starsky thought that Hutch would probably strangle him for this. “Cameron, that you?”

“Lambert, actually. What’s up, Starsky?”

“Kira is with Hutch. Go over to his place and keep an eye on things?”

“What exactly are we looking at?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Oh. That clarifies the matter. Makes the whole thing very transparent.”

“So transparent you can’t see it, huh?”

“That was going to be my next line, Starsky,” Lambert said, sounding indulgent. “We’re on our way. Phone you at home if anything comes up?”

“Try the Torino first.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Grace shook her head at him.   “Hutch will go ballistic when he finds out you were sending the troops in after him.”

“Yeah. I’ll take that risk.”

Grace grinned. “If she phones–what do I tell Kira where you are?”

“Good question.” Starsky thought for a moment. “Tell her I’m talking to one of the neighbours about a disturbance. I’ll phone you every ten minutes, so you can tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine,” Grace said. “I can feel the adrenaline beginning to pump here. Is that why you love being a cop?”

“No,” Starsky replied, “I much prefer having no adrenaline rushes. But I’ll admit it gives me a high when Hutch and I are onto something, and the team meshes well. When things fall into place, and I know where Hutch is at and what he’s doing, and why he’s doing it–I don’t think you can compare that to anything else.”

“Not even sex?”

“Close, but not quite,” Starsky winked. “I guess because the brain isn’t quite so involved during sex, so you’re maybe not so aware of the…intimacy.”

“Interesting,” Grace muttered, “Can I write that down?”

“Yeah, as long as you don’t say where you got that quote from. Hutch would probably not appreciate the sentiment.”

“This is possibly the wrong time to discuss it; but I wanted to ask you before–isn’t it weird?”

“Definitely weird. What is, Grace?”

Grace shrugged, looking a little uncertain. “Well…going to bed with a guy.”

“You mean, after going to bed with countless women?”

“Sort of. Countless, huh?”

Starsky sniggered, glancing at his watch. Another couple of minutes before he could call Hutch. “To be honest, I can still count them.”

“One hand or two?”

“You serious?”

“Yes.”

“Mh. About three or four, I guess.”

“Hands or women?”

Starsky snorted. “Hands, honey. Swinging Sixties, sexy Seventies, swinging bachelor, y’know.”

“And now?”

“Now?” Starsky shrugged. “We didn’t get any wedding bells, but I do feel married. I wouldn’t cheat on Hutch.”

“Not even a passing interest in a pretty lady?”

“No. I don’t normally look, when I’m in love. And I’m in love with Hutch a lot.”

“How long will it take you to search her apartment?”

“So that’s where you’re going with this, is it? About two hours, and I don’t think they’ll be playing Monopoly.”

Grace sighed. “I wish I hadn’t asked.”

“You really believe I hadn’t thought about that sort of thing before now? You do what you have to do when you’re on a job, whether you’re undercover, or investigating somebody. I don’t like it, but as long as it’s just work …” Starsky shrugged.

“How do the wives of cops cope?”

“I don’t suppose they find out. Hutch isn’t likely to tell me how the evening went, and I’m pretty certain he’ll have a shower and change the sheets before I get there. Whether something happened or not.”

“You mean–you know because you’ve had to do that sort of thing? And a wife wouldn’t notice?”

“Not if the cop is any good. Same as the wife mustn’t guess when you’re investigating her best friend’s husband. And if the wife’s any good, she won’t ask.” Starsky checked the time. “I’d better make that call.”

He dialed, impatient for Hutch to answer the phone. It took six rings, and when Hutch answered, he sounded breathless.

“Keep it short.”

“All going as planned, Hutch?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“I’ll go over and conduct my search then.”

“We’ve got…other plans.” A giggle. It sounded as if somebody were tickling him. Starsky resented that. “I guess we’ll be…turning in early.”

It required a conscious effort to unclench his fingers from their death grip on the handset. Don’t get Hutch out of that mood, or she’ll suspect something is up. “Talk to you later, then.”

“See you in the morning.”

Well, that told him, didn’t it? Starsky fought the unbidden jealousy. Words, he thought, just words. Job or not, it’ll take me forever to get over that one.

He was grateful that Grace said nothing. Quickly, he made sure that he had the warrant still in his jacket and checked his gun.

“Got a torch, Dave?”

Starsky grinned. “Typical layman’s question, Grace. Don’t need one. If you see the light from a torch moving from room to room through somebody’s house, you’d probably think burglar, right? I’ll just switch the light on, honey. Nobody will even think about it.”

“Thanks for the information. I’ll remember it, next time I break in somewhere.”

“Good. Don’t let me catch you.” Starsky grinned. “I’ll phone as soon as I get there. This is the address. I won’t use the radio; I don’t quite trust Jenny not to let something slip. Lock the door behind me, and don’t open it again until I get back.”

“Yes, Officer.” Grace smiled and tucked the piece of paper into her jeans. “Don’t worry about me. Good luck finding whatever you’re looking for.”

——

It didn’t take Starsky long to travel the well-remembered and well-hated road. Only too well could he recall every corner, every street-lamp, and every road-sign. They had been etched into his brain when he had raced away from there the last time, Hutch’s guilty expression burning in his mind, and sorrow carving into his heart.

Water under the bridge, right? Don’t cross the same river twice, do you? But, against all odds, sometimes…sometimes you did, because you had to.

He parked the Torino and got out. Leaning against the passenger’s side, he stared across the well-kept lawn at the house for a moment. It was dark, silent and apparently deserted. A bit of a snobbish place for a cop, and a Detective Second Class at that, he thought. Where did the money come from? Well, maybe they’d find out. But they wouldn’t find out anything if he kept standing there.

Sighing, he looked for the piece of thin, strong wire and the tiny screwdriver in the glove compartment. He slipped them into his pocket together with some evidence bags, and then locked the car.

Quietly and quickly, Starsky crossed to the house and, following the new regulations, he put a pair of thin, but sturdy gloves on. Then he tested the lock. Not too easy, but not very difficult. Swiftly, he bent the wire and slipped it into the keyhole. One prod, two prods, and a little jerk. The door snapped open.

Starsky slipped the wire back into the pocket and drew his gun. Cautiously, pressing his back against the wall, he pushed the door open. And waited. Nothing. Crouching low, he moved into the apartment, closing the door.

Scanning the room, he realised Kira hadn’t made any major changes around the place. He made sure the apartment was empty and then grabbed the phone to call Grace.

“All quiet,” she reported.

Satisfied, Starsky began his search. The obvious places first, drawers, cupboards, and wardrobe. Behind cushions, under furniture. Nothing. But those places were too obvious for anybody who had made it through the Police Academy. He found himself wondering at what grades Kira had achieved. Maybe she had been better in training than she was on the streets?

He took a deep breath and searched the bed, grinning when he found handcuffs attached to the headboard. He pulled out a drawer from under the bed and almost jumped when the lid snapped open by itself. Whips, leather garments, clamps and needles. Starsky swallowed, trying not to wonder whether Hutch knew the stuff was there.

“Don’t even think about it,” he told himself, skirting the speculation whether Kira liked to be active or not. “You don’t want to know whether Hutch would go along with this sort of thing. You really don’t.”

Time to phone Grace again.

“There was a phone call from Officer Cameron. She said ‘transparent’ was a word that would prove to you it was really she. No sign of disturbance at Hutch’s place.”

“Transparent, huh?” Starsky grinned. “I like that.”

“I’ve been thinking. You sure you want to call every ten minutes? Isn’t that a bit restricting for you?”

“No,” Starsky said, “It’s my backup. If I don’t call on time, you’d better send some of my colleagues over here.”

“I should have guessed you had a reason,” Grace said, sounding rueful. “That’s why you gave me the address?”

“Yes,” Starsky sighed. “Sorry, I was thinking like a cop. I should have said something.”

“Good job I asked,” Grace said, “But I do think I would have called Sharon for advice if I hadn’t heard from you.”

“I’d better get back to it, Grace.”

The less obvious places, next. Going through coat pockets, jackets, purses and shoes. “Why can’t a woman make do with just three or four pairs of shoes, anyway,” Starsky grumbled to himself as he went through the vast amount of them, careful not to create a visible disorder. Searched between sheets and blankets, sweaters and blouses. Underwear. Starsky made a face. “Getting much closer here than I ever intended,” he muttered.

Time to phone. All quiet, according to Grace. Twenty minutes gone, and about one fifth of the house searched. The more intricate places yet to do. He finished his search in the bedroom. It had yielded nothing of interest to his investigation. But the Finance Department might be grateful for a tip, considering the money Kira must be spending on clothes.

Looking up, Starsky saw his own face in the mirror of the dressing table and was startled at the grim smile on his features.

He checked the time. Five minutes before the next phone call. He crossed back into the tiny hallway and searched the sideboard. Hairbrushes, combs, ribbons, make-up. Gloves, more purses. Some loose change. Pieces of paper with phone-numbers. Hurriedly, Starsky copied them down.

Grace.

“Officer Cameron asked how they could warn you if Kira leaves Venice Place.”

“They can phone you, and you tell me when I call. I can’t answer the phone here.”

“She said that. Will it give you enough time?”

“It takes almost half an hour to get here from Hutch’s place. That’s plenty, even if it happens between two calls. Later, honey.”

He searched the living room. The soil in the plants looks undisturbed, but he checked anyway, careful not to leave smudges of dirt anywhere.

He remembered the built-in cupboards. Records, books, a tape-recorder and a lot of tapes. All those tapes were unlabeled. Some instinct prompted him, and he dug deeply into the untidy pile and slipped a random tape into the recorder. Pressed play. And sat on the floor, suddenly, landing very hard. He scarcely noticed.

Hutch’s voice. Earnest, almost desperate. “Kira–do you love Starsky?”

Her voice. “Yes.”

“Then I guess for a change, he was right.” Right about what, Hutch? Why so bitter?

Hutch seemed defensive. Trying to get away, but not really wanting to. Or maybe he wanted to get away, and wasn’t trying very hard? Starsky pushed the fast forward button, then ‘play’ again.

“What about Starsky? We’ve got him to consider.” Pleadingly. God, Hutch.

“We already have.” Oh yeah, Kira, you were doing me a favor there. Or is that what they call selective memory? You really believe what you told me earlier on?

“How do you feel?”

“Full of you.”

Annoyed, and not certain with whom, Starsky hit the stop-button. As if he had homed in on that particular tape. Was that the only one? Did Kira know it was still there? How come Hutch hadn’t noticed her switching the machine on? Was she routinely running tapes while she had visitors?

He didn’t have time or patience to search further. He hesitated, but only for a moment. Then the tape slipped into his pocket. If the gun didn’t turn up, he’d have to put it back into that pile. If he found the gun, Kira would do hard time and never know this specific tape had gone missing.

Time! Damn. Better phone Grace, and be quick about it.

“I was about to call for reinforcements. You’re almost five minutes late.”

“Sorry. Thought I was onto something.”

“You sound…upset, Dave. You okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Nothing happening here.”

“Back in ten.”

Kitchen or bathroom next? Bathroom, he decided. Clothes hamper first. He made sure to put the items on top to one side. She’d probably remember what she had dumped in there last; he knew he usually did. He rifled through the clothes, trying to ignore the strong sweet smell of perfume that sickeningly invaded his nostrils. Nothing. He went through towels and bathrobes, and glanced over the beauty cabinet. Some of the stuff had collected dust. Starsky grimaced. Looked like Kira wasn’t a wonderful housekeeper. No new fingerprints, and not enough room for a gun.

What about the toilet-tank? He had some trouble coaxing the lid off, and he didn’t think Kira could have managed that. Nothing inside. He pushed the lid back firmly, making sure it was stuck again. The U-bend? Dusty, so it hadn’t been taken apart recently. From the amount of cobwebs the pipes under the sink had collected, she had not hidden anything there. Search the inside of the toilet? He knew he ought to, but didn’t relish the idea. He was here to find that gun, and if she had that hidden anywhere else…

A glance at the watch decided the question. He went to phone Grace again, and then moved into the kitchen. The woman needed help, urgently. Go through that sink, piled high with used crockery? No, exhaust all other possibilities first. He looked into pots and pans, bowls and dishes. Hesitantly, he opened the cupboard under the sink. And closed it again, thick cobwebs and a lot of dust enough verification that Kira hadn’t opened that door in ages.

Time to give Grace another call. Nothing happening there, fortunately.

Where was that gun? He had been so certain it was here. It might be in her car. Or on her body? Starsky snorted. Then Hutch would find it, wouldn’t he? Only, he didn’t want him to find it.

Sighing, he went back into the kitchen. Damn, but the place was untidy, once you started to look closely. He searched the refrigerator. It took almost ten minutes, and tight control over his heaving stomach. Nerves, he told himself. And knew it wasn’t the refrigerator that was upsetting him.

He was glad when it was time to ring Grace.

“Officer Lambert called. She said to tell you they’re transparently becoming bored.” Grace giggled. “Is it more exciting where you are?”

“I just looked into the ice-box. The bacon has begun to graze on the lettuce, and the minced meat was growling at me. Exciting enough?”

“Sounds like a bachelor’s dream,” Grace commented with a snort.

“Hey, my place never looks like that,” Starsky said.

“I know,” Grace giggled again. “Hutch told me your place is so tidy, you can make love on the floor without getting dust bunnies in your hair.”

“He didn’t.”

“Did. He was a bit drunk, though. Remember, the other evening at Huggy’s?”

Honestly, Hutch. Starsky smiled, fondness overruling other, more negative emotions. “I’ll call again later, Grace.”

Back into the kitchen. He climbed a chair and checked the top of the cupboards. Nothing. Where else? The trash. Nice to be wearing gloves. His eyes went to the oven. He hadn’t checked that yet, had he? He pushed the plate with whatever Kira had wrapped in tinfoil aside and crouched. Quickly, his fingertips dipped into the dark corners. Nothing.

He was about to close the oven door again when his eyes were caught by the twinkle of the foil. She hadn’t bothered to cover any of the stuff in the refrigerator. So why wrap whatever this was?

Starsky grabbed the plate and put it on the counter. Carefully, he teased the tinfoil apart. The barrel of a gun caught the light and flashed menacingly.

“Yes!” Triumphant, Starsky punched the air. He rinsed his now-grimy gloves under the tap, dried them on a paper towel that he stuffed into his pocket, and then pushed a pen into the barrel to put the gun into an evidence bag. He folded the foil back into shape and put it in the oven again. A cursory inspection would show nothing.

He went to phone Grace.

“You okay, Grace?”

“I’m fine, and you sound fine, too. Actually, you sound elated.”

“I found it.”

“That’s great! Congratulations. Does that mean you’re coming back here now?”

“Not straight away, no. I have to take my find to the precinct, and I’d better get a hold of Captain Dobey. You go on home, honey. You’ve been a terrific help!”

“I told Officer Cameron I’d be here for another hour. Are you going to get in touch with them?”

“Yes. I don’t want Hutch to nail Kira alone.”

“Sounds intriguing,” Grace giggled.

“You got a one-track mind, woman.” Starsky laughed. “I’ll call you in forty minutes, okay? Just to make sure you got home safely.”

“You’d make a nice big brother, Dave,” Grace said. “I’ll talk to you later then. I know you’re raring to go.”

Starsky went through all the rooms again, making sure he had left no trace of his presence. Of course, if Kira happened to want that gun…but why would she? Even if she made it home again, which he was rather hoping to prevent. He’d have to make sure he’d be the one to go through those tapes, somehow…

One final look around, and then a quick check through the window. The road was quiet; the light rain seemed to have driven people indoors. Good.

Starsky pulled the door shut, and fished for the wire. A jerk, one prod, and another–the lock slipped back into place. He bent to make sure he hadn’t left scratch marks. Nothing.

The sense of euphoria seemed to heighten his perceptions, rather than make him careless, as it sometimes did. He made sure there was nobody watching him, and that he wasn’t followed when he pulled out into the road.

Starsky felt a little safer in the Torino, but still on edge. Strange. As if something else was due to happen.

He radioed dispatch and asked for a car-to-car transmission to Cameron and Lambert.

“Lambert, that you?”

“Cameron, actually.” She sounded amused, and Starsky grinned.

“How are you doing?”

“Freezing our butts off, Starsky. For no transparent reason, if you know what I’m saying.”

“I owe you. Can you stay in position until I sorted things out at the precinct?”

“I hear you’re bribing people these days, Officer. What are you offering us?”

“Name your price,” Starsky smiled. Right now, he’d give away diamonds, if he had them.

“Bottle of that scent, each?” Cameron said.

Starsky rolled his eyes. “You’re having me on.”

“No, of course not.”

“Yes, of course you are. Come off it, Cameron.”

“You’re a great cop. How did you figure that so quickly?”

“Easy,” Starsky laughed. “You guys would never wear the same perfume Jenny wears.”

“I’m impressed.” Cameron was silent for a moment. “Just get that killer for me, Starsky, and I’ll be here every night for the rest of the year.”

“Fair enough,” Starsky said, parking in front of Metro. “A month to go, Cameron.”

“I’d do it for longer, but somehow I don’t think your partner would appreciate a perpetual honor guard in front of his bedroom.”

Starsky chortled. “You have a point there. Look, I’m about to go into forensics, then the squad room.”

“We’ll find you if we need to keep you posted on further developments. Good hunting!”

“Thanks.” Starsky signed off, got out of the car and ran up the stairs.

——

It didn’t take very long to find out that Sheers’ fingerprints were on the gun, and on the bullets inside. And then there were other fingerprints on the gun itself. Kira’s fingerprints.

“Good work, Starsky,” Dobey said. He looked tired, Starsky thought. And a little depressed. “Phoned your partner yet?”

“I tried, but there was no answer.”

Dobey frowned. “What do you think is going on?”

“Probably asleep. I asked Cameron and Lambert to watch the place. They know where I am, they would have been in touch.”

“Hutch isn’t gonna like that,” Dobey smiled. “You don’t trust him to be careful?”

“Cute is more his style,” Starsky sighed. “I don’t really know why I did that. Just…a hunch I had.”

“Cops live on hunches,” Dobey replied. “Especially good cops. Half of our work is instinct.”

“Thanks. I’ll hide behind you if Hutch tries to throttle me.” Starsky grinned, aware he had been complimented.

“You won’t be able to do that for much longer, I’m on a diet.”

“Again?” Starsky shook his head. “Don’t you ever tire of dieting?”

“I do,” Dobey sighed, “But the police doctor doesn’t.”

“He’ll keep after you,” Starsky said. “He’s that kind of guy. Might be easier if you were to tire of eating.”

Grinning, he ducked the balled-up paper Dobey threw at him and checked his watch, for what seemed the umpteenth time that day. “I promised to phone Grace, excuse me a minute.”

There was no answer. Frowning, Starsky glanced at the clock. He dialled again, his own place. No reply.

“Maybe she’s still on the road?”

“Don’t think so, Captain. Not if she left when she said she would.”

“Give it another try in a couple of minutes. What are your plans now?”

“Basically, I wanted to tell Hutch to arrest Kira. I guess I’ll drop by after.”

“I’ll get you a warrant.” Dobey looked at his watch. “I should be able to catch Judge Winters.”

Something…something was irritating him. Knocking on the doors of his mind, begging to be let in. Starsky sat back in the chair, his eyes on the door, and tried to clear his mind, to make room for that new thought.

Dust. That refrigerator. The untidy kitchen. The messy bathroom. As if…

“Captain Dobey. About Kira’s apartment? The place might be a front.”

“I don’t get you, Starsky.”

“It’s untidy. I’ve been there before, it never looked that bad. I would’ve noticed.”

“You were infatuated with the woman. You sure you would have noticed?”

Starsky looked his Captain in the eye. “I didn’t care for Kira. That was about Hutch, not her.”

“That explains it.” Dobey nodded, but Starsky didn’t want to ask what he thought it explained. “What makes you believe it’s a front?”

“The only places fairly clean and tidy were the living room and the bedroom. As if that’s all visitors normally get to see. Even the bathroom is only clean on the surface.” Starsky hesitated, attempting to hold on to another elusive thought. “The place smelled stale, and felt…deserted. No newspaper, no magazines. No recent mail.”

“What else,” Dobey pressed.

“I didn’t find the wig. Kira wore a wig when she followed us on Tuesday. Not something you’d keep in the car, is it?”

Dobey shrugged, “How would I know?”

“No stuff hanging around. You know–you get in, you leave your jacket somewhere, or your shoes?”

“Not me,” Dobey grinned, “I’m married.”

Starsky almost said that so was he, but he managed to bite his lip instead. “She turned up at my place earlier on. She had changed, and today’s blouse wasn’t in the wardrobe, or the clothes hamper. Come to think of it, I didn’t see those impossible shoes, either.”

“The blouse might be at the dry-cleaners,” Dobey said, “You sure you’d recognise the shoes?”

Starsky grimaced, “Trust me. She needed a weapon’s permit for those heels.”

Dobey nodded. “You’ve always spotted things other people don’t. Let me grab the judge, and I’ll see what I can find out about a second address on Kira.”

“Do me a favor? Do some thinking for me?”

“I do that all the time, only you guys never notice,” Dobey chortled.

Starsky grinned in response, “That’s not what I meant, thank you.” He sobered. “When you said about the commish moving Kira from precinct to precinct–there’s something that about that which bugs me. Only, I can’t figure what. Something we overlooked?”

Dobey sighed. “Now you’ve got me worried. I’ll see whether I can come up with anything. You going to be here for a while?”

“Yes, I’ll try Grace again, and I want to finish my report before I leave. Might give Hutch another ring, too.”

“Let me know if anything turns,” Dobey said, “Otherwise I’ll catch up with you later.”

Starsky nodded, and dialed Grace’s phone-number again. No reply. He frowned at the phone in consternation. It wasn’t like Grace; she usually did what she said she would do. No answer from Hutch, either.

Starsky tried to ignore the hurt, and concentrated on his report. He had just finished when Captain Dobey came in again.

“The judge was surprised, he knows the commissioner, and said he played golf with Kira sometimes.”

“Expensive hobby for a cop,” Starsky commented. “What else did he say?”

“Kira does have a second apartment, somewhere in West LA.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Kira doesn’t make much more money than that secretary who tapped my office on the Mello case?”

“Yeah. I can’t afford two apartments, that’s for sure,” Starsky sighed. “Do we have an address?”

“No, but we’ll get it. The judge is going to quiz the commish.”

“Amateurs doing police work. Don’t like it,” Starsky muttered.

Dobey frowned. “Nor me, Starsky. But I can’t very well ask the commissioner myself.”

“No,” Starsky said, “I can see that. Let’s hope they don’t tip her off.”

Jenny ambled into the room. “There you are, Starsky. Got a message for you.” She held out a piece of paper with a scribbled note.

Starsky glanced at it, saw the time on the message and jumped up. “Damn you, Jenny! I should have had this fifteen minutes ago!”

“Sorry. I got a little busy.” Jenny shrugged.

Dobey frowned at her. “Get back to your desk, we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

Starsky picked up the receiver and punched the numbers urgently. “Get me Cameron or Lambert, right now!”

Captain Dobey grabbed another receiver to listen to the conversation.

“Starsky. Finally. We lost her.”

“What do you mean, you lost her?”

“I’m sorry, we got stuck on a red light, and a truck pulled in between. We didn’t see where she turned off. I realise that sounds lame, but…”

“Shit happens,” Starsky said. “Where are you?”

“Half way into West LA.”

“Right,” Starsky said. “Thanks, ladies. Back to base, I guess.”

“Thanks for nothing, huh, Starsky?” Cameron sounded annoyed, but Starsky was too worried about Hutch to figure out whether she was annoyed with herself or with him.

“Don’t come back here,” Dobey interjected. “Go to Starsky’s place and check on Grace.”

“10-4, Captain. We’ll be in touch.”

Starsky looked at Dobey, worry writhing in his stomach. “Why doesn’t Hutch answer the bloody phone? He wouldn’t have slept through her leaving?”

“You never know. If it was exciting enough, he might be socked out.”

No. However good it had been for Hutch, if he stirred, Hutch was awake. Or was that just because Hutch was so attuned to him?

Sighing, Starsky picked up the phone again and dialled for the hospital ward. “Detective Starsky speaking. Can you tell me how Sheers is doing, do we know what he was injected with?”

As he listened to the calm, slightly saddened voice on the other end, his stomach twisted and knotted.

“Captain. She injected Sheers with some slow poison. They’re still analyzing its components. Sheers is dead.” Starsky grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair; he was suddenly shivering. “I’m going to check on Hutch.”

“Wait, Starsky,” Dobey looked at him, a puzzled expression on his face. “Check on Grace’s apartment, I’ll send a black-and-white to Venice Place.”

Starsky shook his head, “Send them to Grace. I gotta see to my partner.”

Dashing down the stairs at haphazard speed, Starsky wondered whether Dobey had really just muttered ‘weird relationship’, and if he had–was he referring to his relationship with Hutch?

——

Flashing lights and howling sirens cleared the roads for him, and he fishtailed the car to a careless halt mere inches behind Hutch’s indigo Ford.

He jumped over the hood of the Torino in his hurry and ran up the stairs two and three at a time, but forced himself to stop on the landing. No good rushing in there. He drew his gun, and cocked it. The door swung open at his touch, and Starsky swallowed. Anybody who left somebody asleep would close the door properly, wouldn’t they?

The apartment was empty. Of course it was. Really, he had known that. He usually sensed Hutch’s presence, even if he couldn’t actually hear him breathe, or move.

Quickly, he searched the place. Nothing. No sign of a struggle, no blood stains.

Hutch had changed the sheets, and wet towels said he’d had a shower. Starsky didn’t check the clothes hamper, even though he was tempted.

Holster and gun were hanging up in the wardrobe.

Starsky secured his Beretta and put it away. Then he phoned Dobey to tell him of the new development.

“Where do you think he is, Starsky?” Dobey sounded weary.

“His gun is here. He didn’t leave out of his own free will.”

“I remember you once told me he’d not go see his mother without his gun. How about his girlfriend?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Very well.” He heard Dobey sigh. “Go check Grace’s apartment.”

“10-4.”

Starsky hung up and took a last look around, muttering to himself. “Damn, Hutch. She had already left; we were home dry. What happened? What did you think you were doing? Pulling one of your cute stunts again?”

Starsky raced the Torino to Grace’s new apartment, glad she had given him a key a few days ago. Quickly, he scanned the rooms. Tidy. Clean. Above all, empty. No sign of a fight, though. He found Karen’s number in the pad next to the phone. She said she hadn’t seen Grace since earlier this afternoon.

Starsky locked the door, left the building and sat in the car for a moment, resolutely quelling the threatening panic.

He reached for the radio. “Give me Captain Dobey, Jenny. Be quick.”

It was difficult keeping the animosity out of his voice. Maybe if that fool had given him the message marked ‘urgent’ immediately? No point thinking along those lines.

Starsky turned the key in the ignition, switched lights and siren back on and headed for Metro the fourth time that day. Without really concentrating, he listened to the chatter of messages on the radio. So much for being quick, he thought distractedly. Suddenly, the significance of the prattle hit home. If he could listen to other people’s traffic, they could tune in to his.

“Starsky, this is Dobey. I just spoke to Cameron…”

Starsky scratched his thumbnail across the microphone. “Sorry, Captain. Please repeat. I can hardly hear you.”

“Don’t give me that…Starsky? What’s going on?”

He tapped his fingers on the microphone, and then scratched again. “Sorry, Cap. Can’t pick up the signal. I’ll come to the station. Zebra Three over and out.”

——

Starsky went straight to Dobey’s office.

“What was all that about? There was nothing wrong with the radio.” Dobey sounded like he wanted to fume, but didn’t have the energy.

“There wasn’t. It had occurred to me that Kira could be listening in to our messages, and Jenny isn’t clever enough to spot it.”

“I might have to fire Jenny. She’s indiscreet, too.”

“I couldn’t care less, to be honest. What did Cameron have to say about Grace?”

“Grace isn’t in your apartment, but her jacket and purse are still there, and Cameron said they found her car outside, and the keys on the table.”

“She’s not at home, either.” Starsky had a feeling he knew who Hutch and Grace were with.

“Is there anywhere else she could be?”

“That’s not where she is.”

“How do you know?”

“I checked.”

A long pause. “I don’t like suggesting this, but…”

“Then don’t,” Starsky said sharply. He started to pace. “Hutch’s car is still parked outside Venice Place. You suggesting they eloped on foot?”

“Starsky…is there really no chance Hutch got together with Grace?”

“No.”

“You trust her?”

“I trust Hutch,” Starsky said, aware that he sounded icy. “And right now, I’d give my left arm to know they ran off together, and are safe. But I know they didn’t, and they aren’t.”

Dobey sighed. “Starsky. Think. How is Kira supposed to have abducted Hutch? He’s a better cop than she is, and he’s a guy. Tall, heavy and pretty fast.”

Starsky banged his fist against the door, frustration getting the better of him. “That’s exactly what Hutch said earlier on! And I told him he’s also fair, and decent, and Kira is not!”

“Don’t yell at me, Starsky.”

“Sorry, Captain.” Starsky tried to calm down, but it was difficult. “I don’t know how she did it. But Hutch is gone, and so is Kira.”

He didn’t like the sharp glance Dobey shot him. “And Grace.”

Starsky shrugged, and finally dropped into the chair Dobey kept pointing at. “Do we have that second address?”

“No,” Dobey shook his head, “But the judge said he’d be in touch. We have a few other results, though. The gun recovered from Sheers is the gun that Thompson and McLaine were killed with. The gun you found in Kira’s kitchen hasn’t been fired in forever. Still no information on Sheers’ blood tests.”

“Slow, aren’t they,” Starsky said, fear clawing at him. Had she used that stuff on Hutch? Sheers had been lethargic, but able to think straight, within his limits. Had she been aware of this, and would she have given Hutch a larger dosage, to be on the safe side? What effect would the drug have on Hutch? How much time did they have?

Dobey frowned at him. “They’re doing the best they can. You know what kind of workload this precinct has? And the labs?”

“Yeah,” Starsky muttered, “I know. Hutch and I are shifting some of it around here.”

“Quite a bit,” Dobey said, apparently mollified. “You didn’t seem surprised at the gun results.”

“I’m not. I expected those findings. I’ve been talking to Cameron about Kira. Her brother thought she was bad news, too. Mighty strange that all the folks who filed any sort of negative report on her ended up dead.”

“You’re alive.”

Starsky stared at Dobey. That was what they had overlooked before, wasn’t it?

The phone rang, preventing him from voicing the thought. Dobey picked up the receiver, and listened. He took a few notes, but didn’t say much, only grunted once or twice. It told Starsky that Dobey didn’t like what he was hearing.

Dobey put the receiver down, very gently. “Judge Winters says…he says that according to the commissioner, Kira asked to be returned to Metro.”

“I’m still alive. Hutch is …” No. He couldn’t even let himself think that.

“You reckon that’s the motive? She might have forgotten.”

“Right! She shot Ross just because he laughed at her, do you think she’d forget how much Hutch and I humiliated her?” Starsky jumped to his feet, too wired to remain seated. “There’s something else. When we were riding with her yesterday, she was talking about the shooting as if she had been there. Were you down there?”

Dobey gave him an odd look that Starsky found difficult to interpret. “Of course I was. I had heard the gunshots.”

“Do you remember whether Hutch said anything, or did anything peculiar?”

“Peculiar? No. I don’t remember.” It sounded uncomfortable.

Starsky sighed. Hutch would probably strangle him if he came out to Captain Dobey, of all people. What would it take to convince the man? “Look, Captain. We don’t have time for games here. I didn’t have a chance to talk about it with Hutch, and not much of a reason to, either. What did he say?”

“He said something about you better not dare die on him,” Dobey said calmly, not avoiding his eyes.

Damn, Starsky thought, I’ve given him too much time to think. “Okay. Kira said something like that. Did you see her there?”

Dobey frowned, and closed his eyes for a moment, evidently trying to picture the event. When he opened them again, he shook his head. “No. I don’t remember seeing her. But like most of us, I was focused on you. I’d have to check the report to see who the officers were that guarded the scene. They might have seen something.”

Starsky shrugged. “Not important, right now. I’m just trying to tell you she would not have forgotten. I don’t know why she does it, or what she hopes to achieve. Let’s arrest her, and she can answer those questions. Right now, I need to find out where she’s keeping my partner.”

“And Grace.”

“I haven’t forgotten about Grace, Captain. But I think Kira’s major plot is against Hutch.”

“Tell me why you think that, Starsky. I accept that Kira most probably kidnapped Hutch and Grace. But I wonder why she would do that? So far, she’s gotten away with murder. Why change her MO?”

“She’s a few ants short of a picnic, if you ask me,” Starsky shrugged, “When she turned up earlier, she said I should have ditched Hutch, and kept her.”

Another strange glance from Dobey, as though he were trying to read his mind.

“Old news, Captain,” Starsky said impatiently.

“What if–just if–Kira doesn’t have Hutch?”

“Then I’ll kick his ass some for scaring me silly here.”

“But you still won’t ditch Hutch?”

Starsky rolled his eyes. “No.”

“Very well. Here’s what we’ll do-”

——

Hutch woke with a blazing headache, in a room that was dark and too cool for comfort. He heard a muffled sound next to him, and the rustling of sheets. “Starsky,” he grumbled, “You snagged all the blankets again. Come here and get me warm. ‘s the least you can do.”

A chuckle answered him, too light to be Starsky. “Don’t you wish.”

“Yeah,” Hutch muttered. “Grace?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.”

“Yes.”

Blinking, Hutch tried to sit up, and found that he was handcuffed to the bed. “You okay?”

“Yes. How are you?”

“Headache,” Hutch replied, “And I’m tied up.”

“So am I. Can you think straight now?”

“I guess. Does that mean I couldn’t before?”

“When she dragged you in here, you were rambling about keeping the African violets entertained.”

“She?” Hutch asked, and then the memory washed over him like a tsunami. “Kira! Damn. Where is she, do you know?”

“She said she had errands to run, and she wants to set a trap for Dave.” Grace sounded uneasy.

“Not as easy as she thinks, my partner’s got more brains than she does.” Hutch chuckled self-deprecatorily.

“What’s funny, Hutch? I could use a laugh.”

“Just something that Starsky said. About me being bigger than Kira, and more decent. He didn’t say anything about my brains, and I guess he was right, huh?”

“He was worried about you.” It did sound as if Grace were smiling now.

“I know. He had somebody outside my place, watching. And I was arrogant enough to be annoyed about it.” Hutch tried to pull out of the handcuffs, but found he couldn’t.

“You saw them?”

“Yeah, noticed them pull out after Kira. How did she get you, Grace?”

“Way too easily,” Grace said, sounding disgusted, “I opened the door when she knocked–and Dave had warned me not to, I wish I’d listened!–and she had a gun pointed right at my face. I didn’t have a choice, got into her car, followed her up here and let her tie me to the bed. I figured as long as you and Dave were out there, there was still a chance of her being caught.”

“Were you in touch with Starsky? Did he leave her place again?”

“I suppose he must have done. He phoned and told me he found what you guys had been looking for.”

What a relief that was. “That’s good. He’ll keep at it then.”

“You saying he would have let off if he hadn’t found it?”

“Would’ve been difficult to convince Dobey to keep going, I guess. Even though Dobey was more inclined to believe him than I was, idiot that I can be.”

“Why didn’t you believe him? Not enough evidence?”

“The truth, Grace?”

“Up to you,” Grace chuckled, “I’d have a hard time telling the difference.”

“Pettiness. I didn’t want to believe him because I was ticked off. He…said something in connection with Kira that really got to me. I didn’t want him to be right again.”

Grace kept quiet. Hutch yanked at the headboard, but it didn’t budge.

“Don’t bother, Hutch. You didn’t see the place in the light. The joint is like a dungeon.”

“You mean–chains, and whips and stuff?”

“Yes,” Grace said, her voice level. Hutch could tell it took an effort to keep it that way.

“She’s into that sort of thing,” he replied. “On the receiving end. The bad little girl thing, you know?”

“I don’t know, but I can imagine. Nice to know she probably won’t be using that stuff on us, then. Why didn’t I follow my dad’s advice to become a beauty surgeon?”

“Because you see deeper than that, and you’re more interested in turning the ugliness of the mind into beauty.”

“Thanks, Hutch. Can you write that down for me?”

“I could, but I’m quoting Starsky.”

“Should’ve known,” Grace said softly.

“Yes. Always sees the light in people, Starsky does.”

“He once told me that’s because so much light’s coming from you, it reflects on the folks around him.”

“And he calls me a mushball,” Hutch realized he sounded choked. He cleared his throat self-consciously, and then asked, “Did Kira say anything on where this is going?”

“No,” Grace sighed, “Apart from making us look bad so that Starsky turns away from us.”

Hutch took a deep breath; suddenly wishing he had agreed to change their plan. If he were the one on the outside, he’d not have to feel so rotten now. Selfish again, Hutchinson, he chided with a sigh.

“Hutch? If you don’t mind telling me…how did she capture you?”

“I’m not quite clear on that,” Hutch admitted. “She turned up at my place as planned, and we had a glass of wine and were…fooling around a bit. When Starsky phoned I thought we were all set. But…What did Starsky tell you about Kira?”

“Well, I know you had a fight because of her. Dave said it straightened out his priorities, and that you managed to sort things out after.”

“Nothing else?” Hutch knew the surprise was evident in his voice.

“Should there have been anything else,” Grace asked, sounding puzzled.

“Kira was supposed to be Starsky’s girlfriend. I slept with her anyway. Starsky walked in on us,” Hutch explained. “I was supposed to make out with her last night, but things didn’t go according to plan. Kira left in a bit of a huff, and I…did a few things around the house. I felt bushed, but I thought I just lacked sleep. I’d just come out of the shower when she knocked on the door, and for whatever strange reason I assumed it had to be Starsky. I opened the door without even checking, and she sprayed something into my face. After that, things get blurry.”

“I got a bit of a look around,” Grace said. “You interested in a shrink’s opinion?”

“Absolutely, especially as I didn’t apparently get much chance forming my own.” It was difficult to ignore the headache, but talking kept his mind off it a little.

“There are drawings in the hallway, and paintings. Kira told me she did those. They’re like–color by numbers, you know that?”

“Yes, go on.”

“Well, the paintings are…odd. She didn’t give me much time to look closely, but I think I saw enough. She’s added her own bits. The colors are dark, and they clash. It indicates she’s into breaking rules, and on the violent side. But she’s fascinated with people like you and Dave, who seem to stick to conventions.”

“Wait–are you saying that if she found out we’re not doing that, she’ll lose interest?”

“Dangerous, Hutch. She may lose interest–or if she feels deceived she may get angry enough to destroy you. I’d not go for that angle unless you have no alternative.”

“Okay. What else can you tell me?”

“Well–this thing here. I was wondering how that fit in, but now you told me what she likes, it seems that she feels punishment is an acceptable part of what she does. It might be better to work with that.”

“Gives me something to think about,” Hutch sighed. “Any idea where we are?”

“Somewhere in West LA, in an apartment block. It seems pretty empty, though, the corridors were echoing, and we didn’t use an elevator. I guess the elevators aren’t working, because it would have been easier to get me up here unseen in one of them.”

“You’d make a good detective,” Hutch said. “Have you heard of that new branch the FBI is looking into? They call it…uh…profiling.”

“I’m good at observing,” Grace said. “I have to be, in my job. But I don’t think I want to spend so much time in criminal minds.”

“I see what you mean. What floor is this, would you know?”

“Twelfth.”

“And no elevators?” Hutch didn’t like to think of the logistics of evacuating one or two floors of the building, and getting a swat team up those stairs. And his pig-headed partner would be ahead of them, no doubt. The thought brought a smile to his lips. Starsky would turn up, that was as certain as sunrise. “Why is the place dark, what time is it?”

“I really have no idea. Can’t even guess at how long we’ve been here. Some time though, because I’m quite thirsty. The window panes have been painted black, I saw that when she brought me in.”

“Weird thing to do, but of course, up here, nobody would notice. I think she’s trying to confuse us about the length of time we’ve been here. Can you tell me how the room’s set up?”

“Um, yes, I guess I can. The bed is in the middle of the wall, and I’m on the right facing the door. You’re on the left, of course, and the windows are on your side. She’s got all sorts of–uh, toys, attached to the walls, and hanging from the ceiling. Other than that, the place is empty.”

There was the sound of a door shutting loudly, as if somebody had kicked it shut.

“She’s back,” Hutch whispered, “Try to let me do the talking.”

“Okay,” Grace agreed.

——

“How are my little chickens,” Kira sounded nauseatingly cheerful when she finally entered the room, after rummaging around in another part of the apartment for a while. “Getting bored without me?”

Hutch didn’t answer; he was blinking in the light she had turned on. Kira looked oddly different, but apart from the clothes he couldn’t quite figure out what had changed about her.

“Come, come, Hutch. I know you’re awake now. The sleeping draught wasn’t that strong. And Starsky’s pretty lady should be awake with worry.” Kira sniggered.

“What would Grace need to worry about?” Hutch knew Kira ought to be kept talking. He tried to figure out what might be in the bags she had brought in with her, hoping she hadn’t stacked up on sleeping potions or poisons.

“I told her I was going to get Starsky,” Kira smiled. “That should worry her, don’t you think?”

“You haven’t got Starsky,” Hutch said, praying that she didn’t.

“No,” Kira shook her head, “Not yet. He’s a bit more difficult to grab than you guys. More fun that way.”

“If you wanted Starsky, why bother with us?”

“Oh Hutch, you are so dense. I have to have you and her, to make it look like you did what you’ve done before.”

“And then what,” Hutch wondered aloud, feeling ice collect in the pit of his stomach.

“Then he’ll finally understand he’s better off with me,” Kira said, as if that should have been obvious.

“You want Starsky?” Hutch found that hard to believe.

“I’ve always wanted him,” Kira said with a pensive smile that sickened Hutch. “Didn’t you know?”

“No,” Hutch swallowed dryly, “I didn’t know.”

“Wait a sec, you guys must be thirsty. I’ve got something to drink for you. And something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Grace said immediately.

Kira laughed. The same icy laughter Hutch had heard on the phone on Tuesday morning. He had to suppress a shudder.

“Don’t be like that, Grace. I have ways of forcing it down your throat, you know. But you don’t have to worry about poison. I have to look after you, so that Starsky will think you just had a lot of fun together.”

“What if he doesn’t believe you?”

“He will believe me, honey. What happened before can happen again. He told me he doesn’t know whether Hutch has changed.”

Surely, she must have misunderstood Starsky? He had to know. “When did he say that?”

“The evening I met Grace,” Kira smiled. “Whenever that was.”

Starsky knew better than that, didn’t he? Then Hutch realized that Starsky had been trying to direct Kira toward him, just as they had planned. So Kira had no idea what Starsky really thought. Did she?

“He won’t believe it about me,” Grace said with finality. Hutch kept his face impassive.

Kira shrugged. “Trust me, honey. I know all about boys. If he believes it about Hutch, he’ll believe it about you. And I’ll make him swallow it, hook, line and sinker, as they say. Did you know about Hutch getting the girls off Starsky all the time?”

Grace shook her head.

“Well, there was Abby. She was supposed to go out with Starsky, but Hutch fancied her. So he dragged her off. And a few other girls. Me. Don’t think you’re so special.”

Hearing the sudden hostility in her voice, Hutch nudged Grace. Grace shot him a quick glance and gave a slight nod.

Humming, Kira opened a soda can and pushed a straw into it. “Ladies first,” she said, holding it to Grace’s lips. Grace hesitated, and Kira frowned. “Go on. In another couple of hours you’ll be so thirsty you’ll beg me for a drink.”

Grace obviously realized the truth of the statement, because she opened her lips and took a couple of mouthfuls.

Hutch was rather grateful for the cool liquid, wondering whether his abnormal thirst was the result of the wine.

Kira smiled at him, “Sorry about that dry throat, it’s a side-effect of the sleeping powder. I had been a little worried you’d notice me putting it into your glass, you know.”

Hutch wondered what had distracted him, and realized it must have been when Starsky phoned. That was something he needed to keep from Starsky, who seemed to have caught the guilt-trip-bug from him recently.

“I still don’t understand why you go to all this trouble,” Hutch said, trying to sound more puzzled than he felt. “If you had played it straight with Starsky, he might have decided to give it another shot.”

Kira shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. You can see how much he’s in love. Grace was lucky there. Didn’t you see his smile when he told Minnie he’s perfectly happy? The way his eyes lit when he said he was seeing somebody? I knew immediately that the only way I can have him is if he gets disappointed by her.”

Hutch sighed. Starsky had been right–this was one snake you didn’t ward off with rabbits. “What makes you think he’s just gonna walk in here, Kira? With Grace and me missing, don’t you think he’s going to be a little careful?”

Kira laughed. “I went to the precinct earlier. That Jenny? She’s so wonderfully dumb. I wore a dark wig, and she didn’t recognize me! I left a message for Starsky, saying I was your girl. He’ll be here, don’t you worry.”

“What kind of message?” Hutch belatedly realized that Kira had worked on her make-up, wearing more and darker colors, probably to suit the brunette wig.

“Oh, I’m not telling you that. You might find out before you die, or maybe not. Depends on how fast things move. If I have to shoot you quickly, I won’t have time to tell you.”

“Why shoot us?” Grace asked, and Hutch thought she sounded frightened for the first time since he had woken up.

Kira rolled her eyes. “Dummy. If I don’t kill you, you’ll tell Starsky it was a ruse. He’d never forgive me.”

Hutch decided to go out on a limb. “Why would Starsky believe I took Grace to a place that belongs to you?”

“Look, Hutch. I know you think I’m brainless. Maybe I’m not a good cop, but I’m a pretty good con, I tell you. I’ve done this before. The place doesn’t belong to me. There’s nothing to connect me to it. It just so happens that I saw your car outside and decided to check up on you, because silly Jenny told me that everybody was looking for Starsky’s girlfriend. Unfortunately, I’ll have to shoot you because you will attack me. You don’t want Starsky to find out about this, you see, not after you just managed to patch things up with him.”

Everybody was looking for Grace? Was it likely that Starsky hadn’t even begun to look for him yet? What day was it? It didn’t feel like a lot of time had passed. Well, he had said to Starsky he’d see him in the morning, hadn’t he. Would Starsky put up with that? Hutch almost groaned. Come on, partner, he begged silently, be jealous. Check up on me.

“You’ve done this before? Why?”

Kira looked at Grace critically. “Going by your clothes and your car, you don’t need much money, do you?”

Grace shook her head. “But you do?”

“I need a lot of money. I need to pay snitches. I need to pay people to protect me. I’ve got a judge in my pocket, bet you didn’t know that, Hutch?”

A judge? Who? What did Kira have to offer to a judge?

Kira smiled, a simpering smile. “Judges are into punishing people, Hutch. But caning little girls can be a dangerous hobby. Little girls grow up, and demand compensation.”

Hutch couldn’t believe he had actually gone to bed with her, and walked away alive. Moreover, walked away with his partner still by his side. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t given in to his desire to hit Kira until she was black and blue, even though there had been a few hours–before Starsky phoned that day–when he had sorely regretted not using his opportunity. But he had been all too aware that really, he wanted to hit himself.

“Maybe I’ll let Starsky have that tape,” Kira said.

“Tape? What tape?”

“Remember that day you turned up at my place, asking me whether I love Starsky? I have the entire conversation on tape. All of it. Maybe I’ll do a little editing?”

Blackmail. So that’s how Kira made the additional money that paid for her fancy clothes, and the expensive jewellery. Living with Vanessa had taught him a bit about trinkets, and he knew that was Kira wore was costly, even if it looked unpretentious.

Desperately, Hutch tried to remember what they had said to each other. No point, really, because if Kira wanted to edit their conversation…

“You really want to hurt Starsky that much?” Hutch needed to know, but thought she’s probably not answer his question. “Why?”

Kira surprised him by answering willingly. “I don’t want to hurt him. It would all be so much easier if he could just fall back in love with me.”

“He’s in love now,” Grace said, “Do you really think he’s going to get over that so quickly?”

Kira regarded her thoughtfully. “That’s the problem. First he needs to get over you, and then he needs to get over Hutch.”

“Hutch?” Grace echoed, managing to sound disbelieving. Hutch suddenly wondered how much acting skill a shrink’s job required.

“Of course,” Kira said impatiently. “He knows Hutch is in love with him. So doing away with you isn’t enough, Hutch has to go as well, otherwise he might just turn to him.”

“To Hutch?” Grace said dubiously.

“You don’t know him at all,” Kira smiled triumphantly. “Starsky will really be happier with me. I know him so well!”

In his heart, Hutch heard Starsky’s cool voice telling him he had lied about being in love with Kira, and he knew that Kira didn’t know Starsky at all.

“You see, Grace–Starsky is sweet, and he’s generous. If something happened to you, he’d turn to Hutch. I made a mistake, you know–I told him what Hutch said when he was shot.”

“How do you know what Hutch said?” Grace asked skeptically.

Kira rolled her eyes again. “I was there. I had heard somebody was planning a raid on Metro, and I thought I could maybe pick up something useful, or give somebody a helping hand.”

From the way she said it, Hutch understood that Kira would have given the crooks a helping hand. He felt chilly, and knew it had nothing to do with the room temperature.

“When I saw they had shot Starsky, I was too mad to help them. So I hung around and watched. And listened. And Hutch kept saying for Starsky not to die, because he loves him. Now, I told Starsky what Hutch said.”

Grace scooted away from Hutch, as much as the handcuffs would allow. “I don’t want to be near this guy,” she said, the anger in her voice almost convincing Hutch, who knew better.

Kira grinned. “Sorry, Grace. You’ll have to put up with it. Shifting dead bodies is a nuisance; I don’t want to drag you around any more than I have to. Besides, I have to be quick, so that I can arrange your corpses while they’re still warm. It’d be difficult getting stiffs into the position I have in mind for you.”

“Dave would never want that kind of relationship with Hutch,” Grace claimed. Hutch was astounded that she managed to disregard all the talk about their death with apparent ease.

“Not normally,” Kira said, “Because he’s decent. But he’s fond of Hutch, and I think he’d feel sorry enough for him to go for it, especially if he had nobody else in his life at the time.”

For a split second, Kira’s twisted mind almost convinced Hutch that Starsky really only felt pity for him. Then he remembered the feel of gentle thumbs brushing the corners of his mouth, and the warmth and joy in Starsky’s eyes and the conviction in his voice when he told him he loved him, and he knew again that what they had was real.

“Well,” Kira got to her feet, “I think we’ll have more time to chat later. I did enough shopping to last us a week, but I still have to pick up Hutch’s car, and I guess I’d better try and find out whether Grace has been found yet.” She giggled at her own joke.

Humming, she turned the light off and left the room. The front door closed with a bang, and they waited for a long time, until they were sure Kira was gone.

——

“Are you annoyed with me, for barging in?” Grace finally broke the silence.

Hutch shook his head, and then remembered she couldn’t see that. “No, I’m not. You did pretty well, actually. I’m sorry you’re scared.”

“I’m scared all right, but not as scared as I tried to sound. She’s twisted, you know that?”

“Yes,” Hutch mumbled, “I think Starsky would say she’s rowing with only one oar.”

“I can’t believe she picked up all those clues, and yet drew the wrong conclusions.”

“That’s because she’s too warped to understand.”

“Dave won’t fall for her ploy, unless she’s really clever. Shame we don’t know what message she left for him.”

“We know,” Hutch said, “Didn’t you recognize the tune she’s been humming?”

“No,” Grace said, “What was it?”

“Song by the Real Thing, it’s called ‘Keep an Eye on Your Best Friend.’ I didn’t know she could read notes.”

“She can’t. I expect she had somebody write down the notes for her. I don’t know the song. You want to tell me?”

Hutch sighed. “You already know all the embarrassing details. Just do me a favor, and don’t tell Starsky of your opinion of me. He might find he agrees with you.”

“I don’t think Dave will change his opinion now. Even Kira could see how much he’s in love with you, and she can’t decipher emotions very well,” Grace chuckled, “As for my opinion of you–when we first met, you told me you were a heel. It doesn’t get worse than that.”

“Thanks, that’s encouraging,” Hutch said, but found he couldn’t smile. “The text goes something like this, ‘Your best friend sold you down the river, and you found out he was a taker, not a giver. The one you love really made your heart shiver, she just upped and left you, and you find he was with her. There’s a moral to the tale, you have to keep an eye on your best friend.'”

After a long moment of silence, Grace said, “I’m sorry, Hutch.”

Baffled, Hutch asked, “What about?”

“A moment of weakness coming back to haunt you like that.”

“It was more like a year of weaknesses,” Hutch admitted, “And I deserve to pay the price. But you don’t.”

“Dave doesn’t,” Grace said quietly. “Do you think he’ll find us?”

“Yes.” Hutch was convinced Starsky would find them. They could only hope he’d be in time.

“Do you really think we’ll be here for a week?”

Hutch hesitated. It would be difficult for Kira to keep them for longer than a day or two. And she obviously didn’t want to give them drugs, because she knew their bodies would be examined, and with drugs in their blood, it was unlikely Starsky would believe her story.

“Too dangerous to keep us that long, isn’t it?” Grace ventured.

“Yes,” Hutch said, “But I know my partner. Trust Starsky.”

Grace sighed. “Is that the lover talking, or the cop?”

Hutch was about to bristle when he recalled asking Starsky a very similar question, right in front of Ross. “Both,” he said honestly, “It’s difficult to differentiate.”

“Did she tell you anything new, Hutch?”

“A few things. I had guessed she must have been there when Starsky was shot, but I couldn’t be sure. I wonder why she didn’t go for…” Hutch broke off, wondering–not for the first time–why Starsky had suggested a ménage á trois in the first place. Another question he didn’t know how to ask.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Grace sounded listless.

“No,” Hutch replied. “Try to get some sleep, we might need it.”

Grace snorted. “To sleep, perchance to dream? No, thanks. I’d rather stay awake. You go ahead and take a nap, if you can.”

“I had enough sleep for now,” Hutch said, “I need to think.”

“Why not just tell me to keep my mouth shut and not bother you?” Grace sounded exasperated. “I can do that, you know.”

“Sorry, Grace.” Hutch sighed. “I’m frustrated. Right now, I’m not of much use to Starsky, or you.”

“I don’t think Dave will think of it like that.”

“No. He’ll be furious, and tell me it’s another agreement I arbitrarily ignored.” Hutch sighed again. Then again, seeing Starsky, even ablaze with fury…

“What agreement is that?”

“To be careful. He’ll have something to say about that.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if he walked in here now?”

“Yeah,” Hutch muttered, “Even if he were mad at me.” He imagined the arrogant-looking swagger, the angry expression in those stunning sapphire eyes and the caustic comments, and unaccountably felt better.

They fell silent, and eventually-as there was nothing better to do-slept for a while.

——

They heard what had to be the front door slam, and Kira singing ‘Release Me.’ Both of them groaned when they recognized the song.

“She deserves to go to prison for that alone,” Hutch grumbled. “That’s sick.”

Grace giggled. “Haven’t we got anything suitable to hum back at her?”

“‘Jailhouse Rock’ comes to mind,” Hutch said grimly.

Kira banged the door open and switched the light on. “You slept enough for one day, guys,” she said loudly.

Enough for one day-did she count daylight hours, or twenty-four hours? Either way, it was longer than he had expected to stay alive. Hutch thought Kira sounded angry, and felt discomfort. There was no telling what she might do. Mad and angry was always a bad combination.

Kira regarded them from narrowed eyes, and Hutch became aware that Grace had nestled against him in search for warmth. “Cute, considering you didn’t want to be near him when we spoke last.”

“I also don’t want to freeze,” Grace said coolly.

Kira shrugged, “The heating doesn’t work. I guess I can find a blanket if it’s that bad.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Grace replied. “How’s Dave doing?” She asked for his sake as much as for her own, Hutch knew.

Frowning, Kira said, “The fool is making himself sick. I’m gonna have to give him a clue soon. Minnie said he hasn’t slept in…since you’ve been here. And he doesn’t seem to eat much, either. I just hope that Sharon doesn’t become too concerned about him, I don’t want him to fall for her next.”

Hutch traded a worried look with Grace. How long had they been here? Was Kira going to work, pretending everything was normal, impeding Starsky’s search for them?

“I take it Grace hasn’t been found?” Hutch said scathingly, hoping to draw Kira into a longer conversation. Maybe he could find out a little more.

“No,” Kira grinned, “But everybody I talked to thinks you pair ran off together. The guys at the precinct feel terribly sorry for Starsky, poor baby. And they all hate you, Hutch.”

Hutch found he didn’t really care. All he cared about was what Starsky was thinking and feeling.

“I guess Dave hates me by now,” Grace said, managing to sound miserable. If you had to be somebody’s hostage, a level-headed lady like she was definitely a bonus, Hutch thought.

“He told me he’s gonna kick Hutch’s ass some,” Kira sounded amused. “And he said he wants to strangle you for making out with his partner. I expected that, because that’s how he reacted when I slept with Hutch. So you see, everything is going the way I planned it.”

“Great,” Grace said crossly. “They stopped looking for us now, have they?”

Kira nodded and went to sit on the windowsill. It looked like she was getting ready to chat for a while. “Just as I anticipated. Starsky says he’ll find you, though. But he’s the only one searching for you, and he’s not thinking rescue, he’s thinking murder.”

Grace looked at Kira steadily, and Kira looked back. Hutch wondered what each saw, but sensed it would not be put into words, even if he were foolish enough to ask either woman such a personal question.

He knew that Grace was trying to do what he had wanted-establish some sort of contact with Kira, creating a bond that Kira might have even the tiniest compunction to break. Find a way to reaffirm their humanity and the things they had in common with her, so that maybe-just maybe-Kira would hesitate to kill them.

“Why David Starsky in particular?” Grace asked, her tone remarkably neutral. “You are a pretty woman, surely most men would want you.”

“Most men do,” Kira shrugged, “That’s why it has to be Starsky. He didn’t want me.”

Grace frowned, but Hutch recalled what Starsky had said about not being interested. Had he ever guessed that his indifference had sparked Kira’s curiosity? Probably not, Hutch reflected-Starsky’s mind had been on him, not on her.

“I don’t get it,” Grace said, “Why go for a guy who…”

“You misunderstand,” Kira said rudely. “Have you slept with him?”

Grace hesitated for but a split second, and Hutch hoped fervently that she’d give the right answer. “No,” she finally said softly, “He never tried.”

“But you wanted to, right?” Kira said challengingly.

Grace seemed to think for a moment, and Hutch imagined she was probably analyzing Kira, and trying to presage her reaction. “I wouldn’t have said no.”

Hutch speculated how much of that was the truth. Would Grace really…? She had said more than once that she considered Starsky attractive…but then again, a whole lot of women seemed to think so.

“Then you ought to get the picture,” Kira said. “He was in love with me, but he didn’t want to go to bed with me. At first, I suspected that he was closer to Hutch than he let on. But then…I mean, I knew what he felt.”

Grace nodded encouragingly. “Of course you did. It just…shines…from him, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, it does,” Kira beamed at her, “I actually once said to him that he was so filled with love, it just lit the entire room.”

Hutch would have liked to think Starsky had been in love with him even then, but if he had, he certainly hadn’t known it. So what was it that had been radiating from Starsky? Maybe it had been simply the determination to save their friendship? Hutch suppressed a shudder when he saw how dangerously close he had come to blowing it all.

“I know what you mean,” Grace said gently.

Kira smiled, and it made her look very pretty. Incongruously appealing, Hutch pondered.

“You know,” she sounded eager, “I couldn’t believe it. Ever since I was fourteen or so, guys just wanted me in their bed. Starsky…Dave took me dancing, and we went for meals, and to an exhibition and a concert-and all the time, I thought he’d want to collect eventually. But he never did. He’s…a gentleman.”

“Yes,” Grace agreed.

It sounded as if Kira had had the time of her life going out with Starsky. It was a funny thought that Starsky had probably been either bored out of his mind, or too preoccupied to pay close attention to the person he was with.

Kira went on as if she hadn’t heard what Grace said. “We were talking one day, and he said all that stuff about not being possessive.”

Hutch smiled to himself. He knew better. Starsky was possessive. Very much so. He summoned up that fateful conversation in Starsky’s kitchen-had Starsky been jealous of him, even then? Had he misinterpreted the situation so completely?

“And how you walk into life alone, and back out alone,” Kira continued and frowned at Hutch. “I expect he has experienced that now, hasn’t he?”

Not for the first time, Hutch speculated what would have happened if he had been late-would Starsky’s heart have started up again without his presence? He knew that somehow, both of them doubted that. It might be overly romantic, but he believed Huggy, who had been adamant on the fact that Starsky’s heart had begun to beat the moment Hutch had burst through that door into the corridor leading to Starsky’s room. Did that mean that Starsky would stay alive as long as he wasn’t left alone?

Hutch sighed. “I don’t know what Starsky knows now. I never wanted to ask.”

“Afraid of what he might tell you, dear Hutch?” Kira glared at him. “He also told me you can’t expect too much, and that you have to take things as they come. I guess that’s why he put up with you, is it?”

“You mean, all that jazz about not taking life too seriously?” Hutch knew that Starsky had told most of his ladies that, for whatever reason always careful not to get too close to any of them. Terri had been an exception. Terri had known-almost as well as Hutch did-about the things Starsky took seriously.

“I’m aware how he feels about his job, how important that is to him,” Kira said. “But it will all change when his first child is born. He might decide to be a little more careful. And of course, I know a few people who can look after him.”

Hutch tried to imagine Starsky’s face if he could hear this conversation, and had to swallow a chortle. “Whom of importance do you know, Detective Second Class?”

“Be careful with that sharp tongue of yours, dear Hutch, or I might decide you’re not worth wasting liquid on. I don’t think they can tell in forensics whether you were thirsty when you died?” Kira grinned maliciously. “Anyway, if you had listened to me…I told you I have a judge in my pocket. And the commissioner is my uncle. Starsky will rise through the ranks very quickly if that’s what I want.”

Did she really think Starsky would let her run his life? Had she so utterly failed to see the kind of man he was?

“We’ll be comfortable, too,” Kira smiled. “I got a few favors to collect.”

Oh yeah, Starsky would really relish living on the money from her…exploits.

“All that,” Grace said bitterly, “If he should fall for your little trick. What if he didn’t?”

“It can’t fail,” Kira said. “I know Dave. And I’ve done something like this before. Men are predictable, don’t you know that?”

And women weren’t? Was Starsky right? ‘The female of the species is more deadly than the male’-who had said that, Kipling?

“Really? You’ve done this before?” Grace came up with just the right mixture of horrified disbelief and admiration, Hutch realized. Kira would fall for it, he was certain.

“Yes,” Kira smirked. “Followed the Marcus Avery case in the papers, have you?”

Grace nodded, her eyes wide. Hutch took a deep breath. Damn, he needed to get out of here. The files on that were still open. Starsky had been in the early stages of recovery, but they had followed the investigations closely. Because of the brutality of the murders, everybody had been convinced the culprit was a man.

“You didn’t kill them here,” Hutch said. He had seen the photos of the crime scene, so he was positive this was not the room where Jean Avery and Robert Keeling had died. However, he wanted to reassure Grace.

“No,” Kira said. “I have a few places to chose from.”

How many murders would they be able to clear up if only they could arrest and question Kira? Next time, he’d believe his partner.

“Poor Marcus,” Kira sneered. “His best friend going to bed with the wife, and robbing him of his money, too.”

“What made you do that?” Grace sounded interested, but Hutch discerned a clinical detachment behind the question.

“Avery,” Kira spat. “Promised me the moon. Like any lawyer, he tried to talk himself out of it afterwards. I wanted him to see what it’s like when you can’t believe a word people say. Took me forever to set it up, slipping him innocent bits of information about his wife-which didn’t look quite so innocent when you’re of a suspicious turn of mind.”

“Didn’t his friend…”

“His friend tried to talk sensibly. First to Avery, then to me.” Kira laughed. “He honestly didn’t know where all that money had gone. Somebody I know at a bank had helped me siphon it off the company account. Didn’t do him any good with Avery. Avery had seen pictures, of Keeling meeting with his wife Jean. He had no idea that the poor bitch needed a shoulder to cry on, after I told her what really turned her husband on.”

“Keeling tried to reason with me, offered me money and heaven-knows-what for his life.” Kira shrugged, “It’s rather refreshing you guys don’t make that kind of fuss, it really gets on my nerves after a while. I could have done with the money at the time, but I needed Keeling to set up Avery. Did the same thing I will do with you-baited Avery to come to the place I had chosen, and then let him find the bodies. In an…ah, shall we say, interesting setting?”

“Dave knows full well I’m not interested in…interesting settings,” Grace said with enough anguish in her voice to be credible. “And I guess he’d know it if Hutch were into that sort of thing. What makes you think you can convince him?”

Kira grinned. “When he sees you and Hutch dead, he’ll be so shocked he’ll believe anything I tell him. Afterward, I’ll make sure I’m around to melt away the doubts.”

Grace shuddered, and Kira got up from her perch on the ledge.

“I’ll go find that blanket, and get you something to eat and drink. Can’t let you shower, I’m afraid…but a bit of honest sweat might add some reality to the scene, what do you think?”

Humming under her breath, Kira left the room, and came back moments later with a blanket. She tossed it over them carelessly, but Hutch knew that they’d be a little more comfortable now. She left again, and they could hear the clatter of dishes somewhere.

“She’s crazy,” Grace murmured.

“Yes,” Hutch agreed quietly. “But Starsky is being clever. Wonderful idea to string her along like that.”

“I’m hungry. You think we should eat the food she’s preparing?”

“I’m not sure,” Hutch sighed. “Ordinarily, I’d assume I can see it in somebody’s face whether they have anything planned. But she’s been leading a double life for years, I’m not sure whether she’ll give herself away.”

“If we’re lucky, she’ll be overconfident. Or maybe won’t bother to watch herself. She thinks we’re dead already.”

“I was hoping you hadn’t spotted that.”

“I suspected it before she told us all about the Avery case,” Grace said, “If only we could get a hand free.”

Hutch shook his head. “Don’t try anything, Grace. You’re no match for her, unless you went to the self-defence lessons Starsky suggested you take?”

“Wish I had,” Grace muttered. “Never had the time. After this, I’ll find the time, I promise.”

Hutch smiled. Nice to see how much confidence Grace had in Starsky.

“Wouldn’t it help you to get a look around?”

“I don’t know until I get that look,” Hutch said. He had surreptitiously been eyeing the various accoutrements hanging from the ceiling, but he didn’t see how any of those things could help him. Kira wouldn’t be careless enough to let him make a grab for anything.

Kira sauntered back into the room and looked at them speculatively. “I guess I ought to let you go to the toilet,” she said. “You gonna try anything funny if I let you go, Grace?”

Grace shook her head, looking relieved.

“Okay then,” Kira decided, “I don’t want to have to clean up after you.”

She drew her gun and retrieved the key to their handcuffs from her pocket. “Grace first. Make a wrong move and I’ll make you watch me blow Hutch’s brains out.”

Hutch saw Grace swallow. She gave him a nervous look as Kira was unlocking her cuffs, and Hutch shook his head warningly.

They vanished for a few minutes, and when they came back Hutch noticed that Grace had apparently been allowed to straighten her clothes and wash her face.

“Try anything funny and I’ll ram a knife through the lady’s stomach,” Kira cautioned him. “And don’t think I’m not capable of it.”

“I think I know what you’re capable of,” Hutch said darkly.

He let her cuff him again, and felt the muzzle of a gun in the back of his neck. He heard Starsky telling him he wanted him uncomfortable, and cursed his complacency. Now he was uncomfortable all right.

The short trip to the bathroom was of little use. He did get a look at the paintings Grace had mentioned, and now understood fully what she had meant.

The bathroom was empty, and as Kira had cuffed his hands on his back, there was nothing he could have done anyway. His teeth gritted, he suffered the indignity of Kira helping him, her business-like attitude making it abundantly clear that this wasn’t a first for her.

“Can’t let you tidy up,” she informed him, directing him back to the bed, “I could deck Grace, but you’re too difficult to handle. And I don’t want them to find any drugs in your blood. Starsky must think that you did it with Grace, fully aware of what you were doing to him.”

“So nice of you, Kira. I’m sure Starsky will appreciate all you’re doing for him,” Hutch said irately, not surprised when she slapped his face.

“You better be nice to me, Hutch,” she hissed, “Or I’ll feed Grace and forget to give you something.”

Hutch decided she must have heard his stomach growling. How long ago was that pizza he had grabbed with Starsky before they went to Huggy’s?

“Anything?” Grace asked eagerly when Kira had left the room to collect their food.

Hutch shook his head, frustration mounting. “Let’s hope the cavalry get here soon. I think we can eat the food, though.”

“That’s something,” Grace sighed. “I could do with another drink, too.”

Kira spooned some broth into them, explaining that at least she wouldn’t have to bother to wait for them to chew.

“Sorry we’re such an inconvenience to you,” Hutch growled.

Kira shrugged. “Can’t be helped, and it won’t be for long, anyway. Shooting people sort of makes up for the trouble.”

Hutch had the chilling feeling she meant exactly what she said.

When they had finished eating, Kira checked their cuffs again. “Sorry, but you’ll be alone for a while. I haven’t managed to pick up Hutch’s car yet; I had to wait for the cops to clear out. Captain Dobey told Starsky he doesn’t see the point in watching empty apartments, so they should be gone by now. Hope you won’t get bored!”

Surely Dobey wouldn’t have mounted guards on their apartments for longer than a day? How long before Starsky found out the car was gone and began to look for it?

“Hutch-how long do you think we’ve been here?”

Hutch shrugged, and immediately regretted it. Shrugging was not a good idea when your wrists were tied above your head. “I think she achieved her goal. The intervals when we’re alone, the darkened room-I don’t think we’ve been here for as long as she wants us to think. Maybe a day. My arms would have hurt worse if we had been tied up for that long. I still have feeling in my fingers.  And we would’ve needed the bathroom sooner.”

“Really? Not longer? But would your colleagues have given up so soon?”

“No,” Hutch grinned. “I’m sure Starsky knows damn well who kidnapped us. I think Metro is very busy trying to figure out how many hide-outs Kira has.”

“How come she believes him? She can’t be that stupid, surely?”

“Starsky is a damn good actor,” Hutch said. “And we’ve been undercover often enough–it’s second nature to dupe folks when the need arises. Kira is so busy trying to be clever that she has no time to think.”

“That lawyer fell for it,” Grace said. Hutch thought it sounded reluctant.

“Starsky was on full alert from the moment he saw Kira at the precinct,” Hutch said. “I wish I had taken a page out of his book. He’s not going to fall for any of her schemes.”

“She did say he was more difficult to grab,” Grace acknowledged.

Hutch snorted. “I’d be grateful if you didn’t repeat that to him. I’m never gonna hear the last of this as it is.”

“If he gets us out of here, he can go on at me until I’m blue in the face,” Grace said.

“I don’t want to burst your bubble, Grace-but somehow, I’d have expected you to be a bit more worried.”

“Less composed, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“I’m shivering in my shoes here, Hutch. But I don’t think Kira would care, and you’ve got other things on your mind. I’ll probably have a fit if and when we get free. You are worried too, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Hutch muttered, “I’m worried about how that nut-case will react to my partner when he turns up.”

“Either with a hug or with a bullet,” Grace said levelly.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

——

They couldn’t tell for how long they had huddled under the blanket together, even though Kira had left the light on this time. They were becoming more and more uncomfortable. Hutch felt his arms fall asleep.

“How are you doing, Grace?”

“It’s cold in here, isn’t it? Or is that my frayed nerves?”

“No, it’s cold all right. Feels as though the entire building has no heating,” Hutch replied. “Did you see anybody when she brought you in?”

“I didn’t, and I guess I was too anxious to hear whether there was anybody around. And I didn’t think there was any point in screaming, she might have shot me straight away. Why do you ask?”

“I’m wondering whether we’re alone in the house,” Hutch said, and thought that it would facilitate matters for Starsky if they were.

“If that’s true, I hope she doesn’t just set fire to the place.”

“That’s a cute idea, woman,” Hutch said.

Grace sighed. “They’d never search an empty building, would they? I mean, they’d just fight the fire, and hope for the best, right?”

“They’d search the ground-floor for tramps,” Hutch replied. “But Kira can’t afford to draw attention to what she’s doing. She’d get away with it if she pleaded self-defense maybe, but arson is out of the question.”

“How did she get out of the Avery case? Didn’t Marcus go to the cops?”

“I guess he didn’t have the inclination. He thought his wife and best friend were cheating on him,” Hutch swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, “And when he went to the bank he was told their law-firm was bankrupt. So far, we only knew that he somehow traced Jean and Robert, and now Kira says she lured him to the scene. Maybe Avery bought her claim that she had to shoot them because they threatened her. Maybe she blackmailed him, she certainly seemed to know enough about him to make that feasible. Either way, he left the scene and committed suicide in his office.”

“But I thought…”

“Yeah, that’s what the police thought. That’s why it said so in the papers,” Hutch said, “But Starsky and I figured straight away that it was a little odd the guy should go broke, and at the same time his wife and business-partner are murdered. Only, the connection couldn’t be found.”

“You’ll have your work cut out for you, won’t you?”

“I can see our Christmas holiday going down the drain,” Hutch sighed. “Grilling Kira is going to take weeks.”

“Admit it,” Grace chuckled, “You’re going to enjoy that.”

“No, we’re not. We love chasing the bad guys, and we love booking them. After that, there’s so much red tape that we could scream.”

“You were very patient on the Gunther case, though, weren’t you?”

“Oh yes,” Hutch grinned at the memory, “And I did it all by the book. But that was personal. As close as I could get to blowing the guy away.”

“Did you really feel that vengeful?”

Hutch frowned and tried to recall the emotions. “There was one thing that kept me from shooting Gunther. Starsky. Did he ever tell you about Prudholm?”

“Some.”

“Twice, he had a chance to kill the guy. The first time, I was there, and I was begging him not to throw it all away because of a scumball like Prudholm. But I think he had already decided before I even said his name. The second time, he was alone with Prudholm. And he told me he knew I would have backed him up if he had claimed self-defense. Dobey would have let him get away with it, because Starsky was in so much pain. And everybody in the department felt that a bullet to Prudholm’s head would have been a blessing for society. Somehow, Starsky had the strength and the integrity to be the law, and not the judge.”

“I didn’t know,” Grace whispered.

“I wanted to kill. If you had seen Starsky…curled against the Torino, blood everywhere…I wanted revenge. Blood for his blood, pain for his pain, you know? But every time I came close, I saw Starsky’s face when he lowered his gun that day. It reminded me who I was, and, more importantly, who I was doing it for.”

“Does that mean Kira isn’t going to be personal?”

“I think maybe Starsky will feel that way. But I still don’t believe he’ll enjoy taking Kira apart. He’ll do it, but he’ll do it because he’s a cop, and not because she threatened us.”

“If there were more cops like you two, it would be easier to believe in the system.”

“There’s a lot of cops like us,” Hutch chuckled. “They’re lucky because they don’t get the exposure Starsky and I have enjoyed. Starsky said the other day it was becoming impossible to work undercover because our faces were becoming so well known.”

“You don’t want to be cops forever, do you?”

It suddenly occurred to Hutch that Grace kept him talking because it distracted her. Well, there wasn’t much else he could do, and if helped her…

“Weren’t you the one who told Starsky that he doesn’t work as a cop, but that he is a cop? What do you suggest he ought to do?”

“I don’t know,” Grace said. “Get a college degree, maybe. Teach at the Academy. I don’t even know what interests him most about being a cop.”

“Piecing clues together,” Hutch said immediately. “He’s amazing when it comes to spotting details, he always has his eyes everywhere.”

“So riding a desk is not an option?” Grace grinned.

“I guess not,” Hutch smiled in response, “He was going crazy when he was stuck behind a desk during his recovery.”

Kira’s return interrupted their conversation. “Got the car,” she announced happily. “Piece of cake, that was.”

“Accomplished car thief, are you?” Hutch said. He knew it wasn’t wise annoying the woman, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to control his temper.

Kira laughed. “Stealing the car wasn’t a problem. I was only worried your heap would break down on the way here. I wished I could have taken the Torino, that’s a great car.”

“Do remember to tell Starsky you share his taste in automobiles,” Hutch muttered angrily. He felt Grace nudge him under the blanket.

“Temper, temper, Hutch,” Kira said playfully. “Not much longer now. I dropped a hint for Starsky, he’ll be here in a couple of hours.”

Hutch wasn’t certain whether to be glad or whether to dread his partner’s arrival.

“Hang in there, guys,” Kira grinned. “I have a couple of things to do around the place before Starsky can walk in here. Have to make it look like a lover’s nest, don’t I?”

She left the room, humming. Distractedly, Hutch tried to name the tune, but couldn’t.

“Very appropriate,” Grace said.

Hutch shot her a questioning look.

“‘It’s now or never’, Hutch.”

“Didn’t recognize it, she’s off key.”

“How long before he finds us, do you think?”

Hutch remembered just in time that shrugging was unwise. He whispered, “Dunno. He knows the car is gone, and with luck he had it followed. Then they need to get a swat team in, and organize the raid. Two or three hours.”

For long moments, they listened to Kira moving around the apartment.

Crash! Shards were scattered into the room. Stunned, they watched Starsky-swinging on a rope-come through the broken windowpane in a hailstorm of glass.

“Where is she?” Starsky let go of the rope and went for his gun, at the same time glancing sharply at Hutch. “You okay?”

Before Hutch had recovered from his shock enough to reply, Kira burst into the room, gun in hand. “What’s going on here, what do you think…”

She stopped short, staring at Starsky. “Why didn’t you just knock on the door?”

“Drop that gun,” Starsky said sharply, the Beretta aimed at Kira.

Kira studied his face. “You wouldn’t shoot me.”

“Ready to bet your life on that?” Starsky sounded cold. “Drop it.” Hutch heard the soft click as Starsky cocked his gun.

Kira looked at the gun in her hand, and then back at Starsky. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t want to go to prison.”

“Not San Quentin. Cabrillo Estate, I think,” Starsky replied. “Last warning.”

“Cabrillo…but that’s the funny farm.” Slowly, Kira pointed the gun at herself. “I’ll kill myself before I go there.”

“I ain’t stopping you,” Starsky said, exchanging a quick look with Hutch.

Hutch noticed that a few lines around Starsky’s eyes smoothed out, and he wasn’t frowning anymore. But he didn’t relax his stance.

Kira drew her lower lip between her teeth. Hutch remembered that he had used to consider that endearing. Now it looked as though a snake were baring its fangs.

“I thought…I thought you cared for me.”

From Hutch’s angle, Starsky’s eyes were deep blue and opaque. Would he really let her pull the trigger?

“Put the gun down, Kira.” Starsky sounded almost gentle, and Hutch guessed that he figured she didn’t have the courage to kill herself.

“No,” Kira looked as if she were about to cry. She moved the gun, slowly, and directed it at Grace. Hutch could tell that Grace was holding her breath.

“I’ll kill her. You can kill Hutch.”

Hutch knew the calculating look in Starsky’s eyes; he was judging the distance and the force it would take to disarm Kira.

“We’re cops, we can cover this up. What is it about Grace, Starsky?”

Starsky kept quiet, evidently unwilling to disown him.

Kira’s eyes widened. She looked at Starsky, amazement on her features. “It’s not Grace at all, is it? It’s Hutch, right?”

“It’s always been Hutch,” Starsky replied.

Kira’s eyes narrowed, and Hutch knew. Kira turned, sudden determination in her face, and released the safety on her gun.

The single shot rang out.

Kira crumpled onto the bottom of the bed. Starsky secured his gun and pulled his handcuffs out of the waistband of his jeans. Hutch noticed he didn’t bother to check on Kira’s injury as he tied her wrists.

Grace had her face against his shoulder, and Hutch could feel her rapid breath. She moaned softly.

“Where are the keys?”

“Right front pocket,” Hutch said.

Starsky flipped Kira over and fished for the keys. He moved over to Grace’s side.

“Hey,” Starsky undid her cuffs, “You okay, honey?”

Grace turned to him, her eyelashes damp. “Yeah, I guess. But I missed my appointment at the dentists.”

Starsky blinked, and then grinned. “And a candlelight dinner with Karen.”

“Damn,” Grace’s smile was watery. She rubbed her wrists. “What took you so long?”

Starsky’s smile widened. “Traffic control.”

Just as Starsky was making his way over to Hutch, Cameron and Lambert hastened into the room. “Damn it, Starsky. You were way too early!”

“I was on time,” Starsky said. “You are late.”

“Yeah,” Lambert shot back, “Twelve floors late, you turkey.”

Cameron looked around the room. “Gee, who’s her interior decorator? Ivan the Terrible?”

Starsky stood next to the bed, looking down at Hutch. Looking up, Hutch could see he was torn between glee and rage. Which one was it going to be?

“Aren’t you gonna free your partner?” Lambert asked.

“I’m wondering whether to leave him here,” Starsky said, his voice even. Rage, then. Hutch knew it would be a very good idea to keep his mouth shut for a while-and wondered whether he even knew how to do that.

“Aw, go on. Take him home. He doesn’t add to the décor here,” Cameron bent over Kira. She removed Starsky’s handcuffs and handed them to him. “She won’t be wearing jewelry where she’s going.”

“What?” Clearly, Starsky’s mind was elsewhere.

“You cuffed a corpse, sweetheart.”

Starsky shrugged and put the cuffs away. He frowned at Hutch and finally freed him. “Let’s go.”

Wordlessly, Hutch got to his feet, staggering slightly as the circulation came back. Instantly, Starsky’s firm grip around his waist steadied him.

“We’ll help Grace get downstairs. Can you manage Hutch?” Lambert asked.

“I’ll manage Hutch,” Starsky said. Hutch thought it sounded ominous.

They met Dobey and a few uniforms at the front door. He grinned widely at Starsky. “That was cute all right, Starsky. You looked like Tarzan there!”

“Thanks, Captain. I always wondered why the guy screams when he swings from tree to tree. Now I know. Tarzan is scared of heights, too.”

Dobey chortled, and then asked, “Kira?”

“Shot her,” Starsky said.

Dobey nodded. “The commissioner will be glad to hear it.”

“That’s not why I did it.”

“Of course not,” Dobey scowled at him. “What are you waiting for, get that partner of yours and Grace to the hospital. We’ll do the rest here.”

Starsky tugged, “Come on, Hutch.”

Glad to get away from their captain so easily, Hutch followed eagerly.

“Oh, Starsky?”

They stopped. “Yes, Cap?” Starsky asked, and Hutch could see a cool glint of amusement behind the fire of anger in his eyes.

“You sort your partner out?”

“You bet,” Starsky said.

“Good,” Dobey gave Hutch an evil grin. “Carry on, Starsky.”

Hutch waited until they were out of earshot. “You’re not really taking me to hospital, are you?”

Starsky glared at him. “Hypothermia, dehydration, and poisoning. Shock, possibly. Those words mean anything to you, Hutch?”

“Come off it, Starsky. We weren’t in there for long.”

“You obviously have no idea how long you were there for,” Starsky said. “The doctors are going to warm you up, put you on a drip, pump out your stomach, and run a number of tests. Don’t bother to argue.”

“You wouldn’t do that to Grace,” Hutch said uncertainly.

“Would. Will. Move.”

By the time they got down to ground level, Lambert and Cameron had settled Grace into the Torino, wrapped in a thick blanket. Hutch realized that either Starsky had briefed them, or they were thinking along his lines anyway.

Cameron scrutinized Starsky thoughtfully. “You okay to drive? You haven’t slept in three days, have you?”

Starsky shrugged. “How do you think I got here? I didn’t fly, y’know.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Cameron retorted. “I thought you had your Superman’s cape hidden under that jacket somewhere.”

“No, I’m all alone in here,” Starsky grinned. “Come on, I’ve got two people to transport.”

“An ambulance would have been a good idea, you mule.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, if not the words,” Starsky said. “I’m not going to let them out of my sight again for a while, I tell you.”

Cameron sighed. “Do me a favor? Let us drive ahead and clear the roads for you?”

“Why, Cameron, I didn’t know you cared,” Starsky smiled.

“What does it take, Starsky,” she muttered disgustedly. “Fireworks? Let’s go before we freeze to the spot.”

Starsky nodded, “You got it.” He got a blanket out of the trunk and threw it at Hutch. “Wrap up. Don’t bother to complain.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Hutch said, trying to prevent his teeth from chattering. Looked like Starsky had been right about shock, maybe even hypothermia.

Starsky started the engine and followed Cameron’s car. He turned the heating up and then moved the rear-view mirror to look at Grace. “Was he at least good company in bed?”

Hutch turned in time to see Grace smile brightly. “Terrific. Very warm. Very supportive. Kept his hands to himself the whole time.”

Starsky chortled.

——

At the hospital, nurses whisked Grace away in one direction, Starsky and Hutch were led to another room. The nurse smiled at them warmly. “The doctor will be with you in a moment.” She left, closing the door quietly.

They looked at each for a long moment.

Finally, Starsky said, “What’s the matter, magician? Lost your wand, your marbles and your voice all in one go?”

Hutch shrugged. “Nothing much I can say when you’re mad at me.”

“You saying I ain’t got reason?”

“No,” Hutch sighed. “I’m not saying that. You were right all along, and I was a jerk.”

“You told me you’d be careful. What happened?”

“I was stupid.”

“Very stupid,” Starsky said, his eyes flashing. “And very careless. Another agreement you arbitrarily ignored. You gonna make a habit of it?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Starsky? You were right about the wand, though.”

Starsky clearly had trouble suppressing his smile. “Are you trying to tell me you lost it?”

“No. Didn’t work.”

“That’s a new one. Should I get worried?”

“I thought you’d stop worrying.”

Starsky nodded. “Maybe it’s time to tell Dobey we’re not into that line of work anymore? Let some bachelor take over?”

“Sounds good to me,” Hutch smiled.

He was surprised when Starsky flung his arms around him, clinging tightly.

“I was worried sick,” Starsky said hoarsely. “It took forever to work out you were in that derelict building.”

“Saw the car, did you?”

“Car? What car?” Starsky sounded puzzled. “Judge Winters knew Kira was interested in abandoned buildings. According to him, she always said she wanted to buy one and build it back up, but she never did. He thought she didn’t have the funds. We took it from there. The house you were in was the one closest to her place, so we checked the water and electricity meters. That’s how we found you.”

“That building is nowhere near where Kira lived,” Hutch protested.

“She had another two apartments in West LA,” Starsky explained.

“How the hell did she pay for those?”

Starsky grimaced. “We didn’t want to dig into that too deeply, for fear of tipping her off. It’s gonna be fun piecing all that together.”

“You have no idea,” Hutch said, about to mention the Avery case. The doctor’s arrival stopped him. Starsky was told to either go home or stay in the waiting area, and Hutch was subjected to various indignities, several probes and prods.

He had no clue how much time had passed, but he was beginning to get very tired and grouchy, so it had to be quite a few hours.

To his vast relief, Kira had been true to her word. The doctors found no poison in his blood, not even the remains of the sleeping powder she had given him.

A nurse pointed the waiting area out to him, and he walked in to find Captain Dobey looking at his partner with an expression that was either analytical or incredulous. Apparently the Captain had felt his eyes on him, because he glanced up and smiled.

Dobey drew him back out into the corridor and asked, “Are you all right, Hutch?”

“You mean, apart from the fact that somebody pushed hoses where hoses shouldn’t go? And I’ve given enough blood to feed a flock of vampires.” Hutch tried to sound grouchy, but Dobey’s amused face told him he had failed.

“Serves you right,” Dobey said comfortably. “Hoses, huh? Did you know you’re beginning to sound like your partner?”

“No,” Hutch said. “I didn’t know that. That’s terrible.”

Dobey studied him for a moment. “Your last report had an awful lot of spelling mistakes, too. As if you were the one impatient to get it over with.”

Hutch suppressed an evil smile. “I was.”

“Are you in love, Hutch?”

Hutch didn’t hesitate. “Madly.”

“So is Starsky.” Dobey smiled widely.

Hutch could feel himself blush. What did Dobey know? How much did he know, and how much was he guessing at?

“Your partner was very worried about you,” the Captain continued smoothly. After a significant pause, he added, “And about Grace, of course.”

“Of course,” Hutch muttered. Now, were they out to Captain Dobey? Or weren’t they? “Why the hell did you allow him to pull that stunt? Wasn’t there anybody around who’s not scared of heights?”

Dobey shook his head. “He was determined to do it himself. Practiced on another window on the other side of the building, to make sure the glass would break the first time.”

“You let him do that twice?”

“You think I had a choice? You of all people ought to know how stubborn Starsky can be.”

Hutch sighed. “I know.”

“Take him home,” Dobey said, concern obvious. “Make sure he gets some sleep. Get him to eat. I’m giving you the next three days off.”

“Thanks, Captain. I really appreciate it.  We do.”

Dobey waved his thanks away. “You’ll be glad to hear that Ross is back home. He already knows you’re safe, everybody does, but I’m sure he’d like to get a call from you.”

“I’ll give him a ring when we get home,” Hutch promised, and winced when he realized what he had said.

Dobey either hadn’t noticed, or already had a lot of practice at pretending. “You do that. And now, get your partner out of here. He’s bushed, he did most of the footwork on this one.”

Hutch nodded and turned to find Grace leaning against the door, regarding Starsky thoughtfully. “What is it, Grace?”

“I didn’t think he could kill somebody, just like that.”

“He did her a favor,” Hutch said heavily. “She didn’t have what it took to do it herself.”

Grace nodded. “I know he was just doing his job. But…at least she would have been alive in Cabrillo Estate.”

“I wouldn’t call that alive,” Hutch replied, his eyes on Starsky. “Starsky knows exactly what it would have been like for her. And it was her last chance to get out of it.”

“I hope he can sleep with that on his mind,” Grace said.

Hutch chuckled. “I don’t see a problem, do you?”

“Yeah, but right now, he’s tired.”

“Look, Grace. There’s something you need to understand. Starsky doesn’t make that kind of decision lightly. But once the choice is made, he doesn’t question it. He can’t afford to. You might consider it callous and cold-hearted, but Starsky won’t feel it weighing on his conscience.”

Grace sighed. “It takes a lot of courage to be a cop. You reckon he’d be annoyed if I didn’t want to see him for a while?”

“He’ll understand you need time to get over it. But he won’t want you to be alone in the next few days.”

“I phoned Karen. She’ll be here in a moment to pick me up.”

Hutch nodded, trying to hide his satisfaction. They needed time to themselves, and for a change, it appeared as though they were going to get it.

Grace smiled. “I guess I’ll go and wait for her downstairs. You look after each other, okay? I’ll be in touch.”

“Say hi to Karen.”

“Will do. Oh, and Hutch?”

Hutch was already on his way over to Starsky, but he turned back, “What, Grace?”

“It was nice sharing a bed with you.”

“Same here,” Hutch smiled. “But we don’t need to do it again.”

“No, definitely not.” Giggling, Grace left.

——

Gently, Hutch brushed a stray curl from Starsky’s face. “Hey, partner. Wake up.”

Lids fluttered, blue eyes looked at him sleepily, then cleared. With one fluid movement, Starsky slipped into his arms. “You okay, Hutch?”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Terrific!” Starsky beamed at him. “Let’s find Grace and go home.”

“Grace is with Karen.”

“Well, in that case…”

“I’ve already spoken to Dobey. We’re off the duty roster for the next three days.” Hutch tightened his hold. “Let’s get out of here.”

Starsky got to his feet and pulled Hutch up. “Let’s go home and see whether we can conjure up some charms.”

Hutch smiled. “Starsky–whenever we’re together, it’s magic.”

The end