Until the Cat Comes

175

Starsky reveals some troubling details to Hutch about his former mentor, Luke Huntley, as he recounts the events of their first undercover assignment, and how his hidden feelings for Hutch inadvertently impaired their friendship before they became partners.

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Birds of a feather flock together – until the cat comes.

Chapter One

1981

Starsky reached across the bed to embrace the man he cherished more than life itself. He could feel Hutch’s heart pounding alongside his own, a lengthy and intense round of lovemaking the delicious cause.

At one time, years ago, he believed sex was simply for fun, a way to express love or desire while letting off steam. Since Hutch became his lover two years ago, he discovered endless reasons to make love, like an afternoon of fun, an evening to recover from a bad day, a night of insatiable need, or a morning of comfort and warmth. No matter where they were, why it happened, or when, it was always about love.

At times, Starsky felt desperate with need and greedily devoured everything Hutch had to give. After Gunther’s assassination attempt, when feeling whole again seemed impossible, Hutch was there, feeding his body and soul and asking nothing in return.

Tonight, as they lay in the afterglow, Starsky hoped he achieved his unspoken goal to heal Hutch’s pain. He would go to whatever lengths necessary to protect his partner’s heart from suffering anymore.

Hutch gently squeezed Starsky’s hand and held it to his throbbing heart. “I love you,” Hutch whispered. “Thank you for being here.”

“Where else would I be?” Starsky answered. “When you hurt, I hurt, always have. If I can take away even an ounce of your pain, it only helps me. And I like helping me.”

Starsky smiled at the sound of Hutch’s laugh, his attempt to lighten the mood a small consolation in the face of his lover’s loss.

“He only had two more months until he was out on probation,” Hutch said as he gripped Starsky’s hand. “What was he thinking, getting into a knife fight with another inmate like that? He should have known better.”

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Starsky listened to Hutch express his sorrow over Luke Huntley’s death. Hutch was right, it shouldn’t have happened. The former police officer was scheduled for release after serving the majority of his two-year sentence for his role in the Reuben case. Luke’s wife Doris lost their entire life savings due to her gambling addiction, and now she faced the rest of her life without her husband.

“According to the warden, the other inmate had a grudge against Luke after learning he was an ex-cop. Luke should have been placed in a guarded facility. It wasn’t his fault he got lured into a fight he couldn’t win.” Starsky tried to ease Hutch’s anguish, and downplay Luke’s role in the incident.

“He was the reason I’m on the force in the first place,” Hutch said, not for the first time. “He taught me so much. It’s like losing a father figure.”

Hutch exhaled deeply as if the agony of losing his former mentor could be expelled from his lungs and vaporized into thin air.

“Sorry Starsky,” Hutch said, brushing Starsky’s locks away from his eyes. “Listen to me going on and on. It’s just that I loved him, you know?”

Starsky closed his eyes, savoring Hutch’s soothing touch against his brow. He did feel bad about Luke’s death. The Reuben case was a fiasco from the beginning, and now it ended in tragedy. He only hoped Hutch didn’t carry the burden of his old friend, teacher, and former partner’s death too near to his heart.

“Don’t ever be sorry for loving someone, Hutch. Even if that person had flaws, or didn’t always act ethically or above board all his life. You loved him, that’s all that matters.”

Hutch’s fingers stopped their caressing and Starsky sensed a shift in the air. Hutch drew back his head, catching Starsky’s eyes as they fluttered open.

“He went to jail trying to protect his wife. Yes, it was wrong and against the law, but it was an extenuating and understandable circumstance.” Hutch’s pupils constricted.

“Sure, that’s what I said. It was understandable.” Starsky smiled, hoping the soft stroking would resume.

“Hold on, Starsky. That’s not what you said. You said that Luke was not always ethical or above board all his life. Why did you say that? The incident with Reuben was a one-time thing, brought on by extreme duress.”

Starsky cursed himself for his choice of words.

They didn’t get to be lovers for the past two years, partners for the past nine, and friends at the Academy five years before that, without learning to read each other’s thoughts. Anything short of the truth was not an option.

“Do you remember the Bennett case?” Starsky asked.

“Of course, I remember. It was the first time you and I went undercover together, the year before we became partners.  Why?”

“Hutch, there are some things you should know about Luke.” Starsky sat up a little and looked at Hutch.

The gentle stroking had ended, replaced by skeptical eyes demanding answers.

“What kind of things?” Hutch asked.

Starsky stuffed a pillow behind his head, and raised the covers over his torso, placing his folded hands on his lap.

“Are you sure you want to know?” Starsky asked. He was not surprised Hutch replied with a nod.

“Alright,” Starsky gave in, pulling Hutch’s head against his shoulder. “It was ten years ago, so bear with me if I jump around.  It will all make sense by the time I’m finished.”

Chapter Two

1971

Starsky sat in the squad room with a fresh cup of coffee, the sounds of phones ringing, typewriters clacking, and noisy chatter filling the air. The precinct was always crowded on Monday mornings, as weekend offenders who landed in holding cells were processed into the system by clerks and uniformed cops.

Starsky didn’t miss walking a beat or driving a patrol car. When he completed the minimum of four years in uniform, Starsky didn’t hesitate to take the detective’s exam, passing it on the first try. The job still involved too much paperwork for his liking, but he was mostly on the street, involved in investigations for the homicide division and occasionally drug-related crimes for vice.

“Rough weekend, Dave?” came a voice from behind, rousing Starsky from his morning thoughts. “Or just deciding what you want for breakfast?”

The pat on the back jolted Starsky forward, and some coffee dribbled from the mug at his lips. He chuckled as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, looking up at the man who taught him how to fight as a kid.

“A little of both,” Starsky said to his mentor, John Blaine. “Hey, are we riding together again this week?”

“That’s up to Dobey,” John said, sitting next to Starsky. “I don’t mind us working cases together, we’ve been pretty damned successful, but it can’t be forever. If you’re thinking someday of being promoted to a first-grade detective, you’ll need to find a more permanent partner. How you get along with your fellow cops will matter to the big brass, and riding with your old friend who one day hopes to be captain himself won’t pass muster.”

“I get along with my fellow cops just fine,” Starsky faked a pout. “I can’t help it if some of my fellow cops think I drive too fast or they complain about how I grease a few harmless snitches to get information on the streets or are jealous how I manage to find the best parking spots. You have to admit, my arrest record is pretty good, and isn’t that what counts?”

“There’s no doubt about that. You’re a good detective, and more importantly, an honest cop. So, don’t take it the wrong way if some people don’t want to deal with someone so…passionate. I know you stand up for what you believe in, but others who don’t know you, might not see it that way. You need to find a balance.”

“I thought cops were supposed to have a mixture of aggression and compassion,” Starsky retorted. “Are you saying I got too much of one and not the other?”

“No, I’m not saying that at all,” Blaine said. “I think you’ve got more compassion in your heart than most officers have in their little finger. But what I believe won’t matter to the brass that looks at your track record. Take it from me, fitting in is equally important.”

“I hear you loud and clear,” Starsky gave a mock salute to his superior.  Blaine got up and shook his head, chuckling as he pulled the squad doors open.

“Starsky!” Dobey’s voice boomed from his office, “Get in here.”

“So much for breakfast and further self-reflection,” Starsky thought to himself as he grabbed his coffee. “Right away, captain.”

*****

Dobey’s office hadn’t changed much in the year since Starsky worked as a detective at Metro. There was a sizable wooden desk covered with neatly stacked files, a map of the city covering an entire wall, and two telephones, one black and one red. There were two side chairs for guests, a few diplomas hanging on the brown paneling, and surprisingly, no waste paper basket.

“Have a seat Starsky,” Dobey said, handing him a folder. “This is a file for a case I’m assigning to you. Have you ever heard of Ted Bennett?”

Starsky pulled out a photo of a young man in his early thirties, neatly groomed and well-dressed in an expensive three-piece suit, walking out of a downtown nightclub. “I’ve heard of him. He came in from New York a while ago and operates a drug ring out of Bay City. What’s the assignment?”

“It’s an undercover operation being set up by the FBI. They asked if I had any young men who had experience with cocaine busts and who could pass for a New Yorker.”

“Sounds like the perfect job for me. When do I start?” Starsky felt like Monday was turning into a good day after all.

“Not so fast, Starsky. There are some people you need to meet first. Once we have a team put together, we’ll meet with the FBI about the next steps.”

“Team?” Starsky choked out. “I thought I’d be working alone.”

“You thought wrong,” Dobey remarked. A knock at the door interrupted further discussion.

“Come in,” Dobey and Starsky stood up to greet the visitors.

Two men walked into the office. In front was a man in his early forties dressed in a blue suit and tie, with sprinkles of gray hair at the temples.

“Hello Captain Dobey,” the visitor said, extending a hand. “I’m Luke Huntley. We were dispatched by Captain Reilly to meet with you this morning.”

“Welcome to Metro,” Dobey said, shaking Huntley’s hand.

Starsky paid little attention to the idle conversation between the two more senior men and concentrated on the man who entered behind Huntley. He was a man who Starsky recognized in his sleep.

“This is Detective Ken Hutchinson, second grade. I’ve known him since he was a rookie, taught him everything he knows,” Huntley smiled, patting Hutch on the back. He stepped out of the way to make room for his protégé. “Kenny and I have worked together on several cases since he became detective last year.”

“Hello, sir, nice to meet you,” the blond man said, shaking Dobey’s hand. “Luke’s been a great teacher, both when I was a rookie, and still today.” Hutch was dressed casually in a dark blue turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, and brown corduroy pants.

Dobey continued the introductions. “This is Detective Sergeant Starsky, second-grade. Starsky, this is Huntley and…”

“Hutch,” Starsky said, extending his hand to each visitor. “Hutch and I have known each other since the Academy, captain.”

“Well, that’s good,” Dobey said, satisfied, gesturing to everyone to sit. “You’re already acquainted. That might make things smoother.”

Starsky quickly located a chair and sat down, a familiar ache bursting in his chest. When they first met at the Academy, he and Hutch became close friends right away. They practically lived in each other’s pockets until they graduated, when they were sent to different departments in their rookie years.

“Good to see you, Starsky. Vanessa and I missed you at the last police barbeque,” Hutch said in a friendly tone.

“Sorry, I was tied up with a case that day,” Starsky said, not missing how Hutch’s blue eyes popped against his dark blue shirt. “How’s married life been treating you? Has it been three years already since your wedding?”

“Four,” Hutch corrected, averting his eyes.

Huntley interrupted the small talk. “We can catch up on our personal lives another time, right Captain Dobey? How about we get down to business? What’s the setup? All I know is there’s an FBI operation and Kenny and I are being asked to go under.”

“You’ve got it mostly right, Huntley,” Dobey said, clearing his throat, “but the Feds only need two men for the job, just Hutchinson and Starsky.”

“Hold on a minute, sir,” Hutch spoke up. “I understood it would be Luke and me together on this case. That’s the way it’s been working under Captain Reilly.”

Hutch glanced at Starsky. “No offense Starsky, but you can understand, can’t you?”

Starsky opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Dobey’s booming voice.

“Don’t be looking at Starsky. He’ll be going where he’s assigned, and so will you two,” Dobey pointed his pen between Hutch and Huntley. “Captain Reilly knows the setup and is fully supportive, so this isn’t up for negotiation. The Feds need two young men. One who has first-hand knowledge of the streets of New York,” Dobey pointed his pen at Starsky. “That would be your role.”

He pointed back to Hutch. “They need another man who can play the role of a rich type, with a bad drug habit and family money to burn. That’s you, Hutchinson.”

“As for you, Huntley, your captain knows you and Hutchinson go a long way back, that’s why you’re here,” Dobey said, putting his pen down. “You’ll be working from the outside as the main point of contact for both Hutch and Starsky, as well as liaising with the Feds on anything else they want. Got it?”

“Yes, captain,” said Huntley while Hutch and Starsky nodded in agreement.

“Good,” Dobey said, handing folders to Hutch and Huntley. “Starsky has the same copy. Take these files and familiarize yourselves with the case. We’ll meet with the Feds this afternoon.”

*****

“Looks like we have some homework to do,” Starsky said as he sat at his desk, pulling out a chair for Hutch, and motioning to Huntley to take a seat opposite. They settled into their seats and began reading.

Starsky blinked, trying to focus on the words on the paper. He cast a sidelong glance at Hutch who was preoccupied with the file and wondered what he was thinking. They used to talk all the time about working together and often joked about busting heads and taking names.

They remained in contact over the years, getting together to shoot hoops or play pool, sometimes followed by a beer to swap job-related stories. However as time went on, Starsky began to distance himself from Hutch.

Hutch got married to Vanessa after graduation, and Starsky’s distance grew. It’s not that Starsky wasn’t happy for Hutch, he was.  Hutch was madly in love with a gorgeous woman who loved him back, and above everything else, Hutch deserved to be loved.

A couple of years into their marriage, Starsky saw Hutch and Vanessa at the police picnic. Hutch was beautiful, his golden hair gleaming as he sat on the lawn, strumming his guitar.  Starsky leaned against a tree, enthralled by the sound of the silky voice, a crowd gathered around Hutch as he sang.  In the corner of his eye, Starsky saw Vanessa.  She sat at a picnic table, her arms crossed, and her expression sour.

Starsky watched Vanessa closely, her aloof and cool demeanor permeating her surroundings, and he admitted to himself he couldn’t care less about her.  It was only Hutch he cared about, and his happiness was what mattered the most. All the more reason for Starsky to ignore the ache he felt in his heart every time he saw Hutch, necessitating his self-imposed separation.

Starsky wiped his brow, the sudden heat in the room raising his temperature.

“What do you boys think?” Hutch asked as he closed his file.

Huntley responded, “The report says Theodore Bennett Junior, or Ted, is thirty years old and came to Bay City six months ago. His father, Theodore Bennett Senior, is a big-time cocaine dealer out of New York. He sent his son Ted down here to run his west coast operations.”

“The problem is,” Starsky jumped in, “Ted is a little too into the product, not to mention the ladies. Daddy hasn’t been too happy with him, so Teddy has one more shot to score big or his father will pull the plug and bring him back to New York with his tail between his legs. The Feds see this as a perfect opportunity to exploit Junior’s desperation, and bring in both father and son simultaneously.”

Hutch looked over at Starsky, and pointed to the page. “Says here you’ll go under as Marvin Stern, an ex-con from New York looking to get in on the score with Bennett. As for me,” Hutch flipped through the pages. “Here it is. I’m a rich playboy named Michael Winchester from Chicago. I’m in town looking to make a huge purchase of cocaine to take back home for distribution.”

Luke tossed his file aside. “Ok boys, we meet with the Feds this afternoon. I suggest you both get some lunch while I meet with Dobey to review the surveillance. You may have known each other for years, but you’ve got a lot of catching up to do if you even hope to work together in an undercover assignment like this.”

Starsky squashed the lingering butterflies in his gut. He tried to catch Hutch’s eyes, but he was looking away. “What do you say, Winchester? I know a place not far from here called Huggy Bear’s.”

Hutch looked up, shrugging as though he was either reluctant or indifferent, Starsky couldn’t tell which. “Sure, why not.  What’s a Huggy Bear?”

Starsky flashed a nervous smile. “You’re about to find out.”

They collected their jackets and left, Starsky holding the door open for Hutch as he followed behind.

Chapter Three

“Hey Hug,” Starsky waved to the barkeep who was wiping down the counter. The lunch hour was busy, and they headed to a booth at the back. “A couple of beers please.”

“Are you sure beer is a good idea, Starsky? It’s the middle of the afternoon,” Hutch said, looking around the room and smiling at the waitress.

“You haven’t changed much since the Academy, have you? All business,” Starsky joked.

“I like to have a good time as much as the next guy, but I know when to have fun and when it’s time to work,” Hutch retorted.

“Would you rather I order you a Shirley Temple?” Starsky asked, admiring how pink Hutch’s cheeks became at the suggestion.

“Today, I’ll make an exception,” Hutch grinned sarcastically. “I need to practice fitting in with the flock. You think Winchester would drink beer in the afternoon or something else?”

“I think a guy like Winchester would have champagne for breakfast and the finest scotch for lunch, but I don’t think Huggy carries either,” Starsky smiled. He began to relax a little, the familiar banter with Hutch was coming back to him like riding a bicycle.

Huggy brought over two beers, set them down, and stood with the serving tray trapped against his body. “Always a pleasure seeing you here Starsky. And whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“This is Detective Ken Hutchinson,” Starsky said. “I’ve known Hutch since the Academy. We’re working on a case together.”

Huggy held out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Ken Hutchinson. Any friend or foe of Starsky’s is a friend or foe of mine.”

Hutch shook Huggy’s hand. “Good to meet you, Huggy. Call me Hutch.”

Starsky laughed. “He’s a friend, definitely a friend. Not a foe.”

“Not a foe, good to know,” Huggy responded. “I’ll be back with two Huggy specials. Two burgers with cheese and fries.”

“Make mine with onions Hug,” Starsky reminded him.

“Pickles for me, please,” Hutch said with a smile.

“Coming right up,” Huggy said and spun away.

Starsky raised his glass to toast. “Cheers to fitting in with the flock, like birds of a feather and all that,” he said.

Hutch touched his glass to Starsky’s. “Birds of a feather flock together,” he said, raising his glass to his lips.

Starsky took a sip, tasting the frothiness of the cold beer, enjoying the momentary eye contact with Hutch, a smile forming on his lips.

“Until the cat comes,” Hutch added. “Birds of a feather flock together – until the cat comes,” he repeated the saying. “Not many people know the ending to that phrase.”

“Is that right?” Starsky asked, gripping his glass tightly at the stem. “Was that on the back of a Reader’s Digest you have in the john?”

Hutch shook his head and ran a hand down his face, his expression as solemn as someone who lost his best friend. It was a face Starsky had never wanted to see.

“It’s something my mother used to say, to warn me about fair-weather friends. It means that a person might become friends with others who share similar interests and traits, but when things get rough, like the cat chasing the birds, watch out because those friends can disappear like that.” Hutch snapped his fingers for emphasis.

Starsky’s smile evaporated. “What are you trying to say?” He stroked the edge of his glass, starting at the condensation that collected on the thin paper coaster beneath.

“Now that you ask, we may as well get this out in the open,” Hutch answered. “After all, we are going undercover together and as Luke said, we need to count on each other.”

Starsky shuffled in his seat. Hutch’s eyes were starting to flare, and the casual banter from two minutes ago was a short-lived memory.

“By all means, get it out in the open,” Starsky retorted. “Whatever it is.”

“Okay, I will,” Hutch responded, almost too calmly.

Starsky recognized Hutch’s tone of voice. It was like when they had debates in class. If Hutch felt passionate about a viewpoint, he would spend hours in advance preparing his facts so that during class, he could speak calmly and without hesitation. Yet when the time came, and he spoke out loud, his passion spilled out and he couldn’t manage to speak without faltering or masking his emotion.

“How about the last -I don’t know how many times – I called you to get together, and you turned me down?” Hutch said, holding up a finger to signal he wasn’t finished.

“Like a few months ago, I asked if you wanted to go for drinks at a Jazz club downtown, and before that, I invited you to go see that James Bond movie, Diamonds are Forever. And before that, to go shoot hoops at the park. And before that to come over for dinner.  And before that…”

“Ok, I get the picture,” Starsky held up a hand, knowing all of it was true. “I didn’t know you would be sore about all that.  I was just busy, that was all.”

Hutch’s jaw was tense and his brow wrinkled, yet his eyes still had a sympathetic sense of hurt and confusion.

“Busy?” Hutch sneered. “You remember the night I asked you to go to the Jazz club, and you said you had a late-night stakeout and couldn’t come? Well, I didn’t go to the Jazz club that night. Vanessa and I went to see that James Bond movie instead. And guess who I saw sitting in the front row with a beautiful redhead?”

Starsky swallowed hard. That was the night he took Amy to the movies, a casual girlfriend who he dated once in a while for a good time. “You said you went to that movie the week before, why did you see it again?”

“Don’t change the subject Starsky. Vanessa and I decided not to go to the movies the week before. Admit it, you blew me off that night. Why didn’t you just tell me you had plans?”

Starsky tried to think of a reason. “If I had said I had a date, you would have said to bring her to the Jazz club. And you know what? I hate Jazz. There, I said it.  So, I…I lied,” Starsky gulped another swig of beer. His nerves were in high gear.

“No kidding, detective,” Hutch quipped, his eyes fixed on his beer.

Starsky couldn’t meet Hutch’s eyes. He had lied to Hutch. He did hate Jazz, but that wasn’t the lie. There was another reason he kept turning Hutch down.

“You know, Starsky, if we are going to survive this undercover operation, I think a little honesty is in order, don’t you?”

Starsky guzzled back his beer, not wanting to have this conversation.

“You think I don’t see what’s going on?” Hutch’s voice dropped an octave, and he became quiet. “You think I can’t see the truth, friend ?”

Starsky’s heart sank at Hutch’s injured tone, his guilt surging at the reality of their slipping friendship. He knew he had caused hurt to the man he loved more than he would his worst enemy.

“Hutch, I…I’m sorry. Please, try to understand where I’m coming from.”

“Understand? Sure, I understand. You don’t like Vanessa. You never have, and that’s why you won’t accept any of my invitations. I guess our friendship wasn’t worth it to you.”

Starsky’s mouth hung open. This was not what he expected. “What? No, I barely even know Vanessa. Why would I try to avoid her?”

“Doesn’t take a detective to figure it out. After graduation, and after I got married, you started disappearing from my life.  Sure, we’ve seen each other occasionally, but we’re more like acquaintances than friends. At least, it’s not the friendship I thought we once had.”

Starsky’s face went numb, there was no denying that was true. The problem was, no matter how much he had lied to himself, no amount of distance or time could remedy the longing in his heart.

“We are friends, Hutch, much more than acquaintances. I’ve just not been a very good one lately, and I’m sorry. I’d like to make it up to you. How about after this is over, we double-date and go see a movie? Whatever you and Vanessa want to see, ok?”

Huggy interrupted, coming over with their burgers. “Here you go gentlemen. Pickles,” he placed a plate in front of Starsky, “and onions,” he placed the other in front of Hutch. “Bon Appétit.”

“Uh Hug,” Starsky tried to call him back, but he was out of earshot.

Starsky picked up Hutch’s plate and switched it with his own. “You’re the pickles, I’m the onions,” he laughed anxiously.

Starsky knew his voice was tight, and Hutch’s expression was hollow. “So, what do you say, Hutch? We could even go to the Jazz club you like so much. I was just kidding before, that music kind of grows on me.”

“Forget it,” Hutch said, fiddling with his napkin. He lifted his burger and took a large bite. “Just forget it.”

Starsky dropped the burger on his plate, his appetite lost. Earlier today he was giddy at the thought of working alongside Hutch on a case. Now, he felt sick at the thought of losing Hutch from his life.

“Besides, Vanessa and I are…having trouble. She went home to Duluth to be with her parents for a while,” Hutch added.

Starsky’s eyes widened. Hutch’s pained expression broke his heart even more. “I’m sorry buddy. Would you like to talk about it?”

“No, not really,” Hutch said hesitantly. “Why do you care, anyway?”

“You just told me your marriage is in trouble. Even if you think I’ve been a bad friend, which I can’t argue with, I do care. You’re right, if we’re going undercover together, you better start trusting me a little, at least to know I’m not lying about that,” Starsky said, his voice cracking.

Hutch’s anger dissipated, but his blue eyes radiated lingering regret and doubt.

“Ok, for the good of the assignment, I’ll make an effort,” Hutch conceded.

He lowered his gaze, focusing on the contents of his glass, and blew out a breath. “It was all wonderful when we first got married. She came down to California knowing I wanted to be a cop, and she was okay with it, or at least seemed to be.  About a year into our marriage, something changed.”

Starsky played with his fries, waiting for Hutch to continue. When nothing further came, he prodded, “What happened?”

“I was still in my probationary period as a rookie, and Luke was my training officer. Luke and his wife Doris had us over for dinner one night,” Hutch said, shaking his head as if it was still a shock to him.

Starsky paused his nibbling and looked at Hutch. “Yeah, so?”

“I know it sounds like nothing, but that’s when it all started to fall apart,” Hutch continued. “Luke and I were in the garage, talking about the latest case, while Doris and Vanessa were chatting in the kitchen. Doris got pretty honest with Vanessa about what it was like to be a cop’s wife for so many years.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What’s wrong with being a cop’s wife?” Starsky asked.

“Doris went into how they never had kids, how Luke was on the job most nights, leaving her alone. She told Vanessa they didn’t have a lot of extra money, they hardly ever had time alone to go out, and rarely took vacations. Doris said she once turned on both the radio and the television at the same time, just to avoid being lonely. Her only outlet was to play bingo at the church every Tuesday.”

“Just because that was Doris’s story didn’t mean it had to be Vanessa’s. Why did she listen to that?”

“Because it was starting to happen with us too. I rode with Luke when I was a rookie, and we put in a lot of overtime during the week, sometimes on weekends too. When I passed probation and got a patrol car, I worked even more. Any time Vanessa and I talked about kids, she said she didn’t want to raise children alone. And she hated the thought of not having enough money. It went downhill from there, and every conversation after that was about me quitting the force and going back to Duluth. She said being married to a cop held no future for her.”

“It’s a little late for her to be coming to that conclusion, isn’t it Hutch? I mean, she should have known from the beginning how it would be.”

“We were happy, in the beginning, and we thought we could do anything together. Like a lot of couples, reality sunk in and it all changed. Now, she’s in Duluth, thinking it over. I’m supposed to just sit here and let her decide whether or not we have a future.”

“Do you want there to be a future with her?” Starsky asked.

“I don’t know. Not if she wants me to quit the force. Being a cop is what I want to do, and where I belong. I’m sure of it. I just wish she could…accept that.”

“I know one thing. You can’t force another person to want something just because you do,” Starsky pushed his plate away.  “Whatever happens, just remember that you get a say in your marriage too.”

Hutch nodded. His anger from before seemed forgotten, at least for now.

“So, you and Luke started working cases after you became a detective? How did that happen?” Starsky gladly changed the subject.

“Luke put in a good word for me to Captain Reilly after I made detective. He’s an excellent captain, but he hasn’t assigned me a partner yet – said he needed to see how I worked first. Until then, Luke often puts in a request for me to join him if he’s been assigned a case.”

Hutch took the last bite of his burger and washed it down with a final guzzle of beer. “Enough about me, what about you? Any special lady that you’ll be meeting at the altar sometime soon?”

“Sure, I have a special lady. And another one, and another one,” Starsky laughed. “Problem is, they’re all special and I don’t want to choose.”

Hutch pulled out his wallet, throwing some bills on the table. “Some things never change, Starsk. Let’s go. Dobey and Luke will think we got lost.”

Starsky grabbed Hutch’s arm before he stood. “Hutch, I truly am sorry. I hope we can start over.”

Hutch held Starsky’s stare, and for a moment Starsky felt lost in his blue eyes. For five years Starsky tried to run from that feeling, pretending it wasn’t real. Yet here he was, right back at the beginning, like he had been running in place all along.

“Let’s talk when the case is over,” Hutch said softly.

Starsky felt a sense of relief washing over him as he waved goodbye to Huggy and followed Hutch’s long strides to the exit.

Hutch pulled the door open and stopped, gesturing to Starsky to go ahead. An electric charge tingled through Starsky’s body as he brushed against the long leather sleeve that propped the door open as he passed.

Chapter Four

Starsky jogged down the stairs of his dingy hotel room and headed to the pay phone at the corner.

It was the same routine for the past three weeks. He would check in every other night at ten o’clock and Huntley would pick up. At Huntley’s insistence, the call lasted no longer than two minutes, in case Starsky was being watched, he could say he was ordering a pizza or calling a taxi. If Starsky failed to call at the prescribed time, Huntley, Dobey, Hutch, and the Feds would assume his cover was blown and they would send in the cavalry.

Starsky slowed to a brisk walk and entered the dark phone booth, the single street lamp casting just enough light to illuminate the black numbers on the rotary dial while the adjacent trash-filled sidewalk remained in the shadows. He peered in every direction as he dialed the familiar number.

“Talk to me,” the smooth voice on the other end of the line said, drawing a breath of surprise from Starsky.

“I was expecting Huntley,” Starsky responded with a hushed tone as he pressed the mouthpiece tightly to his lips.

“I insisted on taking the call tonight, wanted to make sure you remembered what I sounded like before I meet Bennett tomorrow, or I should say before Michael Winchester does.”

Starsky chuckled to himself, not willing to share the absurdity of what Hutch said. No amount of time would cause Starsky to forget who Hutch was, or what he sounded like.

“So, has the rich playboy from Chicago been breaking hearts all over town?” Starsky knew the answer would be yes. On any given day, women would be all over Hutch if he was dressed in nothing but a burlap bag, never mind a well-dressed, wealthy playboy flashing his smile and money all across town.

“A rich guy spreading the word he wants to score a million dollars of cocaine. I’ve got some action in that area,” Hutch chuckled uneasily, “but it only goes so far, Starsk. I am a married man.’

“Hutch is a married man, but Michael Winchester is a single playboy. Be careful you don’t forget it.” Starsky wrapped his fingers around the steel telephone cable.

“Don’t worry mom, I know the role.” Hutch assured him. “What about you, are you going to be there tomorrow?

“Count on it, blondie. It didn’t take much for an ex-con from New York named Marvin Stern to get on Bennett’s good side. A few nights at their favorite hangouts throwing my superb accent and tough guy persona around got their attention pretty quickly. Bennett likes me, I’ll be there.”

“Well, Marvin, don’t get too cocky, okay? These guys are not your friends. They’ll blow your head off in a second if they find out you’re a cop.”

“I’ve got no intention of telling them. You just live up to your end of the bargain tomorrow. All you have to do is show up with a million in cash, and you’ll have him salivating. When the drugs and the cash are on the table, the Feds move in and it’s curtains for Teddy and his crew, and then they can cut a deal with him for his father.”

“You think Bennett will sell out his old man?”

“I don’t know, but the FBI seems to think so. Our job is to bring in Teddy Junior, it’s up to them to cut a deal with him against his daddy.”

“They want me to wear a wire tomorrow. What do you think, is Bennett paranoid enough to search me?”

Starsky paused and thought about it. “I doubt that Bennett will think about a wire, but he will have someone search you for weapons. Bring your gun, and offer it up voluntarily, that way you avoid the whole search thing. Worst case scenario, I’ll make sure I’m the one who searches you.”

“How do you figure you can control that?”

“I’ve earned myself a badass reputation the last few weeks. Bennett will use me for the search, I’m sure of it.”

There was silence on the other end. “Hutch, are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Hutch said softly. “Starsk?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

Starsky heard the line go dead.

Time was already up.

Chapter Five

Ted Bennett Junior was not a clever man. He relied on his family’s wealth and reputation, and like a defiant lion cub, would assert his supremacy by roaring boldly at his enemies behind his father’s menacing protection. The older Bennett’s power over his son created nothing but an arrogant and ruthless, yet weak and foolish man.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Bennett?” Starsky asked as he was ushered into the drug dealer’s office.

An old supplies warehouse housed Ted Bennett’s office, serving as a front for meetings and drug deals. Throughout the previous three weeks, Starsky had multiple opportunities to explore the entire structure and its surroundings. He was astounded by how simple it was to snoop around, just another example of how foolish Ted Junior and his group could be.

“Come in Stern,” Bennett instructed, waving him in. “You’ve been with us only a short time, but so far I like your style.”

Bennett sat with his legs propped on his desk, and chewed on a cigar. “You’ve met Jerry Jarrod, haven’t you Stern?” Bennett pointed to a tall, muscular man standing next to his desk, with thinning hair and several gold chains around his neck.

Starsky nodded. Jarrod was one of the first members of Bennett’s group he met three weeks ago, and he knew impressing Jarrod was essential to winning Bennett’s trust. In Bennett’s circle, there were no innocent bystanders, simply varying degrees of slime, and Starsky took them down one by one with ease.

“Jarrod assures me you can hold your own in a fight,” Bennett said.

“I don’t like losing,” Starsky said, nodding at Jarrod. “I make it a point never to let that happen.”

“That’s very good,” Bennett sat up straight. “I have a meeting in the warehouse in half an hour and I want you there. I need a man who’s quick on the draw if you know what I mean.”

“What kind of meeting?” Starsky asked casually.

“A man named Winchester from Chicago is coming to buy a boatload of cocaine. I want you and Jarrod there for muscle, in case there are any slip-ups.”

Starsky shuffled his feet, trying to calm himself. “What kind of slip-ups do you expect?”

“In case Winchester tries anything funny, like short-changing the cash. I won’t contact the delivery truck to bring the goods until we know the count is good.”

Starsky tried to recall all the conversations he had with Huntley in the past three weeks. They were all quick and mostly dealt with his progress with the gang or feeding names back to the Feds. They rarely discussed the money itself.

“I’ll be there, sir,” Starsky said.

“Good,” Bennett said. He placed his cigar in the ashtray, and rose from his chair, brushing off his suit as he left the room, “Don’t be late. And bring your weapon.”

*****

The warehouse had a concrete floor, with wall-to-wall racks of high shelving containing boxes and pallets and two entrances. The first entrance was a front door that led to an office corridor, and the second was a sizable bay door that opened to a back parking lot.

Bennett stood behind a long wooden table and faced the bay doors, flanked by his two men, Jarrod and Stern. The three men watched as a black sedan approached the loading area.

The driver put his car in park and turned off the ignition. He stepped out of the sedan and opened the back door, retrieving an item from the back seat.

Michael Winchester wore a pricey deep blue suit, a matching tie, a black hat with a broad brim, and an open-collared shirt with a handkerchief tucked into the front pocket. He slammed the car door and walked forward, swinging the briefcase in his hand.

“Stop right there,” Bennett instructed. Hutch halted just short of the table.

“Which one of you is Ted Bennett?” Hutch asked, knowing full well it was the man in the middle.

“Are you telling me you don’t recognize my face?” asked Bennett. “I recognize yours.” Bennett threw a copy of a photo onto the table.” Michael Winchester from Chicago.”

The photo showed Hutch standing at a bar, watching people on the dance floor. He was wearing black pants, a black leather jacket, and a lavender shirt. His hair was disheveled, and he was sipping a rum-colored drink with two beautiful women at his side.

“You’ve done your homework,” Hutch said, straining his neck to see the photo. “So have I.” Hutch lifted both hands in surrender, the briefcase hooked around his thumb. “I have a loaded piece in my inside jacket pocket which, as a gesture of goodwill, I will happily turn over right now. There’s no need for violence here, Bennett.”

Hutch locked eyes with the criminal, who said, “Get his weapon, Stern, and put it on the table in front of us, where we can all see it. Winchester can have it back when we’re done.”

Starsky walked slowly around the table and approached Hutch, stopping when they were toe to toe. He pressed his hands up and down Hutch’s torso, feeling for the gun. He opened Hutch’s jacket with a deliberate flare and retrieved the weapon from his left pocket. Starsky delicately grasped the gun before setting it on the table and returning to Bennett’s side.

“Put the briefcase on the table, Winchester,” Jarrod ordered.

Hutch turned to Bennett’s sidekick. “Aren’t you forgetting something? Where are the forty bricks of cocaine I’m expecting for my trouble?”

“That’s a lot of product, Winchester, over a hundred kilos. You can imagine we wouldn’t have that lying around here when it only takes less than a hundred grams to get busted for trafficking.” Bennett smirked as though he was the smartest man in the room.

“Well, I’m not leaving here without it, Bennett,” Hutch said.

Bennett raised his hands in a truce. “Don’t worry, Winchester. Once we square the cash, a driver will meet you outside with your purchase, and you can transfer it to your car.”

“Square the cash?” Hutch asked.

“Maybe that doesn’t translate to Chicago speak,” Bennett feigned patience. “We intend to count it, Winchester. You’ll get what you came for if it’s all there.”

Bennett waved a hand at Jarrod, who walked around the table towards Hutch. “The briefcase, please.”

“It’s all there,” Hutch said as he handed over the case. “But I’m insulted by your lack of trust. It doesn’t make for a good partnership.”

Jarrod stepped back to Bennett’s side and unhooked the briefcase’s clasp.

“Who told you this was a partnership, Winchester?” Starsky piped in, taunting. “It’s business, and we’re the bosses, not you.”

Hutch caught Starsky’s eyes. “So, the curly-haired not-so-inconsiderable brawn speaks? You’re right, this isn’t a partnership. It’s a transaction, and I’m the customer. Whatever happened to the customer always being right?”

Starsky watched Hutch’s expression and saw a warning in his eyes.

“Hang on Jarrod,” Bennett said, raising a hand. “Let Mr. Stern get into position first.”

Starsky tore his eyes away from Hutch and shivered under his jacket. He stepped around the table for the second time and walked slowly towards Hutch, stopping a few paces away.

“Move it, Stern, we don’t have all day,” Bennett ordered. “I have another five men waiting in the back if you’re not up to this.”

Starsky took another step and reached into the right side of his jacket for his gun. He took his eyes off Hutch for a moment to look down and take the safety off.

“Here’s how it’s going to go down, Winchester,” Bennett commanded from behind the table. “Mr. Jarrod will count the money while Mr. Stern holds his gun to your head.”

Starsky moved a step forward, while Bennett continued speaking.

“If Mr. Jarrod does not find exactly one million dollars in that case, Stern has been instructed to blow your head off without hesitation. And if Mr. Stern knows what’s good for him, he won’t hesitate.”

Starsky shuddered. The fact that he felt the wire hidden beneath Hutch’s clothing while searching for his gun gave him some consolation. The Feds had to be listening and they surely wouldn’t let it get that far.

Hutch focused on the man Bennett called Stern, looking him up and down.

“Does Bennett offer all employees such lucrative perks?” Hutch said his eyes locked on Starsky’s. “Or is this how you welcome everyone to your city?”

“Shut up Winchester,” Starsky spat. “As you said, there’s no need for violence, as long as everyone keeps their end of the deal.”

Starsky moved into position and lifted his gun against the blond’s head, a sweat forming on Hutch’s lip. Starsky faced him, his elbow elevated, the barrel pressed to Hutch’s brow, his finger poised on the trigger. The threatening gun dug into his forehead, leaving a mark on Hutch’s fair skin.

The warehouse was deafeningly silent except for the sound of Jarrod counting aloud, calling out his progress at each step.  “The top layer is twelve stacks, fifty bills in each stack, all one hundred dollar bills. That’s sixty-thousand dollars,” Jarrod announced.

Jarrod began counting the second layer.

Hutch stood still, sweat dripping from under his hat to his forehead, his chest rising and falling. Starsky stared intently as Hutch’s eyes fluttered in a series of rapid blinks.

“The second layer has the same twelve stacks, for another sixty-thousand,” Jarrod proclaimed loudly.

Starsky watched as Hutch shifted his gaze to the briefcase, then back to Starsky, then slid his eyes side to side in a negative motion.

Starsky blinked once, letting Hutch know he understood, his blood starting to boil.

Jarrod continued, “The third layer has…hold on, there’s a false bottom here. There are no more layers, the goddamn briefcase only has one hundred and twenty thousand in it!”

Jarrod turned the briefcase over and punched his hand through the bottom while Bennett took his eyes off Starsky to see for himself.

Hutch widened his eyes. It was the signal Starsky needed.

Starsky pulled the gun away from Hutch’s head and pointed it at Bennett. “Freeze. Police,” he gave the warning.

It was ignored.

Bennett drew his gun and fired toward Hutch who dropped and rolled under the table. Starsky fired back, his bullet hitting Bennett in his arm, forcing him to drop the gun to the floor.

Jarrod turned swiftly and tried to draw his weapon, but Starsky fired before he had a chance. The bullet hit Jarrod in the chest and he fell backward onto the concrete.

From under the table, Hutch reached up and grabbed his magnum. He fired it toward the legs that were running away, hitting Bennett in the kneecap, and the criminal fell next to Jarrod.

Hutch was up quickly, kicking away Bennett’s gun. Jarrod lay dead on the floor. Without any handcuffs, Hutch looked around and found plastic ties used to package parcels, and quickly secured Bennett’s hands behind his back.

Starsky ran toward him. “Hutch, where’s the cavalry? They must be listening to this.”

The door to the office burst open and a group of Bennett’s men who were waiting in the back charged through. Starsky grabbed Hutch and pulled him under the table.

“Follow me,” said Starsky, as they belly-crawled out of sight towards a wall of shelves and boxes.

“Where are the damn Feds?” Starsky whispered as they crawled. He looked over and saw blood flowing through Hutch’s shirt.

“Good question.” Hutch muttered, following close behind Starsky. “Where are we going?”

“As far away from the gunfire that’s about to start as possible. We may be good, but we’re outnumbered, and you’re injured.”

Starsky stopped crawling and moved a stack of boxes out of the way, uncovering a trap door hidden behind a rack of shelving.  He opened the door, revealing a staircase leading to a storage area below. “After you, blondie.”

Chapter Six

Hutch hurried down the stairs, followed by Starsky, who closed the trap door behind him. A sliver of light shone through the gap, enough to illuminate the outline of each other’s faces and bodies.

“Hutch, were you hit?”

“Yeah, I was hit when Bennett fired. It got me in the right arm, I think the bullet went right through.”

Starsky pulled the handkerchief from Hutch’s jacket pocket, opening his shirt to find the soaking wound. He guided Hutch to press the cloth against it with his other hand.

“It’s going to be okay, cavalry is coming, right?” Starsky said through a tight throat.

There was enough light through the door to see the wire taped to Hutch’s chest. Starsky peered at it closely. “I think the wire is damaged. When did that happen?”

“Must have been when I hit the floor,” Hutch said, panting through his words. “Same time I lost my hat.”

“You sure it wasn’t broken before that and the Feds didn’t hear any of this at all? Maybe that’s why they’re not here?”  Starsky’s voice was quiet but rattled. He could hear the shouts of Bennett’s men above them and the scurrying of feet across the floor.

“That’s possible,” Hutch said. “How many men are up there? We might have to fight our way out of here.”

“Bennett said there were five in the back office. Two of them were supposed to drive out and get the cocaine and bring it back once the money was counted. I don’t know if they left yet.”

“Why didn’t Bennett have it onsite when I got here? That’s what the Feds were expecting.”

“Because as stupid as Teddy boy is, he doesn’t allow more than a small quantity of drugs on the premises. Bennett and Jarrod would carry just enough for personal use, a couple of grams, nothing more. He was too afraid of his father to risk a reckless drug trafficking charge. The cash had to be a sure thing, and the drugs were always kept somewhere outside the warehouse.”

Starsky peered up at the trap door, trying to hear if anything was happening. “Why did the Feds short the cash, Hutch?”

“I have no idea,” Hutch said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought they knew what they were doing. Rookie mistake on my part.”

“Not your fault. You did your job, and you should be able to trust that everyone else knows what they’re doing. I guess we’re both learning what it’s like to work with the FBI, they’re not exactly a bevy of communication.”

Starsk shuffled around the darkness, crouching next to Hutch.  “Hey Hutch, you think the Feds aren’t here because they know the deal went sour? And they’re letting us burn instead of risking their chance to get Ted Senior?”

“Course not,” Hutch answered.

“Course not, you’re sure the Feds won’t do that and won’t let us burn, or of course not you’re not sure they would do that and would let us burn?” Starsky asked.

Hutch leaned his head against the wall. “Your convoluted way with words hasn’t changed since the Academy,” he snorted as he pressed the blood-soaked cloth against his arm. “I don’t know why they short-changed the cash, but can’t believe they would let us burn. Neither would Huntley or Dobey.”

Starsky nodded, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the cellar. “Hey, it’s quiet up there all of a sudden. Maybe we should go up, take our chances in a shootout.”

“I don’t know. Are you sure no one knows about this hiding place?” Hutch replied.

“Course not,” said Starsk.

“Course not, you’re sure they don’t know about it, or of course not you’re not sure they don’t know?”  Hutch asked.

Starsky rolled his eyes. “And you say I have a convalescent way with words.”

“Convoluted, Starsk, not convalescent,” Hutch said wryly.

Even in a dark cellar, with an unknown number of gunmen above them, their lives on the line, Hutch could make Starsky smile. “Course not, they don’t know about this hiding place,” Starsky said. “But I’ve been wrong before.”

“So have I,” Hutch chuckled. “I trust your instinct, Starsky. If you think we’re safe here, then it might be our best bet to wait for reinforcements instead of going out like Butch and Sundance in a shootout.”

Starsky looked at the blood seeping through Hutch’s sleeve, and he heard him wince as he applied pressure to the wound.  “No arguments from me.  How’s the arm?”

“Still attached,” Hutch muttered.

Starsky rested next to Hutch as adrenaline coursed through him. They sat in the dark, two silhouettes side by side, elbows brushing and knees touching, straining to hear any activity above.

“Maybe it’s about self-preservation,” Starsky said quietly, breaking the silence.

“Maybe what’s about self-preservation?” Hutch replied, one hand on his wound, his magnum within reach at his feet.

“The saying you learned from your mother. Birds of a feather flock together until the cat comes,” Starsky said as if it should have been clear.

“What about it?”

“Maybe it’s not about fair-weather friends at all,” Starsky continued. “Maybe it’s about trying to preserve what means the most to you. It could mean that people associate with others who have similar interests and traits, but when something bad happens, like the cat, they pull away and fight the threat on their own to survive, you know, for self-preservation purposes.”

“Have you been thinking a lot about this?” Hutch’s tone was hushed.

“The saying?” Starsky asked.

“No, self-preservation,” Hutch answered.

Starsky stared at the dark wall in front of him. “I’ve been thinking about how a person who comes up against a threat would naturally want to protect what’s most important to them.”

“What kind of threat, exactly?” Hutch whispered.

“Like a threat to a friendship,” Starsky responded softly.

Hutch’s breathing filled the air. Starsky looked over and saw his face through slits of light, confusion, and dejection flowing from his features.

“You were trying to preserve our friendship, and you thought pulling away was the solution?” Hutch asked, more sadness than anger in his voice. “And Vanessa was the threat?”

“Here, take this, that handkerchief is soaked,” Starsky said as he removed his jacket and folded it into a ball. He carefully withdrew Hutch’s hand and replaced it with his own, pressing his coat on the wound.

“Not Vanessa, specifically I swear,” Starsky said, leaning into Hutch’s body to apply more pressure. “I wasn’t trying to preserve just a friendship. I was trying to preserve something more.”

“What could mean more than friendship? To me, it’s everything,” Hutch said, with a pained reply.

“I thought someday we could have more than a friendship,” Starsky tried to catch Hutch’s gaze. He thought either there was a spark of understanding in the blue eyes that pierced through the darkness, or, the shadows were playing tricks on him.

For so long, his love for Hutch stirred Starsky’s insides, and filled his dreams with images of blond hair against his cheek, of wide, soft lips that beckoned him in his sleep, of crystal blue eyes that shone brightly with love.

Starsky fought the lump in his throat.

Having Hutch at his side was something he didn’t want to lose, not ever again. Nothing would come in the way of their friendship, not Vanessa, not the job, and definitely not his feelings. Those feelings had to stay tucked away a while longer.  Maybe one day the time would be right, but today was about rebuilding trust.

“The chance for a lifelong partnership,” Starsky added softly.

It may not have been the whole truth, but it was true. It was what Starsky wanted the most with Hutch – a partnership on the streets, and a partnership in life.

“You have a weird sense of timing, bringing this up now when we’ve potentially been abandoned and left to fend for ourselves against a gang of gun-happy drug dealers,” Hutch replied.

“It was on my mind,” Starsky shrugged, trying to hide his pounding heart. He received a small chuckle from Hutch as his reward.

“Do me a favor, Starsk. If you ever feel threatened by anything again, big or small, you’ll come to me, and we can talk it over, ok?”

“I promise,” Starsky choked a reply.

“Good,” Hutch said, exhaling deeply. “I missed you the past few years. A lot.” He paused, nodding. “Maybe I’ll convince you to like Jazz yet.”

Starsky’s heart melted. “Don’t count on it, blondie.” He closed his eyes in relief. They would get out of this cellar alive, he was sure of it. This was the day for new beginnings.

His next thoughts were cut off by the sounds of sirens blaring and voices shouting, “Freeze Police,” from all directions.

“It’s the cavalry,” Starsky rose from the cement floor. “They’ve got some explaining to do. Hang on, Hutch.”

Starsky climbed the stairs and carefully pushed the trap door open, letting the light shine down. He poked his head out of the cellar and looked around, seeing a flurry of uniformed cops securing the scene. “Coast is clear, freedom awaits.”

“We couldn’t have been down there more than ten minutes,” Hutch snorted, his hand still clutching his wound.

“A lot can happen in ten minutes,” Starsky said, reaching down to help Hutch up the stairs. “Come on, blondie, let’s get out of here.”

*****

“Hutchinson, Starsky!” A familiar voice boomed in the background. “Where are you?”

“Over here, captain,” Starsky hollered as he slammed the trap door shut.

Dobey hurried around the corner. “Paramedic!” he called out, seeing the blood on Hutch’s clothes.

“What happened, captain? What took you so long? Where are the Feds?” Starsky asked.

“It’s a long story and I’ll tell it back at the office. Are you hurt, Starsky?”

“No, just Hutch. He was shot in the arm.”

The paramedics appeared and started attending to Hutch. “Where’s Luke?” Hutch asked through the fussing.

“He’s around here somewhere,” Dobey answered. “Starsky, why don’t you go find him and let him know Hutch is going to the hospital.”

“I was planning to go in the ambulance with Hutch, captain.”

“No can do, Starsky. We need someone here to help secure the scene. Hutch will be well taken care of.”

“Go on Starsk, I’ll be fine. Tell Luke it’s just a scratch, will you?”

Starsky gave a short nod. ‘Sure thing, buddy.” He tore his eyes away and took off to find Huntley.

*****

Starsky found Huntley in the back of the warehouse, hunched over the dead body of Jerry Jarrod.

“Did they call the coroner’s wagon yet, or should I take care of that?” Starsky asked, approaching Luke who was pulling a handkerchief over the dead man’s face.

“It’s been taken care of,” Luke responded. “Bennett’s been taken by ambulance to the hospital with four armed guards. On the way out, he sure had a few choice words to say about you, or should I say, Marvin Stern.”

“I’m sure he did, Starsky said, looking at the blood-stained floor. “What about the rest of his merry men?”

“All five have been apprehended,” Luke said.

Starsky listened to Luke explain what happened, not believing how incredibly inexperienced and cocky Bennett and his team proved to be.

“One man was found locked in Bennett’s office, too afraid to come out after the deal went sour,” Huntley said. “Two were captured running on foot in the field behind the warehouse, and two were found inside the warehouse taking orders from an injured Bennett who was writhing on the ground with his hands tied behind his back.”

Starsky nodded. “Listen, Hutch was injured, shot in the arm. He’s on his way to the hospital.”

Luke’s face shot up. “Is Kenny okay? Where’s the ambulance? I should ride with him. He hates hospitals, and I pity the poor nursing staff that has to listen to him whine about needles.”

“I wanted to ride with him, but Dobey gave me orders to stay back and help secure the scene. If you want to go, I can stay and do that,” Starsky offered. Hutch was Huntley’s partner, even if it was only temporary, and he belonged by his side.

Luke stood straight and looked Starsky up and down. “What about you? Are you hurt? You look like you’ve seen better days.”

Starsky looked down at his clothes. His jeans were torn, his shirt sleeve was covered in Hutch’s blood, and he had no idea how his face looked.

“I’m not hurt, this is Hutch’s blood,” his voice was strangled. “Must have happened when I was trying to stop the bleeding.”

“You should go to the hospital, check on Hutch and make sure he’s behaving himself,” Huntley said. “Get checked over too.  I’ll clear it with Dobey. Go on it’s okay,” he persisted.

Starsky looked gratefully at Luke. He didn’t want to be anywhere else than at Hutch’s side. “You sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll finish securing the scene and gathering the evidence. You take care of yourself and my partner.”

Starsky turned on his heels and fled out the door, commandeering a black and white and headed to the hospital.

Chapter Seven

The busy squad room buzzed with the familiar sounds of phones and typewriters. It had been one month since the undercover operation, and Starsky sat on the back of his chair, a cup of hot coffee in his hands, thoughts of setting a lunch date with Hutch warming his insides as much as the hot liquid.  He and Hutch got together several times lately, sometimes to talk about the Bennett case, but more often just to hang out as friends.

“Starsky,” Dobey said from his office door. “I need to see you in my office.”

Starsky placed his cup on his desk and hopped off the chair.

“Have a seat,” the captain offered. “I want to update you on the Bennett case. Ted Junior sang like a canary and cut a deal with the Feds. He turned over enough evidence on his father on drug and murder charges to put him away for life and in return, Ted Junior got eleven years in prison.”

Starsky nodded his understanding. That at least was some good news.

“That’s good to hear, but I don’t know if I’ll ever trust working with the Feds again, Captain. Not after how they shorted the cash like that and then left Hutch and me to die in that warehouse.”

“Believe me, I’m livid too, Starsky. The Feds were expecting drugs at the drop, not some delivery truck at an unknown location. The original plan was to bust in before the cash was even counted. Stupid and risky move on their part. I assure you, I didn’t know about it.”

Starsky heard the sincerity in Dobey’s voice, knowing he would never have put his men in unreasonable jeopardy.

“They were worried they wouldn’t have enough evidence to make the case stick and convict Ted Senior,” Dobey continued, “and any opportunity for a future setup would be shot.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m just glad you and Huntley didn’t listen to them.”

“They had the nerve to argue with me at first, but I overruled them. My men come first, and always will. I’m just glad you and Hutchinson kept your heads in there,” Dobey replied. “It all worked out anyway. With the thirty grams of cocaine found on Jarrod’s dead body, it was enough to threaten Bennett with a drug trafficking charge and strike the deal.”

Starsky’s head shot up. “They found thirty grams of cocaine on Jarrod’s body? That’s news to me.”

“It’s all in Huntley’s report,” Dobey said smiling, “and one more thing – good job, detective.”

Starsky stood up. “Thanks, captain”

“Now, get out of here and get back to work.”

Starsky headed back to his desk, a nagging thought at the back of his mind. He walked over to the cabinet, pulled the Bennett file, and sat back down, rummaging through the folder to find a copy of Huntley’s report.

There it was, in black and white.  =Huntley wrote that police found a bag containing thirty grams of cocaine in Jarrod’s pocket, typed in shorthand as ‘30g.’

Starsky scratched his head. From what he knew about Bennett, the criminal would not have allowed even that much product on-site and risk a drug trafficking charge. He was stupid, but not reckless, and certainly not an idiot that would make his father angry.  Jarrod was his right-hand man. Why would he risk going against that?”

Starsky held the report up and read it again. He skipped to the end and saw the two signatures scrawled at the bottom, Luke Huntley and Kenneth Hutchinson. Working together under Captain Reilly, they filed the report jointly and both signed off on it.

Starsky studied the report even more closely. The number thirty looked like it was off kilter with the rest of the letters on the page. It was like the zero in thirty was raised a fraction too high compared to the three in front of it, like when you make a typo in a report and go back with whiteout and it’s virtually impossible to get the correction exactly lined up with the original text.

Starsky’s eyes shot up.

He dropped the paper back into the file and pulled the phone toward him, dialing the familiar number.

“I need to see you,” Starsky said to the man on the phone. “Meet me at Huggy Bear’s restaurant in twenty minutes. And come alone.”

He put the file under his arm, grabbed his jacket, and sprinted out the door.

*****

Starsky sat in a booth at the back of the restaurant. He told Huggy he was expecting someone, and to have the waitress leave them alone while they talked.

The front door swung open, and the silver-haired man entered, making his way past the busy lunch crowd to the back.

“Hello, Luke. Have a seat,” Starsky said. “I took the liberty of ordering us each an iced coffee.” Starsky gestured to the two cold drinks on the table. “Where does Hutch think you are right now?”

“Hutch didn’t come to work today. He had a meeting with a divorce lawyer downtown.”

Starsky swallowed. He knew that day was coming but didn’t know it was here so soon. He would have to remember to take some beer and pizza to Hutch’s place later.

Luke sat in the seat opposite Starsky. “What’s this all about Starsky? And why the secrecy from Hutch?”

“Ok, straight to business.” Starsky’s threatening eyes fixed on Huntley. He pushed his drink out of the way and slapped a file on the table between them. “Care to explain why you planted thirty grams of cocaine on the dead body of Jerry Jarrod?”  Starsky ordered.

“Excuse me?” Luke snapped back, his brow furrowed. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Starsky maintained his stare and spoke slowly.

“You planted,” he pulled the report out of the folder, “thirty grams.” He turned the paper around so Luke could read it.

”Of cocaine.” His eyes met Luke’s.

“On the dead body,” he watched Luke squirm in his seat.

“Of Jerry Jarrod.” Starsky’s stern expression mirrored his tone.

“And, if that wasn’t bad enough,” Starsky added, “you had Hutch sign a falsified report which mentioned only three grams, then went back and inserted a zero without Hutch’s knowledge.”

Starsky watched Luke’s face turn gray. “You’ve got ten seconds to explain or I go straight to Dobey with this, Huntley.”

Luke leaned against the wooden booth. “You can’t be serious,” the older man said.

“I’m more serious than a dead man walking,” Starsky retorted. “Now quit wasting time, why did you do it?”

Huntley scanned the room, hunching forward. “The Feds were hanging you guys out to dry. If it wasn’t for your captain, who knows how it would have ended? I was fuming, same as Dobey, and I wasn’t going to let the case go out the window.”

“A notch in your belt for arresting Bennett didn’t hurt either, did it?” Starsky asked.

“It wasn’t about that, believe me,” Huntley said through clenched teeth. “I love Kenny like family. At that moment I didn’t know if he was alive or dead, and I wasn’t going to let him die for nothing.”

“Do you always put the career of your so-called family on the line without their knowledge, Huntley?”

Huntley flinched. “You think you’re so smart? If you go to Dobey with this, not only will Bennett’s case be in jeopardy, but you’ll be sinking Hutch along with me. Don’t get me wrong, the last thing I want is for Hutch to get in trouble here, but his signature is on that report, the same as mine. If you keep your mouth shut, no one has to know.”

“You made sure the report Hutch signed said three grams because you knew I told Hutch all about Bennett’s hard and fast rules. Hutch signed a legitimate report that you falsified after the fact. How will he be in trouble?”

“You’re a good cop, Starsky, so don’t be naive. Internal Affairs will never believe that Hutch didn’t know, even if I swear to it.  Hutch will be in as much trouble as me.”

Starsky’s temper boiled. He knew Luke was right, that Internal Affairs would beat this case to the ground given the chance. Even if Hutch was cleared, his reputation would be dragged over the coals and ruined.

“You do this a lot, Huntley? Plant evidence, falsify reports, and get Hutch to unknowingly sign off?”

“Of course not,” Huntley said defensively. “I’m not saying this is the first time, but I swear on my wife’s life that it’s not a regular thing, only if the evidence against a known criminal needs a little greasing. I never set up an innocent person, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, that’s something then,” Starsky’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “It’s not your job to decide who’s guilty and who’s innocent. That’s up to a jury.”

Huntley looked Starsky straight in the eye, defensiveness replaced by a look of resignation. “You’ll see. Someday you’ll be on the force long enough to see criminals get off on technicalities. You’ll be sick of it, just like me, and if the opportunity presents itself, you’ll do what you can to make sure it doesn’t happen.”

Starsky almost felt sorry for the older cop. He was a third-grade detective, already outranked by his former mentee. He was a tough and scrappy cop who hit the jackpot when he got Hutch as a trainee.

“Of course, it’s a bonus to have a stellar arrest record too, and with Hutch working cases with you, that’s a sure thing,” Starsky snarled. “That’s why you always requested Captain Reilly to assign Hutch to your cases. You couldn’t care less if you ruin his career in the process.”

“None of this will ever touch him if we don’t let it,” Huntley seethed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done anything questionable to make sure a case sticks.”

Starsky scowled and shook his head. “No way and I would never in a million years put my partner’s life and reputation on the line. How could you do that to someone you claim to care about?”

“I love Kenny like my own son. But he can be a real Boy Scout sometimes. He needs to toughen up a little more, and when he does, no one can stop him.”

“Hutch is the toughest cop I know, so don’t call him that,” Starsky said.

“Call him what?” Huntley demanded.

“A boy scout. It makes him sound like he’s some goodie-two-shoes who can’t hack it on the streets. Hutch has integrity and compassion and abides by the law, no question. But he’s also tough and hard-nosed when he has to be. And he’s the most loyal person you’ll ever have the privilege of calling your partner.”

“At least we can agree on that. Think about what I said, Starsky. Bennett is guilty as the day is long, you know it and I know it.”

Huntley combed his graying hair with his palm, before grabbing a napkin and wiping his sweaty brow.

“The same goes for his father.” Huntley added, “It doesn’t matter about the thirty grams on Jarrod’s body, there was enough cocaine found in the delivery truck to sink the entire outfit from here to New York. If you expose this, there’s a risk the case goes out the window and Hutch goes down with it. That’s your choice right now. I need you to let it go, more importantly, that’s what Hutch needs.”

Starsky wanted to punch the older cop in the face. “If I could figure out what you did, who’s to say no one else will?”

“Because you are the only person who went under with Bennett and would know how strict he was about having drugs on the premises. No one else except Hutch, not even the Feds, would catch that thirty grams was out of the ordinary.”

Starsky stayed silent. If he wanted to protect Hutch, the only option was to let this go, at least for now.

“I’ll keep it to myself, for Hutch’s sake and Hutch’s sake alone.” Starsky reached over and grabbed a fistful of Huntley’s collar. “But if you ever even think about putting him in jeopardy again, you’ll be dealing with me, and there ain’t no person in the world can help you then. Got that?”

Huntley visibly shook as Starsky let go of his shirt.

“One more thing, Huntley. If you ask me, there’s only one thing Hutch needs.”

“Yeah,” Luke said, straightening his tie. “What’s that?”

“A better partner.”

Starsky tossed some money on the table, grabbed the paperwork, and stormed out the door.

Chapter Eight

1981

The head that was nestled against him pulled away, rising anger filling the air.  Starsky sank into his pillow as Hutch planted his feet on the floor and grabbed his sweatpants.

“Where are you going?” Starsky asked quietly, hoping the answer would be back to bed.

“I have to think about everything you just told me,” Hutch said, pulling each leg of his pants on, and hopping into them, “About Luke, what he did, all of it.”

“So come back to bed and think here, next to me. Let me help,” Starsky said, wishing the conversation didn’t have to happen, but knowing there was no other choice.

“I can’t think when I’m lying next to you in bed, not about this,” Hutch said emphatically.

“What’s there to think about Hutch?” Starsky asked, pulling on his thin cotton sweats. “Luke did what he did, and there’s nothing you can do to change that fact.” He followed Hutch to the kitchen. “Or the fact that he thought of you like a son. He loved you, remember that.”

“He loved me so much that he lied to me?” Hutch’s eyes were moist. “Planted evidence? Had me sign falsified reports without my knowledge? How is that love?”

Hutch paced the apartment, lapping around the sofa.

“Hutch, it makes me as mad as you, thinking about how Luke took the unethical path more than once. I don’t know how many times he did that, but he said it wasn’t very often if that matters to you. He once swore to me he was never going to do it again, and I for one believe he stuck to that.”

“Once is more than enough,” said Hutch, landing on the sofa. “I understood his motivation when it came to the Reuben case. He was only trying to protect Doris. But before that? Don’t tell me I needed so much protection that he had to lie and cheat our way to a solid arrest record.”

Starsky sat down and cupped Hutch’s chin, turning his face toward him.

“All of those arrests were real, Hutch, and were the result of your hard work and brains. Don’t you ever forget how good of a cop you were back then, and are today. I mean it.”

Hutch withdrew, slouching forward with his head in his hands. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy. Clearly, Luke didn’t agree.”

Starsky rubbed Hutch’s back, his voice hushed in sympathy. “What Luke did had nothing to do with you, Hutch. It had everything to do with Luke. He had all the confidence in the world in you, but not in himself. Either he didn’t have the skills, or didn’t believe in himself enough to get by without cutting corners, can’t you see that?”

Hutch looked up, his eyes full of hurt and need. Starsky reached out and pulled him into an embrace. “I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you these things. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I loved him. Now I don’t know what to think.”

“Think about all the good things he taught you. There were a lot of them, you told me the stories and they were true,”  Starsky reminded him. “Focus on that.”

Hutch pulled back, his unblinking eyes fixed on Starsky. “It’s not fair that you had to carry this all these years. Luke should never have done that to you.”

“Maybe I should have told you sooner, I don’t know. I didn’t think it was my place to tell you, I hoped Luke would come clean on his own. He owed you that, but he was too much of a coward to do it.”

“You were protecting me,” Hutch said, his gaze sinking to his lap. “I would have done the same for you.”

“In time, you’ll come to terms with this, I’m sure of it,” Starsky said softly. He resumed massaging Hutch’s back, the tension still palpable.

Hutch shook his head, the pain of betrayal etched on his face, “How many more cases did he do this?  How many times was I involved in planting evidence?”

“Zero times,” Starsky said firmly. “You were never part of it, you had no knowledge this was going on.”

“But my signature is on those reports, how many of them were there?” Hutch was up on his feet again. He stormed toward the greenhouse and stretched an arm against the window pane.

Starsky followed Hutch from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Hutch, what are you going to do, huh? Are you going to pull all the cases you and Huntley worked on together? Even back to your rookie days? I can’t even count how many files that would be.”

Hutch’s head bowed, and Starsky tightened his embrace.

“Even if by some miracle you were able to get your hands on all of them,” Starsky continued, “and you reviewed them with a fine tooth comb, do you think you could spot the ones where evidence was planted or changed?”

Starsky didn’t get a response.

“And even if you found a suspicious file, how would you prove it? And if you by some miracle did prove it, do you want to risk putting some scumbag back on the street after all these years? Not to mention putting your career on the line….”

Hutch turned around, his eyes wet, and his shoulders sagging.

“Please, let this go,” Starsky pleaded.

Hutch hung his head, “I need to sleep on it,” he said.

Starsky took his hand and led him back to bed, pulling the covers over Hutch’s body, and sliding in beside him. “Good idea, let’s sleep on it.”

He lay awake until he heard Hutch drift off to sleep, hoping for Hutch’s sake, the pain was beginning to subside.

*****

Two weeks later

“What’s taking Dobey so long?” Starsky asked, fidgeting in a side chair in the captain’s office.

“He said to wait in his office for him, so that’s what we do,” Hutch said. “You know, you don’t have to be here. I kept your name out of this entirely.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else right now and you know it,” Starsky assured him. “I still don’t know why you had to open up the Bennett report to Dobey. It’s been ten years, and Ted Bennett Junior and Senior are in prison, where they belong.”

“I may never know what other reports Luke falsified, but I do know about this one,” Hutch answered. “I couldn’t let it go.  I’m sorry.”

The door opened and Dobey walked into his office, shutting the door behind him.

“Good, you’re here,” Dobey addressed Hutch, adding. “Starsky, this has nothing to do with you, so don’t feel you must sit through this.”

Starsky gave Dobey the same ‘where else would I be’ look he gave Hutch moments before.

“Very well, you’re going to find out anyways,” Dobey said. “Hutch, the information you gave about the Bennett file has been reviewed by the Feds, the District Attorney, and Bennett’s lawyer.”

“What’s the verdict, captain?” Hutch said with a brief nod. “Am I suspended, fired, or arrested, what’s the damage?”

Starsky winced at the tension in Hutch’s voice.

“None of the above,” Dobey answered. “All parties reviewed the notation showing thirty grams of cocaine being found on Jarrod’s body. All came to the same conclusion. The report might have been doctored, but there was no way to prove it. Both Jerry Jarrod and Luke Huntley are dead, and there is no way to interrogate two dead men about how much cocaine was actually on Jarrod’s body.”

Dobey stopped and inhaled before continuing.

“All three agreed that even if Huntley were alive today and confessed to planting evidence, it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference to the case. There was too much other evidence against Ted Junior, and his father, that re-opening the case based on this wouldn’t change a thing.”

Dobey leaned back in his chair, adding, “Bennett’s lawyer took it to his client, and even Ted Junior didn’t want to re-open the case. He has one year left before he is out on parole, and he knows re-opening this now could lead to other, more incriminating evidence coming out, not to mention jeopardizing his father’s life sentence, something Ted Junior does not want to mess with.”

Dobey folded his hands on the desk, indicating he was finished.

“So, I’m not in trouble?” Hutch asked, stunned.

“Why would you be in trouble, Hutchinson? Did you plant evidence at any time on the body of Jerry Jarrod, or anyone else, ever in your career?”

“No, absolutely not. But my signature is on that report and I just thought…”

“I know what you thought, and I admire you for it. It’s one of the reasons I know you would never compromise your integrity on the job. And that goes for your partner here too. Now get out of here both of you, I don’t want to hear any more about Ted Bennett.”

Starsky patted Hutch’s arm as they both stood. “Yes sir,” Hutch replied.

“And Hutch?” Dobey said.

“Yes, captain,” Hutch said, turning.

“I am sorry about Luke Huntley. He may have lost his way, but he cared about you, that much I can say for sure. In my book, he did alright bringing you through the ranks. We can always thank him for that.”

“Thank you, sir. That means a lot.”

“Amen to that,” Starsky patted Hutch on the back.

Hutch broke into a gleaming smile, and Starsky fell happily under its spell, his world once again restored.

*****

That night, their lovemaking was filled with passion and devotion, and awe-inspiring love. It was all the reasons for making love melded into one and Starsky could not get enough of it.

Their eyes seared together upon climax, and their bodies surged like lightning rods sparking against a metal tower.

“I love you,” Starsky murmured. Hutch muffled a cry of love in return and toppled over, landing on Starsky’s pillow.

Starsky was in bliss, memorizing the way Hutch’s fingers felt against his chest. All of his senses were alert and savoring life’s sweet fruits—a life he had always yearned for and a future well worth the wait.

“Don’t think the other thing you told me has been forgotten,” Hutch murmured in his ear, caressing Starsky’s hair.

Starsky’s eyes flew open. “What other thing?” he asked, raising his head from the pillow.

Hutch settled in and kissed Starsky’s shoulder. “I’m talking about how you had feelings for me since the Academy. Why did you not tell me that before?”

“Oh, that,” Starsky said, falling back on his pillow. “It’s not that I was keeping it from you, it simply didn’t come up in the last two years. I loved you as a friend and partner, and the rest was something I learned to live with over the years.”

“Is that why you distanced yourself after the Academy? It really wasn’t just because you didn’t like Vanessa?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t think Vanessa was right for you. But it wasn’t because of her. I was scared and thought I would get over my feelings for you if I gave it time, but it almost cost me our friendship.” Starsky swallowed the knot in his throat. “I’m so glad you gave us another chance.”

“What choice did I have? I missed you too much,” Hutch said tenderly. “I was never angry, just lost and empty all those years.”

Hutch resumed stroking Starsky’s chest and pulled him closer.

“One thing I don’t understand,” Hutch whispered. “If you felt that way all those years, why was it me who made the first move that night when the sprinklers went off?”

They had been celebrating, even Dobey and Huggy had more than their usual number of drinks. No wonder none of them stopped Huggy from hanging the lantern from the sprinkler. Under normal conditions, if pain pills or alcohol or simply the high of life weren’t dulling their senses, someone would have noticed before they got soaked to the skin. But that was not a normal night.

Instead of anger, the room filled with laughter, the intoxication of being alive could not be drowned away. After the nurses sent everyone home and moved Starsky to a new room, settled him into a dry bed to sleep, Hutch snuck back in. He sat on the bed, ran his fingers through Starsky’s hair, and just like that, kissed him on the mouth.

“Is that the result of too much alcohol?” Starsky asked when they came up for air. He hoped it wasn’t, the elation he felt from that one small kiss extended through his whole body.

“No,” Hutch grinned. “Alcohol is not the reason, although I was planning to use it as an excuse if you had decked me in the face.”

Hutch’s eyes wandered to the heart monitor, the intravenous bag, and the rest of the equipment surrounding Starsky’s bed. “I wish I had kissed you before now, so you wouldn’t think all this is the reason either. I wish I could tell you the first moment I knew I loved you, but it feels like it may have been forever.”

Starsky pulled him down and kissed him again. There was nothing more to say.

Starsky teased Hutch at the memory. “As I said, it was all your idea. Of course, you didn’t get any arguments from me.”

“I wish I had known you felt that way all that time,” Hutch said, chuckling. “We could have had those years together.”

“Maybe, or maybe the timing wasn’t right. We’ll never know, and there’s no point in looking back, only forward.”

Hutch nodded. “Is there anything else you’ve forgotten to tell me, either now, or in the last fifteen years?”

Starsky cupped his chin and tapped his mouth, thinking. “Hmm, come to think of it, there is one more thing.”

Hutch propped himself up on an elbow, an inquiring eyebrow arched. “You’re not going to tell me you actually like Jazz, are you? For your information, I won’t buy it for a minute.”

“I keep telling you if you can’t dance to Jazz music, what’s the point?”

“Out with it, what could possibly be left unsaid between us?” Hutch smiled.

Starsky cleared his throat, ensuring Hutch’s undivided attention. “Did I ever tell you that I almost got partnered with Simmons instead of you?”

“What?” Hutch exclaimed. “Are you talking about when I first came to the department? Dobey asked if I wanted to partner with you, and I jumped at the chance. Are you saying you didn’t choose me?”

“Of course I chose you. You’re here, aren’t you? I’m just saying I may have hesitated at first is all.”

“Hesitated?” Hutch asked, shocked. His mouth covered Starsky’s lips and they kissed, not coming up for breath until lack of oxygen demanded it. “Would Simmons ever kiss you like that?”

“I sure hope not, he’s not my type,” Starsky grinned. “Although I always thought he had a nice smile.”

“I think it’s time I make you forget all about Simmons,” Hutch mimicked a look of horror. He laughed and rolled on top of Starsky, rewarding him with a fervent kiss.

Starsky shut out the rest of the world. There was no changing the past, all decisions lead him where he was supposed to be.  Right next to Hutch, his partner for life.

Chapter Nine

1972

Starsky smiled to himself as another Monday morning in the busy squad room of Metro began to unfold.

Six months had gone by since Bennett was arrested and put away, along with his father and their entire operation. It was exhilarating to be part of such a successful undercover bust, and especially to share the celebration with Hutch. Luke Huntley was given full credit too, and Starsky managed to keep his silence as he promised he would.

A few weeks after the case wrapped up, Luke called Starsky at his apartment.

“Hello?” Starsky said, running into his apartment with groceries in his arms.

“Starsky, it’s Luke,” the voice on the phone announced. “I found your phone number on Hutch’s desk. Hope you don’t mind if I call you at home.”

Starsky placed the bags down on the counter. “Go ahead,” he said.

“I wanted to tell you I thought about what you said. I know it was wrong what I did, and I was especially wrong to involve Hutch.  I’ll never do it again, no matter how bad I want an arrest to stick.”

“You called to confess your sins to me Huntley? Why do you think I give a damn?” Starsky pulled at the coiled telephone cord as he peered out the window.

“Because we have something in common. We both love Hutch. I owe you thanks for protecting him like I never could, and for keeping me in a good light with him. I don’t expect you to ever like me, but it matters to me that Hutch does.”

Starsky heard the regret in Huntley’s voice. Whether Luke kept his promise to keep things clean from now on, Starsky couldn’t know for sure, but his gut told him he was sincere.

Starsky thought about all Hutch had gone through. He was off work for a few weeks while his arm healed, then he had to deal with his divorce. Last month, Vanessa came to town one last time, and they signed the papers. 

If keeping Luke’s secret was what was best for Hutch, that was what he would do.  

“Starsky, get in my office,” Dobey yelled from his doorway with his customary Monday morning greeting. Starsky shook off his thoughts and jumped to his captain’s orders.

“Have a seat, detective,” Dobey instructed. “First of all, congratulations are in order.”

Starsky tilted his head. “For what?”

“For being promoted to detective, first-grade,” Dobey said.

Starsky beamed. “Really?  I got promoted?” He wanted to jump out of the chair and call Hutch. Hutch told him over a game of pool the week before that he also had been promoted to first-class detective. He knew Hutch would be as excited for him as he was for Hutch.

“Before you go celebrating, I have something for you,” Dobey said, handing Starsky three manila envelopes. “I want you to look at each one of these and give me a decision.”

“A decision about what?” Starsky asked, holding the three envelopes on his lap.

“I’m putting together an undercover detective Zebra unit. I have four first-class detectives in mind right now, and I need to decide who to partner together. Because you did such a good job on the Bennett case, I’m giving you the first choice of who you want for a partner.”

Starsky stopped short of yelling in excitement. He opened the top envelope.

Mike Babcock made a first-grade detective two years ago—a good guy.

The second envelope contained a photo of Steve Simmons, the same age as Babcock, and an excellent cop as well.

He opened the third envelope, his heart racing at what he hoped he would see. Ken Hutchinson, detective first grade.  Starsky could barely contain a smile.

“Pick a partner, Starsky. If that person agrees, he will be your new partner in the Zebra unit. You’ll both be commissioned under me as your captain, and I’ll assign you territory within Metro. You’ll work as lead detectives on homicide, vice, and any other cases that I deem fit for you both.”

Starsky stared at Hutch’s headshot. He was stunning, his face solemn, yet his blue eyes shone brilliantly with determination and honesty. Starsky thought about all the years he knew Hutch, and how his feelings for him began to evolve when they first met at the Academy. He loved him with all his heart and was ashamed of himself for allowing the friendship to deteriorate over the past few years. Most of all, Starsky thought about how badly he wanted to be partners with him.

“I, uh, I choose Steve Simmons,”  Starsky could barely meet Dobey’s eyes.

Dobey looked up, surprised. “It’s up to you, but I suppose I thought you’d go for Hutchinson, given how well you two worked on the Bennett case. Hutch’s captain knows he’s up for this position and so does Huntley. They both have nothing but high praise for Hutch and support his transfer to Metro wholeheartedly.”

Starsky nodded, fiddling with the envelopes on his lap. “Can I ask you a question? Is it a bad idea to become partners with someone that you care about more than… ” Starsky paused to choose his words carefully. “More than your own brother?”

Dobey sat back in his chair. “Not all partners care about each other that much. Some do, others just have a friendly relationship but nothing more, and others can’t stand each other. I’ve seen it all. One thing I know, and I’m speaking from experience, if you have a chance to work with a partner you truly care about, it’s the grand prize. It comes about once in a lifetime if you’re lucky. Sure, it can be tough to care about someone that much, but love is a sweet reward in this line of work. That I guarantee.”

Starsky tried to contain the moisture in his eyes. “I changed my mind, sir. I choose Hutch.”

Dobey smiled. “I thought you might say that. Of course, I’ll need to clear it with Hutch, but assuming he says yes, he’ll be your new partner.”

“Don’t tell Hutch about this, okay? That I hesitated? I only did that because it scared me, you know?”

“Tell him what?” Dobey said, a curve forming in his mouth. “I’m the one making the final decisions around here. Now get out of here,” he said dismissing Starsky with a good-natured wave of the hand.

Starsky stood up and placed the envelopes on Dobey’s desk. “Thank you, sir.”

He spun around and left the office, closing the door with a hook of his foot. A broad smile formed across Starsky’s face as he paused and inhaled deeply, the bustling activity of the crowded squad room fading into the background, and hopes for the road ahead shining brighter than ever before.

END