,DARK MOON RISING
Starsky is accused of murder and sentenced to death row. Can Hutch prove his innocence before it's too late? Warning: some graphic scenes of violence. Do not read any further if this topic offends you.
CHAPTER 1
David Starsky whistled under his breath as he stepped out of the shower and toweled off briskly. Wrapping the towel snugly around his slender waist, he stepped up to the sink and finished his morning routine by shaving and brushing his teeth. When he finished, his hair was dry enough to run a brush through his thick dark curls.
He walked out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, smiling fondly at the pretty blonde still sleeping peacefully in his bed. He thought about waking her up for some early morning delight but decided against that idea. His partner would kill him if he was late picking him up again. With a soft sigh of regret, he pulled on a blue tee shirt and struggled to pull on a pair of faded blue jeans that clung to his lower body like a second skin. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he pulled on his socks and his favorite pair of Adidas running shoes.
"Where are you going?" his companion's sleepy voice said as the blonde stirred on the bed behind him.
"Duty calls." He told her in his distinctive accent, a subtle blend of the east and the west coast. "Lock the door when you leave. Okay?"
"Can't you stay a little longer?" the woman whispered, reaching out to run her hand down his back suggestively.
"I wish I could." He told her with his characteristic lopsided grin as he turned and leaned over to give her a deep, soulful kiss. "But, I can't. Not this morning."
"You don't know what you're missing." She pouted as she settled back against her pillow.
"Oh, believe me, darling…I know." He told her with a chuckle remembering the night before. He stood up and left the bedroom before he got distracted and changed his mind. He made his way through the apartment without turning on any lights until he got to the kitchen. The aroma of freshly perked coffee from his automatic coffeemaker filled the air.
He drank his first cup of the day while standing at the kitchen counter, adding liberal amounts of milk and sugar. When he finished, he rinsed the cup and put it in the sink. Walking over to the closet closest to the front door, he opened the door and took down the holster and gun that was hanging on a hook. He slipped on the harness, adjusting the gun so that it rested comfortably under his right armpit. He buckled the straps securely and then slipped on a lightweight leather jacket to hide his weapon.
He let himself out of the apartment and walked down the steps to his pride and joy, a 1972 Ford Grand Torino. The car was hard to miss with its distinctive paint job. It had a bright Candy Apple Red finish with a broad white stripe painted across the roof just in front of the rear window, down both sides and then forward where it tapered to a point at the front of the vehicle.
The car was the first significant purchase that Starsky had made when he was promoted to Detective and he spent a lot of money keeping it in perfect condition. The engine had been modified to make it one of the fastest cars on the road. His partner, Hutch, called it a 'striped tomato' and pretended to hate it but Starsky knew otherwise. At least it was better than those beat up atrocities that his partner preferred to drive around in.
Starsky unlocked the door on the driver's side and slid underneath the wheel, pausing for a moment to breathe in the scent of the black leather seats. The inside of the car was spotless. Despite his somewhat ragged appearance, Starsky was obsessively neat when it came to his apartment and his car. A product of the streets, Starsky had been born in New York and lived there until he was thirteen when he had been sent to California to live with his aunt and uncle after his father's murder. After his rebellious teenage years, Starsky had followed in his father's footsteps and became a cop.
Along with his partner and best friend, Ken Hutchinson, the dynamic duo as they had been dubbed by some of their colleagues, had become one of the best teams in the history of the Bay City Police Department. They had solved some of the most high profile cases in the city and their Captain tended to assign them the more difficult cases that crossed his desk. They operated as part of the elite Zebra unit, a squad of undercover detectives assigned to the robbery/homicide division that patrolled an assigned district and handled a variety of cases. Starsky and Hutch's beat was the rough inner city where the crime rate was the highest.
Hutch's apartment was a fifteen minute drive from Starsky's home in the Canyon. He lived in a second floor apartment at Venice Place, a historic downtown building that housed an Italian restaurant on the ground floor. He was standing at the curb outside the building waiting for Starsky to arrive.
Where Starsky had dark hair, sapphire blue eyes and an olive complexion, Hutch was a typical Wasp from Minnesota with blond hair, a fair complexion and ice blue eyes. Their physical appearance was as different as their backgrounds but that hadn't stopped them from becoming the best of friends.
Hutch opened the door and slid into the car as Starsky screeched to a halt in front of him. He barely had time to pull the heavy door shut before Starsky pulled back into the early morning traffic.
"You're on time for a change." Hutch said bracing one hand against the dashboard as Starsky swung out around a slow moving Chevy in front of him.
"You sound surprised." Starsky said, keeping his attention focused on his driving.
"I thought you hooked up with that little blonde at Huggy's last night."
"I did." Starsky told him, flashing him a grin. "And we had quite a night. What's the matter? Didn't Kim spend the night last night?"
"No," Hutch grumbled good-naturedly. "She gave me the old song and dance about not seeing much of a future with a cop."
"That's too bad." Starsky sympathized. He'd heard the same line a few times himself.
"It's no big deal." Hutch said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "I was getting tired of her complaining all the time anyway. It was time to move on."
Although both men were in their early thirties, neither one of them was interested in a serious relationship at the moment. Hutch had been married when he was in the academy but it had ended in a bitter divorce that had left him reluctant to take the plunge again. Starsky had come close to getting married the previous year but his dreams of a future with his beloved Terry had been shattered when she had been shot in the head by a man out for revenge. The doctors had been unable to remove the bullet and she had died a week later when the piece of metal in her head shifted. Starsky had been devastated and still hadn't fully recovered from her tragic death. So, for now, both men were content to play the field and keep their options open.
When they reached police headquarters, Starsky snagged his favorite parking spot right in front of the building. The two men climbed out of the car and climbed the steps to the main entrance. Several of their fellow officers called out greetings as they crossed through the lobby to the elevators. They took the elevator up to the fourth floor where their squad room was located.
Several officers, both uniformed and plain clothes, were gathered around the long tables arranged in the middle of the room. Hutch headed for his side of the table, while Starsky headed for the coffee pot for some much needed caffeine.
As if alerted by radar to their arrival, Captain Dobey's voice bellowed through the opened door to his office.
"STARSKY! HUTCHINSON! GET IN HERE!"
Starsky grinned at his partner as Hutch joined him. "What did you do now, Blondie?" he quipped.
"Me? You're the one who usually gets us in trouble." Hutch countered as the two men stepped into their superior officer's inner sanctum.
Captain Harold Dobey was a heavyset black man with a gruff exterior that masked a soft heart. He had put in his time pounding a beat and shared a good working relationship with all of the men and women under his command. Although he tried hard not to let it show, Starsky and Hutch were his personal favorites. More than that, they were close personal friends and the Captain considered them part of his immediate family. His eight year old daughter, Rosie, adored her 'adopted' uncles.
Dobey assigned his toughest cases to Starsky and Hutch because he knew that they stood the best change of solving them. They didn't always follow the rules or proper police procedure but their unorthodox methods got the job done. Their exploits were legendary among their peers. Even officers who didn't care for them had to respect them and the reputation they had earned.
Although there were two chairs facing the Captain's desk, the duo choose their customary seating arrangement with Hutch sitting in one of the chairs and Starsky perched on the arm of the chair beside him. Two pairs of blue eyes met Dobey's gaze steadily.
"What's up, Cap?" Starsky asked, deliberately swinging his left foot back and forth in a way that he knew irritated the Captain.
Dobey hesitated momentarily. He knew that the news he was about to deliver to his best team would not be received well. Clearing his throat, he picked up a sheet of paper from the desk and said gruffly, "George Prudolm escaped from prison three days ago."
"PRUDOLM!" Starsky exploded, his eyes flashing with anger as he bounced to his feet. He leaned his hands against the top of the desk and glared at his Captain, his face twisted with rage. "How the hell did that fuck escape this time?"
"He apparently had the help of one of the guards. They think he snuck out in a delivery truck." Dobey said calmly, un-intimidated by Starsky's volatile outburst.
"He's been out for three days and we're just now being notified?" Hutch demanded his own voice cold as ice. Although Starsky was more volatile by nature with a shorter fuse, Hutch's anger was just as deadly. It was simply more controlled. Both men had the reputation of not being someone you wanted to cross. If you wanted to stay healthy, it was best to stay on their good side.
"You know the system," Dobey said "It takes time to cut through all the red tape."
"So Prudolm's out there somewhere probably getting ready to come after Starsky again." Hutch declared, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He reached out and touched Starsky's arm gently. The brunet was wound tight, his body tense and coiled, his eyes still smoldering with a combination of rage and emotional pain.
The history between Starsky and Prudolm was well known within the department. Prudolm was the man who was responsible for the murder of Starsky's fiancé the year before. The year before that, Prudolm had gone on a killing spree, targeting cops as his victims. He had killed three uniformed officers in a twisted plot to try and force Starsky to resign from the force. His thirst for revenge sprung from his misguided belief that Starsky was responsible for the death of his son.
Shortly after their promotion to detective, Starsky and Hutch had busted Gary Prudolm for selling drugs at a local high school. The nineteen year old was killed six days later in a fight at county jail. His father, who was in prison himself at the time, blamed Starsky and targeted him as the object of his revenge. Starsky still carried the burden of guilt for the deaths of three innocent cops and his beloved Terry even though it was Prudolm who was directly responsible for the murders. Both times Prudolm had done his best to goad Starsky into killing him in cold blood when he was arrested. And both times, Hutch had been there to make sure that Starsky didn't lose control.
"What good is the fucking system?" Starsky growled in a disgusted voice. "We catch him and put him away and the system keeps fucking up and letting him escape!" His sapphire eyes darkened with repressed pain. "How many people are going to have to fucking die this time because he wants to get back at me?"
"None if we can help it!" Dobey barked, pointing his finger at the darker half of the duo for emphasis. "I want you and Hutch to go into a safe house until he's found."
"NO WAY!" Starsky yelled, clearly enraged that the Captain had even made such a suggestion. "I'M NOT GIVING THAT BASTARD THE SATISFACTION!
"Captain, Starsky's right." Hutch said more calmly, reaching out his hand once more to touch his partner's arm and keep him grounded. "Going to a safe house isn't going to do any good. Prudolm will just go after more innocent people to try and draw Starsky out into the open."
"So what do you suggest we do?" Dobey demanded, as frustrated with the situation as his men.
A feral grin crossed Starsky's face but his eyes remained cold and deadly. In a deceptively calm voice that made the hair on the back of Dobey's neck stand on end, he said, "We go hunting."