Shot in the Dark
Chapter 1
Same disclaimers as usual: don't own anyone except the bad guy
"You know what Hutch?" Starsky asked over his empty glass. "I think, that criminals should only commit crimes when we're not on duty."
"Why? We'd only have to bust them when we were on duty for breaking that rule", Hutch recited, having had this conversation several times before in different variations. They'd known each other so long that sometimes it seemed as though one knew what the other was going to say before he said it, and they often finished each others' thoughts, or automatically knew what the other was planning.
They were relaxing in the bar after a hard day, and Starsky was reaching that stage of not being able to shut up. It was the end of a long week and they were looking forward to their days off. They'd been working on a complex case, and there'd been a seemingly endless amount of paperwork, with Dobey never satisfied with Starsky's reports. It always amused Hutch, how Starsky could be so tough when he needed to be, and so childlike at other times. The image of Starsky playing with a train set entered his head, and he smiled.
"What's so funny blondie?" asked Starsky, noticing the smile.
"You."
"Oh." Starsky made a thinking-face, seeming unable to work out whether he should be offended or not, and finally decided on not. He couldn't remember what he'd just asked anyway. He decided to continue with a new topic of conversation.
"Hutch? Have you ever noticed how lions get the best names for everything? Like, their group is called a pride of lions. Or the female gets called a lioness."
Hutch rolled his eyes. "Buddy, have you ever noticed that your conversation makes no sense when you're drunk?" he checked his watch. "Come on pal, we'd best be getting home. Stuff to do tomorrow." Starsky looked at his own watch, then at Hutch's, finding no difference in the results.
They left the bar, and headed for Hutch's car, which they'd been using for work that day. Starsky always complained how he was ashamed to be seen in it, but it was definitely better to use when they didn't want the criminals to recognise them; Starsky's car would be recognised a mile off, with its bright red paint and white stripe that seemed to say "Look at me!"
Hutch was not quite as tipsy as his partner, and still capable of driving, in the battered old LTD that he claimed had 'character'.
He drove in silence to Starsky's home. Luckily Starsky was now reaching the stage of falling asleep, and the nonsensical questions had stopped. He dropped Starsky off and they said their goodbyes, promising to talk in the morning, and Starsky headed for his door, digging in the pocket of his tight jeans for his keys. The keys dropped to the ground and he bent down to retrieve them, but never made it, as he felt a heavy object hit him over the head, he dropped to his knees, and everything went dark.
***
Hutch woke up to the sun streaming into his bedroom and savoured the feeling for a moment before getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom.
He called Starsky, but got no answer, and gave up after 12 rings. Probably still sleeping off last night, he thought with a grin. Starsky wasn't known for being an early riser at the best of times. He went to the kitchen to make a health shake, grinning as he thought what Starsky would say about it, then thought about what he needed to get done that day.
Hutch spent the morning paying bills and shopping for groceries. Working long hours on the weekdays, they didn't get a lot of other time to do those things. When he got back to his apartment, he tried calling Starsky again, but still got no answer, and assumed that Starsky was busy like himself. However, by lunchtime, Hutch was starting to get concerned. There was still no answer from Starsky, and they were meant to meet that afternoon to go to the beach. Even on a Saturday it wasn't like him to sleep this long and ignore the phone, and if he'd gone out he should be back by now. He decided to head over to Starsky's apartment. Maybe he was worrying about nothing and Starsky would be annoyed with Hutch for checking up on him, but it would be better than not knowing.
***
The Torino was still parked outside the building, Hutch noticed as he pulled up next to it, but he couldn't decide if that was good or bad. Starsky hadn't gone out in the car, but if he hadn't gone out, why hadn't he answered the phone? He went up to the door and knocked, quietly at first, then louder. "Starsk? It's me", he called, "You alive in there buddy?" Getting no answer, he reached up for the spare key on the doorframe and let himself in.
He cautiously pushed open the door and peered round it, and not seeing Starsky in the living area he entered the room. The curtains were open, so Starsky must have opened them this morning. Or he didn't close them last night, said a voice in his head. Hutch headed to the bedroom next, but still no sign of Starsky. The bed was neatly made, all the covers tucked in, and Hutch started to get an uneasy feeling. In the kitchen, there were no dishes in the sink, no coffee cup out, no dishes drying by the sink. No sign of anyone having used it that day. The blond man was definitely worried now. Starsky wouldn't go without breakfast if he didn't have to. And where would he have gone without his car?
Hutch headed back outside, and it was there that his cops' eyes managed to spot a few drops of blood on the driveway.
Heading back into the building, he went to Starsky's closet and pulled it open, seeing Starsky's gun inside. He pulled it out and tucked it into the back of his own belt, then headed back outside.
Getting quickly back into his car, he started to head for the police station.
"Starsk, where are you?" he asked the silence.