AN: Wow, look at the response/feedback to this fic! You're truly amazing – thanks for all the reviews and encouragement. I hope this chapter won't disappoint.
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Chapter Two – Start Anew
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Tracy Coressy sighed as the phone rang. She didn't have time for it, didn't want to be nice to anyone at the moment. She'd just ended a late shift back at the hospital as a staff nurse. And today had been one of those days that made you want to crawl up in your bed, pull the covers up over your head and sleep.
"Hello, Tracy speaking," she managed cheerfully.
She frowned as no one said anything and contemplated putting the phone down but then she thought she'd heard something.
"Hello?" she tried again. "Is anyone there?"
"Jo-Anne," a raspy voice finally said.
"No, I'm sorry but you've got the wrong number," Tracy said politely.
"No," the voice at the other end grew stronger. "Tracy."
"Who is this?" she demanded. "What kind of sick joke is this?"
"Please," the voice begged. "I'm Daniel. I miss Jo-Anne…she said you were a friend."
"Daniel?" Tracy asked curiously. "You're the…" she faltered as she realized she was about to say retarded and rephrased the statement in her mind. "You're the man Jo-Anne has been talking about so much?"
"Please, is she there?" Daniel asked. "It's not fun anymore. I don't know what I have done but I promise to apologize anyway. I just want her by my side – I need her."
Alarm bells started ringing in the nurse's head at his words. Jo-Anne had said they would tour the continent for three weeks and that was a month ago by now. "Look, Daniel. I haven't seen Jo-Anne in four weeks but now I'm getting really worried, not just about her but of you too. How long have you been on your own?"
"Twenty-four hours," he managed weakly. "I can't…" he began but never finished the sentence.
The eventful day at the hospital forgotten Tracy quickly grabbed her car keys that lay on the counter next to the phone. "Hold on Daniel, I know where you live, just keep it together for a little while longer," she urged him.
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Harold Dobey cursed the candy slot machine as it refused to reward him with a candy bar after he'd been feeding it with a dime. He gave it a light kick just as a familiar voice spoke up from further down the corridor.
"Stay away from the candy machine, Captain," Starsky admonished with a cunning grin.
"Take your smart ass remarks and…" he began angrily as the curly haired detective walked up to stand opposite him.
They looked at each other for a moment before embracing each other in a quick hug, Dobey slapping Starsky on the back. "So good to see you, son," he said, unable to keep the emotions out of his voice.
"Good to be back, Captain," Starsky drawled lazily as they let go of each other. "Now, what can I do?"
"You just sit on your ass, fill in the various forms required for light duty and get some sort of order on your reports," Dobey ordered sternly as he refocused on the machine and gave it a final shove.
"Where is the fun in that?" Starsky whined, hands on his hips.
"Don't push your luck," Dobey threatened as the candy bar finally rolled out.
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It was two o'clock in the afternoon when Doctor Judith Kaufman shifted lightly in her seat, trying to get more comfortable in the wooden chair at the hospital's large conference room. They were halfway through the seminar and what had begun as an interesting three day stint was rapidly becoming very boring. The first day had been fun with the breakthroughs in her field told from the frontline and the dinner party afterwards. However, what was being discussed now was yesterday's news, things that she'd already been practicing for some time. Occasionally the discussions had raised her interest but not enough to stop her mind from wandering.
Judith dared a sideway glance at her colleague and smirked as she noticed that Doctor Meredith too looked rather bored. Luckily it was only an hour till a much needed break was due. Her mind kept drifting and, not for the first time, she found herself wondering what Ken and Dave were doing. She had actually, between the tight schedules of the first day, called both of them but no one had answered. John had suggested that they were on a stake out or working late, they were after all police detectives.
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Nurse Tracy Coressy drove through the large main gate to Daniel's residence and pulled up next to the large wooden double door that marked the entrance to the house. Knowing where Jo-Anne kept the spare key it didn't take long for her to get inside. She localized the permanently damaged man rather quickly where he sat sagging in a chair next to the phone.
"Daniel?" Tracy asked softly as she knelt beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.
The man, roughly around thirty five years old, with good looks, slowly tilted his head upward to look at her. When he finally recognized her his glazed eyes sparked with gratitude and a faint smile appeared on his lips.
"You came," he exclaimed, yet his voice was no higher than a whisper.
Tracy pursed her lips into thin line of displeasure at the state the man was in but then forced a smile for his sake. "Of course I came, Daniel…" she trailed off hesitantly realizing she didn't really know him that well. "It is all right if I call you Daniel?"
Daniel Gordon let out a low chuckle. "I'm not one to prompt on surnames, especially not with such a beautiful woman," he let on weakly.
Tracy grinned, unable to resist his charm despite his rather rumpled appearance. "Now, first things first," she admonished him mischievously. "Let's get you to the Memorial and have you checked out."
The smile on Daniel's lips disappeared at the mention of the hospital. "No, please. I've had enough of that place during the years – that and the lovely rehabilitation center uptown," he said.
"You're obviously ill, Daniel," Tracy returned trying to get him to understand.
"I've caught a bug or something down in Africa. I'm sure it'll get better soon," he reasoned. "Look, Tracy. I'm more than a little worried about Jo-Anne. I was expecting her ages ago but I didn't want to call the police. I know she's been in trouble before and she's been so nice and everything has been going so well for her…"
"None of her problems should be brought upon you, never believe that, Daniel. Jo-Anne has had a few tough years and met some pretty strange people. I'd be lying if I told you I haven't contemplated ending our friendship at times but deep down she's a good person," Tracy chuckled nervously, wringing her hands as she continued. "Forgive my ramblings. Anyway, I do suggest we call the police because this isn't like her. However, before we do that, let's get you to bed and tuck you in. How does that sound?"
"Sounds like the plan, Tracy. For I can call you Tracy can't I?" he asked hopefully.
The nurse smiled, smitten by his charming ways and positive attitude. "How can I say no to such a lovely gentleman," she replied. "But, please try to understand that if your fever isn't better sometime tomorrow I have to bring you to the hospital."
"I've survived worse things," he let on. "Please, Tracy, call the police and have them find Jo-Anne for me."
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Huggy looked up from his rolling shop of merchandise next to the corner of Beach Boulevard and 2nd Avenue, one of the richer areas in the city, as a battered Ford Galaxie drove up beside him.
"Looking a little lost here, Hug," Hutch teased from the driver's seat.
"So does your car, man," the thin black man returned with a smirk.
Hutch's face fell as he heard a snort from the passenger seat and glanced over at his temporary partner. "Hey, don't you even start," he said angrily.
Rawlins threw up his hands in muck surrender unable to prevent the chuckle escaping him.
Huggy shook his head sadly although on his lips a smile was still dancing. There was something seriously wrong with the picture in front of him. Not that he was pleased that Hutch seemed to be back to a more normal standard and occasionally he even laughed for real but Huggy never could get used to see Hutch alone, or with someone else beside him than Starsky. There was nothing wrong with young Rawlins, he'd probably be a fine detective sergeant when his time came but he wasn't David Starsky. Huggy sobered up and stopped walking, forcing Hutch to come to a full stop, and then turned to really look at the pair of detectives.
"Look, my blond friend, was there anything you wanted other than insult a man trying to make up for his expensive life?" Huggy asked casually.
Hutch snorted. "Is the bar business going badly or something?" he returned.
"No one, except for the winos, drink this early in the day and I was finished with my orders. Basically I got bored, wanted someone to talk to and socialize a little on the streets. You know how it is," the police informant returned with a shrug.
"Jo-Anne Fields," Hutch said.
Huggy made a face. "Nah, the name says nothing to me. Why?" he asked curiously.
"Some kids found her under the Coastal Bridge early this morning. Her life couldn't be saved. The robbery squad transferred the case to our department and the coroner just confirmed the exact cause of death. Luckily for us she'd been involved in a case a couple of years ago so we still had her fingerprints," Hutch explained.
"Involved, as in doing time in the slammer?" Huggy asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No, nothing like that. Cut it out would you? There are different shades of dodgy people, not all of them are gangsters," the blond detective said.
The bar owner appeared to be deep in thought for a while then broke into a grin. "Was she into money laundering?" he asked.
The detectives looked at each other, both frowning, before Hutch refocused his attention on his friend. "You tell me, that's not the crime she was involved in," he returned. "But it involved money."
"I suppose appearance can easily change but she was a woman. I mean a real woman with good looks. Long straight dark brown hair and large brown eyes. A little too skinny perhaps…" Huggy Bear said dreamingly.
Hutch narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I thought you said you didn't know anyone by that name?"
"I didn't think so at first but the more I think about it…Anyway to make a long story short. I saw her once and only once. That was at a large party hosted by some hot shot called Mr. Han. He was deep into the money business, man," Huggy warned.
Rawlins spoke up. "Didn't Lieutenant Hawkins' men bust that guy a while back? Broke the supply chain of command of his business too. As I remember it he used to deal the good stuff."
"Now, what I want to know, Hug, is what you were doing on that party and why I haven't heard about it before?" Hutch asked.
"She was nervous," the lanky man returned, ignoring the detective's last remark. "Didn't seem at ease at all at the party. She came with some creep called Mr. Irish?"
"Mr. Irish?" Hutch asked with a raised eyebrow. "The highly respected bank accountant?"
Huggy nodded. "A bit strange isn't it?" he wondered aloud.
"I wonder what the connection between Mr. Han and Mr. Irish is," Rawlins mused from the passenger seat. "Come to think about it, wasn't there charges brought against him too?"
"Anyway, that Han fella and his bunch are a lot of trouble," Huggy cautioned. "They didn't call him 'the Octopus' for nothing. Despite doing time he's still got connections."
"Tell me about it," the blond detective returned sourly. "The chief of the chief is furious about the organized bunch of criminals. He's making Dobey's life miserable at the moment and it's taken out on us poor detectives."
Hutch turned his attention from Huggy to Rawlins. "Mr. Irish is a smart man, Rawlins, the evidence of his possible involvement in the Octopus Corporation is circumstantial at best."
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"The Octopus and Mr. Irish?" Dobey said sarcastically. "And now you think there's a connection between the two of them and the murder of Jo-Anne Fields? That's all I need."
"Look, if it is somehow connected to Jo-Anne's death we might finally have something reliable enough to go on," Starsky reasoned as he got out of his chair and headed for the coffee machine. "Why don't I take a look into it?"
Dobey huffed sourly as he sat down on the edge of Hutch's desk. "I thought I told you to take care of your reports and to take it easy?" he said.
Starsky looked up from the file about the Octopus Corporation he was skimming through, his stance annoyed. "It's not like there's much to do Captain. I mean Hutch's done a pretty good job and I haven't been here for about seven months," he returned.
"The fact is, Starsky, that you shouldn't be here at all yet," Dobey cautioned to the hot tempered detective sitting down opposite him. He held up a hand in order to stave off the argument he knew would follow. "I had real trouble getting you back to light duty and to convince the chief that you would be a good boy and sit behind your desk and not run off on some wild goose chase."
"I…" the curly haired detective began in a steely voice.
"I wasn't finished," Dobey countered in a no nonsense voice. "Damn you, Starsky, seven months ago I thought you would die!"
The constant raising of the captain's voice until the last word was shouted at the young man in front of him caused several of the officers in the duty room to turn their heads.
Dobey calmed down a little, looking directly into Starsky's blue eyes. "I know you want out there to be with your partner, to get into the action again but until the police doctor tells me that you're ready for it I can't let you. Do you understand?" he said seriously.
Starsky clamped his mouth shut and tightened his jaw as he broke eye contact with his superior.
"Do you understand?" Dobey pushed.
The usually cocky, curly haired, detective inhaled sharply as he once again focused on the captain. He was angry, Dobey could tell, but he wisely held his tongue. Instead of raising his voice or just simply march out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him, he swallowed, his face a mask, hiding the conflicted emotions Dobey knew he must be feeling.
"It's not that easy, Captain," Starsky finally said, his voice flat as he got out of the chair and slipped through the doors quietly.
Dobey muttered a curse under his breath and unconsciously balled his hand into a fist. He knew what Starsky probably had guessed. The medical department of the police force didn't think he had it in him, didn't think his body could withstand the pressure anymore. The fact was that Dobey didn't know if he could either. And Starsky behind a desk, that was just wrong.
The captain had a soft spot for the New Yorker and his blond companion and he would miss them terribly if they decided to leave. Because, there was no doubt in mind, that should it be decided that Starsky no longer met the requirements to be on the streets and got desk duty or an honorable discharge from the force, Hutchinson would go with him.
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To be continued
