Chapter 2

John and Maggie Blaine lived in modest but comfortable ranch style house on the lower east side of the city in a quiet suburban neighborhood. Starsky's aunt and uncle lived a few blocks away in a similar neighborhood. The two detectives got out of the car and slowly walked up the sidewalk to the front door. Hutch kept his left hand resting lightly on his partner's back to keep him grounded and to let Starsky know that he wasn't in this alone.

Hutch's quiet knock was answered by Maggie Blaine. She was an attractive woman, a few years younger than her deceased husband. She had long dark hair and soft, brown eyes. Eyes that were puffy and red from crying. Despite her obvious grief, she greeted the two detectives warmly. Starsky immediately reached out and gave her a heartfelt hug. She returned his hug, a strangled sob catching in his throat. Composing herself, she ushered them into the neat, modestly furnished living room.

She sat down on the edge of the sofa, while Hutch wandered over to a built-in bookcase to admire John's collection of trophies, awards, medals, and framed commendations. Visible symbols of an illustrious career with the Bay City Police Department. A career spanning over twenty years.

The big blond smiled fondly at a picture of John standing with his arm slung around the shoulders of a teenaged Starsky. In the picture, they were both grinning broadly, in spite of the blood that was clearly visible on Starsky's face. "John was teaching me to box." Starsky explained over Hutch's shoulder. "Bloody nose and all."

"He was so proud of you, David." Maggie volunteered with a soft smile. "He said that he always knew that you'd make something out of yourself." Remembering her manners, she said, "Thank you both for coming. Can I get you anything? Something to drink? Some coffee?"

Both men graciously declined. Starsky and Hutch exchanged a glance that spoke volumes without saying a word. Noting the expressions on their faces, Maggie said hesitantly, "What is it, David?"

"Maggie, John was with somebody last night…a young man." Starsky said, trying to choose his words carefully. He still didn't feel comfortable revealing the truth about John to his wife. A truth John had spent a lifetime hiding from everyone around him. A truth that Starsky himself could no longer deny.

"What do you mean?" Maggie asked innocently, looking at Starsky with a puzzled expression. "What are you trying to say?"

"Maggie…last night Johnny was seen taking a young man up to his hotel room…" Starsky said quietly, discomfort echoing clearly in his voice.

"He was always with people like that…that was his job. You know that, David." Maggie said nervously, glancing from Starsky's face to Hutch, as she tried to deny what Starsky was trying so hard to tell her.

"Maggie," Starsky said patiently, "Johnny had a hotel room…he'd had that hotel room for a long time."

"No…he was on a case…he had to be…he just forgot to tell me about it…" Maggie said as she rose to her feet and crossed the room to stand in front of the trophy case with her back turned towards the two detectives. An uncomfortable silence filled the room for several minutes. It was broken when Maggie sighed softly and turned to face Starsky and Hutch. "I know you're not lying, David…I think I've known for a long time…" She returned to the sofa and slumped down on the cushions. "Sometimes, things are better left unsaid."

"Maggie, is there anything else you can tell us that might help us find out who killed John?" Hutch asked quietly. "The hotel manager said that up until six months ago, there was another man in that room with him."

"For a long time John was very close to a young man…" she admitted with something that sounded almost like relief in her voice.

"Do you remember his name?"

"Peter Whitelaw. It was in the papers about a year ago…a young teacher accused of being a homosexual." One solitary tear slid down her cheek. "After Peter filed a lawsuit against the school, John started drinking more and working longer hours…at least he told me that he was working."

Starsky walked over to the wet bar in the corner of the room and poured a glass of sherry. Walking back over to the sofa, he sat down beside Maggie and put one arm around her shoulders, as he handed her the drink. Her hand was trembling as she took the glass and finished the drink in one swallow.

"You okay?" Starsky asked her compassionately, his genuine concern for the woman showing in the tone of his voice.

"I'm fine, David." Maggie reassured him in a carefully controlled voice. "Believe it or not, it helps to finally be able to talk to someone about it."

"Did you ever tell John what you suspected?" Hutch asked in a quiet voice. This was part of the job that he hated, intruding on people's privacy when they were at their most vulnerable.

"No, I was afraid to." Maggie admitted, her eyes filling with unshed tears. "I was afraid that he'd leave me if he thought I knew." She looked at the blond, her eyes pleading for him to understand. "He was my husband. We've been married for twenty-four years…and in spite of everything…I still loved him." She turned her attention to Starsky's stricken face. In a softer voice, she said, "David, John was a good man. No matter what you find out...John was a good man." She reached out and gently brushed her fingertips down the side of Starsky's face. "He loved you, David. Despite everything that happened, he really loved you."

A strange expression crossed Starsky's face, a curious blend of sadness and grief, mixed with something that looked almost like anger. Without a word or a backward glance, he shoved himself to his feet and left the room, leaving a stunned Hutch behind. The slamming of the front door indicated that he had left the house.

"I'm sorry, Maggie." Hutch said, offering the woman a hasty apology. "I'd better check on my partner. You know how to reach us if you remember anything you think might help."

"I understand…go to David. He's going to need you now…more than ever." Maggie said, her voice trembling with emotion. Hutch nodded and hurried from the room to catch up with Starsky.

He found the brunet leaning against the side of Hutch's car, looking visibly shaken. Walking to his partner's side, Hutch said softly, "Hey, Buddy…you okay?"

"Let's get out of here." Starsky said gruffly, pulling open the car door and sliding into the front seat. Hutch frowned; concerned by Starsky's unusual behavior, but he held his tongue. Crossing to the other side of the car, he slid underneath the wheel and twisted the key in the ignition. The engine turned over with a puff of smoke and a loud backfire.

Normally, Starsky would have made some smart ass remark about Hutch's car but this time he remained silent, staring out of his window, as Hutch drove through the quiet tree lined streets back to the hustle and bustle of the inner city. They were almost back to headquarters before Starsky finally broke the silence. In a somber voice, he said,

"Nobody's gonna give a damn about what kind of cop Johnny was…all they're gonna care about is that he was gay…" Starsky looked at his partner, his eyes filled with a pain that tore at Hutch's heart. "When I was a kid, Johnny kept me out of a lot of trouble. I always figured that I owed him for that."

"How do you feel now?"

"That I owe it to him to find the scum that killed him and make sure that they pay for it." Starsky replied. "No matter what John may have been…no matter what he may have done…he didn't deserve to die like that."

"Starsk…is there something you're not telling me?" Hutch asked in a concerned voice. An angry Starsky he could deal with. A grieving Starsky he could comfort. He didn't quite know what to do with this stranger that looked like his partner and best friend but sure wasn't acting like him. He pulled up to the curb in front of Police Headquarters and parked. Starsky climbed out of the car without answering and began to walk towards the entrance to the building.

With a sigh, Hutch scrambled out of the car and followed him. Whatever was bothering Starsky, he wasn't ready to talk about it. Not yet. And Hutch knew that if he pushed it, the brunet would just withdraw even more.