CHAPTER 6

A/N: No recent reviews. I hope someone is reading this little saga. To anyone who may have read it before, everything after this chapter has been rewritten and is different from the original.

The next few days passed uneventfully. There were no more mysterious letters from the killer and no new leads. Starsky and Hutch had plenty of other cases to keep them occupied but Jim Tanner's murder was never far from their minds.

Cops are a closed society, a brotherhood bound together by a common goal and purpose. A cop killing always affected all the other men and women who wore the badge, reinforcing the inherent danger of their chosen profession. And when the killer apparently singled out his victim merely because he just happened to be a cop, it left his fellow police officers wondering if one of them could be the next random victim.

In between their routine paperwork and following leads in their other cases, Starsky and Hutch reviewed the files of their past cases trying to find any possible connection between Starsky and the killer. It was a daunting task with no guarantee of success. Even the criminals who were in prison couldn't be eliminated as suspects. They still had contacts on the outside that could arrange things for them. Every cop makes enemies during the course of their career and Starsky and Hutch had made more then their fair share over the years. Any one of them could have decided that it was time for a little payback.

Proceeding on the theory that the killer had singled out Starsky for a personal vendetta complicated things. Although his professional life would most likely hold the key they needed to solve the case, his personal life had to be considered too. The possibility that something in his past may be connected to the case could not be ignored. All they needed was a solid lead to shove them in the right direction. They had worked on cases in the past where a series of murders appeared to be unrelated until the case was solved.

"Damn," Starsky muttered as he shoved aside another stack of files. "At this rate, we're gonna end up with more suspects than we can handle."

"You wanna call it a day? Go back to my place and grab a pizza or something?" Hutch suggested. The dark circles under Starsky's eyes and the deep lines etched around the corners of his mouth spoke volumes. He was still being plagued by nightmares of his father's murder. The apparent similarities between that cold case and this one were uncanny. Hutch was convinced they were just weird coincidences that were triggering unpleasant memories in the brunet.

It wasn't in Starsky's nature to dwell on the past but his father's murder had been a traumatic turning point in his life that had left deep, unhealed scars. He had pushed his memories of that day so deep that some of the images were blurred while others stood out with crystal clarity. Sharing his memories of that day with Hutch had helped to relieve some of the brunet's tension but not all of it.

Starsky grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and the two men left the squad room. Starsky had been quiet and subdued all day and Hutch hoped that a relaxing evening at his apartment would help the troubled brunet sleep. As they walked across the parking lot towards Starsky's car, he suddenly spoke up.

"You know it was twenty-one years ago today that Pop was killed." He said quietly, as he fumbled to pull his keys from his tight jeans. Although his voice was calm, Hutch could hear the deep pain behind his words.

"I'm sorry, buddy." Hutch said suddenly realizing the reason for Starsky's depressed mood that day. He reached out and clasped the smaller man's shoulder, squeezing it tightly. "I didn't know. You should have told me sooner. We could have cut out early."

Hutch's velvety voice had the desired effect, calming and soothing Starsky. Starsky shrugged his shoulders, feigning indifference, as he unlocked the car door and slid underneath the wheel. He leaned over to unlock the other door for Hutch, who slid into the passenger's seat and folded his long legs under the dashboard. He reached out to turn off the police radio. They were signed out for the day and he didn't want any unexpected calls interrupting their evening. Starsky needed some downtime especially today. They made casual conversation as Starsky maneuvered his way through the rush hour traffic to Hutch's Venice Place apartment. Parking at the curb behind Hutch's latest in a long line of battered vehicles, the two friends climbed the steps to Hutch's second floor apartment and went inside.

Starsky grabbed two cold beers out of the refrigerator while Hutch used the phone to order them something to eat. Deciding against pizza, he called a Chinese carryout that delivered and ordered a variety of choices. Hanging up the phone, he gratefully accepted the ice cold beer from his partner.

"Food should be here in about half an hour. I ordered Chinese from Ty Lings."

"Sounds good." Starsky said, slouching down on the sofa and propping his feet up on the coffee table. He took a deep swallow of his beer and then leaned his head back against the couch cushions, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh as his exhaustion caught up with him.

"Why don't you crash here tonight?" Hutch suggested "You're too tired to drive all the way back to your place."

"Yeah, okay." Starsky mumbled in a contented voice. The two friends often stayed over at one apartment or the other. Not only did it save time in the mornings but it also kept them from being alone when one of them was dealing with an emotional crisis. Starsky was stronger than Hutch was emotionally. He had to be after all the traumas he had endured in his life.

But, even he had his limits and this case, combined with the memories surrounding his father's death had pushed him dangerously close to the edge. Raising his head, Starsky opened his eyes and gazed at his friend fondly. "Ya know, sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if Pop hadn't been killed. I'd have never ended up in Bay City, that's for sure."

"And we would never have met." Hutch pointed out. "I can't imagine my life without you in it, Gordo."

"Same here." Starsky admitted with a crooked smile. "Even if I had stayed in New York, I still think I would have been a cop."

"I think you would have been too." Hutch agreed "It's in your blood." He sensed that Starsky needed to talk about his father and his childhood, a topic that he generally avoided. Hutch knew that the anniversary of his father's murder was stirring up emotions that Starsky was not comfortable with.

"What about you? What would you have done if you hadn't become a cop?" Starsky asked as he settled into a comfortable position and curled his legs up beneath him.

"I don't know…probably finished med school and been miserable for the rest of my life." Hutch said lightly with just a hint of bitterness in his voice. "That was my father's dream…not mine."

Hutch's relationship with his family was strained. His parents had objected strongly when he decided to quit school and go to the police academy. His wealthy father had literally disowned Hutch for choosing his own path in life instead of the one that had been mapped out for him since birth. Their contact with their only child had been reduced to a card and a check on his birthday and an expensive gift at Christmas that Hutch usually had no use for.

"You'd have made a good doctor." Starsky said "You're real good at that kind of stuff." He thought about all the times he had been hurt and relied on his friend's loving care to recover.

"That's because I've had a lot of practice taking care of you." Hutch teased his friend as if he had read his thoughts. Their almost psychic connection at times was something that they both accepted without question. It had saved their lives more than once out there on the streets. To an outsider who didn't know them very well, their silent form of communication with one another could be unnerving.

"You remind me of Pop sometimes." Starsky said thoughtfully. "He cared about people and he wasn't afraid to show it. And he was smart too, a lot smarter than most people gave him credit for."

"Hmmmm…sounds a lot like his son." Hutch said with an affectionate smile. Underneath the tough, street-wise cop exterior, Starsky was the gentlest, most compassionate man that Hutch knew. He may not have a college education or the advantages of Hutch's more privileged upbringing, but he had a sharp, inquisitive mind and was constantly exploring new ideas.

The biggest mistake that most people made was underestimating Starsky because of his appearance or his background. He had helped Hutch become the man he was today and for that Hutch would forever be grateful. He was the closest, most loyal friend that Hutch had ever had and he valued that friendship more than he could ever express. Starsky was the one person in his life who had accepted Hutch the way he was with all his faults and insecurities, never expecting him to live up to any lofty expectations but just to be himself.

"I miss him so much." Starsky said in a quiet, subdued voice as he finished his beer and shoved himself to his feet to get another one. "He was a great dad, Hutch. The best."

Hutch nodded somberly. He knew that Starsky idolized his father and held his memories of him close to his heart. Hutch envied Starsky for the closeness that he shared with his large extended family. Whatever he had lacked in material possessions while he was growing up had been made up for with an abundance of love and understanding. His childlike enthusiasm for simple things was all part of the unique personality that made up the essence of David Michael Starsky. And Hutch wouldn't have changed anything about his impetuous friend for the world.

Their food arrived and Hutch paid the delivery boy, adding a generous tip. He carried the bags into the kitchen and sat them on the table. Starsky had fetched them both a fresh drink and sat the table so that they could enjoy their meal. While Hutch was more health conscious and his diet reflected that; with his cast iron stomach, Starsky would eat almost anything. Chinese was a good choice for both men and was one of the few ways that Starsky could be convinced to eat his vegetables.

After eating, Hutch put away the leftovers while Starsky washed the few dishes that they had used. Afterwards, they relaxed in front of the TV, watching one of the old movies that Starsky enjoyed. After it ended, Hutch went to bed in his room while Starsky made up the sofa.

"POP! NOOOO, POP. LOOK OUT…GET DOWN!" Starsky's voice cried out in the darkness, startling Hutch awake. He jumped out of bed and hurried to his friend's side. He found Starsky lying on the living room floor, tangled in the blanket he had been covered with. He was still asleep and crying out plaintively, swinging his hands around frantically as if warding off an unseen enemy.

"Starsky!" Hutch said, kneeling beside him and reaching out to gently caress a shoulder. "Come on, babe…wake up. It's just a dream." He continued talking to the distraught brunet in a calm, soothing voice as he gently eased him out of his nightmare.

Finally, Starsky's eyes opened and he stared into Hutch's concerned face. His face crumbled and the tears flooded his eyes as he reached for Hutch. Hutch pulled him into his arms and held him close as the brunet burst into tears. Hutch rocked him gently back and forth, comforting his friend as Starsky struggled to regain his composure. With anyone else, Starsky would never have broken down and given in to his emotions. It was a testament to the level of trust he had in Hutch that allowed him to vent his grief and pain.

Stealing a glance at his face, Hutch saw that Starsky had fallen back to sleep. Hutch smiled as he settled back against the sofa, content to hold his friend in his arms while he slept.