Chapter 6
"What?! They're bailing him out? After what he did to Hutch?!"
"They gave him a deal. He's singing about some dope kingpin. They can get him with Roger's testimony. Apparently that trumps an attempted murder charge on a police officer." Dobey did not sound any happier about this than Starsky was. "Two federal agents are on their way over. I want you to be here when we talk. And get your snitches on this. See what they can find out."
"You got it, Cap'n. When is Rogers being sprung?"
"As soon as he gets a doctor's release from the prison hospital."
"So we'll need police protection again for Hutch and Jill when he's out on the streets again."
"I know that, Starsky. Who do you think you're talking to, a rookie?" Dobey snapped.
"Sorry, Cap'n. I'll swing by Huggy's. It's on the way."
"No. Come straight to the precinct. I want you in my office in half an hour."
""Kay, Cap'n."
Dave hung up the phone and left his apartment. He threw himself into the Torino and gunned the engine to head for the precinct.
After Dave had dropped her off, Jill went into the apartment and called Gretchen to tell her she would be ready to come back to work on Monday, barring any more complications with Hutch, then she moved back down the stairs and got into the Mustang. She ran the errands on her list. Returning home, she cleaned and tidied up the apartment, then cleaned out Cleo's litter box-the poor cat had been neglected for three days and filled her food and water bowls-and tended to Hutch's plants. After she finished those two tasks, Jill picked up a book to read when Hutch was sleeping today and she left the apartment to go back to the hospital. She stopped at the nurse's station to get a progress report on Hutch. The nurse there didn't know anything, but as she approached 414 she found out from noises coming from the room.
"Sergeant Hutchinson, stop!" the female voice of the nurse floated out. Uh-oh, she thought. It sounded like Hutch was becoming a problem patient. She knew he hated hospitals. Sighing, Jill opened the door and entered her husband's room. Color was returning to his face—in fact it was bright pink either with frustration or exertion, Jill couldn't tell. His left arm was in a sling. The red headed nurse was trying to put another I-V bag on the stand, but Hutch was having none of it. He was sitting up in the bed, using his good arm to grab at the bag in the nurse's hand. When the blond man spotted his wife, he entreated her:
"Tell this nurse I don't like being all doped up."
"Sargent Hutchinson, it's your pain medication. I can't stop it just like that."
"Please—all I want is to be awake enough to talk to my wife for more than 15 minutes at a time and not fall asleep in the middle of a sentence." he snapped, but Jill could hear a plaintive tone underlying his voice.
Jill said to the nurse, "Does he have to take the medication by I-V? Can't you give him something in oral form?"
"I'll need to check with the doctor." the nurse said, putting the bag out of Hutch's reach. "I'll be right back." the nurse left the room.
"Well, you must be feeling better if you're aggravating the nurses." Jill leaned over and kissed him.
"I slept most of the morning. How are you doing?" his face was a study in concern for her as he cupped her face in his good large hand and caressed her cheek. He also saw what Starsky had seen earlier: the dark smudges under her eyes and the pinched, drawn face and his heart twisted.
"I'm ok, Ken, really—for being scared out of my wits when you almost bled to death, then you wouldn't wake up and then developing an 103 degree fever."
"I know. I'm sorry." a guilty look crossed his face and her heart twisted. "I've put you through so much. You haven't had to deal with anything like this before. But this is what a cop's life is like. We've been lucky up to now. I guess my luck just changed. Do you still want to be a cop's wife?" Even though his tone was light, he searched her face for any sign that she was seriously having second thoughts about being married to him. He held his breath without realizing he was as he waited for her response. That had been the reason Vanessa had left him: she didn't think being a cop's wife held any future.
"Of course I do. My grandfather was a cop, remember?- and my grandmother handled it. My mother has always told me I'm a lot like said grandmother. You aren't getting rid of me that easily." Jill reassured him, knowing his history with Vanessa. She started to fuss with the sheet covering him and fluffing the pillows behind him. When she started fussing with things like that, Hutch knew something was on her mind. "What's wrong, Jill?"
"I-oh, God, Hutch, this is all my fault. If I hadn't been so pigheaded about going to the Rogers, I wouldn't have walked into Joe's trap for you and Dave." Hutch now saw the guilt eating her up inside. Jill had been so worried about him that she had tamped it down before.
"It isn't your fault—"
"But you wouldn't have even been in that house to get shot if it wasn't for me, Ken!" she wailed, bursting into tears, all of the guilt and worry overwhelming her. The raw edges of her emotions were exposed, scraping her heart.
"Oh, Jilly, please don't cry." he only used the silly childhood nickname in private moments. No one knew he called her that, not even Starsky. "You know I hate it when you cry." God, he wanted to hold her with both arms—to calm her fears-to assuage her guilt. He tried to lift his arm, but he was still weak and the simple movement still hurt so much that it dropped to his side. Jill seemed to be aware of what he was trying to do and the fact that he couldn't made her cry all the harder. Hutch's blue eyes filled with tears.
"Jilly, come here." he pulled on her arm and Jill leaned over. Hutch managed to get his good arm around her without too much pain from the wound in his shoulder. Jill laid her head down on his right shoulder. "Please don't do this. Don't blame yourself. I don't blame you. You aren't responsible for Joe Roger's actions. He is. He set the whole situation up. You had no way to know he was going to take his family hostage." he slid his long fingers through her red gold hair and lifted her head. His icy blue eyes met her meadow green ones still damp with tears. There was no recrimination in their blue depths, just love and concern. "None of this is your fault, ok?" one of Hutch's long fingers reached out to wipe away a lone tear running down her face. Jill fell head over heels in love with her husband all over again at that moment. She smiled at him and swiped away the rest of her tears.
"Okay--" she kissed him.
The nurse returned to the room. She was holding a syringe.
"All right—we compromised, Sargent Hutchinson. I'll give you a shot. This won't be so fast acting. You'll have about an hour to talk to Mrs. Hutchinson before you fall asleep. Is that acceptable?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Ken, come on. She's trying to be helpful."
He sighed, resigned to his fate. "All right. Arm or hip?"
"Hip. Roll over on your side." Jill moved away. With the nurse's help Hutch managed to roll over on his right side with little discomfort and she plunged the syringe into his hip through the openings of his hospital gown. Then she rolled him back over on his back after the initial pain of the shot had subsided.
"I'll leave you now. If you need anything, push the call button."
"Yeah,yeah, I know."
The nurse left and Jill moved back over to his side. She picked up his right hand.
"So we've got an hour. What do you want to talk about?"
"I just said that for her benefit. What I really want to do--" Hutch wiggled his eyebrows in a lascivious Groucho Marx as he pulled her down by the arm until her face was close to his. "--is to kiss you silly."
"You really are feeling better-" the rest of her sentence was smothered as Ken's lips found hers in a thorough kiss, his tongue tracing the fullness of her lips. This was more like it, she thought. This was one of Hutch's kisses, a kiss that sang through her veins. The kisses she'd had given him over the past few days had to be short and quick, almost perfunctory, because he wasn't strong enough for anything else. She relaxed under it, glad he was obviously feeling stronger. But what Hutch didn't realize when he brought her down, he had inadvertently leaned on the nurse call button; that is, until the nurse opened the door.
"You need something, Detective-oh, I'm sorry."
Jill started giggling when she realized what he had done and broke off the kiss.
"Sorry, we didn't mean to call you." Jill managed to say.
"No, it looks like you have everything well in hand." that remark sent Jill into another spell of giggles. The nurse closed the door.
"That wasn't funny." Hutch said, even though he was trying very hard not to laugh himself as Jill stood up.
"Yes, it was. We'd better watch out where we put this thing." She moved the call button to a safer place.
They talked for another 45 minutes until Hutch started to feel the effects of the shot. After several yawns in a row, he mumbled, "God, I hate this. Will you stay with me?" he fumbled for Jill's hand and squeezed it.
"I'll be right here when you wake up." she leaned over and kissed him.
He nodded, let go of her hand and was soon fast asleep. Jill moved over to the chair and took out her book to start reading.
Meanwhile after Dave parked the Torino and went inside the Metro to bound up the stairs. Starsky pushed open the double doors to the squad room and went to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup. He took a sip and grimaced-as usual it was too strong for his taste-so he poured a generous heaping of sugar into it. He smiled as he could almost hear Hutch say "A little coffee with your sugar, Starsk?' Starsky sighed and got up to knock on Dobey's door. Without waiting for an answer, he walked in.
"I'm here, Cap'n." Two men in identical dark blue pinstripe suits with matching dark blue ties were sitting in the two chairs facing Dobey's desk. The two men rose to their feet. One was of Hispanic descent, tall, lean, with salt and pepper hair and black eyes. The other was shorter, stouter, and had sandy brown hair and gray eyes. These must be the feds Dobey wanted him to meet.
"Starsky, come in. I want you to meet these two gentlemen. This is Greg Guitterez and James Witherspoon. They are the federal agents on the Rogers case." As Starsky came into the office, the Captain's brown eyes caught Starsky's blue ones and warned him to not cause any trouble, even though Dobey knew that was asking the impossible, especially since the case involved Hutch and the two partners were fiercely protective of each other.
"Oh, so you're the guys who are gonna let the man who shot my partner back out on the streets." Starsky ignored the two men's proferred hands. They awkwardly let their hands drop to their sides.
"Well, uh- how is Detective Hutchinson?" Guitterez asked.
"He's gonna be fine. But that ain't the point, Guitterez. What does this turkey Rogers know that you bozos want so badly?"
"Starsky!" Captain Dobey growled in warning as Starsky took a step toward the federal agent.
"No, Captain Dobey. It's perfectly understandable that Sergeant Starksy would be upset with us for letting Joe Rogers back out on the streets. Do you mind if we tape this interview? It's standard operating procedure for us so no misunderstandings occur."
"Yeah-whatever-" Starsky shrugged his shoulders. Witherspoon produced a cassette tape recorder and punched down the play and record buttons simultaneously.
"He can give us Reynoldo Rosetti, Detective. Do you know how long we have been chasing Rosetti? Ten years. You are not going to blow this for us, Sergeant Starsky. H-we will not tolerate any interference from you. I've already instructed your Captain to order you not to take any action against Joe Rogers that might hinder this deal."
"Oh, yeah?" Starsky moved over to Guitterez and pulled on his tie so that they were face to face. Starsky's eyes were almost black with fury. The federal agent tried to turn his eyes away, but the detective wouldn't let him. "And you give your client a warning from me. If he comes anywhere near me, my partner or his wife, I will shoot him with the least provocation. You got that?"
"Starsky--" Dobey growled again. Starsky knew the Captain would not warn him a third time. He was already trying his superior's patience and Dobey would not hesitate to charge him with insubordination if he pushed any further. That would not do him—or Hutch any good. Starsky flipped the tie up into Guitterez's face and then released it. He moved away.
"We were not aware that Sergeant Hutchinson's wife was involved in this incident." Frowning, Witherspoon spoke for the first time and his remark surprised the dark haired detective. "What is her name—and she lives at the Bayview Avenue address?"
"Jill-and of course she lives with Hutch. They're married. You guys are slipping. She's a social worker. Jill was working with the Rogers family. She went in to try to talk to Joe during the stand-off the other day."
The federal agents exchanged glances. "Mr. Rogers did not share that information with us. Is someone staying with her while Sergeant Hutchinson is in the hospital?"
"I'm watching her. So you guys even think Rogers could go after Jill!" Starsky's anger was kindled again.
"The fact that Joe didn't mention this concerns us, yes. He is in protective custody. We do not anticipate he will jeopardize his deal.
"And just what his deal? What are you charging Rogers with in Hutch's shooting anyway?"
"I am not at liberty to--" Guitterez started to say, but Starsky interrupted.
"Stuff your confidentiality clause, Guitterez. You know I can find out about the warrant."
"All right. Assault with a deadly weapon. and of course we will also take the jail breaks into consideration, too."
"That's a slap on the wrist!"
"He will serve the maximum." Witherspoon said, as if that should appease Starsky.
Starsky snorted. "That's still a slap on the wrist. He should be going down for life for attempted murder of a police officer and you know it."
Ignoring Starsky's remark, Guitterez glanced at his watch. "We have to be going, Captain." Witherspoon shut off the tape recorder and picked it up. "We will provide you with a copy of the tape if you wish. We have another meeting. It was a pleasure meeting you, Sergeant Starsky." his tone held an undercurrent of sarcasm.
"Oh, the pleasure was all mine." Starsky replied in the same sarcastic undertone.
"Good-bye, Captain Dobey."
" Guitterez- Witherspoon." the Captain nodded at them and they left the office. Starsky fell into one of the chairs the federal agents had just vacated and put his feet on the Captain's desk. For once Dobey didn't yell at him to put them down.
"Cap'n- there is somethin' those turkeys ain't telling us and I have a bad feeling about them. Did you check them out?"
"They had ID. Are you suggesting they aren't who they claim to be?"
"Or they're poor excuses for feds. Didn't you think it was strange they didn't know about Jill? The Feds we know would have done their homework and would have known all about her, down to her shoe size."
"Starsky, just because they do sloppy work doesn't mean they're shady," Dobey reasoned.
"Yeah-I guess." he still wasn't totally convinced.
"Where do you want to go from here?"
"I'll pull Joe Rogers' and Reynoldo Rosetti's sheets. There may be somethin' in there." Starsky swept his feet off the desk and stood up. Dave left the office and exited the squad room to go down to R and I. He asked the clerk for the two files he wanted and took them back up to the squad room. He sat down at his desk and downed the rest of his coffee, then filled the cup again and added a generous helping of sugar. Starsky opened the file on Rogers, but the words on the page swam before his eyes. He couldn't concentrate. His thoughts returned to Hutch in the hospital. Even though he knew his best friend was out of the woods now and was getting better, it still pained him to know Hutch was hurt. He glanced over at the messy desk across from him-it was just like Hutch had left it five days ago now. What a slob, he thought to himself. This was going to be so hard. No Hutch to tease him about his car. About his eating habits. No Hutch there to hash out the details of the case, to go over suspects. Starsky rubbed his eyes and focused on the file in front of him. He leafed through the pages. There was his report of Rogers' arrest on assault charges after he and Hutch had finally talked Molly Rogers into pressing charges. Apparently Molly was not the only person he had beaten up. He had two previous arrests of starting fights with two guys in a bar within six months of each other four years ago. A note also indicated the man had a juvenile record, but of course that would be sealed. Starsky closed Rogers' file and opened Reynoldo Rosetti's. Now this guy had a rap sheet as long as his arm. All arrests for suspicion of drug trafficking, suspicion of murder, suspicion of drug possession with intent to sell, but only one conviction on an assault charge. He had only served a year. The conviction was overturned on a technacality. In prison at the same time as Joe Rogers. Starsky wanted this scum off the streets-Rosetti belonged in jail-but he just didn't like the way it was going down. Dave leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hand. He banged the file shut angrily. Why was he wasting his time? There wasn't a case here. Before when either one of the partners was hurt, the other one went after the bad guy responsible so there was always a case to solve. This time the feds had the bad guy and they had tied up the case with a neat little bow: Rogers' testimony would put Rosetti away for a long time. But something was gnawing at Starsky. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong and he trusted his instinct just as much as he trusted Hutch. The feds had tied it up too neatly. There was something he had overlooked,or not heard. God, Hutch, why aren't you here? I need you. They worked best when they could bounce thoughts and ideas off each other. One of them could see something the other didn't. He couldn't take a feeling to Dobey: the Captain would demand evidence and he had zilch. Well, he did have the names of the officers who had arrested Rosetti. Maybe there was a lead there. He just couldn't give up, not when this gnawing feeling that something was wrong continued to eat at him. Starsky picked up the receiver of the phone and punched in an extension. After two rings, the phone was answered on the other end.
"Yeah-Ritterman-"
"Ritterman-this is Dave Starsky. You were one of the officers that arrested Reynoldo Rosetti on a drug possession charge about 12 years ago." he consulted the file on his desk.
"Yeah-what about it, Starsky?"
"Did the feds get involved in that case?"
"Naw. That was way before he was a big time dealer. He was still only a street pimp at that time. He and his son had a two bit operation over on the south side."
"His son?" Starsky took out his notebook and made a note.
Yeah, the kid was only about 15 at the time. He'd been busted for pedaling drugs on the campus of Riverview High School. The kid was released when he was 18, then went back in for drugs again. He was killed in a knife fight in prison a year later. That's when Rosetti started moving up in the world. Became a mean SOB. Some people think he went a little crazy over his son's death."
"So there is a sheet on his son. What's the name?"
"Uh-Orlando, I think. But the last name isn't Rosetti. Rosetti never married his mother so he had her name. Uh-Suarez. Yeah, that's it. Orlando Suarez."
"And did Rosetti know the cops that put his son in the second time?"
"Yeah. Let me think a minute." there was a pause which seemed to last forever to Starsky, then Ritterman continued, "John Corlew. Over in Robbery. It's been so long I don't remember who he was partnered with at the time. Some rookie, I think. That would have been about the time you and Hutch joined the force, right?"
"Right. Thanks, Ritterman. You've been a big help."
Starsky hung up the phone and rubbed his tired eyes again. He told Ritterman he'd been a big help, but what the other cop had told him still didn't feel like much. Maybe his bad feeling just came from the fact that Joe was going to get a light sentence and he'd be back on the streets in a few years. Maybe his gut feeling that Joe was going to come after him or Hutch or Jill was unfounded. After all, the man was in protective custody and that federal agent said they didn't anticipate Joe jeopardizing his deal. But of course there was always the basic stupidity of the criminal mind...Starsky's stomach growled and he glanced at his watch. 11:30. Lunchtime. He'd had an early breakfast. He would check with the other officers named in the report later. Starsky drained the rest of the coffee from the cup. Sweeping the files up in his hand, he rose from the chair and left the squad room. He returned the files to R and I, then rode the elevator to the first floor. He went out the front door of the precinct and got into the Torino. Gunning the powerful engine, he drove to The Pits, Huggy's bar, to kill two birds with one stone: to eat and get some information. He parked in the back as he usually did and sauntered into the back door. Starsky slid into a booth as Huggy saw him and came over to him. He slid into the booth across from him.
"Starsky, my man. How's the blond half of the dynamic duo?"
"He's doing better. Need a favor, Hug. Can you keep your ear to the ground about Rogers?"
"The dude that shot Hutch—and beats on his wife?"
"That's the one. He's being sprung by the feds. Seems he can give them some drug kingpin which to them overrules an attempted murder charge on a cop."
"That stinks. So the guy's gonna walk for shooting Blondie?"
"Not if I can help it." Starsky shot back.
"Who's the druggie?"
"Reynoldo Rosetti."
Huggy whistled. "O-o, Heavy dude. No wonder the feds want him. What's the connection between Rogers and Rosetti?"
"They were in prison together."
"You'd better watch your back, too, Starsky. If Rosetti comes after you..." his voice trailed off.
"I'm more worried about Hutch and Jill, Hug. Right now they're both vulnerable: Hutch in the hospital. Jill-just –Jill. I promised Hutch. I can take care of myself."
"Yeah-" blue eyes locked on to brown ones and that one word carried all of the weight of their feelings for each other and the Hutchinsons.
"Get me a special and a root beer, huh, Huggy?" Starsky looked away first and broke the silence.
"You got it." the lean black man slid out of the booth. "Where can I get in touch with you?"
"I'll be at the precinct."
Huggy just nodded and walked back to the kitchen to give them Starsky's order. After he ate his lunch, he returned to the precinct.
Jill looked up from the book when she heard Hutch stir and moan. She closed the book and laid it down in the chair behind her as she got up. Suddenly a wave of dizziness hit her hard. Thinking she had just rose from the chair too fast, Jill tried to regain her footing. Instead she collapsed in a heap and darkness overcame her.
"Jill?" Hutch called out for his wife as he awoke and rolled his head to the side where he knew the chair was. That's when he saw the slumped form of his wife on the floor. "Jill! Oh, my God!" Not even thinking about his injuries, Hutch threw the sheet back and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The wound in his leg screeched in protest and pain shot up and down his body, so powerful that he clenched his teeth against the agony and nearly dropped to his knees. He grabbed the side of the bed with his good arm to right himself. Hutch could feel the stitches in his leg separate. He tried to relax in an attempt to stop the pain and leaned over to pick up the nurse call button. That simple movement aggravated the shoulder wound and he again clenched his teeth against the pain. He punched at the call button over and over, murmuring, 'Come on, where are you?' until the familiar voice of the red headed nurse came through the intercom.
"Yes, Mr. Hutchin-" that's as far as she got.
"My wife! She's fainted or something. She's in a heap on the floor. Get in here!"
Hutch released the button and put it back, then noticed that blood was seeping through the stitches in his leg. He was also starting to perspire again from the exertion-or was he developing another fever? He groaned in pain and worry about Jill. She was so close and yet so far. Normally he could go to her. Damn Rogers for putting him in this hospital bed and he cursed himself for being in so much pain he couldn't get to her. He should be able to endure it: he should be able to endure anything to get to Jill. The nurse burst through the door, followed by another nurse he didn't recognize.
"Detective Hutchinson! What are you doing? Get back in that bed!" the red headed nurse scolded him as she moved over to him while the other nurse ran over to Jill.
"I have to get to her. Please-help me. I have to get to her!" Hutch tried to get up once more, but the pain shooting through his body stopped him cold once again.
"We'll see to her. Now get back into bed." the red headed nurse swung his legs back under the covers, but not before seeing the blood now trickling from the wound in his thigh. "You've torn the stitches, Sergeant. We'll have to re-stitch."
"I don't care about me. How's Jill? Jill!" he shouted as he fought the nurse as she laid him down again.
The other nurse had picked Jill up from the floor and put her in the chair. She was checking her pupils, then her vital signs.
"What happened, Sergeant Hutchinson?"
"I don't know!" he screamed at her. "I woke up and she was on the floor! That's all I know. Is she ok? Jill? Come on, babe, wake up."
"Sergeant, calm down." the red headed nurse tried to soothe him. His blond hair was stuck to his forehead and his sky blue eyes were wild with worry.
"Don't tell me to calm down! Dammit, tell me what's wrong with my wife!"
The red headed nurse punched the nurse call button and summoned another nurse to the room, telling her to bring in a gurney, then she paged the doctor. When the other nurse arrived, the red headed nurse put her in charge of Hutch who was still ranting and she and the other nurse laid Jill down on the gurney. Then she left the room to get the suture material and needle to repair Hutch's wound, along with another syringe with the pain killer. As she arrived at the door of Ken's room, the doctor came from the other way.
"What's the problem?"
"Mrs. Hutchinson fainted. Sergeant Hutchinson tried to get out of bed to help her and he tore the stitches in his leg."
They went into 414 together. The doctor went over to Jill while the red headed nurse returned to Hutch to stitch up his leg wound and then give him the shot.
Jill moaned as she slowly opened her eyes to find a light shining into them.
"Wh-what happened?" Then she forgot herself as she saw the nurse at Ken's bedside. "Ken! Is he all right?" she tried to get up again, but she had another dizzy spell and fell back on the gurney.
"He's ok, Mrs. Hutchinson. You fainted and he tried to get up to help you. Do you remember what happened?" the other nurse asked.
"Ken was waking up. I got up from my chair too fast. I felt dizzy. That's the last thing I remember."
"Did you have a headache or backache or chest pain or abdominal pain before you fainted?" When Jill shook her head, the nurse continued, "How about shortness of breath or any weakness?" Again Jill shook her head. "Did you eat breakfast this morning?"
"Yes-really early. Dave and I went to the cafeteria about 6, I think."
"And how much sleep did you get last night?"
"I don't know. About three hours. I woke up when Ken's fever broke."
"We're going to run some tests on you, Mrs. Hutchinson. Blood work, EEG to see if there's any unusual brain activity. Lay still for about 15 minutes, then I'll be back with a wheelchair for you."
"Can I see Ken? Tell him I'm leaving for a little while?"
"Yes. I'll roll the gurney over to the side of his bed. You can talk to him." the nurse replied. She pushed the gurney over to Hutch's bed. Jill picked up his right hand and squeezed. He rolled his head over to look at her and smiled weakly.
"Jill?"
"I'm here, babe. What were you trying to do, my white knight in shining armor, save me?"
"That's what knights in shining armor do. Are you all right?"
"I'm ok. They want to run some tests. I'll be back before you know it."
"No!" he protested, squeezing her hand tighter. The shout was a pathetic one—like a little boy watching the toy he wants most in the whole world sold to someone else. "Stay with me."
"Sh-h. Hutch. I'll be back. I promise."
They held hands and talked until the nurse came in with a wheelchair. She helped Jill into it and they wheeled her off.
After two hours of poking, prodding and testing, Jill was returned to the waiting room on the 4th floor. The nurse told her Hutch was still sleeping and that they were rushing her tests through. They should know something in a couple of hours. She sat down in a chair and waited. Again. Her stomach grumbled and she realized she had missed lunch. Jill went over to the candy machine and popped a quarter in to get a candy bar. She ate it and then laid her head back on the chair to close her eyes.
Jill was awakened by a hand on her shoulder. As she slowly opened her eyes, she saw the doctor standing above her.
"Ken? What happened?"
"He's fine. He's still sleeping, Mrs. Hutchinson. We got your test results back. Everything looks fine. Let me ask you something. When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?"
"The night you gave me those pills, I slept pretty good. But I guess I haven't been sleeping very well for the past month-" she admitted meekly." I'm a social worker and I've been working late at the office and had some cases weighing heavy on my mind. And then this happened..." she trailed off.
"Then by the process of elimination I would say you're suffering from exhaustion. I want you to go home and rest. I'll give you some stronger sleeping pills."
"No, I can't. Ken-"
"You can't do Sergeant Hutchinson any good if you're worn out-" the doctor said sternly. "Now I'm going to restrict you to seeing your husband only during the evening. I want you to go home and sleep during the day."
"For how many days?
"A few , Mrs. Hutchinson. Come back and see me next Tuesday. I'll give you a doctor's excuse for work. You can call your boss, too. Can you call your dark haired friend and have him take you home?"
"Dave-yes. I'll call the precinct."
She went over to the bank of phones and made her calls to Gretchen and the precinct.
"Starsky, get in here-" Captain Dobey ordered as Starsky finished up a long overdue report. He tossed it into the out box and followed the big man back into his office.
"What is it, Cap'n?" Dave asked as he plopped down into one of the chairs facing the Captain's desk.
"You need to get back over to the hospital--" Starsky's blood ran cold and the color drained from his face.
"Hutch?" He jumped up from the chair and headed for the door. Dammit, what now? His partner had been doing so well. What the hell had happened?
"No-Jill. She fainted. The doc thinks it's exhaustion and worry."
"I don't doubt that." Starsky turned back and looked at the Captain. "Hutch told me she'd been working late most nights for the past month. That's why he didn't feel so guilty about our late hours on the Robinson drug bust. Has he gone on his guilt trip yet?" Knowing his partner as well as he did, Starsky was certain Hutch would find a way to blame himself for this.
"He doesn't know yet. Apparently he pulled the stitches out of his leg when he tried to get out of bed to help Jill."
"Ow-" Starsky grimaced in sympathetic pain. "But Hutch is always the white knight. So they stitched him up again?"
Captain Dobey nodded. "And knocked him out with more pain medication. He's still sleeping. Doc wants Jill to rest. Take her home and make sure that she does. She won't do Hutchinson any good if she wears herself out."
"I'll take care of it, Cap'n."
"She said the doctor is restricting her to seeing Hutch only during evening visiting hours so you'll be on nights for the duration. Stay with her during the days."
"Got it, Cap'n." he saluted and left Dobey's office.
"What in the hell were you doing-trying to kill yourself?" Dave asked Jill after they had gotten into the Torino and he headed for Jill's apartment. "You ain't gonna be any good to Hutch if you're a zombie."
"I know. I'm sorry. Don't start, Dave. I've already been yelled at by the doctor." she rubbed her tired eyes and Starsky immediately felt guilty for yelling at her. She didn't need that right now.
"I'm sorry. It's just—dammit, Jill, you have to take care of yourself."
"I thought I could handle the late nights. I guess I found out I can't."
"When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?"
"I did sleep well that night I took the pills the doctor gave me, like I told you. I guess that's the first and last time for about the past month."
"The last month? And you never complained about it to Hutch?" he could feel his anger at her rising again.
"And just when was I supposed to do that, David?" she shot back. Starsky knew she was really angry when she used his given name. "I hardly ever saw him. You two were on stakeouts almost every night, so wrapped up in that big drug bust you were working on." The two partners had finally caught a drug dealer they had been tracking for almost a month two nights before the shooting at the Rogers. Hutch had told Starsky Jill was usually understanding about their jobs and the long hours it sometimes entailed, so Dave guessed that the worry and fatigue weighing heavily on her was the reason for her outburst. Taking one of his hands off the wheel, he ran his hand through his dark hair.
"Right. You know Hutch will blame himself for this."
"I know. He does tend to do that, doesn't he?" sighing, she sank against the seat and closed her eyes. "I'll deal with it when the time comes." Dave let her rest for the remainder of the trip . He parked in front of their apartment. Then he gently shook Jill's shoulder.
"Come on, sleepyhead. Let's get you up to the apartment." He helped her out of the car and up the stairs to the apartment. Jill unlocked the door and Dave pushed it open for her, then followed her inside. He steered her toward the master bedroom and sat her on the edge of the bed. She took off her shoes while Dave went into the bathroom to bring her a glass of water to wash down the sleeping pills the doctor had given her. She slid under the covers and turned over on her side. Jill closed her eyes and was soon fast asleep. Dave went back into the living room and turned on the TV to absently watch a soap opera.
Meanwhile Guitterez and Witherspoon held a struggling Joe Rogers between them as they took him down a hallway and into an office. Reynoldo Rosetti, a wiry man with black hair and cruel brown eyes looked up when they came in. Two of his goons stood up and came to stand by Rosetti.
"Hello, Joe-" Rosetti's smile was wide, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Glad you could join our little party."
"Rosetti-" Joe's voice was hoarse with panic. Guitterez and Witherspoon didn't have him in protective custody: they had him in Rosetti's custody. They were in Rosetti's pocket. And nobody knew it. "What do you want with me?"
"Oh, Joey, Joey, let's not talk business right away. Have some refreshments." Rosetti snapped his fingers and one of the goons picked up a tray from a nearby table to move over to Rogers. It was laden with finger sandwiches.
"No, thanks. I ain't hungry." Even though he was hungry, he wasn't about to take the chance that they were poisoned.
"They aren't poisoned, I assure you, Joe." Rosetti said silkily as if he had read Rogers' mind.
"I ain't hungry, I told you!"
"Fine, fine. Jimmy, Nicky, take Joe to his new quarters."
The two goons moved over to Joe and each one took an arm. They dragged a struggling Rogers out of the room. Rosetti addressed Guitterez and Witherspoon.
"Any problems with the local constabulary?"
"No, sir. That police captain Dobey fell for us hook, line and sinker."
"Good. Now it's time for phase two-the Hutchinsons."
"The cop's still in the hospital. It would be easy to whack him there." one of the other henchman in the room said.
"No!" Rosetti rumbled. "I want them to go down together-after I remind them when their paths crossed mine the first time. I'm like an elephant. I never forget a wrong done to me-or mine." he smiled, an evil gleam in his eye.
"And that blond cop and his wife are going to pay for it-the last thing they'll ever do together." His smile turned malevolent.