CHAPTER 7

"Thought you might want to hear the latest hit on the top forty hit parade," Starsky drawled as he sauntered into Hutch's office and tossed a tiny cassette tape down on the desk. "Found that little gem on my machine this morning."

Hutch opened his desk and took out a tiny tape recorder. Inserting the cassette he pushed the play button and listened to the single message. When the tape had finished, he shut off the machine, ejected the tape and looked Starsky with an arched brow.

"Any idea who your secret admirer is?"

"Nope," Starsky slouched down in one of the chairs facing the desk and stretched his legs out in front of him. Even in his relaxed state, he radiated an intimidating presence that seemed to fill the room. But, Hutch was not a man who was easily intimidated by anyone.

"You think somebody's just trying to pull your chain?"

"Maybe."

"Why give it to me? Why not turn it in to the police?"

Starsky shrugged. "Don't much matter one way or the other. Can't identify 'em even if we had a solid suspect. So, what now, counselor?"

"Do you mind if I hang on to this for a few days? I have a friend in the linguistics department at UCLA that might be able to listen to it and tell us a little more about your mysterious caller."

"Knock yourself out."

"Why don't you go home and lay low for now?" Hutch suggested, slipping the cassette into his jacket pocket. "I'll be in touch if I hear anything."

"I'd rather go out and get laid," Starsky said dourly "Better stress reliever."

"I wouldn't know," Hutch said just as dourly. "It's been a while." He flushed involuntarily at his slip of the tongue when he saw the ghost of a smile that crossed Starsky's face. Once more he found himself wondering what there was about this particular client that had gotten under his skin so quickly.

"Might wanna do something about that," Starsky said in a mocking tone. "Blue balls can be a bitch."

"Like I said, I'll be in touch if I hear anything." Hutch said as he tried to divert the conversation back to a more neutral topic. He deliberately turned his attention back to the paperwork on the desk dismissing the smirking brunet. He didn't look up until he heard the office door close with a soft click.

He spent the morning catching up on the never ending paperwork that seemed to clutter his desk and then decided to go over to the University to see what his friend could tell him about the tape in his pocket.

It was a typical California day: hot and muggy with a gray overcast to the sky. Nestled in a low basin surrounded by mountains, Bay City was notorious for its smog. The thousands of vehicles in the area plus the Los Angeles/Long Beach port complexes all contributed to an increase in the air pollution and frequently irritated Hutch's own allergies to pollen and animal dander.

Climbing into his car, Hutch eased into the noon day traffic and headed for the Westwood neighborhood of Los Angeles. U.C.L.A. was the largest university in the state of California in terms of student body and one of the most popular universities in the United States. Hutch had received both his under-graduate and graduate degree from there. It had been farthest he could get from Duluth, Minnesota and his over-bearing parents. It was there that he had met Vanessa in the middle of his freshman year.

The sprawling campus had 163 buildings spread across 419 acres. Hutch found a vacant spot in the parking lot outside the building that housed the University's linguistics' department. He pocketed his keys as he walked into the building, breathing a sigh of relief as he entered the air conditioned interior.

He crossed marble-floored lobby and took an elevator to the tenth floor. Thick carpeting muffled his footsteps as he strode down the hallway and stopped in front of a door with the nametag 'Roger Bennet' discreetly displayed to one side. He rapped lightly and waited until a voice from inside the office called in a muffled tone "Come in. It's open."

He opened the door and stepped into the casually decorated office. Bennet was a former schoolmate of Hutch's who had chosen to make academia his career. He was short and thin with thick black rimmed glasses and a tiny brown mustache. His thinning hair was badly in need of a trim and his charcoal colored slacks were rumbled. He glanced up at Hutch and a pleased smile crossed his face at the sight of his old college buddy.

"Hey, Hutchinson," he said in a surprisingly deep voice. "What brings you all the way down to my neck of the woods?"

"This…" Hutch said as he pulled the tiny cassette out of his jacket and handed it across the desk. "I need to know if you'll give this a listen and tell me anything you can about the caller.

"Let's see what you got," Roger said. He turned and put the tape into an elaborate machine sitting on a second desk behind him. He pushed a button and listened intently to the tape. When it had ended, he shut it off and took the tape out of the machine. Handing it back to Hutch, he said, "Off hand, I'd say it's definitely a male…probably in his late twenties to mid-thirties. Possibly from the Midwest originally but he's been out here long enough for his speech to become a bit blurred. Does that help?"

"A little. At least now we know it's a male." Hutch said as he slipped the tape back into his pocket. "That's more than we could tell just by listening to it."

"What can I say? I'm gooood…" Roger chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. "It's been a long time…we really need to get together sometime. Have a couple of drinks and catch up."

"Yeah," Hutch agreed "I don't seem to see any of the old gang anymore."

"Well, if I remember correctly, the ice queen never approved of any of us mere mortals."

"She still doesn't."

"You're still together?" Roger said with an arched brow. "I'm surprised. I figured you two would have split by now and that Vanessa would have moved on to bigger and better things."

"To be honest I think it's just a matter of time," Hutch was surprised that it didn't hurt more to say those words out loud. Just another symptom of a slowly dying marriage. There was a time when it would have felt disloyal to say such a thing but, now, it just didn't matter any more. "I'd really like to stay longer but I need to get back to my office. I'll give you a call soon and we'll get together."

"Sure. You do that." Roger said. The two men smiled at each other, each of them knowing that neither of them would be likely to make that call anytime soon.

"Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it," Hutch said

"Any time. Glad I could be of assistance."

Hutch left the office. As he crossed the lobby, a co-ed who appeared to be in her early twenties smiled at him seductively as they exited the building together. She pouted, flipping her long blonde hair in frustration when Hutch smiled and then continued on his way without striking up a conversation.

Traffic was heavy on the way back to Bay City and it was late afternoon before Hutch arrived back at his office. He checked his messages and returned a few phone calls before deciding to call it a day.

He was mildly surprised to find Vanessa there when he got home. Even more surprising was the delicious smell coming from the kitchen and the two candles flickering on the dining room table. Since Vanessa couldn't cook and they couldn't keep a housekeeper for more than a few days at a time, it was apparent that Vanessa had had the meal delivered from one of the neighborhood restaurants.

"Did I forget our anniversary or something?" Hutch asked with a trace of sarcasm in his voice as he stripped off his suit jacket, tossing it over the back of the sofa as he loosened his tie.

"Can't I do something nice for my husband for a change?" Vanessa cooed in a sultry voice that Hutch recognized far too well.

"That depends," Hutch said wearily. "I'm too tired to play games with you tonight, Van. What do you want?'

"You don't have to be so rude," she snapped, annoyed that he didn't appreciate her efforts to do something to please him. "And what makes you think that I want anything?"

"Because I know you and you never go all out like this unless you want something…and it's usually money." Although his stomach growled hungrily, he didn't relish the idea of sharing a meal with Vanessa.

"Would it surprise you to know that it's not money I'm interested in this time?" Vanessa sneered. She crossed to the table and deliberately blew out the candles.

"What do you want?" Hutch asked too tired to take the bait and start another fight.

"I want a divorce." Vanessa said in a tightly controlled voice that sounded both cold and bitter. Her eyes glittered angrily as she glared at her husband with disdain. Her sudden shift from loving wife to shrew came as no surprise to Hutch. This was a side of Vanessa that he had become painfully familiar with over the past few months. Still, her words sent a cold chill down his spine and his stomach twisted into a painful knot. "I've already talked to an attorney."

"Are we going to discuss this like two adults or are you going to start screaming and breaking things?"

"I think we've gone way beyond that." Vanessa said with a thin smile. "There's a suitcase packed in the bedroom. I want you out of here tonight."

"Just like that?" Hutch snorted. "Why should I be the one to leave?"

"Because if you don't, my dear…I will make your life a living hell."

"What makes you think you haven't done that already?" He was almost ashamed of the satisfaction he felt when he saw the surprise and hurt in her eyes. Almost. But the look only lasted only a couple of seconds before it was replaced by rage, and he knew he had to move quickly if he was to avoid hellfire and brimstone.

"Fine, if that's the way you want it," he growled as he brushed past her and stalked into the bedroom. He grabbed his shaving kit out of the bathroom and the suitcase sitting on the floor beside the bed. In the living room, he paused long enough to grab his treasured guitar from the hallway closet before leaving the apartment for the last time.

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