CHAPTER 9

A ragged moan escaped Starsky's throat as he slowly opened his eyes. When he found himself in total darkness, he panicked momentarily until he realized that something was tied tightly around his eyes.

Further exploration informed him that his hands were tied securely behind his back, and that he was lying on his side on a cold hard surface that felt like cement. There was a musty smell to the air, and it was hot and stuffy, as if he was somewhere that hadn't been used in quite some time.

He listened but could only hear a heavy silence. No traffic sounds, no muffled voices, none of the ordinary sounds of the city he would expect to hear. He assumed that he was alone since he didn't feel the presence of anyone else close by.

"Hutch?" he called out softly in a husky voice. He sensed that he was alone. Hutch had not been abducted with him, or if he had, he was being held in a different location. Still, he needed to be sure. When silence was the only response to his call, he knew that his partner was not with him.

Starsky knew if Hutch was out there, he wouldn't stop looking until he found his missing partner. And a worried Hutch was a sight to behold. God help anyone who tried to stand in his way or who hurt his partner before Hutch could find him. As long as he knew Hutch was out there looking for him, Starsky could handle anything that his abductor decided to do to him.

The soft click of a door opening alerted Starsky to someone entering his makeshift prison.

A draft of cool air was a blessing to Starsky's hot, flushed skin, but a sharp kick to his unprotected ribs caught him unaware. With a grunt, he curled up into a fetal position to try and protect the more vulnerable parts of his anatomy.

More kicks fell, hitting soft flesh and, at other times, solid bone. Either way, each blow was meant to hurt. The attack seemed to last for an eternity. By the time it ended, Starsky was battered, bruised and dazed. His ribs hurt, and it was difficult to take a deep breath.

A rough whisper said in his ear, "This is only the beginning, pig…you don't know what pain is yet…" The voice was course and hard to understand but Starsky was sure it was a man. The speaker was obviously disguising his voice, which meant it was probably someone Starsky would recognize. With an evil chuckle, Starsky's abductor left him alone to nurse his wounds as best he could.

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"I'm telling you somebody put something in our drinks at the bar!" Hutch insisted hotly.

"But who?" Captain Dobey asked patiently. He kept his voice calm and level. He was well aware of the blond detective's short fuse when his partner was missing.

"There three other men there besides me and Starsky. Randy, Lonnie and Cliff. I'd put my money on Cliff. He's a mean son of a bitch with a bad attitude and a violent streak." Hutch sighed heavily and sank down into the chair in front of the desk. "Hell, for all I know it could have been the waitress or any one of a few dozen customers that were in there that night."

"But, why take Starsky and not you?"

"I don't know," Hutch snapped in an irritated tone. "Maybe they didn't like Starsky's looks, or maybe he did something to piss them off. He's good at that."

Personally, Dobey thought that Hutch did more than his fair share of pissing people off, too, but he wisely decided to keep that comment to himself.

"I'll put out a missing officer alert on him and run another background check on this Cliff character."

"You better check out Lonnie just to be on the safe side." Hutch told him. "But, there wasn't anything that stood out when we checked them out the first time. Even Cliff's record consists of mostly assaults and bar fights, nothing that suggests something as stupid as trying to go after a cop."'

"Most of the people connected with the show don't know that you're cops," Dobey reminded him. "As far as they're concerned, you're Mandy's newest fling, and Starsky is just your buddy who works on the crew."

"Did the background check come back on Mandy's fiancé?"

"Yes, it came in this morning." Dobey rustled through a pile of papers on his desk until he found the report he was searching for. "Jimmy Dalton. 28 years old. Met Mandy while she was still in high school and they've been together ever since. Only child. Parents killed in car accident just after he turned 18. No other living relatives. No criminal record. He's the manager of a local club in his hometown where Mandy used to perform."

"Sounds squeaky clean." Hutch sighed heavily. "Mandy said he was the one that suggested that we make it look like Mandy and I were an item to explain my suddenly being added as an opening act to the show. So, he knew we were cops. And Sue Anne Granger is the one who suggested using us to Mandy's manager. But, it wouldn't be that hard to find out who we really were if someone decided to dig deep enough."

"You still think this is personal and not just some obsessed fan?"

"You bet I do. Especially since they went after Starsky like that. That makes it very personal as far as I'm concerned."

"So is someone just trying to scare her away from the awards show or is there a more sinister motive behind all this?"

"I think someone has an entirely different agenda than we think they do. I think someone wants Mandy dead and wants to make it look like it was an obsessed fan behind it."

"Before or after the awards show?"

"I don't know…hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they try to pull something during the show. I think we need to double the back stage security and add a personal bodyguard for Mandy. Someone from the department that we know we can trust."

"How about Linc Jackson?"

"Perfect." Hutch nodded his approval. Jackson was a transplanted southerner who still had his Tennessee drawl and was a major fan of country music. He was also an excellent marksman and held a black belt in karate. And with his long hair and cowboy boots, he sure didn't look like a cop.

"I'll give him a call and get things set up from this end. Where will you be?"

"Hunting," Hutch replied with a thin smile as he turned and left the office.