Chapter 7

"Jill? Where's my wife?" Hutch asked the red headed nurse as he looked around the room for Jill after waking up from his nap. He could smell the food before he saw it on the tray in front of him so he guessed it was around dinnertime.

"The doctor sent her home. She'll be back tonight to see you."

"Why did he send her home?" Then he remembered the fainting incident this morning. "Oh, God, she fainted. What happened? Tell me what happened!" Hutch was agitated again as he tried to sit up in the bed. His face contorted as both the leg and shoulder wound sent shafts of pain through his body.

"Sergeant Hutchinson, calm down." the nurse came over and helped him sit up. "I'll page the doctor and he'll give you the whole story." she went to the intercom and paged the doctor. He came into the room a few moments later.

"You're awake, Sergeant. You are looking much better."

"Yeah, yeah. Cut the pleasantries. What's wrong with my wife? Why did she faint?"

"She was exhausted."

"Exhausted?" Hutch echoed.

The doctor told Hutch what Jill had told him about working late and not being able to sleep, then her long hours here at the hospital since Hutch had been shot.

"But she was always asleep when I got home."

"Mrs. Hutchinson said she'd wake up and couldn't get back to sleep."

"Oh, God, why didn't I see that?" Hutch plowed a hand through his blond hair. "I should have seen it. Did you give her something?"

The doctor nodded. "Stronger sleeping pills than I gave her the other day. I ordered her to go home and rest. She will only be allowed to see you during evening visiting hours. She's to sleep during the day. Your dark haired friend promised he would make sure she did. He took her home."

"Yeah, Starsky will. Thank you, Doctor."

The doctor left the room and the nurse handed the fork to Hutch. "Enjoy your dinner."

She also left the room. But Hutch had lost his appetite. He pushed the food around on the plate as guilt ate at him. He should have seen it. No matter how busy he and Starsky had been on the Robinson case, he should have paid attention to his wife. Seen the dark smudges under her eyes. Seen the pinched look her face always had when she was overly tired. Noticed the tossing and turning as she laid beside him. He had been so exhausted himself every night after the stakeouts that he crawled into bed and slept like a hibernating bear. Ignoring her. But why hadn't she complained about it—told him she wasn't sleeping? Was it because she thought he had too much on his mind with the drug bust to bother him? He threw the fork down as he thought of something else. You weren't there, Hutchinson. You barely saw her for almost a month, except for a weekly lunch date and for a few hours on the weekends. And there were more important things to talk about- or do-during those short hours. Her imsomnia was hardly something to bring up after they had quenched the hot flames of their passion. Hutch pushed the tray of food away and reached for the phone with his good arm, grimacing as the movement shot pain through his chest. He dialed his own number. After two rings, the phone was answered and Starsky's familiar voice floated through the wires.

"Hello? Hutchinson residence-"

Without even bothering with the usual pleasantries, Hutch said, "Starsk, put Jill on. I have to talk to her."

"Well, hello to you, too, Hutch." Starsky teased. "They're letting you use the phone. You must be feeling better."

"Starsky-put Jill on the phone."

"No can do, partner. She's sleeping. Doctor's orders. Hasn't he been in to talk to you yet?"

"Yeah, he told me. Exhaustion. Why didn't I see it, Starsk? How could I miss she was wearing herself out?"

"Ah-I knew you would do this to yourself."

"Do what?"

"Take a guilt trip."

"That's because I am guilty!" Hutch yelled at his partner.

"You had other things on your mind—a big case." Starsky shot back.

"No! Nothing, not even a big case like the Robinson bust was, should come before Jill."

"It don't work that way, buddy—not in our line of work. Come on, Hutch, she knows she's gonna come second sometimes. She understands that." Starsky replied quietly. He wasn't going to tell Hutch about Jill's outburst on this very subject. "I didn't see it either, partner. I've been with her for the past four days. I should have seen it, too."

Hutch ran his hand through his blond hair and sighed. "Just tell her—I'm sorry."

"You two can work it out when we come in tonight."

"How is she, Starsk-really?" Hutch knew he would get an honest answer from his partner. Starsky had never lied to him.

"She's sleeping well. A few days of rest and I think she'll be fine. Don't worry. I'll take care of her. I promised you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. Thanks, buddy."

"See ya tonight."

Hutch hung up the phone and took another shot at his dinner. Since he wouldn't have anything else to do until visiting hours tonight, he thought he might as well eat. Then he knew the nurse would be in to give him a shot of the pain killer that would put him to sleep again. Eat and sleep. That would be his life for the next few days since his visits with Jill were now limited. He didn't like it, but that was the way it had to be. He didn't want to jeopardize Jill's health anymore. He ate a few more bites and then pushed the tray away again. He lowered himself to the bed carefully and waited for the nurse.

But even after dinner that night, Jill and Starsky did not show up during visiting hours. About 9:30 Hutch dialed his number again and Starsky answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Why are you still home? You were supposed to come and see me." the blond man sounded so much like a little boy whose parents had broken a promise to him that Starsky had to stifle a laugh.

"Sorry, Hutch. Jill's still asleep and I ain't gonna wake her up. She needs to rest."

"I know." Hutch sighed. "I just—miss her."

"Hey, what about me?" the dark haired man asked in mock hurt.

"You? Oh, yeah, I miss you, too, Gordo."

"Look, maybe the doctor will let us come in the morning tomorrow. It's Saturday. I don't have to work. Well, actually, I do. Dobey put me on nights so I can be with Jill during the day. Oh, by the way, there were two feds in Dobey's office about Rogers."

"Oh, yeah? What did they want?"

"They're springing Rogers, Hutch. And to tell us they have him in protective custody. And to assure me that he wouldn't do anything stupid like come after us." Starsky snorted. "He won't do anything to jeopardize his deal. See, he can give them Reynoldo Rosetti."

Hutch whistled at that name. "Big fish, huh? And what is Rogers' deal?"

"They're charging him with assault with a deadly weapon for shooting you. And for the jail breaks. It's a joke, Hutch. He'll be out before we know it." It felt good to be discussing this with his partner, even if it was over the phone. This is the way they worked. "I pulled Rogers and Rosetti's sheets. The only thing they have in common is that one year in prison. But I have a bad feeling about the whole thing, Hutch. The feds have just wrapped it up too neatly. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah. Have we worked with these feds before? Maybe they're on the take."

"No. These are two new guys. And they looked like the straight arrow feds we know and love." Starsky replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Their relationship with federal agents was rocky, at best, especially when they put guys like Rogers back out on the streets.

"Is there any connection between them and Rogers or Rosetti in their sheets?"

Starsky slapped his forehead at this oversight. "Why didn't I think of that? That's why I need you on this case with me, Hutch, to help me see things like that."

"No, you need me to do your job for you." the blond man teased him. "Go with your gut on this, Starsk. You've always had good instincts."

"But Dobey ain't gonna let me investigate a couple of feds without good reason."

"And when has that ever stopped you before?" Hutch snorted.

"Yeah, you're right. And if I can prove they are bad guys, too, then he can't get mad, right?" he sounded so much like a little boy rationalizing taking cookies out of a cookie jar when his mother told him no that Hutch started laughing, aggravating his shoulder wound.

"Right. Buddy, don't make me laugh. It hurts." he sucked his breath in to ease the pain.

"What did I do?" Starsky asked in all innocence. "That wasn't funny."

"The words weren't. It was the way you said them—like a little kid telling himself it was ok to take cookies from the cookie jar when his mother told him not to."

"Aw, Hutch, why'd you have to mention cookies? Now I'm hungry."

"You are always hungry. Didn't you have dinner?"

"Yeah. But that was hours ago. See you later, buddy. I gotta go eat."

"Let me know what you find out, huh?"

"I will. And Hutch-"

"Yeah?"

"Glad you're better, buddy. And I'm sorry about tonight."

"Yeah. Just take care of Jill. See you tomorrow."

Starsky pushed in the button to hang up from Hutch and dialed Dobey's number to tell him he wouldn't be in because Jill was still asleep. He hung up and went into the kitchen to take a beer out of the refrigerator and then made himself a sandwich. He watched the tail end of a drama show and then the early news while he ate, then checked on Jill. She was still sound asleep. He was glad to see that, even though it meant she wouldn't see Hutch tonight. Dave gathered up his plate and empty beer bottle and walked into the kitchen again to toss the bottle in the trash and put the plate in the sink. He returned to the living room and laid down on the sofa. Picking up the remote, he surfed through the channels until he found an old Bela Lugosi movie. When that was over, he found another monster movie—and fell asleep halfway through it.

Jill opened her eyes slowly and squinted at the clock on the dresser. 6:15. She squinted harder to see if it was morning or evening—she had no sense of how long she had been sleeping. It was morning. Jeez, she had slept for over 12 hours. And she had missed visiting hours at the hospital, missed seeing Hutch. Jill pushed back a lock of red gold hair that had fallen in her eyes and swung her legs over the side of the bed to stand up. Still feeling a bit wobbly, she steadied herself on the nightstand. When she had her 'sea legs' again, Jill moved out of the bedroom and went into the living room. There she found Dave sprawled out on the sofa on his stomach, his dark head buried in one of the throw pillows. The TV was on, blaring early morning cartoons. He apparently had fallen asleep watching one of those monster movies he loved. She went over to the set and turned it off, then moved over to Dave and shook his shoulder.

"Huh-wha-?" he opened one blue eye and looked at her. "Wha'time is it?" he sat up and plowed a hand through his dark hair, mussing it up even more.

"A little after 6—Saturday morning. We slept through visiting hours last night. I better call Ken--"

"Don't haveta. He called last night when we didn't show. I told him I wasn't waking you up to take you to the hospital." he stifled a yawn.

"I can't believe I slept this long!"

"It was good for you." he saw that the dark smudges under her eyes were not so black and the pinched look on her face was not so noticeable.

Dave disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower while Jill fixed coffee, French toast and sausages for breakfast, then she took her shower and dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. They left the apartment to go back to the hospital. They arrived around 9, but visiting hours didn't start until 10 so they had to cool their heels in the waiting room. The minute they were allowed in Hutch's room and he greeted them both, he then took his wife to task.

"Why in the hell didn't you tell me you weren't sleeping? When I came home at night, you were—or you were doing a damn good imitation of it."

"I probably was sleeping at the time, Ken. I'd wake up and couldn't get back to sleep, thinking about cases. And you looked so exhausted, I didn't want to bother you."

There it was, the reason Hutch dreaded she would give.

"Dammit, Jill! I don't care how tired I looked, you should have woke me up!" his voice softened. "I could have rubbed your back in the way that always puts you to sleep, hon." his blue eyes filled with tears. "Do you know how scared I was when I woke up and found you passed out on the floor? And I couldn't get to you?" he fumbled for her hand to take it into his good hand. "Don't ever do that to me again, okay? I don't want you to sacrifice your health to save mine."

"Ok. I'm sorry. You're right. I should have told you."

"It's not all your fault. I should have seen it, too. I was just too damn wrapped up in the Robinson case."

"Enough blaming. Just kiss and make up, you two." Starsky cut in, making his presence known. They had obviously forgotten he was still in the room.

"Come here, you--" Hutch pulled his wife down to him and kissed her. It was warm and full-full of forgiveness given and received. They parted, but Hutch still clung to her hand. He looked at her closely now, seeing the same thing Starsky had seen earlier. The dark smudges under her eyes were not so dark and the pinched look of her face was almost gone.

"You look more rested, babe."

"So do you. Maybe it's better that we didn't come around last night."

"No way. I missed you."

Just then the doctor came into the room and moved over to the bed. He glanced at Hutch's chart, then put it back in its holder.

"You are making excellent progress, Sergeant Hutchinson."

"Does that mean I can go home?"

The doctor smiled. "Not yet, I'm afraid. You'll stay with us for the rest of the weekend. You may be released Monday or Tuesday."

Hutch groaned. "Come on, doc. That's forever."

"It's only two more days, Ken." Jill pointed out. "Dave and I will be right here to get you through it."

"No, Mrs. Hutchinson. You are still on your restricted visiting schedule." he told her sternly, shaking a finger at her. "I'm telling you this so you would rest easier. But you are still going to rest. You look better today, but I still want you to take your pills until Tuesday—like I told you before. If we have to, we'll call in a home nurse to take care of both of you in the overlap. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Jill replied meekly, thoroughly chastened. The doctor left the room and Jill and Starsky and Hutch talked for another four hours.

"I really hate this. You have to go." Hutch said as he squeezed Jill's hand after the nurse came in to tell them visiting hours were over—and gave the blond man another shot of pain killer.

"I know, babe, so do I." Jill replied, leaning over to kiss him. He held her there for a moment, deepening the kiss so she knew he wasn't giving in to their forced separation without a fight. When she pulled away, her breath came in deep gulps.

"When I get out of here, we'll finish what we started-" he whispered to her, his blue eyes flashing with passion. "Even with this bum arm." Jill merely nodded, her green eyes gleamed with desire, too.

"I'll see you tomorrow, hon." she squeezed his hand once more.

"See ya, buddy-" Starsky moved behind Jill and squeezed Hutch's right shoulder.

"Let me know what you find out-"

Jill and Starsky left the hospital and headed for the Hutchinson apartment. Dave stayed with her throughout the rest of the day to make sure Jill took her sleeping pills and slept, then he returned to the precinct around 5. His first stop was R and I where he pulled Rogers and Rosetti's files again, then took them up to the squad room to sit down and peruse them more closely. He sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration. There was nothing there-no mention of either Guitterez or Witherspoon being involved in either Rogers or Rosetti's cases.

But he could continue his work from yesterday so he called Marshall, the other officer listed on the arrest report for Rosetti's drug bust. Marshall told him the same thing Ritterman did, but he added a detail Starsky wasn't expecting.

"Ask your partner about this arrest. He was in on it."

"Hutch? Are you sure?" the dark haired man couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I may not remember a lot of things, but I do remember that. He was still in uniform. He was partnered with Ritterman, I think. Have you talked to him yet?"

"Yeah. I called him yesterday. He said Hutch was with Corlew, though."

"That's right. He was. I guess my memory is failing me a little."

"Hutch never mentioned that bust to me, even then. I wonder why?"

"Don't know that, Starsky. My memory does fail me in the details of the bust. You'll have to read the report."

"Thanks, Marshall." Starsky hung up the phone and plucked his jacket from the back of the chair to shrug it on as he hurried from the squad room.

All the way to the hospital Starsky thought about Hutch's lapse of memory concerning Rosetti. Why hadn't he told him about Reynoldo? Hutch had a good memory-he remembered things that had happened in the academy that Starsky had completely forgotten about- so it seemed to Starsky that when he mentioned Rosetti by name, Hutch would have made the connection to that first drug possession bust. When he arrived at the hospital, the dark haired man parked, then took the elevator up to the 4th floor. At the nurse's station, he looked for the red headed nurse, but she wasn't there. So he caught the attention of a pretty blond and flashed his badge at her.

"Dave Starsky. Police business. I need to see Detective Hutchinson right away."

"He was sleeping the last time I checked, Sergeant Starsky."

"Can we check again? I really need to talk to him."

Starsky followed the nurse down the hall to 414 and held the door open for her, then went into the room behind her. He could see from the door that his partner was asleep.

"How long ago did you give him the pain killer?"

The nurse consulted Hutch's chart, hanging on the end of the bed. "About 3:30."

Starsky looked at his watch. It was a little before 6. If he was true to form, Hutch would probably wake up within the next hour. "Can I stay with him?"

"I don't know—" the nurse hesitated.

"Look, I'm not here as his friend right now." Starsky reminded her, pulling out his badge again. "This is police business."

"Then I guess it's all right."

The dark haired man sat down in the chair where he had spent a good deal of time over the past few days and watched Hutch. He looked so much better now than he had only a couple of days ago. His face had more color and the pinched look from the pain was gone now. Starsky knew his partner would be groggy when he woke up and it might take a while for Hutch to remember anything about Rosetti's son, but that feeling that had continued to gnaw at him had grown stronger. The feeling that it wasn't Joe Rogers they had to worry about coming after Hutch and Jill—it was Reynoldo Rosetti. But Starsky couldn't figure out why Rosetti had waited 12 years-and he still didn't really know how Rogers fit into this. Had the whole hostage situation at the Rogers' house really been an elaborate set-up to kill Hutch at Rosetti's demand? And what did those federal agents have to do with it? The questions he couldn't answer started to give Starsky a headache.

Soon Starsky heard the familiar moan of a Hutch waking up. He rose from his chair and went over to his partner.

"Hey, buddy-" he squeezed the blond man's shoulder.

"Hi, Starsk-where's Jill?"

"Still home. Sleeping. Remember she's limited to only one visit a day."

Oh, yeah. Then what are you doing here?"

"You, partner, have become part of my investigation into Rosetti." he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"What are you talking about? I don't know anything about Rosetti." Hutch attempted to sit up. Starsky helped him when he saw a grimace of pain cross the blond man's face.

"That's not what the reports I've been reading say. You were in on his first bust for drug possession. You, Corlew, Marshall and Ritterman. About 12 years ago? You were still in uniform?" the dark haired man was trying to give Hutch as many clues as he could to help jog his memory.

"Starsk, I don't-"

"I know you're still a little groggy right now, but please try to remember-anything-"

"Starsky-" Hutch was becoming annoyed at his partner's persistence. The blond man tried to cut through the cobwebs still clogging his mind and wrap his thoughts around the days when he was still in uniform-out with Corlew. Then all of a sudden the memories did come flooding back. "Oh, my God! I had completely forgotten! I was there-" he still struggled to recall the details. "I couldn't believe Rosetti would bring his kid along. He had to be only 13 or 14."

"Fifteen-" Starsky supplied. "He was selling on the campus at Riverview."

"That's right. But the kid didn't go by Rosetti. It was a different name. Santini-no-uh-San-no-Suarez! That was it. Orlando Suarez. He was still hanging on to his father when we carted Rosetti away. If he was only 15, then he would have been a juvenile. Those records would be sealed Starsk."

"I know. They are. What else do you remember?"

"He went back into the joint when he was 18 or 19. That was Ritterman and Marshall's bust, I think. Then he was killed in a knife fight in prison a year after that."

"Okay, you just corroborated Marshall's and Ritterman's stories. Now did Rosetti threaten you in any way?"

"Yeah, I think he breathed a few threats against all of us. Blaming us because his kid was killed in jail. But I didn't have anything to do with putting Suarez in jail the second time, Starsk. Why would Rosetti blame me for that? And why would he wait this long to get back at me?"

"I haven't figured that one out yet. And I also don't know how Rogers figures into this either. But I think it's enough to bring to Dobey for protection for you—and Jill."

Hutch's face drained of all color. "Jill? You think he'd go after Jill?"

"What better way to get back at you, Hutch." Starsky's voice and eyes became misty as he remembered the time when Purdholm had taken something very precious away from him-Terry- just because she was his girl. Hutch saw the look on his partner's face and lifted his good hand to squeeze his shoulder. He instinictively knew his partner was thinking about Terry. Starsky cleared his throat and composed himself.

"Just as a precaution, I'll have Dobey put a uniform outside your apartment."
"Call him—right now." Hutch grabbed for the phone, ignoring the pain in his left shoulder that movement caused.

"Hutch, he'll want more than my word for it. I'll need to show him the reports."

"Then I'll tell him! Dammit, Starsky, this is my wife we're talking about. And right now she's as vulnerable as I am. Resting at home. He could easily break in and--" his voice trailed off as unspeakable visions of what Rosetti could do to Jill as she lay sleeping filled his mind.

"All right, all right. I'll do it." Starsky grabbed the phone and punched in Dobey's home number. After three rings, the familiar gruff voice came through the wires.

"Yeah. Dobey."

"Cap'n, Starsky. We could have a problem--" that's as far as he got. Hutch snatched the phone away from his partner.

"Cap'n, Hutch." the blond man told his superior of their suspicions about Rosetti. "Send a black and white over to our apartment. 343 Bayview." Force of habit made him give the address.

"I know your address, Hutchinson!" Dobey bellowed. "But there's really nothing we can do. There haven't been any overt threats made."

"What do you mean there's nothing you can do?!" Hutch shouted into the phone. "We're talking about my wife here, Cap'n. There damn well better be something we can do."

"Don't you think I know that, Hutchinson. But you know as well as I do how the law reads. We can't do a thing unless there's been some kind of threat."

Whatever else Captain Dobey was going to say was lost. Hutch threw down the phone and swung his legs over the edge of the bed in an attempt to stand up.

"I'll have to call you back, Cap'n." Starsky said into the phone as he picked it up and slammed the receiver back into the cradle harder than he meant to. "Just where do you think you're going?" the dark haired man addressed his blond partner as Hutch started to shuffle toward the bathroom.

"My clothes. Where are my clothes?" Hutch ignored his partner's question-and tried to ignore the pain that shot up his leg. His legs buckled under his weight. He was still so weak. Starsky grabbed his arm-his left one because it was the closest -and another bolt of pain shot up and down that arm. This time Hutch cried out and clenched his teeth. He nearly collapsed in his partner's arms, but Hutch kept on going. "Where are my damn clothes? I have to get to Jill."

"You ain't goin' nowhere, buddy." he tried to get Hutch back over to the bed, but the blond man threw his arms out with an adrenalin surge to throw his partner's arms off. Again pain radiated up and down his left arm.

"Let me go-Starsky!" Hutch protested.

"No- Hutch!" Starsky shot back as he managed to get the bigger man back to the bed and sat him down on the edge. Then Dave noticed blood staining Hutch's hospital gown near his leg wound. Starsky lifted the gown up and saw that in their struggle Hutch had again torn the stitches out. "You keep tearing out your stitches, you big lummox, and you'll never get out of the hospital." Starsky held his still struggling partner and pushed the nurse call button. When the disembodied voice asked what he needed, the curly headed man answered, "Sergeant Hutchinson has torn out his stitches again." he thought he heard a soft sigh from the nurse. Yeah, I feel the same way, he thought. The door opened a moment later and the red headed nurse came in with the suture materials and a syringe of pain killer.

"What happened this time?"

"He got up and went for his clothes. He wanted to get out of here to get to his wife."

When Hutch heard that, he murmured, "Jill-" and continued to murmur her name. His blue eyes were glassy and a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead. The struggle with Starsky had completely sapped his strength. At least he was too worn out to try to escape the hospital again, the dark haired man thought. This time when the nurse examined the wound and wiped away the blood, she noticed redness had set in around it.

"I think it's infected this time. Okay, Sergeant Hutchinson, let's lay down." With Starsky's help she lowered the blond man to the bed and pulled out the remaining stitches. Hutch winced, but didn't cry out. Instead he curled up in a fetal position as if to ward away the pain. Starsky placed his hand on Hutch's good shoulder to calm him.

"It's okay, Hutch. You're gonna be ok. I'm here, buddy."

"Detective, you need to straighten your legs. Come on." the nurse pulled on his long legs so they reached to the end of the bed. She sutured up the leg wound again, plunged the syringe into Hutch's hip, then took out a thermometer from her pocket and stuck it under Hutch's tongue. After a few minutes she withdrew it and read the results. "101. Just as I thought. He'll need another round of antibiotics. I'll page the doctor. He might want to see this." She went to the intercom and called the doctor. He was there in a few minutes, coming over to the bed.

"What happened?" The nurse told him and the doctor lifted Hutch's gown to examine the wound. For the first time Starsky realized that Hutch was probably mortified to have himself exposed like this--the wound was in a place that necessitated it. The curly haired cop draped the gown in such a way that covered Hutch, earning him a puzzled look from the nurse.

"I've seen them before, Sergeant--" she said matter-of-factly.

"Give the man some dignity, huh?" Starsky grinned at her and shrugged his shoulders, At least he had done what he could for his partner.

"What is his temp?" the doctor asked the nurse.

"101. Do you want me to call Mrs. Hutchinson?"

The doctor hesitated, seeming to contemplate the question whether it was really necessary for Jill to be here. He really wanted her to rest. The doctor slowly shook his head. "If it goes any higher, call her. With the new round of antibiotics, it should come down quickly. If it doesn't come down, page me again."

"Yes, Doctor."

"I'll stay with him." Starsky said.

The nurse and doctor nodded in acknowledgment and they both left the room. Starsky went into the bathroom and wet a washcloth to bring back out to Hutch and put it on his forehead to cool him down. The blond man lifted his good arm and placed his hand over his partner's.

"Jill?"

"Wrong- it's me, Blintz."

"Starsk?"

"Yeah?"

"Jill?"

"She's safe, Hutch." For now anyway, he hoped. He was sure Dobey had done the least he could and ordered some black and whites to patrol around the Hutchinson's apartment complex, even if he couldn't order a stakeout to watch the place.

"Starsky?" Hutch was so exhausted from the exertion of getting out of bed and struggling with Starsky that the pain killer seemed to take immediate effect.

"Yeah, Blondie-?"

"I'm tired. I think I'll go to sleep now." he sounded so much like a little boy that Starsky had to smile.

"You do that, Hutch."

The blond man closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep. The nurse returned to the room and added the antibiotic to the I-V.

"He'll probably sleep through the night. Why don't you go home and get some rest yourself?" the nurse told the dark haired man.

"No, I'll stay until the fever breaks."

He fell into the chair again and waited. After a while his eyes closed of their own volition.

About two hours later the nurse came in and took the blond man's temperature again. It had returned to normal. She shook Starsky's shoulder and he was immediately awake. "Wha-?Hutch?"

"Sergeant Hutchinson's temperature is normal, Detective Starsky. Go home now."

The dark haired man shook his head. "I'll be at the Hutchinson's."

Starsky left the hospital and headed the Torino for the Hutchinson's apartment.

Meanwhile Jill sat on the sofa, mindlessly watching TV, not even seeing the cop show she had tuned in. Maybe I should just take my sleeping pill and go to bed, she thought. Jill rose from her seat and turned the TV off, then headed for the kitchen where she had left her sleeping pills when the phone rang. As it always did these days, her heart jumped into her throat as she answered. She was afraid it was the hospital, telling her about another complication in Hutch's recovery. She turned around and went back to the sofa to sit down and sweep the receiver up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jill-" her mother's familiar voice came through the wires. Of course. Her parents' weekly call. It was after 10 their time in Chicago. Her father liked to call late to get the lower rates.

"Hi, Mama-"

Maeve Sutherland knew immediately that something was amiss with her daughter. Jill hadn't called her 'Mama' in years-and it was a name she usually used when she was scared. "What's wrong? Ken? Do I need to come out there?"

"No, Mom, you don't need to come out here. Yes, it's Ken. He was shot during a domestic dispute a few days ago."

"A few days ago? And we're just hearing about it now?"

"I'm sorry I didn't call before, but I've been at the hospital most of the time." Jill suddenly felt very guilty. She should have told her parents about this sooner. They liked Ken, welcoming him into their family as their own from the very first time he had met them because they knew he was basically estranged from his own parents. Before Mrs. Sutherland could say anything else, another extension was picked up and her father's voice floated through the wires.

"Hi, Sprite-" Tom Sutherland used his favorite nickname for his oldest daughter. "What's this about Ken?"

"He was shot-in the thigh and the shoulder. The thigh wound was really serious for a while. It nicked the femoral artery. He lost a lot of blood. Then he was unconscious longer than they thought he should be, but he finally woke up—and then the thigh wound became infected. He's okay now. It's just been a rough few days."

"Oh, Jill-" Mrs. Sutherland's father had been a cop so she knew about the dangers. "How are you holding up, honey?"

"It's been scary, Mom, but I'm learning to handle it. I'm okay. I can only see him once a day, though. I fainted from exhaustion. I'd been working a lot of nights for the past month and not sleeping very well. Then this thing with Hutch happened..."

"Jill, you have to take care of yourself, for Ken's sake." her mother scolded. "Are you sure you don't want me to come out there? I can be on a plane tomorrow."

"No, Mom. The doctor gave me some sleeping pills and I've been sleeping during the day. Dave's been taking care of me. He promised Ken he would and you know what a promise means between them."

"Yes, I do-" Jill could hear the smile in her mother's voice. They chatted for several minutes, then suddenly there was a pounding on the front door of the apartment. "Mom, just a minute. There's someone at the front door."

Jill put down the phone and rose from the sofa to cross over to the door. "Who is it?" she asked cautiously.

"It's the calvary. Hutch sent me." Dave's familiar voice came through the door. Jill smiled and opened it to let her husband's partner in.

"Hi, Dave. Come on in. I'm on the phone with my parents."

"Oh, well, tell them hello for me." Starsky walked into the apartment and shut the door behind him. Jill returned to the sofa while Dave crossed over to the kitchen to see what was in the refrigerator in the form of a beverage. She picked up the phone again and swept the receiver up to her ear.

"Sorry, Mom. It's Dave."

"Oh? Put him on so we can say hello."

Jill held out the receiver in Starsky's direction as he took a beer out of the 'fridge. "They want to say hello."

He nodded and moved over to Jill to take the phone from her. He balanced the receiver between his ear and his shoulder as he twisted the top off the beer. "Hi, Mrs. Suther-uh, Maeve-" Starsky corrected himself, remembering that Jill's mother had insisted he call her by her first name. "Hello, Mr. Sutherland." Jill's father had made no such request.

"Hello, Dave. How are you?"

"As well as can be expected. Has Jill told you about Hutch?"

"Yes, just now." They chatted for a few minutes, then Dave said,

"I'll give you back to Jill."

Starsky handed the receiver back to Jill and dropped down on the sofa next to her. He took a swig of his beer as Jill continued her conversation with her parents.

"So how are things in Chicago? How are Brian and Julie?" Jill asked about her older brother and younger sister. Her parents took turns telling stories about her siblings and their families for several more minutes, then Mrs. Sutherland said:

"Well, we'll hang up now, honey. You need to get your rest. Tell Ken we're thinking about him-and we love him. I love you, Jill."

"Love you too, Mom-Daddy. 'Bye."

Jill pushed down the disconnect button and started to punch in another number, telling Starsky, "I need to call the hospital."

"No, you don't. I just came from there." he ran his hand through his dark hair.

Jill hung up the phone. "Then how is he?"

"His leg became infected again and he developed a slight fever. They gave him a round of antibiotics." He didn't tell her the reason why the leg became infected—and he hoped against hope she wouldn't ask. Starsky didn't want to worry her about the threat Rosetti could pose to her and Hutch. God knew she had enough to worry about with Hutch.

"A fever?" Jill became alarmed. "How high was it? Why wasn't I called?"

"It was 101—and the doctor didn't think it warranted a call. I think he was more concerned about you resting. The fever came down in a couple of hours. He's okay, Jill."

Jill nodded in acknowledgment as she yawned, so tired suddenly that she didn't think to ask about what had caused this latest infection, just like Starsky hoped. He continued, "Have you taken your sleeping pill?"

"Not yet." She crossed over to the kitchen and picked up the bottle from the counter. She shook a pill into her hand and then chased it down with a glass of water. "Good night, Dave."

"'Night, Jill."

Jill walked down the hallway and into the master bedroom where she changed into her nightgown, then went into the bathroom to wash her face. Returning to the bedroom, she slid under the covers and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

"I need to stop at the station to pick something up." Dave said as he and Jill were headed for the hospital the next morning. "Hutch gave me a lead yesterday."

"You two are going to talk business?"

"I'll keep it to a minimum, I promise. I just need to follow up."

"Okay." Jill replied, as she munched on a granola bar for breakfast, trying not to let the crumbs fall on the seat of the Torino. She knew the dark haired man did not like messes in his car. Starsky pulled into his usual space in front of the Metro and they both got out. They entered the station and took the stairs up to the squad room. Starsky crossed over to his desk and found the file he wanted, then said, "I'm gonna make a copy. I'll be right back." He turned around to head for the double doors of the squad room when Jill's trembling voice from behind him stopped Starsky in his tracks.

"D-D-Dave? L-look!"