Hutch sat in the car a long while watching Tandy. She lounged comfortably
outside the saloon displaying her wares. Long, long legs peeked through a
slit in her skirt reaching nearly to her waist; the shirt was clinging, low
cut. He saw her make contact - a short, bald man slipped a familiar arm
around her waist. She whispered something in his ear and smiled a feline
little smile. The short man blushed, shook his head and murmured in her
ear. She jerked back sharply.
"Get out'ta here, ya cheap pervert!" She disentangled her waist. "Go on. Scram." The little man scurried away, blushing furiously. Tandy aimed a final curse at the man's rapidly retreating figure, then sighed and leaned back against the building, painting on a smile for the next customer.
Hutch watched her, but it wasn't Tandy he was seeing so much as a slender blonde with a Texas accent thick enough to cut. He shook himself, attempting to dispel the aura of deja vu clinging to the scene. She was so like Sweet Alice - that same delicate beauty and inner vulnerability. He felt a pang of regret. In only things could have been different between him and Alice. If only... +
Hutch gave up the "what if" game as futile. Things were as they were. He left the car and approached the woman casually, hoping she wouldn't notice him too soon and bolt. Not that she could outrun him in those heels! He was still twenty yards from her when it happened.
Tandy stumbled slightly, her ankle turning on the high heels. She cursed, falling sideways and clutching at the side of the building for balance. That was the only thing which saved her life.
A bullet embedding itself In the wall where her head had rested no a fraction of a second sooner. Tandy stared mesmerized at the wall for a long moment - long enough for Hutch to close the distance between them and fling her into the relative security of the doorway.
"He--- he tried to kill me!" Tandy clung to him, eyes wide and frightened. "He tried to kill me!"
Hutch drew his .357, using the other hand to gently disengage her death grip. "Tandy." Sharper. "Tandy." She stared at him. "Use that phone... no, the one right there on the bar... that's right. Call the police and tell them what happened. Tell them officer needs help."
He returned to the doorway, quickly searching the street for signs of anyone hurt or pinned down by the sniper. No one. At the sound of the first shot, the street had miraculously cleared of traffic. The people in this neighborhood were obviously not unacquainted with trouble and violence in all its various forms.
In the background he heard Tandy making the connection and explaining the situation to the person on the other end. Good - she had told them enough to make the others cautious when they came in. Hutch took a second to pray that Starsky would be as cautious when he learned just who this "officer" who "needs help" was +
Again he scanned the area, experienced eyes plotting the trajectory of the bullet, tracing it back to that busted-out window across the street. He peered more closely into the dim recess of the building. No movement, no signs of life. Time to move.
With a final glance at the broken window. Hutch darted from his refuge, rolling into the shadow of a parked car. As no shots were immediately forthcoming, he risked another quick glance around the fender, contemplating the dangerous trip across the street. He was brought up short by the sound of sirens. Thank God, back up.
A battered blue Dodge pulled up in the middle of the street, providing another island of protection between himself and the window. Several patrol cars arrived as well, ringing the area with a barricade of black and white. Starsky dived from the passenger side of the Dodge, Beretta drawn, and hunkered down next to Hutch. "What happened?"
"Sniper." He gestured toward the broken window. "Took a shot at Tandy from there."
"Hit her?"
"No, but he didn't miss by much." He signaled Conner, just coming up to the car. "We're going in, Neil. Cover us."
"Right." Conner drew his revolver and leaned across the hood. Two others did likewise. "Go!"
Starsky and Hutchinson broke cover on either side of the car, dashing across the street to flatten themselves on opposite sides of the entrance. Nothing. The house was still ~and quiet- no movement, no evidence of habitation.
Senses strained to the limit, the two began the familiar countdown. "One. . two... Three!"
A two-man assault team, Hutch gave a powerful kick, shattering the lock and throwing the door wide. He brought the Magnum down, covering the right half of the room; Starsky went in low under his line of fire and controlling access from the left. Nothing happened. Sharp eyes scanned the room, evaluating the situation.
Cautiously Hutch gave a signal for the uniforms to come up. "Feels deserted," Starsky whispered.
Hutch nodded once but moved warily nonetheless. The house did feel deserted, empty; his combat honed senses hadn't played him false, yet, but a cop who took chances very often became a dead cop.
A banging from the rear of the house told of the second police team making their own entrance. Six alert and armed police officers searched the old house from tip to bottom. No sign that it had been recently occupied, no shell casings, no suspect.
"Building's clear," Starsky reported to Connor, just coming up behind him.
Connor holstered his gun. "What happened, Ken?"
"That's exactly what I'm going to find out," Hutch stated flatly. He stowed his own weapon and strode from the building, leaving Neil and Starsky gaping behind him.
He found Tandy hovering anxiously by the door of the dingy bar. "Is it...?" she began timidly.
"Come on." Hutch grabbed one slender wrist and tugged her into the little office next to the bar, shutting the office door firmly in the face of the protesting owner.... "I want the truth, Tandy, and I want it now. Who was it that was shooting at you?"
Tandy yanked at her captive wrist. "How should I know?"
"That's enough." Eyes blazing. Hutch gave the girl a final shake before releasing her. "You may like to play games, but I don't. Someone almost blew your head off just now. Or did that escape your notice? And next time he won't miss." Hutch let the words sift down into the hushed room. "Tandy?" he asked more gently. "Tell me."
The woman swallowed once and dropped her eyes from that piercing scrutiny. She stood rubbing her wrist and thinking carefully. She was quiet for so long Hutch thought she was refusing to answer, and when she spoke it was emotionlessly, without inflection. "His name is Jimmy Cage."
Hutch's brow furrowed at the distant familiarity. "The guy who built the resort?"
Tandy shook her head. "No, his nephew, Jimmy. He owns the Silver Lift Motel out on Route 9."
"And you think he shot at you?"
She shrugged. "Who else?"
Hutch regarded her through narrowed eyes. "Any particular reason he wanted to kill you, or is it just open season on Tandy's?"
Tandy looked up, surprised by the unexpected joke, but there was no humor on the blond's face. "He killed Elizabeth."
"Oh?"
"He did," Tandy flared. "He was with her the night she was m-murdered! "
Open skepticism gave way to tentative acceptance. "How do you know that? You were working the streets all night."
"Well, I still know." Tandy pouted prettily, then obviously deciding it wasn't getting her anywhere, dropped wearily into a chair and crossed her legs. "Okay, Blondie, listen up. Elizabeth was seeing this guy regularly. Every Tuesday and Friday I'd see this weasel slink in the back door, looking real guilty, you know? He'd stay with Elizabeth 'till about five and slink out again the way he came."
Hutch studiously kept his eyes on Tandy's face. "And he was there the night of the murder?"
"It was Tuesday, wasn't it?" the woman demanded impatiently. "Besides, I saw him slip in around ten. He didn't know I was watching." Hutch stared at her. "Well?"
"Well what?"
Tandy's pretty face tightened. "Well, aren't you going to go arrest him? He shot at me!"
Hutch began to pace the room, his head sunk on his breast. After a minute he turned to fix her with a stern look. "Tandy, why didn't you tell us this before?"
That took the wind out of her. "Well... I..." she trailed off when Hutch frowned.
"You said he didn't know you saw him go in to Elizabeth?" he went on thoughtfully. "Yet, he knew enough to shoot at you today." High heels met the floor with a thump as she rose; Hutch gave her no time to collect herself. His next question struck like a pile driver. "How did he know, Tandy? Was it because you called and told him?"
"What are you getting at?" Tandy demanded angrily. "What are you accusing me of?"
"Were you blackmailing him, Tandy?" There. That was blunt enough.
"Uh..." The woman stared at him, the momentary tinge of guilt covered over by innocent indignation.
She was good. Hutch thought. If he hadn't caught the emotion that flashed in her eyes for the barest of heartbeats, he might even have fallen for it.
Tandy saw his expression and knew she had betrayed herself. She switched to open defiance. "Well, so what if I was, huh? You can*t prove a thing." Her face twisted. "He killed Elizabeth. I know that. So why shouldn't I get a little something out of it too, huh?" She patted her hair coyly. "I did tell you I wanted him to pay, didn't I?" She came nearer, running one hand across Hutch's muscled chest. "It's not too late, you know," she whispered, reaching up to caress his throat with her lips, "You don't have to turn me in. And I'd be... grateful."
Her perfume, a musky scent, was cloying, suffocating. All his cherished comparisons of this woman - this delicate, fragile woman - to Sweet Alice shattered, brittle shards slicing deep. Repulsed, he shoved her away. "Not today, Tandy. Come on, let's go talk to Chief Connor."
"You jerk," she spat, too startled to think of a stronger epithet. Hutch reached for her wrist again, but the girl snatched it away. "I can walk by myself, officer." Head high, she led the way back out to the bar.
Hutch followed, unaccountably depressed. He had known in his heart of hearts that the girl was a hard one. She'd made her living for years catering to the depravities of innumerable men; seemingly content with the corner she'd made for herself in the cesspool of the street. The role of "fallen woman" suited her somehow, and she played it with all the skill of a master of the art.
Tonelessly, Hutch made his report to Chief Connor, finishing with, "Put out an APB on Jimmy Cage, owner of the Silver Lift. Starsky and I'll head out to the motel itself. He might be laying low out there."
"Right." Connor put a hand on Tandy's shoulder. "Come on, little lady. As of now you are a material witness."
"Hmmph." Tandy turned large green eyes back up to Hutch. "Hey, Blondie," she called softly. "I meant what I said in there. You're still welcome to... visit me sometime... if you want."
Hutch dredged up a weak smile. "I'll keep that in mind." He saw Starsky staring from him to Tandy and back with a worried frown. "What are you waiting for? Let's go pick up Cage."
"Ken," Neil stopped him with a touch. "Cage is a big mouth, but he does know guns. Shot game all his life, stint in the Army. I'm sending backup." At Hutch's nod, Connor waved over two of his men. "Penn, Samuels, go with Starsky and Hutchinson to pick up Jimmy Cage out at the Silver Lift Motel. He's wanted in connection with the Elizabeth Carson murder. Suspect is to be considered armed and dangerous. "
"Right, Chief." Penn cracked his ever-present gum and grinned genially at the two detectives. "Looks like you guys brought us a little piece of Los Angeles when you moved this way. "
"Yeah," Hutch agreed glumly. "Too bad it had to be the worst part."
**
A yellow Honda was just pulling out of the lot of the Silver Lift Motel when the four policemen, sirens screaming, arrived. "That's Cage," Starsky shouted into the mike. Hutch nodded, already pulling the car around to give chase. "Penn, Samuels, he's making a run for it."
"Gotcha, Starsky." Penn's voice came thorough, only slightly distorted by the police radio. "We're right behind you. "
"Good man." Starsky rehung the mike, "Come on, come on, can't you get this thing to go any faster?"
Hutch ignored him and concentrated on keeping the big car under control. The road twisted and turned sharply in this area, dropping off on the right into a dizzying chasm many hundreds of feet deep. Starsky peered out the window once, shuddered, then refused to look in that direction again.
The Honda was in good shape and Cage was an excellent driver, shifting gears with all the acumen of a professional. Hutch found himself at a bit of a disadvantage, being unused to mountain roads, but he kept the big car at top speed, tires squealing around one bend after the other.
Starsky caught his breath as one particularly tight curve brought the entire valley below into magnificent panorama. "Watch it!" he gasped, feeling the blood drain out of his cheeks. "You trying to kill us?"
Hutch spared him a smile if not a glance. "You're talking about my driving? The same guy who double-clutched me into a truck three years ago?"
"I got news for ya, buddy, I'd go through that truck all over again if it meant getting off this mountain in one piece! "
The chase lasted several miles, the road dipping steeply towards the valley. They were on level ground before Starsky thought to breathe again. "Thank God. Whatcha waitin' on?"
"Not a thing." Hutch floored the pedal, bringing the Ford up even with the Honda.
Starsky waited until the cars had matched their velocity before releasing his seatbelt to lean head-and-shoulders out the passenger window. "Pull over!" he shouted, brandishing both badge and weapon threateningly.
Cage glanced over, startled, and that was his mistake. Another curve came up unexpectedly, causing Hutch to slow in order to negotiate it at all. Cage, distracted, failed to brake in time. Tires screaming, he skidded off the road into a ditch. Miraculously unhurt, he was out of the car in a flash and into the concealing cover of some nearby rocks almost before Hutch had time to skid the police care to a halt.
Starsky swore, leaping from the Ford. "He's got that rifle with him."
Hutch drew his own gun, pausing to signal Penn and Samuels, now parked behind the Honda. They nodded and quietly moved off to the right of the gunman. Hutch circled left while Starsky took up a position behind a conveniently placed tree directly in front of Cage's refuge.
"Cage! I know you're in there. Come out with your hands up." Starsky hadn't really expected a reply, but he got one in the form of several grains of high-caliber defiance expanding itself into the tree.
"He's good," Starsky muttered with mild dismay. He ducked around quickly, loosing eight shots at the boulder protecting Cage. "Whatever . happened to ... quiet ... peaceful... boring... little... Langston?" he grunted, punctuating each word with 9mm parabellum. He drew back into the safety of the tree's shadow, dropping the clip and jamming the new one home. Only a fool used up his last bullet before reloading.
Cage took the opportunity to fire another round of leaded death in his direction. Come on. Hutch, Starsky prayed, I'm pinned down here. He peeked around the tree again looking for any sign of movement. Nothing. Cage must have- Wait! A flash of color behind that bush... Hutch.
Hutchinson had worked himself around to the left of Cage's position, but had insufficient cover to gain himself a good vantage. The big Magnum hung heavy in his hand - useless.
Starsky stared at his partner, cursing fluently. Hutch was practically exposed up there on the rise; fool always picked the most dangerous spots, trusting Starsky to take advantage of the opportunities he created.
Starsky stared harder, willing the other man to meet his eyes. Moments later Hutch lifted his head and sent the answer to Starsky's silent question. Starsky's eyes widened and he shook his head slightly, but the blond's face tightened, his eyes narrow.
Starsky looked around wildly, searching for Penn and Samuels on the side of the rockfall. Nothing. They must be having trouble getting around those rocks. And there didn't seem to be any other alternatives to what Hutch was planning, either.
Resigned, he met Hutch's eyes again and nodded shortly. Okay, partner. Let's do it.
Hutch returned the nod and held up five fingers. On the count of five, then.
One.. Starsky cocked his gun.
Two... Hutch came out of his crouch up onto the balls of his feet.
Three ... Starsky tensed, ready, feeling the adrenal surge quicken his pulse.
Four . Hutch took a deep breath.
Five!
Hutch leaped up, exposing himself to Cage's line of fire. The gun in his hand bucked savagely, loosing five shots in half as many seconds. No use, of course - Cage was protected too well from Hutch's attack.
Fortunately, however, Cage really was as crazy as Connor had warned. From where he stood, Starsky could see the malicious snarl draw Cage's lips from yellowed teeth, saw him rise up slightly, aiming the rifle directly at Hutch's heart.
Starsky's bullet took the man in the face, knocking him backwards into the rocks with a clatter to lie still. Cautiously the two detectives approached from either angle, wary of a trick. They reached the point where Cage had fallen just as Penn and Samuels broke through the ground cover the east.
"Good shot," Samuels, a middle-aged patrolman, applauded. "Took him out nice and clean."
Starsky spared him a disgusted glare that changed to a grimace once he caught sight of what was left of Cage's face. The heavy slug had caught him pretty near dead center, blowing away a large portion of the man's forehead. Sickened, he looked away.
"Samuels, call for a coroner's wagon," Hutch ordered curtly. He crossed to where Penn was being quietly sick in the bushes. "Vince?"
"S'okay, man." The young cop struggled to his feet. "I gotta go sit down." He followed his partner back to the patrol car and disappeared into the back seat.
This left Hutchinson and Starsky alone with the body. "You all right?" Hutch stepped protectively between Starsky and the corpse, occluding the view, and gripped Starsky's shoulders. "Starsk?"
Starsky, his lips numb, forced a half smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. It had to be done."
The blond studied him, not releasing the lean shoulder, sensing a need for the contact. "Good job, buddy." The other trembled under his touch, causing Hutch to frown. "You sure you're ail right?"
Starsky nodded. "I guess it goes both ways."
"What does?"
"B-being afraid for..."
"Yeah." Hutch lifted his own hand; it trembled as well. "Not as easy as it used to be."
"No." A pause. "Hutch?"
"Yeah, buddy?"
"Can we go home now?"
***
"Get out'ta here, ya cheap pervert!" She disentangled her waist. "Go on. Scram." The little man scurried away, blushing furiously. Tandy aimed a final curse at the man's rapidly retreating figure, then sighed and leaned back against the building, painting on a smile for the next customer.
Hutch watched her, but it wasn't Tandy he was seeing so much as a slender blonde with a Texas accent thick enough to cut. He shook himself, attempting to dispel the aura of deja vu clinging to the scene. She was so like Sweet Alice - that same delicate beauty and inner vulnerability. He felt a pang of regret. In only things could have been different between him and Alice. If only... +
Hutch gave up the "what if" game as futile. Things were as they were. He left the car and approached the woman casually, hoping she wouldn't notice him too soon and bolt. Not that she could outrun him in those heels! He was still twenty yards from her when it happened.
Tandy stumbled slightly, her ankle turning on the high heels. She cursed, falling sideways and clutching at the side of the building for balance. That was the only thing which saved her life.
A bullet embedding itself In the wall where her head had rested no a fraction of a second sooner. Tandy stared mesmerized at the wall for a long moment - long enough for Hutch to close the distance between them and fling her into the relative security of the doorway.
"He--- he tried to kill me!" Tandy clung to him, eyes wide and frightened. "He tried to kill me!"
Hutch drew his .357, using the other hand to gently disengage her death grip. "Tandy." Sharper. "Tandy." She stared at him. "Use that phone... no, the one right there on the bar... that's right. Call the police and tell them what happened. Tell them officer needs help."
He returned to the doorway, quickly searching the street for signs of anyone hurt or pinned down by the sniper. No one. At the sound of the first shot, the street had miraculously cleared of traffic. The people in this neighborhood were obviously not unacquainted with trouble and violence in all its various forms.
In the background he heard Tandy making the connection and explaining the situation to the person on the other end. Good - she had told them enough to make the others cautious when they came in. Hutch took a second to pray that Starsky would be as cautious when he learned just who this "officer" who "needs help" was +
Again he scanned the area, experienced eyes plotting the trajectory of the bullet, tracing it back to that busted-out window across the street. He peered more closely into the dim recess of the building. No movement, no signs of life. Time to move.
With a final glance at the broken window. Hutch darted from his refuge, rolling into the shadow of a parked car. As no shots were immediately forthcoming, he risked another quick glance around the fender, contemplating the dangerous trip across the street. He was brought up short by the sound of sirens. Thank God, back up.
A battered blue Dodge pulled up in the middle of the street, providing another island of protection between himself and the window. Several patrol cars arrived as well, ringing the area with a barricade of black and white. Starsky dived from the passenger side of the Dodge, Beretta drawn, and hunkered down next to Hutch. "What happened?"
"Sniper." He gestured toward the broken window. "Took a shot at Tandy from there."
"Hit her?"
"No, but he didn't miss by much." He signaled Conner, just coming up to the car. "We're going in, Neil. Cover us."
"Right." Conner drew his revolver and leaned across the hood. Two others did likewise. "Go!"
Starsky and Hutchinson broke cover on either side of the car, dashing across the street to flatten themselves on opposite sides of the entrance. Nothing. The house was still ~and quiet- no movement, no evidence of habitation.
Senses strained to the limit, the two began the familiar countdown. "One. . two... Three!"
A two-man assault team, Hutch gave a powerful kick, shattering the lock and throwing the door wide. He brought the Magnum down, covering the right half of the room; Starsky went in low under his line of fire and controlling access from the left. Nothing happened. Sharp eyes scanned the room, evaluating the situation.
Cautiously Hutch gave a signal for the uniforms to come up. "Feels deserted," Starsky whispered.
Hutch nodded once but moved warily nonetheless. The house did feel deserted, empty; his combat honed senses hadn't played him false, yet, but a cop who took chances very often became a dead cop.
A banging from the rear of the house told of the second police team making their own entrance. Six alert and armed police officers searched the old house from tip to bottom. No sign that it had been recently occupied, no shell casings, no suspect.
"Building's clear," Starsky reported to Connor, just coming up behind him.
Connor holstered his gun. "What happened, Ken?"
"That's exactly what I'm going to find out," Hutch stated flatly. He stowed his own weapon and strode from the building, leaving Neil and Starsky gaping behind him.
He found Tandy hovering anxiously by the door of the dingy bar. "Is it...?" she began timidly.
"Come on." Hutch grabbed one slender wrist and tugged her into the little office next to the bar, shutting the office door firmly in the face of the protesting owner.... "I want the truth, Tandy, and I want it now. Who was it that was shooting at you?"
Tandy yanked at her captive wrist. "How should I know?"
"That's enough." Eyes blazing. Hutch gave the girl a final shake before releasing her. "You may like to play games, but I don't. Someone almost blew your head off just now. Or did that escape your notice? And next time he won't miss." Hutch let the words sift down into the hushed room. "Tandy?" he asked more gently. "Tell me."
The woman swallowed once and dropped her eyes from that piercing scrutiny. She stood rubbing her wrist and thinking carefully. She was quiet for so long Hutch thought she was refusing to answer, and when she spoke it was emotionlessly, without inflection. "His name is Jimmy Cage."
Hutch's brow furrowed at the distant familiarity. "The guy who built the resort?"
Tandy shook her head. "No, his nephew, Jimmy. He owns the Silver Lift Motel out on Route 9."
"And you think he shot at you?"
She shrugged. "Who else?"
Hutch regarded her through narrowed eyes. "Any particular reason he wanted to kill you, or is it just open season on Tandy's?"
Tandy looked up, surprised by the unexpected joke, but there was no humor on the blond's face. "He killed Elizabeth."
"Oh?"
"He did," Tandy flared. "He was with her the night she was m-murdered! "
Open skepticism gave way to tentative acceptance. "How do you know that? You were working the streets all night."
"Well, I still know." Tandy pouted prettily, then obviously deciding it wasn't getting her anywhere, dropped wearily into a chair and crossed her legs. "Okay, Blondie, listen up. Elizabeth was seeing this guy regularly. Every Tuesday and Friday I'd see this weasel slink in the back door, looking real guilty, you know? He'd stay with Elizabeth 'till about five and slink out again the way he came."
Hutch studiously kept his eyes on Tandy's face. "And he was there the night of the murder?"
"It was Tuesday, wasn't it?" the woman demanded impatiently. "Besides, I saw him slip in around ten. He didn't know I was watching." Hutch stared at her. "Well?"
"Well what?"
Tandy's pretty face tightened. "Well, aren't you going to go arrest him? He shot at me!"
Hutch began to pace the room, his head sunk on his breast. After a minute he turned to fix her with a stern look. "Tandy, why didn't you tell us this before?"
That took the wind out of her. "Well... I..." she trailed off when Hutch frowned.
"You said he didn't know you saw him go in to Elizabeth?" he went on thoughtfully. "Yet, he knew enough to shoot at you today." High heels met the floor with a thump as she rose; Hutch gave her no time to collect herself. His next question struck like a pile driver. "How did he know, Tandy? Was it because you called and told him?"
"What are you getting at?" Tandy demanded angrily. "What are you accusing me of?"
"Were you blackmailing him, Tandy?" There. That was blunt enough.
"Uh..." The woman stared at him, the momentary tinge of guilt covered over by innocent indignation.
She was good. Hutch thought. If he hadn't caught the emotion that flashed in her eyes for the barest of heartbeats, he might even have fallen for it.
Tandy saw his expression and knew she had betrayed herself. She switched to open defiance. "Well, so what if I was, huh? You can*t prove a thing." Her face twisted. "He killed Elizabeth. I know that. So why shouldn't I get a little something out of it too, huh?" She patted her hair coyly. "I did tell you I wanted him to pay, didn't I?" She came nearer, running one hand across Hutch's muscled chest. "It's not too late, you know," she whispered, reaching up to caress his throat with her lips, "You don't have to turn me in. And I'd be... grateful."
Her perfume, a musky scent, was cloying, suffocating. All his cherished comparisons of this woman - this delicate, fragile woman - to Sweet Alice shattered, brittle shards slicing deep. Repulsed, he shoved her away. "Not today, Tandy. Come on, let's go talk to Chief Connor."
"You jerk," she spat, too startled to think of a stronger epithet. Hutch reached for her wrist again, but the girl snatched it away. "I can walk by myself, officer." Head high, she led the way back out to the bar.
Hutch followed, unaccountably depressed. He had known in his heart of hearts that the girl was a hard one. She'd made her living for years catering to the depravities of innumerable men; seemingly content with the corner she'd made for herself in the cesspool of the street. The role of "fallen woman" suited her somehow, and she played it with all the skill of a master of the art.
Tonelessly, Hutch made his report to Chief Connor, finishing with, "Put out an APB on Jimmy Cage, owner of the Silver Lift. Starsky and I'll head out to the motel itself. He might be laying low out there."
"Right." Connor put a hand on Tandy's shoulder. "Come on, little lady. As of now you are a material witness."
"Hmmph." Tandy turned large green eyes back up to Hutch. "Hey, Blondie," she called softly. "I meant what I said in there. You're still welcome to... visit me sometime... if you want."
Hutch dredged up a weak smile. "I'll keep that in mind." He saw Starsky staring from him to Tandy and back with a worried frown. "What are you waiting for? Let's go pick up Cage."
"Ken," Neil stopped him with a touch. "Cage is a big mouth, but he does know guns. Shot game all his life, stint in the Army. I'm sending backup." At Hutch's nod, Connor waved over two of his men. "Penn, Samuels, go with Starsky and Hutchinson to pick up Jimmy Cage out at the Silver Lift Motel. He's wanted in connection with the Elizabeth Carson murder. Suspect is to be considered armed and dangerous. "
"Right, Chief." Penn cracked his ever-present gum and grinned genially at the two detectives. "Looks like you guys brought us a little piece of Los Angeles when you moved this way. "
"Yeah," Hutch agreed glumly. "Too bad it had to be the worst part."
**
A yellow Honda was just pulling out of the lot of the Silver Lift Motel when the four policemen, sirens screaming, arrived. "That's Cage," Starsky shouted into the mike. Hutch nodded, already pulling the car around to give chase. "Penn, Samuels, he's making a run for it."
"Gotcha, Starsky." Penn's voice came thorough, only slightly distorted by the police radio. "We're right behind you. "
"Good man." Starsky rehung the mike, "Come on, come on, can't you get this thing to go any faster?"
Hutch ignored him and concentrated on keeping the big car under control. The road twisted and turned sharply in this area, dropping off on the right into a dizzying chasm many hundreds of feet deep. Starsky peered out the window once, shuddered, then refused to look in that direction again.
The Honda was in good shape and Cage was an excellent driver, shifting gears with all the acumen of a professional. Hutch found himself at a bit of a disadvantage, being unused to mountain roads, but he kept the big car at top speed, tires squealing around one bend after the other.
Starsky caught his breath as one particularly tight curve brought the entire valley below into magnificent panorama. "Watch it!" he gasped, feeling the blood drain out of his cheeks. "You trying to kill us?"
Hutch spared him a smile if not a glance. "You're talking about my driving? The same guy who double-clutched me into a truck three years ago?"
"I got news for ya, buddy, I'd go through that truck all over again if it meant getting off this mountain in one piece! "
The chase lasted several miles, the road dipping steeply towards the valley. They were on level ground before Starsky thought to breathe again. "Thank God. Whatcha waitin' on?"
"Not a thing." Hutch floored the pedal, bringing the Ford up even with the Honda.
Starsky waited until the cars had matched their velocity before releasing his seatbelt to lean head-and-shoulders out the passenger window. "Pull over!" he shouted, brandishing both badge and weapon threateningly.
Cage glanced over, startled, and that was his mistake. Another curve came up unexpectedly, causing Hutch to slow in order to negotiate it at all. Cage, distracted, failed to brake in time. Tires screaming, he skidded off the road into a ditch. Miraculously unhurt, he was out of the car in a flash and into the concealing cover of some nearby rocks almost before Hutch had time to skid the police care to a halt.
Starsky swore, leaping from the Ford. "He's got that rifle with him."
Hutch drew his own gun, pausing to signal Penn and Samuels, now parked behind the Honda. They nodded and quietly moved off to the right of the gunman. Hutch circled left while Starsky took up a position behind a conveniently placed tree directly in front of Cage's refuge.
"Cage! I know you're in there. Come out with your hands up." Starsky hadn't really expected a reply, but he got one in the form of several grains of high-caliber defiance expanding itself into the tree.
"He's good," Starsky muttered with mild dismay. He ducked around quickly, loosing eight shots at the boulder protecting Cage. "Whatever . happened to ... quiet ... peaceful... boring... little... Langston?" he grunted, punctuating each word with 9mm parabellum. He drew back into the safety of the tree's shadow, dropping the clip and jamming the new one home. Only a fool used up his last bullet before reloading.
Cage took the opportunity to fire another round of leaded death in his direction. Come on. Hutch, Starsky prayed, I'm pinned down here. He peeked around the tree again looking for any sign of movement. Nothing. Cage must have- Wait! A flash of color behind that bush... Hutch.
Hutchinson had worked himself around to the left of Cage's position, but had insufficient cover to gain himself a good vantage. The big Magnum hung heavy in his hand - useless.
Starsky stared at his partner, cursing fluently. Hutch was practically exposed up there on the rise; fool always picked the most dangerous spots, trusting Starsky to take advantage of the opportunities he created.
Starsky stared harder, willing the other man to meet his eyes. Moments later Hutch lifted his head and sent the answer to Starsky's silent question. Starsky's eyes widened and he shook his head slightly, but the blond's face tightened, his eyes narrow.
Starsky looked around wildly, searching for Penn and Samuels on the side of the rockfall. Nothing. They must be having trouble getting around those rocks. And there didn't seem to be any other alternatives to what Hutch was planning, either.
Resigned, he met Hutch's eyes again and nodded shortly. Okay, partner. Let's do it.
Hutch returned the nod and held up five fingers. On the count of five, then.
One.. Starsky cocked his gun.
Two... Hutch came out of his crouch up onto the balls of his feet.
Three ... Starsky tensed, ready, feeling the adrenal surge quicken his pulse.
Four . Hutch took a deep breath.
Five!
Hutch leaped up, exposing himself to Cage's line of fire. The gun in his hand bucked savagely, loosing five shots in half as many seconds. No use, of course - Cage was protected too well from Hutch's attack.
Fortunately, however, Cage really was as crazy as Connor had warned. From where he stood, Starsky could see the malicious snarl draw Cage's lips from yellowed teeth, saw him rise up slightly, aiming the rifle directly at Hutch's heart.
Starsky's bullet took the man in the face, knocking him backwards into the rocks with a clatter to lie still. Cautiously the two detectives approached from either angle, wary of a trick. They reached the point where Cage had fallen just as Penn and Samuels broke through the ground cover the east.
"Good shot," Samuels, a middle-aged patrolman, applauded. "Took him out nice and clean."
Starsky spared him a disgusted glare that changed to a grimace once he caught sight of what was left of Cage's face. The heavy slug had caught him pretty near dead center, blowing away a large portion of the man's forehead. Sickened, he looked away.
"Samuels, call for a coroner's wagon," Hutch ordered curtly. He crossed to where Penn was being quietly sick in the bushes. "Vince?"
"S'okay, man." The young cop struggled to his feet. "I gotta go sit down." He followed his partner back to the patrol car and disappeared into the back seat.
This left Hutchinson and Starsky alone with the body. "You all right?" Hutch stepped protectively between Starsky and the corpse, occluding the view, and gripped Starsky's shoulders. "Starsk?"
Starsky, his lips numb, forced a half smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. It had to be done."
The blond studied him, not releasing the lean shoulder, sensing a need for the contact. "Good job, buddy." The other trembled under his touch, causing Hutch to frown. "You sure you're ail right?"
Starsky nodded. "I guess it goes both ways."
"What does?"
"B-being afraid for..."
"Yeah." Hutch lifted his own hand; it trembled as well. "Not as easy as it used to be."
"No." A pause. "Hutch?"
"Yeah, buddy?"
"Can we go home now?"
***