CHAPTER 6

Starsky

As I read the file, I kept glancing at the blond head bent over the papers. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but I knew I wouldn't. I'd never liked soapy scenes, and we'd come close to them during the day. I'd surprised myself by quoting Terry. It wasn't as if I pretended she'd never existed, but I didn't make a habit of talking about her, not even to Hutch. She was locked in my heart forever. I still felt so guilty over her death, for she'd died as a direct result of loving me. I found myself losing interest in the papers as I pictured her in front of me, smiling at me sweetly. God, how I had loved her. I imagined her holding me and telling me how much she loved me, the scars made no difference to her, and that I was still her Dave. I knew that was true, just as I knew Hutch still loved me.

My problem was how to shake the doubts and insecurities that were now plaguing me and how to get on with life. My doubts seemed to be increasing as time went on. Hutch thought I was tough and stubborn, and I was. I'd survived many ordeals that should have killed me. Marcus, Bellamy's poison, getting shot in a restaurant. It was just harder to bounce back from this one. The fact was that I'd died, my heart had stopped beating.

The long days of pain and agony during my recovery had seen me crawl back to what should be a normal life. I guess I'd fought so hard to regain my strength, I'd not stopped to consider how I'd feel when I was back on the streets. I certainly hadn't been plagued with self-doubts during the difficult times, but it seemed that I'd won that battle only to come face-to-face with another one. I couldn't just get on with things--not without Hutch--but I didn't trust myself with him. I wasn't the same man I'd been, and I was struggling to find who I was.

Hutch had helped me through Terry's death, had also helped me through what was, in fact, my own death. Now I had to learn to live again. The thought of Terry moved me to tears, and I had to blink back the sudden moisture in my eyes as I realized Hutch was watching me. He didn't say a word, but just put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me back into the comfort of his touch. I let myself rest on him for a few moments before I pulled myself together.

"Right, blintz. We've got some reading to do."

The instructions were clear enough. My cover was Len Green and I was a drifter looking for work. It seemed the other victims were all drifters, six of them who'd had the misfortune of ending up at the Hackney Boarding House. The other two men didn't seem connected to the boarding house, but they'd been killed in nearly the same way--the brutality of the beatings and the stabbings, along with the peculiar symbols that had been carved into their chests. The main difference, other than not being linked to the hostel, was that these two had been sexually assaulted. All bodies had been found naked, with their heads shaved. The fact was that Hutch had been right, the Vegas boys wanted bait and I was it. There wasn't much else to go on. I stole another glance at my partner and realized there were still things I needed to say to him. I'd just have to save them for the end of the case. If it went well, then we'd be out celebrating my return, and if it didn't, then I'd have to say things to him before walking away from our partnership forever.

I was due to catch up with my ride at nine am on the outskirts of town. There wasn't much else to read and I realized that Hutch was delaying leaving.

"Hey, Hutch, you got a pretty lady to go home to. Why don't ya head off? I guess I'll see you in some seedy bar in Vegas in the next few days."

Hutch stood up. "You trying to get rid of me?"

"Never, blintz." I looked directly at him, so he could see the truth in my words. "But I've gotta get some sleep and you've gotta talk to Louise. I'll see ya when I see ya."

Hutch looked at me. I could see he was puzzled by something, but I was feeling pretty wrung out by then and hoped he wouldn't push. I'd done what I could by talking to him about Louise, and I prayed he wouldn't blow it with her. I wish I could do more, but I realized we were both at the end of our tethers. Maybe he picked up on my mood, for he didn't challenge me. He pulled me into a bear hug and I relaxed on him. I realized just how much I was going to miss him. This was the worst aspect of undercover work at the best of times, and this wasn't the best of times for either of us.

"See ya." Anyone who saw his rapid exit would have assumed that he was glad to get away from me, but he didn't fool me. He knew if he didn't just leave, he wouldn't let me go. Those who thought Hutch was cold and standoffish, would never realize just how warm-hearted he was to those he chose to love. I was fortunate to be among the few, and I'd never loved him more as I watched him run away from me, to his beat-up excuse for a car.

To my surprise I did manage to get a good night's sleep, probably because everything was out in the open now. Hutch knew about my assignment and, although I didn't actually have his blessing, he wasn't going to try to stop me. I was glad everything--well, most things--were out in the open now and I could concentrate on the job at hand. Being bait to some Marcus-type lunatic wasn't going to be much of a job, but I figured it was going to test me to my limits and at least Hutch was going to be close by.

...

The morning was clear and sunny. As I picked up my duffel bag and locked my apartment, I looked around the street, wondering how long it would be before I got back there.

The pick-up went smoothly, and before I knew it I was heading to Las Vegas. The driver worked in the uniform division, but he'd been chosen for this job because he had his truck driver's license. He was a pleasant enough sort, but I found myself missing Hutch's quiet companionship and understanding.

"I saw the body of the last victim and it weren't a pretty sight! Why are you doin' this? I always figured that working as a detective would mean you didn't have to pick up these sleazy jobs!"

God, he was young. Had I ever been that young?

"You're wrong, Mitch. Being a detective doesn't make the slightest difference. You still get crappy jobs." We chatted a bit more, but he seemed to realize at last that I didn't want to talk.

"Have a coffee, Star...er, Len. Got some in the thermos."

"Thanks." I was grateful for a warm drink and asked if he wanted to stop for a drink.

"Nah, we'll keep going and I'll stop later for lunch. It's been a few years since I've driven a truck, but I think we'll get to the city around three this afternoon."

"Great. The sooner we get there, the sooner I'll be bait for some psycho nuts." Mitch finally lapsed into silence, leaving me to ponder my gloomy thoughts.