Hutch sat at the small dining room table with a cold, sweating beer in his right hand and today's newspaper was spread out beneath his left. His hand trembled as it hovered over the stark print. He stared down at her familiar face and realized that now, the little girl in his nightmares had a name.

April Hylton, age seven. Died at Memorial hospital Monday afternoon. Hutch checked the date at the top of the obituaries. The girl must have died not long after she arrived at the hospital.

There were no specifics of her death, other than how her parents missed her very much and she hadn't deserved to die. Hutch snorted and took another drink. Of course she hadn't deserved to die. No child did.

Hutch let his fingers glide over the small, black and white picture of a happy little girl in pigtails. Maybe if he stared at this picture long enough, it would smother his memories of April's bloody face the morning he pulled her from the bus.

She'd have to have a closed casket, that's for sure.

Disgusted by his lack of compassion, Hutch tilted the bottle to his lips and swallowed the last remaining drops of alcohol. Unsatisfied, he slammed the bottle to the table and pushed back from the table roughly.

He jerked open the refrigerator and started to reach for another, then stopped. He of all people should know that drinking himself to oblivion would not help anything. He was better than that, plus he was supposed to be looking for April's killer. Hutch doubted anyone would take a drunken detective very seriously.

It was kind of like a sore tooth, Hutch thought as he let the refrigerator door shut. You could numb the pain for a while, but until you actually went to the dentist, you were only covering up the problem. The tooth had to come out. He had to get to the root of the problem.

No pun intended.

The only way Hutch would ever feel better about April's death was to find the killer and put him behind bars. Then, he would have done everything he was capable of. The healing would come later.

Hutch went back to the table and picked up the newspaper page. Gently, slowly, he tore out April's small obituary and let the rest fall back to the table. He brought the scrap of paper up to his face, studying that smiling face one last time, then pulled out his badge and tucked April away safely within the leather wallet. He would look up the parents later. He felt he owed them that.

Putting away his badge, Hutch took a deep breath and looked around. His apartment was starting to smell a little, like stale beer and stagnant air. He really should open a window or something. Even his favorite Aloe plant was beginning to turn yellow.

He'd water it later.

Hutch went to the door. His pain was numbed for now, and he'd pushed it down for the time being. He steered his thoughts to other things as he grabbed the car keys and headed downstairs.

He'd prove to Starsky that Ms. Bandy was innocent. She was a victim here, and Starsky was way off base with his assumptions. The woman was clearly devastated over her husband's death. So what if she owned a cigarette lighter but didn't smoke? There were plenty of other legitimate reasons, like maybe a friend had forgotten it or maybe it was for unexpected power outages. Hutch could not bring himself to believe that that kind, motherly woman had anything to do with the havoc of three days ago.

Hutch stepped outside into the heat and this time, didn't think twice about the temperature. It had been over one hundred degrees for so long, it was hard to imagine a time when it had been any different.

The LTD was parked in its usual spot along the curb, looking very much like a permanent fixture on the street. Hutch stepped off the sidewalk and rounded the hood, then grabbed the door handle.

Something banged in the shadows of the alley, and Hutch froze.

His hand fell away from the door as Hutch stalked around the car. "Hello?" he called, slowly reaching for his gun. After all, there was a difference between 'safe' and 'paranoid'.

There was a scraping noise, the sound of metal over concrete, and Hutch stopped at the alley's opening. "Who's there?" he called, his hand wrapping around the butt of his gun.

A dog emerged from the shadows, stopping to stare at Hutch as it held a crumpled hamburger wrapper in its mouth.

With a nervous sigh, Hutch released his gun and relaxed his shoulders. "Damn dog," he muttered, feeling incredibly stupid and relieved at the same time. The scruffy animal flicked its ears and trotted away, its long tail held high in mockery.

Hutch returned to his car quickly, his movements hurried and deliberate. He did not have time to hunt dogs. A murderer was on the loose. He yanked open the driver's door, sat inside, and started the engine as he pulled the heavy door shut. The engine started its deep rumble, and although the sound wasn't as steady and strong as the Torino's, it sounded like today would be a good day.

Hutch pulled the car out into the street and joined the flow of traffic- or what little of it there was. It was the middle of a work day, although this street never seemed to be congested anyway. That had been part of the appeal to Hutch when he had found this apartment. He was lucky to live such a short distance from the beach yet not have to deal with lost tourists. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, unmindful of the single red car some distance behind him.

He coasted through a green light and turned west. He fumbled with the dials on the air conditioning, turning the fans on high and gritting his teeth against the blast of hot, tepid air. Hutch waited a few seconds, then gave up. Hoping for cool air had only been wishful thinking.

He turned the fans off a little too forcefully, then lowered the driver's window and propped his elbow on the doorframe. The air was still hot, but at least it was moving, and it felt good against his damp skin. Now, if only the radio would work…

Hutch coasted through another green light, turning off of Venice Boulevard and onto Pacific Avenue. He could smell the salt in the air. The ocean was to his left, stretching out across the horizon in both directions. As he picked up speed, the beach grew more narrow until it finally disappeared, giving way to a rocky shoreline butted right up against the elevated highway. Gulls circled above and dived into the waves, carrying small, flopping fish in their beaks back to some unseen shelter. Surfers dotted the ocean and further in the distance, large fishing boats were hard at work. Hutch wondered if April had liked the water.

He ran a hand over his face, hard, scrubbing away the tension. He had to stop this. He was obsessing about a little girl's death when children died every day on this planet. What made April so special?

The answer hurt. He had held her in his arms, and in that brief contact, Hutch had felt her trust seep into him and pierce his heart.

Up ahead, the traffic light at a three-way intersection turned red. Hutch lifted his foot from the gas pedal and dropped it on the brakes.

Nothing happened.

The pedal sank to the floor with no resistance and the car kept rolling forward.

Oh shit. Hutch's heart beat hard as adrenaline flooded his veins. He tried the brakes again, this time stomping on the pedal as the LTD cruised towards the intersection.

Not again… flashbacks of years prior exploded in his mind's eye and Hutch's panic increased. There were cars stopped at the intersection, waiting their turn for the green light. The lane ahead of him was clear, and Hutch pressed a palm to the horn in an effort to keep the other motorists in their place.

He was halfway through the intersection when a second horn sounded, followed immediately by a hard impact to the passenger-side door. Hutch caught a flash of dark blue as the LTD caved inwards, glass shattering and tires squealing as it gave way to momentum and was pushed over the side of the road.

The car broke through the guard rail like it was a finish-line ribbon and slid down the steep, rocky incline towards the pounding waves. The side of Hutch's head was hot and numb where it had collided with the steel doorframe. Under the thundering sound of smashing rocks and twisting metal, he could hear more tires squealing as other vehicles slid to a stop in the intersection above.

The LTD bounced and lurched towards the ocean. Gravity pulled the car engine-first into the water and the car's grill broke the frothy waves with a splash. The sudden impact slammed Hutch's head into the top of the steering wheel as the car went almost completely vertical. Black spots swelled in his eyes, temporarily clouding his vision.

Then, like a dream, everything fell silent. Water rushed up and around the car, greedily pulling the vehicle into its depths. Hutch was belatedly aware that his feet were wet. Everything seemed to be swirling around him- maybe it was- and the vertigo was nearly overpowering. Suddenly a rush of water came in through the open driver's window and the cold water drenched Hutch from the waist down.

He finally started to struggle as water pressed against the cracked windshield. The car was sinking fast. Something warm covered the side of his head and the air reeked of salt and burnt rubber. The squealing, groaning engine finally died just as Hutch grasped the roof and started to pull himself free. As water flooded the car, it was pulled into the water with enough force that Hutch felt himself being pulled with it. Frantically, he climbed through the window and chest-high saltwater, just barely keeping his head above the waves as huge bubbles gurgled and sloshed around him. With one last surge of energy, he pushed off from the car just as the rear end flipped up, the trunk now where his head had been half a second ago.

The car glug-glugged a noisy decent as Hutch treaded water, shell-shocked. A second later, the car was completely gone.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Hutch looked up, squinting as figures appeared on the roadside. He looked back to where his car had been.

One last silvery, gelatinous bubble rose to the water's surface and popped.

Oh yeah, he was fine.

"Mister, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Hutch turned his attention back to the bystanders. "I'm fine," he called, but his voice was so weak he doubted anyone heard. A figure was sliding down the incline towards him and several large rocks plopped into the water a couple feet away.

"Stay there, I'm coming to help!"

Hutch's eyes refused to focus, but he started moving towards the embankment. The saltwater stung his eyes and tickled his throat and thick sea foam crackled around his jaw. His head felt like it was made of lead and his temples were being squeezed in a vice, but otherwise he was miraculously unharmed. The LTD had been struck from the passenger side, saving him from any shattered arms or legs.

Underwater, Hutch's shoes scraped over slick, algae-covered rocks and he reached out blindly. A strong hand clamped around his forearm suddenly he was being pulled from the choppy waves. His clothes weighed heavily on his body, further slowing his already sluggish movements. He stumbled and fell to his hands on the rocks despite his rescuer's best attempts.

"You okay? You need to sit down for a minute?"

Hutch shook his head, feeling that if he didn't make it up to the road now, he never would. His hands grabbed at the loose, jagged stones and slowly, with the help of a blurry, heroic bystander, they scrambled up the incline.

More hands grabbed him as he reached the pavement. Hutch was hauled forward a safe distance from the steep embankment and he collapsed to the pavement. The blacktop seared his skin through his saturated clothes and the bright sun forced his eyes shut. Voices swirled around him and Hutch barely understood that an ambulance had already been called. The pain in his head was the only thing he was aware of. His lungs burned and his muscles ached and he thought that maybe it would be nice to fry upon the road right where he lay.

Warm fingers were pressed to his throat and Hutch groaned to confirm that yes, he was still alive. Please do not attempt CPR.

Seconds- or minutes, as time was irrelevant now- ticked by and suddenly the sound of squealing tires and a police siren filled the air. Hutch recognized that vehicle- the tire skid and pitch were a signature of the Torino. Reluctant to let Starsky find him sprawled over the highway like road kill, Hutch rolled to his side and attempted to sit up.

The barely-familiar shape of his rescuer appeared in front of him and Hutch felt himself being guided upright and gently pushed backwards until his shoulders hit something solid. Hutch blinked rapidly and brought a hand to his eyes, rubbing away the salt from both the ocean in his own tears. His head felt swollen and when he could finally keep his eyes open, he heard a car door slam and a familiar voice shouting.

"Hutch! Hutch, what happened? I heard a call about an accident- where's your car?"

Hutch blinked slowly. "Starsky? Slow down." His vision and hearing seemed to be disconnected from each other, like a badly dubbed movie.

Starsky reached forward and touched Hutch's temple. "That's a lot of blood. Let's get you to the hospital, huh? Can you get up?"

Hutch jerked away from the touch, still trying to bring his surroundings into focus. Blood? He was bleeding? That would explain some things…

When Hutch still hadn't attempted to get up, Starsky enlisted the help of the dark-haired man that had pulled Hutch from the water. "Okay partner, the car's right over there, okay? Think you can make it that far?"

Hutch had just found the blob of red Ford when he was flying through the air. He stumbled, trying to get his legs underneath him, and felt his stomach twirling. The ground was moving and he was aware of shoulders holding him up by his armpits. Hot, watery saliva filled his mouth at the pain and vertigo. "I think I'm gonna-"

Hutch doubled over and heaved, puking up slime, salt water and beer. Through barely-open eyes, he watched the liquid splatter onto the road.

"…think he's going into shock…"

"…ambulance on the way…"

"…drive him, it's faster…"

Hutch let the words whorl around him like the red and yellow leaves of fall. Starsky was here somewhere, and that was all that mattered. He moved across the road and towards the large shape of the Torino, then was placed inside and arranged on the seat. Air conditioning hit him in the face, and Hutch shivered as the cold air froze the water and sweat slicking his skin. The door shut beside him, a shape moved across the front of the car, then Starsky appeared beside him.

"Alright partner, let's get you checked out. You still with me?"

The car started to move, and Hutch, aware of Starsky's voice but not his words, nodded and let his head rest against the back of the seat.

o0O0o