Disclaimer: This story was written purely for entertainment and is not for profit. It is not meant to trespass in any way on the holders of the rights to Starsky and Hutch.
Mahalo to all of the wonderful people in my life, who continue to encourage, support, and inspire me in my endeavor to write.
Warning: "Episodes" might be considered a dark tale and contains some graphic scenes and foul language that may be offensive to some readers. This story also revolves around a paranormal/metaphysical genre; if this is not your cup of tea, then please refrain from sipping. I would hate to spoil someone's fun.
--oo Episodes oo-
By: Shawne 'til dawn
CHAPTER 2 . . .
"G'night Hug," Starsky said, slapping the thin black man on the back, as they were about to exit his place.
"I think it's more like good morning," Hutch said smiling, as Huggy frowned.
"I guess you're tellin' me that this night of carousing, will also go on that long tab you two gents have been accruing? The black man said, gesturing to all the empty beer mugs on the table that they were just sitting at.
"We owe you Hug," Starsky said sleepily, his mouth opening in a wide yawn.
"You don' need t'tell me that . . . I know you owe me!" Huggy grumbled, as he began to clear away the table, suddenly smiling when he saw the wad of greens under one of the glasses. "Hey . . . anytime you want more beer, your friend Huggy Bear is here!"
The detectives walked out of Huggy's place laughing in the early morning hours, feeling the effects of one too many beers, but knowing that they didn't have to report into Metro the next day, lightened their spirits even more.
A blonde prostitute dressed in a short, tight-fitting, low cut burgundy dress whispered to her black co-worker, who leaned blatantly against the concrete siding of Huggy's place, displaying her wares wantonly. The women giggled, as the fair-haired woman seductively called out, her voice low and enticing, "Hey Curly-top . . ."
The two detectives stopped in their tracks as the prostitute sauntered over to them, her long, golden locks gleaming under the dim lights from the street. She gave the brunet the once over, licking her red lips in anticipation, "Mmm . . . you look mighty fine baby . . . wanna have some fun with me . . . end the day with a bang . . .huh cutie?" The hooker looked over to Hutch, "If your friend wants to tag along, Ginger over there, can fill in." she nodded her head to the black prostitute wearing fishnet stockings who stood up on her black stiletto heels and winked at the blond cop.
"C'mon baby," the blonde whispered, boldly reaching up to stroke back the curls from the brunet's face, "I'll give you the best head anyone's ever given you before," she whispered, as her hand inched down to the front of Starsky's jeans. She ran her index finger up along the seam of his zipper, when his hand abruptly stopped hers.
The warm pressure on his privates shook the pleasant buzz from the brunet's head. Starsky cleared his throat, feeling himself blushing slightly, "I wouldn't go there lady for two reasons . . . the first, is that I'm not interested, and the second, is that I'm a cop."
The wanton look on the hooker's face faded and was replaced by fear. She looked to Hutch who smiled and flashed his badge. The blond cop waved his fingers to the black woman who after seeing the glint from the badge, immediately began to walk away.
"Now if I were you miss," Starsky said, pointing in the direction of the quickly retreating hooker, I would do like your friend over there and call it a night . . . it's late, and I would hate to have to take you in for soliciting." The brunet winked, seeing the grateful smile of the prostitute who quickly walked away.
"Anyone ever tell you what a nice guy you are?" Hutch said softly, as his partner watched the platinum blonde walk under a dim streetlight, "Let's go huh buddy?"
"Yeah," Starsky murmured, seeing the shine from the blonde's hair as she passed under the light. Something about that image bothered the brunet and he watched her until the hooker faded into the shadows.
"You comin'?" Hutch called from afar, snapping Starsky out of his silent ponderings.
"Yeah . . ." Starsky said, shaking his head as he stumbled after his partner. 'Maybe I drank too much," he thought, silently wondering why the image of the prostitute leaving unnerved him so. He followed quietly behind his partner to the bright red car that was parked a ways down the street.
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He could feel hot, red anger rise from his gut when he watched the curly haired cop point in the direction of the retreating black whore. It was obvious the brunet felt he was too good for the blonde hooker and it pissed him off as he watched from the shadows. He hated guys like that . . . guys who knew they had that special something that ladies fell for. This cop, with all of his good looks and charm, knew how to use it, knew how to turn it off and on to fit his own sordid needs, knew how to lure innocent girls like Mari into his trap. Mari was his, and no one was going to take her away from him. He'd fucking kill that cop if he had to. The killer clenched his fists in silent rage . . . I'll show him . . . it was time to leave a calling card . . .
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"Hey . . . you okay?" Hutch asked softly, as they neared the Torino, "You didn't change your mind about that hooker back there did you?" the tall blond detective joked, noticing how quiet and introspective the brunet had become as walked along the quiet street, finally coming to a stop at the bright red car.
"I don't know Hutch . . . something about her keeps naggin' at me." Starsky said quietly, looking over the top of the Torino's roof at his blond counterpart, "You ever get the feelin' that you just missed something important . . . like when you skip over a missing puzzle piece that you've been staring at all night . . . I mean, it 's right there in your face, but you just can't see how it fits?" The brunet suddenly opened his mouth and yawned widely.
Hutch snorted softly, "I think you need to go to bed buddy . . . you're tired, your mind's on overload especially with the Interstate murders that Dobey was drilling us about. You'll feel better once you get some rest." Hutch said gently, his eyes softening with fondness for his exhausted friend, "Want me to drive?"
"What . . . and get us both killed?" Starsky said sleepily. The detectives grinned, remembering a time in their past when these exact words were spoken. Starsky winked at his partner and fished the car key from his pocket, inserting it into the lock; his hand stopping in mid-turn as dark brown eyes, distant and unaware floated through his memory . . .
"He's there . . . I see him . . . he's there watching you in the night . . . when . . . when you tell the woman to leave . . ." The soft voice that whispered in Starsky's mind, floated away on the sudden gust of wind that blew down the quiet street.
"Hey . . . it sure would be nice to get out of this wind buddy," Hutch said softly, concern deepening the ever present crease between his brows, "You planning on standing there all night?" The tall blond knew something was bothering his partner, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was.
"Huh? Oh . . . yeah, sorry . . . here . . ." Starsky said, tossing his partner the silver key over the shiny, red roof, "Get in the car and turn on the heater."
"Where you going?" Hutch asked, the surprise look on his face made the brunet immediately grin.
"Back to Huggy's . . .gonna check out a missing puzzle piece . . ." Starsky said, hunching his shoulders against the chilly night air, as he jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
"What?" Hutch questioned, watching his partner as he walked back towards the bar and grill.
Starsky didn't bother to answer, suddenly feeling the urgency to get back and check out the hunch he had. In his mind's eye, he could see the hooker's bright, blond hair as it shone under the light from the streets and he once again thought of Mari.
It was strange how he suddenly recalled the soft warning from the petite Asian girl, when he hadn't thought about her all evening once she had left. Now, as he got closer to Huggy's, he could feel the heavy hand of fear as it rested upon his shoulders. He began to walk faster, gradually increasing his pace until he found himself jogging.
The brunet stopped in front of "The Pits", his detective senses on high alert though he didn't know why he felt uneasy. About to walk to the door, he suddenly remembered the rest of what Mari had said before she made her hasty exit
"You try to help her. Y-you go back into the alley calling for her, but it's too late . . . he has her . . . he's dragged her by her long blond hair, his hand crushing her mouth to keep her screams silent. He knows . . . he knows . . . about you . . . about me . . ."
The alley. Starsky turned and ran to the darkened alley a couple of blocks away from Huggy's, drawing his piece from his holster beneath his jacket. Holding his gun high, he pressed his back against the wall at the mouth of the alley. Taking a deep breath, he whipped around the corner, his legs firmly apart, crouched slightly in a stance to maintain balance. His dark blue eyes darted down the alleyway, adjusting to the darkness within.
It was quiet . . . too quiet; his senses were on overload. He could hear his heart beating wildly in his chest, as he cautiously made his way down the narrow, trash littered walkway. He could hear glass crunching under the soles of his blue Adidas, and he silently cursed himself for his foolhardy eagerness to rush back here. He should've had Hutch here with him, watching his back.
He made out the shape of a metal dumpster in the distance, his spine beginning to tingle as he neared it. His senses were screaming by now, and Starsky had the strange feeling of being watched by something in the shadows.
"Hey . . ." he called out, as he crept closer to the dumpster, walking at an angle, keeping his back to the walls of the alley, feeling his heart rate accelerate. He could hear no sound save the whistling from the wind near the tunneled entrance.
He stopped suddenly, his dark, blue eyes spying the shape of something lying next to the dumpster. He closed his eyes, exhaling softly as he made out the bright, golden locks shining in the dim lights from the street. "Shit!" he whispered in the dark stillness of the night.
"Starsk?"
The dark haired cop whipped around, his gun pointing to his blond partner, "Don't do that!" he hissed.
"What's going on?" Hutch asked, walking carefully towards his friend, "What are you looking for?"
Starsky took a deep breath, swallowing hard, trying to get his senses back down to normal, "How'd you get here so fast huh?" he asked his partner who came up beside him.
"Had the key remember?" Hutch grinned, holding it up, silver flashing in the dim light, "What's going on?"
Starsky nodded in the direction of the body, "You tell me . . ."
To be continued . . .