Feedback: If it feels right, please 'do it'.

Disclaimer: I make no money from this. Starsky and Hutch do not belong to me, I just borrow them, and promise to return them in the same condition I found them in. My characters do belong to me, and I can use them as I see fit, until they start fighting back.

Authors Note: Thank you to all who are reading and reviewing this story. And to those who just chose to read it. I really do appreciate it all! Thanks Eli and Strut for your constant encouragements.

Warning: There is a critical injury of one of the main characters. This chapter is not for the faint of heart.

Chapter 3

"Yeah, that's right." Huggy was bent at his waist, leaning in Hutch's side window of the Torino. They were in the alley behind Huggy's establishment, it was early evening, the sun was just setting. The black man continued, "She went by CeCe, and from what I hear, she was workin' for Joey Martins. He's one real bad dude, has a rep for keepin' his girls in line, if you catch my drift?"

"Where can we find him, Hug?" Starsky asked, looking straight ahead out the front window.

"I'm workin' on that. He never stays in one place for too long. Last I heard he was hangin' out at some dive over on Fifth an' Broadway, Tony's Tavern I think. I just dunno if he still frequents that place or not."

"Well, that give us a place to start, thanks Huggy." Hutch acknowledged.

"Hey, another thing you guys might be interested in, word has it that CeCe was tryin' to get out, go straight. She enrolled at a local college, taking some day classes or somethin'. Some people think that's why she got offed. There's only one way to get away from Martins, and it's not a very appealing option, if you hear what I'm sayin'?"

"We hear ya'." Starsky started the monster motor of his car, revving the engine a couple of times before shifting into drive.

"Thanks, Hug. We'll be in touch." Hutch said as their friend stepped away from the car. Starsky squealing the tires slightly as they pulled away. "You think Jane Doe was tryin' to get out too?" He asked his partner.

"There's no way to tell, we don't even know who she is." Starsky said in frustration.

"It seems hard to believe that nobody is missing or lookin' for her. Where are her parents? Brothers, sisters?"

"Got me." Starsky answered his friends rhetorical question. They drove in silence and deep thought to Tony's Tavern. Starsky parked his car at the rear entrance, and they walked around the front of the business.

They entered the bar, it was the epitome of the typical 'biker bar'. Several burly, hairy men with serious beer bellies lined the Tavern, all clad in the similar leather vests or jackets, boots and jeans. The women were the 'biker mama' types, sporting as many tattoos and as much leather as the guys. The air was heavy with the fog and the stench of cigarette smoke. The sound of gruff voices, clanking glasses and laughter filled the place.

"Nice crowd." Starsky whispered to his partner, as he fanned the cloud of smoke away from his face. Hutch just prayed silently that his abrasive partner wouldn't get them in trouble in this setting. Starsky was not known for his tact, that's for sure.

Both detectives headed straight for the bartender, pulling their badges from their back pockets. The man behind the bar was a tall dark haired man, very muscular. Even Hutch had to look up at him to meet his gaze.

"I'm Detective Ken Hutchinson, this is my partner Detective Dave Starsky." He introduced him with a simple hand gesture, providing their shields for identification.

"Whatta you want?" The man asked, cutting out any pleasantries and getting right to the point.

Starsky and Hutch looked at each other shrugging off the man's rudeness. "We're lookin' for someone, we hear he likes this place." Starsky explained, returning his badge to his back pocket.

"You don't say. Well, I'm afraid I can't help you." Was the response they received.

"You don't even know who we're lookin' for yet!" Starsky retorted, the irritation in his voice rising.

"Like I said, I can't help you!" He repeated. Starsky looked at Hutch, who just raised his eyebrows and shrugged at his hot-headed friend. Starsky walked around the bar approaching the man from the right side.

Hutch leaned over the counter and stared the man intently in the eyes. "Perhaps you didn't hear my friend, we need your help finding someone." Hutch looked to his left and right checking his surroundings for possible threats. He knew his partner was about to lose his patience with this man.

Starsky grabbed the mans' collar in one hand and pulled him close, bending him down to his level. "His name is Joey Martins. A real stand-up fella, from what I hear." He said pursing his lips together and shaking his finger in the mans' face. "He gets off beating up young girls, an' I don't like him!" The stare of Starsky's ice blue eyes cut through him.

The bartender attempted to twist from Starsky's grasp, causing the detective to grab his shirt in both hands and slam him into the back of the bar, glass shattering around him. Hutch turned around to face the crowd in the bar, badge in one hand, Magnum in the other.

"It's okay, we're police officers. Everyone just stay where you are, and we'll be finished in no time. Now everyone, take a seat." He instructed the patrons, who readily complied, as he returned his attention to the men behind the bar. "Now, if I were you." he addressed the man in his friends' clutches. "I would answer his questions. See, when he gets like this, there's no tellin' what he's capable of. He's already been suspended twice for unnecessary violence against potential witnesses, and I'd just hate to have to work without him for another month. You understand what I'm sayin'?"

On that note, Starsky jerked the man forward just to slam him back into the bar again, causing more glasses and bottles to crash to the ground, but getting his point across nevertheless.

"Joey Martins! Spill it!" Starsky practically spit in the mans face.

"Alright, he used to come in here a few times a week, but I haven't seen him in over a month." The large man caved quickly.

"Where can we find him?" Hutch asked as his partner kept his eyes locked on the pathetic man in his clutches.

"I don't know…" The tavern employee felt himself being pulled forward and thrown back for a third time. His back becoming tender from the reoccurring thumps against the counter.

"Where!" Starsky said sharply.

"Really, I don't know!" He pled. "He just stopped comin' 'round. He used to hang out with some chick named Shilo and a dude named Graves or Grains, somethin' like that."

Starsky looked over at Hutch who nodded at him, signaling him to let the terrified man go. Before he did that Starsky had one final warning. "If I find out you lied to us, or didn't tell us everything, I'll be back, without my partner." He threatened as he released the man with one final shove, causing the man to trip over his own feet, landing on his butt. Starsky raised his index finger at the man in warning, as he kicked the bartender's feet out of his way.

Hutch turned to the others in the bar, announcing to all. "As you've just witnessed here, my partner and I are looking for Joey Martins, or anyone with any association with him. Feel free to put the word out that Starsky and Hutch want to speak with anyone with information leading to Mr. Martins, or anybody that has information regarding the death of a young girl by the name of CeCe Davis."

Starsky joined Hutch as they prepared to exit the tavern. They kept a cautious eye around them making sure no one had the bright idea to jump them as they were leaving. Just as they reached the door, Hutch looked back, smiling and winking at the crowd. "You all have a nice day!" He said sarcastically as they headed for the car.

As they walked around the building Hutch asked, "Whatya think? Think anyone in there knows Martins?"

"If they do, I'm sure he'll get word we're lookin' for him…Did you see the look on that bartenders face?" Starsky chuckled, proud of his intimidation skills.

"Yeah, even I thought you might deck him." Hutch joked.

"Don't think it didn't cross my mind." He smiled his crooked smile.

As they rounded the corner of the building, Hutch came to an abrupt halt. "Starsk." He put his hand up to his partner's chest, stopping him in his tracks.

Starsky looked in the direction of Hutch's stare, his car…they both reached for their weapons, Hutch turning in a complete circle, scanning their surroundings for anyone lurking in the shadows. Starsky kept his weapon out in front of him, but couldn't take his eyes off his destroyed vehicle.

"What the hell…Who…?" Starsky's heart jumped into his throat. His beloved Torino, the front windshield was smashed, all four tires slashed, both headlights broken, and spray painted along the entire length of the driver's side of the car were the words 'DIE YOU PIG!' in black paint.

"Well, I guess we got someone's attention." Hutch said.

"My car!" Was all Starsky could say.

XXXX

Starsky and Hutch stood by as they watched the tow truck pull into the department garage with Starsky's car riding piggy back. Hutch put a supportive arm around his distraught partner.

"Hutch, my car." He raised one hand feebly, pointing at the striped tomato like a fallen soldier.

"I know Starsk, I know." He said comforting him the best he could. "We'll find whoever's responsible for this, I promise." He reassured his friend.

Captain Dobey walked up behind them accompanied by a uniformed officer. "Sorry 'bout your car, Starsky." He offered his condolences. "Officer Mendoza here, has volunteered to give you two a lift back to Hutch's so you can pick up his car."

"Hutch's car?" Starsky whined. "Ah, Cap', haven't I been through enough today?"

Hutch looked at his partner and wagged his head side to side. "Oh come on. It's not that bad." He said defensively.

"Now Starsky, it's only temporary. The department's gonna take care of repairing your car. It's just gonna take some time, that's all."

""Cap', no one touches that car," Starsky started as he pointed to his prize possession, "No one except Merle. You have to call Merle, he'll know what to do." He begged his superior officer.

"I'll call him. Don't worry, I'll call him, son."

As the two detectives got ready to depart with Officer Mendoza, Starsky looked back at his captain. "Make sure you call me when you hear anything."

Dobey waived him off smiling. He acts like this car is a living, feeling being. He thought as he shook his head. Sad part was, to Starsky this was no joke. The Torino was a part of his family and he cared about her deeply.

Only the best mechanic would do. Dobey returned to his office and called Merle.

To Be Continued