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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: Sorry for the little trick last chapter about the critical injury, my husband thought it was hilarious. I also want to thank those of you who just choose to read this story. Thanks to all.
Chapter Four
Starsky heard the horn honk. He quickly downed the last of the orange juice in his glass and rinsed it, placing it in the sink. He picked the last piece of bacon off his plate, popping in his mouth and licking the grease off his thumb. The honk repeated.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." He said for no one in particular to hear. He passed through the dining room and living room quickly, grabbing his jacket off the dowel that hung by the front door. God, he hated being without his car. He felt so outta control.
As he descended the steps, he heard the pathetic honk again.
"I'm right here, dummy!" He shouted.
Hutch snickered. He loved using his car, he felt so in control. He thought to himself as his partner joined him. As Starsky sat in the passenger side, a broken spring in the seat attempted to familiarize itself with the curly haired detective hind end.
"Ow, dammit!" He tried to readjust himself in the seat, moving the metal object from his backside.
"Something wrong, Starsk?" Hutch played innocent.
"You know darn good and well what's wrong. I hate this car, an' it hates me!" He shot his partner a sideways glare. "So, what's on the docket for today?" He changed the subject.
"Huggy called. He wants us to meet him this morning. He's got someone he wants us to talk to."
"Yeah, who's that?" Starsky asked.
"Dunno, but it has something to do with Joey Martins. Any word on your car?" Hutch was a little afraid to bring up the sore subject.
"Yeah, Merle called me this morning. I guess it was touch an' go all night. The internal damage was more extensive than originally thought. They must've popped the hood and tore up her insides." Just saying it gave Starsky the shivers. "But looks like he'll be able to put everything back together. She'll be good as new in no time!" A smile showing on his face.
"I'm happy for you, Starsk." Hutch congratulated his partner as he pulled away from the curb. "I'm happy for both of you."
XXXX
When they arrived at the Pits, they were surprised to find the back door in the alley, locked. In all the years they had known Huggy Bear, they had never seen the alley door of his 'open all night' establishment, locked. The two men shrugged at each other in confusion. With the fist of his right hand, Starsky hit the heavy metal door with a fair amount of force. The noise it made on a door that solid, was minimal. Hutch looked to the ground and picked up a piece of wood, using it as a tool he struck the door three times, creating the sufficient amount of noise to receive an approving nod from Starsky, as he rubbed his sore fist.
They heard the lock disengage, as the door was pushed out towards them. Huggy peaked his head around the edge of the door, making sure it was the dynamic duo, then waived them in.
They passed through the doorway as Huggy shut and locked the door quickly behind them. Both detectives looked at their friend with curiosity.
"What's goin' on here?" Hutch asked him. Huggy pressed his finger to his lips, shhing the men.
"She's upstairs." He whispered.
"Who's upatairs?" Hutch inquired, whispering back although he wasn't sure why.
"Her name is Sandy, she works for Martins. Look, I promised her you guys wouldn't hassle her or take her in or nothin'. I told her she could trust you guys, that's the only reason why she agreed to talk to you two."
"She can trust us, Hug." Starsky replied, almost insulted by the mere implication.
"I know that Starsky, but she don't. She's scared guys, and I mean really scared. Take it easy on her 'kay?" With that Huggy headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Hutch looked over at Starsky. "Hey, you want some coffee?" He asked as he went behind the counter helping himself.
"Nah, thanks. I think I've reached my target heart rate for the day." Starsky grabbed a chair and swung it around in one hand, straddling it backwards.
"Suit yourself." He said as he poured his coffee and joined his partner at the small table next to the bar.
They heard the pair returning. Huggy held the young girls hand as he brought her down the flight of stairs and over to the table the two detectives had chosen to occupy. Both men rose from their seats as they approached.
"This is the men I told you about, Detective Hutchinson and Starsky." Huggy pointed to the respectively. "Hutch, Starsky, this is Sandy."
They could make out the remnants of the black eye, poorly hidden by her make-up. They were amazed at how young she looked, maybe 20 at the most. She was very petite with long dark hair and fair complexion. Big chocolate brown eyes met theirs as they all shook hands politely. Huggy pulled out her chair as the men waited for her to sit first, then joined her.
"I hear you guys want information on Joey Martins." She began the conversation, getting right to the point. "I told Huggy, I don't know how much help I can be." Her voice shaking slightly.
Starsky reached across the table reaching for her check that sported the bruise, causing her to pull back. "Who did that?"
"It's nothing. That's not why we're here." She responded. Starsky knew he had better drop it if he wanted this conversation to continue.
"What can you tell us 'bout Martins and his operation?" Hutch changed the subject.
"That depends."
"On what?" Starsky interjected.
"Whatever I say to you is strictly off the record. I don't want it used against me later." She was fidgeting with a paper napkin she got off the table. "It's for your information only. Deal?" She looked back and forth between the two.
Hutch looked at his partner. "Deal." He responded.
"How long have you known Martins?' Starsky started the questioning.
"I've worked…um…known Joey for about four years now."
"Four years? If ya' don't mind me askin', how old are you?" Starsky wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer.
"I turned nineteen, two days ago."
"Well, happy birthday." Starsky said as he looked at Hutch, both of them realizing that would make her just fifteen when she started working for that creep.
"Sandy, did you know CeCe Davis?" Hutch asked as he watched the color drain from her face.
"Yeah, I knew her. She was a good friend of mine." She was now tearing the paper napkin she held in her hands, to shreds.
"Then you know she's dead." Hutch elaborated as she nodded in acknowledgment, lowering her head, turning her gaze to her lap and swallowing hard. "Why was she killed?"
"She told me she was gonna ask Joey to let her go, let her out of our 'family'. She was really tryin' to put her life together. I tried to talk her outta it, I was afraid he'd get mad. You don't wanna get Joey mad." Sandy took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to control her emotions. "She wouldn't listen, it meant a lot to her to make somethin' of herself. I really think she coulda done it."
"Do you know who killed her?" The blond continued as both detectives' stare was locked on the poor, frightened girl.
Without looking up, she nodded, bracing herself. She knew the questions were only going to get tougher. This was bringing back memories she wasn't sure she was ready for.
"Sandy? Did Joey Martins kill CeCe Davis?" Starsky took over at this point.
The rhythm of her breathing increased as she shook her head, no. "Not directly." Her voice quivering.
"Did he have her killed?" The brunet asked gently.
She lifted her head to their level. One single tear rolled down her right cheek, but her vision was blurred by the accumulation of moisture in her eyes, waiting to be released. A second tear fell.
"Yes." She whispered.
"By who?" Starsky continued without hesitation.
"There were two guys, they work for Joey…Ones named Ricky something, an' I don't know the other ones name…They took turns…" She took in a slow shaky breath. "…beating her, they took turns." Her tears were flowing.
Huggy excused himself from the table and returned with a glass of water, which Sandy took in her trembling hands.
"Did you see them hurt her?" Hutch chimed in.
"No, but we could hear her screams, begging for us to help her, for someone to help her. But no one could do anything…" Starsky looked at Hutch shaking his head in disgust. Both men horrified at what this poor girl had been through. "When they were finished with her, after she was…after she was dead, they made us look at her. Look at what could happen to us if we didn't behave, or made him mad…I remember seeing her there, on the ground, bloody…I must've passed out, 'cause I woke up back in my room…Same thing with that girl a couple of nights ago." She squeezed her eyes shut tight as if she were trying to shut out the visions that were flooding her memory.
Finally, they thought, someone knew who Jane Doe was. Huggy sat quietly, watching the exchange.
"What was her name?" Starsky said as he pulled his notepad and pen from his pocket.
"I dunno. She'd only been around a few months. She told us her name was 'Sugar', but most the girls don't give Joey their real names. Half the time they're either runnin' from something, the other half they just don't wanna be found."
"Which of these two categories are you in?" Hutch inquired, but she chose not to answer. Both detectives exchanged glances. Hutch looked back at Sandy. "You know, you don't have to go back. We can protect you."
"Protect me? Great! What about the other girls? He's got them held up in half a dozen different places. Some of them I don't even know where they are. If he finds out I talked to you, or if I don't go back, the others will pay…I care about them…My best friend's still there…I don't know what I'd do if something happens to her…So you see, I do have to go back."
"Where can we find Martins?" Starsky asked, determined to free these women, girls, from this sadistic man.
She shrugged. "I dunno. We never really know when or where he's gonna show up. Pretty much everything goes through his men."
Hutch wiped his hand across his mouth and chin. Starsky was busy writing something in his notepad, when he finished, he tore out the page, folding it in half.
"If you think or hear of anything, here's our number." He said taking her wrist in his hand and placing the paper in her palm bending her fingers gently around it, then pointing at her. "Also, if you need anything, you can call us. Huggy here also knows how to reach us." He released his grip on her wrist.
She stared back at the brunet intently. "Please, just find him an' put him away. That's the only chance any of us have." She begged of them.
Starsky looked at his partner then back at the terrified girl. "We will." He promised.
She rose from the table, "I have to get back before they wonder what's taking me so long."
Hutch grabbed her forearm as she walked by him, "You gonna be okay?"
"Well, I guess that depends on you two. I hope you're as good as Huggy says you are." She said before continuing on her way with Huggy right behind her, escorting her to the door, leaving Starsky and Hutch alone momentarily.
"Whatya thinkin'?" Hutch asked his friend, seeing the frustration on his face.
Starsky wiped both hands down the entire length of his face. "I'm thinkin' we need to find this guy before one of his girls piss him off again."
"But how?"
"With a lotta luck." Starsky answered. "A lotta luck."
Huggy unlocked and opened the back door leading to the alley. He bent down and kissed Sandy on the cheek. "You be careful! Call me if you need anything. Those two clowns in there really want to help." He gestured back to the detectives with a flip of his head.
"Well, I hope they can help. I don't feel like my information is gonna make much of a difference though."
"Just keep your eyes an' ears open, you dig?"
"Yeah, thanks Huggy." She ran out the door and down the alleyway towards the street.
As she rounded the corner of the building she was stopped in her tracks by Ricky, Joey's right-hand man. She tried to scream but her mouth was quickly covered by his large hand and she was roughly thrown into a tan Cadillac parked at the curb directly in front of them. Tires squealing and smoke from the burning rubber rose from the rear of the car as it peeled away and into the busy street.
To Be Continued