When Hutch walked in the next morning, Starsky was staring at the ceiling with his good arm under his head.

"Hey buddy. How are you feeling?"

"Bored. I'm tired of counting the same cracks over and over again. You know, I find it amazing that cracks in the ceiling can actually make you go to sleep."

Hutch looked up over his head, then at Starsky. "Isn't that what the pain medicine is for?"

"Pretty ironic, isn't it? Hey, do you see that arrangement of flowers right there by the door? They came this morning, and as you can tell, I can't quite reach them. See if there's a note."

Hutch picked up the small gift, and found what he was looking for. Pulling a piece of paper out of the miniature envelope, he turned pale as he read it to himself. He looked at his partner, and read slowly, "'Next time I won't miss.'"

"What? You're kidding me, right? It doesn't really say that, does it?"

Hutch showed Starsky the note. "See for yourself. It's from your assailant, whoever he is. He's not going to give up until you're dead."

"Hutch, come on. Do you honestly believe he would come back? If his aim was any good, he wouldn't have missed me. Trust me, if he was going to kill me, he would have done it the first time."

"Starsky, what if his aim is better than you think? He may have just been trying to scare you."

"He sent me flowers! What crazed maniac shoots his victim, sends him flowers, and then comes back to kill him?" Starsky sighed. "Hutch, get out of here. You're making my side hurt."

"I think that's a good idea. Get some rest this afternoon, and think about this note. Maybe you'll come to your senses."

"How am I supposed to think if I'm asleep?"

"Maybe you'll dream about it; man, I don't know. Now relax, will ya?"

"Fine, whatever. But I still think you're wrong."

"Do me a favor, Starsk."

"Sure, as long as you quit telling me to go to sleep."

"How'd you know that was what I was going to say?"

"Because you've said it twice already. Now, will you get outta here so that I can rest? Oh, one more thing before you go. Could you fluff my pillows?"

xxxxxxxx

After work the next evening, Hutch headed to Melissa's house. He knocked, and after a few moments he heard Ashley ask from the other side, "Who is it?"

He responded, "Ken Hutchinson, Dave's friend." As she opened the door, he asked, "Hi, Ashley, do you remember me?"

She nodded. "Come on in. Mom, it's-what was your name again?"

Stepping through the doorway, the tall blond smiled as he replied, "Hutch. Melissa, I need to talk to you. It's kind of important."

"Okay. Ashley, go on to your room and get started on your homework." Melissa watched her daughter walk into the bedroom and close the door. "What is it, Hutch?"

"Did you work yesterday morning?"

"No, I never work on Sundays."

"Do you know who did? It's urgent that I get in touch with them."

"Hmm...I believe Lauren Coleman worked yesterday. Why?"

"Next question: Do you allow your customers to write their own notes?"

"Yes, we do. Hutch, what's going on?"

Hutch hesitated before responding. "I don't think you need to know right now. Let's just say that it may turn out to be a matter of life or death."

"If you can't tell me, then why did you bother coming over? You're scaring me by asking all these questions. And what do you mean by 'a matter of life or death'?"

"If I tell you, it will only scare you more. I don't want to do that to you."

"Tell me what? That the guy who tried to murder Dave bought flowers from where I work and sent them to him?"

Hutch fell silent. He looked down at the ground, not wanting to meet the gaze his partner's girlfriend was sending him.

"Oh my god. That really happened? Hutch, I was just trying to be sarcastic. Are you sure it came from Betty's?"

"I'm sure. The logo was on the front of the envelope."

"What did the note say?"

Hutch pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He found the note and handed it to Melissa. "Here it is."

Melissa gasped. "You don't have to talk to Lauren. I know who wrote it."

Hutch was startled. "You do? How do you know?"

Melissa replied a moment later, "I recognize the handwriting. It belongs to Stephen, my ex-husband."

"Melissa, are you sure?" Hutch paused. "Hold on a second. I thought Starsky told me that you and Ashley were originally from Colorado."

"We were, and I was sure that Stephen didn't know where we were."

"Wouldn't he need to know if he wanted to see Ashley?"

"That's just it. Why would he want to see her? He never cared for her. Stephen wasn't a very good father. He was an alcoholic, and he used to beat Ashley. I finally had enough, and when she was five, we left."

"If he doesn't care, then why is he here? Melissa, he tried to kill your boyfriend. Stephen's trying to protect something from him."

"Like what? It isn't like he really cares about us."

Hutch placed his hands on Melissa's shoulders. "Listen, I don't know what he's after. I only know that he's trying to murder someone we both care about. As a cop, it's my job to find out exactly where he is, what he wants, and stop him before he can harm Starsky-or for that matter, anyone else-again. As Starsky's best friend, I would at least attempt to do that, regardless of my profession. And you better believe that when I find Stephen, he's going to wish he had never messed with Starsky in the first place."

Melissa watched Hutch leave. After the door shut, Melissa sat on the couch, and she drew her knees up to her chin. With tears streaming down her face, she quietly said, "I'm not much of a praying woman, but I'm really scared. Stephen is trying to kill Dave, and there's nothing I can do about it. What if Hutch can't stop him? He loves Dave more than I do. He'll be devastated if something goes wrong and Dave ends up dying. And what about Ashley? She's crazy about Dave, and terrified of her father. If Stephen gets to Dave, who's to say he won't come after us as well?"

Melissa remained on the couch, weeping and fearful, not knowing that her daughter had heard the entire prayer.