A big thank you to everyone who has read this story so far and left a comment. It means a lot. RL keeps me from keeping up like I should
CHAPTER 7
The next night, Starsky dressed carefully for his second assignment from the escort agency. He wore a pair of pressed black jeans that he had recently purchased and a red turtleneck sweater. He felt confident that he was dressed okay for an office party. He arrived at the Carlton building and waited in the underground parking garage as instructed.
It was almost nine p.m. before Amanda Bruce finally arrived driving a blue Mercedes.
She was younger than Starsky had expected, close to his own age. She had silvery blonde hair that was obviously bleached and cut one of the latest styles. She was almost as tall as Starsky in her heels. She was dressed in a simple pale pink shift accented by a silver link belt.
"You must be David," she said as she ran her gaze over Starsky's lean, muscular build, leering boldly at the obvious bulge in his jeans.
"Amanda Bruce?" Starsky said, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another under the scrutiny of her gaze.
"Of course." She said as if she were talking to a child. "Well, come along…we're late as it is."
Starsky bit back the urge to tell her that he had been there on time; she was the one who was almost an hour late. Silently, he followed her across the pavement to the elevators. They stepped inside the nearest empty car and Amanda pushed the button for the sixteenth floor. As the elevator began to rise, Amanda said curtly,
"All you have to do is stay beside me and look good and don't disagree with anything I might say about you."
"Gotcha," Starsky grumbled, irritated at being talked down to. He had a feeling it was going to be a long evening.
As the doors opened on the sixteenth floor, the noise level was almost deafening. The entire floor was crowded with men and women milling around. Some were obviously intoxicated. Briefly, Starsky wondered what kind of business these people were in but decided he wasn't curious enough to ask.
Ignoring Starsky, Amanda worked her way through the crowd, stopping frequently to speak to an associate. It was obvious that Starsky's only role was to be seen as her 'date' for the evening and nothing more.
"Why don't you go check out the buffet table, dear," Amanda said in that same condescending voice she had been using all evening. "Just don't wander away."
Starsky nodded and walked across the room to where a long table was covered with a variety of appetizers, deserts, snacks and finger sandwiches. There was also an open bar where any alcoholic beverage you could want was being served. Starsky filled a plate with potato chips, hot wings, stuffed mushrooms, and two slices of pepperoni pizza. Grabbing a cold beer from the bar, he found a vacant spot against the wall where he could stand and eat while observing the room.
His cop's eyes easily spotted pills being taken openly and marijuana cigarettes being lit and passed around. He wondered how many other illegal activities were going on behind the closed office doors. He reminded himself that he was not here as a cop but an escort for the evening, bought and paid for.
Starsky found himself leaning against the wall most of the evening while Amanda mingled. Since she was basically ignoring him, he wondered why she had bothered to pay for an escort for the evening in the first place. From what Starsky had seen so far it seemed that there were two types of clients who paid for an escort, those who were lonely and just wanted some company and those who just wanted an escort as a cover or for appearance's sake. It was apparent that Amanda fell into the latter group.
By the time the party broke up around two a.m., everyone except Starsky was drunk. Amanda stumbled to his side and grabbed his arm. In a slurred voice she said,
"Time to go, handsome."
"Maybe you should let me drive you home." Starsky suggested as they left the office and took one of the elevators down to the parking garage.
"I can get home by myself. Your services are no longer needed." Amanda said curtly.
"Fine. Just trying to be a gentleman," Starsky said just as curtly.
"Honey, you ain't no gentleman…you're just a body I paid for and the parties over."
"Great," Starsky mumbled as the doors slid open and they stepped into the underground garage. Walking over to the Torino he unlocked the door and then looked over the roof watching Amanda as she staggered to her car. He was torn between leaving and insisting that Amanda let him call her a cab. She was clearly in no condition to drive. The decision was taken out of his hands when Amanda squealed out of the garage. Sighing, Starsky slid under the wheel and turned the ignition. The Torino roared to life with a satisfying rumble. Backing out of the parking slot, he pulled up the ramp and into the street. He drove back to his rented room in silence, lost in his own thoughts.
He had barely walked in the door when the phone began to ring. Grumbling under his breath, Starsky crossed the room in three steps and grabbed up the receiver. "This better be important." He growled. He was tired and irritable. All he wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed.
"We got another body," Hutch's voice said in his ear.
"Where?" Starsky said with a heavy sigh. Sleep was going to have to wait.
"Old Mill Drive off of Holland."
"I'm on my way," Starsky said. He hung up and turned to leave for the second time that evening.
Thirty minutes later, Starsky pulled up alongside the other official vehicles parked at the edge of the road. Like the other victims, this one had been left at the bottom of a steep ravine in a secluded area. Starsky half stumbled, half slid down the side of the ravine. Two powerful spotlights lit up the night illuminating the crime scene. Like the other victims, this man was nude and had been castrated. But, unlike the other victims, this man was a blond and hadn't been beaten like the others.
"Hey," Starsky said as he joined his partner.
"Hey," Hutch greeted his partner with a smile. "Sorry to drag you out of bed."
"I haven't made it that far yet," Starsky grunted. Practiced eyes swept over the scene. "He doesn't fit the M.O. Copycat?"
"Let's hope not. We don't need two crazies out there playing slice and dice."
"Let's hope we can get this guy identified quick so we can see if he ties in with others or not."
It was almost two hours before Starsky was finally able to call it a night and head back to his motel. Unlocking the door, he flopped down on the bed without bothering to undress and fell asleep almost immediately.
A loud knocking at the door pulled Starsky from a sound sleep. Groaning as he opened his eyes, Starsky growled loudly, "Go away!"
"It's me. Hutch. Let me in, Gordo."
Muttering obscenities under his breath, Starsky shoved himself out of the comfort of his bed and walked to the door. He pulled it open and glared at his partner.
"Do you know what time it is?" he snarled
"Yeah, it's eight-thirty," Hutch said with a smile.
"And I've only had about two hours sleep. What's so important that you're banging on my door this early?"
"We identified the body we found. He wasn't an escort. His name was Nathan Moyer and he was a college student at U.C.L.A."
"So it was a copycat."
"Maybe, maybe not."
"Oh come on, it's too damn early for this, Blondie. What's that supposed to mean?"
"Maybe the real killer is trying to throw us off track by changing his M.O." Hutch suggested.
"Great. So we're right back at square one." Starsky grumbled as he flopped down on the edge of the bed.
"Unless more bodies turn up like the one last night."
"You're just a regular ray of sunshine this morning, aren't ya?"
"Go back to sleep," Hutch said with a chuckle. "We can talk more about the case this afternoon when you're not so cranky."
"Meet me down the street from the agency around three." Starsky said. He was already stretching out on the bed and making himself comfortable. Hutch smiled and let himself out of the apartment.