CHAPTER 5

Hutch adjusted his guitar strap across his shoulder and pasted a smile on his face as he waited for his cue to go on stage. This was his fourth show, and he was still as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers before he started his portion of the show. Yet, despite his nerves, he was beginning to enjoy the applause from the audience that let him know he had done a good job. Still, for him, music would remain a pleasant past time that he enjoyed doing but not for a living.

He heard his name announced and strode on stage with a feigned confidence. But, he was good at being undercover so he was able to hide his nerves. As usual, he saw Starsky lingering at the edge of the stage where they could maintain eye contact with each other during the show.

He was nearing the end of his second song when he heard a familiar voice bellow out a warning, "HUTCHHHHH…."

Without a second thought, he dropped to the floor and rolled to his left just as one of the overhead stage lights crashed to the stage where he had been standing. Several women in the audience screamed in alarm, and he heard members of the band yelling for someone to close the curtain.

Starsky appeared at his side and reached out to grasp Hutch's shoulder. "Are you okay?" he demanded in a worried voice as he checked out his partner for any visible injuries.

"I'm fine," Hutch insisted as he let Starsky help him to his feet. He smiled at his concerned partner warmly. "Thanks to you, as usual."

"That was no accident," Starsky growled fiercely, his eyes smoldering with barely contained rage. "Looks like Mandy's stalker is looking to eliminate the competition."

The lady in question came running onto the stage and to Hutch's side. "Are you okay? I was backstage and heard all the ruckus." She stared at the shattered glass from the light that littered the stage. "You could have been killed."

"I think that was the idea," Starsky said sourly.

"This is getting too dangerous. Maybe we should just cancel the rest of the shows until the C.M.A.'s in Bay City."

"We can't do that!" said her manager who had joined her on the stage. "Do you realize how much money you'll lose if you do?"

"I'd rather lose money than see somebody get killed," Mandy shot back.

"It's okay," Hutch assured her. "Starsky and I can take care of ourselves, and this may be the only way we're going to catch whoever is behind this."

"By making yourself a target for a mad man?"

"It won't be the first time we've been the target," Starsky told her. "And it's better one of us instead of you."

Mandy turned to her manager. "Make sure everyone in the audience gets their money back, and tell the promoter we'll reschedule the show and play it for free."

"Let me handle this," he started to argue, only to be cut off by a very determined Mandy.

"No, you'll do it my way. It's the right thing to do." With those words, she walked away, leaving an angry manager who decided to vent on the two detectives.

"I'm beginning to think that it was a mistake to bring you two into this!" he snapped.

"You can think what you want," Hutch told him. "But, we've started to spook this guy, and he's going to start making mistakes. That's how we're going to catch him."

"I just hope Mandy has a career left by the time you do."

"From what I've seen, the lady knows how to handle herself," Starsky snorted. "And how to run her own show."

The manager turned and stormed away, obviously upset at being overruled by his client and put in his place in front of the rest of the troupe. Starsky and Hutch exchanged amused grins.

"Looks like the lady has spunk after all," Hutch said with a chuckle.

"I wouldn't want to piss her off," Starsky agreed with a chuckle of his own. Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of the local police who had been called to make a report about the near fatal accident.

Closer examination of the ceiling light revealed that although the cables supporting it looked frayed, they had actually been cut partially through allowing for the weight of the light to pull it down during Hutch's performance. The very nature of the "accident" made it glaringly obvious that someone connected with the show had to be involved in order to gain access to the overhead lighting.

Routine questioning of the crew members who had been in the immediate vicinity turned up no new clue to the identity of the perpetrator. The officers took their report and left, leaving Starsky and Hutch to discuss the case between themselves. They found a quiet corner where they could talk in private.

"There has to be someone connected with the show involved. We need to call Dobey and see if he found out anything on his end." Hutch closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel pressure building behind his eyes, a sure sign of an oncoming migraine headache.

"Headache?" Starsky asked in a concerned voice, familiar with the early symptoms of Hutch's migraines.

"I'll be okay," Hutch insisted. He couldn't afford to let himself get distracted from the case at hand. He had prescription medication in his bag. He would slip away and take some when he got a chance.

"Why don't you go take your pills and lie down?" Starsky suggested "I'll call Dobey and see if he's made any progress."

When Hutch nodded and walked away without arguing, Starsky knew the pain must be worse than Hutch was willing to admit. Pushing his concern for his partner down, Starsky walked in the opposite direction to find a pay phone to call Bay City.

Since it was evening, Starsky knew that Dobey would be at home with his family. He automatically dialed that number instead of police headquarters. After a few rings, a tiny voice said politely, "Dobey residence."

Starsky immediately recognized the voice of Captain Dobey's six year old daughter, Rosie, a precocious and spirited young lady. "Hi, Rosie Posy," he said "Can I talk to your daddy, please?"

"Hi, Uncle Dave!" Rosie chirped in a delighted voice when she heard one of her favorite 'honorary' uncles on the line. "I miss you and Uncle Hutch."

"I miss you too, honey. Can I talk to your daddy now?"

"Yes. I'll get him for you." There was a muffled sound as she laid down the receiver while she went to find her father and tell him that he was wanted on the phone.

After a short wait, Dobey's gruff voice sounded in Starsky's ear. "Starsky? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Just calling to let you know that Hutch almost got creamed by a stage light that fell during his set tonight."

"Is he okay?" Dobey may come off as being gruff and stern but the truth was he cared deeply for the men under his command, And, although he would never admit it, Starsky and Hutch were as close to his family as if they were blood.

"Yeah. I saw it before it fell and yelled at him to get down. That pretty much proves that somebody with the show has to be connected with what's going on."

"I'd have to agree."

"Did you find out anything on any of the names we sent you?"

"Just the usual. Some petty theft, D.U.I.'s, unpaid fines and tickets, and a couple of domestic violence. Nothing major."

"Damn," Starsky muttered, "We have to be missing something."

'I'll keep digging, and you do the same." Dobey paused and then added "And keep an eye on that partner of yours."

"Always." Starsky ended the call and stood there for several minutes, deep in thought, as he ran through the facts of the case in his mind. Something kept nagging at the back of his mind. Something he felt he should be seeing but wasn't. He just could put his finger on what it was.

One of Starsky's biggest advantages in his career was the fact that due to his appearance and his background, people tended to underestimate him. In truth, he was well-read and self-educated with a natural instinct and intuition that served him well in his chosen profession. Hutch might be college educated with a more analytical mind, but Starsky was just sharp with his own unique way of figuring things out.

Finally, he sighed and went off to check on his partner and found Hutch dozing in the back of one of the semis. Still too keyed up to sleep, Starsky decided to take a walk.

He left the arena parking lot and began walking towards a small carry-out a few blocks away. The night was quiet, and the stillness helped to soothe his nerves. He reached his destination where he bought a candy bar and a cold soda. He started back to the arena.

He was passing the mouth of a dark alley when something hit him in the back with such force that he dropped to his knees. Before he could respond, a second blow to the back of his head sent him sprawling on the pavement. Someone began kicking him viciously in the ribs, forcing him to curl his body into a fetal position to protect the more vulnerable parts of his anatomy. The attack only lasted for a minute, but it felt longer as the air was forced from his chest from the blows to his sides and back

When the attack stopped just as suddenly as it had started, Starsky lay there, stunned and struggling to draw air into his oxygen-starved lungs. A voice hissed in his ear, breath hot on his cheek, "Tell your friend that the next time he won't be so lucky if he doesn't stay away from Mandy. She belongs to me!"

Footsteps faded into the darkness as Starsky painfully struggled to his feet. His clothes were dirty, his tee shirt was torn, and his ribs were tender, but he didn't think anything was broken. He could feel scrapes from the rough pavement, and he was sure the bruising would be ugly, but that would be the worst of it

With slow steps, he made his way back to the arena and climbed into the back of the semi where Hutch was still sleeping. Taking care not to make any unnecessary noise, Starsky quietly laid down on a makeshift pallet beside his partner. He knew that Hutch would be furious in the morning when he saw Starsky's bruises and found out what had happened, but Starsky would deal with that when the time came. Right now, all he wanted to do was to get some much needed sleep.