She's Not There

By M. Willow

Chapter Eight

It had taken some time for Starsky to get Susan calmed down. She was so fragile, so easily injured. She was a study in contrast: a demanding lover in bed, a demur, fragile girl everywhere else. It didn't fit.

Starsky had made love to Susan after they got home. She had been so sweet, so needy, and he wanted her, but their lovemaking had been punctuated with lingering doubts. Hutch had never lied to him. Had never disliked someone for no reason. If he didn't like Susan, there had to be a good reason. Was she really a beautiful, venerable girl, or was there something more sinister?

He looked down at her small, upturned face. She looked a lot like Jenny when she slept, especially since she had dyed her hair red. She had Jenny's mannerisms too, which didn't make sense, since she had never met the woman. Then there was the accent. Starsky couldn't recall exactly when that started, but shortly after they had returned from Dobey's cabin, it had changed. Before she spoke with a Midwestern accent, sort of the way Hutch spoke when he was tired and his true roots came out. But now the woman sounded like she came straight out of Boston. It came and went, though, which also didn't make sense.

Their sex life had changed too. The woman actually gave him pause in bed, which wasn't easy to do. At first he told himself that she was a quick learner and eager to make up for lost time, but this went far beyond that. Susan wanted to try things in bed that were far too advanced for a woman claiming to be almost a virgin. And her technique was so similar to Jenny's that Starsky couldn't tell who he was actually making love to.

During the day, Susan was the sweet girl next door, blushing easily, batting her eyelashes. Very suspicious.

Starsky needed to do some digging into her past. Find out if she was somehow related to Jenny and was back for revenge. So far Susan claimed no knowledge of ever having met Jenny, but the way she looked, her mannerisms, the things they did in bed, told a different story. He wasn't buying coincidence, not when you were a cop and at least ten people in Bay City daily wanted you dead.

Starsky was convinced Hutch knew something. The blond had been walking on eggshells with him, afraid to speak his mind. If Hutch knew something, he was waiting on conclusive evidence before speaking. He wouldn't come crashing in, telling Starsky the woman was poison unless he had irrefutable proof.

Damn, Kira, he thought. Had it not been for her, they would have been working together on this. Would have found out what Susan was up to.

Of course, Susan could very well be just an innocent girl. At which point he was totally crazy and imagining the whole thing.

Starsky eased himself from the bed. It was who do you trust time and the answer was always going to be Me and Thee.

--

Hutch still couldn't believe what had happened. Still, it hadn't been a total waste. After he left The Pitts, he'd taken the glass with Susan's fingerprints to the station to be analyzed. He'd made it a rush job, so he hoped to have answers ready for Starsky soon. Once the report was ready, he would tell his partner everything, and hope the brunet believed him.

Hutch was in the kitchen getting a beer when the telephone rang. He answered it quickly, half expecting to hear Starsky's voice, knowing he wouldn't.

"Hello," he said.

"Ken. It's me. It's Kira."

Hutch could barely recognize the voice. The last time he saw her was the day she showed up at Parker Center to beg he and Starsky to forgive her. She'd actually suggested lunch. But both men had turned her down and she left crying.

Now she was back at the worst possible time. "We're not having this conversation," he said tightly.

"You've gotta meet me."

"For what? Another round of lets-destroy-Hutch. That's what you're calling for? Or is it you just miss screwing me over in more than one way?" His voice was harsh, anger tingeing the words.

"You've got to listen to me. Please."

She sounded tearful, but then Kira was an excellent actress. Especially when she was after something.

"Why don't you climb back into your hole, Kira."

"Please, Ken. Don't hang up. You've got to meet me."

"No. We're not having this conversation." Hutch was prepared to hang up. Kira had cost him enough heartache to last a life time.

"Please. If you value Dave's life you won't hang up."

Silence followed. The mention of his partner sent a chill down his spine. "What's this about?"

"Meet me."

Hutch didn't know if he could believe her, but if Starsky was in danger, he needed to hear what she had to say.

"What's this got to do with Starsky? Talk to me or I'm hanging up."

"Okay, but not over the phone. You've got to meet me."

"This has better not be a trick."

"It's not. But I can't talk now. Not over the phone."

Hutch grabbed his gun and holster, strapping it on. "When and where?"

"Back of Jilly's Club. About twenty minutes."

"Huggy's place," he said, wanting a more familiar setting.

"Too dangerous." Her voice sounded desperate. For a moment, he wondered if someone were holding a gun to her head. Kira was nervous, scared. She was a hard-nosed cop so that wasn't an easy feat.

"Okay. I'm on my way."

"Come, alone, or no meet."

"Why? What difference does it make?"

"Alone, Ken." And then she hung up.

Hutch had his coat on and was out the door without a backwards glance.

TBC