She's Not There
By M. Willow
Chapter Fifteen
Starsky sat in his car watching Huggy walk away. He'd had the slim barkeeper bring a case of beer so he could return to his apartment and pretend he'd actually gone to the store. In reality he'd moved his car a few blocks down and had been sitting there all that time. It had been the longest half hour of his life. He didn't seriously believe Susan would try and kill Hutch in his own apartment, and his partner was hardly helpless, but she was a professional killer. And Hutch was alone with her now. It didn't matter that several cops were stationed nearby. He wanted to be there.
There were three cops stationed around Hutch's apartment too: two in the building across the street and one man who was hiding in a small utility room right off from the entrance to Hutch's apartment. They were there because both he and his partner had a strong feeling that Susan was going to try and kill Hutch tonight. He'd seen it in her eyes, her overwhelming hatred for the blond growing stronger with each passing day.
Starsky stared up at the moon. It was nearly ten o'clock and the moon was full and golden, casting shadows on the tree-lined streets. Starsky enjoyed living in this part of town because it was in stark contrast to the mean streets he patrolled on a daily basis. But now he saw only danger, every sound amplified every sight a precursor to death. Susan, in her short time with him had transformed his life, turning it into one out of control ride into terror.
Starsky turned the key in the ignition, pulling out into the streets. It didn't take long to find himself in front of his apartment. He scanned the streets, seeing neither person nor animal, the cops well hidden from view. Huggy had parked his car on the other side of the street and was no doubt hiding someplace, waiting for Hutch to come out. In the few short years Starsky had known the man he'd become one of their closest friends, willing to risk his life for either he or Hutch. It warmed his heart to know he had someone else out there who was concerned for his best friend.
Starsky slid out of the car, taking the beer with him. He climbed the stairs to his apartment feeling like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Standing at the door, he pasted on a smile and prepared himself for his role as a happy man in love. Then he took a deep breath and used his key to open the door.
"Hutch. Susan," he called out, sitting the beer on the end table. But he was greeted with silence and he was alone. He let his eyes take in the condition of the room. No sign of struggle. Every item where it should be. No smell of blood.
Starsky eyed the door to his bedroom. It was closed now, but he had left it open. He imagined Hutch in there lying dead in a pool of blood, a bullet to his skull, his eyes open in accusation. He erased the image from his mind, drew his gun, and took the longest walk of his life. As he neared the door he heard a sound, slight, and whimpering. A woman's cries. Again the images returned, but he pushed them away and cocked his gun.
Starsky pushed his body against the wall next to his bedroom door. He looked to the opposite side almost expecting to see Hutch standing there poised and ready for action, but this time he was alone, so he steadied his nerves, crouched low, and crashed through the door. What he saw took his breath away. He had imagined a million possibilities, but not this. Susan was sitting up in bed, her hair mused, dark mascara running down her tear-stained face, sheet clutched to her chest. And the man lying next to her, tall, blond, nude, Hutch.
Starsky put the gun away, walked a million miles more; saw the steady rise and fall of his partner's chest. He was alive. The rest was easy to figure out. Somehow Susan had gotten Hutch in bed and there was only one way to do that: she had given him drugs. But when? He'd only been gone a half hour.
"What the hell is going on here?" he said, aware that his reactions could mean life or death for countless people in the future.
"I didn't know what to do," Susan said. "I'm sorry. So sorry. I didn't know what to do."
She clutched the covers closer to her chest, fresh tears falling down her face. "He said that I had to do it or he would take you away from me. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want to lose you."
Starsky walked over to the bed and saw the scratches on his partner's body. Hutch opened his eyes and looked into his, complete incomprehension on his face. And his eyes were bloodshot. Hutch rubbed his eyes then looked down at his body. He slid carefully out of the bed and picked up his clothes from the floor. He seemed unsteady on his feet as he dressed and he never took his eyes away from Susan.
Susan sat rocking back and forth, her eyes glazed as if in shock. The whole thing was surreal.
"I asked, what the hell is going on here?" Starsky made himself sound angry, but his only anger was directed at Susan.
Hutch had finished dressing, but he kept rubbing his eyes and he still hadn't said anything. And Susan was acting as if she were frightened every time Hutch looked her way. Anyone who saw her like that would think she was a rape victim.
"Starsk, it's not what it looks like," Hutch said.
"He told me that I had to sleep with him or he would break us up," Susan said quickly. "I told him I didn't want to do it, but he kept threatening me, so I said okay."
"You saying he raped you?"
Susan's whole body shook. "Yes…I mean no. I did it because I was afraid he would break us up. He didn't really force me."
"But he threatened you?"
"I guess so." More sobs followed.
"Hutch?" Starsky said, looking to the blond for an explanation.
Hutch rubbed his eyes. "I…I don't know what happened. She must have given me something." He looked over at Susan as if he expected her to provide the information, then turned back to Starsky.
Hutch seemed dazed, like he was still under the influence of the drug. Starsky didn't know what Susan had given him, but figured it had to be something to knock the blond out. Thankfully it hadn't been heroin. He didn't want to consider what that would have done to Hutch.
"Hutch tell me what happened," he said gently, but he made his face hard.
Hutch took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We were in the living room and she took off her clothes…"
"He's lying. He told me to get undressed."
Hutch continued on. "I told her I didn't want her. And she…she…put something in my eyes."
"He's lying. I didn't do anything. Why would I do that?"
"Tell me the rest, Hutch."
"She got angry. Attacked me. She gave me a shot of something. Then I woke up and you were here."
"He's lying. I'm way too small and weak to do anything to him. Look how big he is. And he has a gun." Susan started trembling, looking at Hutch as if she expected him to attack her. "He told me I sleep with him or else. I said okay and he told me to take off my clothes." Susan wiped her eyes. "We came in the bedroom and…and I changed my mind. That's when I scratched at him."
Starsky couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was obvious that Susan was lying, but only because he knew Hutch well enough to know he wouldn't do anything like that. But there wasn't a jury in the land that wouldn't believe her. Hutch was a decorated detective, had taken down the toughest criminals. Susan barely reached his shoulders, was soft and feminine looking. A damsel in distress. They were in big trouble.
Starsky kept his voice steady. "And then he raped you?"
"No. I went along with it. I did what he asked. And then you came home. I think he wanted you to see us together so he could hurt you." This was punctuated by more sobs.
Starsky was about to call the whole thing off. He would arrest Susan and take the chance they had enough. Then he could get Hutch to the doctor and make sure he was okay. But the instant he reached for his gun, he found his partner's hand on his arm and they locked eyes. It was only for an instant and Susan wouldn't have noticed, but Starsky heard the silent words spoken by Hutch. They had to go on. God help them, they had to go on.
Starsky let his mind wander back. Back to a time when he'd walked in on Hutch with Kira. He needed to remember the way he felt when he saw his partner walking out of Kira's bedroom. He needed to feel the rage again, the anger, the sadness of loss. He needed to feel these things to make it real. He only hoped his partner could forgive him for what he had to do next.
"Why d'ya do it, Hutch?"
"You don't understand. She gave me something. Susan drugged me."
"You expect me to believe that crap?" Starsky yelled. "Ya think I'm stupid?" He shook his head. "Yeah, I'm stupid alright. I'm stupid for trusting you again. I'm stupid for forgiving you after all that shit you pulled with Kira. Well, no more because David Starsky got some sense this time. He knows a snake when he sees one."
"You know me. I wouldn't do this."
Starsky jerked his arm away from Hutch. He balled his hands into fist and went for the kill. "Heard it before. What, you can't get your own girl? You gotta keep comin' after mine. Is that it?" With only the briefest warning he shoved the blond backwards. It wasn't a hard shove, but enough to be convincing. Hutch carried out the rest, by falling backwards, bracing himself slightly before hitting the floor. It was a trick they'd learned a few years ago when they'd pretended to be stunt men.
Starsky reached down and grabbed Hutch by the collar, literally pulling him up from the floor. He stared him in the eyes. "You're a sick bastard. You know that? Sick."
Hutch knocked his hand away, a momentary flicker crossing his features giving him the okay to play it for all it was worth. They were going to take this all the way.
Starsky pulled his arm back sharply and slammed his fist into the left side of the blond's head. And Hutch countered by snapping his head to the right, making it seem like he'd been hit hard. In actuality, Starsky's fist barely made contact, only enough to create the sound of someone being hit, but from Susan's angle the punch would seem hard and direct.
Hutch wiped his face as if there were blood there, then came at Starsky in a rush, knocking them into the next room. Both men fell to the floor, struggling against each other, throwing fake punches, shouting obscenities. Starsky noticed that Susan hadn't even bothered to come out of the bedroom. He whispered quickly, "You okay?"
"Fine. Let's keep going with this. Do what you have to do."
Starsky knocked the blond back into the bedroom, and Hutch landed on his back, gasping for breath like the air had been knocked out of him.
"Why, Hutch," he shouted, glaring down at him. "Ya hate me that much? How could you do this to me again? Ya get off on hurtin' me?"
"I didn't….I don't know what happened," he said pitifully "She gave me something."
Hutch came to his feet, watching Starsky warily as if expecting to be hit again. "I told you she gave me something. Now, you gonna take her word over mine?"
"Hutch, ya could have had a million girls. Why'dya do something like that to Susan? To my girl?"
"But I didn't do this. She…she." Hutch grabbed him by the arm. "You know me better than that. I wouldn't sleep with someone you love."
Starsky hated what he had to say next. "Why not, Hutch. You did it before."
Hutch stood stunned, dropping his hand, hurt in his sky-blue eyes. They were acting, but Starsky could see the words hit home. He started to apologize, saw the warning in Hutch's eyes and knew he had to go on. This had to be done for all the victims in Susan's past and all that would follow if they weren't convincing.
"So what's one more, huh? What's one more to the high and mighty Hutchinson?" Starsky said the words as if they were poison on his lips.
Hutch rubbed the line between his eyes, spoke quietly, "I didn't do it." And then he turned, head down, and walked out of the room. Seconds later Starsky heard the front door close. He turned around and looked at Susan. She had stopped crying and sat staring at him. He walked over, picked up her blouse from the floor and handed it to her.
"Here, put this on."
Susan took it and slide her arms into the sleeves. She was careful to cover herself the entire time. She was mimicking the mannerisms of a rape victim to perfection. "I'm sorry, David. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to lose you."
Starsky sat down and pulled her into his arms. She sobbed uncontrollably against his chest. Starsky could feel her hot tears seeping through his shirt.
"I've lost you," Susan sobbed. "Oh, my god, I've lost you."
Starsky had to remind himself that she was only acting. He wasn't holding a rape victim in his arms; he was holding a monster. She had framed Hutch and done it well. Anyone who saw her now would believe her. They would call for Hutch's blood, stand in the street and demand justice. They would hold her up as a symbol of the injustice against women. And if she were that good in court, she would walk. She wouldn't pay one day for her sins. He needed to make sure that didn't' happen.
"It's my fault, Susan. My fault for not seeing the truth about him. I put you in this position. But no more. Never again."
Susan pulled back. "How could you ever want to look at me again? I'm dirty. Not worthy of you."
He cupped her chin. "Don't say that. I love you. I can only hope you can forgive me for letting him in our lives." The words nearly stuck in his throat.
"Forgive you! How can you ask me that after what I did?"
"You did it because you thought it was the only way. You did it because you love me."
"But I know how much he means to you. I know you love him. And I don't want you to lose that. I don't want to come between you. Maybe there's…"
"You're all I need. And I'm gonna spend the rest of our lives proving it."
Susan kissed the inside of his hand. "Don't you know how much I love you? I would give my life for you. You're everything to me. Everything. I've changed my entire life for you."
A tear ran down her face and he wiped it away with his thumb.
"I love you, Susan." He kissed her tenderly, then held her to his chest.
"We'll always be together," she murmured. "Nothing can come between us now."
Starsky held her close, remembering how he had once cared for her, but now he despised her more than anything in the world.
--
Hutch managed to get home with Huggy's help. They'd taken his car in order to make it convincing to Susan should she look for his car outside Starsky's apartment. The barkeeper had then taken a cab home. He had wanted to stay and make sure Hutch was okay, but the blond knew it was essential that he be alone if he wanted to lure Susan in.
Hutch rubbed his eyes, still feeling the burning sensation of the spray she used on him. He'd thought it was acid at first, but now he realized it was most likely pepper spray or a similar derivative. She must have had the spray bottle hooked to her bra somehow and when she had reached behind her back, she'd actually slipped the tiny bottle into her hand. She was a dirty fighter. He was still feeling the pain in his groin. And he was groggy from the drug she'd given him.
He rubbed his arm, recalling the feel of the needle as she injected him with it. At first he'd been worried that the drug had been heroin, but it seemed that its only affect had been to knock him out. Then she had somehow deposited him in the bed without a stitch of clothes on. She'd even managed to straighten the living room out, then climb back in bed for another Oscar worthy performance. She was definitely bold, almost as if the whole thing had been a challenge. She knew Starsky was coming back any minute, yet still managed to do all that in under a half hour.
It was an ingenious trick, doing a striptease in front of him. He hadn't been turned on, but he would have been lying if he didn't admit that his reflexes had been slowed by her surprising performance. She was good, he'd give her that, which might account for her success as a paid killer. Susan's victims had all been relatively young men. Men more than capable of taking care of themselves. He wondered how many fell for the trick she had pulled tonight.
Hutch turned the lights off in the living room and went into the kitchen to prepare coffee. There were three cops watching his place, but Hutch knew he couldn't depend on them. He needed to be alert, so he made the coffee extra strong.
Once the coffee was ready, Hutch poured the steaming brew into a mug and added a little sugar. He pulled his chair to face the living room, then sat down and took a sip of the coffee. He practically gagged at the bitter taste. It was the worst he'd ever made, but he drank it quickly, mindful of the need to remain alert. Whatever she'd given him had made him lethargic, but the coffee would do the trick. He would be ready for her this time. But he was worried about Starsky. Still, he reasoned that the brunet was safe, at least as long as Susan believed that he was in love with her.
Hutch sighed and finished the rest of the coffee, sitting the cup in front of him. Then he checked his gun and sat it on the table next to the mug. Later he would take the gun and place it in his hand under the table, but for now he felt better with it in view.
After thirty minutes, Hutch started to wonder if she was coming. Maybe he and Starsky had underestimated her and now that Susan was certain that he was out of their lives, maybe she'd decided not to try and kill him. But he dismissed that idea quickly. She was coming; if not now, then later. But he was betting on now.
Hutch started to get tired and his body felt like a lead weight. At one point his eyes had actually closed, but a sudden sound brought them open. Now he stared into the other room. Better get the gun in my hand just in case, he decided. But when he reached for it he found that his hand had gone numb. He couldn't move the other hand either.
He tried again, willing his hand to pick up the gun, but again he met with failure. What's going on? Why can't I move my hands? He tried to stand, but found that he couldn't even do that. And he was having problems keeping his eyes open. Hutch remembered a story from medical school. There was a particular case about a man who'd gone in for a routine operation and had awakened on the table in the middle of surgery. The man had discovered to his horror that he couldn't move, nor could he speak, but he had felt every cut the doctor made. Hutch always remembered that story with horror. Now he was living it.
He tried for the gun again. No use. He remembered the sound that had awakened him and realized it had come from inside of his apartment, which meant he wasn't alone. Susan was there. Waiting. Any second she would make her appearance. The Medusa in all her glory.
Panic rose inside of him. And then he heard the first creak of wood and his blood ran cold. He heard a clicking sound, realized it was the sound of high-heels against the floor. Thought of how silly it was for her to wear them for a murder. But this was Susan. Expect the unexpected.
Click, click.
The footsteps coming closer.
Hutch commanded his feet to move and was rewarded with a slight tremor in his left foot. Still, he couldn't move, yet his eyes remained open, staring into the other room.
Click, click.
Click, click
The sound of death.
The living room was cast in shadow, but a glimmer of moonlight fell across one area of the room. It was there that he saw her. She was dressed entirely in black, the sweater and pants clinging to her curves. She wore a pair of red high heels with the outfit. Hutch knew their only purpose was to terrorize. He sat completely paralyzed as she crossed the room. As she neared, he could see the smile frozen like a corpse on her lips.
He kept his eyes on her as she moved quickly towards him, the click of her heels on the tile floor nearly driving him mad. And then she leaned down, her hot breath on his face. He looked into the golden depths of her eyes and recalled her earlier warning that hers would be the last face he would ever see.
"I've come for you, Kenneth. Welcome to hell." And then she laughed.
TBC