Thanks wuemsel and Sparkle for your encouragement to attempt to write this story, and a chance to bounce a few ideas off both of you. It's a challenging piece to write for a novice writer, but I'm giving it my best shot!

Chapter Five

"What is it?" Huggy asked, leaning over Hutch's shoulder.

"Blood."

The black man bit his lip. He didn't want to voice the next question on his mind.

"It's still pretty fresh," Hutch added. Still in a crouched position, he swept the beam further around the immediate area. Not far away he found a piece of pipe. There was more blood coating one end.

"Hey, Hutch. Over here," Huggy called to him.

He stood up and immediately stepped over to his side. A set of keys dangled from Huggy's fingers. "Found them over there."

Hutch took the keys, immediately recognizing them as belonging to his partner. The ring had a small metal charm on it with the Ford "Torino" logo on it, one Hutch had given to Starsky for a birthday present one year. A small thing, just a little something really, but he still remembered the excited boyish delight his partner had expressed upon receiving it.

"I knew you liked my car!"

"Don't get too excited. I was really trying to find one that read 'Stupid Red Tomato.'" Hutch had replied.

His partner's smile had simply widened though and again Hutch had been reminded just how easily it was to give joy to his partner in something so simple.

Looking down at the keys now, a sudden sick feeling overshadowed the joy of the memory.

"Are they Curly's?" Huggy asked.

"Yeah." He clutched them tightly in his hand.

He went back to the blood stained pipe.

What the hell you get into buddy?

Huggy read the worried look on the Big Blond. "Hey, man. It don't necessarily mean anything. I mean, maybe the blood's not his, Hutch. Could be someone else's and Curly's down at the precinct right now booking some pervert with a fat bloody nose."

Hutch shook his head doubtfully. That edgy needle prickly sensation ran up his spine, the one which was always homed in on his partner. "No, Hug. I think something happened to him."

Worry motivated him into action. He took off down the alley, fanning the flashlight into every corner and crevice calling out to his partner. Huggy followed, but the quick searched yielded no results. They back tracked, came out of the alley and searched in a similar fashion around the immediate area outside the Pits and the Torino with the same results. Hutch then went back to the Torino, picked up the radio mike and got a hold of Dispatch, just to make sure Starsky hadn't called in and hoping at the same time his gut instinct was wrong. But as he already suspected, Detective Starsky hadn't placed any calls through since they had logged off duty.

"What's going on Hutch?" the dispatcher asked.

"Detective Starsky is missing and he may be hurt. I want an APB Missing Officer put out right away on all channels." He then gave his current location and requested a forensics team to go over the scene. "Also get the Night Watch Officer to call the local hospitals and send a patrol car immediately out to Detective Starsky's home just in case I'm wrong and call me back as soon as possible."

"Roger, Zebra Three."

~S/H~

Something was poking him repeatedly, annoyingly in the side. He wanted to push it away, but the effort to move was too great, his mind trapped in a hazy fog he couldn't quite waken from.

Vaguely Starsky was aware of the voice above him, but it sounded distant, weird, like someone was talking to him through a tunnel.

"Well, what'a we got here, Levi?"

The pokes were now replaced by hands. He wanted to reach up to brush the annoyances away, but his arms felt like lead weights and belonging to someone else, unresponsive to his commands. Through his stupor he was only distantly aware of his watch being stripped off his wrist, his pockets emptied.

"Well, well, well, lookee here. Found me a real po-lice man. What you doing here, piggy?"

He heard a little laugh and winced. He didn't like it, the sound of laughter in the dark.

"Got yourself into a bit of trouble, huh?"

Something blunt poked him in the side of the head and he groaned involuntarily.

"Sure don't look too good if ya ask me."

Another pause.

"But I sure do like that jacket though. Always wanted me a leather jacket like this. Don't suppose you'd let me try it on?" Another little chuckle followed his silence. "Well, that's mighty nice of you, Mr. Po-lice man."

He felt the jacket being tugged off him and the sudden coolness of the air from being robbed of its warmth made him shiver.

"Hey, lookee here. Fits me perfect. Thanks!"

His cheek was patted.

"Now don't you worry none, little piggy. I'll take good care of this for you."

The voice chuckled and then stopped abruptly. The figure moved suddenly away as if startled. Still in a hazy disoriented fog, Starsky thought he heard voices approaching. He tried to roll on his side, to crawl away, hide, but his body remained unresponsive.

~S/H~

The two figures, both dressed in jeans, t-shirts and denim jackets walked briskly along a long chain link fence stealing glances over the back of their shoulders.

"Man, you're crazy you know that! We were only supposed to rough him up, not…"

A black and white unit rounded the corner and headed their way.

"Shut up!"

The pair quickly darted across the street and ducked into a stoop, pressing deep into the shadows, a glint of steal suddenly appearing. Only when the police cruiser passed and rounded the next corner out of sight did they emerge. With a twisted smile, the sandy brown haired youth retracted the long switch blade knife, that still contained a ring of blood around the base, and slipped it into his pocket.

His dark haired companion regarded the pleasured look grimly as the two figures took off, quickly disappearing into the night.

~S/H~

Once the forensics team arrived Hutch quickly gave them directions on what he wanted done and they went about carefully dusting then bagging the pipe and collecting blood samples. They promised to have the evidence processed as quickly as possible.

Hutch nodded and went back to the Pits where Huggy had returned earlier and Anita was still waiting. Huggy had already filled her in.

Hutch turned to the black man. "I need your help Huggy."

"You gotta ask?" he replied, already having retrieved another flashlight.

Unfortunately both knew there were a lot of run-down buildings, warehouses, tenement apartments and back alleys in the immediate area to search.

Anita said she'd stay until they got back. "Just in case," she told Hutch.

He and Huggy left the Pits via the back alley entrance where Hutch had parked the Ford when he'd arrived. As soon as he climbed in, he heard the radio dispatch operator trying to reach him.

"Zebra-Three. Hutchinson here."

"Detective Starsky was not at home, but we just got a call Hutch. Six blocks from your current location a body was just found."

Color drained from his face.

"Is it Detective Starsky?"

"They don't know. There is no ID on him. Just a general description, Caucasian male, six feet, dark brown hair, 25-40, wearing jeans."

"Where?"

The dispatch operator gave the location.

Hutch slammed the door on the Ford and turned on the ignition as Huggy quickly came around the other side and got in.

He threw the car in reverse and pressed on the gas. The Ford lurched backwards but a few seconds later he heard a thunk followed by a loud pop and then the car shuddered. He got out and to his dismay found the left back tire completely flat, a twisted piece of metal impeded in the rubber.

He kicked the tire, cursing loudly, then for added measure kicked the door shut in blind frustration.

Huggy was at his side immediately when it looked like his next move was going to put a fist right through the side glass. "Hey, Amigo. Take it easy."

"Hug."

"I know, but we don't know for sure it's him, okay?"

"I know." He put his hands to his head, then raked his figures through his hair and looked down at the tire. It was going to take at least fifteen minutes to change it, unless…He got no further in thought before he was racing down the alley leaving a startled Huggy trying to catch up.

Hutch was already flinging the Torino's door open by the time Huggy caught up with him.

It felt initially strange to be behind the wheel of the muscle car again. Seldom, if ever, did Starsky allow him to drive it after the amount of ribbing Hutch gave over his "baby."

It took Hutch a few nervous minutes to get used to handling the powerful engine as he sent the car into a wide skid with the first turn. Huggy gripped the door handle.

"Uh, sorry."

"Just get us there in one piece, man."

They arrived at the location a few minutes later. It was a neighborhood park, only a few blocks large, surrounded on two sides by a chain link fence. Hutch brought the Torino to a screeching halt next to a black and white unit parked at the entrance.

A uniformed officer approached and was about to ask the casually dressed man to stay back until Hutch flashed his badge.

"Sorry Sergeant," the uniform quickly apologized. He then motioned to Hutch, "This way."

A second uniformed officer looked at Huggy's colorfully dressed attire.

"I'm with him," the black man merely said before hurrying to catch up to Hutch.

Hutch followed the officer down a path passed a set of playground equipment to the back of a small building illuminated by a single light in the corner and then down a short flight of steps.

There he was introduced to another pair of plainclothes detectives out of the 55th Precinct, apparently already assigned to the case. The senior detective, a man in his late forties, wearing a wrinkled brown suit, introduced himself as Detective Frank Marcello and his partner, a lean, clean cut blond in his late twenties as Detective Samuel Johansen. Hutch was informed they had arrived on the scene just a few minutes earlier.

The patrolman who'd first responded to call explained. "A busboy found him when he was taking a short cut through the park on his way home from work. The victim was beaten pretty badly, but probably died from a knife wound to the chest. Looks like he bled out. We heard the APB put out on your partner, Detective Hutchinson, shortly before this one was called in. Unfortunately there's no ID on him, but the general description…" the patrolman let the rest fade.

Hutch approached the scene and saw that the body had already been covered with a crime blanket and more uniforms were busy taping off the area.

He squatted down at the head, his stomach in knots as Huggy came up behind him. He hesitated briefly as he took a deep breath, stealing himself for what he might find.

Please, babe. Don't be under there.

He lifted the blanket.

His heart stopped as he stared.

The long exhale which followed was full of relief. "It's not him."

~S/H~

After the two other detectives viewed the body, Marcello took Hutch aside. "I'm sorry to hear about your missing partner, Sergeant Starsky, isn't it?"

Hutch nodded.

"You two are out of Ninth, Captain Dobey's command?" Hutch nodded again. "Heard good things about you two. You guys have quite an impressive track record. So were the two of you down here on an undercover case or something when your partner disappeared?"

Hutch shook his head. "No, actually we were both off duty. We were having dinner at a bar that belongs to a friend of ours. I left earlier and got a call later from my friend after he noticed my partner's car still parked in the neighborhood after hours." Hutch then explained about his partner's keys and the blood found in the alley and his concerns that his partner was hurt.

"It's a pretty dangerous area around here at night," Marcello agreed with his concern. "Matter of fact, this is our second homicide call already for the night."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, just finished with a one over at the Stardust Hotel, a hooker was bludgeoned to death."

"Any idea who did it?"

He shrugged. "In this neighborhood? Could be a john or maybe even her pimp, who knows." The older man didn't seem to show much sympathy. "Look, I'm sorry about your partner, know the worry has got to be pretty rough. My partner and I are going to be around here for a while dealing with this stiff, but we'll definitely keep our eyes and ears opened."

Hutch extended his hand. "Thanks."

"Hey, don't mention it. We gotta all stick together down here."

~S/H~

Johansen joined Marcello a few moments later as he stood watching the tall blond detective walk away and rejoin his friend and then disappear back down the path.

Johansen had only been partnered with the experience detective for the last eight months, having transferred to the 55th Precinct once he'd gotten his rank, and though he respected the senior detective greatly, he still found it hard to read the man sometimes. But he was still eager to learn from him.

"You seem deep in thought."

Marcello grunted.

"Kinda odd, don't you think?" Johansen pressed.

"What's odd?"

"Two murders and a missing undercover cop all in the same area within a couple of hours."

"It's a big city and a lousy part of town," Marcello replied.

"I don't know. Hutchinson looks pretty worried."

Marcello shrugged, placing his hands loosely in the front pockets of his slacks. "Man's missing his partner. I can certainly understand his worry."

"I heard a lot about Hutchinson and Starsky. Their supposed to be tight, real tight."

"Yeah, well, some partners are like that."

Johansen frowned, looking at his own partner who continued to stare down the empty path, his face masked "So, what are you thinking then?"

Marcella's gaze slid over to the younger man. With a tired, almost impatient sigh, he replied, "I'm thinking we've got a lot of work to do. And I thinking I'm not going to get to bed anytime soon." With that, the seasoned detective turned and walked back up to the crime scene leaving Johansen behind to follow in his wake.

~S/H~

Hutch pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the familiar pressure of a stress induced headache starting to work its way up and through both eyes sockets and across his forehead as he and Huggy returned to the Torino.

Though his relief had been profound that the body had not turned out to be that of his partner, the fact that Starsky was still missing and probably hurt, kept Hutch's anxiety level up.

After reporting back into dispatch his findings, Hutch again checked if anything else had been reported in, especially from the local hospitals. Starsky, nor anyone fitting his description, had been bought into Memorial. County General also came up zilch. They were still checking around to the other smaller hospitals and acute emergency clinics in the area.

Hutch then put a call into Dobey. Once he got through the verbal tirade about being woken up in the middle of the night enough to explain his abrupt call, the other end of the line became quiet.

"Tell me what you've got."

Hutch updated his captain.

"All right Hutch. I want you to keep me posted."

Hutch got out of the Torino then leaned against its hood as he tried to think. "He could be anywhere in the area, Huggy. We need to check around at all the after hour places, see if anyone's seen him."

"Well there's a couple of places the brothers hang around I can check out, 'ceptin' they ain't gonna talk to the likes of you."

"They will if they know something about Starsky!"

"Wow, Blondie, that's just what I'm talkin' about. You can't approach these brothers all Rambo cop, man. It requires a finer touch, dig?"

He understood what Huggy was saying. The black man had a certain finesse when it came to charming information out of the streets, but it was also a talent he preferred to keep exclusively to himself.

"Look, just drop me off where I tell you and give me a little time to work my magic and I'll meet you back at the Pits later."

"All right."

They got back into the Torino and Hutch let Huggy out of the car a few minutes later. Before he'd reached the end of the block, the black man had already disappeared from sight.

Now alone Hutch cruised the streets and back alleys is a circular grid like fashion from the Pits, still holding onto the major assumption of course that his partner was still in the immediate area and not perhaps taken voluntarily or involuntary somewhere else.

He also targeted a few after hour places he knew about as well, ones the street wise New York born but Bay City raised teen had introduced him to in the early years of their partnership as detectives after Hutch had transferred out of "Iron" Mike's division and into Metro's Ninth.

In those early years, Starsky had eagerly shown Hutch the ropes and just what was needed to work the inner city streets until the Minnesota, upper-class bred Nordic blond was as comfortable cruising the run down back alleys in his battered Ford as any inhabitant of the area.

It had been one of the things Hutch had always valued in Starsky, his ability and complete willingness to share what could not be learned from books, only street savvy experience without prejudice or conceit. From the start of their friendship at the Academy and through their uniformed patrol years at different precincts, Starsky had always been this way, willing to give, but most especially after they had become partners.

Reflecting back, Hutch had always somewhat snobbishly prided himself on his intelligence, his academic abilities and even his physical fitness, but had soon learned the creative more gifted talents had always lain with his energetic, often boyishly enthusiastic and fiercely protective partner.

Besides Starsky's chameleon-like ability to alter his personality, body language, and facial expression to completely match whatever undercover "role" he was playing as easily as if he'd been born into it, his partner had a natural instinct for finding those things that were just out of place, or the ability to tell when they'd been "had" by the vibe he felt in the air. This combined with hard-headed ass grit beneath the boyish, joking exterior, made his partner a formidable and often underestimated opponent.

But what Hutch valued the most was the one thing Starsky had given him that had allowed Hutch to see what he kept the most closely guarded behind the tough street cop persona. Never before, or since, had Hutch known anyone who had placed their trust so completely in him. But Starsky did. He trusted Hutch in mind, body and soul. And with that trust Hutch saw the vulnerable side of him, the child who still sought physical comfort when hurt, and the man whose compassion and capacity to love was only matched by the depth of grief in its loss.

It was all these traits that bonded Hutch to his partner as fiercely and as loyally as Starsky to him. And right now, it was that bond that drove Hutch to do whatever was necessary to find his best friend.

TBC...