CHAPTER TWO

Brad Myers looked up from the file he was reviewing as the door to the office opened and Hutch came into the room. He sighed heavily. Hutch seldom bothered coming to the office anymore, usually checking in periodically by phone. The big blond's appearance had deteriorated drastically since the last time Brad had seen his employer. His clothes were wrinkled and there was a stain on the front of his blue shirt. His hair was badly in need of a trim and his beard covered his gaunt cheeks. His ice blue eyes were dull and lifeless, the eyes of a man who had given up on life a long time ago.

Brad had met Hutch years ago, when he was still considered a legend in the BCPD. As a young patrolman, Brad had been in awe of the legendary figure of Ken Hutchinson, one half of the most famous team of detectives the BCPD had ever known. He knew about the shooting that had claimed the life of Hutch's partner and left him a broken man with a drinking problem. The man's lingering grief was obvious to everyone around him.

Brad had watched as Hutch slowly went downhill, finally being dismissed from the force. By that time, Brad was disillusioned with the system and was more than willing to take a job with Hutch's agency when he heard that the big blond was looking for recruits. It was a career decision he had never regretted. He enjoyed the challenges of the job and, over the past two years, he had taken on most of the day to day running of the office. His former police partner, Shane Spencer, was still his partner working with him on the investigations. Most of their cases involved young runaways that their frantic families had hired them to locate. Both Shane and Brad got a great deal of satisfaction reuniting the runaways with their worried families.

"Hey, Hutch." Brad greeted the older man with a warm smile. Despite Hutch's problems, Brad still liked and admired the man. He had heard the stories of the unique bond that existed between Starsky and Hutch, stories about the almost psychic connection that they had shared. They had been closer then brothers, closer even than lovers, and Starsky's death had totally shattered Hutch.

"Hey, Brad." Hutch said, his voice sounding hoarse and ragged. His hands trembled noticeably as he helped himself to a cup of coffee from the pot sitting behind Brad's desk. "I just came from the bank. Looks like business has been good lately."

"Can't complain." Brad said with a grin. "The last two cases weren't that hard. We found one girl at an aunt's house in L.A. and the other kid was hanging out at a shelter in San Francesco. They were both more than ready to go back home."

"Working on anything new?" Hutch asked as he eased himself into a comfortable chair facing Brad. He took a cautious sip of his coffee and then set the cup aside with a grimace. "That crap tastes worse than the coffee in the squad room did." He muttered.

"Yeah, well, Alice hasn't been in yet today so Shane made it." Brad said with a chuckle. Alice was a former hooker that Hutch had known for years. On the streets she had been known as Sweet Alice, a nickname that fit her southern charm perfectly. When Hutch started the agency, he had hired Alice to work for him part time to get her off the streets. She had even gone back to school and taken some secretarial classes, becoming a real asset to the agency.

Brad shuffled through some papers lying on the desk in front of him and said, "This just came in this morning. This guy is looking for his sister who came to LA about three years ago and then just disappeared. The last time anyone heard from her, she was supposed to be starting a job as a model. Turns out the agency was a front for a prostitution ring that Vice broke up about a year ago. Nobody will admit to knowing the woman or hiring her. It's a cold trail but we'll give it our best shot." He paused and then continued, "And we're still looking for a missing sixteen year old that we managed to trace to Phoenix, Arizona."

Hutch nodded absently and shoved himself to his feet. Sometimes, he missed police work, being in the middle of the action and looking for the pieces of the puzzle, but he had complete faith in Brad and Shane. He couldn't have found two better men to handle the operation of the agency for him. In a lot of ways, they reminded him of himself and Starsky during their glory days on the force.

Too restless to sit still for long, Hutch wandered over to a bulletin board where pictures were posted of some of the runaways they were looking for. So many young faces and Hutch knew from bitter experience that some of them would never be found. Their families would be left to forever wonder what had happened to their missing children. Everyday, hundreds of runaways flocked to cities like LA, drawn by the glitter and the glammer, the empty promise of fame. Too many of them would end up in the hands of pimps who would use them and abuse them, then throw them away like so much garbage when they had outlived their usefulness or became too strung out on drugs to bring in enough money to support their habit. It was a vicious, never ending cycle.

In some small way, by specializing in finding missing persons, Hutch could still feel like his agency was making a difference and giving some of those missing children a second chance.

One picture in particular caught his eye. He was drawn to it by the vivid blue of the girl's eyes and he was immediately reminded of another set of vivid blue eyes that were forever branded in his heart. Starsky's eyes had been the true mirror to his soul, reflecting his moods. They could turn to blue flame when he was angry or a deep midnight blue when he was passionate about something. They could be mischievous, playful, or mysterious, just another facet of his complex personality. God, he missed him and he would until the day he died!

Hutch abruptly turned away from the bulletin board but not before Brad caught the shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. Brad knew that sometimes the littlest things reminded Hutch of his partner and threw him into a deep depression, sending him to the nearest bar for a little liquid relief. Brad had seen pictures of Starsky and Hutch in their younger days and barely recognized the blond in the picture as the same blond he had come to know over the years. The only thing that remained the same was the ice blue eyes and the fair Nordic complexion. The hair was the same shade of blond but it was longer now and starting to thin badly.

Brad had quickly discovered that the subject of his former partner was strictly off limits with Hutch. His memories of Starsky were precious and carefully guarded, sealed away forever in his heart. There were only a few old friends who could bring up the brunet's name in Hutch's presence without risking a few choice words from the big blond.

"Who's going to Arizona to check out the sixteen year old?" Hutch asked

"I am." Brad told him "I always wanted to spend some time in the desert this time of year."

"Take plenty of water," Hutch said with a thin smile. "It sucks." With those parting words, he left the office.

Hutch drove thought the mid-day traffic to a bar and grill called The Pits. It was owned and operated by an old friend named Huggy Bear. Hutch and Huggy went back over twenty years. He had been one of Starsky and Hutch's best informants and good friend to them both. Huggy had actually gone to high school with Starsky and befriended the brunet when he moved to Bay City to live with his aunt and uncle. Starsky had been the one to introduce him to Hutch after they met at the police academy.

The bar hadn't changed much over the years. It still had a reputation for good food, low prices, and Huggy was diligent in keeping out the trouble makers. Huggy was busy working behind the bar when Hutch sauntered through the front door. Huggy was a tall, thin black man with a quick smile and cocky attitude. His taste in clothes had always been flamboyant and today was no exception. He was dressed in pair of neon green pants, a red silk shirt and a bright yellow vest.

Hutch settled onto a stool at the end of the bar with a heavy sigh. This place held a lot of memories, both good and bad. He had spent a lot of time here over the years with Starsky, shooting pool, drinking and picking up women. Hutch seldom stopped by anymore, seeing Starsky's ghost everywhere he turned whenever he did.

Huggy grinned happily as he sat a cold draft beer on the bar in front of Hutch. "Hey, Blondie," he said "Did you lose your razor or are you trying to start a new trend?"

"Good to see you too, Hug." Hutch replied "Even if you do look like a traffic light."

"How about a burger and fries to go with that beer?" Huggy suggested "On the house for an old friend." His eyes swept over Hutch's lean frame. It had been several months since he had seen his old friend and Hutch's weight loss was painfully noticeable.

"No, thanks." Hutch said "I'm not hungry." The truth was food held little interest to him these days. He got most of his nutrition from the empty calories in the booze. When he did eat, it was generally the junk food that Starsky had favored. The health shakes and wholesome foods Hutch used to eat where a thing of the past.

Huggy sighed, disappointed when Hutch refused his offer of free food. He worried about Hutch as he was forced to sit back and watch his slow decline after Starsky's murder. He had always known that if anything ever happened to one of them, the other one would fall apart. A man can't function with only half a heart. But, Huggy had been around long enough to know that nobody could help Hutch unless he wanted to be helped. The man was intent on committing suicide the hard way and nobody could do anything about it.

Hutch picked up his beer and relocated to an empty booth near the back of the room. Huggy returned to his other duties while keeping a close eye on his old friend. It was the least he could do. He owed it to Hutch and to Starsky's memory to watch out for the big blond as best he could.