CHAPTER 22

Ronnie hung up the phone, resting his forehead on the receiver. Before he had a chance to turn around, his head was jerked back, his hair gripped by a strong hand. He already knew it was Diaz.

"Well done, little man." Diaz turned him around, grinning with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, the end glowed, ash floating to the ground.

Ronnie's stomach flopped into his mouth. He swallowed down the fear as he tried to wiggle away from Diaz. But he knew it was useless to struggle. It was so early that there were very few people around. Those that were gave no notice to the two boys. Hookers, early morning shop owners and delivery trucks went about their business. They had no time for two boys rough-housing.

Diaz pushed the boy ahead, keeping a tight grip around his upper arm.

"I've been watching ya know. You stopped working at that car dump… why?" They stopped abruptly in front of an old, dented pick-up truck. The paint had faded from black to a sun- bleached, rusted gray. Diaz pushed the boy into the driver's side ahead of him, shoving him over to the passenger side. After a few minutes, once the truck started, Diaz looked over at the boy, seemingly ready to continue their friendly conversation.

'Got tired of it." That was a lie. Ronnie had enjoyed the work with the old cars. Merle had been kind to him but he knew he couldn't continue there. He'd made enough money to leave, so he just stopped going. He didn't think he owed the strange old man an explanation.

"You stick with me and I'll hook you up with lots of money. You won't have to live in no stinky garage." Diaz turned to watch the expression on the teen's face. It was a mixture of anger and surprise. The thought of Diaz knowing so much about him, made him rethink his promise to Starsky. Maybe he should take him up on the offer of help.

As they got closer to the playground, Diaz seemed to get more excited. He kept up a constant stream of conversation. They arrived at the deserted playground and reversing the process, the Latino dragged the boy out of the truck and shoved him ahead to the swings.

Diaz didn't really care if Ronnie responded to his previous statement or not. He responded, more to himself than to the young boy.

"Yeah, I like that idea. You'd be my little brother, part of the gang. No one would mess with you if you're with me." By this time the young teen was held in a vice like grip and knew better than to struggle but he did try to loosen the grip across his neck. That just caused Diaz to laugh and slap the young boy's head. To Diaz it was just a gesture of affection; to Ronnie it hurt.

They got to the playground and stopped by the swings. In an effort to calm himself, Ronnie sat on a swing and began to push himself back and forth. Diaz watched for a minute then checked the area, scanning ahead of him to pick a good, secluded spot for what he had in mind.

As Ronnie pumped his legs, he decided to just ask Diaz for his lighter.

"Hey, why don't ya just give me my lighter and I'll get out of your way. You sure don't need me hanging around."

Diaz turned toward the swing, grabbed it by the chains and unexpectedly stopped Ronnie in mid-swing. It shook him physically and his fear intensified at the hatred he saw in the other boy's eyes.

"I'll give ya your damn lighter when I'm ready." Diaz pushed Ronnie backwards, sending the startled teen sliding off the swing and landing hard on his back. He was dazed, stunned at the violent reaction. He stayed where he was, panic freezing his bones.

For no apparent reason, he punched the younger teen in the face. Blood seeped from the boy's nose. He tried to wipe it away but Diaz stood over him now and suddenly kicked him in the ribs, forcing the whimpering youth on his side. He curled up and closed his eyes. His body jerked as Diaz forced him up and from somewhere a knife bit into his neck.

"Please don't hurt me. I won't tell anyone. Just let me go." Ronnie pleaded. He tried to reach his nose to wipe at the blood sliding from his nose, but his arms were pinned behind him. The knife was positioned at the neck, the muscular arm tight around his head and upper body.

They both heard tires squealing in the gravel.

"C'mon, we're gonna give our cop friend a surprise party." Diaz pulled Ronnie with him as he maneuvered them both behind an old refreshment building. There, Diaz waited, listening and planning his next move. Ronnie's heart thudded against his chest, sweat mixed with the blood from his nose as he closed his eyes. He desperately wanted to warn Starsky but his throat had gone dry and he knew he couldn't do anything to stop this.

Starsky pulled into the parking lot, spotting the swings but not Ronnie. He got out of the Torino and leaned against it as he waited. The sky was just beginning to brighten into day. He yawned; wishing he'd slept in bed instead of falling asleep on the couch. He stretched his back and moved toward the swings. Thinking about the last time he and Hutch had been in this very spot, he rubbed his head where the stitches were now just a faded reminder.

"Ronnie? Hey, wanna go for breakfast?" Starsky called out, hoping that the teen was just being cautious. Remembering that the boy didn't trust Hutch, he decided to confirm that he was alone.

"It's just me, kid. Just like I promised." He heard a muffled cry and reached for his gun. Ronnie appeared, held fast by an older boy with a wild look in his eyes and a knife pointed at his hostage's throat.

Vaguely, Starsky recognized the older boy as a member of the gang fight that had gone on in this very playground. He didn't know what role Ronnie played in this but he had to believe that he was just an innocent victim; wrong place, wrong time set up.

The terrified look in Ronnie's eyes confirmed that he was held against his will and not part of such violence. The kid was too naïve to understand what was going on around him. Somehow, this older boy had picked the young teen and manufactured some excuse to use him to get to the detective.

Starsky wished Hutch was at his side. But because of his own pride, he'd foolishly turned his back on his best friend. What kind of example was he to this young boy? How could the kid learn to trust when his mentor had issues with that same thing?

But now wasn't the time for self reflection. It was up to him to get them both out of a tough situation. He had to rely on his instincts and agility to help them both.