CHAPTER 27

They didn't find any other evidence of Starsky or Diaz at the playground. Hutch doggedly searched for himself the abandoned school and all out buildings surrounding it. But he didn't really expect to find anything.

He stood in the center of the vacant lot, staring at Starsky's car, wishing the vehicle could tell him what had happened in its presence. A lot of time had passed since Starsky was last seen with no idea as to where he was now.

Ronnie had gone to wait in Hutch's car. The boy was tired and Hutch knew, he would also be hungry. They should go, but the blond wouldn't rest until Starsky was found. He pushed aside his guilt hoping that focusing on Ronnie would ease his mind at least temporarily.

Getting back into the LTD, he looked over at his passenger. Ronnie's head bobbed as he fought against the desire to sleep.

"You hungry?" At the question, Ronnie's head snapped up as he stared at Hutch. They both heard the boy's stomach growl with the answer.

"I guess so." Hutch smiled as he put the car in gear and headed back toward his home.

"What are you hungry for?" Thinking the boy would say pizza or hamburgers, he was surprised by Ronnie's familiar answer.

"I like burritos. I always wanted to try The Burrito Shack over on Sandune Lane." He sat up straighter in his seat, rubbing his eyes.

"That's Starsky's favorite place. We can go there if you want." Amused at the likeness of these two people, he wondered that maybe the boy wasn't that different from the man he'd known for so many years. That knot of concern twisted tighter, making him more anxious to know where his friend was.

Later, they sat in a booth, Ronnie devouring everything he could get his hands on. He'd already had a burrito with onions no less. Then he'd eaten two tacos, the rice from his own plate then he'd polished off the remains of Hutch's mostly uneaten meal. Obviously, the kid hadn't eaten regularly or recently by the way he'd kept up a steady pace of getting the food into his mouth. Looking closer, Hutch knew the boy also needed a bath and his clothes could stand to be washed but that could come later. He let the boy enjoy the second glass of milk before finally paying the bill and headed for home.

They were both silent as Hutch drove them home. Now having a full stomach for the first time in months, Ronnie was sleepy and satisfied. Hutch couldn't settle his mind enough and knew that this would be a long, lonely night.

Ronnie paced the open living space, flicking at the leaves of a plant, checking out the bathroom. Finally he settled on the couch and picked up Hutch's guitar.

Easily, he held the instrument and began getting the feel of the strings, playing a soft tune.

"Who taught you to play?" Hutch stopped in front of the couch, listening to the sleepy melody.

"My brother Dylan. He played in a band. When he left for Viet Nam, he told me I could keep his guitar. He was always so cool about stuff. I really miss him." Ronnie put the instrument down, picked up a pillow and folded himself over it. He held the small pillow against his belly as if to keep his stomach from leaking out. Hutch understood that feeling. Right now, he was so nervous and worried, his gut burned with the tension.

Hutch didn't have the words to comfort the young boy. He didn't even know what to think about his own friend so he busied himself getting towels for his guest and sheets and a pillow for himself. He wanted Ronnie to be comfortable and feel wanted so the boy would sleep in his bed and he'd sleep on the couch. That way, he'd be close to the phone if Dobey called with news or… maybe Starsky would call.

Suddenly he was exhausted. His body ached, shoulders and neck tense. He left to get a shower. He let the warm water slide over his back as he leaned into the spray. Where was Starsky? If he were able, Hutch was sure that his friend would try to contact him, but since he hadn't did that mean he was dead? He smacked the wall of the shower in frustration. When the water ran cold, he shut it off. He wrapped his thick robe around himself and went back to the living room.

Ronnie stretched out on the couch, a blanket thrown over his lower body, sleeping soundly. The detective didn't have the heart to disturb him so Hutch just got another blanket from the closet and sank into a comfortable chair.

He propped his feet up on the coffee table and spread the blanket across his body. He let his head fall back against the chair and closed his eyes as he went over the details that he knew about Starsky's fight with Diaz. His friend would not have given up his gun easily unless it was necessary in order to save Ronnie. Even with no gun, Starsky still would have been able to defend himself against Diaz.

If he had only taken Starsky's interest in Ronnie seriously, then his friend would never have left the precinct angry. What ever the outcome, Hutch had a lot to apologize for. He found himself liking the boy and feeling comfortable with him. Knowing that his partner saw something in the boy worthwhile, should have been enough for him. He should have respected those instincts. But Hutch had needed proof. He'd had a hard time seeing anything other than malice in the boy's actions the day of the gang fight. Holding the bloody board over Starsky's head was evidence enough at the time to prove the young boy was dangerous. But he hadn't analyzed the whole picture. No wonder Starsky had been so angry with him. Hutch deserved that. Because he had been so selfish and unkind, Starsky now was alone and in danger.

Even though he fought sleep, his body gave in to exhaustion but his mind wouldn't rest. Images of death and pain pursued him. In those dreams, Starsky reached out a bloody hand but the blond was unable to hear him or reach his friend.

He struggled against the torturous dreams. Mental images flashed constantly. He was helpless against them until his body tensed and finally he awoke.