I am so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. Remind me not to start posting a story before I've finished writing it next time! I've been trying to edit this chapter while at the same time continuing with the story about two chapters ahead, plus real life intruding. Enough excuses...I hope you enjoy it and apologies again.

Chapter 4

Rosie Dobey didn't know what to do. Or rather she knew what to do but wasn't sure how. Her mommy and daddy had told her never to go with strangers. But now a stranger had hurt Uncle Ken and taken her away. She knew she had to get away but he kept watching her.

He had shoved her into his car and driven across town. When he stopped at a red light she tried to get out and run away, but the door was locked and before she could open it, the light turned green.

Now she was alone with the stranger in a dingy little room above a shop. She sat in a chair, knees drawn tight to her chest as she watched the man with wide brown eyes.

"You want something to eat, Emily?" he asked. "I got your favourite."

"I'm not Emily," she said in a wobbly voice. "I'm Rosie. And I want my mommy."

"Emily is your real name. Don't you remember?"

Rosie's eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembled. "I'm not Emily."

"Yes, you are. I'm Milton Crosby and you're my little sister, Emily."

"I'm not!" Rosie began to wail. "I'm Rosie Dobey and I want my mommy!"

Milton crossed the room in four big strides. Rosie thought he was going to hit her, his face was so angry. She took a huge breath to try to stop herself crying and watched him fearfully.

Milton shuddered to a halt, breathing heavily. "I'm sorry, Emily," he whispered. "Don't be scared. I got your favourite chips and soda."

Rosie uncurled a little so she could see. The man smiled at her and pointed to the table. "See?"

Rosie nodded shyly. "Mommy doesn't let me have those 'less I've been 'specially good."

"Well we won't tell her then. It'll be our little secret."

Rosie uncurled a little more. "Have you got cookies?"

"No, I ain't got cookies! You think I'm made of money?"

Rosie shrank back at the anger in his voice. "Sorry," she squeaked, tears starting to well up again. "I'm sorry."

Milton grunted and grasped Rosie's arm. She began to struggle but he scooped her up and dumped her on the chair at the table.

Her breath whooshed out of her at the rough treatment. She rubbed her arm and tears rolled silently down her face as she watched him pacing the room. This man was really scary and she hoped Uncle Ken and Uncle Dave would come and rescue her soon. Then she remembered seeing her Uncle Ken falling down hurt and she cried all the more.

"For God's sake, stop that noise! STOP IT! NOW!"

Milton thrust his face into Rosie's and she felt his spit on her cheek. He spun away and resumed his pacing. After three or four circuits Milton threw himself into a chair.

Rosie watched him apprehensively but gradually relaxed as it became clear the man was settled for now. She reached for the can of soda. The tab was really hard but she didn't dare ask the man to help her. So she put it back and picked up the potato chips instead. They didn't taste very nice but she was hungry so she ate them quickly.

Having finished, she didn't dare move. She sat as still and as quiet as she had ever sat before and warily watched the man.

He became aware of her scrutiny. "Finished?" he asked in a quieter voice. Rosie nodded jerkily. "Wanna watch TV?"

"Um...mommy doesn't..."

"Do. You. Want. To. Watch. TV?"

"Yes please," she whispered sliding down from the table and moving to the chair she had occupied before.

"We're gonna have so much fun, Emily. It'll be just like it used to be."

Unsure how to respond and not wanting to anger him again, Rosie said nothing.

Milton flicked through the channels until he found a cartoon.

"Right, Emily. I gotta go to work for a bit. I'm just downstairs so if you want me, bang on the floor and I'll be right up. Won't be long."

Giving her a rough hug he left the room, carefully locking the door behind him. Rosie let out a quivery breath.

When it became clear that he had really left, she clambered to her feet and tiptoed around the small apartment hoping to find a way out. However the windows were small and grimy and Rosie knew she couldn't get out that way or attract anyone's attention.

She found and used the bathroom and peeped into the dark bedroom. Then she slumped back into the chair in front of the television, tears once again sliding down her face.

She wanted her mommy and daddy, and her big brother, Cal. She wanted Uncle Dave and Uncle Ken and worried about how badly Uncle Ken was hurt.

Eventually she fell asleep, curled up in the chair, and that was how Milton found her when he came up from the shop.

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When Starsky arrived at the hospital, he was pleased to see staff who knew him and Hutch from previous visits. He quickly filled in the necessary forms and just as he was finishing, a nurse arrived to take him through to the Emergency Room.

He found Hutch propped up on a bed, minus his shirt and with a large, white dressing showing starkly against his tanned skin.

"Dr Franklin," Starsky said, shaking the hand of the tall, bespectacled man who had turned from his inspection of the bags of blood and clear liquid which were dripping steadily into the intravenous lines.

"Detective Starsky. We must stop meeting like this," he smiled.

Starsky returned the smile then turned to Hutch. "You okay?"

Hutch gave a curt nod and Starsky refrained from asking the questions he wanted to. Turning back to the doctor he asked "What's the verdict, doc?"

"Detective Hutchinson has been very lucky. Although the wound is deep and required stitches, the blade missed anything vital. We're just replacing lost fluids and starting him on antibiotics. I want to keep him in overnight but your partner is as stubborn as you and refuses."

"I'll be fine, doc," Hutch cut in. "I know the drill and Starsky here will keep an eye on me."

"I'm prepared to release him to your care, Detective Starsky, so long as he gets plenty of rest."

Starsky knew that that Hutch would not rest while Rosie was missing and was equally certain that he would simply walk out whether Starsky or Franklin agreed or not.

"Of course, doc. I'll make sure he rests."

Starsky shot Hutch a warning glance as Dr Franklin said, "He needs to stay here while the drips run through. Why don't you run and get a change of clothes for him? We should be done here in a couple of hours or so."

"I wish you wouldn't talk about me as if I wasn't here," Hutch grumbled, earning him a small smile from the doctor.

"I wish it was always so simple when you two come to see us. I have other patients to see, Ken. I'll be back soon to check on you."

"Thanks, doc," said Hutch as Franklin turned to go.

"Yeah. Thanks, doc," Starsky echoed.

As the curtain closed behind the doctor, Starsky turned to Hutch.

"What happened, buddy?" he asked quietly.

"I don't really know. We were standing waiting for you when I felt a pain in my side, like someone punched me. Rosie let go of my hand...or I let go of hers...I don't know..." Hutch's voice tailed away and he stared into the distance as though watching the incident replay on a screen. Starsky waited for him to continue.

"I saw this tall black guy dragging her away and I started to run after them but then... Where is she, Starsk? Did you catch him? Is she okay?"

Starsky grimaced and shook his head. "They were already gone before I got to you."

"Then what are you doing here?" Hutch yelled beginning to sit up. "What am I doing lying here? We gotta get out there, Starsky!"

"Whoa! Slow down, Blondie. You're not goin' anywhere till I've got your clean clothes and Doctor F okay's it."

Hutch looked like he was about to argue but Starsky silenced him. "Ollie Thomas has a team at the store interviewing all the witnesses and there's an APB out on Rosie. There's nothing we can do that's not being done already. I'll get Huggy on it too. Give me a description of this guy and I'll radio it in while I go get your clothes."

Hutch could obviously see the sense in this as he subsided back onto the bed with a sigh.

"Similar height and build to Huggy," he said closing his eyes. "Um...faded blue jeans, they didn't fit too well, looked old and well worn. Black sneakers. Big, baggy, hooded windcheater...dark blue with white stripes round the cuffs. That looked old too. Wears his hair real short."

He reopened his eyes. "Starsk, we've got to find her...we've got to. There's no telling what he's doing to her."

Starsky swallowed and squeezed Hutch's arm. "We will, Hutch. We will. Now get some rest while I go get your stuff."

The two detectives locked eyes both reading the guilt and sadness in the other's, yet at the same time giving each other strength and support. Starsky gave a short nod then roughly pushed his way through the curtains and marched back to his car. Throwing himself in, he put both hands through his hair and tugged at his curls in frustration. He grabbed the radio and called in Hutch's description of the kidnapper before firing up the Torino and peeling out of the parking lot.