FAMILY SECRETS

Starsky is forced to return to New York when his mother is murdered and uncovers some family secrets that are best left buried.

Beta read by ProvencePuss

CHAPTER 1

That day had started out just like any other day with nothing to predict how it would turn out. David Starsky had stumbled out of bed when his alarm went off and shuffled his way into the bathroom to take a shower and shave before getting dressed.

When he had finished, he went back into his bedroom and dressed in his usual attire, faded blue jeans so tight that they clung to his muscular form like a second skin and a dark blue tee shirt that accented his well-defined chest. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he pulled on his favorite blue and white Adidas and tied the laces securely.

Starsky and his partner, Ken Hutchinson, Hutch to his friends, were Police Detectives assigned to the inner city. They were part of the elite Zebra squad, a special unit assigned primarily to homicide but able to handle any other case that came their way. They had a designated district that they patrolled every day. They were known as tough, hard-nosed street cops with a reputation for fairness and a human side. They were the best team in the department. Their arrest record spoke for itself. They had been involved in and had solved some of the highest profile cases in the city.

They were as different as two people could possibly be both in appearances and personalities. Starsky had dark curly hair with ruggedly handsome features, an olive complexion, and sapphire blue eyes, while Hutch was a big blond with classic features, ice blue eyes and fair skin. He looked like he should be gracing the pages of GQ, while Starsky looked like one of the thugs they dealt with on a daily basis. Where Starsky was volatile and excitable, Hutch was laid back and easy going, although some of his peers considered him arrogant and aloof. Still, the two men complemented each other and they fit together like a glove.

They weren’t just partners on the police force, they were also the best of friends, often spending the majority of their off duty time together too and frequently double dating. Three or four times a week, one of them could usually be found crashing for the night on the other one’s couch. It was because of the close friendship they shared that they could work together as such a well-oiled team, able to anticipate each other’s moves with precision and grace. They even shared their own silent form of communication that often made those around them feel out of place. They could say more with a glance than most people could say in an entire conversation.

Whistling under his breath, Starsky left his bedroom and walked through his apartment to the kitchen where a pot of freshly brewed coffee was waiting. Starsky was not a morning person and usually needed a couple of cups of coffee to kick start his morning before he left for work. He had just poured himself a cup and mixed in a generous helping of milk and sugar when the phone rang. Grabbing the receiver, he put it to his ear. “Yeah? Talk to me.” He said. For a moment, there was nothing but silence on the other end of the line and he almost hung up, thinking that somebody had dialed a wrong number. Then a muffled voice, choked with sobs, said,

“Davey?”

“Nicky?” Starsky said, recognizing his younger brother’s voice in spite of the choked tone. Every instinct instantly went on high alert. “Nicky, what’s wrong?” he demanded, holding his breath as he waited for his brother’s answer.

“It’s Ma.” Nicky said in a broken voice unable to go on, breaking down into sobs instead.

“WHAT ABOUT MA?” Starsky said sharply to break through his brother’s obvious distress, his heart clutching with fear. “NICKY, WHAT HAPPENED TO MA?”

“She’s in the hospital.” Nicky managed to say “The doctors said she’s gonna die….” The younger man’s voice broke again as he choked back it sobs.

“What?” Starsky said in a stunned voice, as he sank down on the sofa, his heart pounding frantically in his chest. “What happened?”

“Somebody broke into the house. Ma came home and caught ‘em.” Nicky choked out “They shot her, Davy…oh, God, they shot Ma.”

“Are the doctors sure about her condition?” Starsky said his own voice choking up as he fought to control the emotions raging through him. “I mean…Ma’s still alive, right?”

“She’s dying, Davy…” Nicky repeated his voice only slightly stronger. “I think she’s just holding on till she can see you one last time…”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Starsky said numbly, hanging up the phone without waiting to hear Nicky’s reply. He began to shake; the temperature in the room suddenly seemed to have dropped several degrees, leaving him cold. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and began rocking back and forth on the coach, as his eyes flooded with unshed tears. That was how Hutch found him when he came through the front door fifteen minutes later.

“Starsk? What is it? What’s wrong?” Hutch asked in a worried voice as he immediately went to his best friend’s side and sat down beside him, reaching out to slip an arm around Starsky’s trembling shoulders. “Talk to me, buddy. What happened?”

“It’s Ma.” Starsky managed to gasp through the tightness that compressed his chest like a band of steel. “She’s dying…”

“Oh, god…” Hutch said, his own voice tightening with emotion. He had met Mrs. Starsky on several occasions and honestly liked the feisty woman who reminded him so much of her eldest son. “What happened? A stroke?”

Starsky shook his head slowly from side to side. It was several long minutes before he could find his voice to answer. “She was shot. Nicky said it looks like she walked in on somebody while they were robbing the house.” Starsky’s voice broke on the last sentence and the tears he had been fighting to hold back began to fall. He buried his face against his partner’s broad, comforting shoulder as he gave into his almost unbearable grief.

“Shhhh…it’s okay, pal. I got ya…I got ya.” Hutch said in a gentle, soothing voice as he held his partner close and let him vent his emotions. Hutch struggled to hold back his own tears, feeling his partner’s pain as acutely as if it were his own.

He knew how close Starsky was to his family, especially his mother. It hadn’t been easy for Rachel Starsky after her husband was gunned down, leaving her a widow at thirty-four with two sons to raise, a rebellious thirteen-year-old and an eight-year-old who didn’t understand why his world had suddenly been turned upside down. When her eldest son started hanging out with a local neighborhood gang and getting into trouble, she had made the heart-wrenching decision to send him to California to live with her brother-in-law and his wife. She had done it for his own good, to keep him from taking the wrong path in life. But, the teenaged Starsky hadn’t seen it that way. He’d seen it as a rejection, that his mother no longer wanted him. It had taken him a long time to make amends with his mother but when he did, they became closer than ever. Starsky called her every Friday night at eight pm, never missing his weekly phone call unless he had no other choice. Very few people knew it, but he also sent home part of his paycheck each week to help her financially.

Finally, Starsky’s tears stopped but he didn’t move from his place at Hutch’s side with his head resting on the big blond’s shoulder. Hutch knew that Starsky was too distraught to think straight right now or make any decisions, so Hutch would make them for him. “I’ll call Dobey and tell him what’s going on. Then I’ll call the airport and get us an emergency flight to New York.” He said softly.

Starsky nodded to show Hutch that he understood the words but he didn’t speak. When Hutch gently pulled away to make his phone calls, Starsky wrapped his arms back around himself for comfort and lowered his head, closing his eyes to hold back the tears that threatened to start falling again. He felt empty inside, feeling as if heart was being ripped from his chest.

Hutch dialed headquarters and spoke to his commanding officer, Harold Dobey, Captain of Detectives, homicide division. The Captain immediately granted both Starsky and Hutch compassionate leave for two weeks so that Starsky could go back to New York and Hutch could accompany him. He knew that without Starsky by his side, Hutch would refuse to work with a temporary partner and, knowing Starsky’s family history, he needed Hutch with him to face whatever waited for him in New York.

Next Hutch called the airport and managed to get them both a seat on a flight to New York that left in two hours. Most airlines kept at least a few seats open on their flights for emergencies like this one. With those immediate tasks out of the way, Hutch went into Starsky’s bedroom to pack the brunet some clothes for the trip. Luckily, Hutch kept some of his clothing at Starsky’s apartment so he was able to pack a bag for himself too. Carrying Starsky’s duffle bag and a small suitcase back into the living room, Hutch set them down beside the front door and turned his attention back to his silent, grieving partner.

“I got us a flight to New York, non-stop, that leaves in about an hour and a half so we need to get moving.” Starsky raised his head and looked at his partner with red-rimmed eyes, so full of pain that Hutch felt his heart twist inside his chest. “Come on, pal,” he slipped his hand under Starsky’s arm and helped the brunet to his feet. Starsky swayed unsteadily for a moment then quietly followed Hutch to the door. Hutch grabbed the bags and the two men left the apartment.

Starsky didn’t object when Hutch led the way to his battered LTD sitting at the curb behind Starsky’s candle apple red Torino. Starsky’s silence was unnerving but understandable under the circumstances. He was obviously in shock. Hutch tossed the bags in the back seat and helped Starsky into the front passenger side seat. Starsky leaned his head back against the worn leather seat and closed his eyes. Hutch walked around to the opposite side of the vehicle and slid beneath the wheel. The car sputtered a couple of times before finally starting.

Hutch pulled into the street and drove through the early morning rush hour traffic towards LAX. Forty-five minutes later, he pulled into the large parking lot and found a spot to leave his car in the long-term parking lot. He could leave the car there for up to a month without it being towed away. Starsky had opened his eyes and straightened up in his seat as soon as Hutch pulled into the parking lot, but he still did not speak. The silence was starting to get to Hutch. He was used to Starsky’s endless chatter and the easy banter they usually participated in whenever they were together. His continuing silence was a sign of his inner struggle to control his emotions.

The two men walked to the main terminal and went inside. The interior of the building was crowded with tourists and other passengers, most of them hurrying to catch a connecting flight or returning home to LA. Mixed in with the disembarking or departing passengers, were the friends and relatives who were at the airport to meet someone returning from a trip or coming to the city for a visit. Hutch stopped at the ticket counter to pick up their tickets and then led the way to the departure gate for their flight. They had a few minutes left before they could board the plane.

“You want some coffee or anything?” Hutch asked, glancing at his partner’s haggard, drawn face.

“No, I’m ok.” Starsky said, speaking for the first time since he’d told Hutch about his mother. His voice sounded tired and withdrawn, like a scared and lonely child.

Hutch found himself thinking that maybe that was what Starsky was right now. The lost and frightened thirteen-year-old who had been sent to California to live away from the only family he had ever known.

When they were called to board the plane, Starsky walked up the ramp with firm, determined steps, his shoulders squared with determination. Hutch walked at his side, watching his partner carefully, ready to assist in any way he could if Starsky showed any sign of needing him.

CHAPTER 2

To make the trip to New York more comfortable and less stressful for them both, Hutch had booked them seats in the first class section of the plane. The seats were wider and more comfortable with extra leg room, a blessing for the tall blond with his long limbs. Starsky barely seemed to notice as he slumped down in his seat, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Hutch reached out to clasp his friend’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort and support. He could feel the slight tremor that ran through the tightly coiled body.

“Try to get some rest, buddy.” Hutch said quietly. “It’s going to be a long flight.”

He leaned back in his seat and tried to take his own advice as he listened to the pre-flight instructions on what to do in case of an emergency. Even with a direct flight and no layovers, it would still take them approximately four hours to reach New York City.

Distracted by his own thoughts, Hutch was startled when a warm voice with a slow southern drawl said, “Ken? What are you and Dave doing on this flight?”

He glanced up into the big brown eyes of Katie Reynolds, a flight attendant that both he and Starsky had dated in the past whenever she was in LA on a layover. Her long red hair was pulled back from her face in a French twist and the uniform she wore gave her a professional appearance that was drastically different from the way Hutch was accustomed to seeing her dressed (or undressed as the case may be) The two partners frequently dated flight attendants. They were perfect companions for the two men. None of them was looking for any long-term commitments, just a good time.

“Starsky has to go back to New York for a family emergency.” Hutch said, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb his partner, who appeared to be sleeping or at least doing a good job of pretending to be. He had shifted positions at the sound of Katie’s voice but did not open his eyes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Katie said sincerely. She genuinely liked the two detectives who had always shown her a good time when she got together with either of them. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“It’s his mother.” Hutch said, declining to give her any further explanation.

“Well, tell Dave that I hope everything turns out okay.” Katie said with a fond look at the restless brunet. “And just give me a holler if y’all need anything.”

“I’ll do that.” Hutch told her with a faint smile. “He’ll appreciate your concern.”

As Katie walked away to tend to her other passengers, Starsky stirred and said softly, “Thanks, Blintz…I don’t feel like talking to anybody.”

“I thought you were asleep.” Hutch told him with an affectionate smile at the dark curly head.

“Naw, just got my eyes closed, that’s all.” Starsky sighed heavily and shifted in his seat so that he was leaning against Hutch, his head resting against the big blond’s shoulder, needing the physical contact for both the comfort and support it provided.

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy. I’m right here with ya all the way.”

“I know. Thanks for coming. I don’t think I could handle this alone.” Starsky’s voice cracked with strain as he fell silent once more.

“You won’t be alone. I’ll be beside you every step of the way.” Hutch put his hand on Starsky’s denim covered thigh and gave it a squeeze. “No matter what happens when we get there.” Hutch listened as Starsky’s breathing slowly deepened and evened out as he finally managed to fall into an emotionally exhausted slumber. Hutch remained awake, keeping watch over his traumatized friend.

The flight to New York passed uneventfully. Starsky aroused from his nap when the Captain announced that the plane was getting ready to land. He turned his head to glance out the window, his gaze sweeping over the first glimpse his childhood home. Hutch was glad that Starsky had been able to sleep for most of the flight. Not only did he need the rest to deal with what lay ahead, but the entire trip was more relaxing for both men that way. Starsky was a white-knuckle flyer at best. He was terrified of heights, although he managed to hide it well on the job. Flying, even on a commercial airliner, almost sent him into a panic attack. Hutch knew that whenever Starsky had to fly alone, he secretly fortified himself with a few stiff drinks in the airport lounge before boarding his plane.

The two friends disembarked from the plane with the other passengers and entered the bustling New York City terminal. They found their way to the luggage carousel to claim their bags. As they made their way through the crowd towards the exit, Starsky suddenly stopped and said, in an alarmed voice,

“Fuck! I forgot to ask Nicky what hospital they took Ma to.”

“Just relax.” Hutch said calmly. “Why don’t you call your father’s old precinct? I’m sure someone there can tell you. It was in their jurisdiction so they should have a report on the shooting. Maybe they can tell you a little more about what happened. I’m sure Nick was too upset to give you many details.”

Starsky nodded and dug some coins out of his pocket, heading for a nearby payphone to make his call while Hutch decided to grab a cup of coffee from a vending machine. When Starsky finished his call and rejoined Hutch, his face was pale and drawn. Instantly alerted the disturbed expression on Starsky’s face, Hutch said, “What’s wrong? We’re not too late are we?” He knew how important it was to Starsky to be able to see his mother one last time before she died.

“No,” Starsky said with a shake of his head, “It’s not that. The officer who answered Nicky’s call said that whoever shot Ma shot her three times. Three times, Hutch.” His voice was tightly controlled but Hutch could see how much of a struggle it was for Starsky to maintain control. “It’s a miracle that she even made it to the hospital alive.”

“Which hospital did they take her too?”

“Grandview. The precinct is sending an officer to pick us up and take us there. We need to wait for him out front.”

“Come on, pal.” Hutch said gently, throwing an arm around his companion’s shoulders. “Let’s go see your Mom.” He led the way to the main exit and the two men stepped outside to wait. It was late afternoon in New York City and the sky overhead was overcast with dark storm clouds rapidly approaching from the west. Starsky barely seemed to notice, withdrawing back into his own private version of hell.

Twenty minutes passed before a black and white cruiser pulled up to the curb in front of the two Bay City Detectives. As the two men climbed into the back seat, Starsky looked at the driver and exclaimed in a startled voice, “Pete?”

“Hi, Davy.” The driver, a uniformed officer in his mid-sixties, said with a grin. “When I heard you were in town I volunteered to be your chauffer.” His eyes, reflected in the rear view mirror, focused on Starsky’s face. His expression was one of sympathy and concern. “I’m really sorry about your mom.”

“Thanks. Pete, this is my partner, Ken Hutchinson.” Starsky said introducing the two men. “Hutch, this is Pete Garrison. He was my Pop’s partner on the NYPD for years.”

“Nice to meet you, Pete.” Hutch said acknowledging the introduction cordially.

“I’ve known Davy since he was in diapers.” Pete said with a chuckle, pretending not to notice the embarrassed flush that crept into Starsky’s face. “Even changed him a few times.”

“Pete and Pop were best friends just like me and you.” Starsky explained to Hutch, his voice softening with the more pleasant memories from his childhood. “Pete and his wife used to watch me and Nicky whenever Ma and Pop wanted to go out.”

“Yeah, and let me tell ya, those two boys were a handful.” Pete said with a wide grin.

“He still is sometimes.” Hutch said in a teasing voice as he winked at his partner, trying to keep Starsky distracted and focused on more pleasant thoughts than the reason for his trip.

“I was sorry to hear about Annie.” Starsky said, directing his comment to Pete.

“Ma called me when she died.”

“Yeah,” Pete said in a wistful tone as he talked about his deceased wife. “The cancer took her real quick. By the time the doctors found it, there was nothing they could do except keep her comfortable until the end.”

“I would have come to the funeral,” Starsky said “But I couldn’t get the time off.” He didn’t bother to tell his father’s old partner that he had been in the hospital himself at the time, recovering from a gunshot wound and couldn’t have made the trip to New York anyway.

Pete glanced in the mirror at the brunet behind him with a pensive smile. Pete and his wife had never been able to have children of their own and so Nick and David Starsky had become ‘adopted’ sons to them. After Michael Starsky was killed and David was sent away to live in California with his aunt and uncle, they had showered their attention on Nicky until he started running with a local gang and decided he didn’t have time for them anymore. They had remained close friends with Rachel Starsky and had spent many a night listening to her as she cried bitter tears over losing her youngest son to the streets, the same streets that she had sent her oldest son away from in order to protect him. As a result, the contrasting lifestyle between the two adult Starsky sons was dramatic. Starsky was a highly decorated Police officer back in Bay City, while Nicky was a two bit hustler, just one the local punks looking to make a score anyway he could.

The conversation came to an abrupt halt as Pete pulled into the parking lot for Grandview Hospital. He pulled up to the main entrance to let Starsky and Hutch out of the car. “Your mom is in room 316.” He told Starsky as the brunet climbed out of the back seat and hurried towards the entrance with Hutch by his side. Starsky raised his hand to acknowledge that he had heard Pete as he disappeared into the hospital.

Pete watched as the automatic doors slid shut behind them and then sighed as he drove back to the main entrance to return to headquarters. He hoped that David was strong enough to deal with the events that lay ahead and the family secrets that could be revealed before it was all over with. Secrets that Michael Starsky had gone to his grave to protect

FAMILY SECRETS

CHAPTER 3

Without bothering to stop at the nurse’s station, Starsky went directly to room 316. He threw open the door and stepped into the room. This was a private family moment for Starsky. Hutch would remain behind in the waiting room and be there to pick up the pieces when he was needed.

Rachel Starsky lay on the narrow hospital bed, surrounded by machines and various family members that still lived in the old neighborhood. Her eyes were closed and her face was deathly pale, a sharp contrast from the vibrant woman that Starsky knew and loved. The family members stepped aside to allow Starsky to join his brother, Nick, who was already at his mother’s side.

Nick Starsky glanced at his oldest brother with red-rimmed eyes, swollen from crying. In a broken voice, he said, “Thank God you’re here. Ma’s been asking for you.”

Ignoring his brother for the moment, Starsky reached out to take his mother’s hand. “Ma? It’s Davey. I’m here.” He struggled to keep his voice strong and under control but it was difficult. Unshed tears stung his eyes as his mother’s eyes slowly fluttered and then opened.

Her eyes were clouded and filled with pain, the vibrant blue washed away, but they sparked with recognition when she focused her gaze on her eldest son. “David…” she said in a voice that was weak and barely above a whisper. “I’ve been waiting for you…”

“I know.” Starsky said, choking back a sob. “I got here just as soon as I could.”

Rachel tried to raise her hand to cradle her son’s cheek but she was far too weak. Starsky gently pulled her hand to his face and rested her palm against his cheek, a single tear escaping from his eye. He tenderly kissed the palm of her hand and blinked rapidly to keep himself from losing control.

“I love you, David…” Rachel said, struggling to say the words she needed her son to hear before it was too late. “Don’t weep for me…your father is waiting for me. He’s been waiting for long time.”

“I love you too, Ma…” Starsky said, his voice cracking with the emotion he could no longer keep contained.

“Everything belongs to you and Nicky now…” Rachel whispered, taking a feeble drawn out breath. “Keep sacred what belongs to thee…” with those cryptic words, Rachel Starsky’s eyes closed for the last time and with one final breath, she was gone.

Nicky immediately jumped to his feet and ran from the room, while several gathered family members started a slow, keening wail of grief. Starsky choked back the lump that lodged in his throat as he gently placed his mother’s hand back on the bed. Reaching out and wrapping his arms around her, he gathered her body to him so she was cradled in his arms, her head resting against his chest. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head, his chin resting against his mother’s hair. His shoulders shook with silent sobs as he mourned the loss of his one remaining parent. The rest of the family members kept their distance, allowing him to grieve in silence for the loss of the woman who had given him birth.

In the corridor, Nicky had found an isolated spot to sneak a cigarette. His hands were shaking but he refused to give in to his grief. As he lit his cigarette and took a long, deep drag, he saw Hutch sitting in the waiting room. He immediately felt a surge of jealousy and outrage that David would bring him along at a time like this. This was a private family matter; Hutchinson had no business being here. For a moment, he seriously considered confronting the big blond and sending him back to Bay City where he belonged but quickly reconsidered that idea. Davey would never forgive him if he did something like that. But Nicky vowed to keep Hutchinson as far away as possible from the private ceremonies that lay ahead over the next few days.

Unknown to Nicky, Hutch had seen him rush from the room and had correctly guessed that Rachel Starsky had passed away. He had to restrain himself to keep from rushing into the room to hold and comfort his grieving partner. He saw a doctor disappearing into the room. He came back out a few minutes later and walked to the nurse’s station where he made a phone call.

Several minutes later, family members, some openly weeping, starting coming out of the room but there was no sign of Starsky. After several more minutes had passed without Starsky emerging from the room, Hutch finally jumped to his feet and rushed down the hallway. His natural instinct to protect his partner, overriding his hesitation at intruding on such a private moment for the Starsky family.

Quietly, he pushed open the door and stepped into the room, silent except for the soft muffled sobs from his partner, who was cradling his mother’s body in his arms, talking to her softly in Yiddish even as the tears streamed down his face. Hutch felt his own heart twist in response to the heart-breaking sight in front of him.

Quickly crossing to stand at his partner’s side, he clasped Starsky’s shoulder tightly. Without tearing his gaze away from his mother’s face, Starsky said in a pain-filled voice that cut through Hutch like a knife. “She’s gone, Hutch. Ma’s gone…”

“I know, buddy. Take your time…we won’t leave until you’re ready.” Hutch whispered. He watched as Starsky carefully laid his mother back against the pillows and gently placed a kiss on her forehead. Straightening up, he ran a hand over his face to wipe away his tears and took a deep shuddering breath. His eyes locked with Hutch’s worried gaze, sapphire eyes filled with so much pain and grief that it dominated the room. He slumped forward, almost collapsing into Hutch’s embrace.

Putting a strong arm around the brunet’s waist to steady him, Hutch slowly led Starsky out of the room. The hallway was empty except for the usual medical staff. All the relatives appeared to have left, including Nick. It suddenly occurred to Hutch that they were stranded at the hospital without a vehicle. He would have to call a taxi to take them to the nearest motel so Starsky could get some rest.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” a petite brunette nurse said quietly, approaching the two men hesitantly.

“Uh…yeah, could you call us a cab?” Hutch said

“Of course. Where would you like to go?”

“The nearest motel.”

The nurse nodded. “Why don’t you have a seat in the waiting room until they get here? I’ll have them check in downstairs and they can call up here when they arrive.”

“Thank you.” Hutch said gratefully

“Would you like some coffee or anything while you’re waiting? It’ll probably take a while for them to get here this time of day.”

“Some coffee would be good.” Hutch said “Put a lot of sugar in one of them, okay?”

“Of course.” She said, stealing a sympathetic glance at the dark-haired man who seemed only vaguely aware of his surroundings. She knew far too well the signs of grief-induced shock. She saw it far too often in her job.

As she walked away, Hutch gently guided Starsky over to a plush leather sofa and eased him down, sitting beside him with an arm slung protectively around his shoulders. Starsky freely expressed anger, joy, and a range of other emotions, but he kept his grief, sorrow and pain tightly contained and hidden deep inside of himself. He had dealt with too many losses in his life, losses of the people he loved the most, starting with his father when he was only thirteen, and now his mother. Somewhere along the line, he had learned to hide his hurt behind a wall that he’d built around his heart to protect himself from the pain. At times like this, Hutch was the only one allowed behind that wall.

The helpful nurse returned with two cups of coffee that she handed to Hutch with an encouraging smile. As she walked away to tend to her normal duties, Hutch gently coaxed Starsky to drink some of the coffee with the extra sugar. He didn’t even seem to notice the over-sweet taste. He drank because Hutch told him too, too distraught to do more than function at a basic level.

Forty-five minutes later when the nurse came over to tell that the cab had arrived and was waiting downstairs, Starsky appeared to be more alert but was withdrawn and quiet, wrapped tightly in his grief and immense loss. The two friends took the elevator down to the lobby and climbed into the cab that was waiting patiently for them in front of the hospital.

The motel where the cab driver dropped them off was only a few short blocks from the hospital. Starsky silently followed Hutch into the small office and waited while the blond rented them a room for the next two weeks. He barely noticed the smirk on the clerk’s face as he signed them in and handed Hutch a key to their room.

The room was dingy and drab, a double bed covered with a strained bedspread sitting in the middle of the room. They were both too tired, physically and emotionally, to object to the accommodations. It wouldn’t be the first time they had shared a bed. Starsky immediately retreated to the tiny bathroom and closed the door.

The brunet stripped off his clothes and let them fall to the floor. Reaching into the shower stall, he turned on the water, adjusting the spray until it was hot enough to burn his skin. He hissed as he stepped under the water, closing his eyes and turning his face into the scalding spray. He was beyond feeling anything except the bone crushing grief that surrounded him like a blanket. The sound of the shower drowned out the sound of the sobs that convulsed his body.

When Starsky had been in the bathroom longer than Hutch deemed necessary, he knocked lightly on the door. “Starsky? You okay in there?” he called out softly. When he didn’t receive an immediate answer, he turned the knob. The door was unlocked, so he went inside, skidding to a halt at the sight that met his eyes.

Starsky was crouched down in the shower stall, with his knees pulled tightly up against his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. His head was bowed and his entire body was shaking with a flood of emotion as the water beat down on him relentlessly. The water had gone from hot to cold and the olive skin was covered with goose bumps. Hutch immediately sprang into action, reaching in to turn off the water with one hand while his other hand grabbed a towel to wrap around his shivering partner.

Starsky allowed Hutch to pull him to his feet, standing passively as Hutch quickly dried him off and wrapped the towel tightly around his slender waist. Grabbing a second towel, Hutch briskly dried the wet curls until they were almost dry. Starsky just stood there, making no effort to assist him but not resisting his efforts either. When he was finished, Hutch led Starsky back out to the bed and watched at the brunet collapsed on the mattress. Within seconds, he was sleeping soundly.

Hutch sighed as he slumped down on the other side of the bed without bothering to undress. The last time he had seen Starsky like this was when his fiancée, Terry, had died. It had taken the brunet weeks to come out of the severe depression that had followed her death and this time, it was his mother that he was grieving. Hutch closed his eyes and tried to get some rest himself. He had a feeling that he was going to need it over the next few days.

CHAPTER 4

Hutch woke up early the next morning. Starsky was still sleeping so Hutch decided not to disturb him. Leaving the motel, he found a nearby coffee shop where he got some breakfast for both of them to take back to their room. He also found a rent-a-car agency where he rented a nondescript dark blue sedan for them to use while they were in town. He cursed under his breath after renting the car. Drivers in New York were an entirely different breed from the ones back in Bay City. He saw two accidents in the few short blocks back to the motel. No wonder most native New Yorkers took the subway or the bus. It was probably safer.

The smell of food aroused Starsky shortly after Hutch arrived back at their room. Sitting up in bed, he ran his fingers through his tousled curls. “What time is it?” he asked in a voice that still sounded drawn and tired.

“Almost eight-thirty.” Hutch told him, as he handed the brunet a cup of coffee and a Styrofoam box with an order of scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns in it. “I rented us a car. It’s outside.” Starsky opened the box and looked at the food, then took a few bites before setting it aside.

“I have to call the house and see when the service is for Ma.” Starsky said, reaching for the phone on the nightstand beside the bed. “Damn, I should have been at the house last night to talk to the Rabbi.”

“You needed to rest. Nicky had the rest of the family to help him arrange things.” Hutch pointed out.

“I’m the eldest son. I should have been there.” Starsky said, shaking his head as it occurred to him that Hutch didn’t know anything about the traditions or customs surrounding a Jewish funeral and burial. “According to tradition the burial has to take place as soon as possible and no more than two nights after the death. The soul has already returned to God, to allow the body to linger among the living would be considered disrespectful. So, the service will probably be held this afternoon as long as the coroner has released the body.” Starsky sighed softly as his mind went over the list of traditions and customs in his mind, some which would be followed in the following days and some which would not.. Starsky looked at his partner with almost a pleading expression on his face. “I need you there with me, Hutch.”

“What about the rest of your family? They may not approve of me being there.” Hutch said

A thin smile crept across Starsky’s face. “If you’re talking about Nick, what he wants doesn’t matter. I want you there. The rest of the family won’t care. After the burial you’ll have to come back here because I’ll have to stay at the house to sit Shiva.”

Hutch knew enough about the Jewish religion to recognize the term for the weeklong Jewish period of mourning, but he didn’t know much about the actual practice. Hutch knew that although Starsky was not a particularly observant Jew, there were some parts of his faith and culture that Starsky believed in deeply. “Who has to sit Shiva besides you and Nick?”

Starsky paused to gather his thoughts and then continued with his impromptu lesson on Jewish customs and traditions. He continued speaking even as he was dialing the phone. “There are seven immediate family members who are expected to sit Shiva. The mother, the father, any brothers or sisters, sons and daughters, and the husband or wife. You’ll be able to pay your respects during Shiva but you won’t be able to stay at the house with me.”

“It sounds like a lot of traditions and customs to remember.” Hutch said

“That’s only a few of them. I’ll explain the rest as we go along.” Starsky said with a soft chuckle. He turned his attention to more pressing matters as someone answered the phone at his childhood home.

Hutch thought about the vast differences between Starsky’s religion and the Lutheran religion that he had observed growing up in Duluth. The Jewish religion seemed to be much richer in tradition and customs. Hutch hoped that in some small way the religion of his childhood would bring some measure of comfort to Starsky in the days ahead. Starsky finished his call and looked at Hutch somberly.

“The service is at two o’clock this afternoon.”

“The autopsy is already done?” Hutch asked in a surprised voice. He hadn’t really been expecting the service and burial to happen that afternoon.

“The coroner hurried things along because he knew Ma was Jewish.” Starsky replied. Although Jewish law normally forbids an autopsy, the law required it because of Rachel Starsky’s murder.

Hutch watched as Starsky got dressed in his usual attire: faded jeans and a blue tee shirt. He didn’t bother with his usual windbreaker since neither one of them was carrying their weapons. The guns were safely locked away in the trunk of the rental car where Hutch had put them earlier. When Starsky was ready, they left their motel room and climbed into the blue sedan with Starsky behind the wheel.

He maneuvered his way through the heavy traffic to the west-side Brooklyn neighborhood where he had spent the first thirteen years of his life. At one time, it had been a pleasant middle class neighborhood but in recent years, it had become overcome with crime and drugs just like the rest of the city. Several homes sat vacant with boarded up windows and padlocks on the doors. The last time Starsky had come home for a visit, even he had been leery about walking the familiar streets after dark. He had tried to talk Rachel into moving to Bay City and staying with him, fearful for her safety in a neighborhood that was rapidly being taken over by gangs, but she had firmly refused to leave the house that had been her home for the past forty years. Now, Starsky regretted not insisting that she make the move even over her stringent objections.

The Starsky home was located in the middle of the block. It was a modest two-story frame house with a tiny yard in front and an attached two-car garage. Whenever Starsky came home for a visit, he tried to make any repairs that were needed so the house was in fairly good condition. Starsky parked in the driveway and the two friends went into the house, which was already crowded with family members. When Starsky saw Hutch looking at a mirror that hung in the front hallway covered with a black cloth, he leaned over and whispered, “The mirrors in the house are covered to keep the mourners from seeing their own reflection in the glass.”

“What about the basin of water by the front door?” Hutch whispered back.

“It’s for the mourners to wash in to signify that they have clean hands and had nothing to do with the person’s death.” Starsky explained patiently.

Hutch nodded somberly and followed Starsky into the living room. He found a seat in the corner of the room and sat down while Starsky walked over to speak briefly to Nicky and a man that Hutch recognized, as one of Starsky’s numerous uncles. Hutch glanced around the room, noticing for the first time that the relatives gathered in the house seemed to all be male with no females anywhere to be seen. When Starsky rejoined him, Hutch whispered, “Where are all your aunts?”

“They’re performing the Taharah.”

“Taharah?” Hutch repeated, frowning at the unfamiliar terms.

“The purification ceremony. After it is finished, my aunts will dress Ma for the service.”

“Have most of these customs been around since biblical times?” Hutch asked with interest.

Starsky nodded solemnly. He smiled faintly, “There are more customs associated with a Jewish wedding and a Jewish funeral than you can possibly imagine.”

“And let’s not forget the Bris ceremony.” Hutch said with a gin, referring to the traditional ritual circumcision of a Jewish male on the eighth day of life.

“Let’s not even go there, Blintz.” Starsky warned him with a chuckle. Although some of his depression seemed to have lifted, there was still a heavy sadness lingering in the depths of his expressive eyes. Hutch knew that this whole situation had to be difficult for Starsky. After living in Bay City for over twenty years, returning to New York only sporadically for visits, this was no longer his home. And since he no longer actively practiced his religion, even the customs and traditions he was being expected to follow must feel strange and out of place.

CHAPTER 5

The synagogue a few blocks from the Starsky home was crowded with people there to pay their last respects to Rachel Starsky. Hutch sat in a back row, along with the rest of the Gentile friends of the Starsky family. Starsky and Nick were both standing at the front of the assembly, beside the plain wooden casket that held their mother’s body. Even from a distance, it was plain to see the family resemblance between the two men.

They both had the same coloring, the same dark curly hair and the same muscular build but Nick Starsky was stockier and shorter than his older brother, with a cocky stance that was completely different from Starsky’s confident and self-assured strut.

Both Starsky sons were dressed in black suits with the traditional prayer shawls draped around their shoulders and their heads covered with their yarmulkes, the traditional Jewish skullcap. Even Hutch was wearing a Yarmulke as a sign of respect for the Jewish custom of covering their heads during prayers and other religious ceremonies. Nicky and Starsky were reciting a Psalm to start the service. When they finished, they stepped back to their seats in the front row, as the Rabbi led the congregation in a prayer. The Hebrew sounded strange to Hutch’s ears but at the same time, there was a soothing rhythm to the guttural tones.

Before the service began, the mourners had performed a ritual that Starsky called K’riah, or the rending of the garment. The Rabbi had ripped the sleeve of each mourner’s shirt or blouse, symbolizing the tear that was in their heart. While most of the mourners had the tear on their right side, Starsky and Nick had the sleeve on their left torn. This was to acknowledge that the relationship between a child and parent is different, so the rip in their garment was on the side closest to their hearts. The ceremony had begun with a special prayer was said as the garments were torn.

The service lasted a little over twenty minutes during which several Psalms were recited, several scriptures were read, and a eulogy was delivered. Afterwards, Nick and Starsky and their two uncles, carried Rachel’s casket out to the waiting hearse to take her body to her final resting place beside Michael Starsky.

There was a brief prayer said at the cemetery before the coffin was lowered into the open grave. Hutch watched with interest as the mourners, led by Nick and Starsky, picked up shovels, and filled in the grave themselves. Beforehand, Starsky had explained that this part of the burial was called the Chesed shel Emet, considered by Jews to be the ultimate, unselfish act of love and kindness, shown to the deceased by having the mourners actually participate in the burial. Emotionally painful and difficult, it gave the mourners a sense of closure and allowed them to do something physical for their loved one for the last time. When the grave was filled in, Starsky stepped forward, cleared his throat, and then recited the Kaddish, the Jewish prayer for the dead.

After the burial, those in attendance who were not mourners formed a double line facing each other, creating a pathway through which the mourners walked to receive words of comfort. After the last mourner had passed through the line, Hutch searched the crowd for his partner. He easily spotted the dark curls. Starsky was leaning against a tree waiting for Hutch to catch up with him.

There were dark circles under Starsky’s eyes and deep lines at the corners of his mouth that hadn’t been there a few days ago. The worst part was almost over but the ordeal was still far from being finished. Starsky still had to help close up the house and dispose of his mother’s belongings. In addition, there was still the investigation into her murder that needed to be resolved. Hutch hoped that whoever killed her would be found and brought to justice. Starsky desperately needed the closure of a conviction so he could live with his mother’s tragic death.

Hutch put his arm around his partner’s shoulders and led him back to the rented car. Hutch slid beneath the wheel and slowly drove back to the Starsky’s house. Starsky let out a deep sigh and said, “When we get back to the house, the neighbors will serve a meal called the Seudat Hawra’ah. You’ll be allowed to stay for the meal as my guest.”

Hutch listened to his partner’s patient explanations of the ancient customs and traditions. It seemed to distract him from his own grief and sorrow, giving him something else to focus on as he enlightened Hutch on the unfamiliar traditions and the reasons behind them. If it helped Starsky, then Hutch would gladly listen to him as long as Starsky needed him too.

When they arrived at the house, Hutch stood in the background, watching as Starsky lit the ceremonial Shiva candle, a candle which would burn for the next seven days as the mourners sat Shiva. It was there to serve as a constant reminder of the departed soul. Hutch joined the other men at a long table that had been set up in the living room while Starsky went upstairs to change into something more comfortable. Since he had met most of Starsky’s relatives the last time he came to New York with him for a visit, Hutch felt at ease with the other men, who all did their best to make him feel welcome

The sound of loud voices drifting down from upstairs caught Hutch’s attention. Recognizing his partner’s distinctive baritone, Hutch excused himself and rose to his feet. Without a second thought, he bounded up the stairs to see what was going on. As he reached the head of the stairs, Nick slammed out of a room at the end of the hall and almost knocked Hutch down in his headlong rush for the steps. He glared at the big blond in passing and muttered something in Yiddish that Hutch didn’t understand. Somehow, he didn’t think it was a compliment.

As Hutch started down the hallway, Starsky appeared in the doorway of the room Nicky had just stormed out of. He was dressed in his faded jeans and the white button down shirt he had worn to the services with the tear in the sleeve. As he drew closer, Hutch saw the telltale spark of anger in Starsky’s eyes.

“You okay?” Hutch asked quietly, crowding Starsky back into the room and closing the door behind them. They were standing in the middle of Starsky’s old bedroom.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Starsky said in an irritated voice, as he buttoned his shirt and tucked it into his jeans. “Nicky’s just pissed that you’re here. I told him to get over it. I’m still the oldest so I have the last word. According to Jewish law, I’m the head of the household now.”

“Look, Starsk…I don’t want to cause any trouble between you and Nicky…not now. Maybe I should just go back to the motel and wait for you there.”

“NO!” Starsky said, his voice louder than he had intended. He sighed and lowered his voice. “I invited you to eat the condolence meal with me and I want you to stay. Nicky will just have to deal with it. He won’t start anything with the whole family here.”

Hutch saw the stubborn, determined look in Starsky’s eyes and knew better than to argue. This was fight he wouldn’t win. Starsky needed him. That was all he needed to know. For Starsky, Hutch would stay. He leaned against the bedroom wall, watching as Starsky sat down on the edge of the twin bed. Instead of putting on his customary blue and white Adidas, he slipped on a pair of soft felt slippers and sat the skullcap back on his springy curls. Hutch smiled as he pictured a young Starsky growing up in this house, surrounded by love, only to have it all ripped away with his father’s brutal murder when he was thirteen.

Starsky never talked much about the day his father died. All Hutch really knew was that his father had been gunned down in his own driveway on his way to work one morning, in front of both Starsky and his mother. He had taken his last breathes cradled in his thirteen-year-old son’s arms. After his death, Starsky had started hanging out with the wrong crowd and getting into trouble, so in desperation, Rachel had made the hardest decision any mother had to make, to send her son away to live three thousand miles from home.

Hutch realized that he was going to miss Rachel almost as much as her son would. From the first day they had met, she had treated Hutch just like another son and made him feel right at home whenever he tagged along with Starsky for one of his yearly visits home. During Starsky’s Friday night calls to his mother, she always asked after Hutch, and whenever she wrote, she often included a separate note to Hutch. She was a generous and loving woman who had sacrificed her entire life for her sons, both of them even though Nicky had taken everything she had done for him for granted. She didn’t deserve to die like this, gunned down in her own home, the one place she should have been safe.

Hutch made a silent vow to do whatever he could to help find the person or persons responsible for her murder. And when Hutch made his mind up to do something, nothing stood in his way.

CHAPTER 6

After the traditional meal for the mourners, those who were sitting Shiva moved into the living room. Some of them sat cross-legged on the floor, while others chose to sit on the cushions they had taken from the sofa and chairs. Starsky and Nick both chose to sit on cushions.

“I guess I’d better go.” Hutch said self-consciously as Starsky joined his family to sit Shiva. He was grateful that Starsky had taken the time to explain the customs and traditions to him that were so different from the rituals he was accustomed to when mourning the death of a loved one. Watching Starsky joining in on these rituals gave Hutch a chance to see a side of Starsky that he seldom saw. Starsky had told him once that his parents had never been completely orthodox, even though they celebrated all the holy days and followed as closely as possible most of the teachings of their religion. After his father’s murder, his mother had taken comfort in her religion but when Starsky was sent to live in California with his aunt and uncle, they had celebrated a mixture of traditional Jewish and Christian customs since his aunt wasn’t Jewish. That was when Starsky started celebrating Christmas, embracing the holiday season wholeheartedly.

“Stop by tomorrow afternoon.” Starsky told him “That’s when friends and neighbors will be stopping by to pay their respects.”

Hutch nodded. “I figured since you have to stay here with your family for the next seven days, I could use the time to do some digging and find out what the local police have on the shooting and the break-in.”

“Good. I appreciate that.” Starsky said, his eyes darkening for a moment with renewed grief at the painful reminder of how his mother had met her death. “When you get to the station, look up Pete. He’ll help you all he can.”

Hutch nodded in acknowledgement. “I’ll see you tomorrow, partner.” Turning, Hutch left the house and climbed into the rental car parked in the drive. He drove back to the motel and went inside, collapsing on the bed, more exhausted than he realized. But sleep was elusive, lingering just beyond his grasp. Hutch found himself thinking about all the losses Starsky had suffered in his lifetime. Losses starting with the murder of his father when he was thirteen, then being sent thousands of miles away from the only home he had ever known to live with an aunt and uncle he barely remembered.

When he turned eighteen, he was drafted and sent to the jungles of Viet Nam for two years where he had witnessed horrors of war that had affected him deeply. He had spent the last two months of that stint as a prisoner of war, coming back to the States a long way from the boy he had been when he left. After that came the failed relationships with the women in his life, including the deaths of the only two women he had truly loved, Helen and Terri, followed by the death of his surrogate father, John Blaine, and now the tragic murder of his mother. A lesser man would have fallen apart under the strain and pain of so many terrible losses, but not Starsky. Above all, Starsky was and always would be a survivor. But, each loss had been etched deeply on his psyche and shaped him into the man he had become. Finally, Hutch’s weary mind relaxed enough for him to drift into a restless slumber.

After a quick breakfast the next morning, Hutch drove to the 21st Precinct, the department where Michael Starsky had been a cop until his untimely death. The building was old and rundown, much like the neighborhood around it. Inside, the lighting was dim and the halls smelled of cheap disinfectant and decay. But the rush of activity and noise had the same air of familiarity as Metro did back home in Bay City. Hutch made his way to the main lobby, where a long wooden rail separated an elevated counter from the rest of the room. The officer on duty behind the counter looked bored and disinterested, taking complaints from various members of the neighborhood, while pointedly ignoring the insistent ringing of the phone at his side.

Hutch cleared his throat loudly to get his attention, earning him a sullen glance. “Yeah? What do you want, Blondie?” the man growled impatiently. “Take a seat over there and wait your turn. This ain’t the Ritz, ya know.”

“I’d like to speak to Pete Garrison.” Hutch said patiently. He kept his voice calm and level but his tone made it clear that he wasn’t about to be dismissed so easily.

“Who are you and what do you want?” the officer in charge demanded rudely, glaring at the big blond in an attempt to intimidate him. Hutch met his gaze without turning away, locking eyes with the other man almost defiantly.

“Just tell Officer Garrison that Detective Hutchinson would like to speak to him.”

At the mention of Hutch’s superior rank, the duty officer’s belligerence disappeared and an intense curiosity took its place. “What’s this in regards to?” he asked more politely.

“Is Officer Garrison here or not?” Hutch asked, growing impatient with the delay.

With a scowl, the officer picked up the phone at his side and punched in three numbers, ringing an extension somewhere inside the building. He spoke quietly into the receiver for a few minutes, then hung up and looked at Hutch. “Officer Garrison will be with you shortly. You can have a seat over there.” With a curt nod towards a battered wooden bench sitting against the far wall the officer dismissed Hutch, who smiled thinly as he took a seat to wait.

Ten minutes later, Pete Garrison came through a set of swinging doors that led into the rest of the building. Scanning the faces in the lobby, he smiled warmly when he spotted Hutch. “Hey, good to see you again.” He said as he walked over to where Hutch was sitting. “How’s Davey holding up?”

“Okay. He’s at the house with the rest of his family.” Hutch said

“Sitting Shiva. I know.” Pete said with a nod, “I was planning to stop by this afternoon to offer my condolences.” The older officer tilted his head to one side and looked at Hutch intently. “You’re here about the shooting, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I was hoping you could tell me what you’ve found out so far.” Hutch admitted.

“I can do better than that. Come with me and I’ll let you have a look at the case file. I’m sure the Captain won’t mind. We all want to solve this thing as quickly as possible. All of us that knew Mike have tried to keep an eye on Rachel and Nicky over the years. Figured it was the least we could do, ya know?” He smiled as the two men started walking down the corridor towards the interior of the building. “We’re all real proud of Davey and the life he’s made for himself out there in California. Too bad I can’t say the same thing about Nicky and the life he’s made for himself here.”

“I know what you mean.” Hutch said with a soft chuckle. “He and Starsk might look like each other, but they are totally different people.”

“You got that right.” Pete said with a hint of sadness in his voice as he held open one of the swinging doors for Hutch to step through ahead of him. “Different as night and day.”

Hutch found himself in a long narrow hallway with offices on either side. He followed Pete to a stairway and climbed the steps with him to the fourth floor. Pushing open the heavy door at the head of the steps, Hutch found himself in a large room filled with desks, smoke and an ordered chaos that he was intimately familiar with. Uniformed men, as well as plain-clothes officers, mingled together throughout the room.

“Welcome to my world, Detective Hutchinson.” Pete said with a jaunty lilt to his voice. “I’m sure it’s a hell of a lot different here than it is back in Bay City.”

“Not that much different.” Hutch said, “Please, call me Hutch.”

“Okay, Hutch.” Pete said, leading the way to an empty desk near the rear of the room. “Have a seat while I talk to the Captain and get the file.”

Hutch sat down to wait, his gaze automatically sweeping around the room. Men in plain clothes were working on reports, reading case files, or talking between themselves. Some of the uniformed officers were talking to either witnesses or victims, taking preliminary statements, while others were guarding prisoners who were easily identified by the handcuffs they wore around their wrists. A few men stood around the ever present coffee machine sitting at the other end of the room.

Hutch’s eyes drifted to a framed photograph of two young men in uniform that was proudly displayed on the desk. One of them looked so much like Starsky that Hutch knew it had to be a picture of Michael Starsky and a much younger, Pete Garrison. Hutch remembered Starsky mentioning on the way to the hospital that they had been partners and best friends just like they were.

“I never worked with another partner after Mike got killed.” Pete’s voice said, startling Hutch who had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t heard his approach. “Just didn’t feel right, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know,” said Hutch, knowing that he would feel the same way if anything ever happened to Starsky. The mere thought of losing the man whose life had become so intertwined with his own through the years sent a cold chill down Hutch’s back.

“The Captain said I could let you read the file but he’d like to talk to you for a couple of minutes first if you don’t mind.” Pete said

“I don’t mind at all.” Hutch said politely, gracefully rising to his feet and following Pete across the room to a tiny office with the door standing open. A heavyset man with a deeply lined face and neatly trimmed steel gray hair looked up at Hutch with piercing brown eyes that seemed to be sizing up the detective from California. “Shut the door, Pete.” He said in a deep rumbling voice.

Once the door was securely closed and both men were seating in the chairs facing the desk, the Captain said, “I’m Captain Reynolds. I’m glad to meet you, Detective Hutchinson. I understand that you’re Davey’s partner from Bay City.” The use of Starsky’s childhood nickname made Hutch smile faintly. Obviously, Captain Reynolds had also known the Starsky family personally. As if he had read Hutch’s thoughts, the Captain said, “I was Mike’s training officer when he graduated from the academy. He was cocky as hell and so damned sure of himself. I knew he was gonna make a damned good cop. Too bad he ended up the way he did or he would have had my job by now.”

“Sounds like somebody else I know.” Hutch said with a slight smirk, the comparisons between Starsky and his father fitting in perfectly with the opinions Hutch had formed over the years about Michael Starsky. Although Hutch had soon seen the iron will and stubborn streak in Rachel Starsky that she shared with her eldest son, he had always suspected that the more fundamental traits such as Starsky’s integrity, strong sense of right and wrong, and volatile temper had been inherited from his father. And as he had already seen from old snapshots that Starsky treasured, the resemblance between father and son was uncanny. Nicky had the same coloring, the same sapphire blue eyes and the dark brown curly hair but it was the elder Starsky son that was almost a dead ringer for his dead father.

“The first time I saw Davey after he left New York was just after he came back from Viet Nam.” Captain Reynolds said with a fond smile. “My heart almost stopped. I thought I was seeing Mike walking through that door.” The older man’s face turned solemn and serious. “Everyone in this department wants to find Rachel Starsky’s murderer and we won’t rest until we do. We owe that to Mike and to Davey.” Hutch noticed immediately that there was no mention of Nicky’s name. “We could never prove who killed Mike, although we had our suspicions. I don’t want the same to happen with Rachel. So, I’m going to let you see the file as a professional courtesy and as a personal favor to Davey. As long as you agree to let me know if you or Davey discover anything while you’re here that can help us to solve this case.”

“I promise.” Hutch said. “I want to find out who murdered Rachel Starsky just as much as you do. She was a real special lady. She didn’t deserve to die that way.”

“I agree. How’s Davey handling it?”

“About as well as can be expected.”

“I always figured that if I ever had to investigate another murder involving a Starsky, it would be Nicky and not Rachel.” The Captain said dryly. He rose to his feet and held out his hand, signaling that the meeting was over. Hutch stood up and shook the older man’s hand firmly. “Pete will show you what we’ve got so far. I’m afraid it isn’t much.”

CHAPTER 7

Pete led the way to an empty office in another part of the building. Closing the door behind them, the two men sat down at a long table sitting in the middle of the room. Pete opened the folder and spread the papers it contained out in front of Hutch. Hutch began to examine the various reports and statements. Interpreting the dry, dispassionate language that officers were required to use in their official reports, Hutch pieced together what had happened the night Rachel Starsky was shot by an intruder in her home.

Nicky had gotten home around three in the morning and found his mother in the living room where she had apparently managed to crawl after being attacked in her bedroom. The phone was lying on the floor beside her, the receiver off the cradle. It appeared that she had tried to phone for help but passed out before she could. Nick’s initial call had simply stated that he had come home and found his mother unconscious and bleeding.

The first officers on the scene, Officer Eric James and his partner, Phil Spencer, had identified Rachel’s injuries as gunshot wounds and called for an ambulance. They arrived within fifteen minutes of Nick’s initial call. Hutch fought back his anger when he realized that Nick had failed to call for an ambulance for his own mother, instead leaving it for the responding officers to do. Still, Hutch had dealt with enough distraught and emotional family members who had been too traumatized by finding someone they loved seriously injured or dead to have the presence of mind to call for an ambulance to criticize Nick too harshly for his actions.

There was clear evidence that someone had broken into the Starsky home through the back door. There were pry marks around the lock and deep gouges in the doorframe. There was evidence to support the theory that there were at least two people involved in the break-in, including several sets of unidentified fingerprints.

Most of the ransacking had occurred in Rachel and Nicky’s bedrooms. Drawers had been opened and the contents tossed onto the floor, clothes ripped out of the closets, even the mattresses had been cut open and stuffing pulled out as if they were looking for something specific. Nick had reported several pieces of his own and Rachel’s jewelry missing, including his mother’s wedding rings, which she had been wearing. He had also reported an undetermined amount of cash missing from a desk in the living room.

Blood splatters in Rachel’s bedroom indicated that she had been attacked there where she had been shot once, maybe twice. She had tried to get to the phone in the living room and blood patterns there indicated that the final shot, in her back, had been fired in that location. Nicky reported that the phone line was unplugged and that he had to plug it back in to call the police.

Evidence had been found in the bathroom sink that seemed to indicate that at least one of the intruders may have been injured in the altercation. The blood smears found there did not match either Nicky or his mother’s blood type.

A canvas of the neighborhood had turned up a next-door neighbor who reported being awakened around one a.m. by what sounded like a woman’s screams followed by gunshots. However, the neighbor had grown accustomed to the recent rash of gang activity in the neighborhood and had assumed that it was a fight between gang members and had been too concerned for his own safety to investigate or to call the police.

Hutch looked at his companion and shook his head. “This sucks. If that neighbor had called the police when he heard those screams, the cops might have been able to catch these suckers…maybe even have saved Rachel’s life.”

“Yeah, I know.” Pete said glumly. “I keep thinking about Rachel lying there all that time until Nicky got home and found her. The doctor at the hospital said she still probably would have died from the gunshot wounds but she had a heart attack too. All that was just too much for her system to handle.”

Hutch grimaced. He hadn’t known that Rachel had suffered a heart attack. Even if the heart attack had actually contributed to her death, the intruders who shot her would still be facing first-degree murder charges when apprehended. Hutch continued to read.

There were no suspects and the fingerprints remained unidentified. Several questions immediately came to mind for Hutch. Why had the Starsky home been singled out? Why had Nicky and Rachel’s bedrooms been ransacked but not Starsky’s old bedroom? Was the stolen jewelry and money just a cover? Were the thieves looking for something else? Something they may or may not have found before Rachel came home and surprised them? Why was Rachel shot? To eliminate her as a witness or was there another more personal reason? Hutch hoped he could find the answers to at least some of those questions.

He glanced over the autopsy report, picking out the most relevant parts. The cause of death was listed as gunshot wounds complicated by a massive heart attack. One bullet had hit Rachel in the left shoulder and exited through her back. A second bullet had hit her in the right side, lodging in her kidney and rupturing her spleen, causing massive internal hemorrhaging. The third bullet had struck her in the back, slightly to the left of her spine, and had punctured a lung and nicked the sac surrounding her heart which had led to the heart attack. Two of the shots should have been fatal but Rachel had the same inner strength as her eldest son. She had managed to hold on long enough for her eldest child to arrive from California before dying from her injuries. Although the doctors at the hospital had managed to stop the massive bleeding, they were unable to stabilize her vital signs. The damage had already been done.

Rachel had drifted in and out of consciousness at the hospital and had not been able to give a description of her assailants, although she had been able to verify that there were two people involved. A vivid bruise on her upper right arm indicated that one of the assailants may have grabbed her at one point.

Hutch knew that eventually Starsky would demand to see the file for himself and some of the information contained in the reports would be devastating for the brunet to read. The blond raised his eyes and glanced at Pete as he shoved the papers back into the folder and closed it. “Do think Nicky’s hiding anything?” he asked, voicing a question that he knew he might regret asking. Starsky would never be able to handle it if he found out that Nicky had anything to do with their mother’s death.

“I don’t think so.” Pete said, shaking his head. “He was pretty shook up. I think if he had any idea who hurt his mom he’d tell us. He’s too much of a coward to go after them himself.”

“But, he runs with some pretty unsavory characters. Maybe he had something that one of them wanted back.” Hutch suggested.

“That thought had crossed my mind.” Pete admitted “But we didn’t find any evidence of that at the house when we searched it.”

“Still,” Hutch mused thoughtfully “It looks like they were looking for something besides some jewelry and some money.”

“Maybe they were just hyped up on drugs.” Pete suggested

“Maybe.” Hutch said “I have to go. I want to go by the house and check on Starsk.”

“Tell him that I’ll stop by later.” Pete said, rising to his feet and accompanying Hutch back down to the main lobby.

Hutch left the police station and drove to the Starsky home, mulling over the information he had learned from the official file. In Hutch’s mind, it raised more questions than it answered.

At the Starsky home, Hutch knocked lightly on the front door and then let himself in as Starsky had instructed him the day before when he explained that while sitting Shiva, the mourners do not greet guests, rise to meet them, or see them out. Since it was customary to bring food for the mourners, Hutch had stopped for a bag of plain bagels which he sat on the tiny dining room table along with other offerings.

Starsky was still sitting in the same spot he had taken yesterday. Hutch greeted him with a silent smile; waiting for Starsky to speak first as the brunet had explained to Hutch that was customary during a Shiva call.

“Where you been?” Starsky asked, keeping his voice low so nobody close by could overhear their conversation.

“At the police station meeting with Pete and his Captain. I saw the case file.”

“Anything useful in it?”

“Not much. There were two assailants and they forced their way into the house through the kitchen door. That’s about it.” Hutch said, deciding to keep most of the information he had learned to himself. There would be time enough to tell him the rest of the details after the week of sitting Shiva was over.
“Nicky said they took some jewelry and money, including Ma’s wedding rings.” Starsky said with a slight catch in his voice. “She was wearing those rings, Hutch. They had to take them off her finger. She would never have given them up without a fight.”

“I know, pal. Hopefully, we’ll find them. Pete said they notified all the pawn shops to be on the alert in case they try to hock any of the pieces.”

Starsky snorted softly. “You know as well as I do that they’ll use a fence not a pawn shop to get rid of it. It’s too hot.”

“Yeah, I know but maybe we’ll luck out and they’ll be really stupid thieves.”

“Yeah, right.” Starsky said sarcastically. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, giving Hutch a quizzical look. “What ain’t you telling me, Blintz?” he asked

Hutch tried to keep his face impassive. Starsky knew him too well. He knew when Hutch was holding something back. “I’ll fill you in later.” Hutch promised. “Now’s not the time.”

For a moment Starsky looked like he wanted to argue but then he nodded his head, agreeing to wait for another time to go over the contents of the file. Hutch visibly relaxed. He hated holding anything back from his intuitive partner.

Hutch stayed most of the afternoon, sharing memories of Rachel with her son. From a corner of the room, Nicky watched the two friends with hooded eyes. Resentment boiled inside of him at Hutch’s presence. He should be the one comforting his brother, not the big blond with an attitude. He acted like he was Davey’s brother instead of Nick. And what really galled Nick was the fact that Davey let him do it.

CHAPTER 8

Starsky watched with mild interest as the woman came into the room and immediately went to the corner where Nicky was sitting. She appeared to be around Starsky’s age with the same olive coloring and dark blue eyes fringed with thick dark lashes. Long chestnut colored hair fell in soft curls around her shoulders. A pleased smile spread across Nicky’s face and the two of them began talking quietly between themselves.

Curiously, Starsky leaned over towards his Uncle Levi and whispered, “Who’s she?”

“She is Nicholas’ newest conquest. Her name is Maria Santini.” Levi answered with a disapproving snort.

“Santini?” Starsky asked in a stunned voice, his eyes showing his immediate concern. “Like in Antonio Santini?”

“He is her father.”

Starsky let out a silent whistle of dismay. Antonio Santini was a well know local mob boss. He had been second in power only to Joe Durniak, who had been a close friend of the Starsky family. When Joe was killed in a pre-arranged hit to keep him from testifying in front of a senate committee, Santini had taken over his territory. If Nicky was playing around with a ‘mafia princess’ he could be in for a rude awakening if he took too many liberties. .

“How’d Nicky meet her?” Starsky asked his uncle, keeping his voice low so they would not be overhead.

“I do not know.” Levi answered with a disapproving frown. “That is something you would have to ask Nicholas.” Switching from English to Yiddish, he gently scolded Starsky reminding him solemnly that during Shiva they were not supposed to be discussing personal matters. It was a time to be remembering and honoring Rachel. Starsky nodded and bowed his head, lowering his eyes in respect. However, he was first and foremost, a detective, and his mind filed away this latest information about Nicky’s new lady friend.

Starsky’s own eyes lit up with pleasure when he saw Hutch come into the room, shortly after Maria Santini left. This was the fourth day of Shiva and Hutch had stopped by each afternoon to spend some time with Starsky. Although tradition forbid Starsky from leaving his seat on the floor and ‘visiting’ with his partner privately, or discussing ‘personal matters’ as his Uncle Levi had chastised him for earlier, he and Hutch still found opportunities to quietly discuss the case. Hutch had filled Starsky in on what he had learned so far from the case file, which they both agreed wasn’t much to go on.

Hutch told Starsky that he planned on meeting with the first two officers on the scene later that afternoon. Sometimes they noticed things or gained impressions of the scene that weren’t included in their official reports. Starsky regretted not being able to go with him to talk to the two patrol officers, but that was not possible until after Shiva. He would have to rely on Hutch’s interrogation skills to see if the two uniformed officers could tell them anything useful.

As Hutch was preparing to leave, Starsky suddenly remembered Nicky’s new girlfriend. Leaning in closer to Hutch, he whispered, “See what you can find out about Maria Santini. She’s Nicky’s new girlfriend and her father is one of the biggest mob bosses in the city.”

“Sounds like Nicky is stepping up in the world.” Hutch said dryly “Do you think he’s messed up with her father?”

“With Nicky I’d believe almost anything….but Antonio Santini is still out of his league. Besides from what I’ve heard about Santini, he doesn’t care much for Jews.”

“Which means he could be a little pissed off if he found out his daughter was seeing one behind his back.” Hutch said, finishing Starsky’s unspoken thought aloud.

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Starsky admitted. Even though he and Nicky had their differences and did not see eye to eye on most things, Starsky still felt a family loyalty to Nicky to try to keep him out of trouble.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Hutch promised, rising gracefully to his feet and leaving the room.

After leaving the Starsky home, Hutch drove to a coffee shop a few blocks away where he had arranged to meet with Eric James and Phil Spencer after they got off duty.

He arrived first and secured a table at the back of the room, away from the other customers. He ordered a cup of coffee and sandwich, settling back in his seat to wait. Forty-five minutes after his arrival, two uniformed officers strode into the café and glanced around the room before walking towards his table.

“Detective Hutchinson?” said the older of the two men, who appeared to be in his late forties with black hair and brown eyes. “I’m Officer Spencer.” He nodded at the other man, who was at least ten years younger with brown hair and a nervous manner, shifting restlessly from one foot to the other. “And this is my partner, Officer James.”

“I’m pleased to meet you both. Please sit down.” Hutch said graciously.

The two men took seats across from Hutch. When the waitress came over to take their order, they both ordered coffee and a piece of pie. As she walked away from the table, the three men got down to business. Phil Spencer, as the senior officer to his rookie partner, spoke for both of them.

“Pete Garrison told us that you were David Starsky’s partner and that you came here with him from Bay City.”

“That’s right. I’ve read your reports about the night Rachel Starsky was murdered and I was hoping maybe you could go over everything for me again and don’t leave anything out. I wanna know what you saw and what you thought.”

“Okay. We got the call about three-ten a.m. and arrived at the Starsky residence about nine minutes later.” Officer Spencer said, “Nick Starsky met us at the door and told us he had come home and found his mother in the living room, unconscious and bleeding from undetermined wounds.”

“I saw Mrs. Starsky lying on the floor and went over to check her.” Eric James said, “I checked for a pulse and told my partner to call an ambulance when I found one. The lady was unconscious and having trouble breathing. There was a large pool of blood underneath her body and there appeared to be a bullet wound in her back.”

“What was Nicky doing while you were doing all this?” Hutch asked

“Just standing there.” Spencer told him. “He kept rambling on about how he’d been out with a friend and just got home. He seemed pretty out of it.”

“Did it look like he’d been drinking or doing drugs?” Hutch asked

“He acted like he was high on something but I didn’t smell any alcohol on him.” Spencer said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“He acted like he was afraid we were gonna try and say he shot her.” Officer James added somewhat nervously. “He was really twitchy…ya know?”

“Did he say where he’d been or who he’d been with?” Hutch asked, thinking about what Starsky had told him concerning the identity of Nicky’s newest girlfriend.

“No, and we didn’t ask.” Officer Spencer said tightly. “It didn’t seem that important at the time. He just seemed like some little punk that had probably been out banging some chick.”

Hutch frowned but didn’t comment. The first rule in any homicide investigation was to start with those closest to the victim, eliminate them as suspects first, and then work your way out from there. Someone should have at least verified Nicky’s whereabouts during the time of the attack on his mother. Hutch honestly didn’t believe that Nicky had anything to do with his mother’s murder, at least not intentionally, but that didn’t mean that the break-in wasn’t connected to him or his actions somehow. “What about you?” Hutch asked, glancing at the younger cop questioningly.

James glanced at his partner anxiously before answering. He was obviously intimidated by his older, more experienced colleague. “Uh…yeah, that’s what I figured too. I mean…he looked like a guy that had been having a pretty good time, ya know?”

“Can you been a little more specific?” Hutch asked a bit impatiently. “What exactly made you think that Nicky had been with a woman?”

“He had hickies all over his neck for one thing.” Spencer said with a snort. “And there was some lipstick on his face.”

“Okay. What did you do after you called for the ambulance?”

“We secured the scene and waited for the detectives to show up.” Spencer said, “That’s about it.”

“What did Nicky do while you were doing all that?” Hutch asked

“Sat on the sofa and smoked one cigarette after another.” Officer James jumped in and answered. “Kept asking us if his mother was dead or not.”

“Started ranting and raving about how people weren’t safe in their own homes anymore.” Spencer added.

“Is that all?”

“When the ambulance got there, I heard him ask one of the detectives if he could come back to the house to sleep or not.” James commented. “And I heard him saying something about his brother being a cop out in California and that he’d have to call him.”

“That’s about it.” Spencer said, finishing his coffee and his pie almost simultaneously. “We left and went back to the station to fill out our reports.”

“Thank you for taking the time to talk to me.” Hutch said courteously. The two uniformed officers stood up and left with another word. Hutch shoved his half-eaten sandwich to one side and mulled over what he had learned from the two uniformed men. Still not much useful other than the fact that Nicky had probably been out with a woman and may or may not have been drinking or using drugs that night. There was nothing to implicate Nicky in his mother’s death or cast any suspicion on his actions that night. Hutch knew that would put Starsky’s mind at ease. The next order of business was to see what he could find out about Maria Santini and her relationship with Nicholas Starsky. Hutch decided to wait until after Starsky was finished sitting Shiva with his family before taking on that task. This was Starsky’s old neighborhood; he could ask questions about the Santini family without arousing suspicion.

CHAPTER 9

The seventh and final day of Shiva was observed for only a few short hours, even though it still counted as a whole day. After a short service led by the rabbi, the mourners continued to sit for a little while, until those who had come to comfort them said to them “Arise.” As the mourners slowly rose to their feet, the comforters said, “No more will your sun set, nor your moon be darkened, for God will be an eternal light for you and your days of mourning shall end. Like a man whose mother consoles him, so shall I console you, and you shall be consoled in Jerusalem.”

With those final words from the friends and neighbors gathered with them, the mourners left the house of mourning publicly for the first time, taking a short walk around the block with those who have come to comfort them. Hutch walked at his partner’s side, secretly proud of being invited to join in this final ritual if mourning for Rachel Starsky.

Hutch had already checked them out of the mo