MIND GAMES

Someone is after Starsky. Will Hutch be able to help Starsky find out who it is before it’s too late?

Thanks to ProvencePuss for beta reading this story.

Chapter One

The insistent ringing in his ear pulled David Starsky from a deep sleep. Shit! Time to get up already? It feels like I just got to sleep! Keeping his eyes closed, he reached out and fumbled for his alarm; annoyed when the ringing continued. As his mind became more coherent, he finally realized it was the phone ringing and not his alarm.

“ ‘Lo?” he mumbled sleepily, snagging the receiver and dragging it to his ear. There was no immediate answer, but Starsky could hear someone on the line, breathing heavily in his ear. “Hutch?” he asked anxiously. He was wide awake now, his heart starting to pound in his chest. “Is that you? Are you okay?”

Automatically, his eyes shifted to the alarm clock sitting on his nightstand. Two am. There was still no answer to his worried inquiries. Before he could speak again, there was a sharp click in his ear as his mysterious caller hung up.

Muttering under his breath, Starsky hung up the receiver. Relieved that the caller hadn’t been his partner in some kind of distress, he rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. He was awakened again at 3 am by the ringing of the telephone. It was identical to the first call that had disturbed his sleep. The calls were repeated at 4 am and 5 am.

By the time Starsky’s alarm went off at 6:30 am, dragging him out of bed to start another day, he was in a cranky, irritable mood from his interrupted rest. Shoving himself to his feet, he stumbled into the bathroom. Reaching into the shower, he turned on the shower, adjusting the water to a comfortable temperature. Stepping beneath the spray, he leaned forward, resting his hands against the tiled wall, letting the water pound down over his weary body.

Somewhat revived by his shower, he finally turned off the water and climbed out of the tub. Drying off briskly, he wrapped the towel around his slim waist, continuing with his morning routine. Finishing in the bathroom, he returned to his bedroom and rummaged through his closet for clothes. Holding his breath, he pulled on a pair of his favorite skintight Levis, and then sat down on the edge of his bed to pull on his Adidas. He pulled a light blue tee shirt over his head as he headed towards the kitchen for his morning coffee.

He had just poured his first cup of the day when he heard the distinctive sound of his partner’s latest vehicle pulling up downstairs. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps on the steps and then the front door opened to admit his partner and best friend, Ken Hutchinson.

“Amazing,” Hutch said with a tolerant smile. “You’re up on time for a change.” He helped himself to a cup of freshly brewed coffee, grimacing at how strong it was. “God, Starsk,” he muttered “Did you need that much a jolt this morning?”

“Stuff it, Blondie.” Starsky growled irritably. “I’m not in the mood this morning.”

“Late night, huh?” Hutch said “Who was it this time? Karen? Becky? Or maybe somebody new?”

“None of the above,” Starsky grumbled, finishing his coffee and immediately pouring another cup. “Somebody thought it was funny to call me every hour on the hour and breath heavy in my ear.”

“Male or female?” Hutch asked with an arch of his eyebrow.

“Jeez, Hutch, I couldn’t tell just from their breathing.” Starsky quipped. “Guess I’m not as good of a detective as you are.”

“Come on Starsk,” Hutch said calmly “It was probably just kids playing around.”

“Too bad there’s no way to know what number they were calling from,” Starsky complained, stifling a yawn. He frowned as a new thought occurred to him. “How would kids get my phone number anyway? It’s not listed in the book.”

“Oh, come on, buddy,” Hutch said “They probably dialed it by accident the first time and then just decided to keep bugging you.”

“I guess…” Starsky said, as he put on his shoulder harness, and then shrugged into a light windbreaker to conceal his weapon. “Let’s give Dobey a thrill and show up on time for duty for a change.”

The two men left the apartment and climbed down the stairs to the street. Starsky pointedly ignored Hutch’s battered LTD and strode to his own car, a Candy Apple Red Torino with a broad white racing stripe. Unlocking the door, he slid underneath the wheel and leaned over to unlock the other door for his partner.

Hutch settled into the black leather seat and began to check the police issued equipment they carried in the car. Starsky turned the key in the ignition and the powerful engine roared to life. As he pulled away from the curb, Hutch reached for the microphone hanging beneath the dash to log them on duty for the day.

The day was relatively uneventful. The two detectives cruised the streets in their assigned district, stopping occasionally to talk to some snitches and other street people they recognized. They broke up a fight between a man and his girlfriend, recovered some stolen jewelry from a reputable pawnshop, and arrested a junkie who stole a woman’s handbag right in front of them. They even managed to get off work on time for a chance.

They decided to stop by The Pits for a beer and something to eat before going home for the evening. Starsky was still irritable from his disrupted sleep and more than ready to call it a day.

Their favorite bar was just starting to fill up with the late afternoon trade when the two detectives arrived. Hutch led the way to their usual booth near the back of the room. No sooner had they sat down then the owner of the bar, Huggy Bear, sat two ice cold beers down on the table in front of them. The tall black man smiled at his two friends and said, “You two are in here early tonight. What happened? Did the bad guys decide to give you a break?”

“Something like that,” Hutch said with a grin. He glanced at Starsky and then ordered for both of them. “Give us two specials, Hug.”

“And an extra order of fries with mine.” Starsky added, slouching down in his seat with a yawn.

“Those late nights are gonna get to ya yet, Starsky.” Huggy teased him, turning to walk away.

“Why does everybody assume I’m tired because I had a hot date last night?” Starsky grumbled as Huggy left to get their food.

“Maybe because that’s usually the reason you’re so wiped out.” Hutch said with a chuckle.

“Just wait until the next time some lovely keeps you up half the night and your ass is dragging the next day at work,” Starsky said pointedly. “At least if I had that as an excuse, I’d have gotten something worthwhile out of it instead of somebody breathing heavy in my ear half the night.”

“Cheer up, Gordo. After we eat, you can go home and catch up on your beauty sleep.”

“That’s just what I plan on doing.” Starsky told him.

After eating their meal, the two men left the bar and Starsky drove Hutch back to his apartment so he could retrieve his car. Before he left, Hutch promised to pick Starsky up for work the next morning. Starsky started climbing the steps to his second floor apartment as his partner pulled away.

Unlocking his door, Starsky went inside and straight to his bedroom. Stripping off his clothes, he crawled into bed and was soon sleeping soundly. The calls started shortly after one am. By 6 am, Starsky was ready to pull the telephone out of the wall. After another disrupted night of sleep, he was in a foul mood. It was a mood that Hutch picked up immediately when he arrived shortly after 7:30 am.

“Somebody playing phone games with you again, partner?” Hutch asked sympathetically, noting the tired look on Starsky’s face and the dark circles under his eyes.

“Yeah, they finally decided to stop around six o’clock this morning.” Starsky growled.

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

“About two hours…give or take.”

“Look, why don’t you take off and get some sleep? I can cover for you with Dobey.” Hutch suggested helpfully.

“Naw, I’ll be okay,” Starsky said. “We got that stake out this afternoon. I can catch some shuteye then.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Starsky said a bit more sharply then he intended to. “Let’s go, Blintz.” He grabbed a thermos of coffee off the kitchen counter. He needed something to help keep him alert. His normal eight hour shift that day felt more like sixteen. By the time he got back home that evening, he was exhausted. He never even made it to his bedroom, falling asleep on his sofa instead.

That didn’t stop the phone calls. They started again shortly after two am. At four am, Starsky took his phone off the hook so he could get some sleep. His front door slamming open at eight am aroused him from his slumber. Hutch crossed the distance between them in two steps and said anxiously, “Are you okay, Starsk?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Starsky said with a weary sigh as he shoved himself to a sitting position.

“You scared the shit out of me when you didn’t show up to pick me up this morning.” Hutch told him sharply. “Then when I tried calling you and couldn’t get through, I got worried.”

“Sorry. I took my phone off the hook around four this morning so I could get some fucking sleep.” Starsky told him. “I must have been so tired I didn’t hear the alarm.”

“I think it’s time we told Dobey about these late night phone calls,” Hutch said “Maybe he can have a tap put on your phone so we can find out who’s making them.”

“I just want them to stop so I can get a decent sleep night’s sleep.” Starsky said wearily.

“We’ll talk to Dobey as soon as we get to the office,” Hutch said “And you can stay with me tonight. At least that way you can get a good night’s sleep.”

“Thanks, Blondie.” Starsky said with a grateful smile. “Let me grab a quick shower and I’ll be ready to go.”

“I’ll call us in and let Dobey know that we’re going to be late.” Hutch reached for the phone while Starsky headed for the bathroom.

Forty-five minutes later, the two detectives were sitting in Captain Dobey’s office, explaining to their superior officer about the phone calls Starsky had been receiving for the past three nights that had been disrupting his sleep. The bulky black man leaned back in his chair when they had finished and said gruffly, “I’ll have a tap put on Starsky’s phone today. Let’s hope it works and we can catch whoever’s doing this.” He looked at his two detectives questioningly. “You’re not working on anything that big right now, are you?”

“No,” Hutch answered for both of them. “I’m beginning to think this is something more personal.”

“How about it, Dave?” Dobey questioned “Any old girlfriends that might be mad at you? Jealous boyfriends? Anything like that?”

“No.” Starsky said firmly, shaking his head. “I haven’t been seeing anybody on a regular basis lately. The last date I even had was a couple of weeks ago.”

“With Ginger?” Hutch asked with a smile.

“No, with Janice.” Starsky told him with an answering smile.

Dobey rolled his eyes as he listened to their banter. Starsky and Hutch both had the reputation of dating more than their share of the ladies. A rumor around headquarters was that they had even shared a few of them. Dobey cleared his throat to remind them of his presence.

“Starsky is going to crash at my place tonight,” Hutch said, turning his attention back to Dobey. “That way he can get some sleep.”

“That’s a good idea,” Dobey agreed. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you two knock off early today? Finish up the reports on your desk and then you can go.”

“Thanks, Captain.” Starsky said, shoving himself to his feet. He left the room with Hutch on his heels. The two detectives slumped down at their shared space at the end of one of the long tables that the department used for desks. For the next three hours, they worked diligently on catching up on their overdue reports.

“That’s it,” Hutch said as he scrawled his signature at the bottom of the page and tossed the last completed report in their out box. “Let’s get out of here, buddy.”

Hutch drove to his Venice Place apartment and the two detectives went inside. Starsky slumped down on the sofa, struggling to stay awake, while Hutch fixed a quick supper of scrambled eggs with onions, cheese, and toast. By the time he was finished eating, Starsky was barely awake.

“Come on, sleeping beauty,” Hutch said with a laugh, hauling Starsky to his feet. “Time for beddie-by.” He assisted Starsky back over to the couch where the other man flopped down on his stomach and immediately fell asleep.

Hutch grabbed a spare blanket out of the hall closet and spread it over his sleeping friend. After washing up the few dishes from their hasty meal, Hutch retired to his bedroom where he read until shortly after eleven pm before turning in for the night.

The insistent ringing in his ear startled Hutch awake. He grabbed for the receiver before the phone could ring again and wake up Starsky. As his eyes darted to the bedside alarm, he noted that it was shortly after three am. “Hello?” he said. “There was no answer, just the sound of someone breathing heavily in his ear. “Who the hell is this and what do you want?” Hutch demanded a hard edge to his voice. There was a sharp click in his ear as whoever was on the other end of the line hung up.

“Who was it?” Starsky’s voice said from the shadows of the doorway.

“I don’t know. I think it was your fan club.” Hutch said gravely. He reached out to switch on the lamp on the nightstand.

“How the hell did they know I was here?” Starsky said. His face paled as he answered his own question. “Shit! They’re watching me.”

“It looks that way,” Hutch admitted grimly. “Or it could just be a coincidence. A wrong number or something.”

“Come on, Hutch. After everything that’s been going on with me for the past three days, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“No.” Hutch admitted. With a determined gesture, he reached down and unplugged the phone line from the jack. “There’s nothing we can do about it tonight. Go back to bed, Starsk. Let’s both get some sleep.”

Chapter Two

The annoying phone calls continued for a few more days and then they stopped as suddenly as they had begun. After eight days of having his sleep disrupted by the phone calls, Starsky had slept through his alarm. The sound of Hutch’s annoyed voice yelling his name, accompanied by the slamming of the front door, aroused Starsky from a deep slumber.

“Shit!” Starsky muttered when he saw the time. He scrambled out of bed. “Sorry, I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” He called over his shoulder at his irritated partner as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, he joined Hutch in the kitchen, still rubbing a towel through his wet curls. Hutch had made a pot of coffee and turned to his partner, arching an eyebrow inquisitively as he handed Starsky a cup. “Phone calls keep you up again all night?”

“No, just the opposite.” Starsky said. “I guess I was so tired that once I fell asleep, I didn’t hear the alarm.” His eyes fell on a plain white envelope without any address or postmark lying on the kitchen table. “What’s that?”

“Fan mail?” Hutch said helpfully. “It was taped to your front door when I got here.”

Sitting down his coffee, Starsky picked up the envelope carefully and took out a single folded sheet of paper. Opening it, he looked at the message it contained and then handed the paper to Hutch without a word.

Hutch took the paper and glanced at it. Four words had been cut out of newspapers and glued to the page. The message read: It’s Not Over Yet. Frowning, Hutch folded the paper and slipped it back into the envelope. Silently, he slipped it into his jacket.

“Whoever’s doing this is getting off on playing games.” Starsky growled, finishing his coffee with one gulp. “The fucking phone calls weren’t bad enough, now they’re gonna start sending me ‘love’ letters?”

“Calm down, Starsky,” Hutch said, grasping his friend’s shoulder and offering what comfort he could. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“How?” Starsky growled sharply. “We couldn’t find out who was making the phone calls! How are we supposed to find out who left me that note?”

“Sooner or later, they’ll make a mistake. We’ll take this to work and have it checked out. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“That’s a long shot and you know it as well as I do.” Starsky grumbled. He sighed wearily as he rubbed his hand across his face. One night without having his sleep disturbed had helped but he was still exhausted, physically and emotionally.

“It’s SOP. You know that.” Hutch pointed out. “Finish getting dressed so we can go.” He finished his own coffee while Starsky retreated to his bedroom to finish dressing.

When they got to headquarters, Hutch took the envelope to the lab to be checked for fingerprints, while Starsky went to the squad room to report the latest development to Captain Dobey.

Dobey glanced up as Hutch joined his partner, sliding into the second chair in front of the Captain’s desk. “I don’t like this. I don’t like it all.” Dobey said gruffly, gazing at his best team of detectives sternly. “It has to be someone with a grudge against Starsky.”

“That takes in about half the city.” Starsky snorted. Starsky and Hutch had the highest arrest record in the department. They had made more than their share of enemies over the years, both as a team and individually.

“Captain, we’ve already checked out the most obvious suspects…Prudholm, Marcus, Striker, Carver…” Hutch said. “They’ve all been cleared. They’re all still locked away behind bars.”

“That doesn’t mean that someone isn’t doing it on their behalf.” Dobey pointed out glumly.

“Or for their own twisted motives.” Starsky snorted. “There are enough crazies out there still walking around free.”

“Yeah, but most of them have it in for both of us.” Hutch reminded him. “Not just you. This seems like something more personal to me.”

“I agree.” Dobey said, eyeing his two detectives. He looked at the more volatile half of the two men. “Are you sure this isn’t just some ex that wants a little pay back?”

“I’m not fucking sure about anything anymore.” Starsky growled in an irritated voice.

“Well, we know whoever it is knows your address and your phone number. Those two things aren’t common knowledge.” Hutch said thoughtfully.

“But, it wouldn’t be hard for somebody to find out if they had the right connections.” Starsky pointed out.

“Unfortunately, Starsky’s right.” Dobey said “We all know how easy it is to find out that kind of information.”

The ringing of the phone on the desk interrupted their conversation. Dobey swept up the receiver, barking, “Dobey.” He listened in silence for several seconds and then said, “You’re sure? No, just bag it and hang on to it.” He hung up and looked at his two men glumly. “There were no prints on the envelope or the letter except for the two of you. And the words could have been cut out of any newspaper.”

“Big surprise there.” Starsky smirked.

“I want you both to watch your backs and let me know immediately if Starsky receives anymore letters or phone calls.” Dobey said. He raised his voice slightly as he pointed a warning finger at both men. “NO PRIVATE PARTIES! IS THAT CLEAR?”

“Crystal.” Starsky said with a grim set to his mouth as he shoved himself to his feet. Hutch followed, throwing an apologetic smile at Dobey as he exited the office.

“Fuck!” Starsky said as he slumped down in his chair, running his fingers through his hair with an aggravated motion. He bounced to his feet, too restless to sit and do nothing. “Let’s see if Huggy’s heard anything on the streets.”

Grabbing their lightweight jackets, the two men left the building. As he walked around the front of his car, Starsky saw the envelope stuck underneath the windshield wiper at the same time Hutch did. With a muttered curse, he grabbed it and ripped it open. Glancing at it briefly, he handed it to Hutch. The message, cut out of newspaper just like the first one, read: Redemption is near.

“SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!” Starsky yelled in frustration, as he slid beneath the wheel, slamming his fist against the dashboard.

“Don’t take it out on the car.” Hutch chided him mildly, as he slipped the second envelope in his jacket.

“I hate the idea of somebody watching me!” Starsky snapped.

‘Well, I don’t exactly like it either, partner.” Hutch reminded him. “Because if they’re watching you, then that means they’re watching me too.”

“I just wish I had some idea who the hell was behind this!”

“We’re gonna have to do what we do best.” Hutch said mildly. “Dig through the dirt until we find out. Let’s go see Huggy.”

They found the tall thin black man busy tending to the lunch crowd that filled the bar. They managed to find two empty stools at the bar and sat own. Diane, one of Huggy’s waitresses, greeted them with a warm smile.

“What can I get you two handsome devils today?” she teased.

“Two cups of coffee.” Hutch told her with an answering smile.

“And one of Huggy’s specials.” Starsky added. “Extra fries.” He glanced at his partner with a shrug of his shoulders, “Hey, we gotta eat and I missed breakfast.”

“Make that two and tell Huggy we need to talk to him.” Hutch replied. Diane nodded and walked away to wait on a demanding customer at the end of the bar.

Starsky flexed his shoulders to relieve some of the tension and tried to relax. This wasn’t the first time he had been stalked by some scumbag with a grudge and he doubted if it would be the last. But, it was not in his nature to passively accept the role of a victim. Anyone who knew Starsky knew that he was anything but passive.

Within a few minutes, Huggy Bear swaggered over to the two detectives. In his normal cocky tone, he said, “And to what do I owe the honor of your company today, my fine friends?”

“Somebody decided to stop calling Starsky on the phone and started leaving him love notes instead.” Hutch explained. “We need you to put the word out on the street and see if anybody’s heard anything about someone with a score to settle with Starsky.”

“You don’t want much, do ya?” Huggy said with a grin. “That’s a pretty tall order. Curly’s not as popular as you are, m’man.”

“Thanks a lot, Hug.” Starsky grumbled, as Diane sat his food down in front of him. Giving Hutch his order, she discreetly disappeared. Whatever the three men were discussing, it wasn’t any of her business. Starsky attacked his meal enthusiastically.

“Hey, I just call ‘em as I see ‘em.” Huggy said good-naturedly. He lowered his voice so that only the two men could hear him. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Hug.” Hutch told him with a grateful smile. “We owe you one.”

“You owe me a lot more than just one.” Huggy reminded him with a snort as he turned and walked away. Huggy wasn’t just an informant, he was also a personal friend of the two detectives. Starsky and Hutch knew he’d do whatever he could to find any information that could help them find out who was harassing Starsky and why.

After finishing their lunch, the two detectives left the bar. As he stepped outside, Starsky stopped in his tracks, stunned. “MY CAR!” He bellowed angrily. “LOOK WHAT SOMEBODY DID TO MY CAR!”

Hutch stood beside his partner gaping in shock at his partner’s vehicle. Both tires on the passenger’s side were flat, slit with a knife from the way it looked to Hutch’s experienced eyes. A large crack spider-webbed the front windshield and something had been thrown on the roof and had leaked down over the sides, eating away at the paint job like acid, leaving a gray sludge where the paint had dissolved.

“We better call it in.” Hutch said, jerking open the passenger side door and leaning in to reach for the microphone hanging beneath the dash. He jerked back with a disgusted grimace when he saw the feces smeared across the leather upholstery. There was no way to deny any longer that this wasn’t a personal vendetta against Starsky. Trying to ignore the putrid odor that filled the inside the vehicle, Hutch grabbed the mike, pulling it outside the car and into the fresh air. Behind him, Starsky was mouthing a colorful vocabulary of obscenities, in at least two different languages.

“This is Zebra three. We need a tow truck for mechanical assistance and a crime lab at The Pits bar.” Hutch said into the mike.

“Were you and Starsky in an accident, Hutch?” the dispatcher’s worried voice came over the air.

“Not exactly, Millie,” Hutch told her. “Somebody trashed Starsky’s car.”

“Ten-four, Hutch. Assistance is on the way.”

Hutch tossed the mike back into the front seat and turned to his highly agitated partner. Starsky halted his frenzied pacing and glared at his partner. His eyes blazed with anger, obviously wanting to punch something but he didn’t have a convenient target to center his rage on.

“MY CAR! MY FUCKING CAR!” he said in an outraged voice, the despair in his eyes only partially masked by the rage. “HOW COULD ANYBODY DO THAT TO MY CAR?” The crack in his voice told Hutch how upset Starsky was at the vandalism to his vehicle.

“I guess this makes it personal, doesn’t it?” Hutch said, slinging a comforting arm over his distraught partner’s shoulders.

“You’re damned straight.” Starsky growled fiercely, his voice cold as ice. “It doesn’t get much more personal than this.”

Chapter Three

Captain Dobey hung up the phone and looked at his two detectives solemnly. Starsky’s expression and posture reflected the smoldering rage that still seethed inside of him. In a gruff voice, Dobey said,

“We have a team questioning people in the other businesses around the Pits but so far nobody has seen anything. The lab confirmed that the tires were cut with a knife and it was brake fluid that was used to do a number on the paint job.” He sighed wearily. “The feces inside the car were most likely from a dog…a large dog.”

“Let me guess,” Hutch said flatly “No prints?”

“You got it.” Dobey said, confirming Hutch’s suspicions.

“I wanna know how the fuck somebody could do that kinda number on my car while it was parked on the street in plain sight and nobody saw anything!” Starsky snapped sharply. “Nobody gives a damn anymore!”

“Cool it, Starsky!” Dobey said just as sharply. “I’m sorry about your car but at least it was your car and not you!”

“This time,” Starsky said sullenly, slouching in his chair and glaring at his Captain as if daring him to prove him wrong.

“This whole thing is getting out of hand,” Dobey said grimly. “Starsky, I want you to go into a safe house until we find out who is behind this.”

“NO WAY!” Starsky yelled, bouncing to his feet and leaning against the desk to stare down his Captain. “I’M NOT LETTING THIS BASTARD GET THE UPPER HAND BY HIDING!”

“It’s for your own safety!” Dobey bellowed, raising his own voice as he stared back at his unruly detective. “This isn’t just anonymous phone calls and a few letters anymore!”

“I’M NOT GOING TO A SAFE HOUSE!” Starsky repeated firmly, his jaw set in a hard line that Dobey knew far too well. Starsky’s mind was made up and nothing was going to make him change it.

“Captain,” Hutch said calmly. “Maybe Starsky is right. Whoever is behind this seems to know every move we make. Going to a safe house isn’t necessary going to keep Starsky any safer than he would be on the streets.” Starsky tossed his partner a grateful look, silently thanking him for his support. The sound of Hutch’s voice helped to calm the brunet’s ragged nerves and helped him find his center.

“What do you suggest?” Dobey grumbled.

“Starsky and I will stick together for the next few days.” Hutch said “And we’ll keep on turning over every rock and digging in every trash can we can find until we find out who is behind this and why!”

Dobey considered Hutch’s suggestion for several long moments and then nodded. “You have seventy-two hours. If you haven’t turned up anything by then, we do it my way. That’s an order!”

Starsky and Hutch exchanged a glance, communicating silently, as they considered Captain Dobey’s ultimatum. Finally, Starsky gave a slight nod, mutely agreeing with what Hutch had in mind.

“Okay, Cap.” Hutch said, speaking for both of them. “Seventy-two hours.” Dobey nodded his agreement as the two detectives rose to their feet and left the office. As the door closed behind them, Starsky looked at Hutch and said,

“Okay, so where do we start?”

“Hell if I know.” Hutch said. “How about going back to your place and putting our heads together? We have to be missing something.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They went downstairs and out to the parking lot where Hutch had left his car. Starsky couldn’t help glancing towards the impound lot where his vandalized Tornio was sitting behind the fence. A forlorn expression swept over his face that tugged at Hutch’s heart. He knew how much his car meant to Starsky. It was his pride and joy. He spent an outrageous amount of money keeping the car in top shape. Hutch might tease him about his ‘striped tomato’, but the truth was, Hutch actually liked Starsky’s car.

“Come on, buddy,” Hutch attempting to cheer him up. “Merle will fix it up as good as new for you.”

Starsky’s only reply was a somber grunt as he climbed into Hutch’s battered LTD. Hutch drove to Starsky’s apartment in silence, both men lost in their own thoughts. At the second floor landing, Starsky dug his keys out of his jeans and unlocked the door. Hutch went in first with Starsky close behind.

“I’ll grab a couple of beers.” Hutch said, heading towards the kitchen. Starsky nodded absently and walked over to the sofa, slumping down on the cushions. He glanced up when Hutch called from the kitchen “Uh…Starsk, come here a sec.”

Starsky shoved himself to his feet and ambled into the kitchen, stopping in shock when he saw the packs of meat sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. He looked at Hutch with a stunned expression. “What the hell?” he muttered, a hard edge creeping into his voice.

“I thought maybe you were getting senile in your old age.” Hutch said lightly. He glanced around the kitchen but other than the packs of meat; nothing seemed to be out of place.

Starsky grabbed the meat and threw it in the trash with a muttered curse. He looked at Hutch, his eyes dark with anger, “They were in my fucking house, Hutch! In my house…touching my things!”

“Why don’t you make sure nothing is missing?” Hutch suggested “And I’ll see if they left anything I can fix to eat.”

“Just order a pizza.” Starsky said. “I’ll pay for it.” Starsky began looking over his apartment, searching for anything out of place or missing. He found another surprise waiting for him in the bedroom. The bedding had been torn off his waterbed and the mattress cut in several places. The water had leaked out on the floor, soaking through carpet. His clothes had been pulled out of the closet and dresser, littering the floor around the bed. Pictures had been pulled from the wall, the frames and the glass broken. Several photographs had been ripped into tiny pieces and scattered around the room. Written on the wall above the dresser, in what appeared to be blood, was the message: You can’t hide. We will find you.

“Shit,” Hutch’s soft voice said from behind Starsky’s left shoulder. “I’ll call it in.” Starsky stood there, his gaze surveying the destruction of his bedroom as Hutch walked back to the living room to call headquarters.

When he had completed his call, they waited in the living room for the crime lab to arrive. When they did, Hutch told the officer in charge to tell Captain Dobey that the two detectives could be reached at Hutch’s apartment and he quickly ushered Starsky out of the building.

Starsky slouched in the passenger’s seat with his head leaned back and his eyes closed but Hutch knew he wasn’t sleeping. He could see the rigid set of Starsky’s shoulders and the tight pinched edges around his mouth. The brunet was struggling to keep the rage he felt bottled inside of himself. Starsky opened his eyes when Hutch pulled up in front of his Venice Place apartment and turned off the ignition.

“Let’s hope they didn’t trash your place too.” Starsky growled as he climbed out of the car.

“Hey, you’re the one they seem to be mad at, not me.” Hutch reminded him with an apologetic smile.

“I feel like I’m walking around with a target on my back.” Starsky snarled as the two men climbed the steps to Hutch’s second floor apartment.

Hutch reached up over the doorframe for the key. He opened the door and reached to switch on the overhead light. As Hutch shut the door behind them, locking it securely, Starsky said quietly, “Hey, Hutch…”

When the blond turned to look at him with a questioning glance, Starsky nodded his head towards the kitchen table where a package wrapped in plain brown paper was sitting. Cautiously, the two men approached the package. Starsky’s name was written across the paper in black marker.

“Don’t touch it,” Hutch warned Starsky unnecessarily, “It could be rigged.”

“It ain’t rigged.” Starsky said confidently

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because they want to play games, they don’t want to hurt me,” Starsky said. In an ominous voice, he added “Not yet anyway.” Hutch grabbed his wrist as he reached out to tear open the wrapping paper.

“You sure you wanna do this, buddy?” Hutch cautioned.

“I have to know what’s in there, Blintz.” Starsky said, “It might be something to help us figure out who’s behind all this.”

“It’s your call, pal,” Hutch watched uneasily as Starsky carefully tore open the package and lifted the lid. Starsky’s face paled and he took a step back from the package when the contents were revealed.

Glancing over his shoulder, Hutch saw that the box contained a dead rat with its throat slit and two plastic dolls, one blond and one brunet, both dressed like cops. The brunet doll was drenched with blood, presumably from the rat.

Starsky staggered backwards and sat down on the sofa, burying his face in his hands. Hutch sighed and sat down beside his partner. “It’s okay, buddy.” Hutch said, gently rubbing Starsky’s back to help calm him down. “We’ll get through this…together, just like always.”

“You’re not the one they’re after, Blintz,” Starsky mumbled in a flat toneless voice. He raised his head to look at Hutch with a dejected expression in his eyes. “You’re not the one they’re playing these fucking games with! What the hell do they want? Why don’t they just come after me and get it over with?”

“They want to get under your skin…to rattle you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s working.” Starsky snorted in a discouraged voice.

“Come on.” Hutch said, pulling Starsky to his feet and guiding him to the bathroom. “Why don’t you take a shower and then try to get some sleep? You’re exhausted. We’ll deal with this shit tomorrow.”

Shoulders slumped in defeat; Starsky disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. Hutch waited until he heard the sound of the shower running before turning and walking over to the phone to call Captain Dobey about his own unexpected package.

“How’s Starsky holding up?” Dobey growled when Hutch had finished telling him about the vandalism at Starsky’s apartment and the package that had been left at Hutch’s apartment.

“About as well as can be expected.” Hutch said. “He’s on edge. We both are. Damn it, Captain! There’s gotta be something to tell us who’s behind this!”

“No fingerprints…nothing! Whoever it is, they’re careful not to leave any evidence behind that we can trace.”

“This isn’t just some random crazy.” Hutch said glumly. “This whole thing is too well thought out, too well planned.”

“I agree. I still think Starsky should go to a safe house until we find out who is behind this.”

“He’s not going to agree to that, Cap.” Hutch said “We’ve got a better chance of finding them if we’re out there on the streets ourselves looking for them.”

“I’ve got some men going back over your files. Maybe they’ll see something the two of you missed.” Dobey said, “They’re also cross checking the most likely suspects, Prudolm, Marcus, Stiller…”

“Let me know if you find out anything.” Hutch said somberly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a migraine coming on, a dull ache centering behind his eyes.

“What are you and Starsky going to do?”

“I think I’m gonna get him out of town for a couple of days, give him a chance to get some rest.”

“That sounds like a good idea. Just make sure and let me know where you’re at.”

“Will do.” Hutch agreed, sighing as he hung up the phone. Now all he had to do was convince his stubborn partner to leave town for a few days. They both needed a break from the stress of the past two weeks. Protecting Starsky was, and always would be, Hutch’s first priority.

Chapter 4

Starsky stared out of the window, watching the passing scenery with feigned interest. They had left the city early that morning and had been driving for almost two hours. Hutch had not revealed their destination and Starsky hadn’t bothered to ask.

Starsky had reluctantly agreed to Hutch’s suggestion of leaving town for a few days in order to get some rest and recharge. Starsky knew his own limitations. He knew that the stress of the past couple of weeks had left him volatile and dangerous to be around. Captain Dobey had every available man he could spare following up leads, so the case was in competent hands during their absence.

“Hey, Blintz,” Starsky said quietly. “How about telling me where we’re going?”

“One of Huggy’s cousins has a place on the beach he said we could use for a few days.” Hutch told him, concentrating on his driving as he followed the carefully memorized directions.

“The beach? Great, I can work on my tan.” Starsky quipped with a crooked smile.

Spotting the turn off he’d been looking for, Hutch turned left and followed a rutted dirt road for ten miles to a private beach with no trespassing signs clearly posted. He pulled up in front of a small cottage that sat along the edge of the beach and turned off the engine.

The two detectives climbed out of the car and automatically surveyed their surroundings. The uncluttered beach stretched for miles both directions with no other residences in sight. The deserted location appeared quiet and peaceful. The house seemed to be in good repair, even though the shingles were weather-beaten and worn. An attached deck ran along the front of the house, facing the beach.

Hutch dug a set of keys out of his pocket and climbed the steps to the deck. Starsky opened the trunk, pulling out their overnight bags while Hutch unlocked the front door. Grabbing the bags, he followed his partner into the cottage.

The interior was dim with that closed in smell that Starsky knew meant the cottage hadn’t been used in quite some time. Hutch pulled open the heavy drapes that covered the windows, flooding the room with sunlight. The cottage consisted of one large room with a kitchenette at one end and a stone fireplace at the other. A double bed sat tucked away in the corner with a worn sofa placed in the middle of the room facing the fireplace.

“Not bad.” Hutch said, glancing around the room. “It kinda reminds me of Dobey’s cabin up at Pine Lake.”

“Well, I’ll take the beach over the mountains any day.” Starsky said, dropping their bags to the floor just inside the doorway. The two men went back out to the car to carry in the rest of the supplies they had brought with them. Hutch put away their food while Starsky stowed the rest of their gear.

Starsky grabbed a bag of chips that Hutch had laid on the table and went out onto the deck. When Hutch joined him a few minutes later, he found his partner sitting on the steps, eating chips and staring out at the ocean.

“How ya doing, pal?” Hutch asked as he sank down on the step beside Starsky, giving his leg a comforting squeeze.

“I’ve been better.” Starsky admitted with a heavy sigh.

“You and me both, partner. You and me both.” Hutch agreed. “Okay, so what do we have so far? The whole thing starts with late night hang up calls. That goes on for almost a week and then escalates to nasty love letters and surprise packages.”

“Don’t forget what they did to my car.” Starsky reminded him glumly.

“I didn’t forget about your car,” Hutch said with a rueful smile. “So what does all that tell us? That somebody is playing head games with you for their own twisted pleasure. And it’s too personal to be just some crackpot that picked you at random to harass.”

“And they’re watching us. Don’t forget that.” Starsky said, “Because they know every move we make and when to make their little deliveries without being caught.”

“And the most likely suspects are safely locked away and there doesn’t seem to be any connection to them and somebody on the outside working on their behalf.”

“And whoever is doing it is smart enough not to leave any prints or any other evidence that can help us bust ‘em.”

“And they have the connections to be able to find out where I live and get my phone number.”

“And you’re sure that it’s not an ex-girlfriend or somebody you know with an axe to grind?”

“I’m sure. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Starsky grumbled.

“We’re not working on anything hot enough to warrant something like this and we don’t have any big court cases on the docket.” Hutch mused. His voice grew frustrated “So where does that leave us?”

“Same place we were before.” Starsky growled “With absolutely nothing.”

“Starsk,” Hutch said thoughtfully “What if there’s more than one person involved? I mean, it would make sense…”

“Yeah, I guess,” Starsky said “But, the more people involved, the easier it would be for somebody to mess up and make a mistake.”

“What about the messages they’ve been leaving you? Think it’s just another way to get under your skin or is there some kinda warning there?”

“I don’t know about you,” Starsky said sarcastically “But I’d call a dead rat and a dark haired doll dressed like a cop and drenched in blood a pretty clear warning.”

“Not that,” Hutch said impatiently “I mean the notes and the writing in your bedroom.”

“I guess is depends on what they mean by redemption is near and telling me that I can’t hide from them.”

“Them.” Hutch repeated, growing excited as a thought suddenly occurred to him, ‘The message on your bedroom wall clearly said we. That implies more than one person being involved.”

“Terrific. You’re just a ray of sunshine, aren’t ya?” Starsky muttered. “Let’s hope one of them makes a mistake soon or I’m going be ready for Cabrillo State.”

“Come on, Starsky,” Hutch said, slapping him on the shoulder with a grin. “I ain’t gonna let that happen. Remember what happened the last time you were there.”

“Don’t remind me.” Starsky said, shoving himself to his feet and brushing off the seat of his jeans with his hand. “My ass was black and blue for a week from all those damn shots.”

Disappointed that their brainstorming efforts hadn’t produced more positive results, Hutch sighed as he stood up and followed his partner back into the cottage. They spent the rest of the day relaxing and enjoying each other’s company, turning in early and getting a decent night’s sleep for a change.

Hutch was the first one awake the next morning. He had always been an early riser whereas Starsky would sleep until ten or later if he wasn’t disturbed. Since Starsky needed the rest, Hutch decided to let him sleep. Since it was a clear sunny day, Hutch decided to take a run along the beach. At least that was his intention until he stepped out onto the deck.

He was stunned to find the entire deck covered with black roses. There had to be at least three dozen roses scattered across the boards. Hutch felt a cold chill gripping at his chest. He knew two things about black roses. One, they were supposed to signify death and two, roses had to be special ordered in order to get them in black. He knew this was another warning, a mute taunt that they were still being watched. They couldn’t hide in this secluded hideaway from whoever was set on tormenting his partner.

Hutch cursed under his breath as he quickly gathered up the evidence, tossing the flowers into a black trash bag before Starsky saw them. Although Hutch had no intention of hiding what he’d found from his partner, there was no need for Starsky to have the blatant warning thrown in his face. He was tying the bag closed when Starsky’s voice came from the shadows of the doorway, startling him.

“What’s going on, Blondie? Spring cleaning?”

“Not exactly.” Hutch said with an awkward smile. “Somebody left us another little calling card sometime during the night.”

“What?” Starsky exclaimed, his eyes widening in alarm. “How the hell did they find us clear out here?”

“They had to have followed us somehow.” Hutch said grimly, as he sat the bag in the corner and turned to face his partner. “But I don’t know how they did it. I didn’t spot any tail.”

“What did they leave this time?” Starsky demanded.

“About three dozen black roses scattered all over the deck.” Hutch told him in a resigned tone.

“Shit…” Starsky suddenly darted from the deck and stroke over to Hutch’s car with a determined gait. Hutch watched with a frown as Starsky started examining the car, finally dropping to his back on the sound to look at the underside of the vehicle. After a few minutes, Starsky scooted out from beneath the car and shoved himself to his feet. Rejoining his partner on the porch, Starsky opened his palm and showed Hutch the tracking device he had found stuck to the underside of the car. “That explains how they found us.” The brunet said smugly.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Hutch asked, leaving the decision up to his partner.

“We might as well pack up and head back to the city.” Starsky said grimly. “They know where we are and this place is too isolated to get back-up in a hurry if we need it. I’d rather take my chances back in the city.”

“Makes sense to me.” Hutch agreed with a nod of his head. “Let’s rustle up some breakfast and then get the car packed up.” Starsky nodded and silently followed his partner back into the cottage, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

Two hours later, the two detectives were on their way back to Bay City. The tracking device on Hutch’s car proved that whoever was harassing Starsky was determined to continue their mind games. Hutch could only hope that they would be able to find out who it was before something happened to Starsky.

Chapter 5

Starsky slumped on the soda as he ate the last piece of pizza. His gaze drifted to the television. He watched a few minutes of I Was A Teenage Vampire before losing interest in the movie. He had shared a twelve pack of beer with Hutch and was feeling mellow and relaxed. They had been back in the city for almost three days without anymore anonymous phone calls, vaguely threatening letters, or unexpected packages. But, Starsky knew better than to let down his guard. He had a feeling this was just the eye of the storm.

He was on edge, jumping at any unexpected noises and waiting for something to happen. He hated the feeling of being watched by unseen eyes. He started every time a phone rang, either at home or at work. He was still only getting a few hours sleep each night, too keyed up to sleep soundly. If his tormenter’s intentions were to drive him crazy, wondering constantly what they had in mind next, they were doing a bang up job.

He glanced over at Hutch who was dozing in the lounge chair, his long legs sprawled out in front of him and his mouth hanging part way open. Starsky couldn’t help but smile at the picture his partner presented. Hutch hadn’t left his side for over a week and, although he was grateful for the big blond’s support and concern, Starsky was starting to feel hemmed in.

“Hey, Blondie,” Starsky said, tossing one of the throw pillows from the couch at his slumbering partner. “Wake up!” Hutch started, awake in an instant, looking around the room wildly. Starsky chuckled softly as he shoved himself to his feet. “Time for bed, sleeping beauty.” the brunet teased him. “You sleep in that chair all night and your back is gonna be telling you about it in the morning.” Starsky roused himself enough to grab a pillow and blanket out of the hall closet for his partner, dumping the bedding on the arm of the sofa. “See ya in the morning, partner.” Hutch grunted in reply as he shuffled over to the sofa while Starsky continued through the doorway and into his bedroom.

Stripping off his clothes and dropping them to the floor beside his bed, Starsky strolled into the adjoining bathroom and reached in to turn on the shower, adjusting the water to a comfortable temperature. Stepping beneath the spray, he raised his face into the water and closed his eyes, letting the hot water wash over him, soothing his weary muscles and relaxing him. Grabbing the bar of soap from the tray, he lathered up, performing the familiar ritual in silence.

Turning to rinse the lather from his body, he picked up his shampoo and squeezed a generous portion out into his palm, rubbing it briskly through his thick dark curls. As he tilted his head beneath the water to rinse the shampoo out of his hair, he heard a thumping sound coming from the living room. The noise brought a smile to his face as he pictured his clumsy partner running into the furniture as he turned out the lights.

Turning off the water, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the dowel, drying his body and then toweling the moisture out of his hair. Wrapping the towel around his slender waist, he brushed his teeth and used the commode before going back into his bedroom. He heard another thump outside his bedroom door.

“Hey, Hutch,” He called out as he reached for the door to pull it open. “What are you doing out there?” He was knocked off balance when the bedroom door was suddenly pushed open from the other side unexpectedly. Starsky only had a few seconds to register the two figures coming at him from the darkened living room before his head exploded in pain. He slumped to the floor at the intruders’ feet, unconscious.

The early morning sunlight was creeping through the kitchen windows when Hutch groaned and slowly opened his eyes. He closed them again almost immediately as the pounding in his head almost overwhelmed him. A wave of nausea forced his eyes open again as he scrambled to his feet, making a mad dash for the bathroom. He barely made it to the commode before falling to his knees and retching violently. It was several long minutes before the heaving stopped and he was able to raise his aching head.

Falling back against the tub, Hutch cradled his head in his hands trying to remember how much he’d had to drink the night before. He didn’t remember drinking enough to cause a hangover this bad. Slowly, he became aware of a strange taste in his mouth and a burning in his nostrils that had nothing to do with vomiting his guts out.

His head shot up and his eyes widened in alarm as he recognized the lingering aftereffects of being chloroformed. “STARSKY!” he bellowed as he staggered to his feet and stumbled back into his partner’s bedroom. He stopped, glancing around the room and trying to control the frantic pounding of his heart. The room was empty and the bed didn’t look as if Starsky had slept in it. Fear clutched at his heart, a chill crawling up his spine, when he saw Starsky’s clothes lying on the floor beside bed. “STARSKY!” he yelled again, as he began a frantic, desperate search for his missing partner.

There was no sign of Starsky anywhere in the apartment. The only thing Hutch saw that seemed out of place was a discarded towel lying beside the front door. Jerking open the front door, Hutch stumbled out onto the deck and down the steps towards the Tornio, which was still parked in the driveway in front of Hutch’s car. He almost didn’t see the piece of paper tucked neatly underneath the windshield wiper on his car.

Grabbing the note, Hutch opened it, his face growing pale at the message it contained. Five chilling words that threatened to rip Hutch’s heart out of his chest. He belongs to us now. Clutching the note in his fist, Hutch turned and ran back into the apartment to call headquarters. He savagely punched out the numbers, misdialing the first time in his haste and having to dial again. He managed to tell the dispatcher that answered the phone to send a crime team and Captain Dobey to Starsky’s address immediately, code three, Officer missing.

Slumping down on the sofa, Hutch took several deep gasping breathes trying to get his racing heart under control and to calm his rattled nervous system. It didn’t do much good. The only thing that would calm him down was to find his abducted partner before it was too late. His hands were trembling so badly that he spilled the coffee when he tried to make a pot while he was waiting for help to arrive.

Finally, the crime lab arrived along with Captain Dobey. While the team started examining the apartment to clues about Starsky’s disappearance, Captain Dobey quietly led the blond half of his best team outside where they could talk privately.

“What happened?” Dobey demanded, his voice gruff yet gentle.

“I don’t know.” Hutch said in frustration. “Starsky and I both had a couple of beers and I fell asleep in the chair. Starsky woke me up when he got ready to go to bed and I fell back to sleep on the sofa. That’s all I remember until I woke up this morning with the worst hangover I’ve ever had…it wasn’t until I puked my guts out that I realized I’d been chloroformed.” He ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “I couldn’t find Starsky anywhere. When I came outside, I found that note left on my car.”

“Was there any evidence of a struggle?”

“Not that I could see. It looks like they caught Starsky by surprise.” He looked at his commanding officer solemnly. “Starsky’s clothes were lying on the floor beside the bed and there was towel on the floor by the front door. I think they surprised him while he was in the shower or just after he got out.”

“Captain Dobey,” one of the lab crew said from the open doorway behind them, inclining his head back towards the interior of the apartment, indicating that they had found something.

Captain Dobey and Hutch hurriedly followed the tech back to Starsky’s bedroom where they found another technician kneeling beside a large blood stain on the bedroom carpet. In his anxiety earlier over his missing partner, Hutch hadn’t even noticed it. The technician was taking samples of the semi-dry blood to compare it to Starsky’s blood type.

“He’s hurt…” Hutch said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “They hurt him.”

“Take it easy, Hutchinson.” Dobey growled “We’ll find him.”

“How?” Hutch demanded, his voice rising with anger. “We don’t even have any clue who is behind this!”

“Let’s just wait and see if the lab boys turn up anything.” Dobey said calmly, taking Hutch by the arm and leading him back into the living room and away from the sight of the bloodstain on the carpet.

Dobey knew that nothing would stop Hutch from going out on the streets to search for his partner. He wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t sleep, and he wouldn’t rest until he found Starsky, even if that meant tearing the city apart and rousting every snitch he had.

It was in circumstances like these that Hutch was a dangerous predator, focused solely on his prey.

Chapter 6

Starsky forced his eyes open, panicking when all he could see was darkness. As his aching head cleared, he realized that he was blindfolded. He also realized that he was lying on a cold dirt surface that chilled his naked body. The only warmth came from a body lying on top of him, and a hungry mouth against his. Instinctively, Starsky began struggling, but his hands were tied securely behind his back, and there was no slack in the ropes.

Starsky strained against the ropes, but they were strong and had been tied by an expert, with no give whatsoever. His body ached from the strain on his shoulders and from a beating he’d obviously received while he was unconscious. Panic was forming in his chest, choking him. He had to stay calm so he could think.

The body writhing on top of him was a female. She was dressed in some kind of heavy gown that scratched against Starsky’s skin uncomfortably. Her hands were fondling him intimately, even as her mouth tried to devour his own. Starsky’s body remained unresponsive, repulsed by the woman’s blatant and unwanted molestation.

Suddenly, a chill filled the air and Starsky heard the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. The woman covering him gave a startled yelp as she was pulled away from Starsky’s body. The sound of flesh hitting flesh could be clearly heard. A woman’s voice hissed angrily, “Get her out of here and make sure she’s punished for her indiscretion!”

Starsky sensed someone kneeling beside him, he could smell the scent of lilacs, and then he felt the tender touch of the woman’s fingertips gliding down his cheek. “So, you’re awake. I’m sorry about that. She won’t bother you again.”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me what’s going on?” Starsky muttered “Or how about taking off this blindfold so I can see you?”

“All in good time,” The woman said with a soft chuckle. “You’ll have all the answers you need soon.”

“I’m a cop. It’s not a good idea to snatch a cop,” Starsky said with more confidence than he actually felt. “If you let me go, we can just forget the whole thing.”

“Not likely.” The woman said smugly. “I’ve gone too much trouble to get you here. Why would I let you go?”

“What do you want with me?”

“You’ll see…when it’s time all will be revealed.”

“Terrific.” Starsky muttered, not in the mood to play word games with her. He flinched when she ran her fingertips across his lips, startling him at the unexpected touch. The sound of her mocking laughter filled the air as her footsteps walked away. Starsky strained to listen for unfamiliar sounds that might help him get a fix on his situation.

Concentrating on his other senses since he couldn’t see past the blindfold, his mind began to note the things he could identify. He vaguely remembered the intruders pushing their way into his bedroom, which explained why he was nude. The air around him was cold and he could hear the sound of crickets in the background so he assumed he was either outdoors or in an enclosed area with an easy access to the outdoors.

There were no traffic sounds nearby so he didn’t think he was in the city any longer. If he was in the city, he was in a secluded area where he wouldn’t discovered accidentally by a casual passer-by.

There was a curious blend of odors in the air, some pleasant, some not so pleasant. Sweat, the smell of unwashed bodies, food cooking somewhere, wood smoke from an open fire, stale urine and feces, vomit and the musty smell of decay. Starsky could also detect the heavy aroma of marijuana and alcohol lingering in the air.

Starsky tested the ropes binding his hands again but it was a wasted effort. All he got for his efforts was chafed wrists as his futile struggles caused the rough hemp of the rope to cut into his skin. His head still ached from where he’d been knocked out during his abduction. His stomach and his rib cage both hurt where he’d obviously been kicked repeatedly while he was unconscious.

Where are you, Hutch? Now would be a good time to bust in here and find me, Blintz. The thought of his partner brought a new worry to mind. Had they hurt Hutch when they abducted him from his apartment? Hutch, where are you? Are you okay, Blondie? Are you hurt?

Starsky tried to force himself to remain calm, to take slow cleansing breathes, as he relaxed his tense muscles. All he could do was wait, wait and see what his captors had in mind for him. He was positive that whatever it was, he wasn’t going to like it. He knew there were at least two men and two women involved and, God only knew, how many more there might be. Obviously, the second woman, the one who had talked to him, appeared to be one of the people in charge.

Starsky let his mind drift. At the moment, he saw no way out of his captivity. He would have to count on the Calvary coming to his rescue before it was too late. He needed Hutch but Hutch wasn’t there. Starsky knew that Hutch would be out there looking for him, turning over every rock and using every source of information he had to find him. Starsky just hoped he didn’t take too long. He had an uneasy feeling that whatever his captors had planned, it would happen soon. Starsky prayed that he had the strength to hold on until Hutch got there and saved him.

He must have dozed off because he was suddenly jarred awake by the shock of cold water drenching his body. He gasped in shock as his body shivered violently in reaction to the assault. Suddenly, he felt unseen hands grabbing him, pulling him to his knees. The sharp blade of a knife against his throat and the fingers twisted in his hair warned him not to struggle.

He sensed at least three people manhandling him. One of them untied the ropes, freeing his arms momentarily. His numbed limbs fell to his sides, pricking painfully as the blood began circulating again. The knife at his throat bit deeper against his skin as the other hands began pulling a heavy course garment over his head. He felt his arms being forced into the long loose sleeves. When they were finished, his arms were twisted behind his back once more and bound tightly. A hard kick in the small of his back sent him sprawling against the ground, face first.

Before he had time to brace himself, feet and fists were suddenly pounding his body. Starsky curled up in a fetal position, tucking his head down against his chest, in a vain attempt to protect the more vulnerable parts of his antimony. A grunt of pain escaped his lips but he refused to cry out as the vicious attack continued until he finally lost consciousness.

Sometime later, he slowly regained consciousness, moaning softly as the pain in his battered body crept into his mind. He could taste the blood in his mouth and feel the blood that dripped down the side of his face. His throat was dry and parched as he swallowed, trying to work up enough saliva to spit the blood out of his mouth.

A gentle hand at the back of his head and the scent of lilacs alerted him to the woman’s presence at his side. He felt the rim of a tin cup touching his lips and opened his mouth, drinking greedily the water that she offered. When he had drunk his fill, he turned his head away, ignoring her. A sharp slap across his cheek stunned him, demanding his undivided attention.

“Don’t try to ignore me, David,” the woman ordered. “I don’t like being ignored.”

“I wouldn’t want it to look like I didn’t appreciate your hospitality.” Starsky growled through tightly clenched teeth. “Is this the way you treat all your guests?”

“Only the special ones.” The woman replied with a laugh that sent a chill down his spine. Her touch turned gentle as she caressed his cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you, David but it’s not up to me.”

“Yeah? Who’s it up to then?”

“You ask too many questions. Sometimes it’s better not to know.” She said cryptically.

“Terrific,” Starsky muttered sullenly. “I don’t suppose a guy could get anything to eat around here. I seem to have missed breakfast this morning.” Even as he asked the question, he already knew the answer.

“I’m afraid not. Food is the last thing that should concern you right now.”

“Tell that to my stomach,” Starsky quipped. “It has a mind of its own.” His voice slurred slightly as Starsky felt a sudden wave of vertigo wash over him. In spite of the blindfold, he felt dizzy and disoriented, light headed and nauseated. Groaning, he realized that there must have been some kind of drug in the water. As he faded into the darkness, he heard the woman say,

“Soon it will be time to begin. Sleep for now, my dark knight.”

Starsky felt her lips gently brushing against his forehead as he fell back into the void. His mind was tormented by strange nightmares, images of faceless creatures chasing him through the darkness. Hands that looked more like claws reaching out to grab him, hurting him. His muscles cramped severely, pulling his knees up against his chest as he struggled to draw enough air into his lungs to breathe comfortably. In his drugged sleep, his head tossed restlessly back and forth as soft whimpers escaped from his throat.

In his dream, Starsky found himself standing at the edge of a steep cliff overlooking a bottomless pit. Behind him, he felt the danger closing in, crowding him closer and closer to the edge of the abyss. Loose gravel shifted beneath his feet and he suddenly felt himself falling forward with a silent scream of terror ripping from his chest.

Starsky awoke with a panicked start, cold sweat bathing his face. His heart was pounding with fear and the air around him seemed colder than ever. Through his drugged haze, he could hear the monotonous drone of several voices echoing in the background.

As his mind cleared and the words they were saying became clear, Starsky felt the terror that clutched at his heart and invaded his mind.

“Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon…” the eerie chanting filled the air around him plunging Starsky back into the midst of his worst nightmare. A silent scream echoed in his mind as his body began to tremble, unable to control the overwhelming fear that swept over him.

Chapter 7

Starsky tried to swallow. His mouth and throat were parched and dry. He was so thirsty but he was afraid to drink anything that was offered. He knew anything he ate or drank would probably be drugged. It was all part of the game, an effective way to keep him calm and under control.

He forced his eyes open just a slit, enough to see his surroundings but not enough to alert anyone to the fact that he was awake. He was lying on something hard with his hands stretched out to the side and securely bound. His feet were bound tightly and another rope was wrapped around his waist, securely holding him in one position.

Starsky realized that he seemed to be in a large cavernous room that was dimly lit by the flickering candles set around the platform where he was lying. The monotone chanting drilled into his brain, making his head throb with pain. He was vaguely aware of several shadowy figures gathered in a semi-circle several feet away, partially hidden in the darkness.

No! God please! Not again! Not this! The thought raced through his mind. The last time Simon Marcus’ cult of bloodthirsty followers had abducted him, Starsky had barely survived the ordeal. He’d suffered from nightmares and irrational fears for months afterwards. The lingering effects of the trauma had left scars that still haunted him to this day.

A woman stepped forward into the circle of light that surrounded Starsky. She was breathtakingly beautiful with clear, unblemished skin, dark brown eyes and long unruly dark curls that hung half way down her back. Unlike most of Marcus’ followers, she wore a white robe with the inverted red cross on the front instead of the customary black garment. Even before she spoke, Starsky knew this was the woman he’d spoken to earlier.

“You may as well open your eyes the rest of the way, David,” she said in a soft deceptive voice that still managed to make her words sound like an order. “I know you’re awake.” A faint smile crossed her lips as Starsky reluctantly obeyed. “From the look on your face, I can see that some of your questions have been answered.”

“I still have one.” Starsky said, his voice sounding hoarse and raspy.

“What’s that?” she asked, arching her brow inquisitively?

“Who the hell are you?”

“Is that really so important?”

“Humor me.”

She took a step closer until she was standing beside Starsky. She slipped her hand inside the folds of the despised robe he wore and fondled his genitals making Starsky jerk involuntarily in response to her touch. Leaning down so that she was speaking directly into his ear, she whispered in a seductive voice, “I go by many names…Morning Star, Dark Angel,” she paused, squeezing his testicles painfully. A hiss of pain escaped his lips, as she added, “But my real name is Josie. Josie Marcus, and I am here to do my father’s bidding.”

Starsky felt his heart pounding frantically in his chest. If this woman was Simon Marcus’ daughter, as she claimed, she was as dangerous and, possibly as psychotic, as her father was. Starsky knew that whatever they had in mind for him would be painful and degrading. He hoped he had the stamina and the courage to endure it.

Josie removed her hand after another painful squeeze that made Starsky yelp in pain. Picking up one of the candles that surrounded the platform, she held it in one hand and held her other hand over the flame, without flinching, even as the smell of burned flesh filled the air. “Let the ceremony begin!” she said loudly, pulling back her hand and replacing the candle in its holder.

Instinctively, Starsky pulled against the ropes holding him prisoner to no avail. Slowly, the other disciples came forward. The first one in line, a tall thin man with a hooked nose, reached out and ripped open the front of Starsky’s robe, baring his chest. Picking up one of the candles, he chanted Simon’s name as he tipped the candle and let the hot wax drip on Starsky’s exposed skin.

Starsky flinched but did not utter a sound as the wax burned his flesh. One by one, the followers stepped forward, each of them taking a candle and following a similar ritual. Sweat glistened on Starsky’s face and chest, but he refused to cry out in pain. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. By the time the line of followers had finished, Starsky’s chest was streaked with dried wax and he was breathing heavily. The robed figures returned to the shadows and resumed their constant mindless chanting.

Josie stepped forward once more and leaned over him, looking directly into his eyes. “Your death had been pre-ordained. My father has seen it in his dreams. The Black Knight will fall and bring about the end of the White Knight.” She leaned closer and Starsky cried out in pain as she sank her teeth into the side of his neck. When she straightened up, her mouth was stained with his blood. “Your blood will be spilled on the holy altar and give us strength.”

The man with the hooked nose stepped forward again and suddenly grabbed Starsky’s head in a headlock, preventing him from moving away as Josie help an ornate silver goblet to his lips. Starsky clenched his mouth shut, refusing to drink, until the man used one hand to pinch his nostrils shut, forcing him to open his mouth in order to breathe. As soon as he opened his lips, Josie poured the contents of the goblet into his mouth. Starsky was forced to either swallow the thick, putrid smelling liquid to keep from choking.

Laughing, Josie threw the goblet against the wall behind Starsky’s head as the man released his head. “Sleep well, Dark Knight.” She whispered, brushing her lips against Starsky’s mouth. “When the moon rises, we will continue.”

Starsky’s vision began to blur and loud buzzing sound filled his head as she turned and walked away, followed by the other disciples. Almost immediately, severe cramps knotted his muscles, causing painful spasms. Since he was still tied to their makeshift altar, he couldn’t curl up into a fetal position like he wanted to in order to ease the pain. All he could do was suffer through the debilitating spasms. Deep moans escaped from his throat but there was nobody around to hear him.

The cramps were accompanied by gut-wrenching nausea. Starsky turned his head, retching violently, but there was nothing in his stomach to bring up except the bitter taste of bile and stomach acid. His suffering seemed to continue for hours, leaving him weak and exhausted. Finally, the pain eased up enough for him to fall into a drugged stupor.

Slowly, Starsky became aware of movement in the room around him. Through heavy lidded eyes, he watched as one of the black robed figures built a large fire in a pit near the foot of the platform. He could hear the chanting as the rest of the congregation filed into the room and gathered into the familiar semi-circle around him. Josie stepped out of the darkness and moved to his side.

“Are you well rested, David?” she asked with a sneer. “I hope so. It’s time for us to continue.”

“You’ll never get away with this. Even if you kill me, the rest of the department will hunt you down and you’ll end up in jail right along with your father.”

“Even if that happens, it will be too late for you. My father’s will shall prevail. His prophecy will be fulfilled. The Black Knight will meet his destiny.”

“You’re as crazy as your father.” Starsky said with more bravado than he actually felt. “Murder is still murder.”

“Only to the people in your world. Our world is the kingdom of hell where my father rules.”

“You got that right.” Starsky said. He regretted his words immediately when he saw Josie’s eyes darken threateningly. She reached out and grabbed a handful of his curls, pulling back on his head until his throat was bared. Leaning down, she sank her teeth into his flesh once more, drawing blood. Starsky yelled out in a combination of rage and pain. Releasing his hair and straightening up, she spit a mouthful of blood in his face.

“Don’t provoke me, David. You have no idea how painful I can make things for you.”

“Oh, I think I do. I got a taste of that the last time you lunatics grabbed me.” Starsky said. “You didn’t break me then and you won’t break me now.” Starsky hoped that his words held a grain of truth and were not just the ramblings of a frightened man.

“Brave words from a man in your position.” Josie said smugly. She smiled. A cold dangerous smile. “We’ll see how long it takes you to regret saying that.” She reached into the deep folds of her robe and pulled out a knife with a long thin blade, holding it so that Starsky could see it clearly.

“You gonna use that on me?” he challenged her recklessly. “Go ahead. I don’t go down that easy.”

“You know,” she said, continuing as if he had not spoken. “There are so many delightful ways to cause pain. Excruciating pain.” she leaned forward and licked some of the blood off his face, “I’m going to enjoy hearing you scream…”

“Why don’t you just fucking kill me and get it over with, you crazy bitch?” Starsky snarled, his patience worn thin by her taunting.

“That’s not the way the game is played.” She said with a shrill laugh. “It’s played by my rules, not yours.”

“Don’t you mean your father’s rules?”

Josie shrugged, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “My father’s not here but I am still his avenger.”

Starsky closed his eyes, weary of playing word games with her. He resigned himself to his fate. Where are you, Hutch? I need you! I need you! His eyes flew open and a scream ripped from his throat as he felt a deep searing pain in his left shoulder. Josie smiled as she twisted the blade of the knife that she had plunged into his body. Starsky yelled in pain as she twisted the knife again before pulling it back out. The blackness settled around him and he retreated into it without protest.

Chapter 8

The sensation of something soft and furry brushing against his face jerked Starsky awake. He screamed involuntarily when his eyes flew open to face the large rat crawling on the stone altar beside him. Startled by the sound, the rat squealed in protest and scurried away, disappearing into the darkness. Starsky took several deep noisy breathes, trying to calm his racing heart. A shudder swept through his frame. He hated rats, bats and other nocturnal creatures of the night.

His gaze drifted towards the ceiling, seeking out the dark shadowy corners where he could hear the fluttering of wings and hear the soft squeaking sounds. He hoped those flying rodents stayed in the corners and away from him. Bats and rats were not a combination he was capable of dealing with right now.

He tried to clear the cobwebs out of his head so he could focus on his condition. The lingering effects of the drugs left him groggy and disoriented. The knife wound in his shoulder throbbed with each beat of his heart and his throat hurt where Josie had bitten him hard enough to draw blood. He couldn’t take a deep breath because of the sharp pain in his side from his cracked ribs. His whole body felt like one giant bruise. A full bladder added to his discomfort, demanding attention.

“Hutch…” the word slipped from his dry cracked lips before he could stop himself, the sound of the name bringing him some small measure of comfort. Starsky knew that the blond dynamo would be going nuts searching for him, threatening and intimidating anyone who might be able to give him any information on Starsky’s whereabouts. Hutch had found him before, just in the nick of time, and all Starsky could do was pray for that particular miracle to repeat itself.

Josie suddenly appeared out of the darkness. Starsky flinched as she approached, warily of her touch, a touch that brought pain without any pleasure. She smiled faintly as she reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand.

“Poor David,” she said “Aren’t you feeling well?”

“Fuck you…” Starsky muttered, too tired to be polite or to play nice.

“Brave words coming from a man in your position.” Josie reminded him, her laughter filling the air. “Are you really that brave, David? Or are you scared shitless?”

“I’m not afraid to die.” Starsky told her, the intensity of his gaze remaining steady and confident. “My death won’t change anything.”

“Oh, but it will. Your death will be our rebirth into our new kingdom.”

“Lady, you need help. All my death will do is get you a prison sentence.” A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “And you’re crazy if you think my partner won’t come after you. He’ll follow you into hell, if that’s what it takes, to avenge my death.”

“But without you by his side, the White Knight will lose. Together, the two of you are unstoppable but, alone, you are just ordinary men.” A hard look twisted her lovely face into something primal and evil. “The two of you should never have taken my father away from us. His dreams continue to show us the way and his dreams for your fate are now my dreams.”

“Terrific…” Starsky muttered in a resigned voice. He knew there was no way to reach her. She was as lost to reason as the rest of the unholy disciples that followed her father’s visions. As his daughter, she had been trained since childhood to follow in his footsteps, her mind twisted and filled with darkness.

“I brought you some company so you wouldn’t be alone until later when we continue the ceremony.” Josie said softly, a demented look in her eyes that unnerved Starsky.

He watched as she reached inside the folds of her robe. His breath caught in his throat and his heart began to pound frantically when she pulled a snake from beneath the robe and gently laid it on his stomach. The snake was a mature adult, measuring almost two feet long with a heavy body and triangular shaped head. It was a pale tan color with darker blotches on the back and a thick tail with a rattle at the end.

Starsky held his breath and remained as still as possible, not wanting to agitate the reptile as it began to crawl over his body. Sweat beaded on his face and dripped into his eyes from the strain of remaining motionlessly. He barely noticed as Josie disappeared into the shadows. Starsky tried not to flinch as the snake crawled closer to his face, the tongue flicking in and out of the mouth. After what seemed like an eternity to the bound man, the snake slithered down over the edge of the altar and disappeared.

Starsky let out the breath he’d been holding in a long whoosh of air and tried to calm down. The front of his robe was wet where his bladder had released, unnoticed, during his encounter with the snake. He knew he was lucky that he hadn’t been bitten. The snake was just another way to torment him, a mental abuse designed to drive him closer to the edge of his tolerance.

Damn it, Hutch! Where are you? Get me out of this nightmare before I lose my mind! Starsky closed his eyes and tried to reach out with his mind, searching for that psychic connection that the two detectives seemed to share. Images of Hutch danced through his mind, helping to ground him to reality.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back in the city, Hutch had been searching relentlessly for any clue to his partner’s abduction. Most of his usual contacts and snitches claimed to know nothing about Starsky’s kidnapping. Even Huggy Bear was coming up empty. Hutch had finally returned to headquarters to go over old case files once more, looking for anything he might have missed earlier that would help him to find his missing partner. Instinct told Hutch that Starsky was in grave danger and that time was running out for the dark haired man.

When the phone beside him rang, he picked it up automatically, barking into the receiver, “Hutchinson.”

“The Black Knight is with the Dark Angel.” a barely audible voice whispered in his ear.

“Who is this?” Hutch snapped, frantically motioning to another detective in the squad room to put a trace on the call. “Where is my partner?”

“The White Knight will fail. The Black Knight is no more.” There was a sharp click in his ear as the mysterious caller hung up. Hutch slammed down the receiver in anger and frustration. He knew they hadn’t stayed on the line long enough for the call to be traced even before the other detective trying to trace the call shook his head negatively.

Bouncing to his feet, Hutch stormed into Dobey’s office without bothering to knock. The burly black man looked up from his desk with a glare, bellowing,

“Don’t you remember how to knock?”

“Captain, I just got a call from someone who knows where Starsky is.” Hutch said “But they didn’t identify themselves.”

“Did you trace the call?”

“Not enough time.” Hutch said, as he slumped down into a chair in front of the desk, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“Did they say anything useful?”

“Some rubbish about the Black Knight being with the Dark Angel.” Hutch grumbled. Suddenly, his face lit up as a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Wait a minute,” he said, thinking out loud. “They said the Black Knight and the Dark Angel. And something about The White Knight failing, that the Black Knight was no more.” Hutch’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked at Dobey solemnly. “Simon Marcus called me the White Knight before. Starsky is obviously the Black Knight.”

“Marcus? I thought you checked him out. He’s still in prison, along with the rest of his crazy cult that snatched Starsky before.”