MISPLACED TRUST

Nick comes to town, bringing more trouble and heartache for Starsky. This time it could prove fatal.

Beta Read by ProvencePuss

A/N: This story is Pre-Iron Mike and Pre-Starsky’s Brother. In some ways, I suppose it could be considered an A/U story since it doesn’t follow known canon.

CHAPTER 1

A loud pounding at his front door pulled Starsky from a deep slumber. He tried to ignore it but the noise persisted. Grumbling a few choice words under his breath, he shoved back the cover and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His sleep gritted eyes sought out the clock sitting on his nightstand. Seven am. Who the hell was knocking on his door this early in the morning on his day off? He knew it wasn’t Hutch. His partner would just use his own key to let himself in, besides Hutch was out of town until the following afternoon enjoying an extended weekend with his latest girlfriend.

Annoyed at the insistent pounding, Starsky yelled “Yeah! Yeah! I’m coming!”

Flipping the lock, he jerked open the door and growled “This better be fucking important!”

“Hey, Davy!” Starsky’s brother, Nicky, said enthusiastically, much too cheerful for Starsky this early in the morning. “Geeze…did I wake you up?” He brushed past his older brother and stepped into the apartment, immediately making his way into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator to investigate the contents.

“Nicky, it’s seven o’clock in the morning.” Starsky pointed out sarcastically, watching his younger brother making himself right at home.

“Oh, crap. I always get confused about the time difference between here and New York.” Nicky said with a lopsided grin identical to the one that Starsky often displayed. He grabbed a carton of orange juice out of the refrigerator and a clean glass out of the cabinet, pouring himself a glassful.

“What are you doing here, Nicky?” Starsky asked in a tired voice. It had been almost three am before he’d finally fell asleep and his rude awakening hadn’t put him in a sociable mood.

“Hey, aren’t you glad to see your little brother?” Nicky said, taking a long swallow of his OJ.

“Sorry,” Starsky muttered apologetically, “Of course I’m glad to see you. It’s just that I didn’t get in till late last night and I planned on sleeping in this morning since it’s my day off.”

“Hot date, huh?” Nicky said with a leer. “Is she still here? I guess I should have called first.”

“Naw, that’s okay and no, it wasn’t a hot date. I didn’t get off work until late.” Starsky said. “I need some coffee.” He walked into the kitchen and began making a pot of coffee. Everyone who knew Starsky knew that he was not a morning person and that he needed at least two cups of coffee in the morning before he was ready to face the day.

“Hey, great!” Nicky said, moving into the living room and flopping down on the sofa. He propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Since you have the day off, we can just hang out and catch up.”

“What are you doing here, Nick?” Starsky asked, repeating his earlier question. The two brothers were no longer as close as they were when they were children. They had rarely seen each other in the past twenty years, not since Starsky had been sent to California to live with his Aunt and Uncle when he was only thirteen and Nick was nine.

The last time Starsky had seen Nicky had been almost three years ago when he’d shown up in Bay City unexpectedly. But, then Nicky’s visits were always unannounced.

Trouble had followed when Nicky got involved with a local mob boss and Starsky was caught in the middle. The brothers had exchanged heated words and Nicky had thrown it up in Starsky’s face that he had never been there for him. Their lives had turned out very different. While Starsky was a decorated and respected police officer, Nicky was a petty criminal with a twisted set of values.

“Just needed a change of scenery for a while. It’s cold in New York this time of year in case you’ve forgotten.” Nick said lightly. Starsky wasn’t sure if he believed Nicky or not but he decided not to press it. Nicky was still his brother and Starsky longed for the closeness that they once shared.

“How long are you planning to stay?”

“I don’t know. A few days, maybe a couple of weeks.” Nicky said evasively. “Who knows? Depends on how things go, ya know?”

“How you’d get here?”

“Took a cab from the bus station.” Nicky replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Stashed my bags in a locker. I’ll have to go pick ‘em up.”

“Why didn’t you bring them with you?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d let me crash here.”

“Of course you can crash here…but you get the couch.” Starsky replied with a thin smile, remembering how Nicky kept trying to steal Starsky’s bed during his last visit.

“I figured that.” Nicky said dryly with a pout. Starsky and Nicky both shared a certain boyish charm. But, where Starsky’s charm was natural and easy, Nicky’s charm was more calculated and artificial. While their physical appearance might readily identify them as brothers, their personalities were dramatically different. “You sure I’m not going to be in the way? I wouldn’t want to cramp your style with the ladies.”

Starsky snickered as he poured himself a cup of freshly brewed coffee. “I haven’t had much time for the ladies lately, been too busy at work.”

“We’ll have to do something about that while I’m here.” Nicky said with a grin. “Can’t have my big brother losing his touch.”

“Hey, I ain’t losing my touch.” Starsky said defensively, smiling at Nicky’s good-natured teasing. “Hutch and I went out with a couple of stewardess Friday night.”“Oh, yeah…Hutch.” Nicky said with a barely concealed scowl. It was no secret that Hutch and Nicky didn’t care for each other. Hutch could see through the carefully constructed façade that Nicky presented to his brother, while Nicky was jealous of the close relationship between the two partners. In spite of their estrangement, Nicky was still Starsky’s brother and he felt that he should come first in his brother’s loyalties.

Starsky chose to ignore Nicky’s displeasure at the mention of Hutch’s name. He was well aware of how much Nicky resented Hutch. The truth was, Hutch closer to Starsky than Nicky would ever be. Starsky and Hutch were brothers in every sense of the word even if they weren’t related by blood. Still, Starsky felt a bond and a responsibility to his younger brother. Even though he knew he wasn’t to blame for the way Nicky’s life had turned out, he still felt guilty for not being there for him like he should have been. As a result, he tried to overlook Nicky’s shortcomings.

“You hungry?” Starsky asked, as he rummaged through the refrigerator for the ingredients for omelets.

“You bet. I’m starving.”

His comment brought a smile to Starsky’s face. That was another thing the two brothers had in common. They both had healthy appetites and loved junk food. Starsky gathered together eggs, cheese, some mushrooms, some green peppers, onions and some bacon to make his loaded omelets, a personal breakfast favorite but one he seldom had time to make in the mornings. Starsky’s Aunt had made sure that he knew how to cook and he had several specialties that he only made for special friends, usually Hutch.

Nicky smirked as he sat back and watched his brother cooking breakfast. Another difference between the two brothers was that Nicky tended to be messy and disorganized while Starsky liked things neat and organized. As he cooked, Starsky carefully wiped up spills as they occurred and even washed the bowls when he was finished with them. Nicky could barely boil water without burning it. It was a good thing Davy knew how to cook. Nicky got tired of wasting his money eating out all the time. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Davy had better come through for him. He just needed to wait for the right time to ask him for the money.

“Where is that partner of yours anyway?” Nicky asked, trying to sound interested. “I thought you two were joined at the hip.”

Starsky chuckled at the remark. It wasn’t the first time someone had referred to him and Hutch that way. “I told you that we had dates with a couple of stewardesses Friday night,” Starsky said “Hutch hit it off with his date, so he took a couple of days off to spend some more time with her. He’ll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“Ole Blondie’s off getting him some, huh?” Nicky said with a laugh. That was good to know. It gave him over twenty-four hours to get Davy to give him the money he needed to get out of the jam he was in. Without Hutch around to interfere, he’d have plenty of time to work on Davy.

Starsky ignored Nicky’s comment about Hutch as he finished cooking the omelets. “You wanna eat, get off your butt and make some toast. Then you can set the table.” Starsky ordered him playfully.

“Yes, Ma.” Nicky replied, shoving himself to his feet with a heavy sigh. At home, Ma waited on Nicky shamelessly and he enjoyed it. Too bad Davy wasn’t more like Ma. But then, Nicky could pull the wool over his mother’s eyes easily. It wasn’t as easy to do that with Davy. Hell, Ma believed Nicky worked at some crummy minimum wage job back home. She had no idea how he really made his money or how much he made.

The two brothers finished preparing their meal in silence and then sat down at the table to eat. Neither of them talked as they concentrated on their food. Finally, Nicky pushed aside his empty plate and said,

“That was great, Davy. You’re gonna make somebody a good little wife someday.”

“Very funny, hotshot.” Starsky said with a grin. “Just for that, you can wash the dishes.”

“Oh, hell…” Nicky muttered sullenly. He hated doing any chores around the house but he knew if he refused, it would only annoy Davy. He even yelled at Nick if he tossed his towel on the floor after a shower. Nicky knew he needed to be on his best behavior to stay on Davy’s good side until he got what he came after. Pasting a phony smile on his face, he started to gather up the dirty plates and silverware. While he started washing the dishes, Starsky went into the bathroom to take a shower and to shave.

Forty-five minutes later, Starsky came back into the living room, dressed for the day in his usual style; a blue tee shirt and a pair of skintight faded jeans that were threadbare at the knees. His thick dark curls still glistened with moisture from his shower.

“So what are we gonna do today, Davy?” Nicky asked in an excited voice. He was used to going out, making deals, seeing people. Hanging around Davy’s apartment watching TV wasn’t his idea of a good time.

“I guess we can run down to the bus station and get your bags.” Starsky said, digging in his pants pocket for his keys. Although he would have worn his gun out of habit at any other time, with Nicky along, he decided to leave his weapon at home.

As the two brothers left the apartment and started to climb down the steps to the street, Nicky said, “Hey, can I drive?”

“You? Drive my car?” Starsky said with a snort. “Not on your life.”

Nicky pouted as they finished climbing down the steps. Davy just wasn’t any fun at all. He had a really hot set of wheels but he wouldn’t let Nicky touch it when he was in town. Starsky’s pride and joy sat parked at the curb, the custom paint job gleaming in the sun. It was a 1976 Ford Torino that was painted a bright Candy Apple Red. A foot wide racing Stripe ran across the roof from side to side just in front of the rear window, then down both sides and forward, tapering to points at the front of the vehicle. The only other person that Nicky had ever seen Davy let drive his precious car was Hutch and that wasn’t very often.

Starsky unlocked the door on the passenger’s side for Nicky and then crossed around the front of the car to unlock the other door and slid beneath the wheel. The powerful V8 engine roared to life with a twist of the key. Starsky pulled away from the curb with a burst of speed and headed towards the downtown bus station.

When they arrived at their destination, Nicky led the way to a low row of rental lockers. Locating the correct one, he unlocked it and pulled out two bags, a suitcase and a smaller overnight case. He handed Starsky the suitcase but kept hold of the overnight case. The case was securely locked but there was no sense in taking any chances. If Davy ever found out what was in the overnight bag, he would really be pissed. They stowed the luggage in the Torino’s trunk.

Nicky convinced Starsky to cruise the downtown streets of Bay City for a couple of hours before heading back to his apartment. He knew that Starsky was bored cruising the same streets that he cruised everyday on his job but Nicky was enjoying the sights, especially the pretty girls.

“You know, Nicky, you could rent a car for a couple of days.” Starsky suggested “So you can come and go as you please.”

“And miss visiting with my big brother? No way.” Nicky said. He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t have enough money to rent a car. Until he found a buyer for the contents of the overnight bag, he was pretty much broke. Hopefully, his finances would improve when he hit big brother up for a ‘loan.’

Finally, Starsky had enough cruising and headed for home in spite of Nicky’s objections. Nicky spent the rest of the day being bored, stuck on the sofa watching TV, while Starsky tended to some housekeeping chores; including doing his laundry and mopping the kitchen floor. That evening he decided to use part of his rapidly dwindling funds to call a cab and go clubbing for a while. It sure beat staying in Starsky’s apartment for another mind-numbing minute. Starsky gave him a spare key so he could get in if he got home after his brother went to bed.

Nicky had a good time, drinking heavily. He was highly intoxicated when he finally got back around three am. Letting himself into the apartment as quietly as possible, he discovered that Starsky had left a pillow and a blanket lying on the sofa for him and a lamp on the end table turned on. He stumbled into the bathroom to get rid of some of the alcohol flowing through his veins, then went back into the living room.

His eyes narrowed speculatively when his gaze fell on the desk sitting in the corner of the room. He knew from a previous visit that Davy kept his checkbook, unpaid bills, receipts and other important documents in the desk. Crossing the room as quietly as he could, Nicky began rummaging through the drawers. He didn’t find anything to interest him in the two big drawers on the side. The middle drawer was locked.

Smiling, Nicky pulled a pocketknife out of his jacket and popped the lock. Inside the locked drawer, he found just what he was looking for. Davy’s checkbook and his bankbook. Taking both items out of the drawer, he opened the checkbook to check the balance in the account. A couple of hundred bucks. Not much. The bankbook for Davy’s saving account wasn’t much better. It had just a little over a thousand dollars in it. Nicky knew that Davy had a couple of credit cards. Nicky pondered how he could get his hands on them.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Davy’s voice said from the darkness behind him, startling Nicky. Guiltily, he dropped the checkbook and bankbook down on the desk.

“I was…uh…looking for an envelope.” Nicky lied easily “I thought I might write Ma a letter.”

“Bullshit, Nicky.” Starsky said a hard edge to his voice. “You’re not going to find an envelope in my checkbook.”

“Okay, okay. I saw ‘em lying there and got curious, that’s all. What you gonna do? Arrest me?”

“I could. That drawer was locked. Looks like you’ve added picking locks to your many talents.” Although Starsky’s voice was calm and level, Nicky could tell that he was angry. Before Nicky could think of another excuse for snooping, Starsky said, “Is that why you’re here, Nicky? You want money again?”

“Well, now that you mention it, I could use five thousand dollars.” Nicky said. “I got a chance to get in on a really sweet deal out here but I need some cash to buy my way in.”

“I don’t have five thousand dollars to give you.” Starsky said coldly “And I wouldn’t give it to you, even if I did. I told you the last time, Nicky. No more money. You might be able to fool Ma with your stories but not me.”

“Come on, Davy! I really need it.” Nicky whined

“No.” Starsky said, turning to head back to his bedroom. “And I think you better find a motel to stay at in the morning.”

“NO!” Nicky yelled, running to Starsky and grabbing his arm. “Please, Davy…you gotta help me!”

“I’m tired of helping bail you out of trouble, little brother.” Starsky said coldly. “This time you’re on your own.”

“You bastard!” Nicky yelled. Without even thinking about it, he pulled back his fist and punched Starsky in the jaw. Starsky stumbled backwards, his foot slipping on the hardwood floor. He fell backwards, hitting his head on the corner of the coffee table as he tumbled to the floor. He lay on the floor, unconscious, as a pool of blood began to form beneath his head.

Nicky stared at his brother, panic clawing at his throat. He knew he was in big trouble now. Then his eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to him, a way to save his own hide and still get the money he needed. He could make it look like a break-in that went bad. Quickly, he put his plan into action.

Hurrying into Davy’s bedroom, he found his wallet lying on the nightstand. Opening it, he found eighty dollars and Starsky’s credit cards. Smiling, Nicky slipped the wallet in his pocket. Returning to the living room, he grabbed the checkbook and bankbook from the top of the desk. He tossed the contents of the other drawers on the floor and then overturned the coffee table and knocked over the lamp on the table to make it look as if Starsky had surprised someone trying to rob him.

Pausing to inspect the scene, he glanced back at his unconscious, badly bleeding brother. Shit! If Davy wakes up, he’ll tell them what really happened! I can’t let that happen! Glancing around the room, his gaze settled on Starsky’s gun, still in the holster hanging on the peg beside the front door. Sorry, Davy. But, I can’t let you tell them it was me. Nicky reached out and pulled the Beretta out of the holster.

Shutting off any feelings he still harbored for his older brother, Nicky’s instinct for self-preservation took over. Kneeling beside his older brother, he began to beat him viciously about the head with the butt of his own gun. He didn’t stop until Starsky’s face was unrecognizable and his own hands were stained with his brother’s blood.

CHAPTER 2

Hutch was whistling to himself as he climbed the steps that led to his second floor apartment. He had enjoyed his extended weekend with the new lady in his life but he was glad to be back home. Unlocking his apartment door, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He puttered around, checking his plants and giving them some TLC.

When he was finished, he picked up the phone to call Starsky and let him know that he was home. A busy signal buzzed in his ear. Assuming that Starsky was talking to someone, he hung up the phone and decided to try again in a few minutes. Wandering into the kitchen, he put on a pot of coffee. While it was brewing, he tried calling his partner again. Still busy. When he tried again fifteen minutes later and still got a busy signal, he tried to shake the uneasy feeling that suddenly swept over him.

Hutch tried to tell himself that he was being paranoid when he decided to drive over to Starsky’s apartment to check on him. But, he had learned to listen to his gut feeling when it came to his partner’s well being. Starsky seemed to attract trouble like a magnet, especially when Hutch wasn’t around to watch his back.

Fifteen minutes, he pulled up in front of Starsky’s apartment, automatically noting that the Torino was parked in its usual spot out front. Bounding up the steps to the front deck in front of Starsky’s apartment, Hutch knocked loudly on the front door. When nobody answered, he dug his spare key out of his jeans and inserted it in the lock, startled to discover that the front door was already unlocked.

Pushing the door open cautiously, Hutch called out, “Starsky? Hey, Starsk! You home?” There was no answer, only an eerie silence that sent Hutch’s senses into full alert. Pulling his gun out from beneath his lightweight jacket, he carefully stepped into the apartment.

His eyes widened in alarm when he saw the disarray in the living room. His view of the room was partially obstructed by the odd angle of the sofa, which had been shoved out of place. His heart began to pound frantically, his throat tightening with fear, when he eased around the edge of the sofa and saw Starsky lying on the floor in front of the sofa. His face was so badly battered that the only way Hutch could identify the body as his partner was the thick dark curls and the clothing.

Slamming his gun back into his holster, he rushed to his partner’s side and knelt down beside him. He was afraid to touch him, not sure how badly Starsky was hurt, afraid to find out that he was dead. His hand trembled as he pressed his fingers against the side of Starsky’s neck. He was relieved to find a pulse. It was weak and thready but it was there. As he leaned down closer to his friend, he could hear the raspy gasping sounds as Starsky struggled to breathe.

Bounding to his feet, Hutch’s eyes wildly swept around the room, finally finding the phone lying on the floor beside the overturned coffee table, the receiver off the hook. Grabbing the phone, he clicked the cradle to get a dial tone and immediately punched in the number for police headquarters. When the operator’s voice came on the line, Hutch said rapidly, “I need an ambulance, a lab team and Captain Dobey at Detective David Starsky’s residence immediately. 3133 North Riverside. Officer down! I repeat officer down!” He hung up without waiting for a confirmation and sank to his knees beside his severely injured partner again.

Hutch gently eased Starsky’s head and upper torso into his lap, setting him up slightly to ease his labored breathing. “Hang on, Starsky.” Hutch said in a soft, soothing voice even though he doubted if Starsky could hear him. “Just hang on, babe…help’s on the way.” Hutch choked back a sob that tore from his throat. “Don’t you dare die on me, Starsky! Please don’t die!”

Hutch had seen enough victims of violence during his career to know that Starsky’s injuries were life threatening. His features were barely recognizable and his injuries had bled profusely. Starsky’s skin was cold and clammy, the dark-haired detective was obviously in shock. Starsky’s labored breathing and weak, irregular pulse supported that theory. Hutch saw Starsky’s gun lying on the floor a few feet away, covered with blood, obviously the weapon that had been used for the brutal beating. Hutch made a solemn vow to find out who had done this and make sure that they paid for it, and paid dearly.

Hutch felt a catch in his breathing as he found himself wondering just how long Starsky had been lying there, unconscious and slowly bleeding, his condition slowly growing more critical with each minute that passed without the medical assistance he so desperately needed. Some of the blood that had soaked into the carpet where he lay had already congealed and turned dark, mute evidence that the vicious attack had probably occurred several hours before Hutch’s arrival.

Hutch breathed a deep sigh of relief when he finally heard the sound of sirens in the distance, steadily growing louder as they approached. Within minutes, loud voices and pounding footsteps could be heard outside. The apartment began to fill with people, two paramedics, several uniformed officers, a fully equipped lab team, and, finally, Captain Dobey.

The paramedics immediately rushed to Starsky’s side and began to assess his condition. Hutch reluctantly moved aside to give them room to work.

“What the hell happened here?” Dobey demanded, appearing at Hutch’s side. He reached out to clasp the blond detective’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. He knew how close the two partners were and it was easy to see the fear and concern in the big blond’s eyes.

“I don’t know.” Hutch admitted his voice a barely controlled growl. “I got back in town about an hour and a half ago. I went to my place first and tried to call Starsk to let him know I was back but I kept getting a busy signal. So, I came over here and found him.” Hutch turned to look at his Captain, his eyes reflecting the inner turmoil he felt, “He’s hurt bad, Cap…real bad.”

“I know, son.” Dobey said “But he’s still alive and we both know how stubborn he is. He’ll pull through this.”

“This is mine, Cap.” Hutch hissed, his tone making clear that there was no point arguing. “I want the bastard that did this to him.”

“So do I.” Dobey said gruffly. He had a soft spot in his heart for his best team of detectives. Over the years, they had become like sons to the burly black man but he would never tell them that. An uneasy silence fell between the two men as they turned their attention back to the paramedics who were working frantically to prepare Starsky for transport of the hospital. Snatches of their conversation drifted through the air.

“Blood pressure dropping rapidly…pulse weak and thready…multiple facial fractures…possible skull fracture…respiration shallow and labored…”

Hutch ignored the other activity going on around him as the lab team began searching the apartment for evidence that could tell them what had happened and who was responsible. His attention was focused solely on his injured partner.

The paramedics started an IV and threaded a breathing tube down Starsky’s throat before loading him onto the stretcher to rush him to the hospital. Without a second thought, Hutch followed the gurney out of the apartment. Luckily, the two paramedics had dealt with the two detectives in the past when one of them was injured, so they didn’t argue when Hutch climbed into the back of the ambulance beside Starsky. One of the paramedics climbed into the back with the two detectives to monitor Starsky’s condition, while the second one slid underneath the wheel and sped towards the closest hospital with the siren blaring and the lights flashing.

Hutch kept his eyes fixed on Starsky’s battered face and sent up a silent prayer for him to hold on till they got to the hospital. They were only five minutes away when Starsky suddenly went into a seizure. Hutch had to restrain himself from reaching out to hold the thrashing body on the gurney. He watched anxiously as the paramedic injected medication directly into the IV line running into Starsky’s right arm. As the ambulance screeched to halt at the emergency room entrance, Starsky’s body went limp. “He’s not breathing! We’re losing him!” the paramedic tending to him shouted out to his partner.

The back door to the ambulance flew open and the gurney was roughly pulled out of the vehicle and rushed through the sliding glass doors into the hospital. Hutch rushed to keep up but was stopped from going into the cubicle where Starsky was taken.

“The doctor will take care of your friend.” A petite nurse with blonde hair said, grabbing the big man’s arm. “Why don’t you come with me? I need some information.”

Hutch looked at the woman numbly, his mind struggling to process what she had said. With a dejected sigh, he followed her through a doorway into the waiting room. The last thing he saw before the curtain was curtly drawn shut around the gurney was a team of medical personnel working desperately over his fallen partner.

Glancing around at the crowded waiting room, the nurse looked at Hutch and frowned. “Let me see if I can find you some scrubs to put on before we get started.” She suggested. “You need to clean up a little.”

For the first time, Hutch became aware of his appearance. His hands were stained with Starsky’s blood, so were his clothes where he’d held his partner in his lap until help arrived. Hutch felt his knees starting to shake as he realized that he could lose his friend this time. The nurse hurried down the hallway to a linen cart sitting in front of one of the rooms. She returned with a set of light blue scrubs, a towel, and a washcloth. Handing them to Hutch, she directed him to the men’s room to change.

Hutch disappeared into the restroom and leaned heavily against the sink, giving in to his fear and breathing rapidly as his adrenaline level subsided. Regaining his composure, he looked in the mirror, barely noticing the worried lines etched on his face, seeing only the terror reflected in his eyes. Turning on the faucets, he watched the water that turned red as it washed Starsky’s blood down the drain.

Stripping off his jeans and shirt, Hutch shoved them in the trashcan, knowing he would never wear them again. Slipping on the scrubs, he left the washroom and returned to the nurse’s station to complete the paperwork needed to admit Starsky to the hospital. Hutch knew it was meant to distract him while the doctors worked on Starsky but part of his mind remained locked on the image of his partner not breathing as he was rushed into the emergency room.

“Doctor Franklin was in the hospital when the call came in about your friend. He’ll be in charge of the case since he’s familiar with Mr. Starsky’s medical history.” The nurse told Hutch as she took the completed paperwork he handed her.

“Thank God.” Hutch said in a relieved voice. He trusted Doctor Franklin and he knew that Starsky did too. The good doctor had saved Starsky’s life three years ago when he was given a slow-acting poison meant to kill him within twenty-four hours. Turning away from the nurse, Hutch began to pace the waiting room floor, glancing constantly at the swinging doors that led into the emergency room.

It wasn’t long before the waiting room began to fill up with other police officers as word leaked out about the attack on Starsky. Even officers who didn’t particularly care for the rowdy detective were there to show their support for a fallen comrade. Captain Dobey arrived shortly, accompanied by Huggy Bear. The two black men immediately went to Hutch’s side, easing him over to a nearby sofa and convincing him to sit down to wait. Whenever either one of them was hurt, Dobey and Huggy could both be counted on to be there to console and comfort the other partner.

“Did they find anything at Starsky’s place?” Hutch asked, struggling to keep his voice calm and level.

“Not yet.” Dobey told him. “There were no signs of forced entry. It looks like Starsky opened the door to whoever attacked him.”

“That means it had to be someone he knew and trusted.” Hutch said thoughtfully.

“It looks like the motive may have been robbery, plain and simple.” Dobey said, “Starsky’s wallet was missing and his desk had been ransacked.”

“He kept his checkbook and his bankbook in the desk. Contact his bank and have them put a freeze on his accounts…his credit cards too.” Hutch said.

“From the evidence at the scene, the lab boys think he might have laid there for at least ten or twelve hours after he was attacked.” Dobey said solemnly.

“Shit!” Hutch said, closing his eyes against the pain that twisted at his heart at the thought of his friend, alone and in pain, for so long before Hutch found him. “If he dies, it’s all my fault. I should have been there with him instead of out of town.”

“Hey, Blondie,” Huggy said, “You can’t go blaming yourself for this. You know Curly finds trouble without even trying.”

“But if I’d been here, I would have found him sooner!” Hutch said, not ready to give up his guilt just yet. Dobey and Huggy exchanged a glance. They knew the only one who could ease Hutch’s conscience was Starsky and he was in no condition to do that right now. They settled in for another long, lonely vigil.

Time drags in a hospital waiting room, especially when you don’t know how badly the person you’re waiting for news about is hurt. A minute seems more like an hour and an hour seems like an eternity. Doctors stepped through those swinging doors periodically but it was never the doctor that Hutch longed to see. Several times, he approached the nurse’s station demanding news about Starsky but the answer was always the same. They didn’t know anything. The doctor would be out to talk to them as soon as possible. As the hours passed, most of the other officers who had gathered at the hospital either went back to work or home, leaving Hutch, Huggy and Dobey alone to wait for the doctor.

Huggy kept everybody supplied with coffee from the vending machine. None of the three friends said much, each of them wrapped up in their own thoughts. Of the three men gathered in the waiting room, Huggy had known Starsky the longest. They had met while they were both teenagers, just after Starsky’s mother had sent him to California to live with his Aunt and his Uncle. He’d been through a lot with the curly haired man with the lopsided smile but it never got any easier.

But, as hard as it was for Huggy when Starsky was hurt, he knew that it was devastating to Hutch. Huggy had never known two men as close as Starsky and Hutch were. They were more than just friends, more than just partners, they were soul mates in every sense of the word. If either one of them was to die, Huggy had no doubt that the other one would soon follow, unable to go on alone without his best friend at his side. The bond that held them together was indestructible. They had almost a psychic connection between them, feeling the other one’s pain, or sensing when the other one was in danger. They even had the unnerving habit of communicating without speech half the time, saying more with a glance or a nod than if they had carried on a lengthy conversation. When one of them was suffering alone, like Hutch was now, nobody else could console them.

It was almost eight hours later before the swinging doors opened and Doctor Franklin finally stepped into the waiting room. The man looked exhausted and his scrubs were streaked with blood. Hutch bounded to his feet immediately and approached the doctor as the door swung shut behind him.

“Is he still alive?” Hutch demanded before the doctor could speak.

“Yes.” Doctor Franklin said quietly, noting the fear that still lurked in Hutch’s eyes. “Let’s go somewhere else where we can talk privately.” he suggested, gesturing down a hallway to the left.

Hutch looked visibly shaken at the Doctor’s words. He knew it was never promising when the doctor wanted to talk to you ‘privately’. The three friends silently followed Doctor Franklin to an empty office at the end of the hallway. They stepped inside, turning to face the doctor expectantly as he shut the door behind them.

“It was touch and go for awhile, and his condition is still critical, but David is still alive.” Doctor Franklin said, trying to put their minds at ease.

“How bad is it?” Hutch demanded, not in the mood for any lengthy explanations.

“He had several broken bones in his face including his jaw, his nose, his left cheekbone, and the socket around his left eye. Those have all been successfully repaired but they will take a while to heal. Our biggest concern is that David does have a severe concussion and a depressed skull fracture on the right side of his head that has caused his brain to swell. The brain is also severely bruised at the site of the injury.”

“What does that mean?” Huggy asked quietly.

“David is in a coma. He took a brutal beating with a blunt object to his head and face. He may or may not wake up, and even if he does, there’s a possibility of brain damage.” Doctor Franklin told them solemnly, noting the looks of dismay and fear that crossed the faces of the three men.

“Can I see him? Please?” Hutch asked in a hushed voice that was strained with emotion.

“He’s being set up in the ICU as we speak. I’ve already informed the nurses that you’re to be allowed unlimited access to his room.” Doctor Franklin smiled, remembering the last time he had treated Starsky. “I realize that your presence is going to be a big factor in his recovery.” With Hutch by his side, Starsky was a much more cooperative patient. And this time, Starsky was going to need all the help he could get to recover from his injuries.

CHAPTER 3

Hutch forced himself to remain calm as he entered Starsky’s room in the ICU. His head was heavily bandaged with a stray curl poking out here and there. Hutch found himself wondering how much of Starsky’s hair they had to cut in order to operate. Starsky always hated it when they had to cut his hair to put in stitches or any other kind of medical procedure. The rest of his face wasn’t bandaged but it was severely bruised and swollen, his familiar features distorted.

Both of Starsky’s eyes were black and blue and swollen shut. There was a neat row of tiny stitches underneath his left eyelid where the doctors had gone in to repair the broken cheekbone and damage to his eye socket. His nose was swollen and bruised, shoved crookedly to one side, with a nasal tube helping him to breathe. Hutch knew from his own painful experience with a broken nose, that the nose would be straightened at a later date after some of the swelling went down. Starsky’s mouth was swollen and cracked, his lips parted slightly, showing a glimpse of the metal holding his jaw together.

Although it wasn’t visible on the outside, Hutch knew that the inside of Starsky’s mouth was full of stitches. His usually vocal friend wouldn’t be talking for a while or eating his favorite junk foods. Hutch let his gaze sweep over the other medical paraphernalia in the room. Two IVs, one for fluids and one for antibiotics, a machine to monitor Starsky’s respiration and the oxygen level in his blood, a machine to keep track of his heartbeat, and the familiar catheter to measure his urine output. But, at least he was breathing on his own with only minimal assistance, that was a positive sign.

Hutch reached out to touch Starsky’s left hand. The skin was cool to his touch and felt drier than normal. The long slender fingers lay still on the bed, unmoving, even when Hutch clutched his friend’s hand tightly in his own.

“You’re gonna be okay, Gordo.” Hutch said softly. “You hear me? Just hang in there for me. We’ll get through this together.” His voice hardened as he added, “I’m gonna find whoever did this to you and they’re gonna pay for it. I’m gonna beat their face to a bloody pulp and see how they like it.”

Hutch gave a heavy sigh as he looked at the face of his unresponsive partner. The thought of that inquisitive, quick mind being damaged in any way was too much to bear. Hopefully, the doctors were wrong on that prognosis. Your mind is gonna be okay, buddy. I know it is. Hutch thought to himself. And, if it isn’t, we’ll find a way to deal with it. I’ll use every penny of my trust fund if I have to and make sure you get the best medical care available. I’ll bring in every specialist in the state if that’s what it takes.

Although Hutch wanted to stay there with his partner and watch over him, he knew he needed to get out on the streets and find out who was responsible for this. He stayed a while longer then reluctantly forced himself to leave the hospital and head for headquarters to see if the lab team had turned up any useful evidence from Starsky’s apartment.

Even though it was almost ten pm, Hutch found Captain Dobey still in his office. The burly black man looked up as Hutch came in and slumped down in his usual chair facing the Captain’s desk.

“How’s Starsky doing?” Dobey asked

“He’s still out of it if that’s what you’re asking.” Hutch said, a bit more sharply then he meant to. “He’s lucky to even be alive.”

“The lab boys think the scene was staged. Somebody wanted it to look like a botched break in.” Dobey told him.

“It had to be somebody he knew and trusted.” Hutch said, “Starsky’s too good a cop to let someone take him by surprise and beat the shit out of him like that.”

“The lab boys said they found traces of blood and hair on the edge of the coffee table. It matches Starsky.” Dobey said, “It looks like he may have fallen and hit his head on the table. He was probably unconscious before the attack even took place.”

“He should still be able to tell us who did it.”

“If and when he wakes up.” Dobey said gruffly.

“He’s going to wake up!” Hutch growled, glaring at his superior office with eyes that were as cold as ice. “He has to!”

“Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? There’s nothing more you can do tonight.” Dobey suggested. “Dave’s going to need you when he does wake up.”

The Captain’s use of Starsky’s first name did not escape Hutch’s attention. The only time the Captain called either one of them by their first names was when he had to tell them bad news or he was worried about them. He was concerned about Starsky too, almost as much as Hutch was.

Hutch nodded absently and shoved himself to his feet. Dobey noticed the dejected sag of the big blond’s shoulders as he left the office. Picking up the phone on the edge of his desk, Dobey called his wife to tell her that he would be home soon.

Hutch left headquarters but instead of returning to his own apartment, he went to Starsky’s place. It was a habit that Starsky and Hutch both shared. Whenever one of them was in the hospital, the other often stayed at the injured friend’s apartment. It helped them to feel closer to the one who was hurt.

When he arrived back at the empty apartment, Hutch spent two hours diligently cleaning the blood out of the living room carpet and straightening up the living room. It would be one less thing for Starsky to cope with when he returned home and it helped to distract Hutch from his own thoughts. When he had finished, he looked around with a practiced eye. The living room was returned to its usual neat, uncluttered appearance.

Hutch had to smile. It amused him when he thought about Starsky’s tendency towards neatness. It was a trait you’d never expect from the tough, streetwise cop with the crooked smile. As a child, his mother and then later, his Aunt Rosie, had instilled in him the habits that Starsky had carried with him into adulthood. Some of those habits were reinforced during his stint in the Army. Starsky still made his bed with military precision every morning. Hutch, on the other hand, never made his bed unless he was expecting company or had an overnight guest.

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, Hutch walked to the hallway closet where Starsky kept extra sheets and blankets, along with a spare pillow. Opening the door, Hutch was surprised to find a sheet and the pillow lying on the floor of the closet instead of neatly folded and tucked away on the shelf the way Starsky kept them. Hutch frowned thoughtfully. Did that mean that Starsky had an overnight guest that had slept on the sofa? If so, who? It had to have been a male and not a female. If it had been a female, she wouldn’t have been sleeping on the sofa.

Hutch picked up the pillow and smelled it. The scent of aftershave clung to the fabric, a heavier cologne than the one Starsky wore. So, he had had an overnight guest in the past few days and that guest had been a male. But, the question still remained, who? The scent of the cologne seemed vaguely familiar to Hutch but he couldn’t place where he had smelled it before.

Hutch continued to frown as he made himself a bed on the sofa, trying to figure out the identity of Starsky’s mysterious guest. Since they shared most of the same friends, Hutch couldn’t readily identify anyone that would have spent the night at Starsky’s apartment. Maybe it was an old Army buddy who blew into town unexpectedly, but as far as Hutch knew, Starsky had severed all ties with the military when he came back from Viet Nam. And the only friendship he still maintained from his teenage years was Huggy Bear. He fell into an uneasy sleep with the unanswered questions still running through his mind.

Hutch spent a restless night, troubled by dreams where Starsky was hurt and calling for Hutch but Hutch couldn’t reach him. Hutch woke up in a cold sweat with his heart pounding frantically just before dawn. He tossed aside the sheet and stood up, knowing that he’d never be able to fall back to sleep. Wandering into the kitchen, he put on a pot of coffee and rummaged through the cabinets until he found some oatmeal. After a quick meal and two cups of coffee, Hutch headed for headquarters to see if the lab team had any news on the evidence they had gathered at Starsky’s apartment.

Captain Dobey wasn’t surprised to see the big blond detective bursting into his office so early in the morning. He had been expecting him.

“Any news?” Hutch demanded, slouching down in a chair and staring at his Captain with an icy stare.

“Not much. Someone forged Starsky’s name to a check and cleaned out his checking account. They also managed to get most of the money out of his savings account and overran one of his credit cards.”

“Damn, they moved fast. They must have hit the bank as soon as it opened.” Hutch muttered. “What about cameras? Did the banks get a picture of whoever did it?”

Dobey shook his head. “The cameras weren’t working in that branch of the bank yesterday morning.”

“Fuck!” Hutch said sharply as another lead dried up. “Any news on the prints they lifted from Starsky’s apartment yet?”

“Yours and his…plus one other set of unidentified prints and partials taken from the bathroom mainly. We’re running them through the national data base to see if we can come up with a match but that could take a while.”

“I’m going to swing by Huggy’s and then go to the hospital.” Hutch said, shoving himself to his feet. As he turned to leave, Dobey said,

“We’ll find them, Hutch. One way or the other, we’ll find ‘em.”

“Yeah,” Hutch muttered as he walked out the door.

Minnie Kaplan stopped Hutch as he started to leave the squad room. “How’s Curly?” She asked in a concerned voice. Minnie was fond of both detectives but Starsky held a special place in her heart.

“He’s hanging in there, Minnie.” Hutch said with a ghost of a smile. “I’ll make sure and tell him you asked about him.”

“You tell that trashy boy to get better soon. This place just ain’t the same without his smiling face to brighten things up.” She patted Hutch’s shoulder comfortingly, fully aware of how close the two detectives were. “You take care of yourself too, Blondie.” She said with a smile.

“I will. I promise.” Hutch told her as he headed for the hallway, anxious to get to the hospital to see Starsky. He made a quick stop at the Pits to see if Huggy had turned up any useful information.

The tall black man was wiping off the bar getting ready to open for the lunch crowd. He glanced up as Hutch came into the empty bar and jerked his head towards the end of the bar where they could talk in private, even though the only other people in the place was the cook and his head waitress, Rita.

“You got something for me, Hug?” Hutch asked anxiously as the two men moved to the far end of the bar.

“Well, a mutual friend who prefers to remain nameless dropped a dime on me and told me that an old acquaintance was back in town.” Huggy said. “A certain young man who was selling weed the last time he passed through our fair city.”

“Who?” Hutch asked trying to decipher who exactly Huggy was referring to.

“Starsky’s brother.”

“Nicky?” Hutch exclaimed in a surprised voice. “Nicky’s in town? Since when?”

“Couple of days, maybe longer.” Huggy said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Does your friend have any idea where I can find the little weasel?” Hutch growled, suddenly remembering why the aftershave on the pillowcase smelled so familiar.

“No idea. Word is he’s laying low….waiting for some big deal to go down.”

“There ain’t no sewer in this town big enough to hide that little shit from me.” Hutch snarled. “And if I find out that he had anything to do with what happened to Starsky, this whole state won’t be big enough for him to hide in!”

“Chill out, my man. I’ll put out the word that you want to talk to little brother.” Huggy said “Now get to the hospital and see Curly.”

“Thanks, Huggy.” Hutch said gratefully. He left the bar and climbed into his car. Before pulling away from the curb, he put a patch through to Captain Dobey. When Dobey’s voice came over the air, Hutch said, “Cap, check those unidentified prints they found at Starsky’s place against Nick Starsky’s prints.”
“Starsky’s brother?” Dobey bellowed in surprise.

“Yeah, word on the streets is that he blew into town a couple of days ago. And if he’s in town, it usually means trouble for Starsky.”

“You think he had anything to do with what happened?”

“He’d better have his life insurance paid up if he did.” Hutch growled, cutting off the conversation as he headed towards the hospital. It was no secret that he didn’t like the younger Starsky brother. Nick was a manipulative, lying little punk who didn’t care about anyone but himself. The only time Starsky heard from him was when he was in trouble or needed money. The smell of his cologne in Starsky’s apartment was proof that he had been there but Nicky had always seemed to be too much of a coward to be violent with anyone, especially his older brother who could have easier taken him down in a fight.

Hutch’s mind was so preoccupied with thoughts of Nick Starsky that he didn’t see the red light until he was already through it. There was a sickening crash with the sound of breaking glass, along with a jolt that sent Hutch’s body flying forward. With a loud crack, his head slammed into the windshield. There was a momentary burst of pain and then nothing.

CHAPTER 4

Captain Dobey was busy catching up on some paperwork when his phone rang. Grabbing the receiver, he bellowed “Captain Dobey’s office!

“Captain Dobey, this is Liz down in dispatch. I thought you’d want to know that I just received a call about a hit and run at the corner of Lexington and Twenty-Ninth Street. One of the cars involved has been identified as being registered to Sergeant Hutchinson.”

“Hutch! Is he all right?” Dobey demanded gruffly, his anxiety level climbing along with his blood pressure.

“He’s injured and unconscious. That’s all I have so far.” Liz told him. “An ambulance has been dispatched to the scene.”

“Contact the responding officers and tell them that I’m on my way.” Dobey growled, slamming down the receiver and bounding to his feet. When necessary, Dobey could move quickly despite his bulk. He hurried out of the building and climbed into his car, rushing to the scene of the accident.

When he arrived, the emergency crew was still working on cutting Hutch out of his mangled car. His vehicle had been hit on the driver’s side, smashing in that side of the car and pinning Hutch inside.

“What the hell happened here?” Dobey demanded of one of the unformed officers at the scene.

“Witness said that Hutchinson ran the red light and was hit by a cream colored Van. They didn’t get a license number or a description of the driver.” The officer explained. “After the other vehicle hit Hutchinson, it left the scene heading west.”

“What about Hutch?”

“Don’t know yet. It looks like he hit the windshield on impact. They’re still trying to get him out of the car.” The uniformed officer said. He excused himself to tend to other duties. Dobey turned his attention to the efforts to free Hutch from his car. Damn it, Hutchinson! This is the last thing I need to deal with right now! Starsky needs you! His somber thoughts raced through his mind as he watched the rescue efforts impatiently.

Finally, the emergency crew had cleared the way to remove Hutch from his vehicle. Dobey watched as the medical personnel rushed forward to take over. They carefully checked Hutch over while he was still in the car, putting a brace around his neck to stabilize his head. They gently eased the big blond out of the car, placing his body on a back board. Hutch’s face was pale and there was a large gash on his forehead that was bleeding profusely. His right arm was also twisted at an awkward angle. Other than that, there were no other visible injuries but that didn’t rule out the possibility of internal ones.

“Where are they taking him?” Dobey asked one of the other medical personnel milling around the scene.

“Memorial. It’s the closest.”

“Good. Contact Doctor Franklin and let him know that you’re bringing him in.” Dobey said. Starsky was at Memorial so at least the two men would be together in the same hospital. Dobey just hoped that Hutch wasn’t hurt too badly. Neither Starsky nor Hutch recovered as well without the other one there to offer their support and comfort. Maybe Doctor Franklin could at least arrange for them to be in the same room together. It would be the best for both of them.

Dobey remained at the scene until the paramedics loaded Hutch into the back of the ambulance to transport him to the hospital. Climbing back into his car, Dobey followed the ambulance to the hospital. He took care of the paperwork for Hutch’s treatment and then sat down in the waiting room to wait.

Dobey cared about all the men under his command and had spent many long hours in hospital waiting rooms when one of them was injured. The majority of the time, those vigils seemed to involve either Starsky or Hutch. Those two seemed to attract trouble without even trying. It seemed like one of them was always getting hurt on the job, although it was usually one at a time and not both of them..

Three hours later, Doctor Franklin finally joined Dobey in the waiting room.

“How’s Hutch?” Dobey demanded, pushing himself to his feet with a heavy sigh.

“He’s was very lucky. He could have been severely injured in the accident. He has a moderate concussion and it took eighteen stitches to close the gash on his forehead.” Doctor Franklin said, relieved to be able to give Captain Dobey a fairly good report on one of his men for a change. “His right shoulder was dislocated but that has been fixed and shouldn’t present any problems. He does have some minor bruises and abrasions and a badly bruised hip but nothing that won’t heal in time. He’ll have to stay in the hospital for a few days just as a precaution. I bent the rules a bit and had him put in with David even though he really doesn’t require the ICU.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Dobey said gratefully. “Can I see him?”
“He’s still unconscious and probably won’t wake up before morning but you can see them both for a minute before you leave if you wish.”

Dobey thanked the doctor again and turned to walk down the hallway. He paused at the payphone and called Huggy Bear to let him know about Hutch’s accident. That task finished, he went up to Starsky’s room and went inside. It seemed strange to see both of his best men lying so quiet and still. It was unnatural. He only stayed for a few minutes before returning to headquarters. Arriving back at his office, he decided to post a guard on the door to Starsky’s room. No sense in taking any unnecessary chances since Starsky’s assailant was still on the loose. Although Hutch’s accident appeared to be nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence caused by a moment of carelessness on Hutch’s part, Dobey had been a cop for too many years to assume anything.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Vicky Abrams was a recent graduate from high school who was working at the hospital until the next semester started at the local community college. She was considering making nursing her career so this gave her the opportunity to see if she would enjoy that type of work. Right now her job consisted of the mundane duties performed by the aides; giving patients bedpans and baths, taking vital signs, and passing breakfast trays in the mornings before she left. She enjoyed the third shift, there was a lot of free time that she could use to read.

She had just checked on the two patients in room 623. She’d heard one of the nurses say that they were policeman. They were both pretty banged up, the brunet a lot worse than the blond. But, in spite of their visible injuries, Vicky knew a handsome man when she saw one and these two guys were both drop dead gorgeous. Too bad they were so old. They had to be at least in their thirties.

Lost in her own thoughts, Vicky startled when a deep seductive voice said over her shoulder “Hey, maybe you can help me.”

Vicky turned around and found herself looking at another attractive man with dark curly hair and vivid blue eyes. He smiled crookedly, easily charming the teenager.

“I just got into town from New York and I was told that my brother got hurt and was in the hospital. I was hoping you could tell me if he’s okay. It’s so late, I don’t want to disturb him tonight.”

“Uh…I don’t know…I’m not really supposed to give out any information about the patients. I could go find the nurse for you.” Vicky said helpfully.

“No, I don’t want to be any trouble. Can you just tell me if my brother is here or not?”

“Well…okay,” Vicky said hesitantly “What’s your brother’s name?”

“Starsky. David Starsky.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s here. He’s in room 632. I was just in there a little bit ago to check his vital signs. He’s pretty banged up and in a coma but the doctors think he’s gonna be okay. So is his friend.”

“His friend?”

“Yeah, his friend, Ken. He was brought in just before I came on duty. He had a car accident earlier tonight.”

“Thank you, Darling.” The man said with a smile, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I just to make sure Davy was okay before I went back to my motel to get some sleep. You’ve been a big help. I feel a lot better now.”

“You’re welcome.” Vicky said, blushing at the man’s attention. Too bad he was too old for her too. She watched as the stranger turned to walk away, a definite swagger to his walk.

Nick kept his expression impassive as he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor. He had found out what he’d come to the hospital to find out. David was still alive but in a coma. He wouldn’t be identifying Nick as his attacker any time soon. He smiled thinly. And with Hutchinson in the hospital too, he didn’t have to keep looking over his shoulder watching for the big blond. Hopefully, he would be able to make contact with his buyer tomorrow, make the deal and then get the hell out of town before David woke up.

Nick was ambivalent about David’s condition. Part of him was relieved that David wasn’t dead, but another part of him was only concerned about himself. This is all Davy’s fault. All he had to do was give me the money when I asked him for it. He didn’t need to get all self righteous on me. But, at least I got me some bucks to get me by until I can get hold of Mr. Coyle. He was whistling underneath his breath as he strutted out of the hospital, confident that he was home free.

Confident and cocky, he was positive that David would never file charges against him for assault or for taking his money. After all, they were still brothers and blood was thicker than water. He strutted across the parking lot and climbed into the flashy sports car he had rented with David’s credit card earlier that day.

CHAPTER 5

Hutch groaned as he slowly opened his eyes. The familiar antiseptic smell and sounds assaulted his senses. A hospital. He was in a hospital. Slowly, he took stock of his various aches and pains. His throbbing head was running a close second to his throbbing shoulder. His other aches seemed relatively minor. He vaguely remembered a crash and he knew he’d been in a car accident but that was he remembered.

Grimacing, he turned his head, a faint smile crossing his face when he saw Starsky lying in the second bed in the room. He must be at Memorial. He relaxed when he discovered he was sharing a room with his injured partner. At least he could still keep an eye on him this way.

“Hey, Buddy…” he said, his voice sounding dry and raspy. “I’m here.” His eyes drifted closed and he slept.

When Hutch opened his eyes again, the pounding in his head had dulled to an annoying ache, although his shoulder still throbbed painfully. Easing his legs over the side of the bed, he sat upright, closing his eyes against the wave of dizziness that swept over him. As his head cleared, he opened his eyes and slowly pushed himself to his feet. Taking slow, careful steps, he crossed the room to Starsky’s side and reached out to rub his shoulder. He caught his breath when his partner gave a soft sigh and turned his head to one side, leaning into Hutch’s touch.

“Starsk? Can you hear me?” Hutch asked cautiously, watching Starsky’s face for any response to the sound of his face. “Come on, buddy,” he encouraged “Open those baby blues for me.” Starsky’s eyelids fluttered but remained closed. Hutch moved his hand to cup the side of Starsky’s face in his palm. “Come on, Starsky. It’s time to wake up.”

Starsky’s eyelids fluttered again and opened a slit, not far but enough for Hutch to see the blue of his eyes. With a sigh, his eyes closed again as if it were too much of an effort for him to keep them open. Hutch let him sleep this time. He smiled with relief. Starsky was coming out of the coma. That was an encouraging sign.

Hutch remained at his friend’s side throughout the morning. Doctor Franklin came in and checked out both men. He scolded Hutch for being out of bed, reminding him that he was injured too. He was encouraged by Starsky’s responses to his examination, agreeing with Hutch’s assessment that Starsky was starting to come out of the coma. After securing a promise from Hutch that he would take it easy and rest, Doctor Franklin left to tend to his other patients.

Hutch spent the rest of the day resting and watching over Starsky. As the day passed, Starsky showed more and more signs of waking up. He responded to the sound of Hutch’s voice, turning his head in his direction when Hutch spoke and he opened his eyes briefly before drifting off again. When Hutch took his hand and squeezed it, Starsky squeezed back, clear evidence that he was aware of Hutch’s presence even if he wasn’t fully conscious yet.

Finally, shortly before ten pm, Starsky’s eyes opened and he looked around, confused and disoriented. His fearful expression eased when Hutch leaned over him and said his name softly.

“Mmmm…uuuuu..” he mumbled

“Shhhhh…” Hutch soothed him “Don’t try to talk. You got a broken jaw and it’s wired shut. Somebody worked you over pretty good. Do you remember what happened?”

Starsky closed his eyes, then opened them again After a minute, he did the same thing. Twice for yes, once for no. Starsky remembered being beaten. That was a start.

“Do you know who did it?” Hutch asked gently, even though he was already positive he knew who was responsible.

Starsky blinked twice again.

“Was it Nicky?”

Starsky turned his head, avoiding eye contact with Hutch when he asked about Nicky. Gently, Hutch took Starsky’s chin in his hand and turned his head back towards him so he could look into his eyes. The look he saw reflected there was all the answer he needed to his question. Hutch took a deep breathe and exhaled slowly. He leaned down and gently rested his forehead against Starsky’s.

“I’m sorry, buddy.” He whispered, “I’m so sorry.” He knew that in spite of their differences, Nicky was still Starsky’s brother and to have Nicky turn on him like this and beat him so viciously, had to be tearing his partner apart. When Hutch raised his head, he saw the glimmer of tears in Starsky’s eyes. Hutch felt his heart breaking in two in compassion for his friend’s emotional and physical pain.

“He tried to make it look like a break in.” Hutch explained quietly. “He stole your checkbook, your wallet and your bankbook. He wiped out most of your accounts before we could put a freeze on them and over-drafted at least one of your credit cards.” Hutch paused and then asked, “Is that why he went after you? Did he want money and you refused?”

After several long minutes, Starsky lowered his eyes and slowly nodded his head. Hutch patted Starsky’s shoulder comfortingly. When Starsky raised his hand and tried to touch his battered face, Hutch gently stopped him. “Don’t do that, Starsk. Besides a broken jaw, you also got a busted nose and a busted cheekbone. And that thick skull of yours was fractured.” Starsky grimaced, indicating that he understood. “Are you in pain? Do you want me to call the nurse and have her give you something?”

Starsky hesitated for a moment and then nodded slightly. For Starsky to admit that he was in pain, Hutch knew that the pain had to be bad. Let him get a cold or a sprained ankle and he whined like a kid, but when he was really hurt, he turned quiet and withdrawn, keeping his pain close and to himself. Hutch immediately rang for the nurse. When her voice came over the tiny speaker mounted above the bed, Hutch told her that Starsky was awake and in pain. She told him she would call the doctor and bring Starsky something immediately to relieve his discomfort.

Hutch remembered the doctor’s dire warnings about Starsky’s head injury but as far as he could see, Starsky seemed alert and oriented. That had to be a good sign. He knew that Starsky still faced more surgery to repair his skull where the doctors had removed a piece of the fractured bone to give his brain room to swell to prevent brain damage. Hutch knew there could still be some problems with Starsky’s fine motor skills or speech but it was too soon to access those areas yet.

Hutch glanced up as the nurse came into the room and quickly crossed to the bed, injecting something into the IV line running into Starsky’s right arm. He watched as Starsky’s eyes drifted shut and he fell back to sleep. He needed to sleep so he could heal. Hutch knew the physical injuries would heal but what about the emotional scars of knowing that his own brother had tried to kill him? The big blond stood there looking at the familiar face that he knew as well as he knew my own. What had Starsky ever done to deserve something like this? In spite of the differences in their lives, Starsky had tried to maintain some kind of relationship with his younger brother. It wasn’t his fault that Nicky didn’t have any conscience or loyalty when it came to anyone but himself.

Hutch was determined to find the younger Starsky and make sure he paid for his crimes against his older brother. This was one time that Nick Starsky was going to suffer the consequences of his actions and nobody would be there to bail him out. When he attacked Starsky, he lost the only allies he’d ever had on his side.

Rachel Starsky had sent Starsky away when he was thirteen to protect him, to save him from turning out the way Nicky had. As a result, she had spoiled her only remaining child and let him fall into the lifestyle she had fought to save his older brother from. Hutch knew she wasn’t to blame, she had done the best she could for both of her sons but as a young widow with very little money, she had to work to support herself and Nick, leaving the younger son vulnerable to the wise guys and petty gangsters that had taken over their neighborhood. It was a exciting life that Nicky had embraced from an early age and now his true colors were showing through. Even Rachel would not stand beside him now. She would never forgive him from hurting Starsky this way.

Hutch knew he should call her and tell her what had happened but he wanted to wait until Starsky was stronger. And, he hoped to have Nicky behind bars first. It was not a call he wanted to make. He knew the news would hurt Rachel deeply. Hutch smiled faintly when he thought about the first time he’d met Starsky’s mother. Starsky had taken Hutch home with him for a visit and Rachel had welcomed him with open arms, treating Hutch just like another son. And in spite of the distance that had separated mother and son, it was obvious how much Starsky loved her. Rachel Starsky was a gracious and warm woman who had been dealt more than her share of grief in her life. She had made some difficult choices that no mother should ever have to make. One son she had lost by sending him away at such a young age and the second son she had lost to the streets she had tried desperately to protect her oldest son from. And now it was Hutch’s responsibility to tell her the news that no mother should ever have to hear about her sons.

Starsky woke up around midnight and seemed more alert, but obviously still in a lot of pain. It was frustrating for the brunet not to be able to communicate with his partner except through his facial expressions and blinking his eyes. Hutch longed desperately to hear his friend’s voice once more. He carefully avoided the subject of Nicky and spent his time soothing and comforting his friend until they were both finally able to fall asleep for the night.

CHAPTER 6

Matt Coyle examined the small overnight case sitting on the desk in front of him. The bearer bonds inside were worth over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Steepling his fingers and leaning back in his chair, he looked at the cocky young man slouched in the chair in front of his desk.

“So, what do ya say, Mr. Coyle?” the young man asked smugly. “Do we have a deal? Fifteen thousand and they’re all yours.”

“You could get a lot more than that for this kind of merchandise. Why are you willing to sell it so cheaply?”

“Hey, you know how it is. I gotta get out of town. Ain’t got time to shop around. Things are kinda hot for me right now. So, I’m willing to negotiate.”

“I see. What did you say your name was again?”

“Starsky. David Starsky.”

Coyle cocked an eyebrow at the brash young man but kept silent. He knew the real David Starsky. In his line of business, he made it a point to know all the cops that could present a problem to his organization. So, he knew this man was an imposter, even though the resemblance was remarkable. There must be some kind of family relationship. He wondered how David Starsky, the cop, would feel about this cheap little hood going around impersonating him. Not that it mattered to Matt Coyle. The cocky little bastard had balls. Coyle had to give him credit for that.

He stood up and walked over to a wall safe, deftly thumbing in the combination and opening it. He took out several bundles of money and turned back to the young man with the hunger in his eyes. Laying the money on the desk in front of the dark-haired little weasel, he said, “I believe we have a deal, Mr. Starsky.”

Nick let out the breath that he had been unconsciously holding and reached out to grab the money, stuffing it into his pockets. Bouncing to his feet, he said, “Nice doing business with you Mr. Coyle.” With a definite strut to his step, he left the office.

Coyle’s associate looked at his boss questioningly as Nicky left the room and said, “What did you pay the little bastard off for? You know those bonds belong to Ryker back in New York.”

“I know that. I also know he’s offering a fifty thousand dollar reward for their return. Not a bad profit if I do say so myself. Give Mr. Ryker a call and tell him that we’ve found his merchandise. Arrange for an exchange as soon as possible. And tell him that the little bastard that ripped him off is using the name David Starsky.”

“What about the real David Starsky? He’s a cop and from what I’ve heard, you don’t want him or his partner on your back.”

“Not to worry. Even if Ryker does send someone after Mr. Starsky, what difference is one dead cop going to make?”

“What about the kid? You want me to have someone keep an eye on him?”

“That won’t be necessary. He’s just a little fish trying to swim around in the big pond without the sense to watch out for the sharks. I’m sure the real David Starsky will take care of him when he finds out that he’s going around impersonating him.”

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Nicky went back to the fleabag motel where he’d been hiding out, feeling pleased with himself. He knew he should get out of town but he wasn’t ready to leave the big city just yet. He had money, a nice car to tool around in, and he was ready to have some fun before he went back to New York. A couple of more days wouldn’t matter either way. Maybe he’d get lucky and find himself a foxy lady to spend his time with now that he had some decent money to use for flash.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hutch awoke with a start, not sure what had awakened him. Then he heard the soft whimpers coming from the other bed in the room. Climbing out of bed, he shuffled to Starsky’s side. The brunet appeared to be dreaming, thrashing his head restlessly from side to side on his pillow, his eyes moving rapidly beneath the closed lids. Starsky’s periods of consciousness had been brief throughout the day. At first Starsky had seemed alert and oriented but as the day wore on, he seemed to become more confused and disoriented. The doctor had examined him and told Hutch that he would have some tests run the next day if Starsky still seemed disoriented. Doctor Franklin tried to sound encouraging when he told Hutch that some confusion and disorientation was to be expected because of the severity of Starsky’s head injury.

“Hey, buddy…” Hutch said soothingly, gently rubbing his fingers down Starsky’s arm. “Wake up…you’re having a bad dream.” When Starsky didn’t immediately respond, he tried again, raising his voice slightly. “Come on, Starsk…open those blue eyes for me. Wake up, babe.”

Starsky’s lids fluttered, then flickered open. His eyes were glazed and there was an expression of terror in those sapphire depths that tore at Hutch’s heart. Starsky made a muffled sound, his cry cut short by the immobility of his jaw. Hutch reached out to cup his chin gently in his big hand.

“Shhhh…it’s okay, babe. You’re safe now. You’re in the hospital. Remember?”

Starsky exhaled noisily as the fear slowly faded from his eyes. He struggled to focus his attention on his partner’s face. “Mmmmgggh..” he mumbled through his tightly wired jaw.

“Are you in pain? Do you need something?” Hutch asked. It was frustrating not to be able to hear his partner’s voice. Luckily, they had never really needed that much verbal communication to make their needs known to each other.

Starsky shook his head slowly, refusing anything for the pain. Hutch smiled faintly. He knew Starsky had to be hurting but that stubborn streak of his refused to let him acknowledge it. Their eyes locked as a silent understanding passed between them.

I’m here, pal. I ain’t going no place.

I’m scared. I need you.

I know and I’m here. Try to get some rest, Okay?

Okay.

Hutch watched as Starsky’s eyes drifted shut and he fell back into a quiet, peaceful slumber. Hutch remained sitting by his side, silently watching him sleep, until he was confident that his sleep wouldn’t be disturbed by any more nightmares. Only then did Hutch crawl back into his own bed to get some much needed rest himself.

The next morning, Doctor Franklin examined both men. He told Hutch that his injuries were healing nicely and, as long as he promised to take it easy and rest, he could be discharged the next morning. Starsky’s injuries were also healing. He was still a little disoriented but Doctor Franklin didn’t think it was anything serious. He scheduled the additional surgery to repair the skull fracture since swelling of the brain was no longer a major concern. The bruising and swelling of Starsky’s face and head was fading, his features gradually returning to normal. The Orthopedic Surgeon would be in later to examine Starsky’s jaw and to possibly readjust the wires holding his mouth shut, allowing him a little more mobility so he could talk, as well as start eating blended foods.

The news was encouraging but Hutch was still concerned. He knew Starsky’s physical injuries would take a while to heal but what about the emotional and mental trauma the brunet had experienced? Would Starsky be able to cope with knowledge that his own brother had brutally assaulted him and tried to kill him?

And where exactly was Nick Starsky? If he was smart, he would have left town and disappeared. If he hadn’t and Hutch found him, the big blond would beat the little punk to a bloody pulp and he didn’t think anyone, not even Starsky, would hold him responsible for his actions. For his own sake, Nick Starsky had better pray that someone besides Hutch found the little weasel.

CHAPTER 7

“U ‘kay?” Starsky managed to say through his teeth. His jaw was still tightly wired together and hurt like hell, but at least the orthopedic surgeon had loosened the wires enough that he could talk, even though his speech was slurred and hard to understand with his mouth full of wires.

Hutch smiled and reached out to brush his hand through my curls, a gesture that seemed to comfort him as much as it did Starsky. “Haven’t you got that a little backwards, Gordo?” he asked “You’re hurt a lot worse than I am. I’m getting out of here tomorrow. You’re gonna be stuck here for a few more days at least.”

“ ‘urt ‘ause me.”

“No, I’m got hurt because I wasn’t paying enough attention to my damn driving.” Hutch pointed out, refusing to let Starsky take the blame for his accident. Hutch knew he was fighting a losing battle, Starsky’s primary concern was always Hutch, just like his primary concern was always Starsky. It was just the way they were with each other and Hutch wouldn’t have it any other way.

Hutch sighed and chose his next words with care as he brought up the subject they had both been avoiding. “There’s still no sign of Nicky but I don’t think he’s left town yet. He used your credit card to rent a car in your name. It sounds like he’s going around town pretending to be you.”

Starsky nodded but didn’t answer. Hutch saw the pain that flickered in those deep blue eyes and knew how much Starsky was hurting emotionally at the thought of what Nicky had done to him. Instinctively, Hutch reached out and rubbed Starsky’s arm to comfort and soothe him. In a quiet tender voice, he said, “It’s not your fault, buddy. Nicky’s been on the wrong path for a long time now. You know that.”

“Still…family.” Starsky forced out with effort. It was easier to stay silent. It hurt to talk. Nevertheless, he had to try to make Hutch understand that no matter what Nicky had done, he was still Starsky’s brother.

“Family?” Hutch snorted with disgust. “What kind of brother does what Nicky did to you? He almost killed you, Starsk! The doctor said you probably laid there for at least seven or eight hours before I found you!” Hutch struggled to keep the anger out of his voice, knowing it would only upset his partner. But, he was barely able to contain the cold rage he felt towards Nick Starsky. “What if I hadn’t come by when I did? You would have died! And if Nicky hadn’t been so careless…we might never have known who was behind this!”

Starsky turned his head to one side, avoiding Hutch’s steady gaze. He could feel the burn of unshed tears in his eyes and a pain in his chest that he knew wouldn’t go away anytime soon. He would never forgive Nicky for what he had done this time. And, when the time came, he would do the right thing and make sure Nicky paid for his crimes. But, that didn’t make it hurt any less. He would have to live with the knowledge that his own brother had betrayed him and tried to kill him.

He felt Hutch’s hand settle on his shoulder and was grateful for the big blond’s support. Hutch had always been more like a brother to him than Nicky ever was and he always would be. Sometimes, blood wasn’t thicker than water. Forcing a small smile on his face, Starsky turned back to meet his friend’s gaze. He saw the concern and the compassion reflected in those ice blue eyes.

“Why don’t you get some rest, huh?” Hutch suggested his voice suspiciously husky. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Starsky nodded and let his eyes drift shut, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. He knew it was safe to let himself relax and sleep as long as Hutch had his back. He never had to worry with Hutch at his side. Hutch sat there, smiling fondly, as he watched his dark haired companion sleep. Starsky had always been the strongest, most confident man that Hutch knew. He’d been through hell and back during his lifetime and always came out on top. Hutch hoped he could find the deep inner strength that had seen him through the rough times before to get through this too.