Epilogue

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Hutch asked.

 

“Yeah.  I wanna make sure they’re doing okay,” Starsky said.  “Finding out someone you love committed suicide must be a hard thing to handle.”  He rang the bell and waited.

 

When the door opened, they were greeted not by Laura Kramer, but by her sister, Megan.  “Detective Starsky,” she said, smiling at them uneasily.  “I’m surprised to see you here.  Who’s your friend?”

 

Hutch stepped forward to introduce himself, but Starsky beat him to the punch.

 

“This is my partner, Hutch.”

 

Hutch extended his hand, flashing her his best “wholesome-Midwest-boy” smile.  “Ken Hutchinson.  Glad to meet you.”

 

Starsky gave him a quelling look then turned his attention back to the pretty girl before them.  “I...uh...I was wondering how your sister and Angie are doing.”

 

“As well as can be expected,” Megan answered honestly.  “Laura’s having trouble accepting all this.  But she’s coming around.  Of course, Angie’s beginning to realize her daddy isn’t coming home.”

 

“Do you suppose we could see them?”

 

“I’ll ask,” she said, stepping back and opening the door wider.  “Please come in and sit down.”

 

The two men followed her into the living room and sat down.  Hutch looked around curiously, taking in the photos of family and friends, seeing James Kramer from a different perspective.  It made him sad when his eyes lit upon the photo of a little girl, with her arms around Kramer’s neck.

 

“Who are you?” asked a tiny voice.  Startled, he looked down and saw the question had come from a petite child, her dark hair in pigtails, and a light sprinkle of freckles dotting her nose.

 

“Hi, Angie,” Starsky said from behind them.  “He’s my friend.  His name is Ken.”

 

“I remember you,” she said, giving Starsky a gape-toothed grin.  “You’re Dave.”

 

“That’s right,” Starsky said, smiling back at her.  “I see you and Barbie are still hanging out together.”  He nodded toward the doll clutched in her tiny hands.

 

She giggled.  “We’re going to a tea party.  You wanna come?”

 

“Angie, why don’t you take Barbie to your room and pick out what she’s going to wear to the tea party?” Laura Kramer said, entering the room.

 

“But Dave just got here.  And his friend, Ken, is with him,” the little girl protested.

 

“Come on, sweetie,” Megan said, taking her hand.  “I’ll help you pick out the perfect dress.  Okay?  Then maybe later, Dave and Ken can think about coming to the tea party.”

 

“Really?”  She turned toward the two policemen, her eyes wide with hope.

 

Starsky stammered.  “We’d like to, but¾”

 

“But we didn’t bring our coats and ties,” Hutch intervened.  “A gentleman never goes to tea with a lady without his coat and tie,” he said authoritatively.  “Maybe next time, okay?”

 

The little girl looked disappointed but agreed, nonetheless.  “Okay, but only if you promise.”

 

“Scouts’ honor,” Starsky said, raising three fingers in the traditional pledge.

 

With that, Angie followed her aunt from the room, leaving the two men to talk alone with her mother.

 

“Thanks for seeing me, Mrs. Kramer,” Starsky said.

 

“Of course,” she said, motioning for the two men to sit back down.  

 

Starsky introduced her to Hutch, then found himself at a loss for words.  The three adults sat in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds before Starsky found his nerve again and said hesitantly, “I, uh, I just came by to see how you two are doing.  To see if you need anything.”

 

Laura’s hand went to her face, and she unconsciously tucked a stray lock behind her ear before answering,  “How do you think I’m doing?”  Starsky was surprised there was no trace of sarcasm in her voice; he heard only fatigue and the strain of raw grief.  “I was just beginning to face the fact that my husband was dead, and now I find out he committed suicide.”

 

Her eyes welled with tears.  “I’d like to be able to say I don’t believe it.  But deep down inside, I knew something was wrong.  Jim and I had been drifting apart for the past two years.  He...he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.  I didn’t know about the gambling.  I thought—oh, God—I thought he was having an affair.”  Now the tears streamed silently from her eyes, leaving tiny tracks down her cheeks.

 

“I’m sorry you had to find out the truth,” Starsky said sincerely.

 

“No...no...please.  I’m the one who should apologize.  I blamed you for Jim’s death, and the press crucified you.  I know you nearly lost your job.  If only I’d known...” Her voice trailed off momentarily, then she looked up at him again.  “I wanted to call you, but I didn’t know what to say.”  Her hands lay tightly clasped in her lap.

 

“Hey, don’t worry about that,” Starsky said sincerely.  “I’m just sorry things turned out the way they did.”

 

Hutch watched his partner struggling for the right words to comfort the woman.  He wished he could help, but he knew this was something Starsky felt he had to do on his own.

 

 “I’m really sorry about the insurance money,” Starsky said. 

 

“Insurance money?” she said with a bewildered expression.

 

Embarrassed, Starsky was hesitant to continue.  He looked over at Hutch for guidance.  Hutch was surprised Starsky had raised the issue.  Perhaps she hadn’t considered the implications of the suicide.  Knowing it was too late to drop it, Hutch nodded for him to continue.

 

“Well, I, uh, we figure since your husband’s death was ruled a suicide, the insurance policy will be void,” he said.

 

“Oh, that.  Detective Starsky, I don’t want any part of that...that blood money.  I couldn’t spend a penny of it, knowing where it came from.  Angie and I will be fine.  We’ll draw Jim’s retirement, and I’m a teacher.  Granted, they don’t pay teachers much, but I’ll never be without a job.”

 

Starsky breathed a sigh of relief.  “I’m glad to hear that.  But if you ever need anything…”

 

“Thank you, but I think we’ll be fine.”  Sniffing back her tears, she smiled then reached over and laid her hand on his.  “I’m so sorry my husband put you through this.  He was a good man; he just made some bad choices.”

 

“I guess we’re all guilty of that sometime in our lives.  I’m just sorry your husband’s choices left you and your little girl alone in the world.”

 

“But, thank God, I still have my daughter.  She’s the light of my life.  And Meg has decided to move in with us.  We’re planning to combine our resources, and she’ll help me with childcare.  I miss Jim, but things could be worse.”

 

 Starsky stood up to leave, and Hutch followed his lead.  “Remember, you call if you need anything,” Starsky said as they reached the door.

 

“I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” she said, smiling tremulously.  “After all, you both have a date for tea with my daughter.”

 

˜  ™

 

As they walked down the sidewalk, Hutch nudged Starsky in the ribs with his elbow.  “There you go again, Starsk, getting involved with someone a fourth your age.  First, Joey, now Angie.  What’s with you and the younger ladies?” he teased.

 

“Ma always used to say, ‘when ya got it, flaunt it’,” Starsky said smugly, drawing the sunglasses from his jacket pocket and sliding them onto his nose.  “Come on, partner.  Let’s go to Huggy’s, and I’ll show you the old Starsky charm in action.”

 

˜      ™