Chapter Nine

 

The car’s headlights flared across the driveway, illuminating the sheriff’s car and the two men standing beside it.  “Damn,” Starsky cursed under his breath, when he recognized them as Sheriff Dotson and Hutch.  It was pretty clear from the way Hutch was pointing his finger self-righteously at the sheriff’s nose, that they weren’t having a friendly little chat.  Squealing to a stop, Starsky quickly hopped out of the car and strode purposely up to the two men.

 

“—and if I conducted my investigations half as shoddily as you’ve handled this one, Captain Dobey would yank my badge so fast my head would spin!”

 

“Now, you listen to me, you pompous ass—”

 

“Whoa!  Hold it right there, Sheriff,” Starsky said, stepping between the two men.  “My partner’s a little overwrought.  I’m sure you can understand—”

 

“What the hell are you doing, Starsky?  I can speak for myself!”

Starsky turned and laid a soothing hand on Hutch’s chest.

 

“I know, partner, but just step back a minute.  Try and calm down.  Okay?”

 

Breathing hard, his heart drumming, Hutch’s hand grabbed Starsky’s for a moment, as if to jerk it away, but then, instead, calmly dropped it to his side.  Starsky gave him a sympathetic but grateful smile.

 

“Your partner, here, is trying to tell me how to conduct my investigation,” Dotson said, reaching up to straighten his tie.  “I know you both think you know it all, and I’m some ‘rube’ that doesn’t have the slightest idea what he’s doing, but I’m warning you both right now, don’t get in my way!”

 

Starsky felt his own temper rising, fighting the urge to slam his fist into the arrogant bastard’s face.  “Sheriff, with all due respect,” he said calmly, “if you’d acted when Mrs. Hutchinson first contacted you, Karen might be alive today.  I’d think you could understand if Hutch is a little upset with you and your methods.”

 

Behind him, Starsky heard Hutch’s breath draw sharply, realizing he’d probably just stated the exact words Hutch was delivering when he drove up.  It wouldn’t be the first time, or the last time, they would read each other’s thoughts.

 

“I’m not responsible for anything!”

 

Starsky gave him a derisive smile.  “Well, yeah, I think that’s pretty apparent.”  The insult went right over the sheriff’s head.

 

“If Karen Edwards hadn’t been running around with the wrong kind of men, she wouldn’t have been raped and murdered!” he spat.

 

“Why you—!”

 

Hutch charged past Starsky with the ferocity of a three-hundred-pound linebacker, but his partner knew in a split second that would be his reaction to the sheriff’s cruel accusation.  Grabbing Hutch around the waist, Starsky brought him to the ground hard and straddled his chest.

 

“Let me up, Starsky, or so help me, I’ll take your head off!”

 

The sheriff backed away from the two men, counting his blessings that Starsky had intercepted when he did.  Hutch, bucking like a wild stallion, was trying his best to throw Starsky off.

 

“Hutch!”  Pinning Hutch’s arms above his head, Starsky held on for dear life.  “Hutch!  Listen to me, dammit!”  Panting for air, he tried to talk his partner down, while giving every ounce he had just to subdue him.  “Listen to me!  I need you.  I need you ‘out of jail’ to help me catch the creep that did this.”

 

Hutch’s struggling subsided only marginally.  “I have a lead—a good one,” Starsky said, dropping his voice to keep the sheriff from overhearing.  “It’s gonna take both of us, partner.  Me and Thee.”  Knowing he had Hutch’s attention, he continued in a soothing voice.  “You’re playin’ right into his hands, buddy.  Think about your mother—think about your dad—they don’t need this.  They don’t deserve to see you thrown in jail for assaultin’ a police officer—even if he is pond scum.”

 

The fight drained from Hutch’s body, as Starsky’s words finally began to hit home.  “Now, I’m gonna let you up, okay?  But ya gotta promise you won’t hit him.  Hmmm?”

 

Hutch nodded.  Starsky grinned at him mischievously.  “You can hit him later—deal?” 

 

Realizing Starsky was right, Hutch smiled back, the burning anger in his ice blue eyes dissipating only slightly.  Tipping his head to one side, he replied, “Well, since you put it that way....”

 

Starsky relaxed and released his hold, and, as the two men untangled and got to their feet, Sheriff Dotson backed away another foot.  “I should run you in for assaulting an officer of the law, Hutchinson.”

 

“He didn’t lay a finger on you, Sheriff,” Starsky reminded him.  “Now, if you don’t have any more ‘official’ police business to discuss, I suggest you get the hell outta here, before my partner forgets his manners again.”

 

Dotson opened the car door and got in.  Once it was closed and he felt safely out of reach, he yelled out the window, “You’d both better stay out of my way, or I’ll throw your asses in jail!  You’d be wise to remember this is my town and I’m in charge.”

 

The two men stood silently watching the car speed down the gravel drive, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake.  Starsky turned and faced Hutch, laying his hand on the blond’s shoulder, offering comfort.  “I’m sorry he beat me here, Hutch.  I wanted to be the one to tell you about the autopsy.”

 

Hutch’s eyes were downcast, hiding the anguish Starsky knew they held.

 

“I know how you feel, but—”

 

“No, you don’t.  Don’t even say that, Starsky.  How could you know how I feel?  Your sister wasn’t raped and murdered.  Hell, you don’t even have a sister!”

 

When he saw the hurt in Starsky’s eyes, Hutch instantly regretted the thoughtless remark.  “Listen, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.  I know about your dad, and I don’t mean to diminish what happened to him when I say this, but it’s not the same.  Not worse, just different.  It’s different from the way I felt when Gillian died.  It’s different how I felt when my grandfather died.  Unless you’ve been through losing a sister or a brother, you can’t possibly understand what I’m feeling right now.”

 

Starsky took a deep breath and contemplated whether this was the time or place.  Glancing around, he spied a wooden glider under the giant oak tree a few feet away. 

 

“Come on over here,” he said, taking Hutch’s arm and directing him to the swing.  “I think it’s time we had a talk.”

 

When Hutch didn’t move, Starsky arched one eyebrow and asked stubbornly, “Are ya comin’ or not?”

 

Hutch reached up, rubbing the brow between his eyes.  Too tired and drained to argue, he followed Starsky to the glider.  They sat down, and for a few seconds Starsky was quiet.  When he did speak, his voice was soft, like velvet on the night air.

 

“When I was five, Ma had a baby.  Before Nicky...a little girl.  They named her Katherine.  Up until the time she arrived, my parents had spoiled me rotten.”

 

Hutch’s head snapped up, finding it puzzling Starsky had never told him about this before.  “Starsk, you never mentioned a sister.”

 

Starsky’s eyes were downcast, and his voice trembled slightly.  “Yeah, well, I guess outta self-preservation, I buried that hurt a long time ago.”

 

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Hutch offered softly.  “I had no idea.”

 

Starsky lifted his head, stared straight ahead and continued his story.

 

“Katherine wasn’t a healthy baby,” he began.  “Seemed like she was sick all the time, everything from colic to bronchitis.  Since she was sickly, she cried constantly, and Ma had to spend every waking hour takin’ care of her.  Poor Ma.  I know she tried not to neglect me—and she didn’t, really.  I mean, I was fed, my clothes were clean, and I didn’t do without.  But up until then, Ma spent a lot of time with me...reading me books, playing games, takin’ me to the park.  But from my perspective as a five-year-old, Ma didn’t have time for me...only for the new baby.”  Starsky was quiet for a few seconds, leading Hutch to wonder if that was all he was going to say.  But then he continued.

 

“I think the worst part for me was, as soon Pop would get home from work, he’d walk straight to that crib and pick her up.  Walk right by me.  No time for horsy-rides on his shoulders, no time for teachin’ me how to catch a ball.  No time for anything but Katherine.”

 

“Starsk, all kids go through feelings of sibling rivalry when a new baby arrives,” Hutch told him.

 

“Yeah, I guess.  But most kids get over it.  Katherine was so tiny and so frail.  By the time she was two, I think Ma and Pop knew she wasn’t gonna get better.  All I could see when I looked at her was this little person who had stolen my parents’ affection from me.”  He looked up at the stars.  “I’m ashamed to admit it, Hutch, but I’d stand there looking at her, thinkin’ that I wished she’d never been born.”

 

Hutch heard the pain in Starsky’s voice and held his silence.  “When she was two, she contracted polio and died.  Ma nearly lost her mind, and Pop—well, I never saw my Pop in so much pain.  And there I was, seven years old, thinkin’ she died because I had wished she’d never been born.  I couldn’t talk to anyone about it ’cause I thought I was responsible.  At that age, I didn’t understand the difference between hate and jealousy.  Of course, they poured all their attention and affection on me then, like before, and I was certain my terrible thoughts about my little sister were what caused her to die.”

 

“You can’t beat yourself up over that, Starsk.  A lot of children died from polio when you and I were small.  It wasn’t all that uncommon.”

 

Starsky turned his face and saw Hutch’s eyes in the moonlight.  They seemed to glisten, and Starsky wondered if they were filled with sympathetic tears for him and the little girl he never got to know.  “Yeah, they did.  But they weren’t my little sister.  Hutch, what I’m tryin’ to say is, I do know how you feel.  True, Karen’s death is all the more tragic because of the way it happened; but still, I know the emptiness you’re feelin’ right now.  When you lose a brother or a sister, it’s like a little part of you dies, too.  I can’t make it up to Katherine, but I can help you find out who’s responsible for Karen’s death.  And I’m givin’ you my solemn oath that I will.”

 

Moved by his friend’s promise, Hutch reached out, laying his hand on Starsky’s shoulder, hoping to express by touch what he couldn’t seem to put into words.  The cool air swirled around them, and a light dusting of delicate snowflakes began to fall.  Starsky was the first to disturb the quiet.  When he spoke, his voice was still tinged with sadness.

 

“Come on...partner.  Let’s go in and see if there’s any coffee, and I’ll fill you in on what I’ve found out so far.”

 

As they stood up and walked toward the house, Hutch saw Sam’s face pressed against the glass of the floor-to-ceiling window in the den, his tail wagging a warm welcome.  Somehow, Hutch didn’t feel quite so empty now.

 

˜ ™