False Accusation continued

By Lutra Cana

A thousand thoughts chased each other around in his head. Police? In this house, wanting to talk to him? The first thought that lay still long enough for him to look at it was about his mother. "Ma? Did something happen to my mother?" Dobey knew where the two of them were staying and his whole family knew that if they couldn't reach him at home, or at Hutch's, that the next best place was the station.

"Mom didn't say. Just said that there were two police detectives downstairs and that they wanted to talk to you. She said that they wouldn't tell her anything. You know that's SOP, Starsk." Hutch handed him a bath towel. "Here, dry off and get dressed. I'll throw some clothes on and go down with you." He disappeared.

Moving as quickly as his shaking hands allowed, Starsky gave himself a sketchy rubdown. Throwing the towel on the floor he headed for his room and pulled on clean jeans and a t-shirt. He couldn't find the shoes he'd worn last night, so he thought, screw it and went barefoot. Going back through the bathroom he entered Hutch's room in time to find his partner tying his own shoes.

Wordlessly, Hutch patted Starsky's shoulder and walked beside him down the hall, down the stairs, and down the other hallway to the kitchen.

The room, bathed in early morning light, smelled of fresh coffee and something newly baked. Hutch's parents sat at the table by the bay window and looked worried. Two strangers in suits leaned against one of the counters and looked bored. They stood straight when the partners entered the room. Richard Hutchinson, his face pale from lack of sleep, gestured towards Hutch and Starsky. "This is my son, Ken and his friend David Starsky. Now are you going to tell us what this is all about, Detective Inglehart?"

One of the detectives, a tall blond, smiled thinly at Richard, then turned to the partners. "I'm Detective Inglehart and this is my partner, Detective Cruthers." He gestured towards the other detective, a short black man. "We'd like to talk to Mr. Starsky alone."

Starsky looked at Hutch, then back to Inglehart. "Whatever you have to tell me, you can say it in front of Hutch. I've no secrets from him. Or his folks." He steeled himself for the worse. Must be really bad news. They must have sent these two out of brotherly respect or something.

Inglehart glanced at his own partner. "I don't think this is something you'd want to discuss in front of others, Mr. Starsky. We need to question you concerning a police matter." His voice was hard, not sympathetic, as Hutch's or Starsky's would have been if they were about to deliver news of a family member's death.

"Just what kind of 'police matter' are we talking about here, gentlemen? We just got in last night, and except for the trip from the airport, we've been here since our plane landed." Hutch's voice was cold. Starsky could tell that his partner didn't like what was going on and was beginning to get defensive. He lay a quieting hand on Hutch's arm.

"What my partner is trying to say is that we're willing to cooperate if you'd just explain what is going on." Smiling his most innocent smile, Starsky stepped a little closer to Hutch, hoping to control his headstrong partner, knowing that if Hutch blew up, they'd never learn anything.

"Very well, but remember that you're the one who refused to do this quietly." Inglehart drew out a small notebook and flipped it open. Referring to it, he asked, "Do you know a Chris Vetter?"

Shaking his head, Starsky looked at Hutch. Hutch appeared as perplexed as he did. "No, I don't think so. I don't remember any Vetter involved in any of our cases, do you Hutch?"

"What do you mean, 'our cases'?" Cruthers interrupted Hutch's reply.

Starsky and Hutch exchanged puzzled glances. "I thought you knew. That that was the reason you're here."

"Mr. Starsky, you're beginning to tire me. Know what?" Inglehart moved closer to Starsky, trying to get inside his "space" and intimidate him. A trick Starsky had used many times himself. Unfortunately for Inglehart, Starsky didn't intimidate easily.

"Hutch and I are police detectives - sergeants - with the Metro Division in LA. If you're not here about one of our cases, or about a family matter, what the hell do you want with me?" It was Hutch's turn to lay a restraining hand on Starsky. The large hand gripped his shoulder, lending a little reassurance. "Excuse me, Helen. I apologize for swearing."

"That's alright, David. And Chris Vetter is one of the neighborhood girls. She and her parents were at the party last evening. Laura Vetter and I golf together at the country club." Helen came to stand beside her son and his friend. "Detective Inglehart, what happened to Chris? She was perfectly fine when I saw her late last night."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hutchinson. We'll be questioning you and your husband in a few minutes. But we'd like to talk to your houseguest first. Now, Mr. Starsky," Inglehart's voice held a slight sneer when he said "Mr." and the look on his face was one of disdain. "Do you, or do you not, admit to knowing Chris Vetter?"

"Wait. Helen, is Chris about so high," Starsky held his hand at chest height, "with long, black hair? Sixteen or so?" At Helen's nod, he turned back to the Duluth detectives. "Yes, I know who she is. I talked to her for a few minutes last night. Why, what's happened to her?"

"What did you two talk about?" Cruthers asked.

"I don't know. She asked if I was Hutch's partner. I guess she goes to school with Hutch's cousin, Rickie. She asked me if I wanted to dance and I told her no. We talked about a few other things, then I went back into the house. I supposed, if I thought about it at all, that she'd gone to dance with the other kids." Starsky remembered Chris's innocent eyes and feared the worst.

"What did you do after you went back into the house, Mr. Starsky?" Inglehart again.

"I looked to see what Hutch was doing. He was talking to his dad and I didn't want to interrupt. So I went upstairs and to bed."

"Did anyone see you go up the stairs? And what time was that?" Cruthers. Starsky knew what they were doing. He and Hutch used the "tennis match" method themselves to confuse a perp. His palms started to sweat.

"I don't know if anyone saw me or not. I know I didn't see anyone. As for the time, I'm not sure. Sometime around ten, I guess."

"Can anyone verify that you went to bed, Mr. Starsky?" Inglehart.

"Well, if you're asking me if I had anyone with me - no." Starsky was beginning to get a little miffed.

"Why did you go to bed so early? After all, it's two hours difference between here and Los Angeles. It would have only been about eight your time." Cruthers.

"I was tired."

"Why?"

Starsky had felt the pressure building up in Hutch through the hand that had slipped from his shoulder to rest on his back. He was half-expecting the explosion when it happened, but was still not prepared for it.

"My partner, Mr. Inglehart, was severely injured last year in the line of duty and is still suffering residual effects from it. We had a heavy caseload that we were required to work many hours of over-time on in the last few days in order to make this trip. Which, I might add, was long and tiring all on its own. If Starsky says he was tired, then he was tired. My partner does not make a habit of lying." Hutch's tone was the one that the people who knew him hated. It meant he was beyond angry. Most people knew to leave, and fast, when Hutch got like this.

Starsky leaned into the hand on his back. "It's okay, Hutch. They're just doing their job. It'll be fine." Calm down, partner. Starsky hoped that his message got through. He was interested to note that Helen calmly put her arm around Hutch's waist and laid her head against his arm. He felt some of the tension bleed out of the hand connecting the three of them.

"You still haven't told us what this is all about, Detective. What happened to Chris and is she all right?" Starsky was proud of himself at how calm he sounded.

"We'll get to that in a few minutes. We're still trying to establish your whereabouts. Now, did you leave your room for any reason at all after you went to bed at ten." Inglehart picked up the questioning as if Hutch hadn't said a word. Starsky knew that the outburst had been filed away for future reference. But Inglehart had just asked the one question Starsky had hoped not to be asked.

Oh Lord. Now how do I explain this one? "I got up once to go to the bathroom. But the bathroom and my bedroom are connected. Hutch's and my room share it. So I guess you could say that, no, I didn't leave my room all night." There, the truth. Even if it is a bit fudged.

Cruthers looked at Hutch. "What time did you go to bed, Mr. Hutchinson?"

Hutch took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know for sure. The last of the guests left around midnight. I guess it was about twelve thirty or so. Give or take a few minutes."

"Did you notice if Mr. Starsky was in his room when you arrived in yours?" Inglehart.

"Yes. He'd left his bathroom door slightly ajar and I looked in. He was fast asleep."

"Could you tell if he'd been there long?" Cruthers.

"He was asleep. That's all I can tell you. But like I said, if Starsky said he went to bed around ten, you can lay book on it." Hutch still sounded angry but at least he was in control again.

Inglehart. "Gambling's illegal in Minnesota, Mr. Hutchinson. What time, previous to noting he was in bed, did you last see or speak to Mr. Starsky?"

Starsky pressed back harder on that hand. Stay calm, Hutch. You know he's only trying to rattle ya.

Hutch ran his hand up Starsky's back to just below his shoulder blade. The message loud and clear - I'm okay. Don't worry. "I'm not sure. Mom had taken us upstairs to show us our rooms about seven thirty or so, wasn't it, Starsk?" Starsky nodded. "We were there for a bit, talking. Then my cousin Rickie came to get us because my Uncle Karl wanted to do a little presentation to my parents. They're leaving in a few days on an extended vacation. I guess that was about eight. After that, Starsky and I went different ways. I saw him a few times, but didn't speak to him. I can't say for positive the last time I saw him before he went up to sleep. I didn't see him again until I went up to bed."

Cruthers. "You're sure of your times, Mr. Hutchinson? You didn't see Mr. Starsky between eleven and midnight?"

"No. But if he said he was in bed, asleep, then that's where he was."

"That's too bad. If you could have established an alibi for him, while it wouldn't have exonerated him, it would have helped him." Inglehart tapped his notebook with the pen he'd been scribbling notes with. "Now, Mr. Starsky. When you spoke to Miss Vetter, did you touch her?"

"Huh?" Starsky had to think. Last night seemed a long time ago. "We were talking and, yeah, I guess I touched her. I was trying to make a point and I took her chin in my hand. But I didn't hurt her, just held her head still so she had to look at me."

"Do you like touching young girls, Mr. Starsky?" Cruthers.

Starsky bristled. "Yeah, I like touching girls. Women. But I don't mess with kids. I do have some scruples. She's only sixteen. I wasn't interested in her. If anything, I couldn't stop thinking that I was old enough to be her father. I was feeling down right ancient last night." He tried a smile, but neither of the other two detectives paid any attention.

"So, what you're telling us is that you like girls you could be old enough to be the father of? Is that what you're telling us, Mr. Starsky?"

"Of all the sick, twisted...." It took both Starsky and Helen to restrain Hutch.

Richard came up and laid a hand on his son's shoulder. The three Hutchinsons presented an united front as they stood with Starsky in their midst, enveloping him in their protection. "I think it's about time you tell us what's going on, detectives. David is a guest in our house, and has been friends and partners with our son for over ten years. None of us appreciates your insinuations. Especially since you haven't told us why you are making them. What happened to Chris Vetter?" Richard's voice held the same quality of restrained violence that Hutch's had earlier. But his was flatter, more controlled. And all the more frightening for it.

Inglehart looked from the group in the middle of the kitchen to his partner then back. "All right. Sometime between eleven and midnight, Chris Vetter was attacked. Taken out into the fields behind this house. She was beaten and raped. Luckily, she survived and was able to identify her rapist. She says it was you, Mr. Starsky."

*****

Everyone was talking - loudly - and all at the same time. Everyone except Starsky and Inglehart. They stood silently and stared at each other.

Rape? Starsky couldn't think past that ugly word. He held a special contempt for rapists, having seen all too often the aftermath of their work. Not just the broken bodies of their victims, but the ruined psyches left to deal with the ultimate violation. Starsky knew that for many of the victims he'd worked with in his time - the women, the children, and the men - that death would have been preferable.

He'd been accused of many things over the years. Some of them he was even guilty of. But never this, never anything so ultimately wrong. Starsky felt as if someone had taken a sledgehammer and hit him full in the chest with it.

He realized he wasn't breathing right.

Strong hands grabbed him and he found himself sitting on a chair with a glass of water pressed to his lips. "Drink, Starsky." Words that only made sense because Hutch said them prompted him, and he obeyed. The water almost choked him before he remembered how to swallow, and then he found that he could breathe again.

Looking up into his partner's worried eyes; Starsky could only feel bewilderment. "I didn't...."

"I know you didn't do it, Starsk. I know you didn't. We'll prove you innocent." Hutch was on his knees beside Starsky. All Starsky seemed to be able to make himself do was stare into those clear blue eyes staring back at him. "You okay now, babe?" Hutch whispered the last, his hand trembling against Starsky's back.

Starsky couldn't figure out why everyone was staring at him. Or why he felt dizzy. But he knew why he was scared. Rape. Oh, God. And his chest started to hurt again. Arms wrapped around him and cradled his head against a shoulder.

"I think he should lie down for a minute. Mom? Is that couch still in the office?" Hutch's voice rumbled against his cheek, but he couldn't make his mind work around the words. He heard a woman's voice say something and then he was being drawn to his feet. "C'mon, buddy. I'm going to take you into the next room." He tried to think about making his legs work. Luckily, instinct set in and he was able to stumble along beside Hutch across the kitchen and through a door into a small room. Hutch sat him gently down again and then urged him to lie down.

"Hutch, I don't need...."

"Starsky, shut up. Let me be the judge of this. You didn't see how you looked out there." Hutch pushed another cushion under Starsky's head to join the one already there. "You've had a shock, and with that on top of being worn out, your brain must have decided to take a hike." He pulled a plaid blanket from the back of the couch and spread it on Starsky. "You just lie there for a minute and let your body and your brain reconnect for a bit. Dad's calling Uncle Karl and Katie's husband, Dennis. You're not to move or talk until they get here."

"Why? And Hutch, I'm fine. Honest." Starsky attempted to sit up to prove his point and was very glad that Hutch's hand was there to ease him back down as the world swam around him.

"That's why. Listen, you moron," Hutch dropped to his knees beside the couch and spoke quietly. "Those two turkeys out there are determined to prove you guilty. Uncle Karl is the best defense attorney in this state. Now I know you didn't do anything, but it won't hurt to have a lawyer around if those jerks try to start something. And it might keep me from being brought up on assault charges." Hutch smiled grimily. "As for Dennis, he's a doctor. We might as well keep this in the family."

Starsky closed his eyes trying to stop the nausea that threatened to embarrass him. "Hutch?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Why would she say that I ra..... God, I can't even say the word. Why, Hutch?" Everything was out of control. And that was one thing that Starsky always hated. He craved control the way addicts craved dope. Especially since the shooting. An event that had caused him to lose complete control over even the basics of his life for far too long. And now, it was reaching out its dark fingers and snatching his strength from him when he needed it the most.

Hutch stroked Starsky's head. "I don't know, babe. But I aim to find out." A new loud voice added itself to the noise level in the kitchen, distracting Hutch. "That's Karl. Rest, Starsk, while I go and see what's happening. Fill Karl in. Try not to worry, okay? Can I get you anything?" Starsky carefully shook his head "no." Hutch held his hand motionless on Starsky's head for a minute, looking deep into his eyes. He leaned forward, an intense look of something - love - determination - resolve - on his face.

"I love you, Starsky. I'm not going to let them do this to you. Believe me." Hutch's voice was a hoarse whisper. Then he was up and out of the room before Starsky could form a reply.

Feeling totally useless - and scared half out of his mind - Starsky lay on the couch trying to think. But the voices from the kitchen drowned out any hopes of coherent thought. He smiled weakly when he heard Hutch shout for - and get - the attention of the rest of the group.

"Everyone be quiet! Mom, Dad - please, why don't you go into the living room for now? I need to talk to Karl and these two. Oh, and Mom? When Dennis shows, will you send him straight back here? I'll take him into Starsky then." Starsky heard Helen say something in her sweet, light voice and the low rumble of what must have been Richard. Then things got quieter. The low murmur of voices continued, but he couldn't make out the words. After a while, he drifted into a half sleep.

Starsky had no idea how much time passed as he drowsed fitfully on the office couch. A hand on his forehead and fingers on his wrist wakened him. "Hutch?" He muttered, still partially asleep.

"No, Dave. It's Dennis Aberget. Just lie still and let me do a quick exam here. Are you feeling better? Ken said you fainted." Starsky opened one eye and peered up at the face hovering over him. He remembered this one. Hutch's sister Katie's husband. They'd been introduced to each other on the fly last evening.

"I didn't faint." Starsky protested, "I just felt weird for a minute is all. Hutch over-reacted."

"Hmm. So, how are you feeling now?" Dennis took out a stethoscope and laid it against Starsky's chest. He peered off into the distance the way doctors do when they're listening to the inner workings.

"Tired. But fine. Look, is all this really necessary?"

"Yes. I know about what happened to you last year, Dave. When we found out about the shooting, I got in contact with your doctors in LA. They kept me advised of your condition - professional courtesy. I know about your heart and all the rest. I'm going to make sure that we send you back to your Captain in good shape. Besides, I think Ken would kill me if I allowed anything to happen to you. He's out there looking like a mad bulldog. Or a mother eagle with a wounded eaglet." Dennis talked as he examined Starsky. Made him sit up and lift his shirt so that Dennis could put the cold stethoscope against his back. Took his blood pressure and looked at his eyes.

Starsky had never experienced such a fast but thorough exam in his life. Dennis sat back in the chair he had pulled up beside the couch. "Well? Am I going to live, doctor?" Starsky asked, only half-kidding, rubbing his arm where the blood pressure cuff had pinched it.

"Oh yes. Your heart sounds fine, your blood pressure and pulse are normal. I'd say that between lack of sleep, no food - you hadn't eaten yet, had you? No? Didn't think so. That and the shock of being accused of something so awful out of the blue like that sent you into a short-lived state of shock. Could happen to anyone." He shifted uncomfortably on the chair, then leaned forward. "Dave, may I be nosy here for just a minute?"

Starsky looked at this man who his partner had entrusted with him. Tall, dark and just homely enough to be comfortable looking, he and Katie appeared to be entirely in love with each other. Starsky remembered listening at one point last night to the two of them joking with Hutch about how great married life was and when was he going to give it another go. Hutch had just smiled and said some smart remark. But Starsky had warmed when Hutch lifted his eyes and searched him out. And smiled at him in that way that made his knees weak.

"You can be as nosy as you want. Doesn't mean I have to satisfy your curiosity." Starsky swung his legs off the couch and sat with his head against the couch back. Wishing that it had all been a dream. That he'd walk out into the kitchen and find everything returned to normal.

"True. If I say anything to offend you, I apologize in advance. But we may have a way out of this whole mess without you having to go through any more questioning by those two gorillas in bad suits out there." Starsky found Dennis' description of the detectives amusing as Dennis was as tall as Inglehart, twice as broad through the shoulders, and currently dressed in a three-piece suit.

"I'm open to suggestions at this point. At least until we can find out why that poor kid is lying." Starsky checked to make sure that the office door was closed.

"If you and Ken are...um...exclusive, then I could tell those donkeys that you'd never be interested enough in a woman to rape her. I mean, I know that some gay men are attracted to women as well, but I could probably be pretty convincing from a medical standpoint." Dennis' voice faded off as he realized that his patient was staring at him with his mouth open in shock. "Oh, God. You two aren't...? Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Dave. I just thought that, well...you two just seemed to be so.... Damn."

Starsky felt a wild minute of freedom. Someone knows, and they don't care. But reality set back in. No matter what their intentions were, they were not lovers. Not yet. And to tell anyone that they were and make it sound as long-term as Dennis had thought it was would be a lie. And Starsky had never been good at lying when it was personal. Give him a persona for an undercover job or the need to lie to a suspect to get them to tell the truth - fine, no problem. But he'd never carry off this kind of lie. And he couldn't ask his partner to do it either. Especially when he still wasn't sure if Hutch was ready to "come out" to his parents.

And, under the circumstances, this was not the perfect time to come out to anyone. And if things went bad - and all indications were that they might just - there may never be a perfect time. For anything.

Dennis was still trying to apologize for his - he thought - erroneous assumption. Starsky took pity on him and leaned forward to pat his arm. "It's okay, Dennis. Lots of people have thought lots of things about Hutch and me over the years. You just surprised me because no one's ever came right out and said it so bluntly before." Starsky stopped and sat for a minute as another reality hit home. It was only a matter of time before he and Hutch told Hutch's family the truth. And even if they hadn't physically consummated their relationship, hadn't they really been lovers for a long time? In all the ways that mattered?

He knew that Dennis was waiting for him to say *something*. Starsky just wasn't sure what. But they had to start somewhere and this man was a doctor and as such, sworn to secrecy. And he was to the point where he felt they needed someone on their side that knew the truth. All of it. Starsky decided to take a leap of faith.

"Hutch and I *are* extremely close, so close sometimes it amazes even us. I'm not sure what you'd call us. Hell, we're not even sure what to call each other. Hutch and I...well, we came to Duluth because Hutch wanted to tell his parents about us. Explain the way it is and the way it's going to be." Starsky looked down at his hands clutching the blanket and forced himself to let go. "Hutch and I have never made love. We only realized that we both felt the same way about each other a short time ago. We've just never had the time, or the energy to do anything about it." He glanced back up at Dennis; an embarrassed smile working it's way across his face. "It's kinda embarrassing when you come down to it. We're like two kids in love, trying to sneak around for a tryst and everywhere we turn there's some adult in our way." Starsky ran his hand through his hair pushing the already messy curls to an even wilder state.

Leaning back in his chair, arms folded, Dennis sat with an unreadable expression on his face. Starsky felt like squirming under that stern regard but forced himself still. This was Hutch's little sister's husband after all. Maybe he'd just made one of the biggest mistakes he'd ever made. God, Hutch. I hope I haven't hurt you by doing this. Then Dennis smiled.

"Well, I'm pleased to know that I haven't lost my mind completely. I was so sure last night the way you two were acting towards each other that you were together. And to be honest, I don't care. Other than I want Katie's brother to be happy. And if you're what makes him happy, then I'm all for it." Starsky felt almost faint with relieve. "Now, I guess the next question is, what do you want me to tell those detectives?"

As appealing as Dennis' little plan was, Starsky knew it would never work. "I don't think trying to convince those detectives that Hutch and I are lovers would work anyway." He smiled self-effacingly. "I'm afraid I've a bit of a reputation back home for being a ladies' man and I'm sure it wouldn't be all that hard for them to find that out." Starsky grew serious again. "But I swear to you, Dennis, on everything I hold dear - my mother's heart, my honor as a cop, or even my partner's life - that I've never, never forced anyone to do anything they didn't want to do for sex. And I never would. That little girl and I had a brief conversation and that was the extent of it."

Dennis looked at Starsky, clearly weighing the truth of what Starsky said. Finally, he nodded. "I believe you, Dave. Partially because I think I'm a pretty good judge of character, and I believe you're being truthful with me. But mostly I believe you because I know Ken, know what kind of person he is. I know he wouldn't - couldn't - be friends with someone who would molest a child that way. Now we just have to figure out why she would claim it was you who hurt her."

"Yeah, and we're not going to do that sitting in here. So, Doctor. Am I cleared for duty?" Starsky grinned.

"After you have something to eat. I don't want you *not* fainting on us again. I don't think Ken could take that without blowing a gasket." Dennis laughed. "And I'm not leaving, or letting those jokers at you, until I'm sure that you're all right."

"Yes, sir." Starsky sketched a mock salute. Standing was interesting. He swayed, still dizzy but refused the hand that Dennis offered. "No, I'm okay. But I think I'd better take your advice and eat something pretty soon. Even though I had a lot to eat early on last night, that was hours ago and I'm used to having *something* to eat by now." Starsky headed for the door, Dennis grabbing up his medical bag, right behind him.

The four men sitting around the table fell silent when Starsky opened the office door and walked into the room. Hutch was on his feet and across to the pair before Starsky had taken more than five steps into the kitchen.

Gripping Starsky's shoulder, he looked into his eyes. "You okay, Starsk?"

Reaching up to cover the hand on his shoulder with his own hand, Starsky smiled at his worried partner. "Yeah, I'm fine, Hutch. Dennis thinks I got woozy from lack of food." Casting a glance at the detectives glaring at him from the table, he added, "Among other things."

"Woozy? Is that what we're calling it?" Hutch's grin was strained, but at least it was a grin.

"Yeah, now unless you want me getting all light-headed again, help me find something to eat, will ya?"

Ignoring the rest of the kitchen's occupants as best they could, the partners busied themselves fixing Starsky his delayed breakfast. Inglehart tried once to resume his questioning of Starsky, but Dennis stopped him before two words were out of his mouth.

"My patient needs to eat before you start questioning him again, sir. And if you persist in endangering his well being, I will speak to your superior officer and lay charges of police harassment. And as I play racquetball with the commissioner once a week, I'm sure I will be listened to with far more respect than you've shown Sergeant Starsky this morning." Dennis' voice held just the right amount of righteous indignation to quell the detective.

Hutch and Starsky exchanged amused glances behind Inglehart's back. Starsky stepped close to Hutch and whispered, "Are you sure he's your brother-in-law and not your brother? Sounds an awful lot like a certain blond partner I know." Hutch's only answer was a gentle hip bump and a little smirk. Starsky barely kept from bursting out laughing.

Finally, the partners had a breakfast of toast, scrambled eggs, juice, and coffee assembled and they moved to the table. Hutch pointedly stared at Cruthers until he gave up his spot on the outside of the table and moved to one nearer the window. Hutch sat down the plate he was holding, and gestured for Starsky to sit. Reaching across Inglehart to gather knife and fork from a little holder in the middle of the table, Hutch looked at Starsky and winked.

With everyone at the table watching him eat, Starsky found himself thinking about every mouthful and felt very self-conscious. But he wasn't going to allow the two detectives to think he was nervous because he was guilty so he made a great show of enjoying his meal. And he played it to Hutch who sat just to his right around the curve of the round table. Sitting with his back half to the other detectives, he carefully buttered his toast and scooped on globs of strawberry jam. Ran his tongue over his lip to capture a wayward bit of jam while locking glances with Hutch. Watched Hutch through his eyelashes as he drank his juice. He knew that Dennis and Karl were watching this little performance, but at that moment, he didn't care. They were family, Dennis already knew and as far as Starsky knew, so did Karl. It was only a matter of time, if Hutch and Starsky had their way, that the other members of the family who needed to know, would know.

And if Inglehart and Cruthers had their way, this might be the last time he got to flirt with his partner for a very long time. That thought hurt him deep in his soul.

By the time Starsky laid his fork on the cleaned plate, Inglehart was practically vibrating. He wasted no time in verbally pouncing on Starsky and his "defense team."

"It would appear that your patient has finished his meal, Dr. Aberget. May I continue my questioning?" Inglehart's voice practically dripped with sarcasm.

"Oh it's fine by me, but Mr. Lundstrom may have some thoughts on the matter." Dennis smiled sweetly at the detective. Starsky almost choked on his mouthful of coffee and Hutch had to put a hand over his mouth and turn away. Karl arched an eyebrow at his nephew-in-law. Then he too, smiled sweetly at Inglehart, although he reminded Starsky more of a shark than the kindly, old uncle he was trying to portray.

"Oh, I have no objections to questioning as long as my client feels up to answering. David," he turned to Starsky, "are you feeling up to answering a few more questions that Detective Inglehart has?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Starsky leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out. He still sat with his back half turned; a mild show of contempt for the proceedings but one that the other detectives couldn't call him on. He hadn't interviewed thousands of witnesses over the years without learning a few things about how to tick off an investigator. Besides, this way he could look at Hutch's handsome face instead of Inglehart's hard one.

"Very well. Mr. Starsky, you said you went to bed at about ten o'clock. Are you positive of the time?

"Pretty close. I had reset my watch to local time when we were at the airport in Minneapolis." He held his arm out to show the detective his watch and then remembered it was sitting on the nightstand in his room. "Well, anyway, I'd reset my watch and I looked at it before I turned off the light. It was about twenty after. It had taken me a few minutes from the time I'd come upstairs until I was ready for bed. I'd had to move my bags from Hutch's room and find my shaving kit and all that." He crossed his legs, "accidentally" bumping Hutch's ankle with his bare right foot.

"Did you hear anything unusual - any loud noises or voices, say - after you retired?" Inglehart leaned as far forward as he could to see Starsky's face.

"I could hear the music playing outside, but it wasn't loud. And the kids were having a good time. Nothing out-of-the-ordinary. But ya got to remember; I'm from LA where some nights it seems like everyone on the block's having a party. Including me. So, no, I can't say I heard anything unusual under the circumstances." Starsky picked up the fork on his plate and pushed the toast crumbs and egg bits into patterns.

Cruthers stood and Starsky looked up at him. The detective gestured at his partner and the two of them left the table and went into the little office.

"Now what are they up to?" Dennis asked no one in particular.

"It's an old interrogator's trick, Dennis. Supposed to make the perp nervous thinking that they're coming up with some grand plan to trap them." Hutch answered. Then he turned to his uncle who was sitting beside him. "Karl, tell Starsky what you told me earlier."

Karl looked from Hutch to Starsky and back again. "You sure?" At Hutch's nod, Karl looked at Starsky again. "Those two haven't been partners very long. In fact, Cruthers has only been with the Duluth police force for a little over two months. The department recruited him here from Cleveland when they realized that they were short on qualified people. I've heard rumors that he left his old position under a bit of a cloud. And that Inglehart isn't too happy having him for a partner. Inglehart's partner took early retirement a few months before they teamed him up with Cruthers. It's definitely not a match made in heaven."

"So what does this do for me?" Starsky couldn't see where Karl was going with this.

"They've got something to prove. Since they teamed up, they haven't had a very good success rate on closing cases. Less than twenty-five percent from what I've heard. Inglehart is in line for promotion, and if they don't improve their statistics, it isn't going to help him any when the review board looks at him." Karl took a sip from the mug in front of him, grimacing at the cold sludge in the bottom of it.

Hutch lay a hand on Starsky's arm. "That's why they're trying to push this so hard. They figure they've got an open and shut case here. They've got an ID from the victim and a nice handy suspect that's not going anywhere. Besides, did you see the way Inglehart looked at you when he found out you're a sergeant? That man's jealous. You're at least five years younger than he is and probably don't fit his idea of what a detective sergeant should look like." Starsky looked down at his faded jeans and bare feet. He had to admit he probably hadn't made a very good first impression. Starsky looked at Karl.

"So now what?" This all felt so strange. He'd been the subject of a couple of IA probes and been on the hot seat more times than he liked to remember. But this time he couldn't even fight to defend himself. It was his word against the girl's and unless someone convinced her to tell the truth, he was in very deep trouble.

Karl leaned forward, hands folded, and looked at Starsky levelly. "Keep telling the truth. Ken vouches for your integrity, which is good enough for me. I'm going to do my best to keep them from arresting you at this time, although that may happen. We need time to get our own evidence together and to try and find out what really happened. As long as we can keep you here, in this house, we've a far better chance of proving your innocence. And finding who really raped that child. I'm going to ask them to give me some time to interview you and the other witnesses. I don't know if it will work, but I'll try. I've dealt with these two before, and they're sloppy. Mean, but sloppy." They all looked up when they heard the office door open. In a quiet voice, Karl added, "Just stay calm. Whatever they ask, don't over-react."

Inglehart and Cruthers sat back down at the table. Cruthers stared at Starsky with an openly hostile glare. "Mr. Starsky, your friend here says that you were severely injured last year and are still suffering some "residual effects" from your injuries. Can you explain what some of these effects would be?"

Starsky looked over at Karl who shrugged. "I don't know what that has to do with this." Cruthers made a huffing noise when Starsky hesitated. "Tiredness. If I don't get enough sleep, I tend to get like I was last night. But once I've gotten some rest I'm good to go again. Um...." Starsky paused and looked at Hutch. There were a few things he hadn't even told his partner because they hadn't affected his work and he didn't want to worry him. But it wouldn't be any problem for the detectives to get the information as all of it was in his file. It had been required as a condition of his return to work.

"I get headaches. The doctors told me that I might get them for the rest of my life but that they wouldn't affect my performance as a police officer. I take stuff for that. The muscles in my back and chest were damaged. My right arm is weaker than it was but I do exercises and it's getting stronger. And as I'm left handed, it doesn't affect my performance as a police officer either." Hutch's hand still rested on Starsky's outstretched right arm. His fingers gripped it a little tighter then relaxed. Starsky was afraid to look at him. "And I have some gaps in my memory of the period right before and for a space afterwards. The doctors said that was normal under the circumstances and not to worry about it. It hasn’t affected my ability to do my work, so I don't think about it. Much."

Cruthers looked up from the notes he was making. "You're left-handed?"

"Yeah." Starsky looked pointedly at the mug in his left hand. Cruthers just nodded and made another note.

Inglehart sounded condescending as he asked, "Exactly what was the nature of "injury" you sustained in the "line of duty," Mr. Starsky?"

Before Starsky could answer, Hutch did. His voice was tight with controlled anger. And another emotion that sounded to Starsky an awful lot like fear. "My partner was shot four times in the back by hired assassins, Mr. Inglehart. He was not expected to survive the first twenty-four hours. In fact, he was clinically dead for several minutes. My partner has fought hard to come back to work and no one has had any cause to regret or question his return to duty."

Starsky moved his arm until he could grip Hutch's hand with his own. Karl reached over and laid his hand on Hutch's shoulder. "Sergeant Starsky's injuries and how he acquired them are public record, gentlemen. In fact, they made the papers here when the incident happened. Both of these officers were instrumental in bringing down a major crime syndicate. Are you questioning the validity of his claim? Or just what are you implying?"

Cruthers put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. Picking at a nail, he didn't look at any of the others at the table. "Not exactly implying anything. Except that, sometimes, a severe trauma has been known to cause changes to a person's basic personality. The subject suddenly starts behaving in ways that would have been totally out of character before. I'm just wondering if Mr. Starsky experience has caused one of these shifts in behavior."

Gripping Hutch's hand tighter, hoping to keep the anger he could feel radiating off his partner under some kind of control, Starsky glared at Cruthers. "Why don't you just spit it out and stop dancing around. What are you asking us?"

The black detective looked up at Starsky then gazed pointedly at where Starsky's and Hutch's hands lay clasped tightly together on the tabletop. "I'm trying to find out if there's been any evidence in the last year of sexual deviance, *Sergeant* Starsky. Of any kind."

Starsky couldn't stop himself from looking at his hand clutching his partner's. Hanging on to him like a lifeline. Something he'd done so many times over the years that it had become second nature to reach out for that large warm hand. He could feel the tremors of rage traveling along that connection and for a moment he wasn't sure if it was he or Hutch that was about to blow.

Luckily, for all concerned, Karl stepped in with a snort of derision. "Detective, I hope what it sounds like you're implying isn't really what you mean. And, I for one am going to ignore it for the twaddle it is. These two men are among the most highly decorated and honored police officers in their city. I'm sure that their commanding officers would never have allowed Sergeant Starsky back on duty if there had been any question of either his physical or psychological fitness."

Cruthers had the grace to look embarrassed and Starsky relaxed. But he did not let go of the hand in his. He felt Hutch's fingers move, squeezing an assurance. Starsky sat back and watched Karl work.

"Now, detectives, I believe you have taken up enough of everyone's time this morning. These two men are here to help Sergeant Hutchinson's parents prepare for their trip. I'm due in court in an hour, and I'm sure Dr. Aberget has things he needs to attend to. I'd also like to see what physical evidence you've accumulated before any further accusations are made against my client. So, unless you are planning on arresting Sergeant Starsky right now, I'd suggest you let us go on about our business and you two go out and investigate a bit more. I know Miss Vetter is mistaken in her claim that Sergeant Starsky was her attacker and that if you question her a bit more carefully, I'm sure you will discover that."

Inglehart closed his notebook. Not looking at his partner, he stood and glared down at the four men clustered at the end of the table. "We're going to file our report and speak to the DA's office. I'm sure we'll be back with a warrant before the day is out." Inglehart focused on Starsky, narrowing his eyes. "Don't leave town, Mr. Starsky." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, Cruthers scrambling to catch up.

"Well, that was interesting." Hutch muttered.

"To say the least." Dennis rose, "Karl's right, I've got rounds and I'm already late. Dave, if you need me, I'll be at the hospital until around noon, then my office. Helen knows how to get in touch with me at either place." He stepped around the table and laid a hand on Hutch's shoulder. "Don't worry, Ken. Dave's going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine. You'll see." He sketched a wave at Karl and headed for the door, meeting Helen as she was coming in. They had a brief, quiet talk and then he was gone.

Helen looked after her son-in-law for a moment, then turned to the men in the kitchen. Karl had gotten up and taken his mug to the coffeemaker. Both partners stood when Helen walked over to the table. To Starsky's surprise she put her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. Resting her head on his chest, she enveloped him in warm affection and good perfume. He relaxed into her hold and felt comforted by this unexpected display of emotion. Hutch came up behind his mother and wrapped his long arms around both of them. They stood like that for several minutes giving and receiving reassurance.

"I'm so sorry that this is happening to you, David." Helen's soft voice broke the quiet in the room. She rubbed Starsky's back and pushed away, twisting so she could draw her son's face down and kiss him on the cheek. "You too, Ken. If we had known something like this would happen, your father and I would never have asked you to come. We should have gone out to Los Angeles and visited you there. We should have done that long ago."

"Mom, how could you have seen something like this? And Starsky and I were very happy to come out to help you. Don't worry, everything will be fine. We all know he didn't hurt that girl and it will be only a matter of time for the truth to come out." Hutch smiled down at his mother. "Karl is helping us, and there's no way that they can prove Starsky did this. Don't worry. We've won harder battles than this."

"Yeah, Helen. Don't worry." Starsky put his arm around Helen's shoulder. He hadn't realized how distressed he'd been until she hugged him. Starsky had actually felt the tension run out of his body while Helen held him.

She looked up at him and searched his face with her eyes. "David, are you all right? You frightened me so earlier. If Ken hadn't caught you...."

"I'm fine. Honest. Dennis said it was from being tired and not having anything in my stomach. I'm okay now." Starsky smiled reassuringly at her.

"Let me fix you something to eat." She started to pull away but Hutch stopped her.

"He's fed, Mom. Starsky packed away some eggs. If you keep feeding him, you'll go broke on the groceries." Hutch grinned at his mother. Then his face grew serious again. "Mom, Starsky and I need to talk. I think we'll go back up to our rooms. I threw on what I wore yesterday and I'd like to change. Will you excuse us for awhile?" Hutch took hold of Starsky's elbow and started towards the door. Stopped and looked over his shoulder at his uncle. "Thanks, Karl. For everything."

"My pleasure, Ken. If you need me, call my office. My secretary will know how to get me." Karl raised his refilled mug in salute.

Nodding, Hutch ushered his partner through the door and up the hallway to the stairs. They could hear Richard on the phone in the livingroom as they reached the staircase and he did not sound happy. But Hutch didn't linger, almost pushing Starsky ahead of him up the stairs.

"Hutch, what's gotten into you?" Starsky balked at the rush, stopping on a riser and staring down at his partner.

"I want to discuss a few things with you and I didn't want to do it in front of the whole family. Now, move."

Starsky knew that tone of voice and also knew better than to argue when he heard it. Sighing to himself, he continued up the stairs, Hutch hard on his heels. Reaching their rooms, Starsky opened the door to Hutch's and walked in.

Hutch pushed the door shut with a slam and pointed at the bed. "Sit down."

Oh boy. Starsky sat, trying to keep the anger he felt at Hutch's demanding tone dampened. It wouldn't do to have a yelling match at this stage of the game. Not at all.

He watched as Hutch stalked back and forth beside the bed. Waiting for Hutch to put into words whatever it was that had his partner angry with him. Steeling himself for it. When it didn't seem that Hutch was going to talk to him, Starsky decided to take the bull by the horns. "Hutch, what's the matter, buddy? It's going to be okay. You said so yourself that we've gotten out of worse things than this."

Hutch stopped with his back to Starsky. Head down, hands clenched at his sides. Starsky couldn't read his body language. Rising from the bed, he went to his partner and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Talk to me, Hutch."

For a moment, Starsky wasn't sure that Hutch was going to acknowledge him. Then, Hutch looked up at him with eyes so full of pain that Starsky stepped back in surprise. "Why?" Hutch's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Why what, Hutch?"

Hutch turned towards Starsky and reached out to grasp his upper arms. "Why didn't you tell me? I'm your partner. Your best friend. Why didn't you come to me?"

"Huh? You mean the girl? Hutch...." Starsky felt his heart drop at the thought that Hutch would think such a thing about him.

"Not the damn girl, Starsk. I know you didn't rape her. Not in a million years would I ever believe anything like that about you. Why didn't you tell me about the headaches and the memory loss? Why?" Hutch shook Starsky a little. "I can't stand the thought of you hurting and keeping it from me."

Starsky couldn't think of how to explain his decisions made back before he'd returned to work. Before he was even out of the hospital. How to explain without hurting Hutch worse. But he had to try.

"I didn't say anything because it wouldn't have changed anything. I would still have gotten the headaches; still not remembered stuff. My arm would still have been weak and all the rest of it. None of it affected my ability to do my job. Or my ability to watch out for you. I didn't tell you because it was my decision not to. Isn't that enough?"

The sadness in Hutch's eyes hurt Starsky to look at. But not as bad as the look of betrayal that seemed to skitter across those pale, blue eyes. "No, it's not enough. Damn it, Starsky, we're partners. We're supposed to share things. Especially big things like this. I could have helped you, made things easier for you."

Starsky pulled away from Hutch and stepped back out of his reach. "That's exactly why I didn't tell you. I didn't want anyone making things *easier* for me. Damn it, Hutch. I had to know that I was capable of doing the job for both our sakes. If something happened because you were busy watching out for me, helping me, what good would that have done? Especially if something happened to you because I was being coddled." He turned his back on Hutch and walked over to the window. Pushing aside the curtain, he looked down at the backyard with its sad remnants of the night before's party.

"I needed to know that I could be a cop just like before. I needed to know that I could protect you out there. When the doctors told me about what life would be like when I was well enough to go back to work, I knew I had to learn to live with it. If I still wanted to be your partner. And I wanted that more than anything. If I couldn't...well...then there was no point in me having lived at all." Starsky ignored the little gasp that last statement wrung from Hutch. "I thought that was all I'd ever have of you, being your partner. Out there on the streets. I loved you so damn much and I couldn't tell you. But I'd be the best damn cop I could. And the best damn partner even if I died doing it."

For a moment, he was back in that hospital room, listening to the doctors. Listening as they told him that he'd never be entirely whole again. Never entirely well. He'd be good enough to go back to work, even go back to the streets. But not as he used to be. Never again. And he felt as if he'd failed Hutch. His partner who had sat beside him for hours - days - cheering him on. Telling him how it was going to be when they were partners in truth again. Who had been suffering his own kind of death from the first bullet to the day Starsky walked out of the hospital under his own steam.

The partner he had realized somewhere along the way that he loved more than he had ever loved anyone. The partner to whom he'd made a silent vow that he would take care of him out of love and not just duty. Even if it meant not telling him how badly he hurt.

Starsky leaned his head against the cool windowpane and tried to breathe around the lump in his throat. Around the pain in his chest. Warm hands rested on his shoulders and Hutch laid his cheek against Starsky's.

"Babe, I'm sorry you felt you had to carry this all on your own. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I loved you when I first realized it. But so much was going on that there just never seemed to be the right time. And then you were shot, and things got more complicated."

Starsky turned in Hutch's grasp so he could look into his partner's eyes. "What do you mean 'and then you got shot'? You mean you felt this way *before* that?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure exactly when, but one day I seemed to wake up and I found myself in love. Stupid, huh? I got confused and was still trying to figure out what to do about it when all that shit with the judge happened. And then...then you got hurt and I was too busy willing you to stay alive to worry about it." Starsky was shocked to see tears in his staid partner's eyes. Hutch's voice dropped to a whisper. "The one thing I knew was that if you died, so would I. I wouldn't have given a damn about anything if you weren't there to share it with me. I love you so damn much, Starsk. You have no idea how much."

No mere words could erase the pain and lingering sadness from Hutch's eyes. Starsky knew that, knew it deep in his soul. So he did the one thing that could. The one thing he'd been waiting far too long to do.

Taking his partner's face between his hands, Starsky drew that beloved face closer and kissed Hutch. Lips touching lips, his heart seemed to stop then jumpstart and bang in his chest. Hutch wrapped his arms around him and gave himself over to Starsky's mouth.

The combination of Hutch's lips parting under his, the tongue that searched out his and the warmth of the body against him was almost too much. Starsky's ears rang, his mind turned off, and if he hadn't already known he was in love, this would have left no doubt. This kiss was like no other he'd ever experienced. Soft, gentle, strong. So much the essence of his partner that he wanted nothing more than to stand like this for the rest of his life. Drinking it in. Drinking Hutch in.

Then it got even more intense. Hutch pressed against him. Leaving no doubt that this kiss was every bit as arousing for his partner as it was for Starsky. For one crazed moment, Starsky wanted to pull the two of them to the floor and kiss Hutch all over. Rip their clothes off and let nature take its course. But cold sanity returned and he stepped back from Hutch. Taking a step away from heaven to return to a world that was slightly less solid than even ten minutes before.

Gasping, they stared at each other. Starsky felt a grin pull at his lips - still warm from his partner's - at the stunned look on Hutch's face. He gave into it; into the joy of what he was feeling. Starsky knew he must look like an idiot, a grin splitting his face, but he truly didn't care.

"Hey, partner. You going to stand there with your mouth hanging open all day, or you goin' say something?"

"Wow." Hutch shook his head. Starsky wasn't sure if the head shake was to clear Hutch's mind or in wonder, but the blond hair floating around that long neck mesmerized him.

"Is that all you can say after that? 'Wow'? Boy, I thought it was worth at least a 'Zowie'." Starsky lightly touched Hutch's shoulder. Savoring all the warm strength hiding under a less-than-clean and rumpled shirt. "Get changed, Hutch. I'm going to go and finish that shower I started. Alone." Just in case Hutch had other ideas. "Then we'll go see what your mom wants us to do." The urge to gather this person into his arms and never let go was so strong that it was a physical hurt to drop his hand and move away.

"Starsky." Hutch's voice sounded strange. Starsky looked over his shoulder at him.

"Yeah?"

"I won't let them railroad you. If worse comes to worse...well...I'll think of something. But there's no way in hell you're going to spend even one second in jail. Believe me." For a minute, Hutch looked different. In the light streaming in from the window, he looked ethereal, like some kind of terrible angel. And for that minute, Starsky felt fear. Then the sun shifted, or Hutch did, and the illusion disappeared.

"Don't worry, Hutch. It'll all straighten out." Starsky almost fell over the nightstand when he turned back towards the bathroom door. He'd never seen Hutch look like that, ready to kill. Not for him. Dobey and Huggy had told him about how Hutch had been when Starsky died. No wonder both of them had been so afraid for Hutch. And of him.

Closing the door between them, Starsky leaned against it and tried to calm his breathing. The very thought of what would have happened to his partner if he hadn't come back from wherever it was he went when he died frightened Starsky. <Partner, I promise you. I'll do everything that I can never to disappoint you. To make all of the pain you went through for me worth it.>

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