Chapter 2

 

“Starsk?” Hutch called softly, as he opened the front door.  Receiving no reply, Hutch walked in, carrying a bag of groceries.  Spying his partner asleep on the couch, Hutch carefully shut the front door and walked quietly into the kitchen, setting the bag on the counter.

 

He walked back over to the couch and covered his partner with the afghan hanging over the back.  Hutch didn’t want to disturb him, happy to see the tired, worn expression replaced with a peaceful one.  Deciding to let Starsky sleep as long as needed, he went into the kitchen to start supper, humming softly as he worked.

 

Starsky woke to the sound of silverware clanging.  Sitting up, he spotted Hutch setting the table and quickly tried to stand.  But he’d moved too quickly and found he had to grab the back of the couch for support.  He stood still, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass.

 

“Whatcha’ doin’, Hutch?  It’s my job to set the table when you’re cookin’.”

 

“That’s okay, buddy.  You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

 

“But—”

 

“No buts…dinner’s about ready.  I stopped at Huggy’s before coming home, and he sent over some beef stew.  Smells great, doesn’t it?”  Hutch looked over at his partner before continuing, “I also picked up some salad fixin’s and some of the Italian bread you like.”

 

Starsky rubbed his hand through his hair, still trying to wake up, but he had to admit the food did smell good.

 

“You okay?” Hutch asked, beginning to get concerned.

 

Starsky nodded.  “Just wakin’ up still, I guess.”

 

“Well, go wash up,” Hutch urged.  “Food’s ready.”

 

Starsky walked into the bathroom and, upon returning a few minutes later, sat down at the dinette table.

 

“Here you go.”  Hutch put the pot of stew on the table in front of him and handed Starsky the ladle.  “Did you do anything today?”

 

Starsky, chewing on a piece of bread, glanced at Hutch and then quickly averted his eyes.  “No.”  He wasn’t sure why, but he knew he couldn’t tell Hutch about the accident today.  It had happened because he was tired, and he knew his partner well enough to know Hutch would only worry about him.  He didn’t need to give Hutch another reason for mothering him.  He couldn’t tell Hutch he was afraid.  Afraid that one day he might be too tired to cover his partner’s back.  Sickened by the thought, Starsky shoved the bowl away.

 

Concerned, Hutch watched as Starsky quit eating.  “You’ve got to eat more than that, Starsk.  Huggy worked some magic here.  He’ll be really upset when he finds out you didn’t eat.”  He studied Starsky’s pale face.  He was tired of trying to force food down his partner, but he knew he had to do it.  Most of the time, Starsky acted too tired to care, and if he didn’t eat more, he’d never regain his strength At this rate, he’d never be strong enough to come back to work full-time, anytime soon.  And Hutch wanted—needed—his partner back.

 

Reading the concern on Hutch’s face, Starsky pulled the bowl back and put a small spoonful into his mouth, a slight smile on his face.  One that didn’t quite reach all the way to his eyes.  One that didn’t fool Hutch.

 

The rest of the evening passed quietly, as Starsky watched television while Hutch read.  Hutch knew something was bothering his partner, but he hadn’t figured out what—yet.  Hutch, glad to see that his partner had perked up a little, found himself smiling behind his book, as Starsky enjoyed a rerun of Abbott and Costello’s “Who’s On First” routine.  Hutch couldn’t help but laugh as Starsky recited the entire routine with the actors.

 

š  ›

 

The next morning brought the usual routine, and Hutch was pleased to see that his friend was more animated.  He hoped that whatever was bothering his partner last night was now forgotten.

 

Hutch was sorting through some files on his desk, and Starsky was grabbing his umpteenth cup of coffee, when Captain Dobey opened his office door and ordered, “Starsky, Hutchinson…get in here now.”

 

The two officers followed Dobey into his office, Starsky stirring the sugar into his coffee.

 

“What’s up, Cap’n?” asked Hutch, as he and Starsky settled in their chairs.

 

“There was a murder last night at the Amigo Bar.  The bar was robbed and its owner found in the back alley, shot to death.  Shot three times in the back.”

 

“Any witnesses?”  Starsky inquired.

 

“Nope.  He was found this morning by the garbage men emptying the trash bins.”

 

“What do you want from us, Cap’n?”

 

“Well, everyone’s caseload is on overload and I thought I’d have you two investigate…”

 

Starsky sat up straight in his chair. Dobey’s giving us something that’s not just busy work, he thought.

 

Dobey held up his hand.  “Starsky, before you get too excited, you’re still on half days and under doctor’s care.”

 

“I know, Cap’n, but…”

 

Hutch, shifting in his chair, interjected, “Don’t worry, Captain, we can handle it.  Starsky can make phone calls.”  Hutch could feel Starsky glaring at him as he continued. “We’ll just work from the office in the morning, and I’ll check out the leads in the afternoon.”

 

That’s what you think, Starsky thought.  Here was his chance to prove he could still be a detective, could still do the only job he ever wanted to do, and Hutch was taking away his opportunity.

 

“Okay.”  Dobey handed Hutch the case file.  “You need to check in with Barnes and Johnson in Robbery.  There’ve been three different robberies in that neighborhood over the last two weeks, but this is the first involving murder.  It’s their case, so they’ll call the shots and you two assist.”

 

“Johnson and Barnes work too slow.  It should be our case.  Why can’t we call the shots?” Starsky demanded.

 

Dobey, intentionally avoiding Starsky’s eyes, replied gruffly, “They’re good cops.  You’ll work fine together.”

 

It’s  ’cause of me, thought Starsky.  He doesn’t think I’m ready.  Starsky glared at his partner to see if he also felt that way, but Hutch continued to flip through the file.

 

Closing it with a snap, Hutch passed it over to Starsky, who continued to try and make eye contact with his partner.  Hutch, purposely avoiding Starsky’s eyes, stood up to leave.  “We’ll get right on it, Cap’n.  Are you coming, Starsk?”