Cheryl T

   The ringing phone would not let up. The caller was persistent and showed no signs of giving up. Not able to stand it anymore, a hand reached out, blindly searching for the phone that sat on the nightstand. Finding the phone, he grabbed it and clumsily brought it to his ear. Only half awake and very groggy, he mumbled into the phone. "Hello." Glancing through blurry eyes at the clock next to the phone, Starsky noticed that it was only 3 am.

   "Detective Starsky, sorry to be calling at such an ungodly hour, but it really can't be helped. I just wanted to ask you if you know where your partner is?" Still a bit groggy, Starsky wasn't sure he had understood the question. "What did you say?"

   "I said, do you know where your partner is?" The caller's voice sounded a bit irritated now. "You know, your partner, Detective Hutchinson. Do you know where he is?" The last thing Starsky heard before the caller hung up the phone was an evil little laugh. Then nothing but the dead silence of his dark room.

   Starsky was suddenly very much awake. Cold fear settling in the pit of his stomach. Where was Hutch? A date...Hutch had had a date tonight. Starsky reached for the lamp on the nightstand, blinking at the sudden glare. Picking up the phone once again, he quickly dialed Hutch's number. The phone rang. Once, twice. Starsky felt himself holding his breath, waiting desperately for Hutch to pick up the phone. Three, four, five, six, no answer. Starsky let the phone ring several more times and then slammed it down in frustration. Panic was beginning to set in. As much as he wanted to believe Hutch was still out on a date, his gut feeling was that Hutch was in big trouble. Something was terribly wrong.

   Not wasting any time, Starsky was dressed and racing toward Hutch's apartment within minutes. He skidded to a halt in front of Venice Place. Starsky took the steps to Hutch's apartment two and three at a time, hoping to find Hutch tucked safely into his bed sound asleep or safely in his bed with his date and not so sound asleep. Starsky found himself almost smiling thinking of the look Hutch would have on his face when he found Starsky standing over his bed. Reaching above the door, he found the key in its usual place. Unlocking the door, he slowly turned the knob and eased the door open. Taking his gun out of his holster, he carefully made his way into the dark, silent apartment

   "Hutch...Hutch are you here?" Starsky turned on a light and looked around; everything seemed to be in place. Nearing Hutch's bedroom, he paused slightly, took a breath and walked in, turning on the light. The bedroom was neat, the clothes Hutch had worn to work that day lay on the end of the bed. There was nothing to indicate that anything was wrong. Wrong? The only thing wrong was that he hadn't a clue where Hutch was. Sliding his gun back into his holster, he sank down onto the bed. Feeling very lost and alone, Starsky tried desperately to put together the pieces of events that had occurred since leaving Hutch yesterday. Sadly, he realized there wasn't much to piece together. He had dropped Hutch off at his place about 5:30. He knew Hutch had a date. All Starsky knew about the date was the lady's first name. It was Rita. Rita was someone new; Hutch had just met her. Where? Think...had Hutch mentioned where he had met her? Starsky drew a blank. All he knew was that Hutch had a date with someone named Rita, and at around 3:00 am a mysterious caller asked if he knew where Hutch was. So basically what he had was NOTHING! He didn't even know for sure if Hutch had kept his date.

   Hutch was gone, with no clues to what had happened. Starsky reached over and picked up the shirt Hutch had apparently tossed onto the end of the bed before showering. Starsky stood up, still holding the shirt in his hand. Hutch had stood in this room, took off his shirt, and then most likely headed into the bathroom for a shower. Starsky found himself following what he thought would have been Hutch's steps. Entering the bathroom, Starsky found wet towels hung over the shower; Hutch's toothbrush and razor lay next to the sink. Starsky swallowed hard; a lump was forming in his throat. Oh, God, Hutch, where are you? What's happened to you? With a last look around the bathroom, Starsky moved into the kitchen area. A half-full can of beer sat on the table. True to form, Hutch had obviously had his usual after work beer. Nothing was out of place. It was apparent that Hutch had left his apartment of his own free will. But where had he been going and, better yet, where had he ended up?

   The dark silence of the apartment was interrupted by the sudden loud ringing of the telephone. Startled, Starsky stared at the phone while it rang a second time. Pulling himself together, he picked up the phone. Before he could even say hello, the person on the other end of the phone line began speaking. "Detective Starsky?" Starsky instantly recognized the voice as his mysterious caller from earlier that morning.

   "Who are you? What kind of game are you playing?"

   "I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am that your partner's date didn't turn out so well."

   "What do you know about my partner's date?...answer me." But once again the line had gone dead. Starsky was now not only scared, but he was angry. Who the hell was this guy? What did he know about Hutch's date? The fear and anger knotted inside him. His partner was in some serious trouble and he had no clue where to start looking for him. "Some detective you are, can't even keep track of your own partner," Starsky muttered to himself.

   It was time to let Dobey in on what was going on. Glancing at his watch as he dialed the phone, Starsky knew that Dobey was not going to be very happy to have his sleep disturbed at this hour. It was now just after four in the morning. Over an hour had passed since he had learned Hutch was missing.

   Once the phone call to Dobey was completed, things started moving. A half hour later, an anxious Dobey met Starsky at the station. An APB was put out on Hutch and every available detective was busy pulling old case files, looking for someone with both motive and opportunity. As things stood right now, they didn't have a clue as to where they should start looking for Hutch. He had simply vanished.

   If only he had some information on Rita. A last name, a phone number, address, even a place of employment. But Hutch's date seemed to be as mysterious as Starsky's early morning caller. Why didn't I give Hutch the usual third degree about his date? Starsky stared glumly into a cup of cold coffee. He had never felt so helpless in his life. My partner, my best friend in the whole world, needs me and here I sit.

   Five hours and stacks of files later, they didn't have much more to go on than when they had started. Two detectives had checked on the whereabouts of several possible suspects. Suspects? Starsky almost laughed out loud. The only thing that made them suspects was the fact that Hutch had busted them and they were still alive and out of jail. What worried him most was if this was someone out for revenge, Hutch could very well already be dead. NO! Not Hutch. I can't let myself even think it. If Hutch was dead, why would this person be playing games with me? No, this wacko didn't want Hutch dead…at least not yet.

   Grabbing another stack of files, Starsky forced himself back to the job at hand. The more he thought about it, the more he thought it unlikely that the answer was going to be found in any old file. Something told him they were looking in all the wrong places.

   Myers and Burns, the two detectives who had checked some of the names on the list, arrived back at the station. Their defeated faces said it all. They had come up with nothing. Starsky sat, head in hands. He had the feeling that if he were alone he would be sitting here sobbing. He felt so frustrated.

   The ringing of the phone on his desk brought him back to reality. Starsky reached for the phone, "Starsky." Starsky's jaw clenched, as he recognized the voice on the other end of the phone line.

   "Good morning, Detective Starsky. Well, no, I guess it isn't a very good morning for you. I would imagine what with your partner missing and you without a clue how to locate him, that it's anything but a good morning." The caller chuckled a bit. Starsky sighed heavily, his voice filled with anguish.

   "Look, just tell me what you want. No more playing games. Where's Hutch?" The caller seemed to take some kind of sick delight in hearing the anguish and terror in Starsky's voice.

   "Oh, but I like playing games. But I have to admit that you and your partner have not been much fun. Your blond friend doesn't seem to want to play much either. But maybe that's just because he's not feeling real well right now." Starsky shuddered at the caller's words, knowing that this fiend had somehow hurt Hutch.

   Starsky's tone became hard and cold as he replied, "I'm warning you, this is not a game. You hurt Hutch and I'll kill you."

   Starsky heard more laughter, then the words, "Too late," and then the click as the caller hung up. The words 'too late' kept repeating themselves over and over in Starsky's head. Too late...he had hurt Hutch... Captain Dobey had silently come to stand behind Starsky just as the caller had hung up. Starsky turned toward Dobey, his expression one of mute wretchedness. He stared at Dobey without speaking for several seconds, then stunned and sickened, he repeated what the caller had said to him. The captain's face clearly showed his pain.

   Starsky, trying to control his emotions, said, "Hutch is in real trouble, Captain. We've got to find him fast. This lunatic has already hurt Hutch."

   Dobey reached out and patted Starsky's shoulder. "We'll find him. I just got a call, some uniforms found Hutch's car." Starsky was on his feet in an instant. Finally, a break, maybe a lead.

   His voice shook a bit as he asked, "Where?" Dobey said nothing. Not wanting to get Starsky's hopes up too much, he silently handed him a slip of paper. The paper firmly in his hand, Starsky headed toward the door.

********

   Once seated in the Torino, he studied the paper Dobey had handed him. The location where Hutch's car had been found was way outside the city, some rarely-used, secluded road in the middle of nowhere. What the hell was Hutch doing there? Somehow Starsky doubted that Hutch had chosen this route of his own free will.

   Starsky, wasting no time, arrived at the scene in record time. The uniformed officers had been joined by a team from the lab. The lab guys were going over Hutch's car carefully. Starsky, his face grim, headed toward Hutch's car. His eyes took in every aspect of the scene before him. Hutch's battered car was now even more battered. He really had to talk Hutch into getting a better car. The front end rested tightly up against a large tree. It appeared that Hutch had been forced off the road in a rather violent manner. Starsky's steps slowed a bit the closer he got to Hutch's demolished car. He hesitated, torn by conflicting emotions. He was almost afraid to look into the car, fearful of what he might find.

   "Hey, Starsky." Starsky, now standing next to the driver's side door, looked up into the concerned face of Officer Jerry Anderson. Jerry had just finished looking over the inside of the car. Starsky, feeling a bit like a volcano on the verge of erupting, nodded somewhat briskly at the older officer.

   Starsky, his voice showing signs of strain, asked, "What do we have so far?" The look on the face of the officer sent a chill down Starsky's spine. Without saying a word, he moved past the officer and looked into the driver's side of the car. Starsky felt the nauseating sinking of despair. Blood...Hutch's blood? Starsky's already low spirits sank even lower. Starsky closed his eyes tightly against the sight, letting his body slump against the car.

   Officer Anderson patted Starsky's shoulder. "The lab will let you know as soon as possible if it matches Hutch's blood type. We'll find him, Starsky. Don't give up."

   His expression grim, Starsky replied, "That's one thing you don't have to worry about. I'll never give up. I'll find Hutch, and I'll find the bastard responsible for this."

   Pulling himself together, Starsky once again looked inside the car. This time he looked it over carefully. There was blood on the back of the driver's seat and the door. Starsky figured it had gotten on the door when Hutch had been taken from the car. He also figured Hutch had most likely suffered a blow to the head. He fought hard to fight back the tears he felt welling up in his eyes. He didn't have time for tears now; he had to find his partner.

   Several hours later, they had come up with nothing new. Nothing, except the blood type found in the car matched Hutch's. No surprise there. Starsky kept hoping the phone would ring. The next time the bastard called, Starsky planned on demanding to speak to Hutch. He had to know if Hutch was still alive. Thinking about it, though, Starsky decided that if Hutch were dead, he would know it. They were too close for him not to know if Hutch had taken his last breath Hutch was still alive!

   "Starsky!" Dobey bellowed in that famous Dobey roar.

   Starsky jumped up and headed for Dobey's office. As Starsky entered the office, Dobey could see the look of eager hopefulness on his face. "Sorry, Starsky, I haven't heard anything. I just wanted to tell you...no make that order you, to go home and get some sleep."

   Before Starsky could open his mouth to display his usual arguing, Dobey stopped him short. "That's an order! Go get some food in your stomach and get some sleep. If you want to help Hutch, you have to take care of yourself. Now go home."

   Realizing he was exhausted and hungry, Starsky agreed to go home for a bit. But only for a bit.

********

   Once home, Starsky couldn't decide if he wanted sleep or food first. Food finally won out, and Starsky, sandwich and soda in hand, collapsed onto his couch. As he ate, he couldn't help thinking about Hutch and wondering if he had had anything to eat. Something told him Hutch had not been fed. He was bleeding and probably scared and feeling pretty alone. He needs me! I can't take the time to sleep, I have to find Hutch. His depressing thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Setting his soda down on the table, he got up and found himself practically staggering to the door. Dobey was right, he needed sleep. Opening the door, he found no one there. He looked around in surprise. He knew he was tired, but he was darn sure he had heard someone knock on the door. He wasn't imagining things! As he started to close the door, his eyes were drawn to an envelope lying just outside his door. He bent down and picked it up. Turning it over, he found no writing on the envelope. Closing the door, he stood staring at the envelope in his hand. Quickly tearing it open, he found a small note inside, folded in half, and a photo. The color drained out of Starsky's face and he felt his knees begin to give out on him. He stumbled to the couch, the photo still in his trembling hand. Oh, God...Hutch. The photo showed a badly battered and abused Hutch. Hutch lay on the floor, arms bound tightly behind him. He was gagged and blindfolded. The blindfold was darkened with Hutch's blood. The parts of his face that showed between the blindfold and gag were swollen and indicated signs of repeated beatings. Hutch's fine blond hair was matted with blood. Looking at the photo, Starsky couldn't even be sure if Hutch was alive.

   Starsky lay the photo beside him on the couch. His eyes continually drawn to the gruesome sight, he opened the note that had accompanied the photo. Printed in bold red letters, the note read: "The game we are playing is called Hutchinson is missing. The object of the game is for you to find the missing Hutchinson before he dies. You have seven days and no more! Oh, and each day that passes without you finding your friend, well, let's just say I get to practice my own special skills on him. I'm quite talented at...well, just use your imagination. I just hope your handsome friend lasts the whole seven days. Revenge is so sweet! Happy hunting."

   Starsky was numb with increasing rage and shock. It terrified him to think about what kind of lunatic had his hands on Hutch. It was apparent from both the photo and the note that this guy was capable of doing almost anything to Hutch...apparent also that he would enjoy doing it.

   "I'll find you, Hutch. I promise I'll find you." With a tremble in his voice, Starsky spoke the words out loud.

   Starsky got to his feet; there would be no sleeping until Hutch was found. Time had become something he didn't have enough of, and certainly none to waste sleeping. And he didn't care what Dobey said! He had to get back to Parker Center and get to work. The note had mentioned revenge. That didn't narrow the list of suspects down much, but at least now they did know for sure it was revenge. Just as Starsky reached for the doorknob, the ringing of the phone brought him to a halt. Staring at the phone briefly, almost afraid to answer it, he took the few steps across the room to the phone.

   Grabbing the phone, he growled, "Starsky."

   "It's me," the voice answered. Starsky relaxed just a bit recognizing Dobey's voice. "Starsky, you better get back here." Dobey's voice was grim.

   "Captain what's going on?" Starsky asked, not sure if he was ready to hear what Dobey had to say.

   "I think we may have found the body of Hutch's date."

   Starsky was silent for a few seconds, then finally finding his voice again, "I got something, too. The bastard left me a note and a photo of Hutch."

   Dobey could hear the strain and the barely controlled rage in Starsky's voice. "Take it easy, Starsky...just get in here and let's see what we can come up with."

   "I'm on my way."

********

   Half an hour later, Starsky sat in front of Dobey's desk. Dobey had filled Starsky in on the discovery of the body of a blonde female found in a wooded area, several miles from where Hutch's car had been found. There was no way to be one hundred percent sure that the body belonged to Hutch's date, but the driver's license had been issued to a Rita Sanders. Add that to the fact that the body had been found just a few miles from Hutch's car, and it seemed to be a reasonable explanation. They were waiting to hear the cause of death, but it was pretty obvious she had been strangled. It seemed logical then that whoever had murdered Rita Sanders, most likely was the individual holding Hutch. But the big questions remained: WHO? and WHY?

   "Well, I'm gonna get over to this Rita's place and see if I can find anything. Then I think I'll go check in with Huggy. Somebody has to know something." Starsky stood to leave, the strain showing on every inch of his body. He felt drained, hollow, and totally lifeless.

   "Keep me posted. And, Starsky, don't give up hope, we're going to find him."

   Dobey wished there was more he could do to reassure the young detective, but he knew the only thing that would accomplish this was the news that Hutch had been found...alive.

********

   Hutch felt the blood running down his face. He seemed to live in constant fear now--fear of the pain and fear of dying alone. He had no idea how long this constant pain and confinement had been going on. Time had lost all meaning. All hope was slipping away from him. Hutch found himself sobbing uncontrollably. "Oh, God. Starsky, I need you. I need you to hold me. I'm so scared, Starsk...I'm not gonna make it this time. I don't want to die alone." Hutch found himself unable to control his pleading. "Starsky, please don't let me die alone. Please!"

   Hutch's kidnapper was growing tired of listening to him calling for his partner. The thought crossed his mind that he should have left him gagged. But he did so enjoy hearing him beg while he was torturing him. And he did get a certain mean-spirited delight in hearing him call so frantically for his partner. But the real enjoyment would be when he told him that his partner was to blame for all of this. Yes, what will Detective Hutchinson think of his precious partner when he finds out that he's the cause of him dying such a painful death?

   No longer able to stand the racket the screaming cop was making and afraid that someone might hear him, Hutch's tormentor headed angrily toward the small, dark and damp room where his prisoner was kept.

   Hutch lay on the dirty floor, twitching and coughing, still calling frantically for Starsky. Having very little dignity left, he pleaded with the blurry figure that stood before him. "Help me...please help me." Hutch's breathing was becoming ragged. "I don't want to die. I need to get to a hospital, please. My head...it's really bad, please."

   "No hospital for you, blondie. A hospital would just ruin the plans I have for you. You'll just die here like I planned."

   Not wanting to ruin his fun by killing off his prisoner too soon, he needed another way to keep Hutch quiet without gagging him again. Thinking for a second, he turned and left the room.

   Hutch's eyes widened as his captor returned with a bottle and a cloth in his hand.

   Setting the bottle down, he grabbed Hutch by the front of his shirt, forcing him onto to his back. Placing his knee heavily on Hutch's chest, he reached once again for the bottle. Hutch gasped at the added pressure on his already painful chest. He tried to struggle out of reach of the cloth that was advancing toward his face, but it was no use. The rag, saturated with ether, closed over his mouth and nose. Within seconds, Hutch's struggles had ceased and his kidnapper left. Hutch was once again alone.

********

   Starsky pulled up in front of the address he had hastily written on a slip of paper. He sat there staring at the house, feeling numb. Tears started to well up in his eyes. He took a deep breath and opened the car door.

   Not now, Starsky. You don't have time to fall apart. He silently lectured himself.

   As he made his way up the walk to the house, he couldn't help think of Hutch making the same walk last night. Just last night? Had it really been less than 24 hours since this ordeal had begun?

   What happened, Hutch? What happened after you made this walk? Did you and Rita leave here alone or was there someone else with you? So many questions and no answers.

   His walk through Rita's house told him absolutely nothing. Everything seemed to be in place. No signs of a struggle. Nothing to give him a clue to what had happened to Hutch. Nothing here, but somehow I feel like I'm close to you, Hutch.

   A quick look around the basement of the home provided nothing. The basement appeared to be used just for storage--storage boxes and crates piled all over.

   "Damn it, Hutch, where are you?" Starsky kicked at a box, knocking it over. He didn't bother to pick it up, just made his way back up the stairs.

   Starsky took a last look around the neatly kept home. A dead end! A disappointed Starsky turned and walked out of the house. Just outside the door, he stopped. It was weird, but for some unknown reason he had felt so close to Hutch in that house. It was a very strange feeling. He almost hated to leave. It felt like he was leaving Hutch behind.

   Starsky shook his head, trying to free himself from the unnerving reaction he had to leaving this house. "This is crazy," he muttered to himself.

   "Hey, you looking for the people who live there?"

   Starsky turned to see a middle-aged woman watering flowers in the front yard of the house next to Rita's.

   "Ma'am, you know anything about her?" Starsky asked as he started toward the woman.

   "Not much. The two of them pretty much kept to themselves," she said as Starsky joined her on her lawn.

   "The two of them?"

   "I think they are sister and brother. Well, I guess I just assumed they were sister and brother. They look an awful lot a like."

   Starsky pulled out his badge, "I'm Detective David Starsky, and I'd appreciate any information you can give me concerning the occupants of this house."

   "Well, Detective, I really don't know much about them. They've lived there maybe two or three months. I don't think they talked to any of the neighbors. Guess you could say they kept to themselves."

   "Anyone ever come to visit them?" Starsky asked. He was still mulling over the fact that this Rita might have a brother that lived with her. Kind of funny that he hadn't surfaced yet. There had been no answer when one of the uniformed officers that had discovered the body had called to notify the next of kin. Strange.

   "No, I can't say as I really recall seeing anyone coming to visit them," the woman replied with a thoughtful look on her face. "Well, at least not until last night."

   "Last night? What happened last night?"

   "Yeah, I think it was a little after seven. I noticed this good-looking blond guy going up their walk. He had parked in front of the house. Right where you're parked right now."

   Starsky was beginning to feel just a bit hopeful. "Did you see him leave?"

   "Yes, he walked down to the car with the young woman. Oh, and her brother was behind them."

   Starsky was beginning to have a bad feeling about this so-called brother.

   "Do you know what time it was that they all left?" he asked.

   "Not exactly, but I don't think the blond was in there very long. Maybe ten minutes or so. Does any of this help you? Did something happen to them?"

   "Yes, ma'am something has happened to them. The young woman was murdered and the blond...he's my partner, he's missing." Starsky's voice had a slight tremble to it.

   The woman could see that the young detective was quite shaken. "I'm so sorry. If there is anything else I can do, please let me know."

   Starsky nodded, "Thanks, I'll do that." He handed her his card, "Call me if you think of anything else."

   "Oh, one more thing," Starsky asked as he turned back around. "Did you see the brother actually get into the car with them?"

   "Yes…yes, he did get in the car, but not until they were both seated in the front seat." The woman seemed thrilled that she was able to provide the dark-haired detective with more information.

   "I remember thinking that she must have a date, and her brother had walked them out to the car. He stood there while they got in the car...I think he was holding something in his hands. I couldn't see what. And then, I have to admit I was surprised when he pushed his sister's seat forward and slid in the back seat.

   Starsky suddenly felt a renewed sense of strength. "Thanks, you've really been a big help. And don't forget, please call me if you remember anything else."

   The woman nodded and watched as the worried detective made his way back to his car.

   Seated in his car, Starsky found his eyes drawn to once again to the house. I know something happened to you in there, Hutch. I don't know what, but something did, I can feel it. I hope you know that I'm looking for you. I'll find you, buddy, I promise. You just got to hang on. Don't you dare give up!

   On the way back to Parker Center, Starsky unsuccessfully tried to shake the feeling he had had while in that house. It was like he had felt Hutch's presence.

********

   James Sanders--or Jimmy as he had always been called--sat watching his prisoner. He took great satisfaction in the damage he had inflicted so far. Cops...all cops deserved this kind of treatment. This one had actually thought that he was going to take his sister away from him. He hadn't wanted to kill his sister. It had just sort of happened. She had made him so angry trying to defend this worthless cop. He had resolved a long time ago that he would kill as many cops and their slimy partners as he could get his hands on. They're gonna suffer long and hard, too! Tears of pain and rage filled Jimmy's eyes, as he couldn't help remember the way he had had to suffer.

   The effect of the ether beginning to wear off, Hutch groaned and tried to roll over on his side. He didn't get far before a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. Hutch stilled his movements, hoping the feeling of nausea would subside. He quickly realized this was not going to happen, as warm fluid erupted and splattered onto his now filthy shirt and the dirty floor he lay on. Hutch lay in his own vomit and urine, his only thought...this is the way I am going to die. I don't want Starsky to find me like this.

   Jimmy laughed as he watched the cop, hands still tied behind him, struggle to move away from the mess he lay in.

********

   "Where's your partner? Where's that partner of yours? Big help he is."

   He delighted in tormenting his prisoner this way. Moving toward Hutch, he angrily kicked him, the kick landing solidly in Hutch's stomach.

   An anguished groan from Hutch only produced another firm kick. Once again, Hutch found himself vomiting, only this time the vomit included blood. Hutch was so weak he didn't even care where he lay anymore.

   "That partner of yours...he knows what I'm doing to you, he knows! And he's doing nothing to help you. DO YOU SEE HIM HERE TRYING TO HELP YOU?" Jimmy screamed the words at Hutch.

   "No, he's not here, and you're all on your own. See how partners just stand by and do nothing? They do nothing to help...then they decide to abuse you, too." Jimmy stood looking down at Hutch; Jimmy trembled from anger and he was becoming confused. "But, don't worry, I'll kill him. I'm going to kill him for doing nothing. He let him abuse me and I'll kill him. I'll kill both of them."

   Even though he was suffering from extreme weakness and fatigue and at times was confused about what was happening, Hutch had still been able to determine that Jimmy was one very disturbed person. My God...he has a grudge against cops. Someone abused him...something about partners. Unable to put it all together, Hutch relinquished his fragile hold on consciousness and drifted into peaceful oblivion.

********

   Once back at Parker Center, Starsky quickly got the ball rolling on a complete background check on Rita Sanders. He wanted to know everything about her and her family. Once that was done, he headed in to see Dobey.

   "Any luck?" Dobey asked, as Starsky sank gratefully into a chair.

   "I think we might have something. The neighbor noticed a man who she believes to be Rita's brother get into the back seat of Hutch's car when they left."

   "Speaking of the neighbor, she called looking for you. She wanted you to know that the brother had just recently started living there. Said she was sorry that she had forgotten to mention it earlier." Dobey studied the exhausted and haggard appearance of the young detective seated in front of him. It was quite obvious that he was in need of some sleep.

   "Starsky, I know you don't want to hear this, but I really think you'd better take a few hours, get something to eat and a couple hours of sleep." Dobey braced himself for the expected argument. But there was only silence. "Starsky?"

   "Yeah, I hear ya. And I know you're right, but I just..." More silence, then a deep sigh, "I just feel so damn helpless. Hutch is in trouble and I can't seem to do anything about it. He's hurting and he's wondering what's taking me so long to find him. I can't let him down. I just can't." Starsky looked Dobey square in the eye. "Do you think Hutch would be taking time to eat and sleep if this creep had me?"

   Now it was Dobey's turn to let out a long sigh. "No...no, he probably wouldn't." Just then the phone on Dobey's desk rang. He quickly grabbed it and barked, "Dobey. "Oh, sorry, Edith. I didn't know it was you." Dobey's voice quickly calmed down.

   Starsky got up and wandered out into the squadroom, hoping maybe by now the information he had requested on Rita would be there. Everyone in the squadroom was pretty quiet; the atmosphere in the last day had taken on a somber tone, none of the usual joking and kidding around.

   Starsky poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at his desk. He hated looking across at where his blond partner would normally be sitting. God, he missed Hutch. He glanced up at the clock. Time was going to be running out very shortly. This creep had given him seven days, and soon they were going to be into day two. Day two, and the only thing they knew for sure, at least according to a neighbor, was that a man had gotten into Hutch's back seat and left with him and Rita.

   Starsky felt a hand gently pat his shoulder. "I'll make a deal with you. You go home for a bit and get some rest, and I'll have the background information on Rita delivered to you. You know, once we get this information on Rita, things should start to move and you're going to have to be in shape for it."

   Realizing he just didn't have the energy to argue, Starsky nodded his head, "Okay. Just don't forget that you promised to send me Rita's background."

   "You've got my word on it. Now get going." Dobey did his best to give Starsky a half-hearted smile.

   Once again, Starsky found himself leaving Parker Center without Hutch. He knew that never in a million years would he get used to not having Hutch around. Never!

********

   Jimmy paced the small room where he was holding Hutch. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the images that kept forcing their way in. His father's face would flash into his mind, then the face of his partner. The memories of the abuse he had suffered at their hands filled him with unspeakable rage. Every time he looked at Hutch, all he could see was his father and how he was going to make him suffer. In Jimmy's mind, Hutch and his father had now become one and the same. His rage had taken over so completely, at times he had no memory of the fact that he had murdered his father and his partner right on this very spot just two years earlier.

   Jimmy stopped his pacing and stood staring down at the badly injured cop. Hutch moaned softly, but remained unconscious. "Your partner sure is taking his time finding you. We're gonna have to do something about that."

   Reaching down he grabbed hold of Hutch and dragged him across the floor to the other side of the little room that had become Hutch's prison. Oblivious to the odors of vomit and other bodily fluids of which Hutch no longer had control, he lifted the still unconscious cop and dumped him onto an old iron bed. The movement caused Hutch to scream out in pain. But Jimmy just laughed and roughly tied first Hutch's wrists, then his ankles, to the old bed. Hutch was so out of it, he couldn't find the energy to fight what was happening to him.

   Jimmy moved to where a shelving unit stood against the wall. He laughed excitedly as he picked up a small tape recorder that had been placed there. He checked to make sure there was still tape left, then replaced it on the shelf.

   "Almost ready to send your partner a personal message from you. But I don't think we have enough here yet to convince him just how serious I am. But this, this should do the trick." Jimmy could hardly control his excitement at what he had planned next for the badly injured cop.

   Jimmy retrieved a box from next to the door, where he had left it earlier. With much excitement and anticipation, he placed the box on a stool next to the bed. Standing, looking down at Hutch, it was almost like seeing himself lying there waiting for the next bit of abuse. He reached down and slowly ran his hands over Hutch's body.

   Hutch stirred and opened his eyes. Hands were fondling him in places that made him feel uncomfortable. "How do you like it, cop?" Hutch struggled weakly to get away from the feel of those hands.

   "Why...why are you doing this? I don't understand." Hutch's voice was weak and raspy. "Please stop this before it's too late. Call my partner. Please."

   "Don't pretend you don't understand any of this. This is what you deserve and you know it."

   "If you're going to kill me, just do it," Hutch pleaded.

   "Shut up!" Jimmy glared at Hutch. "I told you we have to convince your partner how serious this is. We have work to do. Just shut up!"

   Jimmy now reached for the box that he had set on the stool. Hutch watched Jimmy's every move with dread. What now? He wanted to plead and beg, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears. There was no hope. This lunatic could do whatever he wanted.

   Hutch knew that sooner or later he was going to die here in this dark and dirty little room. Humiliation flooded over him as he pictured Starsky finding him here, beaten and bleeding and lying in his own filth. Having no dignity left, Hutch began to sob uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry, Starsky."

   Jimmy ignored Hutch's sobbing and continued on with the task at hand. He had unbuttoned Hutch's shirt and pushed the shirt sleeves up and out of the way. With that task finished, he moved his attention to taping the thin wires that were attached to the box to Hutch's bare arms and torso.

   Hutch's sobbing had ceased. He had resigned himself to whatever torture was about to be inflicted on him. But the horror of realizing what those wires were connected to paralyzed him with fear.

   "Please..." was all Hutch could get out before the first jolt of electricity hit him. He screamed out, the pain was excruciating. As Jimmy set the current for a higher voltage, Hutch's whole body arched in pain and his body tried to move away from the source. Hutch's body was drenched in sweat, his breathing becoming more and more ragged as he struggled for each breath.

   Jimmy, so caught up in his enjoyment of Hutch's pain, kept on increasing the voltage higher and higher. Hutch's non-stop screaming echoed in the room until he slipped into the sanctuary of unconsciousness.

   Minutes later, Jimmy finally realized his victim was no longer screaming. A smile of satisfaction spread across his face as he reached for the tape recorder. "I think this will impress your partner."

********

   Even a hot shower and a meal didn't make Starsky feel any better. Standing in the bathroom looking in the mirror, he couldn't help notice how really awful he looked. Awful? He didn't want to think about how awful Hutch must look by now. Starsky's stomach twisted in knots at the thought of Hutch tied up and bleeding. That picture was burned into Starsky's memory and would probably stay there forever. Chances were good that by now Hutch was in even worse condition. And here I stand in front of the mirror thinking about how awful I look. The anger and frustration he was feeling had reached a point where he could no longer control it. Picking up a glass that sat near the sink, he slammed it into the mirror. Glass shattered and flew, a few pieces hitting Starsky, but he barely noticed.

   Starsky had slid down to the floor, arms clenched tightly across his chest. Giving in to the tension that had been building for a day and a half, he sat sobbing. This whole situation was so unfair. What had Hutch done to deserve this? Doubts had begun creeping in. What if we don't find him in time? Starsky knew if they didn't find Hutch in time, he himself would shatter in as many pieces as the mirror he had just broken.

   Starsky sat on the floor for several minutes. Finally, he pulled himself to his feet. He couldn't let the panic he was feeling take over. He couldn't give up, not as long as there was any chance at all left to find Hutch alive.

   Starsky headed to the phone to give Dobey a call and see what was taking so long with the background information that he had requested on Rita Sanders. Before he had a chance to pick up the phone, it rang.

   "Yeah?" Starsky said into the phone.

   "Starsky, you'd better get over to Rita's house fast!"

   "What's happened?" Starsky felt a renewed sense of panic starting to take over.

   "The neighbor lady called for you, said she heard some God-awful screaming coming from Rita's house." Before Dobey could say any more he heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone line.

   "Starsky?"

   "I'm on my way."

   "I'll meet you there," Dobey said as he heard the click of the phone.

********

   In his mad dash to the Torino, Starsky never noticed the figure lurking in the shadows, just down from where the Torino was parked. Neither did he notice the cassette tape lying on the seat next to him. His attention was focused on getting to Rita Sanders' house, where he hoped with all his heart to find his best friend. Most importantly, he hoped to find him alive.

   He practically flew through traffic. Cursing anyone who got in his way. Didn't people pay any attention to flashing lights and sirens anymore? Weaving around a pick-up truck and horns blaring behind him, he managed to cut in front of the truck and make a wild turn on to Rita's street. He came to an abrupt halt in front of the house. He could hear the sirens of his back-up.

   Not waiting for back-up, Starsky headed toward the house at a full run. Drawing his gun, he quickly kicked in the front door. The house was silent. As he started to go from room to room, four uniforms joined him in the house.

   "You two come downstairs with me; you two take the rest of the house," Starsky said as he headed toward the basement stairs. The two officers selected to go downstairs followed Starsky; the other two started on their search of the upstairs. The basement also seemed quiet. The place was just too damn quiet. Starting to feel that the neighbor must have been hearing things--maybe someone's TV-- Starsky angrily kicked at some boxes. Not content to settle for just the boxes, Starsky took his anger out at anything and everything he could. The two officers looked on, but knew better than to interrupt him. Everyone knew how close Starsky and Hutch were. When one of them was in danger, the other could turn into a real madman.

   "Hey, look," one of the officers yelled, as a large carton that Starsky had just angrily shoved, fell to the floor and revealed a door behind it.

   Starsky and the other officers quickly started removing the few remaining items in front of the doorway. Once all the items were out of the way, Starsky and the other officers, guns drawn, slowly entered the little room. As Starsky's eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room, one of the other officers found a light switch. Glancing quickly around the room to see if their suspect was there, their eyes immediately found the iron bed with Hutch securely tied to it. Starsky stared in horror, the color draining from his face. A chilled black silence enveloped the room.

   With no suspect in sight, one officer left to notify the officers upstairs and call an ambulance, knowing he would never forget that sight.

   "Hutch?" Starsky was almost afraid to move any closer, terrified he would find that Hutch was not alive. Forcing himself over to the bed, hands shaking, he reached out for Hutch--half in anticipation, half in dread. Feeling a pulse, he breathed a very small sigh of relief. He was alive. Hutch's breathing was shallow and interrupted, almost making choking sounds, but he was alive.

   "We need an ambulance now!" Starsky yelled.

   The uniformed officer, who had remained downstairs, touched Starsky's shoulder softly.

   "We already took of care it, an ambulance will be here any minute."

   "Get me a towel and wet it with some cold water," Starsky said to the uniform as he began to untie Hutch.

   The sight of his partner lying there tied up, battered and bloodied was almost more than Starsky could take. He quickly had Hutch untied, noticing the bruised wrists and ankles. He could feel his rage mounting.

   "Here you go, Detective." The officer held out the cold, wet towel to Starsky.

   Starsky began gently wiping the blood and vomit off Hutch's face. Hutch felt cold and clammy to Starsky's touch. He knew Hutch was in severe shock. "I'll get him, Hutch. He's gonna pay for this."

   Hutch's eyes were open slightly, but he seemed unaware of what was going on around him. He moaned, gasping for breath. As the choking sounds worsened, Starsky slid his hand under Hutch's head to lift it, hoping he could make breathing a bit easier for his partner. He rubbed Hutch's bruised face and assured him over and over that everything would be all right. Realizing that the hand holding his partner's head was covered in blood, Starsky felt panic start to well up inside of him.

   Starsky eased Hutch's head down slowly. Running his hands over his partner's exhausted and frail body, he checked for other injuries. Finding burn marks on Hutch's body, fury almost choked Starsky. How could one person do this to another?

   "Starsky?"

   Dobey had arrived and stood behind Starsky. His eyes took in the horrific scene before him. Glancing around Hutch's prison, Dobey's eyes fell on the black box and the loose wires on the floor by the bed.

   Starsky turned to look at Dobey. When he did, his eyes followed to see what Dobey's eyes were drawn to.

   "Oh, God, Captain."

   Starsky couldn't believe the hell Hutch had been through. "He's gonna pay for what he did to Hutch. And so help me God, if Hutch doesn't recover from all of this, I'll kill the bastard."

   Starsky's eyes conveyed the fury within him, and no one in that room doubted that he would do just as he had vowed.

   A low moan from Hutch brought Starsky quickly back to what was important right now--his partner.

   "Where's that damn ambulance?" Starsky angrily shouted.

   "Easy, Starsky. It's here now, " Dobey said, as the paramedics came down the stairs.

   "Hutch, help is here now. Everything is going to be okay." Starsky sat on the edge of the old bed, tears in his eyes, gently wiping Hutch's face with the damp cloth. As he wiped Hutch's face, his other hand found Hutch's and squeezed it gently. He wanted Hutch to know he wasn't alone. Starsky felt a slight tremble in Hutch's fingers, a feeble attempt by Hutch to return the pressure. "You know it's me, don't you, buddy?"

   Dobey reached over and took Starsky by the elbow.

   "Come on, Dave, let them help Hutch."

   Starsky reluctantly released his hold on Hutch's hand.

   "They're gonna take good care of you, Hutch. And I'm gonna be right with you, too. Promise, I'm not gonna leave you."

   Once Starsky had stepped back, the paramedics quickly went to work to determine Hutch's overall condition.

   Starsky didn't like the looks the paramedics were exchanging with each other. He stood at the foot of the bed and watched their every move.

PART TWO