Chapter 3 ~ Good Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

Bay City

The sedan pulled up to a large warehouse and stopped.

Why do mobsters always hole up in warehouses? Do they watch too many old gangster movies? Dave asked himself. Why not in a nice hotel? One with room service?

The driver got out and opened Dave’s door. “Get out, kid.”

“What? No red carpet?” Getting out, he glanced around, trying to spot another car behind them. Or anywhere. Nothing. What, me worry?

“Turn around and put your hands on the car.”

“Why – “ He was grabbed and spun around to face the side of the car. “Hey! All you had to do was say please.”

Rough hands moved over his body, patting him down and searching for weapons. He jumped as the hands went up the inside of his thighs. “Hey! At least buy a guy dinner first!”

“Wiseass.” The guy slid his hands down one leg and then the other. He stopped when he hit something strapped to Dave’s right ankle. “Well, well, what’s this?”

“Crap!” John tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. “Did they find the damn wire?”

“They shouldn’t, we taped it down his belly pretty good.” His partner peered through the binoculars at the sedan in front of the old warehouse. “The guy’s down at his feet anyway.”

Crap! It might not have been his smartest move, bringing along the old .38, but he hadn’t wanted to be completely defenseless. “That’s a gun. You’ve seen ‘em in the movies, right?”

“Listen, kid – “ The guy pressed the barrel of the .38 under Dave’s ear. “I could just blow your fucking brains out and tell the boss you tried to get wise with me.”

“We’ve got to get in there!” John dropped the car into drive again.

“What? You expect me to come out here with no protection?” Dave turned his head enough to glare at the guy. “You guys beat the hell out of me once – how’d I know you wouldn’t take my money and beat the hell out me again anyway? Do I look that stupid?”

“Trust.” The guy tapped the gun against the side of Dave’s face. “Nobody trusts nobody no more.”

The others laughed as he stepped back and motioned Dave to go inside.

“John, wait – “ His partner grabbed his arm. “It’s okay, the kid handled it.”

“I’m going to kick his ass when we get back.” John wiped at his face, not surprised to come away with sweat on his fingers. “Where the hell did he get a gun?”

“What are you, kidding me? This is Bay City –“ His partner laughed humorlessly. “You can get a gun anywhere if you’ve got the money.”

“Can I have my gun back?” Dave held his hand out.

“Get inside.” The guy pocketed the gun and gave him a shove. “If you’re a good boy and I don’t have to kill you – I’ll give it back.”

“Now who’s the wiseass?” Shrugging, he went inside the warehouse.

It was dark inside, but there was a dim light coming from the back. “You guys forget to pay the electric bill?”

“Just go straight back.” The guy nudged him again.

“All the way to the back?” Knowing that John was listening, Dave tried to tell him exactly where he was in the warehouse. “I’m not gonna fall over anything, am I?”

“Nah, all the crates and stuff are stacked over against the walls.” The guy said helpfully.

“Ah, okay. Over there under the windows?” He looked to both sides. “On both sides?”

“Yeah, you’ve got a clear path, so stop worrying.”

“You walk around in a dark jungle for a year – you start worrying about things you can’t see.”

“I was in the Pacific during the war.” The guy told him. “I hated the fucking jungle. Nothin’ but bugs and snakes and gooks.”

“Made a New York winter sound like a good time.” Dave agreed. Great, I’m identifying with Joe Goon. “That an office back there?”

“Just another ten feet or so.”

“Good job, kid.” John grinned.

His partner nodded in agreement as he lifted the mic to his lips. “This is Victor Alpha. You guys get that?”

“Got it. This is Victor Baker. We’re taking the north side – we’ll see if we can get in through the windows on that side and use the crates for cover.”

“Victor Charlie here, we’ll take the south side and do the same.”

“Blaine and I will wait until you’re in position and then go right in the front door.” Miller looked at Blaine who nodded in agreement. “Get ready to call in backup as soon as we go in.”

“Boss, this is the kid.”

Dave stopped inside the small office, just in front of the desk that dominated the room. He waited for the man to acknowledge his presence. The time for being a smartass was done – this guy looked old, maybe his father’s age or older – and the old mustache Petes didn’t put up with wisecracks.

The man laid aside his pen and looked Dave over. There was something familiar about the kid, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “How do you know Durniak?”

Dave got the impression that the guy might have checked back east. He gave it less than a second’s thought. Might as well tell the truth, why the hell not? “Joey knew my father. Growing up, Joey was like my uncle.”

Joe Durniak as somebody’s uncle? The man leaned back in his chair. Again there was the nagging feeling that the kid looked familiar. “Who’s your father?”

“Was.” There was no reason not to give his father’s name. He was long dead, and it had been a mob hit. If the old guy knew anything about it, he’d know that. “Michael Starsky.”

The man sat forward so fast his elbows hit the desktop. “You’re Mike Starsky’s boy?”

“Yeah. So?” Confused as to why his father’s name got such a reaction, Dave tried to move the conversation along. The tape holding the wire to his chest was itching like crazy. “You gonna cut me in?”

“You’re in kid.” The man stood up and held his hand out. When Dave took it, he cupped it with his other hand, shaking it enthusiastically. “I shoulda seen the resemblance. It was bugging me, but I just couldn’t pin it down.”

“Uh huh.”

Coming around the desk, the man took another look. The eyes and the smile were eerily familiar now that he knew who the kid was. “Sorry, it’s been a lot of years. Your pop was a hell of a man, kid. A legend. It’s too bad about what happened.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t get the guy’s sudden friendliness, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“What the hell is this guy talking about?” Blaine’s partner asked.

“I have no idea. All I know about Dave’s father is that he was killed by mobsters – he was standing up to them over something.” John shook his head. “This guy’s acting like he was the capo de capo or something.”

“Whatever it is, it’s working. Baker and Charlie are in position.” Miller drew his gun. “You ready to go inside?”

“Careful and quiet.” He cautioned. “Radio silence from here on out until I give the signal.”

The other two units rogered their understanding and the radio went dead. John eased the door open just far enough for himself and Miller to slip inside.

“I want to make a little money, you know?” Dave told the other man. “You know, I feel like I’m being disrespectful, I never did get your name.”

“What’s the matter with you boys?” He glared at the men who’d brought Dave in. “You forget your manners? Sorry, kid, I’m Frank Monteiro.”

“Mr. Monteiro.” Dave held his hand out again, shaking Monteiro’s firmly. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Monteiro?” John stopped and looked wide eyed at his partner. He got an equally astonished look in return. Monteiro wasn’t a mover and shaker in the mob world anymore, but he’d been the right hand man in Parenti’s organization until a few years ago. If they could get him to talk, they might be able to eventually bring down that entire organization.

Dave had heard of Monteiro. He was one of the old mustache Petes who’d been smart enough to step aside for the younger men moving up. No doubt he was out in Bay City as a way to keep his fingers in the pie until he decided to retire to a condo in sunny Florida. “I tried the straight and narrow route and found out it’s also the poor and broke route.”

“That’s the story of life, kid.” Monteiro smiled at him. A connection to Durniak was worth its weight in gold. He wasn’t as ready to step back and take the smaller jobs as he’d let Parenti think. “I can sure use you.”

“Good. Now can I have my gun back?” He looked Monteiro straight in the eye. “This guy over here took it – which I understand – but now that we’re all on the same team, I’d like it back.”

“Sure. Danny, you got the kid’s gun?”

“Yeah, boss.” Danny handed the .38 to Monteiro. “I’m not bringing nobody in that I don’t frisk first.”

“Always the smart thing.” No sense pissing off his help. “You’re doin’ your job.”

When Monteiro handed the gun to him, Dave tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. “And what will my job be?”

“I’m gonna give you a territory and plenty of help.” He motioned to Danny. “You and Danny seem to have built a working relationship, he can help you out.”

John crouched down outside the office door, listening to Monteiro outline exactly what he expected, from muscling the businesses, to how much to collect, and how much of the share was his. John almost fell over when Monteiro added how much was to be sent to Parenti back in New York.

On the other side of the door, his partner’s mouth dropped open. This was more than they ever dreamed of getting out of this. Shutting down a protection racket was one thing – but this would lead to possibly toppling Parenti’s organization and hurting the mob. The FBI would step in and handle the big stuff – but it was still a hell of a moment.

John lifted the radio. “Now!”

Miller kicked the door open. “Everybody down! BCPD! You’re all under arrest!”

Dave dived behind the desk as Danny pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. He clawed at the .38, pulling it out of his waistband and bringing it up into line just as Danny came around the end of the desk. “Drop it!”

There was a moment when Danny looked him in the eye, and he thought the man would drop his gun. The moment passed and Danny raised his gun. Dave pulled the trigger on the .38.

“Dave!” John pinned Monteiro against the desk. “Dave!”

“I’m all right.” He got up slowly, staring down at the body.

The other men had run out the back door of the office before John or his partner could stop them. They ran right into the waiting arms of the other two teams, and never got off a shot. They were in cuffs and sitting outside even before sirens began to wail in the distance.

“Good job, Dave.” John patted him on the back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He’d killed a man, but it had come down to kill or be killed, and he didn’t have a problem putting it into the proper perspective. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to shoot someone, John.”

“I know that. But this is home and that was – war.”

“What makes you think this isn’t?”

“It’s a different kind of war.” He leaned closer. “Speaking of wars and guns. Give it to me.”

“What?”

“The gun, give it to me.”

“It’s mine.” Dave shook his head.

“Is it legal?” John gave him a knowing look. “Dave, give it to me.”

“It’s sort of legal.” He handed it over. “I need that for protection. I’d have gotten shot if I hadn’t had it in there.”

“And you could have gotten yourself killed when they found it, too.” Emptying the bullets out, John dropped the .38 into his jacket pocket. “Then your mother would’ve killed me.”

“Don’t forget Aunt Rosie and Aunt Maggie.” Dave grinned.

“They’d be on me like a pack of avenging angels.”

“Why did knowing who my father was mean so much to Monteiro?” Dave watched as the man was put into the back of a black and white unit. “It was almost as important as finding out that I might be connected to Joey.”

“The way your father was killed, possibly? It’s no secret that he was standing up to the mob and they killed him for it.”

“You’d think that’d get me less respect, not more.”

“Not true, Dave. Your dad had guts. They respect that.”

“They respected him – “ Dave turned to stare out into the darkness. “But they killed him.”

“From what I’ve heard, your father took a few of them down with him.” John laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “And I know that I respect that in a man. I hope I go down with a fight when it’s my time.”

“Yeah. I guess.” In the long run, his pop was still dead, so what did it matter?

“I think that your father would be proud of you.” As much as he wanted Dave to be his own son, he’d always made it clear that he was not trying to replace Michael Starsky. “He’d be proud of what you’ve done here tonight.”

That made him feel good, and Dave turned back to John. “I guess he would be, huh?”

“I know I am.” He smiled at him. “Come on, let’s get you back to your cab before somebody steals it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know a cop.” He laughed as he followed John back to his car.

“What do you mean, I’m fired?”

“Just like I said, you’re fired!” Rustin pointed at the door. “I’ll mail your check – now get the hell out!”

“What the hell did I do?” Dave watched as Rustin emptied out his locker into a box.

“What did you do? Are you a retard?” The man slammed the locker shut and tossed the box at Dave’s feet. “You got cops crawling all over the place!”

“I just helped you out! Saved you money – and you’re firing me?”

“Hey, I told you I didn’t want trouble – “ Rustin jammed a finger into Dave’s chest. “And you are trouble!”

“I’m trouble? I’m trouble?” Dave slapped the man’s hand away. “You’re an idiot!”

“Get out! If they come after you – I don’t want them finding you here!”

“This is what I get for doing a good deed.” Muttering to himself, he went outside. Tossing the box into the backseat, Dave dropped into the driver’s seat. He started the Camaro, revving the engine up a few times to make it scream before tearing out of the lot and down the street.

He didn’t feel like going home and talking to his aunt and uncle about what had happened. He wanted to be alone for a while. Spotting a bar that said it was open twenty four hours a day, Dave pulled over in front of it and parked.

There was a slender black man washing glasses behind the bar. “Your face looks low enough to step on.”

“Never mind stepping on it, just give me a beer to fill it with.” Dave sat down at the bar and tossed a five on the scarred wood. “And keep them coming.”

“Whatever you want, my man. The Bear is here to please.” He filled a mug with beer and set it on the bar.

The first two went down quickly before he slowed down and nursed the third. Somewhere between number four and five, John sat down next to him.

“Hey, Huggy, gimme a coffee, will ya?” John hollered back into the small kitchen behind the bar.

“On its way.”

“What’s the matter, kid?” He turned to Dave. “We got the bad guys.”

“Yeah.” Dave took a swallow of his beer. “And I got fired.”

“What? Why?”

“The owner, he doesn’t want any trouble. He thinks if they come looking for me to get even, they should look somewhere else.”

“Tough break.” Huggy set a cup of black coffee on the bar, and John took a careful drink. “You’re not cut out to be a cabbie anyway.”

“Looks like I’m cut out to work for my uncle.”

“You should consider becoming a cop.” John winked at Huggy. The other man shook his head and went back to washing glasses.

“What are you, crazy?” Imagining himself in uniform, Dave laughed. “I’d have to be crazy.”

“You’ve got the feel for it, Dave. You got Monteiro to say exactly what we needed him to say. Not only that, you got him to give up his boss!”

“Yeah, well – how hard is it to get them to do that?” He took another long drink of his beer.

“It’s harder than you’d think.” John tapped the bar with his forefinger. “I’ve known guys who’ve been cops for years who couldn’t pull that kind of info.”

“It did feel good to lock them up.” A smile covered his face as he remembered Monteiro and his boys being handcuffed and hauled away. “People shouldn’t have to pay jerks like that just to make a living.”

“You’ve got a real strong sense of right and wrong, Dave. And that’s exactly what we need.” John took another drink of his coffee before pushing the cup back. “It is a war some days, and we need all the good soldiers we can get.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do that.” Getting up, John slapped him on the back. “You could do some real good out here.”

Huggy picked up the cup, pushing John’s money back. “Your money ain't no good here today, man.”

“Thanks, Huggy.” He wasn’t surprised that Huggy knew about the bust. The man must sleep with an ear to the ground – if he slept. “Take good care of Dave here for me, will ya?”

“I’ll watch over him as if he were my own.” Huggy promised.

“Better watch it, Huggy.” Dave laughed. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

“Ain’t it the truth?”

Duluth

There was a party going at his frat house by the time he got back. Nothing unusual there. Ken sat down and let the music relax him. It went nicely with the Jack and Coke he’d had earlier, and he found himself grooving along.

Just as he was considering getting up and going upstairs to get his guitar, he caught a bit of a conversation.

“So you get the signs ready, and then we’ll meet up at the library.” Connie was saying. “Then we’ll march from there to the ROTC building.”

“What for?” Ken asked her. “They’re students just like us.”

“They’re baby killers!” Connie shouted at him. “Warmongers!”

“Right on, man!” Someone shouted.

“They rape and kill and murder innocent civilians!”

“How can you believe that all our soldiers are doing things like that?” Hutch looked around at the others in the room who were agreeing with Connie. “What about Lewis? Do you think he’d do anything like that?”

There was a ripple of laughter in the room. Ken looked around at them. “What?”

“My old man already got me out of it, remember?” Lewis laughed. “Come on man, like one of us will ever go?”

“Yeah, 'cos man, the world needs more lawyers!” Rick hooted.

There was more laughter.

Ken got up and walked outside. The cool air hit him in the face, and he took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. Too much was going on, and he didn’t feel like he fit in here any longer. Parties and protests – talk of changing the system – only to take advantage of the loopholes it offered?

He set off at a brisk walk, not sure of where he was going, only that he didn’t want to be here.

If not here, then where? And doing what? His mind was spinning. Too much had happened in the past few days for him to get a handle on it all. If I stay here, will I end up like my father? Polite dinner conversation and using the law to screw people out of justice? Why can’t –

A scream interrupted his thoughts. A scream that was quickly cut off. Stopping, Ken listened again. Recently several girls had been attacked on campus and the man had yet to be arrested. There was the sound of scuffling in the bushes off to his right.

Running toward the sound, he saw a man wearing a mask holding a girl down, struggling to keep her from screaming while he tore at her clothes. The girl’s blue eyes were wide and frightened as they met Ken’s over her attacker’s shoulder.

“Get the hell off of her!” Ken grabbed the guy and pulled him off the girl.

“She asked for it!” The guy threw him off. “She wants it!”

“Does she? I doubt that.” He rushed the guy and grabbed him again, expertly bringing him to the ground and holding him there.

The girl was sitting up, clutching her torn shirt around herself and crying.

“Go get help!” Ken shouted at her. “Get the police!”

“I – I don’t – “ She looked down at her ripped clothing.

“Go get help – now!”

“Okay – okay – “ Getting up, she ran off down the path toward the center of campus.

“You’re not going anywhere, buddy.” The guy struggled, but three years of wrestling paid off, and Ken held him down easily. “How’s it feel, huh? I think I’ll tell them you asked for it.”

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Just as soon as the cops get here.” Ken grunted as the guy threw his head back and hit him in the forehead. This was a little harder – and more painful – than the controlled matches he was used to. But a lot more satisfying in the long run.

“Over there – he’s over there!” The girl’s frantic voice came from up the path.

“Hey!” Ken shouted. “I’ve got the guy – hurry!”

The guy began struggling with renewed energy, and it was all Ken could do to keep him pinned down until the campus police arrived. They quickly cuffed the guy and dragged him off toward the waiting car.

“Good job, kid.” One of the officers helped him up. “We’ll need both of you to come with us. We’ve called the police, and they should be here pretty quick.”

“Sure.” Ken brushed the dirt off his clothes. “Say, do you have a blanket or something for her?”

“We’ve got one in the car.” The officer led the girl to the car and got her a blanket out of the trunk.

When she stood staring and unmoving, Ken took the blanket and wrapped it around her. “Come on, it’ll be all right.”

“He didn’t – he didn’t – “ She looked up at him. One side of her face was turning an ugly black and blue. “I didn’t want him to – “

“I know.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “He was lying, I know that.”

Ken didn’t want to subject her to sitting in the same car with her attacker; instead, he borrowed a coat from one of the security officers to put on her and then wrapped the blanket tightly around her. She was shaking, and he was afraid it wasn’t only from the cold.

Two black and white squad cars pulled up within minutes. A pair of officers moved the girl’s attacker to one of them and it left for the station. One of the other officers approached Ken and the girl.

“Sir? We’ll need the both of you to come downtown.”

“Sure. We’re ready to go, aren’t we?” Ken asked the girl. She didn’t answer but let him lead her to the other police car.

At the station, Ken watched with fascination as people were brought in and put through processing. From where he sat, he could see criminals being fingerprinted and booked. Statements were being taken, and uniformed officers came and went constantly.

“Thank you, Mr. Hutchinson.” The officer said as he finished taking Ken’s statement. Reading back over it, he was impressed with the detail. Most witnesses had vague impressions of what happened. It all happened so fast was practically its own key on his typewriter.

“Oh, you’re welcome.” Ken shook his hand. “I’m glad to help.”

“I wish she was.” The other uniformed officer that had been on the scene sat down at one of the empty desks.

“The girl?” He looked around, finding her sitting on a bench across the room, crying and rocking. “What’s wrong?”

“She doesn’t want to press charges.”

“But – then – “

“Yeah, the guy walks.” The officer looked disgusted. “The detectives are trying to get together the info we have from the other cases to see if we can hang on to him with what we’ve got. Otherwise, we have to let him go.”

“But I saw him.” Ken tapped his chest with a finger. “I saw him attacking her – holding her down.”

“And I wish that was good enough, Mr. Hutchinson. I really do.” The officer told him. “But he says it was consensual, and it just got a bit rough. If she doesn’t say otherwise – we’ve got no choice in the matter.”

“That’s – “ Everything he hated about the law. “Where is the damn justice?”

Getting up, Ken went to the girl and sat down beside her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Jenna – it’s Jenna.”

“Jenna. I’m Ken.” He smiled at her. “Strange having to introduce ourselves, isn’t it?”.

“The whole night has been strange.” She said softly.

“Jenna, I know that this is hard for you. But you have to tell them what happened.”

“How would you know how hard it is?” Her voice was bitter, and tears began to run down her face again.

“Because it’s hard for me to see you this way.” Gently, he wiped the tears off her cheeks. “I don’t even know you, Jenna, and it’s hard for me to see you hurt and frightened.”

She looked into the baby blue eyes, surprised at the compassion there. “You know what they’ll say? That I wanted him to do it.”

“I know. But we know that’s not true.” He’d seen her struggling with the man, and he was happy to tell anyone and everyone that Jenna hadn’t asked for what had happened to her. “I saw what was happening, and I’ve told them everything.”

“I’m scared.” Jenna looked down at her hands, at her dirty fingers clutching the blanket.

“But if he’s not in jail – “ Her eyes shot back up to his, and Ken felt guilty for manipulating her. “Won’t you be even more frightened?”

Her bottom lip trembled. She was terrified by the thought of going back to her dorm and knowing that he was back out there. Waiting for her…

“He’s attacked other girls, Jenna.” Ken reached for her hands and held them in his own, shocked at how cold they were. “You can stop him from ever doing this again. Isn’t that worth the hassle?”

“Will they lock him up?” Jenna asked softly.

“Yes.” He smiled at her. “We’ll get him locked up for a long time.”

“Okay.”  Her smile was wobbly, but it was there.

“Come on, let’s go talk to the officers and tell them what happened.” Getting up, Ken led her back to the desk he’d been sitting at and tucked the blanket around her as she sat down.

The officer began slowly, knowing that she was in a fragile state. “First, let’s get your name.”

Ken sat next to her while they took her statement and then helped her into a police car so that they could take her to the hospital for a full exam. Jenna hadn’t been raped – Ken had gotten there in time – but she still had injuries that needed medical documentation.

“Thanks, Mr. Hutchinson.”

He turned to find the officer that had taken their statements standing behind him. “My pleasure.”

“You should consider a career in law enforcement.”

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that today.” Ken laughed.

“Your statement was detailed and full of pertinent information.” The officer told him. “And you were great with her. Handling victims is an important part of the job.”

“You could have gotten her to give a statement.” Ken felt his face coloring. “I was just – here.”

“No. I couldn’t, and I didn’t.” He shook his head. “And neither did my partner. We were gonna send for a female officer to talk to her and hope she could get her to press charges. Lucky for us, you had the right touch.”

“I have a sister.” The thought of someone abusing his sister made his skin crawl. “I’d want someone to help her.”

“That’s what we all want.”

There was a whooping behind him, and the officer turned. His partner was holding the door open. “We got him!”

“What?” He went up the stairs, with Ken following him.

“His prints came back! He’s got warrants for aggravated assault, burglary, and armed robbery!”

“Yeah!” He grabbed his partner in a bear hug. “That’ll nail the son of a bitch!”

“What’s – “ Ken was surprised to find himself in the center of several police officers. They were slapping him on the back and shaking his hand. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Didn’t do anything? You caught the guy!”

“I did? I did?” He smiled. “I guess I did.”

“Everybody get back to work!” A voice bellowed over the commotion. “You think that’s the only crime we’ve got waiting to be solved!”

The officers scattered, and Ken found himself looking up at the precinct captain. The man extended his hand as he came down the stairs. “Thanks for your help.”

“Oh – you’re welcome!” He shook the captain’s hand firmly. “It feels good!”

“It does, doesn’t it?” The man smiled. “We’ll take you back to campus now, Mr. Hutchinson. The DA will be calling you in a day or two to discuss your testimony.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Ken watched the captain walk back to his office. He felt great. Like he was going to burst. “I can’t wait.” I don’t want to leave!

The sergeant in charge of the desk looked up as the doors opened. “Hey, it’s the wrestling champ!”

“Hi.” Ken walked over to the desk. “I got a message to come down and talk to one of the detectives.”

“Upstairs, second door on your right.” He jerked a thumb at the stairs. “Good work the other night.”

“Thanks.” Going up the stairs, Ken returned the waves of several of the officers on duty. He knocked on the door and someone inside yelled at him to come in.

“Mr. Hutchinson.” The detective got up from his desk. “You didn’t have to come down, you could have called back.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“We’re not going to need you to testify. The guy cut a deal with the DA’s office.”

“What?” The good mood that had buoyed him up for the last two days burst, letting him hit reality with a thud.

“Seems he knows some things – “

“Of course he does – “ Ken raked a hand through his hair. “The law is being twisted around and used to – “

“No, nothing like that.” The detective assured him. “He’s gonna do time, and a lot of it. But he rolled over on a murderer.”

“I – I don’t understand.”

“It seems he has some information on a couple of murders we’ve been trying to solve.” The detective handed him a file. “He asked for a deal, and it’s too good to pass up. This guy’s a rapist and a thief – but a murderer?”

Ken had to agree that it was better to catch a murderer than to see how many years they could pile onto a rapist’s sentence. The pictures in the file made him gulp and hand it back. “He’s still going to jail, though?”

“It’ll be a long time before he sees a view without bars in the way.”

“Two for one then.” The good feeling was back. Smiling, Ken got up and shook the detective’s hand. “If you need me for anything…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll call you.” He nodded. “And you did a hell of a job – if you ever want to get into police work – just let me know.”

“Thanks.”

Downstairs, Ken was surprised to see Luke Huntley leaning on the main desk talking to the sergeant. “Luke, hey there. Thought you were going back to Bay City?”

“I am. Just as soon as they bring my prisoner out to me.” The other man held a hand out, shaking Ken’s firmly. “I hear you did a hell of a job subduing a rapist the other night. Good job!”

“It was nothing, I was just in the right place at the right time.” He laughed. “Oh, hell, I’m lying – it feels damn good.”

“Doesn’t it?” Luke took an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to him. “When you get to Bay City, give this to the folks at the Academy and then come look me up. I’ll make sure you have a place to stay while you get settled in.”

“I haven’t decided to join the force.” Shocked, Ken stared at the envelope. “Let alone decided to move all the way to Bay City.”

“Oh? Haven’t you?” Luke patted him on the shoulder as he walked away.

Ken looked up to see the sergeant grinning. “Really. I haven’t. I – I mean – I – really.”

Parking in front of his frat house, Ken went inside to find a party going. There’s a real shocking development.

“Hey, man!” Rick got up off the couch. “I heard you were helping the fuzz.”

“That’s what I was doing, Rick.” He winked. “Helping the fuzz.”

The sarcasm went over Rick’s head. “Helping that chick was pretty cool, but I don’t know if I’d want the hassle.”

“Me either.” Lewis agreed. “Let someone else handle it.”

“Let someone else handle it?” Ken looked at his friends. “Let someone – you know, you’re right.”

“Hey, man, why don’t you get your guitar?” Rick looked over his shoulder at the girls sitting on the couch. “The chicks are waiting.”

“Sorry, Rick.” He patted him on the shoulder as he walked past. “I don’t want the hassle. Let someone else handle it.”

Upstairs, Ken began to pack.

“Kenneth!”

His hands shook slightly as he tucked the flaps in on the box he’d just packed.

“Kenneth!” Lawrence Hutchinson stormed into his son’s room. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Walters, if you’d have these boxes put in the attic for me?” Ken said to the butler, relieved that his voice had stayed steady.

“Very good, sir.” The butler kept his glee carefully hidden under his proper British butler exterior as he left the room.

“I asked what you’re doing.” Lawrence ignored the butler as if the man didn’t exist. “I got a call at my office today from your advisor. He called to let me know that my son had dropped out!”

“That was very nice of him.” Ken walked around the room doing a last minute check of the drawers and the closets. “Considering his busy schedule.”

“Very nice – “ Gaping, it took a minute to for Lawrence to get back to the issue at hand. “Why have you dropped out?”

“I’m going to Bay City to apply to the Police Academy.” The words came out easily enough, but then he’d practiced them while he’d packed up his room at the frat house, while he’d driven home, and while he’d packed up here.

“You will not quit school!” His father shouted at him. “And you will not join the police force!”

His father was shouting, something he’d never heard before. The realization that his father was so angry that he would resort to shouting made Ken smile.

Walking to his father, Ken looked him in the eye. “Yes. I am.”

The shocked look on his father’s face made this the most satisfying moment of his life. This was the first time he’d ever stood up to his father, and it felt great.

Lawrence could barely speak. “You have a duty to your family! Duty and responsibility! Do you have any idea how important it is to uphold the Hutchinson name?”

“No.” Picking up the last of his bags from the bed, Ken left the room.

He was halfway down the stairs before his father shouted at him again.

“What if they don’t take you? Have you thought of that?”

“Actually, no. I haven’t.” Smiling, Ken realized that for the first time, there was no clear stopping place for his life – only wide open road ahead of him.

“You’re running off across the country and you don’t even know if they’ll accept you?”

“Mother is in her room with a headache, Father – “ Ken walked to where Walters waited to open the front door. “I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate raised voices in the house.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Hutchinson.” Walters swung the door open as he approached.

“Thank you, Walters.” The butler’s face was impassive as always, but Ken thought he saw a sparkle in the brown eyes. “It’s been fun.”

“Indeed, sir.”

The door closed behind him and Ken walked over to the car he’d purchased after he’d sold his Karmann Ghia. The LTD was ugly and bigger than a boat, but it would handle pulling the U-Haul trailer over the mountains and it had room for the rest of his stuff in the backseat.

Pulling out of the driveway, Ken realized he had no idea what he’d do if the Bay City Police Academy turned him down. The thought scared and excited him at the same time. He turned up the radio and pointed the car toward California.

Bay City

“Luke, there’s a car in the driveway.”

“What?” Getting up from the kitchen table, Luke peered out the kitchen window. Sure enough, a dirty car with a trailer hitched to it was sitting in their driveway. “I’ll see who it is.”

He grabbed his holster off the chair, strapping it on and pulling his robe on over it. More than likely it was just somebody who was lost, but you never knew these days.

Outside, he walked carefully up to the car. It appeared to be empty. Minnesota license plates. No, it couldn’t be. Luke peered through the driver’s window, smiling as he saw Ken Hutchinson asleep in the front seat.

Laughing, he tapped on the window. “Ken – hey, wake up.”

Ken jerked awake, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

“Why didn’t you ring the bell?”

“It was three in the morning.” He yawned. “I think. I don’t know if I reset my watch.”

“You should’ve rang the damn bell.”

“So, is that offer of a place to stay still open?” Ken asked hopefully.

Luke opened the car door. “Get in the house! What’s the matter with you, sleeping in the driveway?”

“Well, I didn’t want to wake anybody up.” He got out and sidestepped the playful swat Luke aimed at him.

“Just get in the house.”

Dave trudged up the back steps and into the house. He was tired all the way down to his toes. He’d gone back to work for his uncle and sold cars eight hours a day – after he’d hit the pavement each morning looking for another job.

The long days with a topping of rejection were wearing him down. Not rejection on the car lot – he could sell cars in his sleep – but on the job front. Nobody wanted to hire a vet with no real skills. He could do two things: sell cars and shoot people. His career path was limited, according to one of the personnel agencies he’d worked with. Apparently there were no jobs where he could sell cars and shoot people.

Lately, Dave had begun to think he should leave off the Army time when he filled out an application. Too many prospective employers looked at that and asked if he’d been in Vietnam. When he said he had, they always got this funny look on their face. As if he might go psycho right there in their lobby.

“What’s that smell?” Stopping, Dave inhaled the wonderful scent filing the warm kitchen. “Is that lasagna?”

“David, come into the living room, please.” His Aunt Rosie’s voice drifted down the hallway.

He opened the oven and peeked in, grinning at the sight of the huge pan his aunt made lasagna in. “I know my pasta.”

“David, please.”

“I’m comin’!” He shut the oven door and rubbed his stomach in anticipation of dinner. “How much longer does it have to cook? I swear I could eat a – “

He stopped as he walked into the living room. There were blue and black streamers draped everywhere and a large handmade banner hung over the TV. Congratulations Cadet Starsky!

“What’s – “ He stared at the sign. “What’s this for?”

“Congratulations, Dave!” His uncle slapped him on the back.

“I’m proud of you, kid.” John was there as well, shaking his hand. “I knew you could do it.”

“What did I do?”

“Here.” Rosie handed him an envelope. “This came for you today.”

The envelope had Bay City Police Academy typed neatly in the upper left corner, and his name was showing through the clear window. “Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you put your application in?” Al looked over his shoulder. “Go on, open it.”

“What if it says no?” Panic hit him. Why the hell had he done this? “This could be sayin’ they don’t want me.”

“Dave, just open it.” John hid his smile. He and the other men who’d worked with Dave to grab Monteiro had written letters of recommendation for him when they’d gotten word that he’d applied to the Academy.

He didn’t plan to tell Dave about it. After all, the kid hadn’t told a soul he’d applied. If not for an old buddy of his who worked in admissions at the Academy, John wouldn’t have known. He wouldn’t have known that Dave was accepted either. He winked at his wife.

The envelope wobbled in his hands, and Dave realized that he was shaking. “It’s probably saying thanks but no thanks.”

“David.” Rosie brushed her fingers along his forearm. “Please, open the letter.”

“All right – “ He looked up at her. “Here goes nothin’.”

Ripping the envelope open, he scanned the letter looking for the bad news. “David M. Starsky… thank you for… your qualifications… pleased to welcome you – ” He blinked. It was still there. “Pleased – to – welcome – you – “

“Congratulations!” They surrounded him, slapping his back and both Maggie and Rosie kissing his cheeks.

“They accepted me?” Dave sat down on the sofa, still staring at the letter. “I can’t believe it.”

“I can.” John sat down next to him. “You’re a vet – a decorated one at that. They know you’ve got the discipline and you’ve been tested under fire.”

“I didn’t realize that was an important experience.” He joked, finally looking up from the letter. “Maybe I’d have taken a moment to enjoy it.”

“You helped lock up those mobsters, too.” Maggie sat on the arm of the sofa and slid an arm around John’s shoulders. “They can see you’ve got what it takes. I’m so proud of you, Dave.”

“Thanks, Aunt Maggie.” Dave looked at the letter again. Maybe he should have this framed.

It had felt good sitting at the station house and giving his statement, watching Monteiro and his boys getting printed and locked up. The camaraderie had reminded him of being with his unit in ‘Nam. Depending on each other because each other was all they had.

After several days of working for his uncle and getting repeatedly turned down for other jobs – Dave had figured what the hell and driven to the Police Academy to apply for the next class. He really hadn’t expected to get accepted.

“You should have seen his statement, Al.” John leaned back against Maggie, smiling affectionately up at her. “Detailed – pertinent – articulate. Although we couldn’t use certain words like scumbag and dirtball.”

Al laughed. “Nothing wrong with a little colorful language, John.”

“That’s not what Captain Sullivan would say.”

“Do I have to cut my hair?” He’d been letting his hair grow out again. “The Army made me cut it all off before I came home – had to be regulation.”

“Maybe a little. There’s regs to follow, but not quite as bad as in the Army.” John laughed as Maggie leaned down and ran her fingers through the dark curls.

“Aunt Maggie!” Dave batted her hand away.

“They won’t make you cut off those pretty curls.” She gave his hair one last ruffle with her fingers. “Don’t worry, the girls will still come running.”

Rosie brought him the phone. “David, your mother wants to talk to you.”

He looked up at the gentle brown eyes filled with love, and he took the phone with one hand, motioning for her to lean down with the other.

“What do you need, David?” She leaned down. “I did not spill the beans.”

Dave pressed his cheek to hers, whispering in her ear. “Love you, Aunt Rosie.”

She gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before going back to the kitchen, her cheeks flushed red.

“Ma?” Dave lifted the phone to his ear, grinning as he watched his uncle follow her. A little kiss and cuddle was going to follow – they were still doing soapy scenes after twenty years. “Hey, Ma, it’s Davey. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

He frowned. “No, I’m not getting married. What do you mean, why not? Ma!”

John laughed. “Every mother’s dream.” Getting up, he took Maggie’s hand. “Let’s give Dave some privacy.”

“Rosie and Al are in the kitchen.” She reminded him.

“So we’ll look for privacy on the front porch.” He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side.

“Ma – of course I know a girl – I know lots of girls.” Dave fell back against the sofa cushions. “Yes, they’re nice girls! Ma – I had a date just last night with Candi. Yes, her name is Candi.”

He rolled his eyes. “No she’s ah... a… she types eighty words a minute. What does it matter if she cooks? Ma…”

Dave held the phone out from his ear for a moment. When he heard a pause in his mother’s lecture on the qualifications for a wife, he jumped in. “Ma, I joined the Police Academy – I mean I got accepted to the Police Academy.”

There was sudden and total silence from New York City.

“Ma, did you hear me? I start on Monday. Aw… please don’t cry, Ma. I thought you’d be happy.” He laughed. “Sorry, I have trouble telling the happy crying from the not happy crying. No, that’s not why I need a wife!”

All roads led back to wives, it seemed. “So you’re happy then? Really? Of course I thought you’d be proud.” He rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I think Pop would be proud, too. I know he did, Ma, I loved him, too.”

A smile covered his face. “I love you, too, Ma.”

The Finale: I Stick My Neck Out For Nobody, Sweetheart