* * *

* * *

After having Anthony Reuben successfully handcuffed, Starsky looked away from the sight before him. Luke Huntley was sobbing brokenly, head and arms hanging as Hutch held his mentor within the circle of his arms.

"Come on," Starsky muttered to Reuben, jerking the man toward the open door of the Torino. None too gently, he shoved the other into the back seat. Reuben deserved to go to prison... for running a multitude of illegal operations, not the least of which was the gambling establishment where Doris Huntley had lost her and her husband's life savings of $50,000. To get the money back, Luke Huntley had arranged it so that the biggest witness against Reuben, which Huntley was assigned to guard, was conveniently unguarded while Reuben's henchman murdered him. In exchange for allowing the witness to be murdered, Huntley wanted the $50,000 back. And Reuben had delivered -- along with a handful of muscle men, no doubt designed to make sure Reuben got rid of Huntley and reclaimed his money. It was only the appearance of Starsky and Hutch that had kept any lives from being lost.

Which was a consolation, Starsky thought grimly, but there were a lot of victims in this case. Luke Huntley was likely to go to prison, thereby leaving Doris, who loved her husband dearly but gambled to ease the loneliness of being childless and married to a dedicated detective, all the more reason to stay involved in sins such as gambling. Hopefully, Reuben would end up in prison, too, but with the $50,000 unavailable as evidence, a slick lawyer might be able to get him off.

Thereby, Starsky fumed inwardly, leaving Hutch the most injured party of all.

With Reuben sitting quietly in the back seat of the Torino, Starsky closed the door and approached the two clinging men. Huntley's sobs were drying up, but he still could barely hold himself erect, and Hutch had gentled his hold, and now had his chin locked over Huntley's shoulder, stroking the older man's back.

Starsky knew how that embrace felt, knew how those strokes could soothe and ease. He hoped Huntley was worth it. "Hutch," he said quietly.

The blond raised his head and regarded Starsky with a sad frown.

Starsky looked his partner in the eye. "I'll call for backup to take care of those other goons." He tilted his gaze toward the warehouse, trying to remind Hutch of the briefcase that had been tossed over a stack of crates once the fighting broke out. Starsky knew it would never rank as the most ethical act of their professional lives, but Hutch had pointedly told him how it was going to be, and Starsky hadn't argued; now they both were going to have to live with whatever consequences would stem from their silent agreement.

Huntley seemed to understand the communication. He straightened, then slumped against Reuben's car, from which he had dragged the other in a near killing rage when Reuben tried to get away. "For Doris," Huntley reminded in a whisper.

Hutch stepped back from his mentor, then squeezed his arm. A quick nod, and the blond was off toward the warehouse.

Both men watched him go.

"You realize," Starsky said quietly, "that with the star witness dead, and without the fifty grand as evidence, Reuben is probably gonna walk."

Huntley shook his head. "It doesn't matter so much now, Starsky. I just want Doris to have what rightfully belongs to her."

A part of Starsky would always care for Huntley, because the older detective cared so much for Hutch. But some part of him had always had the suspicion that Huntley was missing a few screws. He'd always stayed mum on the subject because Hutch held Huntley in such high regard. And, now, Starsky couldn't help but partially quote his own partner's words, when they both had showed up at the warehouse to try to talk Huntley out of meeting with Reuben: "How much do you think that fifty grand in going to mean to Doris if you're in prison?"

Huntley bowed his head. Then, softly, "I was never around much, anyway. She can't be any worse off than she was. At least, this way, she'll be taken care of financially."

Starsky didn't have the heart to point out that, with her track record, Doris was as likely to gamble away $50,000 a second time as she was the first.

But Starsky was all heart where Hutch was concerned. With Huntley and him alone, this was his one chance to speak to the older man privately. He looked at Luke, intensifying his gaze until the other's cautious orbs met his. "This better," the smaller detective said firmly, "take care of whatever favors Hutch owes you. The slate is clean, Huntley. Got that?"

Starsky knew, from the light in the other's eyes, that his point was understood.

Still, Huntley rallied. With a quiet voice, which was no less firm, he replied, "This isn't about favors as much as family, Starsky. Hutch is like a son to me."

It was then that Starsky knew exactly what strings Luke had pulled to get Hutch to go along with what he wanted. The flame that burned for Me and Thee flared within, and Starsky let his eyes reflect the coldness that gripped his heart. "What father would ask his son to do the wrong thing?"

Huntley's mouth parted, his eyes narrowing speculatively, and it was a moment before he spoke. "You're out of line." But the tone wasn't as strong as before.

Starsky crossed his arms. "Look, Huntley, I don't give a damn about the money. Reuben's not going to say anybody took it because he'll deny it ever existed. So Doris will get her fifty grand without Hutch and me ever having to compromise ourselves. But just understand that I don't see you with rose-colored glasses the way Hutch does. I'm going along with what you want, because it's what he wants. But this is the end of the line. Hutch doesn't owe you a damn thing."

For a brief moment, Huntley's eyes flared with anger. But now they softened, and he only nodded agreement. "Sure. Why should he need anything from me, anymore? He's matured into an outstanding cop, an outstanding person, and he's got you for a partner... and a friend. I have loved him," Huntley looked again toward the warehouse, "like a son." His voice softened to a dry whisper. "I've always felt that, if Doris and I had had children, that I'd want them to be just like Kenny."

Starsky turned away, hoping he could trust the sincerity in the speech. They'd given Hutch plenty of time to collect the brief case, and he moved to the Torino to call for backup.

CHAPTER 1