When the Chips Are Down, Part Two

89

Are things really as they seem, or does The Baron have some other cards up his sleeve? Starsky and Hutch will soon find out!

 

Artwork by Virginia Sky.

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With thanks to Lucy

 

 

“Ah, shit!” Starsky exclaimed behind him. “He’s already been and gone. What you want to bet that the dark space behind that hole somehow connects to the room underneath?”

“No bets,” Hutch said sourly, raising his hands and letting them fall helplessly. “I’ll bet he just walked out of this bathroom with his prize during the evacuation. He’s probably miles away and laughing at us right now.”

Starsky turned back into the hallway, slapping the wall angrily. Hutch sighed, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms.

“I’m telling you,” Starsky began, sounding irritated, head down, one hand on his hip and the other stabbing the air toward Hutch, “that he’s done this just to get back at us for that diamond thing we screwed up for him. He wants to make us look like fools.”

“C’mon, Starsk! He didn’t even know we were coming. He just wanted the Golden Peacock and we just happened to be close enough for him to rub our noses in it. It’s the local PD and the Feds who are going to look like fools when those armored cars aren’t touched and they remember that they were given a warning they chose to ignore.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Starsky said, cooling down a little. “But it just galls me, ya know? We were so close!”

“Which only counts in horseshoes,” Hutch replied automatically. He sighed, knowing Starsky was right. It did rankle, which is probably the reason The Baron invited them to try to catch him. He turned and walked slowly toward the front of the toy store.

He could hear Starsky following him for a few steps, then stop.

Turning, he looked at Starsky who was standing in the entrance to the back rooms, a far away look on his face.

“What?” Hutch asked, knowing that something besides the obvious was nagging at the back of his lover’s mind.

Before he could say anything, Riggs came barreling through the open window, crunching broken glass under his feet, Smithson and Palmer behind him.

“Tell me you caught them!” Riggs bellowed loudly. “Because if you haven’t, I think there are going to be heads rolling soon, and I’m afraid mine is going to be one of them!”

“I guess this means that peacock is gone?” Hutch asked dryly.

“Damn straight,” Smithson muttered as he climbed in the front display behind Palmer. “Door was locked tight, but he got in through the roof somehow. We found a ceiling tile out of place.”

Riggs, looking tired and defeated, followed Starsky’s nod toward the back room. As Riggs stomped off to have a look for himself, Hutch noticed that Starsky looked pre-occupied.

Walking toward him, his back to Smithson and Palmer, Hutch lowered his voice to a whisper.

“What’s nagging at you?”

Starsky looked at him, and Hutch could almost see the gears turning.

“Did you notice anyone carrying large items outside?”

Hutch thought for a moment. There had been a lot of people moving outside, ladies with purses, people with shopping bags. The weather was too hot for heavy coats.

“Something really large? No, can’t say that I did.”

“Well, in case of an evacuation, wouldn’t you be sort of… discouraged from taking boxes or large items with you? Don’t they ask you to leave suitcases and stuff and just leave as you are?”

“Yeah,” Hutch agreed, starting to see what Starsky was getting at. “They don’t want people blocking the aisles or slowing the rest of the people down with bulky objects.”

Starsky moved over to the cash register, turning the postcard holder around until he came to one he seemed interested in. Pulling it out, he glanced at it and handed it to Hutch.

The postcard contained a professional photograph of the Golden Peacock. This one was much better than the newspaper or the brochure copy.

“Look at it,” Starsky said pointing to the tail feathers. “That’s gold, and those feathers are made from a lot of thin, delicate threads. That’s not somethin’ you want to squash in a bag or throw in a box that’s going to get crushed in a crowd.”

“He’d be careful to protect it,” Hutch agreed. “And a properly cushioned box would be big with all the padding it would need.” Hutch flipped over the card, scanning the legend on the back. “See? Eighteen by twenty by ten inches.”

“That would be a big box, which an employee or customer might remember seeing leave this store. Might even be caught on video during one of their hallway sweeps,” Starsky said, eyebrows rising to his hairline. He looked at Hutch expectantly.

“So maybe….”

“So maybe he hasn’t taken it outside.”

“Yet.” Hutch looked around the room suddenly. No boxes, but in the back….

“C’mere guys,” Starsky waved for Smithson and Palmer to join them. “We’ve got some more searching to do.”

Starsky explained to the other two cops that they would be looking for some sort of box or container that was larger than eighteen by twenty. There were cartons of unopened merchandise stuffed everywhere in the storage room. Two large shelving units took over the center floor while wall shelves on all four walls were filled to the ceiling with boxes of every shape and size, not to mention the boxes stacked in the corners.

“Well, gentlemen,” Hutch announced loudly. “Pick a wall and let’s see what we can find.”

Hutch started on the wall to his right and pulled a box out, ripping its seemingly pristine seal of packing tape as he opened it. Inside were bags of stuffed animals.

Several boxes later, skipping those that were obviously too small, Hutch heard an exclamation from Starsky.

“Hutch! C’mere!”

All three men came over to see what he had found.

Starsky pointed to a row of opened toys and boxes. “These all have name tags with room numbers on them. Looks like customers paid for them then asked that they be held or shipped or somethin’. See that one there?”

Hutch looked where he was directed and saw a dollhouse box. Starsky grabbed him by a shirt sleeve, pulling him back to the door, pointing to a large trash bin. “Lookit.”

Inside were bits and pieces of what looked like a broken dollhouse.

“Oh, my heavens,” Smithson groaned. “And here I thought for sure you two had bought the funny farm.”

“See?” Palmer said triumphantly, walking back to the wall with the stored items, hands on hips. “I told you they’d be able to give The Baron a run for his money.”

“Wait now,” Hutch interjected. “We may be all wrong here.”

“Only one way to find out,” Starsky said, glancing at the door as Riggs appeared, looking sick and depressed. “Oh, there you are,” Starsky called to him. “Your friends here got somethin’ to show you.”

Riggs looked unconvinced. “I hope you’re telling me you found a clue big enough to save my ass.”

“Gentlemen, you were telling us your theory?” Starsky said loudly toward the two Reno detectives.

Hutch watched them as they looked at Starsky with disbelief, then glanced at each other, and back to Starsky again.

“Go on, show the nice man what you think you found,” Hutch said waving toward the box on the shelf.

Smithson seemed to recover first, moving toward the back shelf while Palmer looked at them like they’d lost their minds.

“Come on,” Smithson said as he grabbed Palmer’s sleeve to drag him over. “Let’s get this over with.”

Hutch glanced at Riggs, who was taking turns looking at all four of them as if they were all a bit crazy. He perked up when Smithson and Palmer began to move the box, it being obvious that they were handling it carefully. Hutch could tell it was heavier than it should be.”

Smithson cut the lid open with a knife, and, as they all moved closer, Hutch could tell it wasn’t the original tape. He also noted that Smithson took care not to touch the tag that had been taped to the side. If The Baron had addressed it to himself, to be picked up later, there may still be prints on it.

When the top flaps were pulled open, they could see a Styrofoam container that was split down the middle. Carefully turning it on its side, Palmer slid the packing out of the box.

Everyone held their breath as the packing was opened. Shiny in the florescent light of the dark room, a large, golden peacock looked back up at them from its cushioned nest.

“Well, I’ll be damned and proud of it,” Riggs explained, looking at the Golden Peacock in shock. “I believe my ass is well and truly out of the fire, gentlemen, and I owe someone my firstborn.”

Hutch smiled at Riggs, who looked almost dazed by the turn of events.

“And you can thank these two cops. Without them The Baron would have come by in a day or two, asked for his purchase from the storeroom, and walked right out with his prize,” Starsky said happily.

“You bet I’ll thank them. Just as soon as I get this back where it belongs, in the proper vault this time.”

Going to the door, he called for some of his people who had been examining the break-in site in the bathroom. “I assume, Officers, you won’t care if we take this down to the safe?”

Smithson and Palmer, who had been looking at the peacock with slack jaws, suddenly seemed to wake up.

“Oh, uh, actually, we’ll need to call our captain and report this,” Smithson said. “This is all evidence and we don’t want to disturb any more prints than we have to.”

“Don’t worry, Bob,” Palmer interjected. “You can leave one of your men here to watch the process, but you know this is more than you in-house boys can legally handle, it being a real, live break-in and all. But you’re gonna hafta call your men outta the john, too. And leave the safe room downstairs alone. We’re gonna have the fingerprint team down here and cover the place with all that dust and stuff.”

Riggs nodded. “Okay, Darrell, you got it. My boss is going to pitch a fit, but he’s never liked working with cops anyway. This will just be the topper to one bitch of a day.”

Riggs left the room, giving orders on his walkie-talkie as he did so.

As soon as he was out the door, Smithson walked up to them.

“You guys really going to let us take the credit on this? This would be a huge feather in your cap, you know, besting The Baron twice and all.”

Hutch looked at Starsky, seeing agreement there.

“Well, credit is nice,” Hutch said casually.

“But what it really means is a shitload of paperwork. Which we’re going to be doing enough of when we give our statements,” Starsky continued, a mischievous smile taking over his face.

“We’re still on vacation,” Hutch reminded them both.

Starsky sighed as he looked at his watch. “And since we’re going to be missing our flight, what we’d really like would be for your captain to call our captain in the morning.”

“And explain why we’re not at work,” Hutch added.

Palmer smiled at them. “Well, by the stink of this mess, and the fact the Feds are going to want to chew asses because they’re gonna look like fools, I’d say you probably won’t be free to leave until….” he scowled down at the floor, scratching his head.

“Until at least Sunday afternoon,” Smithson said, slapping his partner on the back. “You know how those Feds like you to answer a million questions. And since you’re our guests, bet we can even sweet talk our “captain into putting you two up at a better hotel.”

“Could even find time to hang out a bit,” Palmer agreed, smiling wildly and rocking happily on the balls of his feet.

“Well,” Starsky said, mock defeat in his voice. “If we have to. Guess it’s part of our duty as Bay City detectives to be as cooperative as we can. Right, Hutch?”

“Right,” Hutch agreed. “Brothers in arms, and all that.”

It wasn’t long before a mob of police teams arrived to join the fire department and the confused guests inside and outside the casino. The four of them had to move outside while the “professionals” went to work.

Well, Baron, Hutch thought as he sat with Starsky against a wall in the hallway outside, waiting for their turn to be grilled, you almost had us this time. But close only counts in horseshoes. That’ll teach you to mess with the best! Maybe next time….

For some reason, Hutch was sure there would be a next time.

And heaven help me, but I’m looking forward to it. One of these days, Baron, my partner and I are going to bring you in.

Bet the bank on it.

 

 

They didn’t have to wait too long before Palmer strode over to them, a smile on his face and mischief in his eyes. Starsky could imagine how this day was going to look on his and Smithson’s records. Not bad for a dead-end assignment. He and Smithson were definitely going to owe him and Hutch a big favor someday.

Never hurts to make friends, Starsky thought as the other cop came over and squatted in front of them. Especially when it doesn’t cost you anything.

“So, how’re things going in there?” Hutch asked leaning casually against the hallway wall.

“Well, to tell you the truth, it’s kind of embarassin’, gettin’ your ass kissed this publicly and all. ‘Course, when Captain Reighter gets here that’ll stop pretty quick. Then he’ll be holding his ass out for affection.”

Starsky and Hutch both laughed, Starsky not even wanting that image in his mind.

“Your captain likes to take the credit, does he?” Hutch asked.

“He lives for it,” Palmer said with a smile. “But you guys didn’t have to do that, leave us with the glory, you know.”

“We know,” Starsky said, shrugging. “We’re fine. You guys run with it.”

“That’s all well and good, gentlemen, but I have a feeling The Baron is going to remember this a bit differently than the way the final police reports are going to tell it.”

“I don’t think The Baron is going to be a problem,” Hutch said. “Worst I think we can expect from him is that we get invited to another game.”

As they were talking, Starsky noticed two elderly men making their way down the hall as if they had no worries about being kicked out of the middle of a police investigation. One of them, a tall, portly man, was dressed in a turquoise suit that looked like it was from a casino’s show. It was a bright color to start with, but the extra buttons and bits sewn on at the shoulders and sleeves reminded Starsky of the fancy cowboy outfit Hutch had worn undercover one time. And the matching design on the cowboy hat spoke of a lot of money. His companion was taller and dressed in a nice suit, but was frail looking. There was no mistaking Raymond Wyatt, owner of The Olympus, but he’d had some ill health since his photograph was taken for the newspaper article.

Just as Starsky was going to ask about the two men, the larger man swaggered over to them.

“Well, now, are you three bein’ paid to sit on your asses in this… emergency type of situation, or are you guests in this hotel?” The words were said around a fat cigar and seemed to be more teasing than accusing.

Palmer rose quickly, pulling out his badge to present it politely. “Just in the middle of getting some information, sir. Can I help you?”

Starsky and Hutch both stood, just in case they needed to show their badges again.

“Well, now, son, that all depends. I’m not up on my police procedures, but my friend here,” he waved a chubby hand at his companion, “owns this place and would like a report. Would you happen to have someone in charge hanging around who could give him one?”

“Yes, sir, I think I can find someone who can give you the low down. Just a moment.” Winking at Starsky and Hutch, Palmer made his way back into the mass of people who were still crawling over the toy store.

“And you two would be?”

I might as well just pin this on, Starsky thought tiredly, pulling out his badge one more time. I have a feeling I’m going to be showing it all evening.

“Detectives Hutchinson and Starsky, on vacation from Bay City,” Hutch introduced them both. “We just happen to be in the area and are now waiting for a chance to give our statements.”

“Well, since you are outsiders to the area, so to speak, I shall stoop to introducing myself.” The brown eyes of the turquoise cowboy sparkled with amusement. “I am Harley Darnell Taylor, owner of Taylor’s Mine, the best casino in the area.” Throwing a smile at his companion he went on. “This here’s my friend, Raymond Wyatt, the poor soul that tries to make a livin’ outta this place. You wouldn’t happen to know–”

“Is it gone?” Raymond Wyatt asked, a haunted look on the frail face. “The Golden Peacock, did he get it?”

“Oh, no, sir,” Starsky said, giving the man a supportive smile. “It was found, safe and sound, before the thief could get it outside.”

Whatever Starsky had been expecting, the look of utter devastation that flashed across Wyatt’s face wasn’t it. For a second Starsky had the feeling the man was about to pass out, then he grabbed at Taylor’s arm and seemed to visibly collect himself.

“Y’all sure about that?” Taylor had moved to grab his friend’s elbow, his eyes on the other man’s face. “You wouldn’t be spreadin’ rumors now would you, boys?”

Starsky glanced at Hutch and could see that he was also confused. “No, sir. My partner and I saw it for ourselves just a few minutes ago.”

“But it can’t be!” Wyatt said softly, looking at Taylor as if in total disbelief. “He said he could get it out without…!”

“Hush, now, don’t let it worry you,” Taylor interrupted quickly, but soothingly.

“But I gave him enough money to…!”

“Raymond, snap outta it, boy!” Taylor’s words now were harsh and Starsky could see Wyatt look as if a fog were starting to clear. Taylor lowered his voice. “Don’t you worry about it none, you hear me? I’ll take care ‘a things, you just wait and see.”

Starsky watched as the man plastered a smile on his face seconds before he turned to him. “You boys gotta excuse my friend here, he’s not feelin’ well and the shock of all this is playin’ at his mind some.”

“I’m not crazy,” Wyatt muttered, pulling away from Taylor’s grip to walk toward the toy store, moving carefully, but with purpose.

“Well…you boys get back to your waitin’. Thanks for the information.”

Crossing his arms in thought, Starsky leaned against the wall, his eyes on the retreating pair.

“You catch that?” Hutch asked quietly, leaning in close.

“Sure did. Wyatt said he paid to have someone steal the Golden Peacock.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“And it sure looked like not having it disappear was a hard blow to take.”

They were both quiet for a moment, watching the two men as they were met by Palmer, the security guard, and a few other people they didn’t recognize. Starsky noticed that Wyatt didn’t seem to be paying much attention to what was being said, and that Taylor continued to do the talking.

“You think it was for the insurance?” Starsky asked quietly, eyes still on the pair.

“I don’t know, but if you ask me, if he’s having financial problems, the insurance on that piece of art isn’t going to make any dent in the cost of running this place. It was worth what? Half a million? Three quarters? I don’t think that would pay the light bill for a month.”

Starsky nodded. “Plus, you figure The Baron is going to get his cut out of it. Then add in all the money he was paying those hired thugs to make big noises about the bank heist. Not to mention all the gifts they’re going to have to give to all their hotel guests who are spending a big chunk of their evening outside.”

“That would definitely cut into any of the insurance proceeds.”

“And Harley Taylor seems to be in on it, too.”

“So, where does that leave us?” Hutch asked, eyes looking questioningly at Starsky.

Where does that leave us? Do we leave it and spend the rest of our time sightseeing, or do we stick our noses further into this mystery?

“I say we tip off Palmer and Smithson after all the paperwork gets done and see what they say.” He smiled at Hutch. “Guess I’m too much of a busybody to let it go.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

With that, they decided to walk into the fray and see what they could come up with.

 

 

Leaning against the headboard of the hotel bed, Hutch balanced his pizza slice over the paper plate–mindful that he had on his last clean shirt and they were due a laundry trip the next day. He had to admit that the pizza hit the spot, and if the way Starsky, Smithson, and Palmer were going at the rest of the slices in the box was any indication of things, he was going to have to be quick on the draw to get a second slice.

“Okay,” Starsky said, taking a sip of his beer, his paper plate of pizza balanced precariously in his other hand, “so Reighter is thrilled that you guys stopped the theft of the Golden Peacock, but is in the hot spot because he didn’t pass on your report to his boss.”

“That’s right,” Smithson said from his perch next to Palmer on the other bed. “He’s balancing on that tight-wire, hoping that since the theft was averted, it will make up for the fact that no one else knew about it in enough time to actually catch The Baron.”

“Which reminds me,” Palmer chimed in, “how did your captain take the news that you two were going to be hanging around for a few more days?”

“Well, he took it a lot better since it was Reighter who called him at home with the news rather than Starsky or me.”

“He had a few choice words for us, too,” Starsky added. “But Reighter buttered him up enough that it wasn’t as painful as it could have been.”

“He’s given us leave until Monday morning.” Hutch raised his glass of beer. “Here’s to happy captains!”

With a chorus of “Here, here!” they drank up.

Hutch was glad they had decided to go to their hotel room for dinner rather than go out. Between taking statements, giving statements, and repeating the process for the Feds, they hadn’t been able to have a private word with Smithson and Palmer all evening.

“Say,” Starsky said casually, “what can you guys tell us about those two casino owners, Wyatt and Taylor?”

The other two detectives ate silently for a moment, then Palmer took a swig of beer and shrugged. “I wasn’t surprised to see them at the scene today, if that’s what you’re asking. Those two old coots didn’t make their fortunes by keepin’ their noses outta other people’s business, so you can imagine what they’re like when somethin’ happens on their own property.”

“If they’re rivals, how come they were both there?” Hutch asked.

Oh, those two are only rivals because they’d be bored to death if they didn’t have each other to compete with,” Smithson said, finishing up his beer. “Those two have been good friends since they came to Reno, decades ago. Both came to this area, and got into the casino business, when they were in their mid-twenties. Hit it off at the time.”

“Yeah, those two are like magnets, they’re so opposite they attract each other,” Palmer laughed. “Word is that Taylor was one of those kids who started working when he was a kid, helpin’ the family business to survive. His parents died early and left him their store, somewhere in the south. After having a couple of really good years, he sold it off and came here–started buying up land downtown to build his own saloon. Did well enough that he added gambling a few years later. Was good at it, and had a real good head for business, so things just snowballed from there.”

“And Wyatt?” Starsky prompted.

“Oh, he’s a horse of another color,” Palmer added. “He was a rich kid, from a really wealthy family. Had the best of educations and a huge allowance from his father. Started out to be a lawyer, but found himself hating it. So, the story goes, he came out here, decided to stay and managed to sink a lot of money into a hotel before his family found out about it. Good ol’ Dad put his foot down and threatened to cut off the money if he didn’t go back home.”

“And hell if the old man cut the purse strings himself and stayed.” Smithson shook his head. “He’d managed to invest enough of his money in the hotel, which added gambling later, that he just stayed here and decided to match wits with Taylor. Those two have been hanging out together for years, yet at the same time, they’ll take any chance to get one over on the other one. Strange relationship.”

“So it wasn’t strange to see those two ol’ birds out scratchin’ around. Between the two of them they consider themselves the real leaders of all the casino business around here. One’s not going to stick around while the other gets ripped off.”

“That and the fact that Taylor used to own the Golden Peacock for quite a few years.”

“Wait! Taylor was the one who won the peacock in that poker game?” Starsky sounded surprised.

“And the one who lost it back to Wyatt years later. Who else would they bet the bird against? They’d only bring that thing out for a stake if they were bettin’ against each other. Wouldn’t do for a stranger to get hold of it.”

Well, this explains why they both were there, but why would they pay The Baron to steal it? Hutch wondered.

He nudged Starsky with his toe, asking silently if this was the right time to bring up what they had heard from Wyatt and Taylor.

Starsky nodded.

“Look we want to throw something by you guys and see if it flies. You interested?”

“Ha!” Palmer barked in laughter, giving Smithson a nudge. “They just got our asses kissed by Reighter and they want to know if we want more?” Palmer looked back over at Starsky, a grin on his face. “Well, hell no, son. We’re complete idiots.”

All four of them laughed good-naturedly. Starsky repeated what he and Hutch had seen in the hallway, and described the strange actions of Wyatt and Taylor.

The two Reno detectives continued to eat quietly, and Starsky could tell they were taking the information seriously.

Palmer, finishing his meal, stood up and threw his plate and empty bottle in the trash can, wiping off his hands.

“I’ve heard rumors,” Palmer said quietly, “that Wyatt isn’t well. He sure looked off his feed. Maybe this has something to do with his illness.”

“How ill?” Hutch asked.

“Don’t know the particulars, but I don’t think it’s something that tends to get better.” Palmer shrugged sadly.

“That would explain why Taylor was doing all the talking last night,” Smithson added. “Taylor was acting like a mother bear defending her cub when it came to finding out what had gone on. They usually spend all their time carping at each other, not protecting each other from the world. But if Wyatt’s not well….”

“But doesn’t he have a son the business is going to?” Starsky asked. “If he’s retiring and leaving the business to his son, why wasn’t his son there to take care of things?”

Smithson made a rude noise as he got up to clean up his leftovers. “All that kid is good at is spending the family money, it seems.”

“Sure enough, Aaron Wyatt has a colorful past.” Palmer said. “Kid’s got a juvenile record, and I can’t tell you how many times ol’ Wyatt bailed that kid out after he grew up. It’ll give you a clue when I tell you the son is in his mid-thirties, but he’s always been known as ‘The Kid’.”

“Is he around now?” Starsky asked. “You think he could be involved in all this?”

Both men seemed to think it over.

Palmer shrugged. “You got me. Anything’s possible at this point. I don’t have a clue where Wyatt’s kid is.”

“Neither do I,” Smithson said. “But I’ve got to call it a night, guys. Sorry to have to duck out on you again.”

“Oh, no problem,” Hutch said, getting up as the other two started to rise. “Thanks for coming.”

“Tell you guys what. You let us know where you end up tomorrow, hotel-wise, and we’ll see if we can keep our ears to the ground. If things aren’t kosher with Wyatt and Taylor, you know something will happen again. And thanks for the pizza.”

“You got it,” Starsky said as they walked the two to the door. “We’ve got your number.”

Starsky shut the door firmly behind them as Hutch gathered the rest of the trash. He waited to say anything until Starsky turned around. He could see his partner was deep in thought.

“I can’t figure out why the son would steal the Golden Peacock if he’s actually going to get control of the whole business,” Starsky said after a minute. “If the old man is ill, and leaving him the business, then wouldn’t the peacock come with the deal?

“I don’t know, Starsk,” Hutch admitted. “I think we’re missing a big piece of the puzzle. And who knows? Maybe what we heard has nothing to do with the peacock at all.”

“That’s true. But still, I got this feelin’….”

“And would that feeling have anything to do with… ” Hutch asked, walking close to Starsky, making sure to stand in his space. “…you, me and the fact that we’re still on vacation, in a room that’s paid up for the night?”

“Oh, babe,” Starsky said, a smile growing on his face. “How you do read my mind.”

Reaching up, stepping closer, Starsky cupped Hutch’s face in his hand. Deep blue eyes looked into his, and Hutch saw a variety of emotions in them, amusement, happiness, and love among them.

I’d die for those eyes.

Hutch leaned in, hands on Starsky’s waist, willing Starsky to kiss him.

As his face was pulled forward, his eyes closed, and Hutch first felt a light touch of lips on the tip of his nose, then his forehead as thumbs caressed his cheeks.

Hutch pulled him in closer, feeling the strong, hard body against him, needing the kiss.

When it came, it was soft and tentative, as if it were new to them.

“Guess it will always surprise me a little,” Starsky breathed. Hutch opened his eyes and saw the softness of love on Starsky’s face. “That we really have each other. Sometimes it feels like such a dream, when we’re at work and we’re acting and talking just like we used to.”

“We’ve not really changed,” Hutch said softly, placing a gentle kiss on Starsky’s lips. “Not where it counts. We just show it differently.”

“You think?” Starsky’s voice held amusement, but the next kiss was more serious than the last.

Their lips caressed and tasted each other, Hutch discovering the faint flavor of pizza, beer, and that flavor that could only be Starsky himself.

Hutch opened his lips and Starsky joined him, as they tasted and touched each other more intimately, tongues dancing and probing.

Breathless, they broke apart, Hutch leaning his forehead against Starsky’s. “I want you, tonight,” he whispered, feeling flushed and heady. “Want you inside and all around me.”

Face dark, lids hooded and eyes heavy with lust, Starsky kissed him again, pulling him even closer than they were before.

Hands roaming Starsky’s sides and back, Hutch could feel the hardness of Starsky’s cock through his clothing, feel the tenseness of his muscles as they kissed.

Hutch pushed beneath the end of Starsky’s shirt to the warm, soft skin underneath–feeling the soft curves, hard bone, and rounded muscle in a random pattern of discovery. He drank in the taste of his lover, the feel of him, solid and hot in his arms. He marveled at how the manly shapes, taste, and scent of Starsky–such a masculine figure–could call out the male in Hutch himself. Holding Starsky, feeling their similarities and their differences, always seemed to inflame something inside him, making Hutch hungry to meet and match his lover’s intensity.

Sometimes, like now, he wanted to be covered by it, to be swallowed whole by Starsky and become a part of him. To be loved, cherished, protected and a part of something bigger than just himself.

Waves of heat flowed through him, coming from the delightful burning in his groin and chest–and Starsky feeling even hotter against his skin.

Hutch pulled at clothing, their mouths devouring each other, then pulling apart only to meet again noisily, almost bruisingly.

Starsky’s hands were all over him now, tugging at his clothing, opening his shirt and pushing it over his shoulders.

“On the bed,” Starsky said as his mouth left Hutch’s. He sounded strained, eager, his eyes roaming Hutch as if he could devour him. “Let me undress you.”

Reluctant to let go of him, Hutch stepped back, watching Starsky as he undid the last buttons on his shirt and pulled it off. He stood still as Starsky ran light fingertips down both sides of his neck, then traced his collar bones, the finger of one hand tracing the fading scars Hutch carried from a shooting years ago. Then the fingertips became palms and splayed fingers, the touch firmer and bolder. Hutch closed his eyes, the vision of Starsky’s lusty, engrossed expression burned into his mind. He relaxed, leaning into the touch that was both exploration and massage.

Starsky’s hands reached his pants. Hutch knew they were bulging with his straining erection. He sighed when his pants were opened and he was given more freedom. His cock and balls were heavy between his legs, begging for attention and eager for Starsky’s touch. Hutch stepped out of his pants as Starsky pushed them to the ground.

Hutch reached out and sank his fingers into the riot of curls on the lowered head, loving the feel and the textures, so different from his own. He tugged the curls gently, wanting Starsky’s mouth and his turn at disrobing him. As Starsky came up he licked Hutch’s now completely hard cock, making Hutch hiss in appreciation of the sensation.

Hutch took Starsky’s mouth again once he rose, pushing himself against Starsky’s erection, feeling delightfully free and erotic with his nudity against Starsky’s fully clothed body. Pulling away again, he knew he was leering as he undid Starsky’s shirt, pulling it over his head. Squatting, he looked up and met Starsky’s eyes just before he growled loudly and dug his nose into Starsky’s crotch, accosting the taut fabric and making him gasp and laugh at the same time.

Undoing the zipper and button, he pulled the pants down slowly, watching as Starsky’s rose-colored cock jumped to attention in front of him. Ignoring it for a moment, he nuzzled in closer to Starsky’s balls, nosing in through the musky, thick hair to the soft sac underneath.

Hands on Starsky’s hips, Hutch could feel the heat flow from Starsky’s body, the clench of muscles in his thighs and buttocks. Tongue and lips touching velvety, rippled skin, Hutch found a testicle and sucked it in, wetly rolling it in his mouth as Starsky gasped loudly. Hutch felt the fingers in his hair grip tightly and the gasp turn into a low moan. Hutch turned to the other testicle, giving it the same treatment.

After a few minutes Starsky pushed gently on his forehead, letting him know it was time for something else.

“Lie down with me, Hutch.” The plea was whispered, earnest and excited. “I wanna make you feel good.”

As Hutch rose, Starsky kissed him then moved to the bed to pull off the top sheets. Starsky motioned for him to lie on his back, and Hutch did so. He watched curiously as Starsky walked into the bathroom area, and returned with the small ice bucket that came with the room. Placing it within easy reach on the nightstand, he smiled at Hutch, who shivered at the thought of what Starsky might have planned for him.

Straddling him, Starsky ignored his cock, casting a lecherous eye across Hutch’s supine body.

“I’ve caught you, and you’re now in my power,” Starsky’s voice was deep and sultry. He moved Hutch’s right arm above his head, turned Hutch’s palm so he could grip the sheet, repeating it with the other arm. “I have you tied up, helpless. I can do anything I want with you. I am going to keep you in my power forever.”

Yes! Hutch thought, delightful chills running up his spine at the look in Starsky’s eyes and the sound of his voice. That’s what I want!

He didn’t say the words, not knowing if Starsky wanted him to talk or not.

Starsky watched him a moment, nothing moving but his eyes, the strong body towering above Hutch. Then Starsky leaned forward, his cock rubbing against Hutch’s stomach and body hair caressing him in a thousand places. He gently took a bit of skin at the crook of Hutch’s neck between his teeth.

Hutch froze, feeling the sharp edge of teeth on skin, his neck tingling at the site. Then Starsky licked it, humming under his breath. The act was repeated on the other side, making Hutch’s breathing grow rapid as he gripped the sheets harder.

Grinning, Starsky reached over to the ice bucket, taking off the lid and fishing out a piece of ice. Starsky put it in his mouth, reaching down to rub cold fingers over the center of Hutch’s chest.

Hutch shivered and watched Starsky intently as he sucked on the ice cube. Starsky smiled then bent over, and with his hands on Hutch’s shoulders, he touched the tip of his cold tongue to the hollow of Hutch’s throat.

Hutch gasped at the sensation, the cold creating chills that warred for attention on nerves that were already excited by the touch of Starsky’s body.

The mouth on Hutch kept moving, following a cold trail down the center of his chest, to lap at his breastbone, and trail lazily from under one pectoral muscle to the other.

Hutch kept hold of the sheets, panting, trying to control his reactions to the attention Starsky was giving him. He wanted to move, to squirm under the icy tongue, his body enjoying it, yet seeking to escape it at the same time.

When Starsky moved to suck a nipple into the cool mouth, Hutch bucked and moaned, causing Starsky to push harder on his shoulders. The nipple burned like fire, sending signals down to Hutch’s cock and balls making them throb. Leaving the nipple, Starsky rubbed it soothingly as he sucked in the other one.

Hutch couldn’t help but try to move, to squirm out from under the frosty torture. Starsky quickly backed off to the center of Hutch’s chest, where his heart was thudding from his body’s reactions.

Starsky moved down Hutch’s abdomen, leaving a cold, wet trail on Hutch’s skin. As he got down to the limit of his reach, Starsky sat up, winking at him as he chewed the last of the ice in his mouth.

Hutch watched, eyes wide, as Starsky reached for another ice cube, then moved farther down the bed, pulling Hutch’s legs apart.

As Starsky lowered his head toward Hutch’s genitals Hutch closed his eyes, giving total concentration to what his body was telling him.

He felt Starsky’s breath on his cock before the delicate, arctic touch at the base. Hutch found himself panting, his cock growing harder as he warred between the heat of his lust and the cold of the caress. His cock felt impossibly hard now, and as the cold mouth worked its way up, Hutch tensed even more.

“Starsk!” Hutch yelled and bucked as the cold mouth enveloped him, the sensation shocking him, yet feeling good at the same time.

Starsky was up in an instant, mouth-to-mouth, sharing the last of the melting ice, Starsky’s body pushing him back down. The heat of the body on top of him erased the lingering traces of coolness, the cock rubbing against his making his own cock relax and expand once again.

“You’re branded now,” Starsky said after pulling away and leaving the last trace of ice in Hutch’s mouth. His smile was sultry, his eyes deadly. “You’re almost all mine.”

“Almost?” Hutch squeaked out, finding himself eager to finish what Starsky had started.

Starsky’s eyes bored into him, held him, before he moved to whisper in Hutch’s ear.

“Show me how you want me. Show me how to please you so that you’ll be mine, so that only I can give you what you want.”

Starsky moved off of him, on his knees at the end of the bed. Waiting on Hutch’s will.

He was beautiful, the dark hair framing the face of a sometimes devil, sometimes imp, with blue eyes of a color that seemed almost impossible to be true. The dusting of dark hair accentuating thick thighs, strong muscles and generous genitals. He was what Hutch needed. Without him, Hutch felt cold and alone.

Cold and alone. How he hated that feeling.

“Need you always,” Hutch whispered, reaching up to splay his fingers on Starsky’s chest. “I need you inside me, taking me, covering me and keeping me safe. I want to see you.”

Moving his hand, Hutch reached for the lube that was on the nightstand, wrapping it in Starsky’s fingers.

Reaching around, Hutch moved a pillow farther down on the bed. Pulling Starsky with him. A pillow now under his hips, Hutch kissed Starsky as they fell, spreading his legs to wrap them around Starsky and keep him close.

The kiss lasted until they were both breathless. Starsky pulled away and opened the lube, spreading it generously on his cock, eyes dark and face flushed as he watched Hutch who was spreading himself wider, moving the pillow so he would be as exposed as possible.

As a lubed finger entered him Starsky bent to nip and lick at a buttock. Hutch groaned as the finger searched deep within him, Starsky biting this time, just hard enough to leave a real mark.

As two fingers moved within him, opening him up, Hutch sighed; eyes closed as he blanked his mind of all but the sensations that were working their way through him. As Starsky hit his prostate, sparks flew through his gut. He moaned, pulling his legs wider apart.

Then there were three fingers inside him, pulling and stretching. They were soon gone, and Hutch looked up to see Starsky moved into place, one hand at the base of his large cock, the other bracing him against the bed. Hutch felt lost without the fingers, needed the emptiness filled.

“Do it, Starsk! I need to feel you, now!”

Starsky pushed and Hutch gasped, as the head of his cock stretched him then slipped inside. And as he took a breath, tried to relax, he found himself impatient for the rest.

“More…give me the rest!”

The slide of Starsky’s cock head opened the rest of him, filling him smoothly, carefully. Starsky watched his face for any sign of pain. He stopped as Hutch felt the curly hairs and weight of Starsky’s sac rest flush against his ass.

It was a tight fit, his insides suddenly anxious at the girth and breadth of the intruder. Muscles twitched nervously and Hutch fought the first instinct to force it out. Breathing deeply, he relaxed, moaning as strong fingers, still slick from their probing, pulled at his cock, forcing his attention back to that tight and throbbing organ.

He felt himself relax, tissues going pliable and the tense feeling turning into a pleasurable fullness. Then slowly, building up speed, Starsky started thrusting, timing them to match the strokes on Hutch’s cock.

It filled his mind, the touches and movements that alternately filled him and retreated. Hutch floated on the sensations, feeling the exquisite tension that flowed from his cock and balls as Starsky played him like an instrument, knowing just how to touch him, just when to fill him and make his body sing.

It went on forever and he never wanted it to end, but his cock had other ideas. At some unknown signal, Starsky changed his angle, quickened his pace, rubbing his prostate and sending flares through him, the fingers on his cock grew firmer, more insistent.

It was wonderful, and it sent him spinning. Opening his eyes, he watched as Starsky worked on him, his eyes dark and his face flushed, and as their eyes met Starsky smiled a predatory smile.

“Show me your love, Hutch,” the thick, ragged voice ordered him, pumping his cock faster and thrusting harder. “Give it to me…show it to me….”

Hutch was crazy with it, sensations pulling him in multiple directions, all of them dragging and pushing muscles and nerves that throbbed and screamed for their goal. He could feel the final pressures build up inside, push at him for release as his cock throbbed and expanded. In one delicious thrust, one slide of tight fingers over the length of his cock, the sensations collided and exploded, making his head ring and the room spin as his body took control and spasmed its completion.

As wonderful waves of pleasure flooded through him, Hutch could feel Starsky milking him–matching the pushing and throbbing sensation that forced his cum from him. He was talking to Starsky, begging him to come as well, to fill him with his seed, to mark him as his–inside and out.

Through the wild pounding of his own heart and the slowing of the waves of pleasure, Hutch heard Starsky gasp, releasing his cock. Opening lazy eyes, Hutch watched and felt as Starsky pounded into him, his face a grimace of determination and need, the slap of their bodies echoed in the friction and pressure Hutch felt from within. It was good to be needed this badly, to know that he could provide his lover with the place and the opportunity for love and lust.

As Starsky grew more frantic, the tension of climax straining his features and coloring his skin with a deep flush and a sheen of perspiration, Hutch found himself memorizing the look, drinking it in, owning it as his prize.

Suddenly Starsky froze, buried in Hutch up to the hilt, the tension in the beloved features flowed out, leaving utter peace and pleasure on Starsky’s face as his body tensed and relaxed with the flow of his climax. Eyes closed, Starsky moaned, long and ragged, as he came deeply within Hutch.

He’s so beautiful, so gorgeous, Hutch thought, sighing as he felt the pulse of Starsky’s climax within him, the slow rocking as Starsky rode him with the pulse of his pleasure. I will never see him like this enough. This Starsky is mine, his beauty is mine. Who could not want him? Who could not need him?

When he finally opened his eyes, Starsky looked like he was floating on the same cloud he was, both of them at that same, quiet and peaceful place where there was only their love and pleasure. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment before both moved to come together for a kiss that was sweet and tender, breathing satisfied sighs into each other’s mouths.

Starsky then pulled out carefully, and before he could do more than fall to the side Hutch was up, moving carefully to the bathroom. He cleaned himself up, then brought a warm cloth to wash Starsky, throwing it into the bathroom and turning off the lamp. Before using the last of his strength to collapse next to Starsky, he found the discarded sheets and pulled them up around them both.

Starsky, wrapping himself around Hutch, and nestling under the sheet to pillow is head on Hutch’s shoulder, kissed Hutch’s neck gently.

“G’night, love.”

“Sweet dreams, baby,” Hutch replied around a yawn, the beauty of Starsky’s completion still in his mind–and his heart–as he drifted off.

 

 

Saturday morning arrived bright and early, which was too much of both for Starsky’s tastes. He reached over to turn off the hotel room’s annoying alarm, wiping at his eyes to try to focus on the dials. It was six o’clock already. Starsky felt like ignoring the sunlight and alarm and pretending it was midnight once again

Man, time flies when you need sleep. But if we’re going to be on time….

They had to be at the police department at eight. Since check-out was at noon, and they weren’t sure where they’d be by then, they had decided to check out before they left, pack their bags in the car and wait and see where they ended up for the evening. Reighter had made noises about getting them a room for Saturday night in exchange for having them stay over to give statements, but there was no surety of that happening. They had to do some laundry as well.

Geez, this isn’t much better than being at home.

As the bed shifted, a long arm came over his ribs and pulled him backward into a solid, warm body.

“G’dm’nin'” came the sleep slurred voice from just behind his ear, the scratch of an unshaved chin at the crook of his neck.

Ah, well, it has all the amenities. Can’t complain about that.

Taking the long-fingered hand from his chest, he kissed the palm. “Time to get up, Hutch. We’ve got a full day to get started.”

Hutch took a nip of his shoulder, making Starsky start, then turn and push the head away with a laugh. “Hey! You’re the morning person, remember? No biting before lunch!”

“Sure, now you tell me the rules,” Hutch groused. He stretched, his long limbs threatening to take over the bed. “You shower first and I’ll lay here and recover from last night.”

Starsky sat up, stretching his arms and back, a yawn almost threatening to pop his jaw. Climbing out of the bed, he headed for the shower.

“You don’t want to join me?”

Hutch opened one eye and snorted. “No way. I know what kind of evilness you have in mind.” He waved one hand lazily toward the shower. “After last night I don’t know if I can even walk, yet there you go, getting lecherous again. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“You’re no fun,” Starsky griped as he headed for the shower. “After all, I did all the work!”

 

 

It was almost one in the afternoon before they could once again call their time their own. They had breakfast, checked out of the hotel, gave their statements to a couple of unhappy Federal Agents, called Dobey to check in, and even stopped by a laundromat.

They even found that Reighter had kept his word, and they had reservations at a hotel at the other end of the strip. It wasn’t much better than the hotel they had just left, and they had been given separate rooms, but the Reno PD had also thrown in plane tickets home for Sunday night. Starsky figured he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. At least, he told himself he wasn’t.

He must have let some of his disappointment show on his face, because as he was unpacking in his room, Hutch came up behind him, wrapping those long arms around Starsky’s waist.

“You’ve been awful quiet today,” Hutch said softly, giving him a squeeze. “You feeling okay?”

“Sure,” Starsky said, realizing Hutch was right and he wasn’t quite up to par. “Guess I’m just a bit disappointed that we couldn’t’ve spent our time in nicer places than this. I liked it better with us sharing a room.”

“Any place with you in it, lover, is fine by me. We don’t have to use both rooms, you know. And I know this isn’t the vacation you planned on, but when it comes to following our gut feelings,” one hand patted Starsky’s stomach, “we’ve got to go with it. I don’t see us changing that any time soon.”

Starsky smiled, feeling a bit better. Sometimes he wished he could win a lottery ticket so he could treat Hutch the way he wanted to treat him. And he had to admit this vacation wasn’t exactly what he had planned on when he wanted to get him and Hutch away from police work.

“Okay, enough pep talk,” Starsky announced, giving the encircling arms a pat. “If we’re going to do this, let’s get it done.” He moved toward the bed and sat down. “The Baron tries to steal the Golden Peacock, but doesn’t get out the front door with it.”

“Its owner acts upset because it wasn’t stolen,” Hutch added. “He’s not well, is retiring, and is leaving the business to his son.”

“So, if it was something The Baron was after, for his own collection or to sell, is he going to give up so easily?”

“I don’t know,” Hutch admitted. “But I’d sure like to find out. I’ve got that–”

“Gut feeling.” Starsky nodded, smiling dangerously. “Okay, Hutch, if we’re involved in this, let’s do it right.”

“Where to first?”

“Might as well go to the horse’s mouth, don’t you think? Why don’t we see if we can track down Raymond Wyatt and see if he’s got a secret to hide?”

“Time to play poker?” Hutch asked smiling wickedly.

“Time to bluff, that’s for sure,” Starsky said, a huge smile taking over his face. “Let’s go.”

 

 

The Olympus was back in business, and from what Hutch could tell, nothing looked as if it had suffered from the night before. The gaming tables were full of visitors, and the desk that handled the hotel registrations was busy with people checking in and out. Even the window to the toy store had been replaced, although the store was closed. Hutch noticed the lack of a “police line” across the door.

I guess if you have money you can take care of all those little, intrusive and ugly police warnings, Hutch thought. After all, it might slow down business if the patrons thought an actual crime had almost been committed here.

It had not escaped him and Starsky that the report of the incident in the paper had played down the event to a “smoking burner” in the kitchen that gave off enough smoke to clog up the air-conditioning system, thereby causing the smoke and confusion of the night before. They had read the paper over lunch, amazed at how such a work of fiction could be accomplished in Reno, where it would have been almost impossible in Bay City. Hutch wondered if the newspapers played along for their own purposes, or for those of the PD or the casino owner.

So far it looks like the casinos had more governmental and private pull than I thought they did.

It took them a while to find the main office, and, as Hutch should have guessed, it was upstairs on the highest floor of the hotel. As they arrived at the top floor, they discovered a large room with a receptionist, who announced her welcome and told them that she would be glad to help them. That is, until they said that they wanted to talk to Raymond Wyatt. Then the receptionist smiled politely, called on her phone and reported their arrival, then, nicely, refused to say anything more beyond asking them to have a seat.

A moment later, a well-dressed, middle-aged woman with graceful bearing came through a large, impressive door to the right of the receptionist. They conferred for a moment, and then the new arrival turned and came toward them.

“Gentlemen, I am Mrs. Margaret Wrenworth–Mr. Wyatt’s private secretary. I’m told you wish to speak to him?”

“Yes, ma’am, we do,” Hutch replied, using his best business smile. “We’re police officers and we would like to go over a few details of last night’s incident with him.”

Her eyes narrowing behind her fashionable eyeglasses, she looked them over, visually inspecting the best of their vacation wear.

“May I see your badges, please?”

Hutch tried not to wince as he reached for his badge. They had both hoped that she wouldn’t ask for them, it being clear from their ID that they weren’t in their own jurisdiction.

“Actually, ma’am, we’re from Bay City,” Starsky admitted quickly as he passed his ID over. “We’re not actually here on official business, but on a personal matter.”

“And that would be?” Mrs. Wrenworth pursed her lips as she looked over both badges.

“Well, uh…it’s really a private matter, if you don’t mind,” Hutch said with a smile as he took back his badge.

“If he were expecting you he would have told me,” she said sharply. “I don’t think–”

“This is very important,” Starsky insisted. “Could you at least let him know we’re here? Just tell him….” Starsky looked at Hutch for help.

“Tell him that we’re the two officers he and Mr. Taylor met in the hallway, right after the robbery attempt. Tell him we are here to ask him about the very interesting comments he made about the Golden Peacock and the money he recently spent on its pending relocation.”

Mrs. Wrenworth studied them both for a moment, then nodded. “Very well, I will inform him of your arrival.”

As soon as she turned around to leave, Hutch looked at Starsky, Starsky looked at Hutch, and both gave a small sigh.

They wandered around the reception room, neither one taking the opportunity to sit in the expensive leather chairs or flip through the business magazines that littered the tables next to them. Instead, Hutch went to look at the artwork on the walls, which was all original, though not done by anyone he recognized. Starsky strolled over to the wall that was mostly window, taking in the view. Hutch joined him after a moment.

He had to admit that the view of the forest-covered mountains on this side of the valley was breathtaking. It reminded him of all the ski resorts in and around Tahoe that he and Starsky had visited with various girlfriends over the years. There were still plenty of resorts they had yet to explore up in those beautiful mountains.

Something to look forward to this next winter.

“Gentlemen,” Mrs. Wrenworth said as she came through the doors again. “Please come to my office.”

As they followed her down the hallway, Hutch wondered why they weren’t going to be taken right to Wyatt.

“Since you are not from this area,” Mrs. Wrenworth began, as she seated herself behind a large, well-ordered desk, “I will assume that you do not know that Mr. Wyatt, Mr. Raymond Wyatt, is very ill and is retired. He very rarely comes into the casino anymore, no longer having any business duties to attend to.”

She began to write on a piece of paper. “Because you have insisted that this is important, I have taken the liberty of calling him at home and telling him of your wish to speak with him. He has agreed to see you. This is his address.”

Starsky took the paper, nodding his head politely and gracing her with one of his mega-watt smiles. “Thank, you, ma’am. We do appreciate it.”

“May I say something, privately?” Mrs. Wrenworth asked softly. “Please?”

“Sure,” Hutch assured her. “Unless this is something you think the local police need to know.”

“No, nothing like that, it’s just…well…Mr. Wyatt has been my employer for many years, and he is not well. His son–and this illness–have forced him out of everything he has ever worked for, everything that kept him going these last few years. I’d appreciate it if you would keep that in mind when you see him. It’s a very hurtful subject for him to talk about.”

“Thank you for telling us this, but may I ask a question?” Hutch asked.

“Certainly, though I may not be able to answer it.”

“You said that Mr. Wyatt is retired and was forced out. Does that mean that he’s not the owner of The Olympus anymore?”

Hutch could see anger grow in the secretary’s eyes, but didn’t believe it was toward him and Starsky.

“Raymond Wyatt still owns the majority of stock in the company. But because of his health, his son, Aaron Wyatt, has won power of attorney over his father’s affairs from the court. He has become the new head of the Board of Directors and has forced his father out of the business and called it ‘retirement.’ This is all public knowledge.”

“Thank you,” Hutch said. “We’ll be as tactful as we can, we would just like to ask a few questions.”

“I would appreciate that very much.”

With a nod of thanks they took their leave.

 

 

The drive to Raymond Wyatt’s house took them up a scenic road that wound up the forest-covered mountainside. There, high above the city, was a two-level, all wood house with huge windows at the front. It looked like a ski lodge, just not quite as big.

“What a view he must have of the city!” Starsky said in admiration, as he pulled up into the circular driveway. “You can see the whole valley from here. Bet it looks like Christmas every night.”

“Maybe,” Hutch said distractedly, looking carefully around the area. “But I’d rather see Lake Tahoe than a city full of people. You notice any security?”

“Nope. Guess he figures he doesn’t need anything but home alarms out here. He should be expecting us anyway. And it looks like he has company.”

There were three cars already in the driveway.

They parked their car and headed up the wooden steps. Hutch pushed the doorbell as Starsky tried to see inside through the windows bordering the doorway. He nodded to Hutch when he saw movement.

A tall, brown-haired man in a light blue summer suit opened the door. “Hello, gentlemen. May I see your badges?”

After checking them quickly, the man handed them back and smiled. “Come this way, please.”

Following the man in, Starsky was impressed with what looked to be professional, handcrafted woodwork throughout the various rooms they passed. There was one large room at the front that had two levels with huge windows that took up the entire fourth wall. The furnishings, which Starsky presumed were expensive, were comfortable looking, as if the whole house were a spot where you could go for quiet and relaxation.

Or to die, Starsky mused sadly. I guess if you can pass on in a place you’re comfortable in, then all you need is your family around you. Worse ways to go, that’s for sure.

The man led them to a back hallway and to a large room at the back.

The man said something to someone in the room, an answer was given, and the man waved them inside.

“Well, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” Harley Taylor asked loudly. “Welcome boys, and Joe?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You can go on home now.”

Their guide looked into the room, then seemed to get some confirmation because he nodded. “I’ll be back the same time tomorrow. See you two tomorrow!”

Joe turned and left, nodding to the two guests with a smile.

The first thing Starsky saw was Harley Taylor, who was standing at a fireplace, a drink in his hand. As Starsky entered the doorway, he realized that this was a large library. Every part of the building in this room was done in wood, the warm colors of the timber and boards meshing with the rows and rows of books on the walls. It would have been a warm and cozy room except for the strange looking addition of a hospital bed and nightstand on the other side of the room.

But it was actually the man in the hospital bed who looked out of place. Raymond Wyatt, in pajamas, a robe and slippers reclined on the bed, which had been propped up to a sitting position.

“Welcome, gentlemen!” He said, a glass of liquor in his hand that matched Taylor’s. “I have been looking forward to this meeting ever since my secretary called. I must say your calling me was unexpected, but I believe that your visit will work out well. Things always seem to happen for a reason.”

“Don’t listen to the old coot,” Taylor said, looking unhappy as he gazed into his drink, swirling it as if he had no real interest in it. “He’s farther off his rocker than usual. Always been damn crazy.”

“And you’ve always been along for the ride, Harley. Don’t deny it, there have been too many witnesses over the years. Besides, who’s the bigger fool, the fool–”

“Or the fool who follows him.” Taylor laughed suddenly, affection filling his face as he looked at his friend. “Okay, you can play your game for a while. Would you gentlemen like a drink?”

Surprised by the question, Starsky looked at Hutch to see what he would say. Hutch didn’t look like he wanted one either. They chorused “no” in reply.

“Mr. Wyatt, my partner, Detective Starsky, is here with me to ask you some questions.”

“Not officially,” Starsky added, wanting to keep the atmosphere pleasant. “It’s just that because we’re cops–”

“Who are naturally nosy and hear things they shouldn’t,” Taylor interjected, a crooked smile taking the edge off his words. “I told Raymond he was a damn fool for falling apart like that in the hallway.”

“We did our own bit of research,” Wyatt added, a bit hoarse after the sip from his drink, his hands shaking slightly. “Harley and I do have our friends here and there. Found out you two are due back from your vacation pretty soon, aren’t you?”

Hutch looked at Starsky, amused patience on his face.

And here I thought we were going to run the show, Starsky thought back at him.

“Yes, sir, we are.” Hutch walked toward the bed, and Starsky followed him. He could feel Taylor watching them both closely. “You know what we’re here to ask, don’t you?”

Taylor, still at the fireplace behind them, grunted with what sounded like unhappiness, but didn’t say anything.

“Why don’t you two have a drink, a small one if you will, pull up those chairs and I’ll tell you a story. I’m asking this as a favor, so please remember it’s only polite to humor an old man.”

Starsky caught Hutch’s eye and shrugged; he didn’t think they were going to be poisoned, and they could just as well hold the drinks as not.

They both agreed and accepted a straight bourbon, it being the first thing offered. Taylor poured the drinks as Starsky and Hutch pulled up a couple of well-padded, leather chairs close to the bed so the sick man wouldn’t have to speak loudly.

After they had settled and he refilled his own glass, Taylor went back to hanging off of the fireplace.

“Many years ago,” Wyatt started, weak, watery eyes on them both, “I was a young man with a lot of money. I didn’t want to live off my parent’s money, nor did I want to be a lawyer, which was the education that they bought and paid for. One day, I came to Reno to spend some time by myself, getting to know my own mind, when I met this idiot over there.” He smiled in Taylor’s direction.

“Back then, Reno was a pit stop on the way to other places. ‘Anywhere but here’ was its motto. There was gambling back then, had been for years, but it was a hit-and-miss business. I found that Taylor was here to stake out a plot and build something that was going to bring people into the area. Back then it was only drunken bragging on his part, since he hadn’t even gotten the land yet, but there was something to the idea that told me if this total idiot could do it, so could I.”

“I told you,” Taylor said quietly from his side of the room.

“If you’d had any sense you should have bet on it, if you’d been that sure,” Wyatt responded with a laugh. “Anyway, long story short, I decided that I wanted to do the same thing, start a business from scratch and rub his stubby, red-necked nose in it. So I took my family allowance and did just that.”

“How come you two didn’t go in and open a place together?” Starsky asked, looking from one man to the other.

“Oh, hell,” Taylor said with a snort. “Us two…? Get our heads together on any one thing? Nah, we’re both too stubborn for that. If we were partners we would’ve argued ourselves out of business, but as rivals we could give each other a greatly needed kick in the ass once in awhile.”

“So we did that, Taylor and I. Did a damn good job, too, even if we never made it down to Las Vegas.”

“Haven’t made it yet you mean!”

“Along the way, I met and married the most beautiful woman,” Wyatt stopped then, his voice getting shaky. He wiped his eyes with a tissue. “Her name was Martha, and she was my heart and soul. We were married for many years and shared the good and bad times. When The Olympus hit its ten million dollar mark in revenue, I had a special present made for her as a birthday surprise. Since we’d chosen the lofty name of ‘The Olympus’ for the casino, I was known as ‘Zeus’ and she was ‘Hera,’ the sister and wife of Zeus, the ruler of the gods. Since the sacred symbol of Hera was a peacock, and my wife actually was quite fond of them, I commissioned a golden statue to be made for her. When I presented it to her….”

Wyatt’s voice faltered again, and he held the tissue up to his eyes.

“She was a hell of a lady,” Taylor muttered, eyes on his boots.

Wyatt took a breath and wiped at his face. “She died a few years later and was cremated. Her ashes are in the vault at the cemetery at the end of town. I foolishly remarried, trying to heal the wound, and had a son. Aaron unfortunately has taken after his mother, who only saw my money. Sarah would brag about how she was the new queen of The Olympus. She was very jealous of my first wife’s memory. After a few years, I saw the writing on the wall and prepared to divorce her.”

“So you lost the Golden Peacock to Mr. Taylor, so she couldn’t touch it in the divorce proceedings,” Hutch said softly.

“Smart boys,” Taylor said, nodding at them. “Then the son-of-a-bitch turns around and marries again. Only this time I refused to give it back. Never had a good head on his shoulders.”

“And for that I thank you,” Wyatt said, his eyes still wet from his distant loss. “Barbara was a good lady, but we just weren’t meant to be together forever. We did last quite a few years, though, before I divorced again.”

“After your second divorce, Taylor lost it back to you,” Starsky added, remembering the details from the newspaper articles.

“Yes. After the second time, I vowed never to wed again. I would never find Martha here on Earth, so it was time to quit trying. I then made a promise to her that she would get her beloved peacock back, and that someday hers and my ashes would be mixed in death. Her peacock would be our companion.”

“But we waited too damn long,” Taylor said roughly, his own voice sounding close to tears. “We thought we still had plenty of years, but Raymond’s illness hit so fast–”

“And my son had already taken over so many things behind my back.”

“Why can’t your wishes be carried out?” Hutch asked, his face showing his puzzlement. “Wouldn’t–”

“For insurance purposes, the Golden Peacock is a fixture of the casino, which my son has just taken over. He wants it to give to his mother,” Raymond said bitterly. “Sarah will never let it go once it’s officially hers.”

“But if it disappeared, before your death, it would be considered a loss,” Starsky said, feeling the other three men’s eyes on him. He felt a weight grow on his shoulders as he worked the rest of the puzzle out. “What better way to have it disappear forever than to have a famous, and uncaught, thief take it right out from under everyone’s noses. No one would ever think of desecrating your burial spot looking for it. It would be long gone.”

The silence in the room was heavy then, and Starsky could feel guilt wash over him at what he and Hutch had interfered with. How could he not understand the love and longing behind the promise Wyatt had made to his deceased love?

Now I wish we had stayed out of it. He only wanted it back for her.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, knowing it wouldn’t help.

“We didn’t know,” Hutch murmured, looking sadly into his own untouched glass. “If we had–”

“If you had, you would have let The Baron walk away with it?” Wyatt asked, sounding very tired and old.

“It was yours to begin with, and your wife should have it back,” Starsky answered for them both. “I think that’s a private matter we wouldn’t choose to interfere with.”

All four were silent for a moment, then Wyatt sighed. To Starsky he looked as if he were a man who had reached the end of his road and was too tired to take another step. It made his gut clench to know that he and Hutch had made that road a bit harder for him.

“Don’t worry about it; I know you two are good boys. You’ve always done your best, and that’s all life can ask of you. If there were anything to forgive, I would forgive you. But it was the luck of the draw, my friends. It would either work or it wouldn’t. But I do have a bit of good news, and I’m glad you’re here to share it with Harley.”

He sat up then, and both he and Hutch moved to help him, but was waved off.

“What time is it, Harley?”

The portly man checked his watch. “Comin’ on four-thirty, Ray. You got somewhere to go?” The tone was soft and teasing.

“Actually, I should have a surprise for you three, if a certain something has arrived at its specified time. And I have no doubts that it has been delivered as promised.”

“Maybe we should be going, sir,” Hutch said. “I think we’ve–”

“No, no,” Wyatt said quickly, a smile on his face. “It is important that you stay. Harley’ll need witnesses. Now that you are here we should use your presence to full advantage.”

“You done gone completely round the bend, you old coot.” Taylor shook his head.

“Harley, you take these two outside to the back patio and look under the picnic table. I think you’re going to be really surprised for once, old man.”

“Ray–”

“Harley! Go forth and stop being an ass.”

After a small staring match between the two, Taylor gave a dramatic sigh and nodded toward the door. “C’mon, you two. He’s impossible. Might as well humor him.”

The three of them left Wyatt on the bed and made their way to the back of the house, through a kitchen large enough to hold Starsky’s whole apartment. Once out the back door, they followed a small trail through the woods until they came to a clearing. A small grill was set into the ground and a well-used picnic table sat in the middle of it.

Starsky looked at Hutch, both of them exchanging looks of surprise and speculation. Underneath the picnic table was a very large metal suitcase.

Taylor stopped cold, looking at the two of them as if this must be a joke. He signaled for them to retrieve it for him.

The first thing Starsky noticed was how heavy it was. Hutch helped him pull it from under the table and they placed it on top. Both stepped back from it.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Taylor swore happily. “That damn thief he hired really did pull it off!”

Fumbling with the latches, Taylor finally got them undone, flipping open the top.

Starsky felt shocked, almost numb. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours he stood looking at the golden bird.

“I don’t understand,” Hutch muttered, looking at Starsky with disbelief in his eyes. “How could he have gotten it back?”

“Oh, hell, that other one musta been a copy!” Taylor crowed, laughter in his eyes. “I know Raymond paid the man enough to make a copy or two.” Taylor leaned down, pointed to a small scratch mark on the underside of one delicate foot. “See? I scratched that in there years ago. Didn’t think to check the one that was found in the toy store.”

They heard it then–a sharp, muted crack that chilled Starsky’s blood. Leaving the statue where they found it, Starsky and Hutch took off back toward the house.

As they ran through the house, Starsky knew what they would find.

When they got to the bedroom door they both stopped short.

“Ah, shit, Hutch,” Starsky said sadly.

“Don’t let him in,” Hutch ordered, his voice ragged and low.

Starsky knew Hutch would check to make sure, even though it was clear from the doorway that Wyatt was gone. He turned and carefully grabbed the elderly man who was determined to push his way through.

He ended up holding the shaking, cursing man, feeling the tremors of emotion and shock run through his body.

Hutch was only gone a moment and when he came back to the door, Starsky and Taylor froze, turning to look at him.

“He’s gone to Martha,” Taylor whispered brokenly, seeing Hutch’s face. Taylor tried to push away from Starsky, but Starsky held on to him, feeling the shock in the elderly man’s body. “Damn it, Raymond! I thought we had more time than this!” Taylor sobbed raggedly, and the tears came.

Then, with Hutch’s help, he took the desperately weeping man to the front room, sitting him in a chair.

Behind Taylor’s back, as the man wept brokenly, Starsky reached for Hutch’s hand, gripping it as if his life depended on it.

Just as Hutch gripped his.

 

 

Hutch quietly looked out the passenger window of the rental car as they made their way to their hotel room. The sun had just started to set, and the traffic got heavier as they neared the strip where their new hotel was. It was going to be a gorgeous night, the weather had cooled off a bit, the sky was clear and it was a Saturday night, when most people would be looking for entertainment and excitement in a city that had its share of both. But all Hutch wanted to do was hide out in their hotel room and hold Starsky.

The two of them hadn’t had time to talk about Wyatt’s death or the case. He knew they needed to talk about it, but even now Hutch wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole thing.

He had known, as well as Starsky had, that Wyatt would be dead when he entered that room. He had been glad that Starsky was able to keep Taylor out of the room. There was no reason Taylor should have to see his friend that way.

He and Starsky had held hands, where Taylor could not see them, as the man mourned. Hutch had needed that contact then, needed to touch, as well as see Starsky there beside him. It was too easy to empathize with what Taylor was feeling.

Taylor had been able to pull himself together fairly quickly. In that beautiful room, in what now felt like an empty house, Taylor admitted to them that Wyatt had hinted that he was ready to go, and would rather take his own life than suffer the pain and humiliation of living this last few months in a hospital room. He also admitted that he had agreed to support Wyatt if that’s how he wanted it to go, but he hadn’t known that Wyatt had already chosen his time.

“Damn fool took me by surprise,” Taylor said quietly. “But I guess a man can never really be ready to let his friends go.” Taylor wiped at his eyes. “I just wish he had warned me. But then, he knew I’d be frettin’ over him something awful if he did. Probably afraid I’d try to get him to change his mind or somethin’.”

Neither Starsky nor Hutch had said anything. Hutch wasn’t sure there was anything to say. But Taylor wasn’t done with either of them.

“Well, boys, I guess it’s up to you two now.”

It had been up to them. Hutch had looked at Starsky, could see the mix of emotions and thoughts on his partner’s face. But he also saw agreement there. So while Hutch called the police to report the suicide, Starsky had gone to the picnic table, and with Taylor’s help, they had put the statue in the trunk of Taylor’s car.

When the police came, it had been a simple case of reporting a suicide. Wyatt had killed himself while the three of them were outside. They had been able to vouch that it had come as a surprise to them as well as Taylor. A simple note in Wyatt’s left hand, saying that it had been his choice and no one, not even Taylor, had known what was to happen, was enough to close the case. All that had been left to do was keep Taylor company while Wyatt’s body was removed and his son was contacted. Then they were left with the inevitable statement to be taken down at the station and escorting Taylor home.

The radio was already ablaze with the news of the suicide, so Starsky had shut it off.

As Starsky pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, Hutch suddenly decided what he wanted to do.

“Let’s pack it up, Starsk,” Hutch said, before Starsky could even open the car door.

“What?”

“You go in and pack up our stuff, then meet me at the car.”

Starsky sighed tiredly. “If you’re going to get weird, Hutch, I don’t know if I’m up to it.”

“Trust me, okay?”

That got a smile. “Dummy.”

Starsky left for their rooms after Hutch tossed him his key. In the office, he borrowed the phone and a phone book, making reservations for the night and placing other orders. He got back to the car just as Starsky came up with their carry-alls.

“We checked out?” Starsky asked as he threw the bags in the back seat.

“Nope,” Hutch said, feeling better than he had in hours. “We are still checked in and just need to turn in our keys tomorrow. But I am checked in to The Olympus.”

Hutch got into the car, noticing that Starsky seemed to hesitate. Hutch watched as he got in, concern on his face as he settled behind the wheel. “But Hutch, Wyatt–”

“Is dead. By his own hand and by his own choice,” Hutch said quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Starsk, Wyatt lived his life, and he didn’t have much time left. All he wanted was to have the Golden Peacock to give back to his wife and ensure that they both would be left to rest in peace. Taylor will make sure of that now. I think Wyatt would rather we remember him fondly and enjoy ourselves rather than mourn him.”

Starsky was silent for a moment, eyes on the keys in his hand. Hutch could tell he was trying to process it all, decide how he felt about things. A crooked smile grew across his face. Giving a nod, he put the keys in the ignition.

“So about this room of yours, you up for some company?” Starsky asked, his voice teasing.

“Oh, not tonight, definitely,” Hutch said with mock seriousness. “I have a hot time planned for my spoiled lover. I have a feeling he’s going to keep me much too busy for company.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” Starsky’s grin grew into a delighted smile. “And I guess you’re right. Wyatt got to choose how he got to go; lots of people never get that. I bet he’s happier now than he’s been since Martha died.”

“So, let’s go to The Olympus, get settled into my room and get some dinner. I think we’re going to need our strength.”

 

 

The Olympus was even busier than usual, which didn’t surprise Starsky at all. The man had just killed himself, the Golden Peacock was supposed to be on display for the last time, and it was a Saturday night.

And Starsky had to admit to himself that curiosity was about to kill him. So as soon as Hutch headed to the hotel check-in desk, Starsky waited by the line set up for visitors to see the Golden Peacock one last time before it was retired.

Wonder if I’ll be able to tell the difference, he mused. Probably not. The Baron wouldn’t skimp on quality if it meant the copy could pass muster. If they ever do find out it’s a fake, then they’ll figure The Baron has it.

As he waited outside of the tourist line for the display, he mused about how the whole thing made sense once they had all the pieces.

If Hutch and I hadn’t caught on, someone else would have found it. He never did need us. The fake had to be found for people to think the Golden Peacock is back where it belongs, especially Wyatt’s son. He guessed we’d never know where the real one was while we were finding the copy. I have to admit, The Baron sure had this well planned.

Hutch joined him after a few minutes, and they both entered the line. They made small talk while they waited, which actually didn’t take that long.

The fake was impressive, in its purple nest. Starsky hadn’t really gotten a good look at either statue, but close up it was a gorgeous piece of work. It really had been a gift of love and adoration from Wyatt to his wife, if this copy was any indication. He could imagine how hard it must have been for Wyatt to lose her.

They didn’t look very long, as there was still a line behind them.

As Hutch turned toward the elevator, Starsky followed. It was too crowded for conversation, so Starsky just settled for flashing Hutch some lecherous glances when no one else was looking.

The floor they got off on was wide and impressive, the rooms farther apart than usual, which told Starsky their room was going to be pretty good sized. When the door was opened, Starsky felt like his eyebrows must be disappearing into his hairline. While he was expecting something fancy, he wasn’t expecting something so…well…tropical.

At least, that was the only word Starsky could bring to mind.

The room was on two levels, steps leading from the door down to the bedroom level. The room was large and full of plants, what must be hundreds of them—around the walls, hanging from the ceiling, and bunched up in the corners. There were small trees, exotic bushes, and bright flowers in the mix. The walls were warm, green colors that were echoed in the bedspread. The bed itself was huge, with a frame and canopy of what looked like bamboo, with a generous curtain of thin, filmy material that looked like the mosquito netting Starsky had seen in television shows with jungles in them. Even the couch, the table, and the television cabinet were done in bamboo. The outside wall looked like one large window, with a sliding glass door that opened to a wide balcony with a panoramic view of the city visible over the top of the solid railing.

You could hold a whole party out there! Starsky thought in surprise.

Turning to look at Hutch, Starsky could see he was just as surprised as he was at the jungle set up. As Hutch glanced at him, and their eyes met, they both burst into laughter.

“Hutch, you know I love you,” Starsky began, trying to talk around his chuckles, “but if you think you’re gonna get me to swing around the room on a vine, I think we’re both going to be in for a big disappointment.”

Hutch, eyes bright and smile wide, looked at him with amusement. He held up his hands in surrender. “Honest, Starsk, I asked for a nice room and they told me they had one with a jungle theme. I didn’t know it was going to be like this! But I think,” Hutch leaned close, putting an arm around his waist, “that I’m going to really like it.”

“Pervert,” Starsky said with a smile, even as he rolled his eyes. “But this has got to be costing–”

“Don’t start!” Hutch ordered, kissing him on the cheek. “This trip may have been your idea, but I’d like to make this more of ‘our’ vacation. Least I can do.”

“I’m beginning to think you have a secret kink for hotel rooms,” Starsky said in his best Mae West imitation.

Hutch, still smiling, gave him a wicked wink and walked down the stairs. Starsky followed, looking in amazement at all the plant life. He walked to the bathroom and pushed open the door as Hutch was throwing his case on the bed.

“Hey, lookit, Hutch! This bathroom is great!”

Starsky could only stand and stare at the room. he’d been in big, expensive hotel rooms before and this one matched the best of them. The shower was glass enclosed and large enough for two. The counter had two sinks, the john was enclosed in its own space and the tub looked like you could drown in it.

Hutch came up behind him to look around the room, carrying what looked like towels. “Has possibilities,” he murmured happily. “You feel like a shower?”

“I like the feel of you in a shower,” Starsky replied with a leer.

Hutch’s smile was electric, and before he knew it, they were racing to remove their clothing, ending in a tie.

Picking through the gift basket, Starsky picked out some soaps and shampoos that looked interesting while Hutch got the water started.

Starsky followed Hutch into the hot spray, putting the little bottles and soap up on a small shelf, then turned around to pull Hutch’s wet, naked body into his arms. Kissing tenderly, Hutch suddenly pulled him around until both their heads were under the heavy spray, making Starsky feel like he was kissing under a waterfall.

Gasping around a face full of water, Starsky pulled away, laughing, loving it when Hutch started to horse around.

“C’mere, ya big lug.” Starsky grabbed one of the small shampoo bottles. “Let me do your hair for you.”

“As long as I get to return the favor.”

Pouring a generous amount in his hand, he moved to stand behind Hutch, once again admiring the view of smooth, tan skin and tight, ample buttocks. He couldn’t help but lean his crotch against that inviting ass, as he reached up and started to massage Hutch’s scalp, lathering up the fine blond hair.

He could feel Hutch relax into it, his eyes closing and his head falling back to allow Starsky more access as he stood with the spray hitting his chest. Starsky moved his massage down the back of Hutch’s neck, spreading the slick shampoo over the broad shoulders.

Hutch sighed and Starsky could feel the residual tension of the day leave his muscles.

As Starsky got to Hutch’s mid back, Hutch turned around and took him in his arms, kissing him gently once again, but this time with no horseplay. As they tasted each other gently Starsky moved his soapy hand to Hutch’s chest, running his fingers in small circles, feeling the movements mirrored by the firm fingers on his ass. Their cocks rubbed together, still soft but growing firmer with every minute that passed.

After they broke for air Hutch leaned backward, head under the spray, reaching up to wash out the thick lather that Starsky had created. Smiling softly, Hutch turned them both around until Starsky was under the spray.

The water was hot and relaxing. Soon Starsky felt soapy fingers in his hair and leaned back into them, enjoying the caress as Hutch washed his hair. Before long, those fingers were at his shoulders, then a soapy washcloth was at his chest and arms, moving around and across his body in firm, sure circles. Leaning back onto Hutch, Starsky relaxed and as the large hands worked the washcloth down his stomach, Starsky reached back and braced himself on Hutch’s hips, spreading his legs farther apart so Hutch could reach him.

The washcloth was warm and slick as it engulfed him, rubbing delicious circles up and around his cock, then down to cup and roll his balls in a careful grip.

His cock grew hard under the warm water and soapy handling, and he could feel Hutch’s interest growing against his ass. When the washcloth moved around behind him, he followed Hutch’s directions to lean forward, the spray washing the soap off of him as Hutch worked the washcloth between his ass cheeks, Starsky arching to allow more access to his center, palms bracing himself against the slick, wet wall in front of him.

The washcloth disappeared and was replaced by a slick finger that rubbed a moment at his perineum, making Starsky moan with pleasure. The finger then found his center, rubbing at his entrance, as Starsky shifted once more spreading and arching himself to encourage the attention.

The finger entered him shallowly, moving around even as Hutch’s other hand came around to find his half-hard cock.

“Come for me, babe,” was whispered in his ear, Hutch’s voice rough and commanding. “I want to see you come for me.”

Starsky groaned, eyes closed under the spray, long, wet ringlets plastered against his face. The heat from the water cascaded down his body, relaxing him as the hand on his cock and the finger up his ass excited other nerves. The first finger was joined by a second, and the searching turned to thrusting just as Hutch’s other hand increased its pace.

His cock grew heavy and hard between his legs, and the urge to thrust into the pumping hand increased until he found himself rocking slightly, trying to fuck Hutch’s hand as Hutch’s fingers were gently fucking him.

He didn’t know how long they moved that way, how long he held out before it went from a slow burn to a burning need in his nerves, in his gut. He found himself humping harder into that firm hand, impaling himself deeply on those fingers, until his gut exploded and he froze, feeling Hutch’s movements grow gentle as he ejaculated, the strong fingers milking him as the waves passed through him.

Mind blank, knees weak and body glowing with completion, Starsky felt himself being pulled away from the wall and out of the spray. Before he knew it, he was being wrapped in thick, warm towels and perched on the lid of the toilet, a second towel dropped over his dripping head.

He tried to protest that Hutch hadn’t gotten the attention he deserved, but when he pushed the towel away from his eyes, he saw Hutch back in the shower–only he was doing more than rinsing off.

Hutch stood just in the open doorway of the shower. The spray hitting the tall, lean body collected in hundreds of thick trickles of water that ran over him, a bit of spray showering into the bathroom as Hutch moved. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed, long, blond tendrils covering his neck and shoulders, some curling around his ears and forehead.

With a look of rapture and lust on his face, Hutch was touching himself. Long fingers touched his chest, rubbing at nipples. The other hand was wrapped around his cock, alternately pulling and rubbing, jerking himself off in front of Starsky.

Even in his spent state it was mesmerizing. All Starsky could do was sit under the towels and watch as Hutch got closer and closer to his finish. It took but a moment, then Hutch grunted deeply, squeezing at the base of his cock. Long, thick jets of white cum erupted, only to be lost in the spray from the shower.

Swallowing thickly at the sight, Starsky looked up to meet Hutch’s smiling, warm eyes. “Dry off, buddy. The night’s not over yet,” Hutch promised seductively. Then with a wink, he shut the shower door.

Warm, dry and wrapped in a soft robe, Starsky took a few minutes to look around the room some more. The TV cabinet held a large color TV; the curtains pulled back to reveal huge windows that showed a substantial portion of the downtown area. The sun was setting now, and already the street and marquee lights were on and were starting to sparkle.

Just as Hutch came out of the bathroom, there was a knock at the door.

“Oops, they’re early. Starsk, would you mind?” Hutch waved toward the bathroom. “I’ve got a surprise to set up, so you’ll need to hang loose for a few minutes.”

“Sure,” Starsky said, feeling the thrill of a surprise as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

The walls were fairly thick for a hotel room, so Starsky had a hard time hearing more than a minute of muted conversation. While he was waiting he combed his hair again, checked his teeth and gargled again, finding that curiosity was keeping him from a settled, quiet wait.

When the knock on the door came, Starsky had to keep from bolting out to see what Hutch had been up to.

The room was now dark, with only the lamp on the bamboo nightstand lit on a low setting. Starsky looked around curiously, but could see nothing out of place or new, other than that the curtains were closed.

Hutch walked up to him, kissing him gently and nuzzling his ear.

“You hungry?” Hutch whispered.

“Sure. What’cha got in mind?”

“In the mood for a floor show?”

“In here? Like this?” Starsky asked in surprise.

“Sure.” Taking Starsky’s arm, Hutch pulled him toward the balcony.

Before he got to the glass doors, Starsky stopped and did a double-take. Hutch slid the door open and Starsky could only confirm what he saw.

There, out on the wide balcony, was a table covered in white linen with two places set in fine china and shiny silverware. There were two crystal glasses at each setting, one full with what looked like water and the other was empty. A bottle of wine sat toward the center of the table next to two lit candles, the flames moving gently in the breeze.

“Hutch, this is…this is wonderful!” Starsky managed to say, his heart in his throat.

“I know how much you like the lights, so I thought we could have a quiet dinner and watch the city. It is kind of pretty. Here, sit down and I’ll get our dinner ready.”

The view was spectacular, and even though Starsky didn’t care for heights, he couldn’t help but be drawn to the setting. Smiling, Hutch stood near him, apparently willing to wait until Starsky was comfortable enough to enter the area.

As he stepped onto the balcony, he saw the dinner cart over in the corner. As he walked to the table, he realized that the height didn’t bother him, not with Hutch so near. Sitting down, Starsky watched in appreciative silence as Hutch shut the balcony door, leaving them in candlelit darkness, with a twinkling background of the multi-colored lights of the city all around them, including the reflections in the glass.

Hutch opened the wine and tasted a sample of the clear, white liquid, nodding with agreement at the taste. He poured Starsky a glass, then set about putting large, lid-covered plates on the table, followed by a small salad and a basket of rolls. Then came a container of melted butter, salt, pepper and Starsky’s favorite dressing.

With a flourish, Hutch removed the lid from Starsky’s plate.

“A whole lobster, just like you like it, with plenty of butter and rice pilaf. I, on the other hand, am having lobster scampi,” Hutch grinned at him.

“Hutch…this is….” He knew he had said it before–how wonderful this was–but suddenly words just didn’t seem enough.

“It’s no more than you deserve, lover.” As he sat on the other side of the table, the flickering candlelight making him glow like gold. Hutch’s blue eyes grew serious, holding Starsky’s eyes, making the lump in Starsky’s throat grow even harder to swallow around.

“Starsk, I know I’m not easy to be around, sometimes,” Hutch said quietly. “I know I have my faults, and sometimes I forget to catch myself when I get nasty. But I love you more than anyone else in my life….” Starsky watched as Hutch’s eyes grew misty, his voice faltered. “I never want you to forget that.” Hutch swallowed thickly.

Starsky reached out over the table and took the hand Hutch offered.

“I know,” Starsky admitted, gripping Hutch’s hand tightly. “It’s not gonna be easy for us out there, Hutch. It wasn’t easy even before we found we were in love. We’re cops; it goes with the territory. But as long as we remember that we’ve got each other, we’ll get through the hard times.”

With his other hand Hutch picked up his wine glass. “Here’s to us, and to never forgetting what’s really important.”

“To us.”

Their glasses clinked and as they let each other go, Starsky turned his attention to his plate, knowing the moment was too heavy to continue much longer without them forgetting about dinner entirely.

They ate quietly, remarking on the food and wine, but mostly enjoying the view of the city. Even with the moon up, the view was dazzling. From where he sat, Starsky could see most of the main strip and a lot of the movement on the streets below. While a few street sounds made their way up, it was mostly quiet, and they were lucky that no other rooms in their view had anyone taking advantage of their balcony. For all intents and purposes they were alone, with the whole city below them.

The food was wonderful and the wine delicious. By the time he finished, Starsky felt as if he had had the best meal in ages.

Hutch seemed to enjoy his meal also, and after they were both finished, they poured more wine and went to the railing. Starsky put his arm around Hutch while holding his drink in the other hand, feeling safe enough to stand at the rail with Hutch next to him.

They talked awhile, about small things, about their vacation, about Wyatt and Taylor, and what The Baron must have gotten out of the deal.

They did a little soul searching, deciding that they couldn’t have done anything but walk away from the situation. They wondered why The Baron had taken the job in the first place, since it had never been said that the items he stole had ever ended up with third parties.

They talked about Wyatt and the love he had for his first wife, and what it must have meant to him to have a friend like Taylor. They worried about Taylor a bit and hoped that he, too, had friends who would stand by him just as firmly.

By the end of the bottle, both decided it was time to go in.

Hutch saved a few things from the cart on the coffee table, then put the cart outside the door. Starsky had opened the curtains, still enjoying the view. Only from his place in the middle of the bed he saw more mountain range and dark sky than anything else. And once in a while, he chose to believe a twinkle of lights were stars rather than late-night flights.

Shedding his robe and throwing it on the couch, Hutch joined Starsky in the middle of the huge bed. The two of them wrapped around each other, Starsky enjoying the warmth of the beautiful body in his arms, the clean, wind-swept smell of Hutch’s hair and the hint of cream in Hutch’s mouth.

Starsky bit and nibbled his way down Hutch’s neck, as Hutch explored every crevice and nook of Starsky’s body. Nerves were awakened and excited, bodies were kneaded and massaged, and even now new places of pleasure giving were discovered.

They moved into a sixty-nine position, Starsky taking Hutch’s cock in his mouth, sucking in the sweet flesh and the bitter pre-cum. He heard Hutch moaning low as he played with it, licking and sucking up and down, nibbling at the soft, nearly hairless sac underneath.

His own cock was hard and happy in Hutch’s mouth, making Starsky pause at intervals, parts of his mind going haywire at certain touches and licks.

When they both came for the second time that evening, it was together, with low and deep moans and whispers of love.

They lazed quietly afterward, holding each other, but neither drifted off to sleep. This was their last night of vacation, and Starsky knew that even though they had until check-out time the next day to lie in bed, neither of them were ready to call it a night. Their future, always uncertain, meant that there was no telling when they could be together this way again and would have to settle for quick sessions during “lunches” at home or at the end of stressful days. There was no foreseeing if they would spend more nights apart than together once they got home, so tonight was too important to waste in sleep.

After they had been quiet for a while, Hutch pulled away and got out of bed, opening the television cabinet and turning on the TV.

“You in a TV mood?” Starsky asked, moving to lie on his stomach at the end of the bed.

“Better than that, they have adult movies piped into these rooms,” Hutch flipped through the channels and stopped on one that clearly had some adult activities in progress.

“Hey, our own porno theater!” Starsky laughed, watching a youngish guy in the middle of licking at a very blonde woman’s large, naked breasts.

Hutch went into the bathroom and came back with two glasses, then stopped and picked up the covered plate he had kept from the cart. Handing the plate and glasses to Starsky, he lifted the lid.

“Milk and cookies to go with your porn, little boy.”

Starsky barked in laugher, almost upsetting the plate of chocolate chip cookies, and was joined by Hutch, who was on his way back for the milk.

“I knew you were a pervert!” Starsky crowed delightedly, snagging a cookie and holding his glass out for his share of the milk. “You’re just taking advantage of my youth–”

“And your horniness.”

“–to have your evil way with me.”

“Too true,” Hutch agreed, setting the pitcher on the nightstand and carefully balancing his glass of milk as he crawled onto the bed to join his partner.

“They have a gay channel?”

“Just got the one, buddy, and I’m guessing we’re not going to see too much gay male action. Why, you need some pointers?”

“No, but I was hoping to find you some,” Starsky said, smiling mischievously at Hutch.

“Complaining are we? I think someone could end up regretting that remark if he doesn’t watch out.”

Laughing, they watched the porn for a while, making snide and lewd comments about the male and female actors, the sets, and the whole porn industry in general.

Starsky enjoyed himself, loving the way Hutch was smiling and laughing. After the milk and cookies were gone, Starsky unashamedly eating a lot more than his fair share, both lay on their stomachs and watched for a while.

Even with their laughing and lewd remarks, Starsky soon found himself growing warm with desire, his cock growing hard under him. And it struck him how lopsided things where when mixed in the various straight scenes, were the girl-on-girl scenes. There were no scenes with guys getting it on with each other.

Says a lot about society–that lesbian scenes are par for the course, but two naked men in a room have to make sure they never touch. That doesn’t sound right!

Not that he didn’t thoroughly enjoy the girl-on-girl scenes. If one girl was good, two were even better! But he had never before realized how unfair it was.

As the scene played on before him, Starsky felt the bed move a little. Glancing over, Starsky felt himself blush a bit as he realized that Hutch, eyes closed, was flexing his hips slightly, humping the bed, a blissful expression on his features that matched the slight flush of his cheeks.

Giving up on the movie, Starsky rolled to his side, touching his own erection lightly as he watched with growing fascination the flexing muscles of Hutch’s ass, the way his thighs were parted and the almost hypnotic movement as he thrust slowly against the bed.

And the longer Starsky watched, the more he found it erotic and wonderfully lewd. He hadn’t realized how little he had seen Hutch from this angle, moving so sexually and looking so hot and bothered. Hutch’s eyes were open to slits, watching Starsky watch him, an almost embarrassed smile on his full lips.

Starsky knew he must be flushing crazily himself, his hand soothing his own cock that seemed very, very interested in what Hutch was doing.

Hutch stopped the movement, stretched his long arms and legs, humming as he did so.

“Man,” Hutch murmured afterward, almost purring, “do I ever feel like fucking.”

Starsky swallowed at the announcement, growing even hornier at the sound of Hutch being verbally naughty. Unable to stop himself, Starsky reached over and gripped Hutch’s ass cheek, squeezing it. “Be my guest,” he whispered thickly.

“Oh, I intend to,” Hutch said, eyeing Starsky’s body hotly. “I have some plans for that evil, sexy ass of yours.”

Before he knew it Hutch was upon him, putting his full weight on Starsky, his mouth at the tender spot at the crook of his neck. Starsky wiggled at the onslaught, laughing but turned on as well. Then suddenly, Hutch was up and out of the bed, his hard cock bobbing as he moved.

Striding over to the cabinet, he turned off the television then threw the couch cushions on the floor in front of the balcony door. Hutch then pulled a sheet off the bed, making Starsky move as he did so, then threw the sheet over the cushions. Carefully moving the coffee table closer to the cushions, Hutch then opened the sliding door, and a cool waft of desert-scented wind blew softly around the room, gently rustling the leaves on the dozens of plants throughout the room.

Walking over to the lamp, which had only given out a very dim light to this point, Hutch clicked it off.

As the room was plunged into darkness with only the faint glow of the city behind the balcony railing, Starsky shivered at the sound of the rustling plants in the darkness.

It sounds like we’re in the wilderness, he thought in surprise. Like we’re the only two people in the world.

He startled as Hutch gently touched his arm, and as his eyes adjusted, he could see him outlined faintly.

Letting Hutch lead him, Starsky found himself facedown on the sheet-covered cushions, half in/half out of the balcony doors. Starsky shivered in anticipation, the gentle breeze and the stronger smell of plants and soil making him feel as if he really were outside, as if they really were alone in the jungle somewhere, bare-assed naked and hornier than hell.

Hutch carefully positioned him on hands and knees, both cushioned well against the hard floor, Starsky finding the upper half of his body out on the balcony itself.

“No one can see us from here,” Hutch whispered huskily into his ear, his body feeling even hotter to Starsky in contrast to the cool breeze. “We can do what we want and they can’t see us unless we stand up.”

Glancing up Starsky was thrilled to see it was true, seeing only the underside of other balconies within his view. And at this point, with Hutch’s hot hand roaming his exposed body, Starsky wouldn’t have cared if they could. This felt too wild–too primal–to want to stop.

Hutch was behind him now, pushing his shoulders down, spreading Starsky’s ass cheeks farther apart.

Starsky felt Hutch’s mouth on him like fire, the hot tongue making wet, wide circles on his right ass cheek.

“You branded me, now it’s my turn to brand you,” Hutch said, voice rough and serious. “You’re mine, and no one else can ever touch you again.”

Head on his folded arms, Starsky shivered again; he could feel his cock throb at the seriousness of the words. He gasped as Hutch grabbed his balls in a tight grip, making him spread his legs even wider apart as his sac was pulled down gently, making Starsky follow the grip.

Then the mouth was on his left cheek, only this time a tiny amount of skin on his ass was sucked into Hutch’s mouth, sucked on almost to the edge of pain, then let go with a soothing lick. Without letting go of the firm grip on Starsky’s testicles, Hutch repeated the process, attacking the skin in one, thin line. It wasn’t until Hutch started on a second line that he realized what Hutch was doing.

Tomorrow, Starsky knew with certainly, he was going to have one large H-shaped hickey, smack in the middle of his left ass cheek.

And Starsky bit his lip then, wanting to both laugh and moan at the exotic rightness of it, knowing that for as long as it lasted it would be the most wonderful thing that he owned, but also the most frustrating, because he couldn’t show it off.

Hutch must have realized he had figured it out, because he chuckled deeply as he continued his branding.

After a few minutes, the “H” now feeling obvious on the sensitive skin of his ass, Hutch released his balls after giving the area a soft kiss. Then Hutch pulled back away from him.

Starsky was hard now, desperate for Hutch to touch him once more, and he must have moaned aloud, for Hutch’s hand was on his other cheek, rubbing it softly.

“Hold on, babe, I’m still here.”

As he waited, Starsky listened to the breeze and the plants as they danced to the movement, hearing only faint sounds of the civilization below them, feeling the hairs on his body move to the same breezes. He felt heady with it, excited and aching for Hutch’s hands and his cock.

He didn’t have to wait long, as something gentle and oily touched his opening, rubbing at the thin, tender flesh.

Starsky groaned out loud, deeply, his mind centering and focusing on the slick, firm administration. The greasy finger, which Starsky realized was coated with the left-over butter from his lobster dinner, entered him carefully, twisting to coat the ring of muscle inside.

Then the finger left and before Starsky could react, his hips were pulled upward, his cheeks pulled as far apart as possible and a tongue touched him.

“Ah, Hutch!” Starsky gasped, the electric shock of it jolting him with pleasure.

Hutch gripped him harder, the tongue suddenly probing deeper and deeper until Starsky thought he would faint from the sensation of it.

He had no idea how long it lasted, or how much longer he could have stood such attention. Before he could get his thoughts together, on the edge of sanity, the tongue left him and in its place was the slick, flaring head of Hutch’s cock.

“Fuck me,” Starsky heard himself moan desperately. “Please!”

Starsky gasped as Hutch pushed through the ring of muscle then stopped. It felt so good, yet so impossibly huge at the same time. Breathing deeply, Starsky willed himself to relax, and after a moment could feel the muscles obey him. He groaned loudly, as Hutch slid more into him, then stopped. He could hear Hutch behind him, almost feel the deep humming from Hutch through their connection points of hands and cock.

Hutch pushed the rest of the way in, Starsky lost in the feeling of the cock smoothly filling him up. They stayed that way for a moment, both of them panting, Starsky’s heart loud in his ears. Then Hutch started to move and Starsky moved with him.

Hutch started slowly, pulling out, then sliding carefully back in, jolting that ring of muscle every time he did so. As the push and pull on Starsky’s insides grew faster, Starsky felt his own cock grow hard again, not having realized it had ever started to go soft.

“Yes…yes…do-me…do-me…oh…yes…deeper…deeper!” Starsky chanted, then gasped as Hutch complied, changing his angle until Starsky’s prostate flared, shocking him with the pleasure of it. Hutch continued to push deeply, but soon was moving too quickly to pull completely out anymore. Instead, he continued to keep steady pressure on Starsky’s prostate.

What he might have said after that Starsky had no idea, his mind and body flying too high to keep track of all the wonderful sensations that were pulsing through him. When Hutch grabbed his cock in a grease-slicked hand and pulled at it roughly, Starsky felt he would die from it, teetering on the edge of falling into a bottomless orgasm. Starsky called for Hutch, needing him inside and outside, and in two quick, hard push/pulls on his cock, Starsky’s body and mind hit that invisible wall and fell, jerking and thrashing as his body responded in release.

As his climax flowed through him in rolling waves and his cock pulsed as he covered the sheets under him with his cum, Starsky could feel Hutch’s hands at his hips, holding his spasming body in place as Hutch pounded frantically into him.

Starsky heard him gasp loudly, as if he were drowning, felt the wild cock inside him swell even more as Hutch fell forward, burying himself inside Starsky as far as humanly possible.

“Stars…stars…stars…starssssssssssKKK-UH!”

As the yell reverberated around the room they both collapsed, still connected, bodies still twitching.

Starsky remembered rolling them on their sides, Hutch’s weight too much to take, leaving Hutch spooned behind him, every inch of available skin plastered together, Hutch panting deeply against the nape of his neck.

Then as their breathing slowed and their bodies relaxed, Starsky once again noticed the cool breeze blowing over their naked bodies, the sounds of the plants rustling and the caress of Hutch’s breath on the back of his neck.

They were the only people left in the world–in the universe–and, as he drifted off with Hutch’s strong arm around him, he could feel his lover still deep inside him.

Just where he needed him to be.

 

 

Starsky found himself whistling happily as he pulled his and Hutch’s bags out of the back seat of the rental car. Of all the things he was going to miss about being on vacation, this car wasn’t going to be one of them.

They had cut it close, spending all morning at The Olympus in that huge bed, Starsky still unsure how they had gotten back into it. They had been messing around in between feeding each other their room service breakfast. They then had had to shower quickly when they realized how close to check-out time they were. Still, Starsky had taken a few moments to admire the letter on his ass, and for the rest of the afternoon he seemed to feel it every time he moved, loving the fact that only the two of them knew it was there.

After checking out of The Olympus, with Starsky stopping to buy a postcard of the Golden Peacock for a souvenir, they hurried to the hotel the Reno PD had paid for and checked out of it. He had to agree with Hutch’s plans–that if anyone asked, they’d been out all night and had come back to those separate rooms. They’d gathered enough official attention that it wouldn’t hurt to play it safe.

They then stopped by the PD to put their signatures on the finished statements, both for the original heist and for Wyatt’s death. They were able to learn that Wyatt’s son had planned for his father to be cremated and a memorial service was to be held on Tuesday. Starsky knew that with Taylor in the background, things would go as Wyatt wanted. That thought made him feel better about the whole thing.

They also found that Smithson and Palmer were off duty. Starsky wished they’d had the chance to say good-bye, but both he and Hutch were loath to track the two cops down just to give their good-byes.

They spent the rest of the afternoon at the movies, Starsky pleased that Hutch didn’t mind spending the last afternoon of their vacation that way. By then, they’d both had their fill of gambling and hanging around casinos, so sitting in the theater and eating too much popcorn seemed like a nice, calm way to end their trip.

He signed the car back in with the rental agent and turned in the keys.

“I got the tickets,” Hutch announced as he walked up to Starsky in the busy airport. “Boarding is in forty minutes, so we don’t have to rush.”

“That’s good. It’ll give me a chance to check out the gift shop.”

“Gift shop?” Hutch looked at him sternly. “You mean we’ve been running around this city for days, you’ve taken about a hundred pictures, and now you’re worried about getting souvenirs?”

“Sure,” Starsky said with a smile as he picked up his bag, “that way you don’t have to carry a bunch of stuff around all the time and none of it will get crushed or broken ’cause it was smashed in your suitcase. Plus, you don’t know what the best souvenirs are going to be if you haven’t had a chance to have your vacation.”

Hutch gave him a look of disbelief, but followed him to the shop anyway.

“Hey, there you are!” a voice yelled across the busy terminal. “Starsky! Hutchinson! Wait up!”

They turned and Starsky saw Palmer and Smithson running in their direction.

“Hey, what are you guys doing here?” Hutch asked with a smile, holding his hand out for them to shake.

“Just found out from the station that you guys were on your way out this afternoon. Tried to catch you at the hotel but you’d already checked out.” Smithson shook their hands. “Palmer and I wanted to say good-bye before you left.”

“Yeah, just in case we want to get down to Bay City sometime, we thought we’d be better off if we had some friends down that way. Anytime we travel, we seem to attract trouble.”

Starsky laughed with Hutch. “Yeah, we get that feeling at times, too.”

“So, you guys on the square with your captain?” Palmer asked. “I bet he wasn’t too happy to find you two needed a couple more days off.”

“Oh, sure, he’s fine with it,” Hutch answered quickly. “We get loaned out to other departments all the time, so as long as we were being useful he was okay with it.”

“Not that we won’t get the third degree as soon as we walk into the station tomorrow,” Starsky added. “But at least we have a valid excuse.”

Smithson smiled. “I think you two have someone else to watch out for, because The Baron will know you helped thwart his plans once again.

“I don’t think The Baron is that concerned with us,” Hutch said, but to Starsky he didn’t sound very sure of that.

They talked for a while longer, then Palmer and Smithson took their leave, shaking hands all around once more. Finding they had only a few minutes left, Starsky had to make due with some postcards to add to the one of the Golden Peacock he had already bought, along with a couple of packs of used cards from one of the casinos, and a tour booklet of Virginia City to go along with all the pictures he’d taken. The cashier was counting out his change just as their flight number was called.

Walking down the terminal to their gate they got in line, Starsky hoping that this flight wouldn’t be too crowded. He hoped that he and Hutch could talk on the way without too much distraction.

“Well, hello, gentlemen!”

Starsky winced, recognizing the voice. A glance at Hutch, who was looking over his shoulder, told him his identification had been correct.

“Hello, Roger,” Hutch said politely. “Imagine seeing you here.”

Turning, Starsky saw Roger Martini walking their way. His stomach dropped at the sight of a ticket in his hand.

“Isn’t this a coincidence?” Roger exclaimed, all smiles under the unruly hair, thick glasses and messy mustache. “Looks like we’re all headed home on the same plane!”

“I…uh…thought you were here for a divorce?” Starsky asked, wondering if the question was going to be a mistake. Did he really want to know?

“Oh, well…yes…. You see, my wife and I have been talking this weekend, and have decided to make another go at it. You see, it all started when….”

Tuning Roger out, Starsky looked at Hutch, who was equally lost as to how to get rid of this guy.

Well, Starsky thought, wondering where he and Hutch were sitting in relation to Roger. If nothing else, I’m now more ready to get off that plane and end my vacation than I was a few minutes ago.

I only hope we’re on opposite sides of the plane!

 

 

Safely on the plane to Bay City, in coach nonetheless, The Baron refrained from lighting one of his cigars and settled for a cigarette instead. He ignored the chatty lady in the seat next to him, letting her rattle on as much as she pleased. He contented himself with watching the tops of the clouds from the window while he could

Not my finest moment, by any means, but certainly not my worst, he mused, his mind going over the events of the last month in minute detail. He would usually dissect any of his heists in a minute-by-minute fashion, until he had every move memorized and analyzed to his content

He remembered the excitement of dodging the two detectives as he made his way to the back of the toy store, feigning a violent sickness to hide the sounds of cutting through the drywall. It had taken him a few precious weeks of study to find the small flaw in the casino’s blueprints that left a big enough gap between the main floor and the basement ceiling that had allowed him to drop silently into the room where the Golden Peacock was being worked on

He also remembered waiting outside, heart in his throat, as the police arrived along with the fire department. It had taken a couple of hours for the hotel guests to be let back in. The wait to see if his plan had worked, or failed, seemed to be the longest minutes of his life. It had been an adrenaline rush such as he hadn’t had in far too long

When he was finally allowed in with the rest of the guests, he had not been surprised to see that the fake had been discovered

Those two certainly helped my project along. I should have told Raymond what I had planned, even though he insisted on not knowing what I was going to do. I shouldn’t have worried him so.

He had not planned on Raymond Wyatt coming to the scene of the crime, or he would have warned him that there would be a fake involved. He would never have intentionally worried the elderly man that way. But Raymond Wyatt never did do what others expected of him, especially when it was family he was dealing with

At least you had company in your last few hours, dear cousin, even if it wasn’t any of your estranged family. And I know Harley Taylor will do what he needs to do to reunite you with your wife’s remains–and her gift. For if he doesn’t, he’ll know that the gift will not remain in his possession very long.

But what of Starsky and Hutchinson? Do they even know who really won this game?

A part of him hoped that Raymond had given Taylor the Golden Peacock before the detectives arrived, but another part of him hoped that they knew they had been well used. It would be only small compensation for them causing him to lose the diamonds he had had his heart set on

Maybe next time we shall be able to even the score a bit more.

And there would certainly be a “next time” The Baron vowed. He enjoyed the excitement they brought to the game

Otherwise, why even play?

 

 

Next week on Starsky & Hutch: