Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, favorites, alerts and PMs! I was kind of nervous about this story…I've never written a fanfiction for the Dukes before; I hope I get the characters right!

Disclaimer: No matter how much I wish I did, I do not own the Dukes of Hazzard. Non-canon characters are mine, though. On with the story!

DoH DoH DoH

"Bo, I think that about does it." Uncle Jesse set down the box of nails. "That'll hold for sure."

"Until the next windstorm, anyway." The blonde Duke grinned down from the roof top. "Then we'll be up here again."

Uncle Jesse nodded in agreement. "You're probably right, son." He paused as Daisy pulled up in her pristine white Jeep.

"Sorry I'm late for dinner, Uncle Jesse. Boss Hogg made me stay later than usual." The brunette frowned as she swung out of 'Dixie' expertly.

"Late for dinner?" Uncle Jesse frowned, puzzled. "That roof job must have took longer than I thought. Oh no, the pot roast!" He dashed inside like a scalded cat.

Bo and Daisy chuckled as she helped him down from the roof. The telephone started ringing.

"I got it!" Bo called as he headed inside. Daisy followed, shaking her head. The table was neatly set, as usual, and the pot roast smelled heavenly. She smiled, hands on her hips as she took in the sight of her family. Except...where was Luke? She glanced around for him, then noticed the General was absent from his usual parking spot. He must be in town, running errands for Uncle Jesse. She said to herself as she got down four glasses for the milk. With her back turned, she didn't see the worried look that came into Bo's eyes as he hung up the phone.

"Good news; the pot roast is saved!" Uncle Jesse announced, waving a worn pot-holder over the pan he had just pulled from the oven.

"Bad news; Luke's missing." Bo followed, absently rubbing his forehead.

"What?" Uncle Jesse and Daisy said together.

"That was Cooter. Apparently the General blew a tire and Luke dropped him off for repairs. Cooter had to fix the brakes so Luke went for a walk. He never came back, and that was hours ago. No one's seen him since." Bo frowned, obviously worried. "Cooter thought maybe he got a lift back from town with Daisy rather than wait. But that wasn't the case."

"Oh no!" Daisy covered her mouth in concern. "What do we do?"

Uncle Jesse took charge, pot roast forgotten. "Now, look, Luke's a responsible young man. He wouldn't just disappear without good reason. We need to go take a look around town."

"Uncle Jesse?" Bo said, a thought occurring to him. "You know Luke likes to walk around the abandoned areas of town, right?"

"Yeah, he says he likes the peace and quiet." Uncle Jesse nodded.

"Maybe he got under one of those falling buildings and got hurt?"

"Now, let's not jump to any conclusions; but we should check it out. You two take Daisy's car and I'll meet up with you after I make a round of the hospitals. Get Cooter on the trail too." Uncle Jesse ordered, headed to his truck as he spoke.

Daisy didn't even protest when Bo got behind the wheel of Dixie. When he got in one of these moods you did not argue with, annoy or delay Bo if you didn't want a split lip. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the CB crackled to life.

"Hey, y'all, Bo Duke? You got your ears on, come back ?" The feminine voice sounded angry.

"Who's that, Bo?" Daisy shot him a strange look. "Latest broken heart?"

"Believe me, Daisy, I have no idea." Bo looked confused. "Answer it."

"This here's Daisy Duke, you mind telling me what you want with my cousin?" The dark-haired girl said in an icy tone. If he hadn't been worried about Luke, Bo would have smiled at her protectiveness.

"This here's Liz Jackson; and your cousin just skipped out on a race with my brother. I want to know why."

Daisy stopped, glancing at Bo. He and Jimmy Jackson had been butting heads for a while over their racing, and when Jimmy had physically pushed Bo to the ground, it had nearly come to an all out war. Luke had intervened, suggesting a race between the two boys to settle the score.

"Hand that here." Bo's voice was deathly calm. With one hand on the wheel, he addressed the woman.

"Listen, ma'am, I never make excuses, so I'll be brief. I have something a little more important to do then proving myself to your brother."

"Oh, what's that? Hiding behind your big, brave Marine cousin again?" The woman's voice was taunting.

"No ma'am. My cousin's in trouble, and that matters more to me than your stupid race. Over and out." Bo slammed the CB back down.

"Good job, Bo." Daisy smiled at him. "But don't you think you're over-reacting? Maybe Luke just lost track of time or something."

"I'd like to believe that, Daisy, but I can't." Bo shook his head as he turned into a deserted area of town. "I just have this gut feeling Luke's in trouble."

"I think you're right, Bo." Daisy sighed. "I hope he's okay."

Well, now, ain't that a kick in the teeth? The one time Bo is right about something, and it's the fact that Luke's in trouble. Speaking of Luke, he should be waking up right about now.

Luke turned his head, trying to make sense of his pounding head. He tried to raise his hand and found that it was bound to a bedpost.

"What?" He sat up as far as he could. He found he was tied by his hands to a rusty cot in a dark cellar. His legs were free, however. He felt something sticky on his forehead that he assumed to be blood. "What the-" He shook his head briskly. "Oh, man, that hurts."

"Shut up." A sudden, cold voice made Luke start violently. An oil lamp sharply blazed across the wide room. A large man walked over to Luke's bedside. Luke repressed a shudder.

The man was well over six feet, well built and mean-looking. He had a scar running from his left eye down to his jaw. He was shaved bald and his eyes were completely cold.

"Well, I see you're awake." He grinned, managing only to make himself even meaner looking.

"No, I'm sleeping like a log." Usually it was Bo smarting off, but pain tended to make Luke sarcastic.

"A funny man, huh?" The man chuckled humorlessly. "I have a sense of humor too."

Before Luke could even brace himself, a huge fist connected with his jaw. His head snapped back, pain doing a tap dance through his mouth. He felt blood trickle out of the corner of his mouth.

"I don't think we laugh at the same things, boy." The man chuckled again. "See, that was fun to me. But probably not to you, huh?"

Luke blinked up at the man, defiance apparent on his face. The man leaned forward and grabbed a handful of hair, pulling Luke's head up painfully.

"I asked you a question, boy." His voice was deceptively gentle.

"No, I didn't find that fun." Luke spit a spray of blood onto the man's face. "But that was."

The man released him and wiped the blood off his face, eyes locked on Luke.

"This is a fun job." He commented offhandedly. A third voice cut through the room.

"Preston? You there?" The voice was of a nervous man. Luke didn't dare take his eyes off the man to access where the voice was coming from.

The large man crossed back over to the table where the lamp was burning. He grabbed a CB and answered. "I'm here." So he has a name. Luke thought. Wonder if it's a first or last name.

"This is Simmel. Do you have the package?"

"Yeah, I got him. Wasn't too hard, either." Preston chuckled again. "Just walking in plain sight, but away from witnesses. Perfect."

"Is he awake?"

"For now."

"Remember, our client said he wasn't to be harmed." The other man seemed to be pleading, not ordering.

Preston grunted, but neither affirmed or denied he understood. "How much we getting for this job?"

"Three thousand. Apiece." Greed entered the other man's voice. "All we have to do is make sure he doesn't get away before we're told to let him go."

Preston rubbed the back of his neck. "I can do that."

He apparently didn't care that Luke was listening to their conversation. That was a bad sign. Luke wasn't born yesterday; he knew that a kidnapped person was rarely returned. Especially if they have seen their kidnapper's face or heard his name. And Luke had done both. His chances of getting out were slim, despite what this Simmel had said.

"I'll need more supplies soon." Preston said calmly, reaching into his pocket and pulled out a hunting knife, which he ran along the table edge.

"Done. I'll come by after sundown tomorrow. Is this still a secure channel?"

"Far as I know. Over." Preston moved to cut the connection.

"Remember, he's not to be harm-" Preston reached over and flipped the radio off.

He turned and eyed Luke, face unreadable.

"Are you hungry?"

Luke shook his head, but at that exact moment his stomach growled loudly.

"Oh, Lukey, you don't have to be brave. If you're hungry, say so." The man's voice was jolly, even friendly.

"Okay, I could eat." Luke narrowed his eyes. This man is totally unstable. No? Really? What was your first clue, Sherlock? He thought to himself.

"Here you go." Preston walked over to a small box in the far corner. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He grabbed a tin plate and piled something on it.

He walked back over to Luke, smiling. He had the hunting knife in one hand. "Are you right or left handed?"

Luke eyed him. "Right."

The man kneeled by the bedside and cut the rope on Luke's left hand. "No funny business." He warned, waving the knife at Luke like a stern parent. He turned and pulled a crate over by the bed and balanced the plate on it.

"There you go, Luke." He smiled friendly-like, as if he hadn't cracked Luke's jaw less than ten minutes before. Luke kept one eye on him as he ate with his weaker hand. Dry bread and tough jerky were never so delicious to him before. After he finished he looked up at Preston.

"Do you want something, Luke?" It grated on Luke's nerves to have his name used in such a casual manner by a stranger, and an enemy at that. "All you have to do is ask, you know."

"Can. Can I have some water?" Luke's throat was so dry his voice cracked.

"Oh, of course!" The man actually scurried to grab a cup. He walked over to a small bucket and ladled a dipperful of water into it. "I almost forgot!"

Luke accepted the cup gratefully and swallowed it all in one gulp. He wiped his mouth and reevaluated his guard. Maybe the man wasn't too bad; just had to be careful around him. He decided to press his luck a little. He didn't have much else to do.

"Why am I here?" He leaned against the bed frame as Preston tied his hand back.

"Because I am getting good money to keep you here."

"Who's paying you?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. Simmel arranged everything." His face flashed dark for a second. Then his face cleared again. "Lights out, it's time for bed!" He chirped as he walked over and doused the lamp. Which left Luke alone in the dark with this madman.

Uh oh. Luke, you better be sleeping with one eye open. Hold on Folks, it's going to be a long night. Not just for poor Luke, but his worried family.