SHADOWS - Dukes of Hazzard

Author's Notes: WooHoo! Interest! Yay. Luck of luck, I've already got a few more chapters sketched out, so I'll post one today and one tomorrow, if I get another review. -

PART II

Anxiety building in his chest, Cooter retreated to a clear section of wall, his gaze cast upon the floor as he tried to think of an acceptable solution. He was oblivious to his surroundings, lost in thought, until Ethan settled a hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

"No." Cooter's eyes traveled to the bound man cuffed to a bar in the cieling, the man's toes barely steadying him on the floor. "This is gonna' be trouble."

"Tell me what ain't." Ethan chuckled. "He really a sheriff?"

Cautious, Cooter nodded. "His name's Rosco." Ethan looked at the mechanic for a long moment, a grin breaking across his smooth features.

"How much can ya put up?"

"Um, four, I think. Five, if'n I push it," Cooter replied.

"I can max ten on mah own if necessary an' that's fifteen between tha two of us."

"Ethan, I-"

"I know," the younger man cut him off. "We been meetin' fer half a decade now. I ain't lookin' fer nuttin' in return, but how ya gonna' keep 'im quiet long a'nough ta convince 'im ta keep this a secret?"

Cooter scowled. "I don't know."

"Do you even got an alibi for 'im?"

"No," he sighed. "Wha' do you suggest?"

"No idea jus' yet. How 'bout we get 'im bafore we worry 'bout that, though, huh?"

"We?"

"Sure." Ethan's grin broadened. "Gives me an excuse ta see what 'cher town's like."

The tension eashed from Cooter's shoulders a little bit. "Aw'right then."

While waiting for the end of the hour, they dressed, nerves tightening with every passing minute of the final quarter hour. At last, Mason gave the signal and men began to call out their offers. Until it began to slow, the partners said nothing.

"Two-fifty," Ethan joined in at last.

"Three," someone else responded.

"Four." Coorer tried to be nonchalant. Any visible worry would only make the others more eager to bid.

"Five," Mason put in.

"Six-fifty." Ethan met Cooter's eyes and swallowed, aware that their host intended to toy with them.

"Eight." The mechanic met the bidder's green eyes, refusing to back down.

"Nine," Ethan replied. The others quieted down and looked on in interest.

"Twelve."

"Fifteen," Cooter said stiffly.

Mason allowed them to see his smirk. "Eighteen."

"Nineteen," Ethan's snap was more harsh than he'd intended, skin prickling uncomfortably.

"Twenty." The smirk faded as quickly as it had come.

"Twenty-five," Ethan enunciated softly. They waited, apprehension strutting in stilleto heels across their nerve endings as Mason clenched his jaw.

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