PART IX
Rosco shivered, swallowing as he slid onto the barstool. He had no idea why he had to be the keystone for the whole scheme, and though it did put butterflies in his stomach, a quiver in his liver as he'd said a minutes before, the damn insects had been set aflutter by Ethan's demonstration of his last instructions when they finally met up a few blocks from the bar. The sheriff licked his lips, eyes darting to the barkeeper as he pushed the kiss from his thoughts.
"What can I get 'cha?"
"Ignis avis." he'd been tested over and over to make sure he said it correctly, to pronounce the 'v' as a 'w' as was appropriate. (Latin - fire bird : is not written to translate as bird of fire)
Stunned, the barkeep nodded and stepped away, returning with Mason. Having never seen or really met the man, Rosco was intimidated by the heavily muscles form and shrank back a little.
"Vel ovum vel flamma?" (Latin - egg or flame ... may be improperly written in Latin)
Rosco couldn't remember, off-footed by the knowledge that the man had sold him only the night before, but didn't seem to recognize him. Besides, it had been said much faster and with more accent than Ethan had used, making the words almost indistinguishable to his untrained ears. "Ovum?" He hoped he'd given the right answer. (Latin - egg)
Mack turned to the barkeep, giving brief directions in the other language. Ignorant of the translation, Rosco followed as Mason gestured him into a back room. The bar in a corner of the ceiling told the sheriff he'd been there not long ago and he jumped, spinning around as he heard the lock click behind them.
"Obviously, Ethan instructed 'ja in what ta say," the man remarked, scowling, "but 'e does have a way a' makin' 'is points. How much did 'e say ta ask for?"
"Luke Duke."
Mason furrowed his brow, green eyes narrowing. "What?"
"Tha fella Daniel Coombs took. That's tha payment," Rosco explained.
"Friend a' yers?"
"Yes." He had no desire to let the man know the sentiment wasn't returned.
"Aw'right, but only if you agree ta give Ethan a message for me."
"Okay."
Rosco squeaked, unintentionally backing into a wall as Mason advanced on him. Grabbing the empty gun belt, Mason pinned him, tongue darting between parted lips as the lawman gasped. The more experienced man grinned and deepened the kiss, stifling whimpers of alarm as he gripped the sheriff's wrists. His growing erection settled comfortably into Rosco's hip and he nudged the man's legs apart. The hard muscle of his upper thigh pressed against the sheriff's groin and Mason swallowed the moan of pleasure, echoing it with enthusiasm as he rocked forward slightly.
A cold hand abruptly closed on the back of his neck and strong fingers dug between the muscles, sparking waves of pain that cut deep along his spine. Giving a yelp, Mason held perfect still, tensing in a vain attempt to relieve some of the agony as tears sprang to his eyes.
"You aw'right, Sheriff?"
Gulping air into his lungs, Rosco nodded nervously, gaze riveted on hazel oculars. Ethan looked at Mason's profile, forcing the other man to turn his head so that the younger could get a better look at him.
"Am I interruptin' or do ya want me ta break this up?"
"Y-yeah."
Shaking a little, Rosco wasn't quite sure which one he was agreeing to, but Ethan pulled the larger man away, all but flinging him to the other side of the room. The unexpected display of strength made something click in the sheriff's mind and he hastily looked away, lest his already flushed features become too obvious. Before the bar's owner could say a word, Cooter picked him up by the shoulders and slung him out the door, the handle of which had been knocked clear out. Rosco blinked. Who had kicked in the door and why hadn't he heard it?
"Well, when 'e wants ta be, he's certainly a hard ta resist man," Ethan conceded. "I dinnit think he'd gotten that brazen this week, though. Sorry."
Rosco giggled in spite of himself. "Don't be."
Cooter and Ethan shared raised eyebrows, impressed, and chuckled. "Well," the mechanic remarked, "did 'e tell ya where Luke is?"
"Um, not yet." His puppy-dog expression sufficed as an apology.
"Damn." Ethan crossed his arms, eyes upon the floor as he tried to think. "I s'pose- no. Shit. That was torn down three weeks ago." He scowled, resigned. "He's never gonna tell anyone now, so's tha only thing I can think of is tha Sepulcretum." (Latin - cemetary)
"What's that?"
"It's where slaves 'round 'ere are us'ally held bafore bein' sold."
"How do you know aw that?" Bo demanded, stepping into the room.
Chance of chances, the men happened to be standing so that the Duke couldn't see Rosco's erection, but the sheriff hastily rid himself of the problem anyway. Picturing Boss Hogg and Lulu's honeymoon was a bit extreme, making his stomach protest sharply, but it did the job.
"I named tha place." Ethan moved passed him, heading for the vehicles.
"Now what just a minute." Bo grabbed his arm. "You never did tell us how you got mixed up in aw this."
Running a hand through his closely-cropped hair, Ethan sighed in disgust. "It's real simple; Davenport was recommended as tha best mechanic around. I cawed 'im ta check on mah car 'cause I'm plannin' ta move away. Testin' tha engine out, we ran into a van. It went inta tha ditch an' caught fire. Davenport pulled 'jer sheriff out, we went back ta my place ta recoop since tha kidnappers 'ad taken off when we wrecked, an' then went ta Hazzard County, where I sold mah property. You know tha story from there, don't 'cha?"
"You tryin' ta tell me you'll take on that muscled fella a minute ago, but 'cha won't pull someone from a burnin' car?" Bo scoffed.
"I'm afraid a' fire," he replied dismissively.
No one stopped him this time as he moved to leave, but they did hurry after a moment of shock. They found him leaning on the hood of the patrol car, a map spread out before him. He traced his finger across the surface, occasionally hesitating and then changing directions. They didn't interrupt, looking on curiously. Once satisfied with his idea, Ethan returned the map to the lawman's glove-box.
"Willin' ta fallah directions ta save this cousin a yers?"
Bo grimaced. "Yeah."
"Ready ta set aside prejudices while yer at it, just fer now?"
"What prejudices?"
Ethan shook his head, moving to his Ford with every intention of leaving them there if necessary. "Just caw tha rest a' yer family ta meet at my place. Davenport an' Sheriff can show ya where it is. I'll be out back."
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