Chapter Fifty Eight:

Monday, November 24, 1997 – Hazzard, GA – Three days before Thanksgiving

Bo and Luke were driving back to the Duke farm from town in the General Lee with a part for Uncle Jesse's aging tractor. Bo was still trying to decide if he wanted to follow the pro-circuit for the upcoming racing season. And Luke had told Uncle Jesse he was taking another breather from smoke jumping for the U.S. Forest Service when, in fact, he had some decisions he needed to make about his future – life altering kinds of decisions.


The kitchen of the Duke farm was filled with the warm, comforting smells of pumpkin and spice. Doctor Daisy Duke's thoughts turned once again to Enos as she busied herself making the pies sold during the weekend bake sale to benefit the Hazzard County Children's Home.

Uncle Jesse walked over to the stove and sniffed. "Daisy, don't you think you better check the oven? I think them pies might be done."

"Oh, Lordy. I was day dreaming," she said, grabbing the potholders and quickly flipping open the oven door. "Whew. Saved 'em just in time. Thanks, Uncle Jesse."

She put the pies on the cooling rack and wiped her forehead with the back of her arm.

"You been doin' a lot of that ever since you got back from Los Angeles. And you still haven't said what went on out there between you and Enos. Or why I shouldn't say nothin' about you bein' there to anybody else."

She stirred a touch of allspice into the bowl filled with orange batter. "Just not ready to talk about it yet."

Jesse wanted to say something about Rosco's car being camped out at the end of the road every night for a week after she got home, but he held his tongue.

"You're a grown woman and you have a right to your privacy, but you been doin' more'n daydreamin.' Seems more like worryin' to me."

"Of course I worry about him. He has a dangerous...," she said, realizing only after the words were out that she had revealed something unintended. She knew Uncle Jesse's mind was working out what she didn't finish.

She put a spoon in the batter and tasted it. "Uncle Jesse, could you hand me the cinnamon? I think it needs a tad more."

Jesse handed her the spice and said, "Okay, Daisy. If that's the way you want it, I won't ask." Then he opened the pantry and took out a loaf of bread. "Think I'll make some sandwiches for lunch. Bo and Luke oughta' be back soon with that part an' if we don't feed them boys somethin' you're gonna' come up missin' some pies."

Daisy had been avoiding a lot of Uncle Jesse's direct questions lately and she'd gotten better at it with practice, but she reminded herself to be more diligent about revealing certain information, especially the privileged kind, in the future.

"Oh, and Uncle Jesse, I hope you don't mind, but I asked Annie Poe for Thanksgiving."

"Course I don't mind, Daisy. You know, I think Bo's kinda sweet on her. About time his taste in women started changin' for the better."


"You know," Bo said, as he took the next hill with a bounce that almost sent Luke into the headliner, "you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"I know, and I don't intend to either."

"But you know you'll feel better if you get it off your chest."

"Bo, I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, okay. Just tryin' to lend my experienced opinion."

"You ain't got experience in this, so butt out."

Luke had taken Daisy's advice and told Sophie how he felt. And how scared he was. But he hadn't been able to bring the hammer down on that commitment, that responsibility. Before he came back to Hazzard for the holidays, Sophie had given him an ultimatum. She had her children to think of and if he couldn't stand up and make a decision about them, then he should just not come around anymore. So he had come home to think about it. To decide if his fear that he was just second choice for her or that she couldn't love him as much as she had loved her husband, or if he could not be the father to her kids that they needed…

"Aren't we touchy today?"

Just then Luke yelled, "Truck!" and Bo swerved to miss the slow moving pickup Alvin Dobbins used for his UPS deliveries.

Alvin waved as the General Lee passed and yelled after them, "Welcome home, boys, see ya'll in a little while."

"What'd he say?" Bo asked Luke.

"I dunno. Couldn't hear it over the General."

"Ye-haaa," Bo yelled and took the next turn at ninety.

After leaving Alvin in their dust, Bo had the General Lee so revved up that they missed Sheriff Rosco's cruiser parked behind some thicket. By the time they registered the fact that they had seen him, the General Lee was an orange blur.

"Uh oh," Luke said. "Home one day and Rosco's already after our hides."

Bo floored the accelerator but Luke noticed after a few seconds that Rosco's car had not come out of where it had been parked.

"That's weird," said Luke. "You reckon he's okay? Maybe we ought to go back and check."

"Are you crazy?"

"No, I'm not crazy. Rosco's not a spring chicken anymore, maybe he had a heart attack or somethin'."

By the time they had turned the car around and reached the hidey-hole where Rosco had secreted himself, Rosco's car was gone.

"Looks like he's alive and kickin'" said Bo. "Let's go. Uncle Jesse and Daisy probably have lunch ate and are puttin' away the leftovers by now. I'm starved."

"You just want to sample some of them pumpkin pies Daisy's bakin.'"

"Yeah, maybe," Bo said, smiling from ear to ear. "Hey, Daisy seem a little off to you since we been home?"

"We only been home one day, Bo. But now you mention it, yeah, a little," Luke said, then braced for the jerk he knew would be coming when Bo put the General Lee into hyper-drive.


Rosco P. Coltrane, having left Flash in the car comfortably snoozing on the Los Angeles Times, shook off the late November chill as he stood on the porch of the Duke house, horrendously distraught about knocking on the door. He procrastinated by dusting off the gaudy, tasseled epaulets on his shoulders and straightening his gun holster for the third time. Rosco would rather cut off his right arm than to ask the Dukes for anything. But he knew Daisy was home and if anyone knew about Enos, it would be her. She'd probably kill him for it, but he was beside himself. He had set in his car in the speed trap, discussing the pros and cons with Flash for nearly twenty minutes.

Finally, he decided he had to do something and knocked.

"Oh, it's you," Jesse said through the screened door. "What do you want, Rosco?" He eyed Rosco suspiciously.

"That'll be Sheriff or Boss Rosco to you," Rosco said, purely out of habit.

"What d'ya want Sheriff Rosco?"

"Now, Uncle Jesse, I'm not here to make trouble. Can I come in?"

"I ain't your Uncle. But I guess you can come in."

Knowing nothing good could come of it, Jesse opened the door wider to let Rosco through. He didn't know exactly what Rosco and Daisy had had their heads together about over the last six months, but he knew Rosco coming to call wasn't a portent of something good in any case.

When he was inside, they heard the General skid to a dusty stop in front of the house. Luke and Bo burst through the door, both talking at once, and demanded to know what the Sam hill he wanted. Uncle Jesse put up his hand to stay the onslaught.

"Well, say what you got to say, Sheriff. We got lunch ready," Jesse said.

"Now, Jesse, like I said, I'm not here to make any trouble. In fact…I…I'm here cause…well…I'm here cause I think a mutual friend of ours is in trouble. At least I'm afraid he is."

"You got no friends, Rosco, mutual or otherwise, sides Boss Hogg and he's been gone three years."

"Well, I do too. He calls me once a month just to say hey and catch up on all the Hazzard gossip…septin' that first month…" Rosco's voice trailed off and then picked back up again, "…and he sends me a Christmas present every year… last year he sent Flash one o' them boo-teek gourmet bones and he sent me a cap personally autographed by Bruce Willis, cause he was a technical advisor on that movie and all…an…an he…"

"You talkin' about Enos Strate?" Luke interjected.

"Course I was talkin' about Enos. Who else you think I know in Los Angeles?"

"You didn't say the friend you was talkin' about was from…Wait, Enos calls you every month?" Bo said incredulously, looking at Luke.

"Yes, he does, he calls me every month without fail, 'cause he's a true and loyal friend, not like the rest of you Dukes."

Rosco smelled the fragrance of baking pumpkin and reckoned Daisy was in the kitchen listening. With Daisy in the house, he didn't dare divulge all the reasons he was talking to Enos every month, who he had picked up from the airport or the phone call, rather instructions, he'd received, from his former deputy three weeks ago.

"Rosco, you know Enos ain't really a Duke, right?" asked Luke, tempted to snap his fingers in front of Rosco to wake him from his trance.

"Well, he might as well be. All the times he circumvented me when he was a Deputy to keep your onry law breakin' hides outta' jail."

"Circumvented…That's a pretty big word Rosco, you think you might need to take a rest after strainin' your brain so much?" Bo said, turning to Luke. "But, he's right, Luke, Enos did save our collective bacon more'n a few times."

"Now ya'll are funnin' an' I'm bein' dead serious."

"You aren't funnin' are you?" asked Luke. The look on Rosco's face confirmed it.

"You heard from him?" Rosco asked the group.

"I haven't heard from him," Bo said, "You Luke?"

"No, haven't talked to Enos in more than six months."

Uncle Jesse just shook his head, although he knew that Daisy had talked to Enos.

Daisy left the kitchen and appeared in the parlor. "Why do you think Enos is in trouble, Rosco?" she asked him, with undisguised concern in her voice. Images of the last time she had seen Enos in L.A. flashed through her mind.

"Oh, hey, Daisy. I saw your motorcycle out there, figured you were here. Pies smell good." Rosco looked as if he was struggling to get it out. "You haven't by any chance heard from Enos have ya'?"

"Rosco! Are we gonna have to snatch you bald headed to get it out of you?" Uncle Jesse said, trying to redirect the conversation.

"Well," Rosco said, "he didn't call me on my birthday and he calls me every year for the last eleven years…'cept this year."

That sounded feeble even to Rosco. It was not exactly the truth but not exactly a lie either. He just couldn't think of anything else that he could use as an excuse for being worried without revealing even what little he knew about what was going on out in L.A and how worried Enos was that it would spill over into Hazzard. Enos had called him nearly every day in the last three weeks. Then it was radio silence since Wednesday. Rosco was worried even though the dipstick had told him he'd be out of pocket for a few days.

"Your birthday was only two days ago. He probably just got busy. Why are you all of a sudden gettin' worried?" asked Luke.

"Cause…Cause when he didn't call, I tried to call him after I knew he'd be off-duty, and there's no answer at that itty-bitty place he calls an apartment – just keeps goin' to the answer machine. And he hasn't returned any o' the messages I left."

"Well, that doesn't mean anything," Luke said. "Weren't you the one who told us last Christmas he does a lot of volunteer work, especially around the holidays."

"I called that community center and talked to some volunteer that said Enos got a substitute to fill in for him for the next couple of months. That was a week ago an' they haven't seen hide nor hair o' him since."

"Well, just call that Metro station he works out of and find out what's goin' on."

"You don't think I already tried that?" Rosco said, grinding his teeth and grumbling the way only Rosco P. Coltrane could. "Didn't do no good. I just got some paper pusher tellin' me they don't give out information about LAPD personnel."

"Hey, Daisy, you still got Turk's number?" Luke asked.

Daisy didn't get a chance to answer. Rosco turned his attention to Bo, Luke and Jesse. "I don't think that's gonna do no good. Turk's headin' up a narcotics task force. No tellin' where he's at…an' Enos…well, he ain't exactly at Metro anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Luke.

"He still works with Metro. It's just that detectives, they have their own division."

"Enos made detective? When did that happen?" Luke was confused.

"Passed his exam more'n a year ago."

"A year. You mean he had his detective badge when he came back to the reunion? Why didn't he say anything?" asked Bo.

"Well, now that's the part that's a little hard to explain. I'm thinkin' it was gonna be a surprise, you know, for after the weddin'…" Since he was treading in dangerous territory, Rosco avoided eye contact with Daisy – he knew she knew that Enos was a detective. "After everything that happened at the reunion an all…" Rosco hem hawed by playing with the brim of his hat. "I only found out…well, it don't matter how I found…he made me promise not to say anything, not even to his folks."

Silence. Especially in Daisy who was still replaying images of fiery crashes, trauma units, and bloody clothes in her head.

"That boy's been hidin' his light under a bushel basket since he was knee high to a grasshopper," said Uncle Jesse finally.

Rosco thought, 'Ya'll don't even know the half of it.'

"See, that's what I'm talkin' about. You know what I think, I think they got him undercover." Rosco said. "That's what I think. An' that boy's not made for undercover work, no sir – he's too honest for one thing. He might be able to keep secrets, but he can't tell a bare faced lie to save his pea pickin' soul. And that's a fact."

"Undercover. Rosco, you don't know what you're takin' about," said Luke.

"There's not any other explanation for it," Rosco said. Finally, he looked at Daisy.

"Be that as it may," said Uncle Jesse, "we can't go interferin' in LAPD business. And, Sheriff or no Sheriff, neither can you."

"What if something terrible happened to him and they can't tell anyone until they tell his folks..." Daisy said, dropping onto the chair next to the phone with a sudden intake of air that she couldn't seem to exhale. "You said it yourself, Luke. Enos isn't really a Duke."

Her voice became faint and distant. "We're not – family."

His 'family' was in L.A. She knew now that Enos had listed Turk as first contact for notification, and that might have changed since...She could only hope that Kay would notify them and since neither she nor Inez had called, there was still hope.

Then, Rosco did something contrary to everything anyone in the room expected and he moved to stand by Daisy's side. When he put his hand on her shoulder and patted it gently, she reached up, took hold and squeezed. Being their secret keeper had been exhausting for poor old Rosco.

Daisy and Rosco both nearly jumped out of their skins when the phone rang next to her.

Luke picked up the receiver. "Cooter Davenport, how are ya? Haven't talked to you in a coon's age." After a few seconds Luke's smile flattened and he held out the phone, "Daisy, he wants to talk to you."

"Ya see," Rosco whispered, "I called Cooter when I couldn't get anything outta the LAPD. I figured they couldn't give a Congressman the run around."

Jesse looked at Rosco like he had two heads. "Put it on speaker, honey, so we can all hear."

After getting the okay from Daisy, Luke pressed the speaker button.

"Hey, Cooter." Daisy was barely able to get those two words out.

"Hey, Daisy. How you been, darlin'?"

Rosco, Bo, Luke and Jesse all started to talk at once. Uncle Jesse played the patriarch card and won the toss. "Daisy's just fine, Cooter. You callin' to say hey to everybody for Thanksgivin' or is there somethin' else on your mind?"

"Cooter, has something happened to Enos?" Daisy asked. Her heart was pounding. She was as scared as she had been walking through the corridors of the trauma unit at Cedars.

"Dang you, Rosco. Now Daisy, don't get all worked up. He's alright."

"Cooter, you wouldn't be shinin' us on to spare us or…"

"Yeah, Daisy, I'm sure."

"Rosco, you scared the livin' daylights out of me!"

Daisy sighed with relief and punched Rosco twice in the arm as hard as she could, hard enough that he winced and started rubbing it. But he was so grateful the dipstick was okay, considering what he knew, he didn't protest.

Luke leaned in and asked, "So Cooter, why won't the LAPD tell Sheriff Rosco anything?"

"Cause it's a hard and fast policy they take real serious. Somethin' the Sheriff ought to know." Cooter said. "Ya'll got no idea how many crank calls and downright threats they get on a daily basis. A healthy dose of paranoia is what keeps those people alive…Besides, I know he's alright because I talked to him myself yesterday afternoon."

"Yesterday?" Rosco blurted out. "Yesterday! Why didn't you tell me that when I talked to you not more'n two hours ago?"

Cooter ignored Rosco's question and instead asked, "Daisy, I take it you haven't got a letter yet? It shoulda' been delivered by now."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Bo went to answer it and found Alvin Dobbins standing on the porch with a cake box sized package in his hand.

"Sorry, ya'll, this was supposed to be delivered early this morning but it got routed to the wrong truck in Capital City, so I didn't get it till this morning an' then, after ya'll passed me I had a flat an' it took me an extra half hour to get back on the road."

Bo reached out for the package.

"It's addressed to Daisy, Bo. I can't give it to just anybody," Alvin said.

"Since when was I just anybody, Alvin? And Daisy's sittin' right there where you can see her."

Alvin saw Daisy and tipped his hat before he handed the box over. It was a little heavier than Bo had expected.

When Bo saw the sender's name, he handed it to Daisy to take and said to the phone, "Cooter, Daisy just got a box. Don't look like a letter. Says it's from Enos, though. Can we call you back?"

"Sure Bo."

"Wait. Cooter, why all the cloak and dagger?" Luke asked before Cooter could hang up.

"There's no cloak and dagger, Luke. Enos asked me to expedite some things for him and I was happy to oblige."

"What things?" Bo and Luke asked in unison.

"Ya'll, he didn't give me leave to say any more. I'm guessin' it's all in the letter. It wasn't supposed to be any big mystery, either. It just never occurred to anybody that Rosco'd go calling everybody on God's green earth and stirrin' up a ruckus. I had a devil of a time convincin' the LAPD that he wasn't some kind of homegrown terrorist."

Meanwhile, Daisy had opened the box and found, on top, a letter addressed simply 'To Daisy.'

Rosco looked sheepish. "Well, why didn't you just tell me that this mornin'?"

"Maybe 'cause they didn't think it was any o' your business," said Uncle Jesse. "Now why don't you just git over there outta the way and let Daisy read her letter."

Rosco was contrite and relieved enough not to complain.


Daisy left her puzzled cousins, a more than concerned uncle, and a fidgety sheriff staring up at her from the bottom of the stairs as she carried the box and the letter up to her room.

Safely tucked away, at least temporarily, from the curiosity of her family, Daisy sat down on the edge of her bed just staring at the box and the envelope on top.

She set the envelope aside. From the slight bulge she knew what was inside. Putting off the inevitable, she drew out the last bundle of un-mailed letters from Enos...all thirty two of them and started to read about...

...the week after Turk came to Hazzard to convince him to go back to L.A., the two weeks after he met Kate, the six weeks after the accident that sent Inez to the ICU and made him uncle to an eleven year old boy, the two weeks he spent back in Hazzard pining over what she had done to her life by marrying L.D., the two weeks after he was shot, the week he made detective...

...the day he picked up the engagement ring and met...her. Daisy wondered if he knew what he had actually written between those lines.

It was only then that she opened the envelope she has set aside.


Leaving the second page of the letter, the ring and the small gift wrapped package that looked very much like a thin book, in the secret cubbyhole of the chifforobe, Daisy took the first page of the letter, the box and the rest of its contents downstairs. Uncle Jesse and her cousins were in the kitchen preparing supper.

"Sorry," she said. "I guess I lost track of time."

"You just never mind worryin' about us, Daisy."

"Thanks, Uncle Jesse," she said, still cradling the box in her arms. "Rosco go back to the station?"

"Nope," said Luke, "he's sinttin' out there on the front porch in the swing. Refuses to leave."

"Maybe he's waitin' ta' be asked for dinner," Bo quipped.

"Then ya'll better make enough, 'cause he's stayin.'" She didn't wait for a reply or a protest and headed out the front door.

"Told you she was actin' weird," Bo said.

"No," Luke replied, "You said she seemed a little off."

"Well, ain't it the same thing?"

"No, it ain't the same thing."

Uncle Jesse held up the wood spoon he was using to stir the beans and shook it at them. "If you two don't stop jawin' and help me git supper ready..."

"Okay, Uncle Jesse," Luke said, swaying out of the way of the spoon, "You can put that thing away, we can take a hint."


Daisy sat down next to Rosco on the swing. He had retrieved Flash from the cruiser and was stroking the ears of the droopy-eyed hound. Daisy put the box down on the porch in front of him, and took Flash onto her lap.

"Oooohh. Be careful, Daisy? Flash is gettin' on up there, ya' know. Gotta be real gentle cuz he's real sensitive. Aren'tcha my..."

"I'll be careful, Rosco," she said, pointing down at the box. "That's for you. For your birthday."

"For me? But I thought he sent that to you."

"Then why'd you wait out here all this time if you didn't think there was somethin' in it for you? Well, aren't you gonna' to open it?"

"Course I'm gonna open it."

He was still eyeing the box suspiciously. Never could tell what that lug nut would do nowadays. Callin' him an' practickly givin' him orders and such...

Still, he gingerly picked it up like it was going to explode with those snakes-in-a-can that fly out and scare the dickens out of you.

Inside, he found a neatly folded LAPD dress uniform blouse with a nametag over the right breast pocket that read "E. Strate' and enough ribbons pinned over the left breast pocket to decorate for the Fourth of July, a ball cap with SWAT emblazoned across the crown, eight medal presentation cases and various citation documents.

He opened the cases one by one and ran his fingers down the ribbons and over the metal medallions dangling from each, lingering over the medal in the largest case.

"Daisy girl. Do you know what this one's for? It's for..."

She put her hand on his and closed the case. "I know what it's for, Rosco." She smiled at him, then put her head on his shoulder and they sat there just like that, swinging slowly, until Bo came out on the porch and called them for supper.

"She is definitely actin' weird," he muttered to himself as he followed them into the house. "Real weird."


Daisy assigned Rosco the seat next to hers, fussing over him like he was royalty and him eating it up, and across from open-mouthed Bo and Luke. Cooter didn't have the market cornered on dumbstruck. Uncle Jesse took his usual seat at the head of the table, somewhat less baffled and trying to be nonchalant but still wondering when they were gonna' be hit with the Paul Harvey moment. He could feel it in his bones.

Daisy pretended not to notice and busied herself setting out the large bowl of crowder peas with ham hocks, a bowl of mashed potatoes, fresh baked bread, and a warm pumpkin pie.

She smiled sweetly and waited until their plates were nearly empty before she said, "I know ya'll are just chompin' at the bit to find out what this is all about..."

All activity related to eating ceased, although Rosco sneaked in one more bite of ham hock. They were listening.

"But first, I have to tell you a story."


After glossing over the confidential information, graphic detail, and downright secrets, and she had finished with tale, the only one at the table who found his voice was Rosco.

"South Koh-reeya! Thunder and tarnation. Always knew there was somethin' wrong with that boy. Has that dipstick done lost his pea pickin' mind? What's he doin' in South Koh-reeya?"

"Probably havin' breakfast with his wife."