Chapter 38


April 19, 1998 – Hazzard

The weather had cleared, sort of. Rain from the night before saturated the ground and left the driveway a muddy mess. Luke often talked about bringing in more crushed rock from the quarry, usually after a heavy rain, but never found enough hours in the day between the planting and his volunteer fireman duties. He'd also promised Sophie he would take Sundays off, at least as much as was possible on a working farm.

As Luke pulled the truck into the yard, Caleb caught Emily before she could unbuckle her seatbelt.

"Hold your horses, Em. The truck hasn't even stopped yet. Mom, tell Emily to stop squirming."

"Em, settle down and keep that seatbelt on until we stop."

"But I wanna go see the new baby goats."

"They're called 'kids,' brainless."

"Caleb," Luke warned.

Sophie peered over her shoulder into the back seat and lowered her brows. "Quit being ugly to your sister."

The boy crossed his arms over his chest in a huff that reminded her of Luke when he wanted to look put-out. Caleb would never admit to it, but he had begun to mimic a few of Luke's mannerisms.

When the truck was parked, Sophie smiled at Emily. "Okay, Em, you can get out now."

Free of restraint, Emily attacked the door handle. Luke hurried to help her from the seat before she could jump into the mud.

"But change into your play clothes first, young lady."

"Yes, Ma'am." Emily leaped into Luke's arms, then stuck her tongue out at her brother.

"Mom?!"

"Nevermind, Caleb, just go in and change. And mind the mud puddles."

As soon as Luke deposited Em safely on the back porch, she shot into the house, whizzed past Daisy, and ran up the stairs to her room. A few seconds later, Caleb stomped into his room and closed the door behind him.

Sophie declared, "I swear, she's getting wilder by the day."

"Reminds me of Daisy when she was that age. Loved to play with the baby goats."

"They're called 'kids,'" she said, mimicking Caleb.

"So, I hear." Luke smiled and leaned over to sneak in a quick kiss.

When Luke and Sophie came in the back door, Daisy beamed a smile at her cousin and said, "I see it's a typical Sunday at the Dukes."


While Emily and Caleb donned their mud boots on the front porch steps, Caleb looked up to see vehicles coming up the road.

"Hey, Mom, Luke, we're about to get company!" He yelled into the house.

Through the parlor window, Daisy watched Bo and Annie pulling up to the front porch in Uncle Jesse's Ford pickup, followed by Rosco's patrol car close on their tail.

Luke stood on the porch, looking much like Caleb had earlier when the truck and the Sheriff's car stopped at the bottom of the front steps. He expected Bo to be out of the car by then, but he and Annie appeared to be engaging in an intimate discussion he was reluctant to get in the middle of.

Caleb had run around to the passenger side and was peering into the cruiser's front seat. The only thing he found was a shopping bag full of dog biscuits, a bottle of fancy-looking champagne chilling in a foam ice chest, and a black Stetson.

"Hey, Sheriff Coltrane," he said, pulling his head out of the window, "where's your dog?"

"Just never you mind where Flash III is, this is serious sheriff's business. Now, you get on and leave us menfolk to talk."

"Rosco, you got no call to talk to my...to talk to Caleb that way. This is his home, you're the one showed up without a proper invite."

"You just choke your engine down a notch, Luke Duke, b'fore I arrest you for interferin' with an officer of the law." Rosco narrowed his eyes and stuck out his chin.

Luke assumed his you-and-what-army stance. "You gotta be kiddin' me."

"He's not kiddin'." Bo and Annie had approached from behind while Luke was squaring off with Rosco.

That was when Luke noticed Rosco was missing the gold tasseled epaulets, the braid, the gold lamé neck scarf, and the riding crop.

Daisy and Sophie had made their way onto the porch. "Caleb, get your sister, and ya'll go on out to the barn. Please," Sophie said, understanding the nine-year-old would resist not being included.

When they were safely out of earshot, Luke asked whoever would tell him, "What's this all about?"


"Turk's in Atlanta?" Daisy asked. The last she'd heard from him was after the operation in Turkey when he called to tell her Annie's sister was safe. "Why would J…Turk…call you first?"

"'Cause it's about oh-fficial police business. See...he's meetin' with Special Agent Johnson, you know from the Georgia Bureau–"

"We know who she is, Rosco," Luke said. Reminders their landline was tapped stuck in his craw. He'd been tempted more than once in the past few weeks to take Bo's approach and rip the damn thing out.

Bo cautioned, "Let him finish." Since Rosco showed up at Annie's and interrupted them in the process of 'making up,' Bo had tried to pry the story out of him, but he was as closed-mouthed as a cat after it swallowed the canary.

"Well, anyway," Rosco continued, wary of Luke, "Turk said after he meets with the GBI he's gonna' be headed to Hazzard. Says he needs to talk to us, and he didn't want to have to run all over the county."

If Rosco had his druthers, he'd have been sitting all cozy-like next to Sarah Jane Bascom sipping French champagne right now. Turk's call had interrupted a juncture in his serious courting plans. If Enos Strate could do it, so could he. Rosco didn't want to die a cantankerous, lonely old least, he didn't want to die a lonely one.

"What's Turk got to talk to us about? What about not drawin' attention?" Bo asked, setting his jaw, his Adam's apple bobbing like a cork.

"I asked him, but he wouldn't tell me a dad-gum thing. But, from the sound of it, I got a feelin' in my bones somethin's up, and it's none too good."


The sky, gray for the past hour, had gone greenish before hail began peppering the roof. The sound was so loud, Turk could barely hear what Daisy was saying as he watched marble-sized ice balls bouncing on the ground like popping corn. He'd driven through the pea-sized version for the last five miles and just made it into the house from the rental car before the big stuff reigned down.

"Hope you took out the insurance!" Daisy shouted, then heard herself loud and clear when the intensity of the popping decreased. "Car seems okay, though."

"Yeah, and I'm okay too," Turk said, taking a feigned offense.

She flashed her sweetest Daisy-smile then handed him a towel she'd grabbed from the freshly folded laundry.

"Don't be such a baby, Jay. I happen to know you have hail in southern California."

"Every twenty years or so. When I was here before in April, the weather was perfect."

"Welcome to Georgia, Sugar."

Luke stood behind them, wondering, '...Jay?'

"I hate to interrupt this little confab," he said, "but you told Rosco you needed to talk to us."

"Where are your kids?" Turk asked.

"Sophie sent them upstairs."


Turk's news sat with the Dukes about as he expected – not well. Not well at all. The only good thing that came out of it was his suggestion they disable the tap.

That Joseph Lance was as crooked as a dog's hind legs and probably three gallons of crazy in a two-gallon bucket was evident to both Bo and Luke. Daisy being a target because of Darcy Kincaid – that was a harder pill for them to swallow. And, as yet, Turk hadn't given them the full story on why they believed Lance had abducted Inez De Pina.

Standing on the back porch, Turk could see the storm moving swiftly away, being sucked in a northeasterly direction away from Atlanta.

'Both flights should arrive on-time,' he thought.

While he contemplated how to tell Enos about the package the FBI had received the previous afternoon, Daisy quietly walked onto the porch and stood beside him.

"Jay, you don't still think I killed Darcy, do you?" Her voice trembled, as did her hand when he took it.

Turk continued to look out toward the northeast and the disappearing storm clouds.

"No." He said it with enough certainty to make her exhale in relief. "You know who did, though."

"Like I said before, there's nothing in this Universe that will ever make me tell you or anyone else." Daisy planned to take that knowledge with her to the grave.

"It wasn't–"

"Of course not. How could you even…?" She stopped herself after thinking of all the ways she had failed to understand the real Enos Strate. "No, it wasn't."

This time, Turk exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Why would this Lance guy kidnap Inez? Did she find out who he was, like Kate?"

"Possibly. It's a little more complicated than that."

"Is that cop-speak for 'that's for me to know and you to find out'?"

"...Daze, I'm not trying to keep anything from you or your family they need to know right now. But there's a time for that, and this isn't it." He wrapped his fingers around her hand a little tighter and looked down at her with amber-brown eyes and a pained smile.

"Does Aaron know about his mother?"

From the short conversation he'd had with Aaron on the phone that morning, he had a sinking feeling the kid knew everything.

"That's why I have to head back to Atlanta in a couple of hours. His plane is coming in before Enos and Kate's flight. And when they land in Newark to change planes, I'm probably going to get a call from Enos. He's been in the air for so long, he doesn't know why they're being rerouted."

"You want me to go with you?"

"Wanting and having what you want isn't quite the same, Daisy. You need to stay here. From what I know about Bo and Luke, they can keep you safer than I can right now. But we do need to talk before I leave. It's a sure thing you're going to hear more than any of you ever wanted to know pretty soon, I'm afraid. I think you should be prepared. Rosco and Emma collecting up a few gossip rags ain't gonna' cut it this time."

A tingling sensation ran from the top of her spine down through her toes as the shuddering overtook her.

"Is it safe enough for us to take a walk down by the stream?" she asked.

"Yeah, I think we could do that."

April 19, 1998 – Newark, Newark International

Enos sat uneasily, hunched over in the seat of the VIP lounge with his mobile phone pressed against his ear. Kate and the air marshall had afforded him as much space as feasible for his phone call with Turk Adams. Ledger had minimal information about what was transpiring, and Kate could only make an educated guess. It was excruciating for them both to watch helplessly as he nearly folded in on himself.

"I understand…Okay…Yeah, I'm okay. I'll see you in a few hours."

If the plane had been delayed for more than fifteen minutes, Ledger thought the man from Interpol might literally jump out of his own skin.

April 19, 1998 – Hazzard

"I am not bein' selfish," Bo said. He took Annie by both arms and held her facing him. They'd just made up; he wasn't about to go bassackwards. "And you're barkin' up the wrong tree. 'Cause I swear to you on Uncle Jesse's grave, I'm not jealous of Kate. Annie. My sweet Annie, I don't want to see you get hurt again. I'm tryin' to protect you."

"By not telling me Kate's been rescued until a few hours ago? And not telling me she's on her way home!"

More than anything, Bo wanted to be able to make peace with the mess Kate had made, but the more Annie told him about her, the less he understood. He'd made a pact with himself to hold his tongue, but it was hard, and he'd been wrestling with his resentment for Kate since he found out about her.

"By not gettin' your hopes up that you're gonna be able to see her. I know how much you love her. Don't matter what Luke or Daisy did, I'd still love them. And I didn't know anything about Enos bringin' her back. You heard Turk, they're keeping her under wraps until they can sort all this mess out with Enos's old partner and that Detective Lane."

"Lance"

"Whatever his name is. Doesn't matter. I want to be with you more than anything. I love you, Annie! I want to marry you…for better or for worse. And I can't think of much worse."

"And if I have to relocate?"

"Then…I'll go with you." Bo was afraid his hesitation might signal he wasn't sincere, but he hadn't talked to Luke about the possibility yet.

"And what would Uncle Jesse say about you leaving your family?"

"He'd say I should do what my heart tells me to do. We all left at one time or another. Don't mean we've left the family."

"It wouldn't be the same, and you know it."

"Still don't matter. Whatever we have to do, we do it together."

"You're right, Bo, it doesn't matter. Because even though you can be a thick-headed jackass sometimes, I love you. So if you really want to marry me..."

"Oh, Annie, I do. I told you. I love you more than anything or anybody I've ever loved in my whole life."

"More than that stupid orange car?"

"Even more than that," he laughed.

Moving his hand behind her head, he pulled her mouth to his. With her arms around his neck, they fell onto his bed, intending to finish what Rosco had interrupted.

"We belong together," he whispered.

"I know…I love you. But I can't do this anymore."

"Can't do...what anymore?" He sprung up like Aunt Lavinia had caught them and pulled out her switch.

"I can't hide anymore. I don't want to hide anymore. If you really want to marry me, then it has to be out in the open for the whole world to see…as Mignon Broussard."

"I can do that. But you don't mind if I still call you Annie, do you? I kind of got used to it, and it seems to suit you better."

"No, Bo, I don't mind."

"I'm sorry I've been such a knothead lately. I've just been…so scared of losin' you."

"I know," she said, brushing her hands through the hair falling over his forehead.

"So, you're not mad at me anymore?"

"Only if you promise to stop being mad at Katie. After all, if it wasn't for her, Enos wouldn't have brought me to Hazzard County in the first place."


Daisy and Turk stood beside his rental car, a little too close for Luke's comfort. Watching them from Emily's second-floor bedroom window, he said, "Those two look thicker 'n thieves."

"Told you something was brewing there," Sophie said, while she reluctantly folded Emily's pajamas into her aqua unicorn backpack.

The image of Daisy flying off to LA at the drop of a hat to explore her relationship with Enos hit him like a foul ball. Enos Strate and Turk Adams were both cops, through and through. Luke already had a bone to pick with one of them. The other had earned his resentment through guilt by association.

"That's not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be funny." She flipped up her brows with a stare that signaled he had better take her seriously. The debate over whether or not she and the kids should be packed off to Sarah Jane's house with Rosco had not gone her way...so far.

When Turk's car was beyond the fenceline, and Daisy headed into the house, Luke had started toward the landing when Sophie stopped him.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To get Bo and Annie out of Caleb's room so he can pack."

"Oh no you don't, Luke Duke. You stay right here until they're finished talking this out. Rosco can wait."

"The sheriff doesn't have to wait for us. We're not going."

Luke and Sophie had been so intent on each other, neither noticed Caleb standing at the threshold. Luke spun around and knelt in front of the boy.

"Your Mom and I think it would be best if she takes you and your sister away from the farm, just 'til we can sort some things out."

"Em's scared. She doesn't want to leave."

Emily appeared beside him, a sweater tightly clutched in her left hand, her right holding Caleb's arm in a death grip. Luke's heart dropped into his stomach when he saw the pitiful look on Emily's face.

"You make us leave, she's just gonna' be more scared," Caleb declared in as grown-up a voice as he could manage.

How many times at nearly the same age had Luke begged to be allowed to go on shine runs with Uncle Jessie?

Luke looked to Sophie for support but found none. "Caleb, it's hard to explain. If anything hap–"

"I'm nine, Luke, not stupid. I know what's going on. A Duke's in trouble and Dukes stick together. Isn't that what you're always saying? If you make us leave, does that mean we're not Dukes?"


The storms had passed, and none were expected over the next week. Daylight was waning into the sunset—light passing through the bay window spread into the room with a tangerine glow. It was warm and comforting–and all too calm.

No one was surprised when Luke announced that his wife and kids would be staying at the farm. Least of all, Bo, who'd sided with Sophie in the first place about sticking together. Luke took that with a grain of salt, thinking Bo was most likely trying to make points with Annie because she'd decided where she wanted to dig her foxhole.

Although discouraged, Rosco accepted the news without protest. His disappointment stemmed from a desire to reinforce Sarah Jane's notion he had a responsible side by taking the kids under his wing. Ironic that she, Daisy Duke, and his sister Lulu were the only people in Hazzard who thought he had one. In truth, he'd become, much to his own surprise, attached to the little rug rats now residing at the Duke farm, especially the boy.

When Caleb skipped school one day a couple of months back, Rosco had found him at the old cotton mill checking out the spinning and weaving equipment left behind when the place closed. Boy was a natural-born tinkerer if ever he saw one. They'd both spent the rest of the school day playing hooky.

"You should stay for supper, Rosco," Daisy said, lavishing him with attention as she had done for the last few months.

Luke and Bo both still scratched their heads at Team Daisy-and-Rosco. It was a bum-fuzzling glitch in the matrix that was Hazzard.

"Thanks, Daisy, but I think I need to take a raincheck on that. I got a call from the State Police while ya'll were upstairs," he said to Bo and Luke, in no particular order. "They're settin' up roadblocks at all the major roads into Hazzard County."

"What about the backroads? There's twenty at least and more than that of old ridge runner roads," Bo said, leaning on the back of Annie's chair.

"We got that covered. Take care of you and yours. I'll take care of the rest of the county. Now, I gotta go."

Daisy took his arm and said, "I'll walk you out."

When they reached Rosco's patrol car, she said, "I need to let Uncle Frank and Aunt Judy know they'll likely have company tonight. And, I thought since you don't have to take the kids to Sarah Jane's, it might be better comin' from you."

"I'll take care of it. Not sure how I'm gonna' explain it or how much I should tell um, though."

Daisy had to admit she'd faced the same dilemma.

He opened the door, then turned back to her, "You be careful, Daisy girl, you hear? If anything ever happened to you on my watch, Enos...well, the dipstick'd never speak to me again." He stared at his boots. "…an' I wouldn't be any too happy about it neither. B'sides, sounds like he has enough crap on his cracker."

"I know, Rosco, I'll be careful," she said and planted a kiss on his cheek.

April 19, 1998 – Atlanta

Aaron handled the questions thrown at him by Special Agent Johnson as well as a nineteen-year-old could, or should be expected to. He'd been raised by cops. Navigating challenging situations and being acutely aware of the dangers of the job was ingrained. It was only when Enos walked into the security office at Hartsfield- Jackson ahead of Kate and FBI Agent Stewart that his composure faltered.

"Dad!" Aaron spurted out as he practically hurled himself into Enos's arms.

Enos drew him into a tight hug and waived Kate and Turk off when they saw him wince. Turk hadn't provided Aaron with any details of the operation in Turkey, so he wasn't aware of the bandaged, relatively fresh wound on Enos's left bicep.

Stewart and Johnson gave them as much time as they could, then reminded Turk of the need to get back to the business at hand, i.e. getting Kate Broussard proper medical attention then to a safe house and locating Joseph Lance and Inez De Pina.

After releasing Aaron to Enos and Turk, as representatives of Interpol and the Los Angeles Police Department, respectively, Kate was escorted to Grady Memorial Hospital by Tim Stewart. Kate was hesitant to leave the safety of Enos's protection until he assured her he and Agent Stewart had worked together before when he was a Sheriff's Deputy. To Enos, it seemed less like twelve years and more like an eternity ago.


Enos and Aaron wanted to stay in Atlanta to be close to the investigation. Turk persuaded him otherwise by laying out the facts they had uncovered so far.

"Mallory lobbied for his unit to be point on the investigation, with Thompson as lead Detective," Turk said. "Major Crimes had no alternative but to stand down since Lance is one of their own. I wouldn't be surprised if they're all under intense scrutiny at the moment."

"You mentioned on the phone there might be some new developments," Enos said, looking through the case file Turk had given him.

"Maybe, when they've finished going through Lance's apartment. His car was found only a few hours ago."

"Says here Lazzaro keeps a plane at an airport in Las Vegas."

"Which is no longer there," Turk said. "LVPD is trying to get some information out of the hangar crew, but so far, they haven't given up anything to confirm Lance or Inez were on the plane when it took off. But here's something interesting. Under a bunch of shell corporations, Lazzaro also owns a hangar at Partridge Field at the Finchburg City Airport and several in other states: Missouri, North Dakota, New Mexico, Oklahoma."

Enos mapped the states in his head, beginning at LA – to Las Vegas – to New Mexico – to Oklahoma.

"It's not a stretch to think he might be headed this direction…But what connection does he have to Niki Lazzaro?"

Enos was still struggling with why Lance had abducted Inez.

"Well, that's the million-dollar question. And Thompson found the answer when he got a warrant for Lance's safe deposit box…which contained, among other informative items, Lance's birth certificate."


After Turk had given him a rundown of the picture Thompson had puzzled together, Enos was ready to go to Hazzard. When they reached the county line and passed through the State Police checkpoint, Aaron pulled a letter from his coat pocket and handed it to Enos.

"Mom wrote me this letter three days ago…"

Enos was hesitant to take it at first, but Aaron's expression convinced him he should. The letter wasn't a long one, and Enos was a little overwhelmed by what she had written. It began with, 'This is not going to be easy to hear…'

It went on to give an account of what Aaron's father had done and the evidence she had on Lazzaro that would be in the hands of the FBI 'by the time you read this…'

It ended with, '…you have your Uncle E to rely on. He is a good man who loves you. And I know you love him. Return the necklace to E and tell him he is the second-best thing that ever happened in my life.'

Aaron turned the envelope upside down over his palm. Out of it fell a gold chain with a Star of David pendant. Enos had given it to her to commemorate Aaron's Bar Mitzvah when he was thirteen.

April 20, 1998 – Hazzard

Long before sunrise, an umbrella of stars dotted the sky, and the only sound in the hills of North Georgia was the constant pulsating drone of insects. Crickets played the same nocturnal symphony in South Korea. Although it might require a bank loan to pay for the international charges, Enos was counting the minutes until he could call Soonie again for the third time since his plane landed in Atlanta.

Behind him, Judy Strate stood looking through the mesh of the screen door with a steaming mug in her hand, debating whether or not she should disturb the balance between her nephew and the night.

Enos's aunt was a tall thin, soft-spoken woman with only slightly graying hair. She looked younger than her sixty-nine years but not because she tried. Judith Huckabee came from people who lived simply, read the Good Book, had straight-laced upbringings, and repudiated the imbibing of alcohol in all its forms and manifestations. Marrying into a moonshiner family fifty years ago had ostracized her from her own kin but never from her roots. Because he loved her to distraction, Frank gave up the shine business when they got married. She persevered within the Strate family and its penchant for running stills, as well as from the law. She and Frank had not been blessed with children of their own. When Frank's brother Otis died, they suddenly found themselves the guardians of his teenage son.

The screen door creaked a little when she pushed it open, and the smell of fresh coffee slid with the night breeze in his direction. He moved the phone to his left side. Judy sat beside him on the top step in the dim light emanating from the window's small table lamp.

Handing him the mug, she said, "I reckon you still like it with plenty of cream and sugar?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he said and took the coffee. "Lots of things've changed in my life in the last year, but that's not one of um."

"Some changes appear to go deeper'n others."

"I still have my Georgia twang."

"People in Korea might think that, but you and that boy both sound like California."

"Thank you for lettin' us stay here. Aaron needs to be somewhere people can't get to him."

That lieutenant friend of Enos's had warned them that news reporters might try to get access to Aaron. Judy felt in her bones there must be a deeper, more ominous reason to get Aaron out of Atlanta, but she decided not to explore it. 'Better is the end of a thing than its beginning, and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit,' she thought. 39

"This is your home, Nephew. We're the ones should be thankin' you."

"My name might be on the deed, Aunt Judy, but this is your home. Yours and Uncle Frank's. Mine is seven thousand miles away with my family." If Enos could wish himself anywhere right now, it would be back in the small house with the funny looking roof in Goyang-si.

"It's a right nice family you have."

He smiled for the first time since his arrival while he drew the finger with Soonie's ring into his left palm and surrounded it with his right as if embracing her.

"I know you and me haddin' always seen eye to eye on some things," she said, regretfully, "maybe lots of things, but me and your Uncle Frank, we've always been proud of you."

"That…means a lot." He'd said it with sincerity but was most grateful his aunt and uncle had not asked a lot of questions.

Before pouring the coffee, Judy had checked on the boy her nephew brought with him. Aaron had fallen asleep at last. From what she and Frank gleaned of the situation, it was not likely to be a restful slumber.

"The boy, Aaron. You been close for a long time?"

"Since he was eleven."

"Close to his mama too, looks like."

"Yes, Ma'am. We've been through a lot together."

"And she's in bad trouble?"

All he could do was nod his head.

"Awful lot for a boy his age to be tryin' to handle, but I reckon you know a bit about that."

Enos nodded again, then looked at his watch. Two in the morning in Hazzard County. Five in the afternoon in the R.O.K. Soonie would be back from her twenty-two-week checkup, and Mizz Baek would have Gem fed.

Frank appeared at the door. "Man needs some privacy, Judy. Best let him be for a while."


A few miles from the Strate farm, Daisy lay awake at 4:00 am, listening to the same musical recitation of insects. Sliding from under the covers so as not to awaken Annie sleeping next to her, she tiptoed downstairs. Emily had slept with Sophie. Luke and Bo had taken the twin beds in Caleb's room downstairs. They'd retrieved the rollaway bed from the attic for Caleb because he insisted he was old enough to help protect the family – and Luke was too overwhelmed by it to refuse.

Turk had been sitting vigil in rotation between the front and back porch throughout the night, the same watch he would keep for several nights to come. The sight of him sitting there with his shoulder holster and Baretta under his leather jacket brought home to the Duke household how serious the situation was.

Knowing better than to sneak up on a cop like Jay, or Enos for that matter, Daisy turned on the light over the kitchen sink and made soft, non-threatening noises while she got the coffee pot ready.

When she came up behind him on the porch, he said, "Morning, Daisy. Did you get any sleep?"

"Some. How'd you know it was me?"

"Really? I heard your footsteps on the stairs and smelled your perfume as soon as you came down. I like the other one better. The one that smells like…what's that blue-purple spikey flower?"

"Hyacinth?" It was the only scent she could remember wearing around Jay.

"Yeah, that smells good. The one you're wearing now reminds me of soap."

"That's cause it is soap, idiot." She chucked one of the swing's throw pillows at his head.

He feigned a duck and said, "That coffee for me?"

"It was, but I'm not so sure now."

He gave her the toothy grin he reserved for people he liked, and she handed him the cup. "One sugar, no cream."

"You know it," he said, taking a swig. "Can't drink that 'little bit of coffee in my cream' swill Enos drinks."

Before they could take the morning tete a tete any further into flirting territory, the fax machine modem signaled an incoming transmission. Disabling the phone tap on the landline had done two things: alleviated some of the stress on the Duke household, and allowed Turk to have a direct line to Thompson.


References:

(39) 'Better is the end of a thing than its beginning, and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.' – Ecclesiastes 7:8