Chapter 5: Good Neighbors Don't Require Good Fences
Now,here comes Bo, heading for the Keller Farm. Boy, I sure hope he gets a kind welcome, don't you? He sure could use a friendly face right now.
Bo approached the Keller farmhouse as cautiously as his own, wary and edgy of pursuit - being chased halfway across the county by bloodhounds will do that to a boy. The whole way over, he'd debated over the best way to approach the Kellers - to hide in the barn, look for Mr. Keller in the fields, to sneak in through the back door - but he finally decided that it was probably best just to walk up and knock on the front door. So he did.
Marlene Keller was in the kitchen, preparing lunch for her husband and son. They'd been back from church for a while, and the menfolk were out in the barn grooming the horses. When she went to answer the knock at the door and saw young Bo Duke standing there, heavy pack across his shoulders and a smudge of dirt across his cheek, she forgot about lunch entirely and ushered the boy in immediately, all aflutter.
"Oh Bo! We heard all about what happened, what they're accusing you of! I'm so glad you're alright! How's Jesse, and Luke, and Daisy?.! Come in, come in, and sit down! Take that pack off, you look fit to fall over! Jonas!" she called out the back door towards the barn. "Would you come here, dear!"
Bo was speechless, and couldn't have gotten a word in edgewise anyway. Before he knew it, a plate of cold chicken and biscuits was set in front of him with a tall glass of milk and a bowl of apples, and Mrs. Keller was cutting him a slice of cherry pie from a pan newly cooled on the windowsill. He started to answer her questions about the rest of the family, only to be shushed and ordered to eat up, because he looked like a half-starved scarecrow. Of course, Mrs. Keller usually thought he looked like a half-starved scarecrow, but he wasn't going to complain. Obediently, Bo folded his hands and bowed his head to say a silent prayer over the unexpected meal, staying that way a bit longer than usual to add in prayers for his family.
As Bo dug in, Jonas Keller came in the back door with his teenaged son Elijah.
"Bo! Good to see you well, son. We don't believe a word of what they said, of course," Jonas reassured him, patting him on the back as he fetched his own lunch. "I sent Elijah over this morning to take care of the animals, figured you wouldn't be back yet."
Bo nodded thanks and swallowed. "I saw that, thank you," he acknowledged the teenager who'd done the work as well. "Uncle Jesse will sure appreciate it."
"Now Jonas, you let him eat!" Marlene interrupted him, scolding her husband. "God knows where they had to spend the night! Can you imagine, arresting Jesse Duke and his boys for murder? Awful, just awful!" she tutted, sitting down at the table with the three of them.
When Bo had finished seconds, but politely refused thirds, Mrs. Keller cleared the dirty dishes from the table and sat back down across from her husband. Taking the cue, thirteen year-old Elijah excused himself and went back outside, though not so far that he couldn't hear their conversation.
"What do you intend to do now, son?" Jonas asked with kind concern.
Bo looked down at the table, fiddling with the half-empty glass of milk. He wasn't used to be turned to for answers, for plans, and but he knew that this time, the buck stopped with him.
"Well…we're hiding out, right now, me and Uncle Jesse and Luke, until we can sort this out. I came back for some supplies from the farm, and I came over here to see if you and Mrs. Keller had heard anything more than we know. Have you seen Daisy?" he asked suddenly, the one concern of many coming to the forefront of his thoughts.
Marlene shook her heard. "No, dear, we thought she was with you and Jesse. Jonas kept a lookout - she didn't come home last night, though those FBI agents were at your farm quite late."
Bo's heart sank, and it must have shown, because Marlene squeezed his arm comfortingly. "I'm sure she's just fine, Bo. That girl's got more sense and spirit than any other young woman in the county."
Back to business, Jonas asked what Bo knew so the case so far.
"Practically nothing. I was out hunting when I came back and found Luke hiding in the trees, the FBI in the house. They tried taking Uncle Jesse, but we stopped them, and we all got away. Uncle Jesse said they were looking for me an' Luke on murder charges. We don't even know who died!" Bo hung his head, running his hands through his hair. This was such a mess.
Jonas frowned, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, son, but we can't add much more to it. They came around here later last night, after we heard all the commotion with the dogs, and warned us that the Duke family was all fugitives from the law and wanted for murder, and that we should call the Sheriff's Department at once if we spot you. I asked them, whose murder? An' they says they can't release that information just yet. Those city boys had real bad attitudes, I'll tell you right now. I've known Rosco to be more polite."
"Have you talked to anyone else, dear?" Marlene asked, watching him with a motherly eye. It wasn't that long ago that he'd been her son's age, stirring up trouble like a Texas tornado, as boys were wont to do.
Bo shook his head. "No, I came straight to the farm this morning, and I wanted to get out of there as quick as I could, in case they came back." An idea struck him. "I ought to call Cooter, he's usually got a good ear on things in town."
"Well by all means, please, use our phone," Jonas invited, gesturing to the device on the wall.
Bo needed no second invitation. He picked up the receiver and dialed the phone in Cooter's garage, sure he'd be there even on a Sunday.
"Cooter Davenport," came the familiar answer.
"Cooter! It's Bo! I don't know where to start, but…"
"Oh, howdy, Mr. Jackson!...Why sure!...A hole in the radiator, you say?" came Cooter's friendly response.
Bo was confused, and struck silent for a moment.
"Weelll, I've got a couple things to tidy up here, but I can be out there in, oh, an hour?...All right, Mr. Jackson, I'll see you then. Bye now."
With a click, Cooter hung up the phone. Bo stared at the receiver before hanging it back up. Jonas Keller looked at him expectantly as he sat back down at the table.
"I don't know if it's me or him that's lost it, but that was the strangest conversation I never had!" Bo declared, staring at the table.
"What did he say?"
Bo related Cooter's exact words to the Kellers, still trying to make sense of them. Marlene exchanged looks with her husband before speaking.
"Well, that is strange, especially since the Jacksons moved south toward Savannah three years ago. Maybe it was some kind of code."
" 'A hole in the radiator'," Jonas repeated to himself. "Hole…hole…hollow. Would he be talking about Jackson's Hollow?"
Bo looked up, the words clicking into place. "Of course! Someone must have been listening in on him! I hope they couldn't tell where the call came from," he said, suddenly worried he'd placed the Kellers in trouble.
"Oh, no dear, don't worry about us," Marlene rightly reckoned his concern.
"Jackson's Hollow, in an hour," Jonas repeated again. "But that's eight miles from here, as the crow flies. You won't make it in time, not with that pack," he observed. He frowned, brow furrowed in thought, and then lightened in sudden decision. "Elijah!" he called to his son.
The boy quickly came in through the back door, where he'd been listening on the porch. "Yes, Papa?"
"Go saddle Black Morgan, and gather a couple days' feed for him in a sack, on the double."
"Yes sir!" the boy was off and running to the barn.
Bo looked wide-eyed at his neighbor, trying to find his voice to object. "Mr. Keller, I appreciate it, really, but I can't take your horse!" he finally managed, starting to his feet. Hospitality was one thing, but lending him such a valuable animal was aiding and abetting a suspected felon.
"Sit down, son," Jonas directed him, in a tone so close to Uncle Jesse's that Bo automatically obeyed. "You'll take good care of him, and you'll bring him back safe, I'm sure. You can't go traipsing across the countryside trying to outrun dogs and police cars and God knows what else, and I'll bet your feet are fair sore just from that run yesterday. I just wish we could do more to help you clear your name. Now, thank me and relax a bit longer until you're back to being on the run again."
"Thank you Mr. Keller, Mrs. Keller," Bo said in a quiet voice. He hadn't realized the tension that had drained from him since he'd stepped through the front door, until Jonas mentioned going back out there. "I can't say how grateful I am."
"It's alright, Bo," Marlene patted his arm again, standing up from the table. "You just give Jesse and Luke our regards, and come back safe."
"Luke!" Bo felt a wash of guilt all over again. He'd been sitting here, relaxing, having a fine meal - seconds even! - while his cousin was miserable and sick and waiting for the blankets and food he'd gathered.
"What is it, Bo?" Mrs. Keller asked. She tutted again sympathetically when he explained the family's situation more fully, laying a hand on his shoulder as he finished. "Oh honey, don't you feel bad for a moment. Luke and Jesse know that you're worried about them, that's why you're out here right now, instead of turning tail and leaving them on their own! You can't begrudge yourself a meal if you're going to take care of them as well."
Bo gave her a small smile, but didn't have a chance to respond as Elijah came running back into the house. "All done, Pop!" he called.
At his words, Bo stood, unwilling to sit idle any longer. Jonas stood with him and stepped around the table to show him out the back. Bo shouldered his pack and turned to thank Mrs. Keller again, but she shooed him along, saying she'd be out in a moment anyway.
Black Morgan waited impatiently, tied to the far end of the barn. Bo, who had learned to ride at age seven on Morgan's grandsire Georgia Twister, knew he was a spirited animal, and gelding hadn't calmed the horse much. The latter part of the horse's name came from his lineage - he was a Morgan horse, a sturdy versatile breed that Jonas Keller was proud to own a part of. He was equally capable of plowing a field as running a race, with endurance, strength, and intelligence to spare. The former part of the horse's name came from his temperament, which was indeed black, and very unusual in the Morgan line. If Bo didn't already have some experience with the beast, Jonas never would have handed him the reins.
As it was, it took a few minutes' reaccquaintance before Black Morgan settled enough for Bo to secure the pack behind the saddle, along with the horse's own supply of hay and oats. He adjusted the stirrups to fit his long legs, and swung up into the saddle while Jonas held the reins for him, watching Morgan's ears flick backwards and forwards with uncertain feeling. Then, with an indifferent snort, the gelding relaxed, and Bo relaxed in the saddle. Mrs. Keller came out through the barn just then, carrying a small cloth sack in one hand.
"Here, Bo," she said, reaching up to hand it to him. "For Luke, and for you too."
He glanced inside the opening left by the loose drawstring and saw some envelopes of tea, a lemon, a bit of honeycomb in a beeswax packet, some home-brand cough drops, and a paper packet of what smelled like root-beer flavored hard candy. Bo smiled wide, hoping she didn't see the tears misting his eyes.
"Thanks, Mrs. Keller, and Mr. Keller. We'll be back before you know it," he promised, securing the sack in the top of the duffel bag.
Jonas patted the horse's neck affectionately, and stepped aside as Bo took up the reins and turned Black Morgan towards the fields. "Good luck, Bo."
With a smile and a nod, Bo said goodbye and urged the horse to a swift trot. Once they reached the hard-packed path between the broad acres, he lightly kicked the gelding into a gallop with a full-hearted "Yeeee-haaaww!" and rode for the hills.
Y'know, it never ceases to amaze me how country folk take care of one another. Bo went to the Kellers hopin' for a kind word and some news, and he leaves with a full belly and a horse!
---------------------
Even with the aid of Black Morgan, Bo was hard pressed to maketheeight milesto Jackson's Hollow within an hour. He was careful of his path as he guided his mount through the hills and trees, avoiding mud that would hold tracks, as well as unsteady terrain that would make the horse slip. Morgan was sure-footed, though, and the going was good. It sure beat running, in any case.
With just a few minutes to spare, had Bo been looking at a watch, he reached the secluded hollow, hidden in a stretch of woods where three hills converged. A natural spring flowed from one hillside in a streamlet down between the other two, and a few weathered boulders lay strewn about. The small clearing on either side of the stream wasn't much more than half an acre, with paths leading in from all sides and thick highbush blueberries concealing the space from all eyes. The hollow was far from the center of town and the main roads, bordering property owned by no one in particular, which probably meant it was Boss Hogg's. It was a popular enough destination for young couples on an afternoon picnic, very pretty and very private.
Bo tied Black Morgan loosely to a sapling behind a tall stand of bushes, otherwise leaving him ready for a quick getaway. The he approached the hollow, watching and listening for Cooter. The mechanic wasn't there yet, but it wasn't long before Bo heard ambling footsteps coming down the path. He came into view, looking around the clearing for his friend.
"Bo!" he called softly, looking in the other direction. "You out there?"
"Cooter!" Bo stood up from behind a bush, and grinned as his friend jumped a foot in the air, startled.
"Mother dog, Bobo! Don't do that!" Cooter scolded with a smile. He looked past his friend into the bushes. "Is Lucas Dukas there with ya?"
Bo stepped free of the bushes into the clearing, reassured that Cooter was alone. "No, just me. Why are we meeting all the way out here?" he asked. Cooter sat down on the grass, stretching his legs out, and Bo slumped down next to him.
"Because you are in some serious trouble this time, man."
"Tell me about it," Bo agreed. "How much do you know?"
"More than you do, I'll bet. I heard they was chasin' you with dogs! How'd you get away from that?.!"
"Later, Cooter. What did you find out?" Bo asked impatiently.
Cooter was taken aback for a moment - Bo was never too serious to talk fun. Then again, Bo had never been runnin' from the FBI on murder charges either.
"Well, y'know how you told me the General was stolen?" Bo nodded. "Yesterday morning, I get a call from Enos, first thing in the mornin'. Mr. Langsford, down the south end of the county, found the General in Knockabout Creek, with two women in it, dead."
Bo stared at him, horrified at the very idea. "Dead? Like, drowned?"
"Shot, close range, while sitting in it. The gun was in the car, wiped clean of prints. Rosco and these FBI dudes piece that together with your stolen car report, and decide you were tryin' to make up an alibi to cover it up."
"Wait, when did the FBI get involved?"
Cooter shrugged. "I dunno. Enos said they were trailing these two lady car thieves across the state, but I ain't heard of a single theft that I didn't know…er, that was out of the ordinary."
"Lady car thieves? They were the ones killed?.!" Charlotte and Selena…now, Bo might have been mighty angry with them, but he wouldn't want them dead, not even for the General Lee!
Cooter cringed - he had seen the bodies when he pulled the car out of the creek. "Yeah, pretty little things, too."
They were silent for a moment - respect for the dead, Bo supposed. Then he asked, "What's happened since then? I mean, aside from me being chased across half the county."
"Well, they searched your place, an' had me confiscate your Uncle Jesse's truck - it's in the impound now with the General and Dixie, all as evidence."
"Dixie?.!"
Cooter cringed again - he hated being the bearer of bad news. "They arrested Daisy last night, at the Boar's Nest. I was there, too - she put up a heck of a fight, but there was too many of them, an' they carried her off in handcuffs. She's spittin' nails in one o' Rosco's jail cells, and worried sick about y'all. Where is Luke an' Uncle Jesse, anyhow?"
Bo sighed, and gave Cooter the summary of his side of the story, including the location of the hideout. Cooter looked increasingly concerned, and shook his head at Bo's escape from the bloodhounds.
"Hoo! I always knew you had some smarts in you, Bo!" he razzed his friend, ruffling his blond hair.
Bo laughed. "Yeah, who knew?"
"I'm glad y'all got away, though, an' glad you didn't try my place. I've had more tails than a double-sided quarter since y'all disappeared, an' it took some waggin' to get rid of them to come here. I think ol' Rosco figures you're gonna walk right into my garage and take me to Sunday brunch, and then he'll have you." Bo grinned at the thought, picturing the look on Rosco's face if he did such a thing. Cooter continued though, more seriously. "Don't you come anywheres near town though, Bo. The place is crawling with feds, an' they're searching the roads for you. Keep to the hills, stay low."
"But Cooter, we can't keep runnin' like this! There's got to be something we can to do prove ourselves innocent! All they've got is…"
"…Two bodies, a gun, your car, and a motive," Cooter counted off on his fingers.
"But…we've got an alibi…"
"Your own uncle. And not for the five-six hours you were missing."
"But, we were drugged!"
"Can you prove it?" Cooter was only asking echoes of the questions and answers he'd overheard, from his tails and from Enos, as they discussed the case. He looked as miserable at the answers as his friend.
"Yes!"
Cooter looked up sharply. Bo snapped his fingers in a very Luke-like fashion. "The glasses those girls gave us that lemonade in - we left them in the grass by the side of the road! If they're still there…!"
"Then y'all might have a fighting chance!"
Bo jumped to his feet, his mind racing. "I've got to get back up to Uncle Jesse and Luke first…then I can ride out to Chickasaw…but what about Daisy?" His face fell. "We can't leave her locked up in there!"
Cooter climbed to his feet as well. "You let me worry about Daisy. I've got a few ideas. Like I said, y'all stay out of town and off the roads - they're lookin' for you. I'll get ahold of you if I have more news."
Bo nodded agreement. "Leave word with the Kellers or the Suttons if you have to."
Cooter clapped him on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself, buddy."
"You too, Cooter."
Both moving at a jog, they disappeared into the underbrush in their respective directions, Cooter to the truck that waited over the next hill, and Bo to the borrowed gelding that waited impatiently. Black Morgan chomped at the bit to be off again just as much as the youngest Duke cousin, who quickly untied him, swung into the saddle, and took off with a whoop.