– Chapter Four –

"From Bad to Good to Worse"

It don't take a genius to understand that the Dukes done had themselves a real bad day—'specially Bo and Luke. Even Fender noticed it when his family got home, and he was real confused when he didn't see the General Lee. But, like most dogs, he picked up on the fact that his buddies was pretty upset about something. He spent the rest of the day watchin' 'em and stickin' close, hopin' he could help fix the problem, whatever it was. He tried real hard, but it didn't do much good. Right now I don't see no way to fix what the boys have gotten themselves into.

Something warm and wet brushed against Luke's face, startling him awake. He grunted and rubbed at the damp trail on his cheek, blinking sleepily in the dark room as he wondered what had awakened him. He found himself staring point blank into a pair of liquid brown eyes. Fender had propped his front legs on Luke's mattress and was staring expectantly into the young man's face. Seeing that Luke was awake, the dog leaned in again and swiped his tongue against Luke's nose. Luke sputtered and pushed Fender's muzzle away.

"Aw, knock it off!" he mumbled. "I let you out before we went to bed." He pulled the covers over his head and tried to go to back sleep, but the sound of his voice only encouraged the dog further, and he was forced to sit up when Fender hopped on top of him and started pawing at his head.

"Okay, fine, we'll go," Luke gave in, whispering his exasperation into the dog's hopeful face. "But I don't know why you can't bug Bo." He darted a glance over at his cousin's bed—and saw it was empty. So that's how it was. Bo had gotten up and left without waking Luke, but when the dog heard him leave, he decided he just had to follow.

Luke sighed. "You're too dang nosy, you know that?" Fender just wagged his tail and hopped down from the bed, waiting for Luke to open the bedroom door. Luke followed the dog down the hall into the living room. He let Fender into the front yard, but then his face furrowed in a mild frown as he saw his cousin sitting alone on the porch. Bo took no notice of the dog as it trotted past him, but continued sitting motionless on the wooden steps, his head in his hands.

"Bo? What're you doin' out here?" Luke closed the door softly behind him and sat down beside his cousin.

"Couldn't sleep," Bo replied quietly. His wrinkled shirt hung loosely across his shoulders, thrown on hastily and left unbuttoned.

The two cousins sat in silence for several minutes. Fender finished sniffing around the yard and padded over to where the boys sat. He stood next to Bo and pawed gently at him, asking for a pat. When Bo didn't respond, the dog gave a resigned sigh and lay down, resting his head on the young man's knee.

"Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you—when you were in the marines…" He paused, taking a deep breath and blinking rapidly against the burning behind his eyes. Luke had a feeling he knew what Bo was going to ask him, but he didn't say anything. He just waited patiently. Bo regained control of himself and started speaking again, voice so quiet Luke could hardly hear it. "When you were in the marines, did you ever feel like I do now?"

Luke gave a sad little sigh. "That's a complicated question, Bo," he said slowly. He could feel Bo's eyes on him, but he continued looking at the dirt between his bare feet. "It was different…I went through boot camp and training, sorta getting my mind into a certain pattern. You learn to divide up your brain into different parts, but…" He swallowed hard. He didn't particularly want to talk about combat. It was a different situation, a different mindset, something he didn't really want to go back to. He'd had to draw on those memories once already that day, and he'd had enough of it.

"Do you remember that time when I got tossed into that big mirror Boss Hogg bought?" he asked as another memory came to him. "Remember how he arrested me for it and wanted to force me to fight to get myself out of jail?"

"Yeah."

"I told him I'd given up boxing. You remember why?"

"You said…there was that guy you were fightin'…"

"Yeah." Luke turned to hold his cousin's gaze. "When I was standing in the ring lookin' down at him, and everybody started running to pick him up…I thought I'd killed him. He was alive when they took him to the infirmary, but…man, it was touch-and-go." His blue eyes were troubled and an old pain was in his voice. "It wasn't my fault, but I remember how terrible I felt until I knew for sure he was gonna pull through. All the same, he was hurt bad enough that they had to send him back home." A thin, humorless smile touched his lips. "'Course, he probably got the better end of the deal…we were shipped overseas a short time later.

"It bothered me for a long time, though," he continued. "I couldn't get rid of the memory of seein' him lying there, bleeding onto the mat…Felt like it was burned on my brain. It's not easy to shake. You saw how I acted when Boss tried to shove that boxing match down my throat."

Bo's hands were trembling. "That's what I feel," he whispered. "I keep feelin' the wheel jerk in my hands…I keep seein' him go by, seein' his face while he was lying there…" He turned haunted blue eyes on his cousin. "Does it ever stop?" he asked pleadingly.

Luke put his hand on Bo's shoulder. "It does, Bo. Honest. It might take some time, but it will."

Bo didn't say anything in return, but somewhere deep inside, he started to feel just a little bit better. The warmth of the dog pressing against him and his cousin's hand on his shoulder was helping to chase away the chill that had been clinging to his insides all day…and it helped to know that Luke understood what he was going through. If Luke told him that things got better, well, he must be right. It didn't do much for him right then, but it was enough to allow him to hope.

The worried lines on his face softened just a bit. "Cousin, the way you said that…I think I might believe you."

Luke gave him a relieved smile and clapped him on the back. "'Course you do. I ain't never lied to you before, have I? Now, come on. You say you can't sleep, but you ain't gonna be able to do it out here no matter how much you try. Let's get on back to bed."

xxxxx

The sun was well on its way across the sky the next day before Bo woke up. He was alone in the bedroom. He wasn't sure when Luke had gotten up, but his older cousin had managed to get dressed and make his bed without waking him.

Bo turned onto his back and looked at the ceiling. The sun was shining brightly outside and a warm breeze was blowing in his window, but the memory of the day before hovered over him like a gray cloud. His eyes slid closed as he tried to fight off the feelings of guilt and helplessness that had plagued him the day before. Is this ever going to leave me alone?

"It does, Bo. Honest. It might take some time, but it will."

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, a determined look on his face as Luke's words from the night before came back to him. What had happened had happened, and wallowing in his misery wasn't going to do anything but make him more miserable. There wasn't anything he could do about it now except go forward. Maybe it would be one little, dragging step at a time, but it would be forward.

He rolled out of bed and grabbed a handful of clothes as he headed down the narrow hallway to take a shower, walking just a little taller as he felt his heart start beating more easily within his chest.

xxxxx

Luke looked up from the morning paper and smiled hopefully as he heard Bo's familiar tread in the hallway. His cousin walked into the kitchen, pulling a brown t-shirt on over his head, blond hair still damp and tousled from the vigorous towel-drying he had given it. He looked tired, but there was a lightness in his step that hadn't been there the day before.

"Mornin'," Luke ventured.

"G'morning." Fender had come over to greet Bo immediately, and he bent down to scratch behind the dog's ears before opening the door to let him out into the yard. "Where's Jesse and Daisy?"

"Out in the back forty and at work." Luke didn't say that the only reason he wasn't with their uncle in the fields was because Jesse had asked him to stay behind to keep an eye on Bo.

Luke sure tries hard to be good to Bo, don't he? 'Course, what Luke don't know is that the other reason his uncle wanted him to stay behind is 'cause Jesse was worried about him, too. But we ain't gonna tell him that.

"We got anything to eat?"

"I think there's biscuits left over. I can make you some eggs if you want."

Bo looked at the clock. "Nah, it's almost eleven. I'll just make a sandwich." He pulled out a plate and started rummaging in the refrigerator, looking for the ham.

"How you doin' this morning?" Luke asked after a moment.

Bo paused with his knife in the mustard jar, looking down at the counter. "I don't feel all that good, but…I'm tryin'. I know there wasn't anything I coulda done to change things yesterday, but it might take me a little while to actually believe it. Anyway…" he continued, getting back to work on his sandwich, "…I had someone to listen to me and give me advice last night. Thanks." The smile he sent Luke's way was hesitant and it didn't reach his eyes…but it was better than nothing.

"Glad I could help." Luke returned the smile. He was relieved to see that a good night's sleep, a little encouragement, and Bo's natural optimism were doing their work to get his cousin back to normal. He was decidedly more subdued than Luke ever remembered seeing him, but the guilty slump to his shoulders was gone, hopefully for good.

"What about you?" Bo asked, dropping into a chair across the table.

"What about me?"

Bo looked at him over the top of his sandwich. "You were in the car yesterday too, ya know. You seemed to have your head together, but I know you're good at fakin' it."

"Oh, well…I'm all right," Luke answered. Bo gave him a searching look. "Really, I'm fine," he repeated.

"If you say so."

Luke reached for the paper again and started skimming through the sports section. He was all right…for the most part. A man can control his emotions if he tries hard enough while he's awake, but there isn't anything he can do once he has fallen asleep. Luke had managed to drop off to sleep just fine, but the disturbing dreams that had rolled relentlessly through his mind hadn't exactly made for a restful night. But he wasn't going to tell Bo that.

Bo glanced at the newspaper strewn across the kitchen table and felt his heart sink as he saw the headline splashed across the front page: "Unidentified man killed in accident". Thankfully, his name wasn't in the title, but of course it was in the article. He knew that he and his cousin had a reputation for wild driving, but up until now, most of Hazzard had looked on them like a couple of favorite—if unpredictable—sons. He wondered dismally if anyone would ever trust him behind the wheel again.

"We should get on out and help Uncle Jesse," he said abruptly, folding the newspaper to push it away from his eyes and out of his mind. "He shouldn't oughta have to work out there by himself."

"Well…he said if we had time, we should probably try to get over to the Tompkins place again. We never did get over there yesterday, and they need that roof fixed before it rains again."

Bo winced. "I forgot about that."

"Yeah, I know…but Jesse said we could use the truck, so if we wanted to—" Luke broke off and looked curiously over his shoulder he heard Fender start barking outside. A moment later, the sound of car engines and tires on gravel drifted in the open window. He rose to out the window as a Hazzard County patrol car rolled up, followed by a dark blue car. "What's goin' on now?" he muttered.

Bo stood to stand next to him, watching as Fender ran up to the Patrol car to greet Rosco as he emerged from his vehicle. He flattened his ears and his feathered tail wagged happily as the sheriff bend to pat his head.

Ever notice that dogs just plain like Rosco? Maybe it's 'cause they feel so much smarter when he's around.

Rosco turned away from the dog and hustled around to the blue car to meet the driver as he got out. Fender hopped up to rest his front paws in the open window of the patrol car, tail wagging even faster as Flash sat up on the seat and leaned forward to touch noses.

Meanwhile, the driver of the other car had emerged and was engaged in conversation with Rosco. The man appeared to be in his mid-thirties, and his khaki pants and linen shirt contrasted sharply with Bo and Luke's farm clothes, but the man's formal appearance was softened in that his collar was unbuttoned, his sleeves were rolled up, and he wasn't wearing a tie.

Bo frowned in puzzlement as Rosco abruptly turned, shooed Fender away from his car, and drove off, leaving the stranger to walk toward the house. Fender noticed that someone new was still on his territory, and he trotted close behind the stranger, sniffing inquiringly at the man's pant leg. Bo moved to stand in front of the screen door, eyeing the man with a mixture of curiosity and caution as he approached.

"Somethin' I can do for you?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," the stranger replied. His voice was pleasant, but businesslike. "My name is Nate Miles. I'm a police detective working as an investigator for Federal Prosecutor Jacob Bronson. Sheriff Coltrane was kind enough to show me the way here—I'm here to talk to Beauregard Duke about what happened yesterday." He pulled out his wallet and held it out to display the gold badge on the inside flap.

Uh oh. Now, what d'you suppose he wants?

The friendly expression faded from Bo's face and his brows drew together in a worried frown. "That's me," he said hesitantly. He stepped back and opened the door, allowing Miles to enter the kitchen. Fender followed, continuing his sniff until crumbs on the floor distracted him.

Luke folded his arms across his chest. "You're workin' for a federal prosecutor?" he asked, sudden watchfulness lacing his voice.

"That's right."

"That ain't called for…what happened yesterday was an accident," Luke said firmly.

"Yes, I know Mr. Duke didn't mean to hit the man," Miles replied, "but I don't think it was an accident."

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

Miles gestured to the kitchen table. "Could we sit down?"

"Sure."

The three men sat down at the table. Bo and Luke sat next to each other across from the investigator. Luke wasn't touching his younger cousin, but the protectiveness he felt for Bo was plainly visible, and there was a warning in his serious blue eyes that told Miles he would be in big trouble if he tried to push Bo around.

The investigator turned to Luke. "Before we start, I'd like to have your name, please, Mr…?"

"He's a Duke, too," Bo said. "My cousin, Luke. Anything you got to say to me, he can hear. Now, would you mind speakin' plain so we can understand you?"

Miles rested his arms on the table and fixed Bo with a serious gaze. "Mr. Duke, we had the state coroner inspect the body yesterday afternoon. It takes thirty days for an official, complete report to be finalized, but we can get the preliminary results right away. I got the initial report this morning. That man was not killed by your car."

Bo's mouth dropped open. "What?"

"There were broken bones and severe internal injuries where the man was struck by the car," Miles continued, "and it's highly likely he would have died from them eventually, but the worst injury was a blow to the head. Without getting too graphic—well, the damage was extensive enough to kill someone even if there were no other injuries. We think what killed him was the blow to the head." The pair of cousins looked at each other, stunned.

"You 'think'?" Luke leaned forward. "Mister, this is my cousin's life and future at stake. You better be double damn sure."

Miles looked grim. "I'm double damn sure. The head injury was on the back of the victim's head, here on the left side." He placed the palm of his hand on his own head, above and behind his left ear. "But the victim was struck by your car on the right side, and from the autopsy, the coroner has determined that those injuries occurred after the victim was already dead. He hadn't been dead long, which is probably why the paramedics who picked up the body didn't suspect anything…but he was dead, just the same."

Bo stared, wide-eyed, at the detective. "How?" he asked breathlessly.

"That's what we're trying to figure out. Can you tell me anything about the accident?"

"It just happened so fast," Bo said quietly. He sat still for a minute, thinking. "Well, we were out by Cottonwood Road. I was goin' near fifty…There's a ravine that runs across Cottonwood that we like to drive in—the road's got a bridge over the ravine. Right when we were comin' out from under the bridge, the man came out of nowhere and—and I hit him."

"But if he was already dead, he couldn't step out in front of the General like that," Luke said to himself.

Miles paused for a moment before he asked, "Did you see anyone else around when you stopped to go back?"

"No," Luke said with a puzzled frown. "There weren't nobody around—" He broke off, sudden understanding lighting in his eyes as he understood what Miles was getting at. "You think the killer was there," he said. "You think he killed that man and then threw him up in front of the car to cover it up."

"It looks that way. My team and I went over your car this morning—there's no blood on it anywhere. With an injury that bad, if the man's head had struck your car, we would have seen evidence of it."

"You hear that, Bo?" Luke asked. "It wasn't the car that killed him! Heck, you didn't even hit him, if you get right down to it. There weren't no way to avoid it if someone was waitin' for an opportunity like that."

"I—y-yeah," Bo stammered. He looked across the table at the detective with growing hope in his eyes. "Mister, are you—you're sure about this now? I'm innocent?"

Miles smiled and nodded reassuringly. "You're innocent, Mr. Duke. You're as much a victim as the man who was killed."

Bo collapsed against the back of his chair and let out his breath in a rush, scrunching his fingers through his blond curls as he shook his head. A bewildered smile started to make its way across his face. "Miles, that there's the best news I've got all year. If you was a lady, I'd kiss you!" Miles laughed, but it was a halfhearted sound and both boys could see there was still something that had gone unsaid.

Bo sobered immediately and asked with some trepidation, "What ain't you tellin' us?"

"Well, there's just one problem," Miles said slowly. "We don't know if the killer was waiting for any car to come along…or waiting for your car."

"What?"

Miles sighed. "I haven't told you what case I'm investigating yet."

"You ain't here for me?" Bo asked in confusion.

"I needed to talk to you about the accident, but when I looked over my files yesterday I realized that I would have needed to come talk to you—both of you—within the next week or so, whether this had happened or not. I'm gathering evidence for a Grand Jury regarding crimes committed in Osage County. The victim's name was Terrence Cole—he was going to testify for the indictment of Commissioner Cassius B. Claibourne."

Bo immediately went rigid, blue eyes widening when he heard the familiar name. "You—you said Cassius Claibourne?" he forced out. He glanced over at Luke, seeing alarm suddenly alight in his cousin's eyes.

"Then you do know Claibourne?"

Luke swallowed hard against his dry throat. "You might say that."

Y'know, as glad as I am to hear that Bo ain't at fault for what happened, this ain't exactly good news, folks. Cassius Claibourne is one name I'd be happy if I never heard again. I don't know if y'all remember him…but from the look on Bo and Luke's faces, they sure do.

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Note: The two episodes alluded to in this chapter were: "And in This Corner, Luke Duke", and "Cool Hands, Luke and Bo".