Author's note: Hi again. Thanks to all who read Chapter 1, whether you reviewed or not. And special thanks to those who reviewed.

In my first chapter I forgot to thank Hazzard Husker, who beta read this story and offered a number of useful suggestions as well as encouragement.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Dukes or any of the major characters. Andy Roach is named for the agent that is mentioned in High Octane, but his personality was created by me.

Chapter 2 – Someone Else's Drum

Bo was the one who received Luke's call seeking a ride back from the garage. While Rosco had passed on arresting the Duke boy, the pickup had been impounded, leaving Luke stranded in town. Daisy had finally managed to head out for work, and Jesse'd walked out to check for storm damage to any of the remote buildings on the property, leaving Bo to retrieve Luke. Bo was grateful for the chance to help Luke out of a jam; Luke was relieved at the brief reprieve from having to tell Jesse about the status of the old truck.

"Rosco, you get in here now." The radio silence that greeted him did not please the man in white. "Rosco! If you don't answer me right now…"

The sheriff startled from his half-sulk in time to say, "You'll find your fat sister divorced and standing on your doorstep," in unison with his boss. Although it was the last thing he wanted to do, Rosco picked up the CB mic to stammer, "Yes, sir, gyu, Boss. I'm gone."

There were times when the sheriff couldn't remember why he had gone into the law. He didn't think he had ever been as eager as Enos, but it seemed like he'd once enjoyed the job. In fact, he still liked some of his duties quite a bit: the high speed chases, the thrill of the collar, the police band/citizens' band radios though which he could command his minions… in fact, he had to admit this hating his job thing was a relatively new development, born, at least in part, of his changed relationship with the man he was headed towards right now.

Rosco's brother-in-law, also known as County Commissioner J. D. Hogg, was not a man that the sheriff trusted. Hogg had never been an honest man, but he was consistent. A lifetime resident of Hazzard, he'd kicked, scratched and clawed his way out of the poverty he'd been born into, using whomever he needed to, double-crossing friends, competitors and enemies alike. By his mid-twenties he'd begun to amass some wealth, and started lusting for power. Since his forties he'd led a checkered but successful political life, and now at 62 he was the wealthiest, most important man in Hazzard. Disliked by most, feared by many, respected by almost no one, Boss Hogg was maybe the most straightforward crooked man the south had ever known. He never claimed to be on the side of good, he was merely on his own side.

Rosco pulled himself into his most impressive stature of more than 6 feet as he entered the private back room of the Boar's Nest which served as one of Hogg's offices around the county. He hated how reliant he'd become on being in this man's good graces. Not so very long ago, the government and the law had been two separate functions in Hazzard; increasingly, they were becoming one. Part, though not all, of the merger had occurred a few years back, when Rosco's spinster sister Lulu had finally become Mrs. J.D. Hogg after a very long and strange courtship that had largely consisted of exchanges of both food and food related terms of endearment, something the sheriff tried not to think too hard about. More recently, the line between the local law and local law-maker had blurred even more as, for the first time, Sheriff Coltrane actually faced competition for his elected position. No one ever actually wanted to be sheriff before – it fell to Rosco almost by default. Now John Ledbetter had returned to the town of his childhood with plans of his own to run the place, and Rosco actually had to campaign. Which cost money. Which could only come from the wealthiest man in Hazzard, if and only if J. D. Hogg thought that Sheriff Coltrane was a worthy ally. Rosco didn't like to grovel, imagining himself a seasoned officer of the law and certainly above that. But grovel Rosco did.

"Rosco, you jackass, what was all that radio chatter I heard about Luke Duke? I told you to leave those Dukes alone."

"Yes sir, Boss, well you see, it wasn't me but my new deputy that chased him. But, see, it's OK, because I just made him write that boy a ticket and let him go." Rosco had removed his Stetson hat and was turning it in his hands as if trying to steer himself out of this conversation. No such luck.

"You'd better get that deputy of yours under control. I got bigger plans for that Duke family than a moving violation, and I'm gonna need 'em all out on the loose for it to work. It's time I eliminated some of my competition," the portly county commissioner growled around the cigar at the corner of his mouth.

"Yes sir," the sheriff muttered, fidgeting in self-loathing. "But I've got good news, good news. We impounded Luke's pickup truck!"

Rosco's smile was short-lived.

"You pea-brain! That truck's so old we couldn't sell the parts even if we did strip it, which we ain't gonna do. You just make sure that Duke boy gets his truck back for the regular impound fee. And Rosco…"

"Yes, Boss?"

"Impound cars that are less than thirty years old."

"Yes, Boss." As soon as he was dismissed, the sheriff hustled out of the roadhouse to resume patrol. At least in his car he could still convince himself that he retained control of the department under his command.

"'Smatter, Luke, you forget how to drive anything smaller than a tank?"

The ice-blue daggers that turned his way shut Bo up quick.

Luke took a deep breath. Though he wanted to clobber his cousin, he reminded himself that he would have been facing a mighty long walk if not for Bo's eagerness to perform this rescue mission. And besides, it wasn't Bo's fault that Luke was always on edge, though he frequently managed to push Luke beyond the point of patience. Bo was young and in many ways still so innocent, and as annoying as that could be sometimes, Luke really wanted him to stay that way.

"Nah, but if you'd stop daydreamin' about girls and help me keep the cars runnin', they'd be in good enough shape to outrun ol' Rosco." Luke forced his tone to be jovial, and Bo bit, answering only with a guilty but relieved smile.

"What I really need is some decent wheels," Luke said, echoing his earlier conversation with his friends. It wasn't that he'd suddenly regained his interest in cars, simply his interest in being able to slip through the fingers of the very annoying sheriff's department.

"Hey, Luke?" Bo probed tentatively, watching for a sign of exactly which Luke Duke he was dealing with at the moment. When his oldest cousin simply regarded him with mild curiosity and no sarcasm, Bo went on, "I was thinkin' maybe you could show me some stuff, you know, like driving moves."

Neutrality turned to surprise. "Bo, you're already better behind the wheel than I was at your age. Besides, you sure you want the guy that let Rosco Coltrane catch him teachin' you anything?"

"Yeah, Luke, I'm sure."

Luke found that no matter what he did or did not want to do, he couldn't turn his young cousin down, not when Bo trusted him this much.

"OK, Bo, but it's gonna mean driving Daisy to work for awhile so's we can use a decent car. Ain't no way Jesse's gonna let me borrow Tilly when I tell him that I got the old pickup impounded today."

Bo just grinned his sympathy.

For the second time that day, Rosco pulled himself into an approximation of the menacing sheriff that he imagined himself to be. He might be marching to the beat of someone else's drum, but there was no reason that anyone else in the county he served needed to know that. After all, it would only be until his campaign was complete, and then he'd be back to his normal self.

Shoving the door to the Hazzard branch of the Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms Bureau a little harder than was strictly necessary, Rosco burst into the room. Andy Roach, who had been taking notes on certain case files, jumped at the sudden intrusion.

"Gyu," Rosco said. 'Rookie,' he thought. "Listen there, Agent Roach, since you're new here, I think I'd better tell you what's what and who's who. That way you won't waste your time on any of the penny ante stuff."

"Oh, Sheriff?"

"Yes, because you see, there are people that have just got the one still, brewing for family purposes, you know, and then there are others that are really bad seeds, really bad."

"Is that right?" Andy asked, eyebrow cocked.

Rosco was beginning to sweat. This rookie was so dumb that he was going to have to spell it out for him. "Gyu, yes. Now you see, most folks around here just do a little business, but there's one family that you've got to look out for."

"Uh-huh…" The young agent remained impassive.

"Yes, ijit, just the one."

"You're repeating yourself, Sheriff."

"Right. Well you know, Jesse Duke, he runs 'shine through all three counties and probably as far as Nashville. So, gyu, he's the one, you know, to look out for. Not just him, but his nephews Bo and Luke, too."

"I'll keep that in mind Sheriff, thank you. Now if you don't mind…" Andy said, gesturing to the door, his face a picture of dismissal.

"Well, right, OK, I just wanted to be sure that you know. But well, I'm a busy man, got to go out on patrol, catch criminals, gyu, so I'll be going now." On the force of his own wind, Rosco blew out the door.

Andy Roach chuckled to himself. He'd have to look for any records on this Coltrane. Those who came to report on moonshiners were usually running a competing still, and likely the sheriff was in the business as well, though he didn't remember Higgins mentioning Rosco as anything more than an annoyance.

The young agent already knew about the Duke clan. They'd never been caught, but corn whiskey with their trademark stamp, a mule, had been traced as far north as Boone, North Carolina. The only local mark found in a similarly distant range was the hogshead, presumed to belong to one Jefferson Davis Hogg, also never caught.

Yes, Roach knew who the worst offenders were, and he had his plans for catching them, as all his predecessors had failed to do. The only problem with plans is that they have a habit of getting complicated, just as his was…

"Uh, Jesse?" Luke had found him making sure that the patch on the porch roof had withstood the rain.

"You were gone quite a while, weren't you, Luke?" Jesse's voice was even; Luke couldn't tell whether his uncle was already angry or not.

"Yes, sir. I had a little trouble with Rosco." Luke offered a lopsided half-smile, hoping his uncle would understand.

"Well, since you were just in town picking up some wire and nails, and I'm sure you wasn't doing nothing illegal, the trouble couldn't be too bad, right?"

Luke looked down for a second before raising his eyes to meet his uncle's deep blue stare. "Well, you know the old truck," Luke took a deep breath, "I guess the taillight was out. So Enos was chasin' me, and Rosco cut me off, and they impounded the pickup." Luke braced himself for the lecture he remembered so well from his teenaged years.

"Well, Luke, if it's impounded, yer just gonna have to take Bo and get it back out. After you help him finish that dog pen, that is. The impound fee is only fifteen dollars, and you can find that in the 'safe' behind the refrigerator."

Luke hid his surprise. "Well, you know, the pickup kind of got dinged up when Enos ran into it."

"Can you drive it?"

"Yeah."

"Then just go and un-impound it, bring it back here and you and Bo can pound those dings out. I assume you two can handle that?"

"Yes, sir." Luke turned so that he could head out to join Bo at work, when Jesse spoke again.

"Luke? We ain't done talking yet."

"Yes, sir?"

"I been watching you, Luke. I ain't said nothing up 'til now, but I think it's time I did. You know, there ain't much we Dukes can count on by way of material things." Here it comes, Luke thought, the lecture about carelessness and losing the pickup to Rosco. "But Luke, what we got is each other. Now you been keepin' to yourself lately, an' I ain't missed that." Jesse held up his hands to ward off any comeback that his nephew might have, but for once the boy had nothing to say. "You been to war and I reckon you seen some things you think you can't tell me about. Maybe done some stuff you think I wouldn't approve of. But you gotta remember, your old Uncle Jesse has seen a thing or two himself, so when you're ready to talk about it, I'm here. You know that."

Luke was so surprised at the direction that the conversation had taken that he momentarily forgot to keep his guard up. "Uh, thanks, Jesse, I appreciate that."

"But," as usual, the man who'd raised him had more to say, "I can't have you avoiding your cousins. They love you, they missed you, and they need you to be around them sometimes. And you've got to cut the smart remarks some, too. We ain't your bunkmates, we's your family. You understand me, Luke?"

Any thought of actually talking to his uncle banished, Luke's carefully guarded neutral façade slid back into place as he met his uncle's eyes. "Yes, sir."

Jesse gathered his oldest charge into his arms for the briefest of moments before the young man pulled away.

"I better go find Bo," Luke muttered, leaving his uncle to continue working on the porch.

The crowd at the Boar's Nest had been particularly unruly all evening, trying Daisy's patience. While she knew that Al, the bartender, was watching her back, everyone else in the place was watching her backside with decreasing subtlety as they ingested more and more alcohol. She was kind of wishing her over-protective cousins would show up, when someone else entered the establishment and banished that thought entirely.

"Hey, sugar, what can I getcha?" Daisy flashed her winning smile at the young ATF agent who had commandeered the stool at the far end of the bar.

Aside from exchanging drink orders and a few words of idle chit-chat, Andy and Daisy made a point of barely noticing one another. In the fishbowl that was Hazzard, neither could afford to feed the rumor mill. But after the bar had closed and she and Al had balanced the books for the night, Daisy walked out to the parking lot to find Andy in his usual place, casually leaning on her car.

"Sugar, we've got to stop meeting like this," she said.

"Well, sweetheart, you stop looking so pretty, and maybe I won't want to spend my time in dark alleys waiting for you."

Daisy laughed and said, "Aw, you're sweet. But I'm serious. Starting tomorrow my cousins are gonna be picking me up from work, so we can't meet here." She hadn't been thrilled with the arrangement that Luke had proposed, but it really was his car, and besides, Bo had been silently begging her with those big blue eyes of his. She knew, just as the whole family did, that Bo used that particular power of persuasion to his advantage all the time, but with the occasional exception of her uncle, no one could resist that look. So Daisy had given in and wondered how long the carpooling would last, and how she could convince her cousins to drop her off early or pick her up late.

"Well, if it's a ride home that you need, you just tell Bo and Luke that you've got one," the young agent suggested with a wink.

Daisy nearly melted, but then the absurdity hit her. "Sure, when they hear you're bringing me home, they'll be thrilled," she laughed. Sobering, she added, "I can't lie to them."

"Don't, then. Tell them you're getting a ride with the law. Everyone knows Deputy Strate would take you home every night, if you'd let him. And your cousins trust him, right? So they wouldn't worry after you…"

Although she wasn't excited about the deception, Daisy had to admit that it was a plan worthy of her older cousin, and she'd gone along with enough of those. For his part, Agent Roach mentally congratulated himself. Access to the Duke farm late at night was exactly what he needed. And then, almost imperceptibly, he winced. If only he wasn't genuinely crazy about the girl.