Chapter 2

Thursday, June 5, 1997 – Los Angeles to Hazzard County Sheriff's Department

With Thursday off and with nothing else to do, Enos decided to give Rosco a callback.

He'd never thought of him as Rosco or even Rosco P. Coltrane. Even though he often couldn't respect the underhanded things Rosco did, mostly for Boss Hogg, Enos respected the badge, and as long as it was attached to Rosco, he addressed him accordingly.

When Rosco picked up the phone, Enos said, "Hey, Sheriff, it's me, Enos Strate."

"Don't you think I recognize that high pitched voice o' yours after all these years, you dipstick?"

Enos had, unconsciously, slipped back into Hazzard mode. It was more relatable for the folks back home.

"I tried to call you yesterday," Rosco blustered, "but all I got was that blamed answer machine."

Enos lowered the register to his now more comfortable L.A. pitch – the Blue Ridge, although ever-present, intoned with less frenetic verve.

"I know, Sheriff, that's why I'm callin' you back. Everything okay back there in Hazzard? Everybody okay?"

"Everybody's fine here 'cept who do you think's back in Hazzard? I'll tell you who. That Ezra Bushmaster4, that's who."

"Whatever that snake oil salesman's sellin', it can't be good."

"Oh, he's got this hair-brained scheme ta' make money for the hospital fund. Boss run him outta town a long time ago 'cause he found out Ezra was crookeder'n he was, remember?"

"I remember Mr. J.D. said Ezra was slimier'n a eel and sneakier'n a snake, so I'd be real careful buyin' into whatever he's sellin', Sheriff."

"Well, don't you worry Enos, you can't fool Ros-co P. Coltrane, no sir."

"Yes, Sir, Sheriff."

Enos made a note to run a check on Ezra Bushmaster to determine if the slimy son-of-a-gun had any open wants, warrants, or was the subject of any current investigations so he could pass on the information about where they could find good ole Ezra to the Georgia State Police.

"So, Enos, what you been up to? Been cuffin' um and stuffin' um now you're a real live big city dee-tective."

"How'd you find out about that, Sheriff?"

"You didn't know I knew, did ya? And you never mind how I found out, Dipstick. What I wanna know is why you didn't tell anybody."

"Just didn't seem to be any opportunity, Sheriff. But I'm glad you know, you givin' me my first job as a law officer an' all and 'specially after takin' me back, you know after I came back from L.A..."

"Well, the governor of Georgia had somethin' to do with it.5 Never did find out why, though. Boss, he was so beside hisself I thought I was seein' double."

"It doesn't matter, Sheriff. Just glad you took me back."

Enos had needed something to take his mind off why he'd left Los Angeles in '81, and the nearly mindless job of being Rosco's Deputy had filled the bill.

"So how long you been sittin' on that particular bitta' news?"

"I passed my exam about six months ago."

"Six months...Well, don't tell nobody, 'cause they'd think I've gone soft, and it'd damage my spectacular reputation, but I'm proud of ya', boy. Real proud." Rosco wiped a tear from his eye and looked over at Flash, the Third laying curled up on last Sunday's edition of the Los Angeles Times.

"I promise, Sheriff, I wouldn't wanna' ruin your reputation. But only if you was to promise not to mention to anybody about me gettin' my shield."

"I don't know why you wouldn't want anybody to know."

"Just prefer not, Sheriff, if you don't mind."

"Well, I still don't understand why, but I guess if you don't want anybody…"

"Sheriff, you heard anything from Daisy? She doin' alright?"

[Rosco held his hand over the receiver and turned to Flash III. "Now why'd he have to go and bring her up for? Haven't I got enough secrets to keep? What am I gonna' tell him?"

Flash looked bored.

"You aren't any help at all to your Daddy." He took his hand off the receiver.]

"Hey, Enos, you still there?" Rosco made crackling noises into the phone. "There must be somethin' wrong with this connection."

"Yes, Sir. I'm still here. What happened to you?"

"Oh, I was just consultin' with one of my trusty deputies on an important matter."

"I thought Cletus was still your only oh-fficial Deputy."

"Well, I got other resources I use, 'cause you know Cletus is dumb as dirt. And that's a fact."

Now Enos's daddy had taught him that you shouldn't make fun of those that just couldn't help being what they are… however, Cletus wasn't the brightest bulb in the blister pack, and Rosco's basset hound probably was a step up on the evolutionary scale.

"Well, that's good. I'm glad you got other resources. I guess I'll be sayin' so long now, Sheriff. I just wanted to call and check-in. I thought I'd call you next month on the first Thursday…if you don't mind…just to see what's goin' on?"

"Well, I'll look forward to it, Enos. You take care, okay?"

"I will, Sheriff. Bye now."

After hanging up the phone, Enos shook his head. Some folks may think Rosco was the one that's dumb as dirt, but he managed to get around the question about Daisy. He had vacillated about whether asking about her at all was a smart idea and wasn't ready to push the issue.

When Rosco hung up the phone, he turned to Flash III again.

"I wish my little fat buddy was here. He'd know what to do. Course, it'd prob'ly be somethin' underhanded and sneaky like holdin' information from Daisy for ransom."

He went to Boss's portrait on the wall and placed a cover over it. "Sorry, little fat buddy, but you wouldn't approve o' doin' somethin' for free."

Rosco picked up the phone and punched in the North Carolina number Daisy Duke had left for him.

Monday, June 9, 1997 – Los Angeles

True to his word, Enos's work and mood showed improvement over the last couple of weeks. If he was still not the same as before, at least he was acting like a cop again and not a forlorn puppy. Inez didn't know how, nor did she care. That is until she saw him coming out of an apartment building off Wilshire Boulevard late one night.

Even though his mood seemed to have lightened, and she had stopped watching his every move, he was secretive. He would leave work, but he was not going home to his apartment. If he had been home, the duty logbook would have shown him 10-10A, off duty at home. He'd logged his status as 10-7B, out of service – personal.

He wasn't at the community center. In fact, the director had seen very little of him until just the past week or so and then only briefly to check on what he might be able to help with. She found some encouragement in the fact that he was getting back into something he enjoyed.

So, signing out a vehicle from impound, she followed him one night, berating herself the entire time. It was unprofessional. But, when it came to E, professional detachment was a challenge. When Enos parked outside the Hamilton Street apartment building and went inside, she waited. And waited. And she told herself he must be following up some lead or was visiting one of his confidential informants. Or,he was making a courtesy call on a victim's family. He did that kind of thing off the clock. Although he rarely announced it, he was never secretive about it.

Two hours later, he exited the building, got behind the wheel of his silver F150, and left. Inez sat in her car for more than fifteen minutes, trying to decide what to do. She finally said, "Screw it," and got out.

A quick perusal of tenant boxes revealed that K. Broussard lived in Apartment B, and Inez knew for a fact that he wasn't following up on any lead, speaking with a CI, or making a courtesy call.

Inez and Enos, while partnered in a squad car for eight months in 1987-88, had encountered Kate when she was twenty-two...before the accident...before Inez started calling him E. He was a probationary officer back then, freshly minted from the LAPD Academy. Inez had been his training officer. Much older than most rookies and having been on the streets of L.A. with Turk Adams5 in '81, he'd had the pluck to do it the right way this time around. She admired him for that.

Kate Broussard had been born and raised in New Orleans and had come to Los Angeles in the early 80s, like many other would-be starlets, to make a name for herself in Hollywood. Now thirty, Kate was a curvaceous five-foot-eight bombshell, with piercing green eyes, voluminous auburn hair that reached her shoulders, and an infectious personality. However, those attributes had not made her a star. Like too many other young girls looking for their big break, she had fallen into prostitution.6

By all accounts, she had been good at it and highly paid. At some point, however, she had taken a good look at her life and wanted out, especially when she managed to get herself mixed up with a pornography ring. When she found out they were using children, she was desperate to bust up the operation and stay alive at the same time. Getting Kate out of that mess was a feat Inez would not have thought possible. However, they had done it, mostly due to E's fierce tenacity. Once you were a friend of E, he would go the distance for you.

That was the first time Inez came up close and personal with the real Enos Strate. Not the country-boy façade that he let most of the world see, but the layers underneath to which only a chosen few were privy.

Inez pushed the button on Kate's mailbox.

"Did you forget something?" asked the slinky, inviting voice on the other end of the intercom.

Inez hesitated, then pressed the button again. "It's not Enos, Kate. It's Inez De Pina."

The voice lost its silkiness and changed from inviting to cautious. "What can I do for you?"

"We need to talk."

"Does Enos know you're here?"

"No."

Inez waited, but the voice on the other end had gone silent.

"Kate…I'm worried about him. I just want to talk. That's all."

The buzzer sounded, and Inez heard the lock bolt click on the building's entry door.

Once inside, Inez took inventory of the surroundings. She hadn't had any contact with the woman in more than eight years. The place was…subdued, conservative. She wasn't really sure what she had expected.

While Kate went to get a glass of wine for herself and coffee for her, Inez suddenly felt the urge to bolt. E might never speak to her again if he found out she had followed him, let alone intruded into…whatever this was. Still, she couldn't seem to help herself.

While pouring the wine, Kate said, "It's not what you think, you know."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I'm not providing him with…professional services. I don't do that anymore."

"I wasn't thinking that," she lied.

"Because you don't think he's capable of…"

"Don't put words in my mouth," Inez warned. As they stared each other down, she picked up the coffee and took a small sip just to have something to do. It was mellow and smooth; the Louisiana blend E kept at the office.

"Does he come here a lot?" Inez asked, trying to remain casual.

"We've kept in touch, but he hasn't been inside this apartment until recently."

"Recently…because you just moved here or recently in the last couple of weeks?"

Ignoring Inez's obvious baiting, Kate answered, "Nearly three weeks."

Now, Inez really wanted to bolt. After all, it was none of her business if he was sleeping with Kate. She couldn't believe the thought had actually taken definite form in her mind and found that possibility both nauseating and ludicrous.

"Look, I know we didn't exactly bond during our little adventure years ago," Kate said. "But I'm going to give you a pass for his sake and because I know you're worried about him. He's your friend. He saved your life, I get that. You're not the only member of the Enos Strate fan club."

Kate stood up and started to light a cigarette, then turned back to Inez. "Unless it's something more."

"More what?"

"Than just a friend."

"He's part of my unit. I've invested time and effort into his training. I am simply protecting my investment and that of the LAPD. And yes, he is a valued friend."

"Yeah...right. What is it you want to know?" Kate decided not to light up; she didn't smoke when Enos was around. Instead, she took the seat across from Inez and a large swig of her wine.

Inez shook her head and groaned. "I'm not sure. I didn't really think that far ahead when I saw your name on the mailbox."

"Shocker, huh? Virginal Cop Visits Former Hooker On Regular Basis. Story at nine."

Inez didn't have a snappy comeback for that. She was still too stunned – and pissed. Trouble was, she wouldn't have been able to say whom, exactly, she was pissed at.

Kate looked into her nearly empty wine glass. "Regardless of what some people think, he's neither an altar boy nor a poster boy for the Scouts... and there is nothing wrong with that man's libido. He just keeps it on a very, very short leash." She peered over the glass at Inez as if the statement was a question.

"I know."

"And that's why you're worried? About him being here, I mean."

"Yes, damn it." Inez understood why he couldn't confide in her…but why Kate?

"We just talked…eventually," Kate said, and seeing the conclusion-jumping behind De Pina's eyes, added, "The first couple of times he came by, he was pretty quiet. I mean, never-seen-him-that-way-before quiet. We had coffee, watched some T.V. and he left. I gave him the decaf, by the way – he already seemed to be wired tighter than a clock spring. Then, one night he just started talking. At first, it was just generalization. I let him talk until he finally started talking, and I mean he talked a lot, about what had him so twisted up."

"So…you know what happened?" Inez asked. "I mean when he went back to Georgia in April?"

Kate snorted. "You mean when the bitch broke his heart?"

"Thank you, God!" Inez groaned and collapsed back on the couch cushion. It felt good to hear someone actually say it out loud. Loyalty to E had kept her from even saying it in her own head!

"Wait, you didn't say that to him."

"Are you kidding?!" Kate said, "He would never forgive me."

"Yeah, I'll be lucky if he forgives me for this when he finds out."

"Does he have to know?"

Inez pulled a face. "Do you know him at all? It's bad enough that I've been sneaking around behind his back. Lying to him about it will just make it soooo much worse. Most of the time, the man can read guilt on my face like I was the morning paper."

"Then just don't say anything at all."

"I'm not sure the sin of omission is any better, but it might keep me off his 'you're dead to me' list."

"You're overreacting."

"Hello. L.A. Times." Inez, said, making a 'you see this' gesture to her face and then let it slump into her palms. "Oy. I really didn't think this through."

Kate kept silent.

Inez got up from the couch and started pacing, ranting about how Daisy had led E all the way to the altar and then crushed him like a bug.

When Inez looked as if she was running out of steam, Kate said, "He's more angry than hurt."

"Good for him," Inez said, still pacing, and then mumbled something unintelligible under her breath.

"At himself, not at her."

"Of course he wouldn't be angry with her! Little Miss Shine Queen of Hazzard County can do no wrong."

"I didn't say that," Kate said, although she smiled at the slur anyway.

Inez stopped pacing. "Then, you agree with me."

"I didn't say that, either."

"Well, what the hell are you saying, Doctor Broussard?...Sorry."

"He blames himself for everything. And he's not wrong."

"Now you're defending her? What about the 'bitch broke his heart'?"

Kate was as calm as Inez was agitated. "I'm not defending what she did. I just don't think it was as one-sided as we'd like to believe. You want to blame her. I wanted to hate her. We don't know what was going through her mind or her heart. And neither one of us can even begin to know what has gone between them over the last thirty years. He's loved her since they were in the seventh grade."

"How could he love someone who would do that to him?" Inez was exasperated.

"Exactly."

Kate waited.

Inez breathed out, "Oh," as it finally sank in.

"Yeah, it took me a while too. He's not mad at Daisy for being who she is. He's angry…almost to the point of bitterness at himself…for doing the same damn thing he's been doing over and over and over again for thirty-two years. He set his own trap and then walked right into it. It's just this time the trap had sharper teeth, and it almost took his leg off."

"Sounds like the kind of metaphor he would use."

"Yeah, well, those are his words. And it's not like he hasn't known it for a while. It just took near amputation to make him admit it."

Inez sighed, not from relief but from frustration.

"Look, Inez. If you really want to help him. Leave him alone to figure this out for himself. He didn't earn his way back into LAPD by climbing downhill. He's tough. But…you already know that."

"What doesn't kill us and all that?"

"Yeah. I'd say you're living proof." Kate smiled.

Before leaving Kate's apartment, Inez felt lighter than when she arrived, although there was still the problem of what to tell E or if she would say anything at all.

"You're pretty good at this, Kate. Ever thought about doing it professionally?" she asked at the door.

"Not at all. It's more exhausting than being a 'lady-of-the-evening,' and the pay's not as good. And no, I'm never going back to doing that either."

Wednesday, June 11, 1997 – Los Angeles

The heat index was not yet in the triple digits, but L.A. was hot and dry. Although El Nino was in full swing to the south, drought was still plaguing the Los Angeles area. Having been on the street in uniform for ten years, Enos braced for the hot days. Temperatures and tempers held somewhere just below flashpoint. Things could get bad enough for patrol officers, but he thought about his buddies at SWAT. He'd spent two summers with most of them, including the Simpson trial, which ran all through the summer of '95. Worse than the reaction to heat on top of crowded spaces to gang members, the poverty-stricken, and those who felt forgotten, not to mention ordinarily law-abiding citizens, was how some Officers reacted. Despite training and what he perceived as the need to be held to a higher standard, cops were men and women subject to the same petty prejudices and short fuses as anyone else. There were hate and frustration on both sides of the fence. He had come up close and personal with a few bad cops and could still taste the revulsion of it.

Having had, at last, been able to sleep through the night, Enos had started to cut down his visits to Kate.

Small victories.

After the morning briefing, he returned to his desk to make some additional notes in the Griffith Park victim's undernourished file. He hated referring to that poor child as if she were a nameless set of data, but nothing had turned up in AFIS or CODIS or national missing person searches. This girl didn't seem to have existed beyond a cold compartment in the morgue. Memories of another mutilated young girl in a cold morgue drawer pricked at his memory, and he forced them back into the place he had buried them and her long ago.

Calling the victim, barely more than a child, Jane Doe was equally as cold. So, he had taken to thinking of her as Jane.

M.E. report says Jane bled out before arm and foot removed. Asked if to hide identity – ME said arm likely site of blood loss – blood pooling other factors lead to severing of brachial artery - so not to hide identity or both?

Foot: Tatooing? Cultural marking?

Jane was a child – sexually active…Prostitution?

Hers was a well-worn story, an everyday occurrence, especially in large cities. But Enos knew in his heart that nowhere was safe, not even Hazzard County. So close to Atlanta, it was all too vulnerable to encroachment from the 'outside' world. When he had lived there during his Academy days, Hotlanta was a breeding ground for prostitution, drugs, and trafficked human beings. While Boss Hogg was alive, even though he may have been a conniving old skinflint, he was the only riffraff...and kept out all the competition. He hoped Sheriff Rosco was doing the same.

He had discussed Jane's case with Kate. For the past few years, she had worked with agencies to find and rescue exploited children and agreed with him that the young girl was most likely foreign-born and had been trafficked to California. In the absence of any evidence otherwise, Jane fit the profile they had both come to recognize.

He added to his file notes:

Trafficked from overseas? Turn over to human trafficking detectives?

Still can't figure out why she was found in such a public place. Why not the Mojave or somewhere in the Baja – or the ocean?

With his report submitted to Inez, Enos moved on to the three new cases she'd handed him during the file assignments that morning.

Besides strictly professional courtesy and his official duties, he had avoided Inez most of yesterday and had planned to avoid her again today. However, before he'd completed the follow-up requests, Inez put down the phone and called him from her desk.

"E, we're up - armed robbery, ten minutes ago, shots fired. You're with me today."

Enos put on his jacket, straightened his tie, took his radio out of the top drawer, and followed her out to the car without any acknowledgment or comment. Except for the police radio giving updated situation status, they drove the entire distance to the incident site in total silence.

After two hours of gathering initial information about the robbers, they finally left the scene to forensics to finish their work. Enos got behind the wheel and headed the car back to the office. They hadn't driven seven blocks when Inez turned to him,

"Are we going to talk about it?" she asked, in her no-nonsense voice.

"Talk about what?"

"Why you've been giving your senior officer the cold shoulder for a day and a half?"

She hadn't missed the cues. Enos tried, unsuccessfully, not to smile.

"You snake. How long were you going to make me squirm?"

"Not much longer."

"Did Kate tell you?"

"No. She wouldn't do that."

"No. I really didn't think she would...Then how did you know? I know you didn't see me tailing you."

"I might be as good a detective as you are." He popped his eyebrows up to accentuate his signature, wide-eyed innocent look.

"Not possible."

That made him smile even broader, but she could see even from his profile when his face turned serious.

"Why were you following me?" he asked.

"You were being clandestine – not like you, not even this…new you."

"Whew-wee. Clandestine. I have come up in the world."

"Shut up."

He stifled a chuckle.

"I'm sorry if I made you worry," he said. "I can tell you been sittin' on somethin' like you're hatchin' an egg. Just tell me what's on your mind. I think we've been through enough together, you and me. Professional distance be dang'd. You've earned the right."

"Thanks for that, at least," she said. The words nearly stuck in her throat. "Okay. Why didn't you tell us what you were planning? Turk didn't know. I didn't know. We thought you were just going back there for a visit. When you called from Hazzard and said you were getting married on Saturday I was shocked. And then you came home without…" Inez was afraid to say any more.

"It took me years to muster up the courage to ask Daisy to marry me. I guess I was afraid to jinx it."

"Or, maybe you thought she'd say no?"

"Maybe…Probably."

"But you asked anyway."

"I had to try. Couldn't live any longer without tryin'." For real, he thought, not because she was trying to keep me out of trouble.5

"What were you thinking would happen if she said yes, that she would move back here with you? Or were you planning to just give up everything you've worked for the last ten years and move back to Hazzard - again?" She'd made no attempt to disguise the reproach in her voice.

"I didn't think that far ahead. And when she said yes, I…I was so… My brain wasn't the one makin' those decisions. Daisy's always had that effect on me, ever since we were kids. It's not her fault. I couldn't help myself…maybe I still can't."

That last bit was not what Inez wanted to hear. And if the woman wasn't ready, she should have said so before she got his hopes up. As far as Inez was concerned, that was the unforgivable part.

After a long silence and before they reached the office, Inez asked, "So, you and me – we're good?"

"Yeah, we're good." Eyes still on the road, he reached over to brush her cheek with the back of his fingers.

Inez was instantaneously transported back to a moment when he had touched her once before with that kind of tenderness and spoke to her with soulful hazel eyes; a moment when she'd wanted to know what it would be like to be lost in him….

Even though separated from her accountant husband, if she had pursued that impulse, HR would have had her ass on a plate, and she'd no longer be E's Training Officer. That wasn't an option she could live with. At the time, she'd tried to tell herself it was transference or trauma and buried the thought so deep it had never resurfaced until now, eight years later. This time, she was legally divorced. But HR would now have both their asses on a plate. Even that wasn't what concerned her.

She was thinking that they had better stop riding together before she did something they would both regret.

References:

(4) Ezra Bushmaster is a character from The Dukes of Hazzard: Hazzard in Hollywood

(5) References to The Dukes of Hazzard TV series S5 E1 and S7 E16 and Turk Adams, played by Samuel E Wright, was Enos's patrol partner in the series spin-off Enos.

(6) Loosely based on Enos TV Series S1 E1 (or at least what I remember of it.)