Chapter 16

Sunday, November 2, 1997 – Los Angeles, Cedars Sinai

Soonie and Daisy forged an unspoken bond, however tenuous or temporary, out of their mutual need to protect Enos with whatever means were within their power. If that was limited to relieving any additional pressure on him, they worked together to keep him calm.

As hopeful and optimistic as Enos usually tried to be, his thoughts were filled with years of experience that weighed him down with probabilities he couldn't ignore. If nothing was wrong, Inez would have called him immediately. If Inez had simply found her not at home and with nothing to explain it, she would have called him back within half an hour at the most. After an hour without a call from her, Enos knew Inez was securing a crime scene.

Sunday, November 2, 1997 – Los Angeles, 131 North Hamilton

Arriving at Kate's four-story apartment building, Inez met with the uniformed patrol officers who had rolled-up only a minute or two before. There was no super or manager in residence to give them access to Kate's apartment. After getting no answer at the keyless entry door and not having the code, she rang the other two tenants' buzzers and identified herself to gain entry.

When several knocks and clearly identifying themselves did not provide any response from inside the apartment, Inez cited 'reasonable grounds' for the record. She instructed the officers to force the door. Once in, it was apparent there had been a struggle violent enough to have caused furniture to be knocked over, glass to be broken, and blood to be splotched on the couch where Inez had sat five months earlier. The door had not been forced before their arrival. Kate Broussard was nowhere to be found.

A short time later, outside the cordoned-off section of the street, neighbors in units A and C, who claimed not to have seen or heard anything, wanted to know when they could get back into their apartments, and two news vans had arrived. After midnight, there were only a few other looky-loos around to gawk at the activity. That would inevitably increase by daylight along with more news vans, cameras, and reporters - the good, the bad, and the ugly.19

Yellow crime scene tape surrounded two patrol units, a gray Crown Vic, a silver F150, and the CSU van. Portable lighting fixtures had been set up to accommodate the uniformed and plainclothes police personnel entering and exiting the building.

Inside Apartment B, the forensics technicians were looking for any trace evidence: latent fingerprints, DNA, and blood spatter, anything that could help determine the 'who' and the 'when' of what happened in that apartment that had terminated in the crime scene before them. Gloved in light blue vinyl, Detective Gordon Thompson pressed the button to review messages on the answering machine and found five that had not been cleared - three he had expected from Inez De Pina and two left by Detective Enos Strate. He reviewed the messages left by Strate three times, attempting to understand why his straight-arrow partner let one of the women in his life go to San Francisco alone, hustled the other one on a plane back to Georgia, and headed for Kate Broussard's apartment in the middle of the night.

The first message said, "Kate, just want to let you know I'm leavin' the airport. I should be there in about half an hour. Don't do anything until I get there."

The second message said, "Kate."

[A pause]

"Kate, are you there? Pick up if you're there. Please pick up - - - - - - -"

[A long pause]

Thompson didn't know Strate as well as Inez and thought he might be reading more into the tone of his voice than there actually was. He called her over and re-played the messages. The extended pause at the end of the second message confirmed it for Inez, for it was the silence of sudden realization - and fear.

"Timestamp on the first message is close to the time he must have left the airport and the time stamp on the second message," Thompson said, "matches the information we got an hour ago from the employee that was on the night shift at the store when–"

"–he called from the prepaid phone he bought. Must have been why he stopped," Inez said, retracing the timeline in her head. "Would have taken him fifteen minutes or so to purchase the phone and then call Kate…So. Where is the phone?"

"Uniforms searched the parking lot three times and found nothing except the wallet and the debris, which they sent to forensics. They haven't called to say they found–" Thompson put his notebook in his pocket. "I'm all over it."

Sunday, November 2, 1997 – Los Angeles, Cedars Sinai

The sun was still three hours from peeking over the horizon when Inez returned to Cedars. E had already waited without any information since eleven. Stopping outside the door of his room, she asked Officer Sanchez, "He been giving you any grief?"

"Supervising nurse took the bedside phone. She threatened to sedate him if he didn't settle down and stop making his blood pressure go up. Had two other nurses with her. Looked to me like she wasn't bluffing. It's been quiet as a tomb in there ever since."

Inez had guessed as much when she didn't get another phone call. "Ms. Mun and Ms. Duke still in there?" she asked. She hadn't seen them in the waiting room when she passed. Officer Sanchez confirmed it with a nod. After taking a second to expel a long breath, Inez opened the door.

"Could you give us the room, please?" she asked, avoiding eye contact with E and directing her attention to Soonie and Daisy. She might as well have looked at E directly. He knew.

After they were in the room alone, she stood on the left side of the bed, just out of reach. Any closer might mean the difference between E holding it together and losing it.

Clearly, and with professional detachment, she gave him a blow by blow description of what they had found at Kate's apartment, everything they knew so far, and action that had already been taken.

"I'm sorry, E. I wish I could have brought better news."

It was the confirmation and the guilt that, if he could have made himself remember, he might have been able to help Kate, stopped anything from happening to her, or saved her from it that hit him the hardest.

Folks back home would likely not be surprised to read Enos Strate's psych evaluations. When he decided to go back to L.A., many in Hazzard tried to talk him out of it, worried he wasn't cut out for it. Too soft-headed. Too soft-hearted. He'd thought the same for a long time until Turk persuaded him to try again. The only one who didn't try to talk him out of going back was Sheriff Rosco.

With enough credits for three years of college courses in Criminal Justice under his belt before leaving Georgia, the soft-headed argument flew out the window. And, as it turned out, a high degree of empathy wasn't something the LAPD considered a disqualification as long as it helped rather than hindered him in the performance of his duties.

Scenes of violent crimes by their very existence are distressing. No one ever gets used to it. You simply get past it to do the job. Once, he and Dylan Greer, his patrol partner at the time, had been first on a scene so gruesome that, as seasoned as they were by then, had made them both vomit up their lunch. He had proven he could handle the stress. It would never be easy.

But Kate was family.

He couldn't close his mind to dark thoughts, darker than those dredged up by the saddest thing he had ever heard. Try as he might, unbidden and uncheckable, Enos's mind conjured up images of what it must have been like for Kate. She would have put up a fight.

His anger at the state of little Radmila's battered body was only compounded by Kate's abduction. This time, he didn't push it down or try to keep it at bay. He let it in. He wanted to hang on to the anger - at whoever had killed Radmila and taken Kate. At himself for not being able to remember, at whoever had made him that way when Kate needed him.

He failed her, just as he had failed Latoya. This time, however, he would not allow it to derail him.

When Inez returned to the waiting room, she found the atmosphere somewhat different from the one she had left hours earlier.

Responding to the somber question on both their faces, she told them, "He let the nurse give him a light sedative, enough to make him sleep for a few hours. At least until we know more. He can be released later today if he minds his p's and q's and follows the doctor's orders for the next eight hours. I'll tell you what I can, then we need to talk logistics."

Neither Soonie nor Daisy said a word, sitting in pensive silence while Inez gave them an overview of what she had found at Kate's apartment, minus the evidentiary details.

The logistics entailed both Daisy and Soonie leaving the hospital before Enos was released. Daisy couldn't stay at Enos's apartment; it was still part of an active investigation. Inez would allow Daisy to stay with her, but it would be problematic at best. It looked like a hotel might be the only solution where security could be provided. However, that might leave Daisy exposed and easily accessible by the media or anyone who might want to get to Enos through the people he cared about. It could only be a temporary solution.

Soonie, although she could not have told anyone why, suggested Daisy stay at her apartment for the duration or until a more viable situation could be found, or until Daisy could get on a plane back to Hazzard. Soonie's building was adequately secure, with coded entry and on-site internal security, and would require only one unmarked police detail to be assigned. It was logical. Inez, though she suspected Kay's motives, had to admit that option would contain the situation while involving minimal department resources.

Daisy might have called the invitation magnanimous but thought it was more like 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer.' Then, she thought how mean and spiteful it sounded…thoughts born of exhaustion.

When Daisy accepted, Inez was as surprised as she seemed to be at herself. Her reasons for accepting the offer, Soonie could not have guessed, and she didn't delude herself that the close quarters would give them a chance to bond or become friends.

Soonie needn't have worried about matching Daisy's swagger, not today. Feeling neither demonstrative nor forthright at the moment, Daisy had been thoroughly and adequately humbled to the point she had accepted the invitation to stay at Soonie's apartment until Inez could find a place for her, or until she could go back to Georgia.

"Turk," Enos said quietly.

Turk was camped out in Enos's room; he'd been there since daybreak. Elbow propped on the arm of what had to be the most uncomfortable chair in the hospital, he leaned his cheek on his fist in a spurious half-sleep. Earlier, they had talked a little about the squirrely CI that Turk had identified for Inez. Enos hadn't wanted to talk about anything else - unless it was the flint directly related to sparking his memory.

"Turk."

"Hmmm? What? You need the nurse?"

"No, I need some paper and a pen."

"You remember something?"

"No. Maybe. Just wanna organize what I do remember and try to fill in the gaps."

Turk left the room and returned with a legal pad and a couple of pens and deposited them on the rolling bed tray, positioning it over Enos's lap.

"You got those faxes Inez sent over? The timelines Soonie and Daisy wrote?" Enos asked.

"Yeah," Turk said and dug them out from under the pile of papers Inez had either faxed or sent by Angie Kim. "You want a sounding board? Might help."

"Not right now. I need to think. Don't you have a task force to run?"

"It's Sunday. My team hasn't had a break in three weeks. We all needed some downtime."

"Then Shawnee must be fit to be tied 'cause you're not home with her. When you gonna marry that woman anyway?"

"What are you, my mother? Tell me why we're friends again?"

"Turk, I need some alone time. Need to think."

"Okay, I'll go get something to eat in the cafeteria and try to stretch it out. Will a couple of hours be enough?"

"If I can't get ridda you for good, guess so."

Turk grabbed Enos's go-bag from the closet and started toward the door.

"You don't trust me?"

"Not any farther than I can throw you Buddy Roe, and you outweigh me by a few pounds."

By the time Turk returned to the room, Enos had nearly filled the legal pad's pages with notes and questions. He handed them to Turk.

"See if any of that makes sense."

Putting the go-bag next to the chair, Turk started reading, shaking his head every once in a while. He hadn't finished his review when Doctor Reubens arrived around 2:00 pm

After checking Enos's chart, he did a cursory physical check and informed them that he thought, "it would be prudent for Detective Strate to stay in the hospital overnight."

"But you said last night you thought I could be released this afternoon. What changed?"

"Erring on the side of caution. I don't believe it's a good idea for you to go back to work with everything that has happened. And I suspect that is exactly what you would try to do. Releasing you was with the proviso that you get plenty of rest and no duty for at least a week. The swelling has decreased. However, stress, both physical and psychological…"

Enos listened patiently as the doctor reiterated his concerns and all the reasons he should stay, then gave him a good idea where he could shove his prudence.

Turk had already picked up his go-bag from the side of the chair and hefted it up on the nightstand.

"He'll go crazy if you don't let him out of here and probably take the rest of you with him. Trust me. You need to let him go."

"Thanks, Buddy Roe."

Sunday, November 2, 1997 – Los Angeles, Soonie's apartment

Soonie had an advantage over Daisy, albeit unintentional…she knew about her, had known for months. Daisy had no idea Soonie existed until Friday night, and she found out in a way no one should have to. It was no wonder she was resentful. 'The least I can do,' Soonie thought, 'is not to rub her nose in it.'

So, she busied herself, collecting anything in the apartment which would shout 'Enos was here' and putting them in her bedroom closet. Like photos on the fridge of their trip on the south end of the PCH, Enos in the garden of her uncle's house in San Francisco, him with the baseball team he helped to coach, and a photo of him teaching her how to aim a pistol taken by Dylan Greer. His old SWAT ball cap. The plaid shirt he wore and spilled saucy dumpling on when she had made hot pot was still hanging in the laundry room.

"Just hang on to it," he had said when she tried to return it, freshly laundered. "I'll need it next time I spill something.'

There was also a spiral notebook on the end table next to the sofa that he had forgotten to take Thursday morning. When she picked it up, the cover flipped over, revealing not only case notes but a personal 'to-do' list scrawled at the end of the top page:

Call Mr. Hargrove about the property.

Hazzard for Thanksgiving.

Ask Soonie to marry me.

Rubbing her finger over the indentations the pen had made in the paper, she felt a pang of guilt for being happy. Enos was devastated, and there was little she could do – except love him.

Daisy jolted awake to find herself in a Jacuzzi tub of hot water, in the posh apartment of a woman she had met less than two days ago, while someone she thought she knew was up to his eyeballs in a web of mystery and intrigue.

And 'Who the hell is Kate!?'

What Kate Broussard was to Enos that had affected him so, she had no idea but wanted to understand. She wanted – needed to be there for him, something she should have done long ago. She wasn't sure what to expect or what was expected of her. Enos had started to explain 'Soonie' when Inez had come into the room and turned the world upside down.

She was so tired. So bone-weary from worry about Enos, she'd almost fallen asleep in the tub, nearly slipping under the hot water like a wet dishrag, in the guest bath of his girlfriend's apartment. In her mind, she knew she had brought this on herself by getting on a plane without calling first, but it was all still more than a body could bear.

Soonie bent her head under the hot water streaming from the showerhead, both hands pressing against the tiles, unsure if she was holding the wall upright or if it was the wall keeping her from sinking onto the floor.

Amidst thoughts of all that had happened over the past five days, she thought of four-year-old Eun-kyung – born to one parent who had loved her, like the 'graceful gem' her brother believed she was when he named her, and to the other parent who had abandoned her when she was only three months old. Jae-sung had raised the child on his own. Going to the Congo while Gem was so young was, to Soonie, an unfathomable choice no matter how noble the cause. Gem must be feeling abandoned again and so alone.

Soonie's father continued to give her the silent treatment. Whenever she phoned, the housekeeper was profusely apologetic and asked her to understand. But Soonie understood - too well. Her father had been distant to her after the divorce and avoided her at Jae-sung's wedding. He refused to speak to her at all after she became an American citizen. Yet, she continued to hope that someday the love he had for her when she was young would overcome ingrained tradition and archaic notions about family honor.

Stepping out of the shower, she heard her mobile phone ring in the bedroom. Long strands of hair dripping onto the carpet, she threw on her robe and was still tying it as she dove for the phone next to the bed.

"Hello…Hello," she said, breathless from the effort.

"Kyung-soon," her uncle Sang-jun said on the other end.

"Uncle." There was an unmistakable tinge of disappointment in her voice.

"Are you not well, Kyung-soon?"

"I am as well as can be managed, Uncle. May I call you back? I am expecting a call from Enos."

"You may. However, it is most important I speak to you as soon as possible."

"Yes, Uncle, I will. Please forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive. However, you must call me as soon as you are able."

"I will, Uncle. Thank you for understanding."

Soonie hung up the phone and slumped over onto the bed, her heart thumping fast in her chest from the hot shower, the phone still in her hand. She could wait for whatever new and weighty news her uncle needed to impart.

Sunday, November 2, 1997 – Los Angeles, Parker Center

Inez pulled Enos aside while Turk talked to Thompson about any drug-related connection to the trafficking suspects arrested on Wednesday.

"You look a little better, anyway."

"Not quite as scary?"

"You never look scary unless you're trying to," she smiled. "You look like you need some sleep."

"All I been doin' the last couple of days is sleepin.' When I get back to my place tonight–"

"You can't go back to your apartment. You're staying with Thompson. He's already said it was okay."

"Angie said the tech guys released my place."

"They did. And you're supposed to still be in the hospital, yet here you are. Even if you don't need sleep, I do. Let's just say you're doing it for my peace of mind. You can see your primary tomorrow. Then, we'll see. Besides, you can't drive. Your wallet and license are still in forensics, and your truck is in impound."

Defeated, he said, "But I don't wanna stay with Thompson. Can't I stay with you?"

"Now you're being whiny. Sound like Aaron when he got the flu last year."

"That bad, huh?"

She crossed her arms and gave him a look.

He'd meant to tell Inez how much it annoyed him when she was right, and he couldn't figure out a way to make her 'not right.' However, he knew she was right, and he would comply, if for nothing else than to avoid any situation where he might be banned from the office altogether. Inez would revert to being his TO again if she thought he was acting stupid about it, and it appeared she was close to that now. As a training officer, she had been one tough cookie.

Technically on medical leave, he was relegated to paperwork and coordinating information to free up the other detectives who had their own files to resume investigating come Monday morning.

Sunday, November 2, 1997 – Los Angeles, Soonie's apartment

Daisy finished her bath, dried the tips of her hair, and changed into jeans and a plaid button-up shirt. It was the last set of clothes she had brought with her for the three days she thought might be needed to get answers – on his turf, not hers.

A little after three in the afternoon, Turk Adams called up from the street entrance. Answering his knock at the door, Daisy couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd needed to see a familiar face.

"Hi, Daisy. Long time." As proxy for his best friend, he pulled her into a hug. She looked like she needed one.

"Yeah, I guess that's my fault," she said, pulling away slightly so she could see his face. It was eleven years older since she'd seen him last. A mischievous gleam in his eyes confirmed he was still sowing a few wild oats. She wasn't surprised Enos and Turk were buddies. Turk would be as 'at home' in Hazzard as he was on the streets where he grew up and proved it when he visited a month or so before Enos returned to Los Angeles, in '87.

"Where's Kay? I need to talk to both of you."

She pointed over her shoulder to Kay's closed bedroom door. "She took a shower. I expect she's finished by now. Should I knock on her door?"

"Not yet," he said. "Daisy, how the hell did you manage to find yourself here…at Kay's apartment, I mean. For that matter, why did you get on a plane without calling first?"

Turk was not one to mince words or tiptoe around a subject. And, as far as she could remember, no one else had asked the question since she arrived, including Enos. Of course, their conversation had not amounted to diddly squat, except to confound her.

"I'm beginnin' to wonder myself. Seemed like a good idea at the time," she said, palms up, pulling away from the hug. "How's Enos?"

"He's doing as well as he can be right now. I'll give you as many details as I can when Kay is ready." Turk flashed her a weak smile.

"It's okay. I understand."

"Do you?" he asked, with more than a bit of doubt hanging on the question mark.

"Let's say, I'm trying."

He thought Daisy, completely lacking guile, was as easy to read as anyone he had ever met. Shuckin' and jivin' the local Hazzard constabulary didn't count. He had met Rosco and Boss Hogg. What a pair those two were. He never could understand Enos's deep affection for Rosco. Then, some people wouldn't have put him and Enos together either.

Soonie took an inordinate amount of time to finish drying herself. When she heard Turk's voice through the door, she pulled a pair of capris and a sleeveless top out of the closet and dressed. She'd been putting off the inevitable of being in the same room with someone with whom she had only one thing in common at the moment – they were both waiting for a phone call.

After a moment's pause, with her hand on the doorknob, she entered once more unto the breach, reminding herself Daisy had walked into something she neither imagined nor bargained for. 20

Turk didn't sugar coat what they knew so far or what they suspected. He told them about the messages on Kate's machine, the prepaid phone, everything that might help them fill in any blanks in the events which precipitated Kate's disappearance and Enos's attack.

"We believe, at the moment, he called Kate sometime earlier in the evening in response to a message she had left on his machine before he took you to the airport," he said to Daisy.

Then to Soonie, "He can't get his phone records until tomorrow morning, and we have a tech working on his home phone to see if we can pull any outgoing calls before then; we're not counting our chickens. We picked up the one message from Daisy telling him she was in LA at," he flipped the folder open, "6:05 Friday night and one from Kate at 8:56 pm asking him to call her. His phone was damaged in the accident after the raid. Did he ask for your phone - or do you remember him being called to the phone while you were at the Halloween Ball?"

"No. I was playing with the ensemble or doing a solo most of the evening. Enos was talking to prospective donors or volunteers. I saw him speaking with one of the board members for about ten or fifteen minutes. However, I am extremely focused when doing solo performances. I might have missed something."

"He remembers most, not so much in detail but bits and pieces, up until he picked you up Friday evening and that Kate wasn't at the ball because she was 'pre-committed.' And he didn't say anything to you about a phone call with Kate while you were at the ball?"

"No, nothing," Soonie said.

"And he didn't seem concerned about anything?"

"When we left, the only topic of conversation was my brother's plane crash," she paused only for a moment, "and he asked if I wanted to drive to my uncle's house in San Francisco then, instead of waiting until Saturday morning."

"That much was in your statement," he said and pulled a photo out of the file folder he'd brought with him. "Do you recognize this man?"

"He is the man Enos was speaking to outside his apartment building on Friday night. He knew him."

"I identified him from the sketch made from your description. His name is Warren Underwood…one of our confidential informants…we called him 'Squiggy.' Back when Enos and I knew him, he was mostly a low-level gopher for street thugs and pimps. Even Enos thought he was unredeemable, and that's saying something. Neither of us has seen him in, gotta be, sixteen years. Why he approached Enos where he lives after all this time is still a mystery." 22

"Enos still doesn't remember?" Daisy asked flatly.

"No, at least not that part. Anything on Friday close to the time he was attacked is still a blank slate. We think Squiggy," Turk tapped the face on the photo, "may have been what started setting off his alarm bells, and then it escalated from there into him making a beeline to Kate's apartment after the second message. Still trying to locate Squiggy, but the little weasel's gone underground."

Soonie put her hand on his shoulder and asked, "Turk, do you want some coffee?"

"No, thanks, Kay…Daisy, I know you declined to say anything about what transpired between you and Enos after Kay left his apartment Friday night, but now, we need to know. If for nothing else, to help jump-start Enos's memory. Did he say anything to make you think he was concerned?"

Kay interrupted. "I need to call my uncle and will be in my room when you need me." She focused her attention on Turk.

So did Daisy.

"Thanks, Kay."

After Soonie pulled the door shut behind her, Daisy related the strange exchange between her and Enos after Kay left.

After Kay bolted out of the apartment on Halloween night like somebody set her petticoat on fire, everything got weird.

When Enos came back into the apartment, the first thing he'd asked her was, "When did you get here, Daisy?"

"A couple of hours ago. I left a message on your machine when I landed. I didn't get an answer on your mobile phone either. So, I decided to come to your apartment and wait. You weren't home, and I met Mrs. Huang in the hall. Enos, who is that woman in the purple dress?"

"Possum on a gum bush. I'm glad to see you, Daisy. You want somethin' to drink? You must be parched. This Los Angeles air will dry you out fast. Spent my first week or two with a bloody nose…"

He kept on in the same flustered manner for at least another twenty minutes, rattling on about Uncle Jesse and Bo and Luke, and Mizz Tisdale. She couldn't get a word in edgewise. Or maybe it was because he seemed like the Enos Strate that left Hazzard almost eleven years ago and not the Enos Strate she had been talking to on the phone for the last couple of months. Out of the blue, she wondered which was the real Enos and which was the actor.

"Did I ask if ya' wanted somethin' to drink?"

"Yes, you did. I had enough tea with Mrs. Huang that my eyes are floating. Can I use your bathroom?"

"Course, Daisy. It's right through there." Starting to pace, he pointed to his bedroom. That's when she remembered he had not sat down the whole time.

She got up from the couch shaking her head. Closing the bedroom door behind her, she leaned with her back against it and wondered, certainly not for the first time that day, if she had made the right decision to come to L.A.

She'd had no idea why she felt so nervous being in his apartment, let alone in his bedroom. After all, she'd slept in his room one night, back in Hazzard. Questions about the beautiful woman in the sexy dress were replaced by taking in the surroundings. Had he become a cloistered monk? The bedroom was sparse, except for the neatly made double bed, a nightstand, and a dresser with her picture on it. The same photo of her had been on his dresser in the boarding house the night she'd had to sleep over behind a silly 'wall of Jericho,' and the day they almost got married – the first time. There was nothing else, no pictures hanging on the wall, no other photos in the room, and no personal items sitting about.

She used the facilities and washed her hands, seeing herself in the mirror for the first time since she had used the restroom at the airport, noting the changes since the photo on his dresser was taken. When she finished and re-entered the living room, he was on the phone talking to someone about flight schedules and plane tickets. Things went downhill from there.

"Daisy, you have to go home."

"Why? What's wrong? Something's going on you're not telling me. What is it?"

"I can't explain right now, but you need to go," he said in the same masterful voice he'd used earlier.

He wouldn't take no for an answer. Before she knew it, they were on their way to the airport in complete silence. When they got out of his truck at LAX, and he pulled her luggage out of the truck bed, she tried again to ask him why she had to leave.

All he said was, "Please, Daisy. Please do what I ask. I'll tell you when I can. Right now, I need you to go home."

She unlocked the chain around her neck and removed the ring. Putting it in his hand, she looked up at him with every question imaginable and undisguised hurt on her face.

"I'm so sorry, Daisy. I didn't want it to be like this. I promise I didn't. I was plannin' on comin' for Thanksgiving. We can talk about it then. There's things goin' on right now I need to take care of. Things you shouldn't be involved in. You keep the ring. I gave it to you. I don't want it back."

She closed his hand around the ring with hers and said, "Keep it. Bring it with you Thanksgiving. If you still want me to have it. Ask me then."

"It didn't register at the time," she told Turk as she finished relating the events of Friday night. "looking back...I've known him long enough to know when he's scared. And I think he was scared. I think it was the only reason I agreed to let him pay for the ticket. The only reason I agreed to go. That's it, Turk. He left the airport, and the next time I saw him was in the hospital late last night," she said. She had her hands in her lap and was staring at them. "I can see now he had good reason to be scared."

When Soonie was back in the room, she asked if they would be releasing Enos from the hospital.

"Here's the thing," he said, clearing his throat. "He checked himself out of Cedars earlier. I dropped him off at the office so he could help with the investigation. He'll be staying with Detective Thompson, at least until he can go back to his own apartment."

When the thought occurred to Daisy that 'checked himself out' might not be the same as 'released,' she asked about it.

"Doctor thought it would be a good idea for him to stay another night. He disagreed. End of story. Once he gets something into his head," Turk started to say 'only a bullet…,' but saying instead, "not much will stop him. Inez and their team will keep an eye on him," he said and hesitated. "Until we know more, you may not see him for a few days. He won't put either of you in harm's way." He directed his attention to Daisy. "Before I go, though, I have to tell you something…about Kate. By tomorrow, it's going to be all over the news. Maybe not tomorrow, but eventually...they will unearth her past…and her association with En–"

"Turk," Soonie said, placing her hand gently on his arm. "I will tell her."

Turk turned to her, his expression asking, 'Are you sure?'

Soonie nodded.

"Kay, can I talk to you in the hall for a sec? Sorry, Daisy." He hugged her again and started for the door.

Kay had given Daisy the privacy she needed. Uncle Jesse would tell her it would be unbecoming of a Duke, and not how Aunt Lavinia taught her to behave, for her not to do the same. Lordy – this was one strange week.

When he and Soonie were in the hall, Turk said, "Didn't know you knew so much about Kate...or their therapy sessions, until Enos told me this afternoon."

"All the time we spend together, we have to talk about something."

"Uh-huh. Shawnee and I don't talk about stuff like that."

"Perhaps you should," she said.

"Maybe," he grinned sheepishly. "Are you sure you're prepared for what's coming? I mean, Enos is not going to stop until he finds her, alive hopefully. If she's dead, he's going to hit a low point…" he couldn't finish the thought out loud. "The last time he hit a low, it took six years to get my best friend back."

"I know," she said.

"He told you about that too?"

"Latoya? Yes."

"Then, you know what might happen. Are you prepared for that? 'Cause if you're not, walk away now. Don't wait until it's on top of a worse-case scenario he feels responsible for."

"He is what he is. Why would I leave him for the very reason I fell in love with him in the first place?"

"That's what I wanted to hear. Always knew you were a keeper. You and Daisy going to be alright here together?" he asked. "She is a nice person, and I think she does love him in her own way."

Amazing what a hot shower and a friendly face can do for attitude. That is until Soonie walked back into the living room to the possibly-not-quite-yet-ex fiancé of the man with whom she wanted to have children standing in it.

Daisy was waiting for her. More patiently than she had expected. Clearly, she wanted answers, and Soonie was unsure which ones she could give and which ones only Enos should provide.

She thought of asking Daisy if she preferred coffee or tea. Instead, opening the refrigerator, she pulled out a bottle of soju, poured the wine into two shot glasses, and handed one to Daisy.

Before Daisy could put the glass to her lips, Soonie warned, "You should be careful. It can sneak up on you."

Daisy took a sip, licked her lips, and put the glass on the counter.

"So, Kay. What do I need to know about Kate and Enos before it gets splashed all over the news?"

Sunday, November 2, 1997 – Los Angeles, Thompson's apartment

Thompson's living space might have been more up-scale than Enos's, the reason it could be called a condo, but was still as bereft of that 'lived-in' feeling. With only one bedroom, Enos expected to be sleeping on the couch. Refusing to take anything other than over-the-counter for pain, he still had a whale of a headache, and his nose hurt. A lot. As dragged-out weary as Enos was, he didn't care where he tried to sleep as long as it wasn't in the hospital or away from the investigation. The only reason he agreed to bunk with Thompson was to stay as close to it as he could and told himself the arrangement was only temporary.

"You take the bedroom. I'll take the couch," Thompson said, pulling a beer for himself and a bottle of water for Strate out of the fridge.

"I'll be fine on the couch."

"No, you'll be fine on the bed. De Pina would bludgeon me–"

"Why does everybody keep sayin' that?" He was edgy enough without Thompson making it worse. Unfortunately, irritability was one of the after-effects of a concussion.

Wondering who else had had the balls to say it, Thompson risked life and limb by shooting back with, "I knew your head was too hard to do any real damage, but are you seriously that blind?"

Enos stood up too fast and got dizzy.

Feeling Thompson's hand under his left arm, he snapped, "I'm okay. Don't need any coddlin,'" then, went rigid to keep from swaying.

Thompson stepped back. "I can see that. But you should try to get some sleep. Lieutenant Adams said the doctor recommended rest as much as possible."

Enos flashed him a look which clearly broadcast, 'are you kidding?'

"Look," said Thompson, exhaling with frustration. "You can't do Kate any good if you collapse. Bow to the logic, Strate. Rest might help you remember."

Bowing to a logic he couldn't dispute and that played to his own agenda, he let Thompson carry his go-bag into the bedroom, which was less sparse than the living room. Besides the bed and a dresser, a bookshelf was filled with books that looked well-read, a worktable with model paints and brushes recently used, and on the shelves above sat several completed models.

"If you say a word," Thompson warned, dropping the bag inside the door, "You'll be the one with a bruised larynx."

After Thompson left the room, Enos sat on the bed, looking up at the Starship Enterprise and the Millennium Falcon, and wondered how many other fascinating things he didn't know about the man.

Pulling off his jacket to hang over the back of the worktable chair, Enos pulled out the baggie of pearls from his inside coat pocket and sat back on the edge of the bed. Inez had returned them to him before he left the office. The pearls reminded him of how much he wanted - needed - to be with Soonie.

Wednesday night, she had fallen asleep in his arms, not for the first time. This time, though, he didn't wake her at midnight. The curfew he had set was the way he kept himself in check.

It would seem silly, moralistic, and likely high and mighty to folks on the west coast. Why not? His title as the 'oldest virgin in Hazzard County' had reached legendary status. Only those mean of spirit used the title derisively. Most of the time, he had been looked upon by the people of Hazzard sympathetically, maybe even pityingly. Heck, a few admired him, although they would not have subscribed to the philosophy themselves. He also held the title as the only honest police officer in the county. Though Aunt Judy would say 'pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before the fall,' he was proud to accept both titles. 23

All those years, Enos had been celibate by choice, not from lack of opportunity. There had been plenty. In the eighth grade, Alice Jean Davenport, among others, had taken a shine to him. By that time, he was already smitten with one girl. The beginnings of his virginal reputation had mainly been due to the sting felt by those of the female persuasion having their downright forward advances summarily rejected. When he was eighteen, a female cadet at the police academy in Atlanta hit on him more than once, and she wasn't at all subtle about it.

By the time he reached twenty-five, he had perfected the art of avoiding sticky situations or deflecting unwanted and unsolicited advances with a carefully developed strategy of feigning ignorance or naiveté. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it backfired, and he had to flat out tell them he wasn't interested. He found jabbering away like an addle-pated magpie worked the best. They eventually got bored or thought there was something wrong with him and left him alone.

His libido was alive and functioning, thank you very much, and what made him blush like his face was on fire. It all came down to one thing - Enos Strate had no hankering for casual, let alone recreational sex. He wanted it all - love, marriage, sex, the whole enchilada in one package with a bow on top, and he would be ding-danged if he would ever settle for less. For the longest time, he truly believed 'the package' came in the form of Daisy Duke. Blushing became a persistent personality trait when Daisy was around. One, he loved Daisy. Two, he wanted to marry her. Sex was something he had long thought would naturally follow one and two. The two ingredients he had failed to include in the delicately constructed recipe and the neat package he had imagined was passion and the kind of unrelenting desire that takes your breath away.

Enos was not bereft of passion. He was passionate about being a decent and honest human being, about being a good police officer, and eventually, a good detective. That passion led him away from Hazzard and Daisy to Los Angeles the first time when he followed his dream of being a big-city policeman in 1980. He told himself then that he was doing it to deserve Daisy and make her proud of him. He thought she held the key to unlocking his dreams. The second time he came back, in '87, was all for himself. Took him a long time to admit that.

He wanted to be something other than the bumbling, lovable-like-a-puppy-dog Deputy Sheriff he had allowed himself to become to keep his job and stay honest back in Hazzard. He wanted to make a difference in the world. The desire for those things became a passion he couldn't satisfy in Hazzard. Not anymore.

He had found the keys to his dreams in the form of an ex-pat from South Korea who made him cry with her violin, yelled at him in Korean, made him feel like he could conquer the world, and who, at the moment, was sleeping in his arms. It caused him, lately, to push his self-imposed boundaries to the maximum limit.

Soonie had curled her knees up and rested them on his leg, and her arm was around his middle. When her hair fell over her face, he gathered up the strands and placed them behind her ear as gently as he could so as not to wake her. When they were alone, she wore her hair down.

Stirring in his arms, Soonie settled her head quietly onto his chest, her hair falling again over her face. He could feel her heart beating steadily and knew she was sleeping. It was already past one. How many nights had he wanted to stay past his self-imposed boundary between wanting her so much it made him ache and loving her so much he felt like he couldn't breathe?

Curfew and boundaries be damned. He wouldn't leave her alone tonight.

The sandman wouldn't visit as quickly for Enos though, too many things on his mind. Taking a fresh spiral-bound notebook from his inside jacket pocket, he started jotting down notes about the trafficking victims and the evidence haul he wanted to follow up. Wasn't easy one-handed. He had to rest the notebook on the arm of the couch and write while it teetered back and forth on the rounded surface.

None of the young girls rescued in the Wednesday raid spoke English, and they'd had to wait for an interpreter. The girls were afraid. Though Kate, through the interpreter, had tried to reassure them, the interviews still had not gleaned much information by the end of the day. Enos interrogated the man in the closet, whose name they didn't yet know, who still refused to say, or sign, anything substantive. The ledgers had been sent to forensic accounting for translation and analysis. He'd tried to pin the accountants down on a time frame, but they wouldn't budge from 'when we finish, you'll be the first to know.'

He finally started getting sleepy around three when Soonie shifted again. Fluttering her eyes open, she looked up at him with a sleepy smile. "What time is it?"

"Doesn't matter. Go back to sleep."

He pressed his lips gently on her forehead, then watched her until she was sleeping again. Before closing the notebook and putting it aside on the table, he wrote three personal notes at the end of the first page, things he wanted to do soon. Tomorrow, they would have to deal with her brother's plane crash. Then, he leaned his head back on the sofa cushion and went to sleep.

When he woke, his arms were empty. Soonie was making soft noises in the kitchen, and he realized it was morning. He ignored his sore back and stiff muscles. It was well worth it to have been able to hold her through the night.

"Hey," he said. "You okay?"

"Yes, I am okay. Thank you for staying."

He kissed her and looked at his watch. "Not sure if I have time to go by my apartment to change before I go to work."

"Your jacket is wrinkled."

"Guess it is. Don't have time to worry about that either."

"Take it off. I will steam it for you while you clean up."

She helped him off with his jacket, folded it in half, and draped it over her arm.

When he came out of the bathroom, she had not only steamed the jacket, she had poured him a cup of coffee, doctored with just the right amount of cream and sugar.

"You'll call me if you hear anything about your brother?"

"I will."

"Call my desk extension. I won't get another mobile 'til Monday."

She nodded and pulled her hair out of the way, exposing the marks on her neck left by the pearls she was still wearing. The pearls looked as though they were embedded in her skin. He silently berated himself for letting her go to sleep with them on.

"Oh, Soonie. That looks painful."

"It is not. Really. I tried to take the necklace off, but the clasp is stuck in my hair. Could you unfasten it?"

He reached behind her neck to feel for the catch, barely touching it when the pearls started dropping onto the floor. The string had not been knotted between each pearl; once the old silk thread gave way and the first one fell, the rest cascaded onto the carpet.

"Soonie, I'm sorry."

Before she knew it, Enos was on his knees, trying to gather the small pearls. She dropped to the floor to tell him it was okay; he would be late for work and not to worry about it. He was focused on making sure he got every single one. "Please do not be concerned about them."

"But I broke your Mama's pearls."

"Not the pearls, only the necklace. It was very old. I should not have kept them on when I got home from work. It is not your fault. They are only things. You are more important to me than things." She cupped his face in her hands. "Enos. I love you."

That was all it took. Before he could stop himself, his mouth was over hers, and his hands were all over places he knew they shouldn't be.

She offered no resistance whatsoever to help him stay in control. He could feel her body pressing into his. He laid her on the carpet and was moving his hand on the outside of her leg from her knee to her thigh when his internal alarm triggered. He pulled himself off her like he'd been jerked back by some intervening hand from the edge of a cliff.

Throwing himself back against the kitchen island, he swallowed hard and tried to catch his breath. Pulling his knees towards his chest, he bent his head between them, breathing hard. Then, he felt Soonie's hand on his arm.

When he looked at her, expecting to see revulsion, he saw only sweet, gentle understanding mixed with a tinge of disappointment.

"I'm sorry." His voice was hoarse, still trying to recover, not from what he had almost done but from the effort it took to stop himself. "I don't want you to think it's the only–"

"Why would I think that?"

"'Cause I wasn't sure for the first couple 'a months." He cleared his throat.

"Now you are?" She squeezed her hand a little tighter on his forearm.

He nodded. "Since that first kiss. Everything got real clear."**

"Enos," she whispered, "I fell in love with you the night we met, and I have been trying to seduce you ever since."

Enos swallowed hard again, bent his head back, and closed his eyes. Tears were streaming from the corners. After what seemed like forever, he pulled his head back down to face her.

"I want it to be right between us," he said. "Not like this. Not while you're worryin' about your brother." He closed his eyes to focus, wanting to use the right words. "And not while I'm still engaged to Daisy."

Soonie pulled back, her body stiffened, her face disbelieving.

"She broke your engagement when she told you she was not ready to get married again."

"I promised to wait...until she was ready, until she grew up."

"So, you are going to throw away," her voice broke, and she had to swallow the anger in her throat that was threatening to choke her, "what we could have."

"Lord in Heaven. No. Soonie, I'm not an idiot. I can't just tell Daisy over the phone. I need to go back to Hazzard and tell her in person, face to face. I know it probably doesn't make sense, but it's the only way I can make any promises to you."

Soonie thought about it for a moment and understood what he meant.

"Then, I suppose it is a good thing that at least one of us has a safety switch."

**A/N: I have written a short story, City of Lost Angels (8 chapters) that fits into this one scene for Sunday, November 2, 1997, Thompson's apartment. It can stand on its own but is also a defining moment I imagined in this story. You'll understand why it fits if you happen to read City of Lost Angels.

References:

(19) Spaghetti western file starring Clint Eastwood, Lee Van Cleef and Eli Wallach 1966

(20) "once more unto the breach" from Henry V, Shakespeare

(22) The character of Squiggy is an homage to Freddy the Ferrett portrayed by Kevin West in the DOH movie, Hazzard in Hollywood, but is also patterned loosely on his namesake, Squiggy from Laverne and Shirley, played by David Lander

(23) '"pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before the fall," - Proverbs 16:18