Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews and encouragement! There might be a slight delay between this and the next chapter, so I apologize, but I will update as quickly as I can!

DoH DoH DoH

Bo looked at Cooter, a cold clamp tightening in his stomach. "But, this can't be him. This guy's in prison, right?"

Cooter rubbed his forehead. "He was. For a long time. " Cooter frowned for a second, then started rummaging through another box. "I have the paper around here somewhere about when he escaped a few years ago. Everyone thought he drowned in the manhunt, but I never believed it. I see I was right."

Bo, chilled, looked at the paper. It was an Atlanta paper from quite a few years before. "Why did you save all of these papers, Cooter? Was the case personal?"

Cooter looked up, sadness radiating from his face. "Danny Webber was a very close friend, Bo." Cooter stopped rummaging through the box and got a faraway look in his eyes. "He was a good man; bailed me out of more trouble than I can remember. He loved everyone he met, and everyone he met loved him. He wanted to help kids; that's why he bought that circus." Cooter dropped his eyes. "Do you know he had that circus three months before he died? Three months." He hit the box. "And that devil killed him. And you know what else?"

Bo shook his head but Cooter cut him off before he could voice his reply. "There wasn't even a good reason! Money, a woman, something like that I could understand fighting over." Cooter's voice trembled. "But just because that monster decided he was going to snap? I can't understand why Danny died for that."

Bo patted his friend's shoulder, unsure how to respond. "I'm sorry, Cooter."

Cooter shrugged. "Hearing that old name, it brought it all back, you know?" He rested his head in his hands. "Are you sure that's him?"

Bo looked at the cold, heartless eyes. "That's him."

"I hate to say this, but if he had a piece of Luke's shirt that means-" Cooter broke off.

"He had to have been near Luke, while Luke was bleeding." Bo whispered. "I don't like the looks of this, Cooter."

"I hate myself for even suggesting this, but maybe you should talk to Boss and Rosco again." The mechanic said quietly.

"I think that might be a good idea." Bo explained the bug idea Enos had had. "I think I'll head over there now." Bo handed Cooter back the papers slowly. "Cooter, no offence, but I dearly hope you're wrong about this."

"Bo, you have no idea how badly I wish I was wrong." Cooter whispered to Bo's back as the young man left the garage.

I wish Cooter wasn't right either, but we know better, don't we?

Bo slammed Boss's door open. "Hogg, me and you are going to have a little talk."

The fat man spluttered as he was hauled up by his collar. "Bo Duke, put me down before I have Rosco arrest you for assault!"

Bo obligingly let go of Boss's starched white suit, causing the portly conman to fall back into his chair hard.

"Now, you're going to tell me right now where my cousin is." He growled threateningly.

"Why, Bo, Rosco was just telling me about your cousin bein' missing, and I'm just as worried as you are about it." Boss looked like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "I was just telling Rosco to organize a search party if Luke doesn't turn up today, wasn't I, Rosco?"

The sheriff helplessly looked from his boss to the irate boy and back. "Er…"

"Rosco!" Boss snapped sharply.

"Oh, right, Boss! And I was just about to start on that, yes I was." He backed up slightly, as if inching toward the door.

"You listen to me, Hogg, and you listen good cause I'm only going to say it once." Bo said, his voice a rough growl. Boss paled at the look in Bo's eyes. "If I find out you had anything to do with Luke's disappearing, I'll come for you. And there ain't nothing on this earth that will stop me." Bo was speaking quietly, but there was more menace in his tone then if he had shouted. "You understand me, Hogg? If he so much as tripped over a rock that you kicked, I'll rip you apart."

Bo spun on his heel and stalked out of Boss's office, ignoring Boss's shouts that he would be arrested for threatening a government official. Enos, carrying a tray of food for Boss's lunch, walked past him, and a barely perceptible nod passed between them. Enos tripped, causing the tray of fried chicken and iced tea to spill all over Boss.

During the uproar that Boss caused, Enos slipped the bug expertly under Boss's desk. He stood and made his usual apologies, looking properly remorseful as he slipped out to replace the food.

"Ahh…Rosco, your deputy is a dipstick!" Boss spat. "Just look at my suit!"

Rosco hastily handed Boss the napkin from the tray, trying to calm the furious man down. "Don't worry, Boss, that should come right out."

Boss finally calmed down. "Well, never matter. Sissy contacted me this morning; that shipment is coming through at three this afternoon on the old Thatchby road. Make sure they get to the old Thatchby barn without incident, alright?"

"Thatchby road, three o'clock." Rosco nodded. "Got it, Boss. Say, Boss…"

"What?" The fat man snapped, lighting a cigar.

"What are you going to do about that Bo Duke? Suppose he-"

"Shh!" Boss waved a hand. "You think I haven't thought of him? You and I both know that Luke is just fine, I made sure of that." He paused. "Although it couldn't hurt to double check, I suppose." He stood. "My appetite has changed, and I will be eating with Lulu for lunch. Get out of my way!" He stalked out to his white car and directed his driver to head home. Rosco left as well, heading out to the old Thatchby road. After they both left, Enos slipped in and recovered the recording device from under Boss's desk. He slipped away as sneakily, heading off to play back the tape.

You know, that Enos is slicker than people give him credit. Good thing he's on the Dukes' side, huh? Speaking of the Dukes, we should check back in on old Luke.

Luke had been granted some freedom, if you could call it that. Preston had shackled him to a long chain, allowing him to walk around his rather large cellar prison. Preston had left, leaving Luke a plate of hard bread and what apparently was supposed to be stew on a table within Luke's walking reach. He had been gone the entire day, and Luke had used the time to pace every inch he could in the place. He of course was not able to reach the stairs that lead out of the cellar, and the bricks and chain were sturdy and unbreakable. He already had discovered his knife was missing; whether Preston took it or he lost it earlier, he didn't know.

As to the items he could reach, Luke found he could walk to the table that held the food, a lamp, and pitcher of water and an old tin cup. He could also reach his cot, one box full of blankets, and a bucket that he could easily guess the purpose for. However, the boxes with useful supplies, the CB, and anything Luke could use as a weapon were far against the wall by the stairs, well out of Luke's reach. He even went as far as his chain would go, laid down on the damp cellar floor and stretched as far as his arms would go, but he was still about four feet shy of the supply boxes.

Frustrated, Luke began pacing again, hearing the chain drag behind him. He had run through every possibility to escape in his mind, mentally using everything he could think of to either break the chain or unlock the shackle. When he ran out of his fictitious options, he began to plan for when Preston came back. He could quite possibly use something to knock Preston out and escape…but Preston was a larger man than Luke; it would take quite a lot to knock him out. And he would have to be unlocked from his leash to escape, and he doubted Preston would have his guard down. The man had thought of everything up to this point, why would he stop now? He had even been careful not to leave a fork or a handle on the bucket for Luke to use to jimmy the shackle open.

"Come on, Lukas." Luke said out loud, mostly to relieve the pressing silence. "There has got to be a way out of here. You just got to think." He slammed a fist against the stone wall, then winced at the pain. "Idiot. Come on, think!" He snapped at himself, then sank onto the cot. "You got to get out of here. I got to get out of here." He whispered, then took some deep breaths to calm himself. Panicking would get him nowhere.

"Come on, if Bo was here, you would have some grand scheme to get out and it would work." Luke said. "Why can't you do that when it is just you? Because you and Bo have never been in a position like this, probably." Luke sighed, rubbing his head. "I'm talking to myself. Great." He looked over his prison once more and groaned.

He lay back on the cot and closed his eyes. He hoped Uncle Jesse, Daisy and Bo weren't worrying too badly. Yeah, right. Uncle Jesse probably has a tri-county search party going on, Daisy is probably recruiting every passing travelers in the Boar's Nest, and Bo…Bo will be jumping creeks and kicking over stones himself to find me. If I am still in Hazzard County, they'll find me. Luke comforted himself slightly. I just hope they find me in time. No, Luke, don't think like that. Be rational. He scolded himself. He decided that as long as he couldn't figure out a way to escape, he could try to figure out who would want him locked up.

From what he had heard, someone was paying six thousand dollars to keep him locked up, unharmed, for an unknown amount of time. The only person around Hazzard with that kind of money was Boss Hogg, but Luke couldn't figure out why the crooked commissioner would do it. If he wanted Luke out of the way, all he had to do was trump up a charge and throw him in jail. But, Luke admitted to himself, the Dukes always had a way of getting out of those charges. The Duke luck, everyone called it. Luke looked down at his shackled leg. He prayed that the 'Duke luck' held until his family could find him.

Come on, Luke. Maybe you're overreacting. After all, you heard that Simmel fella. They were told not to hurt you. Luke tried to reason with his mind. But his still throbbing jaw reminded him how well Preston followed that rule. He could almost hear Bo's voice telling him not to be stupid. He grinned slightly, remembering all the times he had said those very words to his younger cousin.

He had every faith Bo would find him; after all, they had promised each other to always have each other's back. He traced the scar on his palm, remembering the day they officially became 'brothers.' Luke had explained the scar dozens of times to dozens of people, but he had the feeling no one truly understood it.

Even Uncle Jesse had been really ticked at them for a while; he didn't like the idea of the boys intentionally cutting themselves. But Luke had explained it as prettily as he could, and Uncle Jesse had finally been mollified. Luke had gotten a lot of wounds in his time, more than he would like to count. Broken bones, cuts, bruises, and once, while he was in the Marines, he had been shot. All of those scars had healed until you couldn't even see them. The only scar that remained visible was the scar on his palm, a silent reminder that there was someone other than himself he had to watch out for, and someone other than himself watching out for him. Luke suddenly realized that was why he always fought so hard to get himself and Bo out of messes; he had to protect Bo. That was always his motivation; that was why he always came up with plans. Without that motivation…his mind hadn't worked as clearly as it did when he watching out for his little cousins. It just wasn't used to it.

Luke suddenly stood up and started pacing aggressively again. He couldn't just sit back and wait to be rescued like some storybook princess. That wasn't the Duke way. He got himself into this mess, he could get himself out. He eyed the wood table, wondering if he could somehow dislodge a nail and use it to pick the simple lock on his cuff.

"Idiot! You should have thought of that sooner!" Luke hissed at himself. He went to work, finding a loose nail after a couple minutes search. He began to work it out, gritting his teeth as splinters pricked his fingers unrelentingly. But he refused to give up. The nail was all but out when he heard the door unlocking at the top of the stairs. Luke hastily threw himself on the cot, pretending to be asleep. He closed his eyes tightly, willing his heart to slow down.

"You haven't been sleeping this whole time, have ya?" Preston said, as if surprised. Luke calmly opened his eyes and looked over at his captor.

The large man was now ignoring his prisoner; instead he was focused on moving what looked like a small crate covered with a black cloth. He set it down just outside Luke's radius, then went back up the steps. He came down with another crate. He repeated the trip one more time, then shut the door again. He looked at Luke, smiling sharply.

"You like snakes, Luke?"

Luke ignored the question. "What are you going to do to me?"

The man seemed genuinely offended. "What makes you think I'm going to do anything to you? I left you food, blankets." He gestured toward the items. "I'm trying to be nice."

Luke laughed one sharp bark. "My guess is that your payment depends on my welfare, and you don't want to take any chances with not getting paid."

Preston turned around, facing Luke. He looked amused, but there was a glint in his eyes that made Luke nervous. The man grinned slowly, then pulled the black cloth off the crates. Luke saw now that they were cages, with snakes inside them. Luke felt his heart sink; this could not be good for him.