A/N: I've tried to make most of the police gargon understandable in the context of conversation, but if anyone is interested, the Whitefish County Sheriff's Department is using the Michigan State Police 10 Codes. Again, thanks so much for your reviews!

If you're keeping track, we're around song #54 on the Evergreen playlist on Spotify. :)


Chapter 39 - The Black Queen

Deal the cards, pass three across
The ones I give ensure your loss.
I cannot play my heart too soon
For I'm prepared to shoot the moon.
The Ace, the King, the Queen all black
I hold reserved for my attack,
And when I take her, with a sigh,
It's far too late - the victory's mine.
~the author, "A Little Game of Hearts"


Night of December 27th

The woods were a blur of red and blue; the bay growing larger by the minute, and ahead of them the Point Light flashed its nightmark against the dark sky. Enos turned up the volume on the police radio, but as of yet, there had been nothing but garbled static and a few almost words here and there. The radio's range was about 10 miles over open ground, but with the forest between himself and the station, he wasn't sure he would get any reception until he passed Andrus Lake south of Tamarack.

The overcast, moonless night should have been pitch black this far from streetlights, but the clouds above glowed a dusky orange and already a faint smell of burning wafted through the heat vents. As they crossed the lake, the beams of his headlights scattered in the smoke that hung above the cold water, and the first intelligible words sprang from the radio.

"...2...dispatch...78...to close the road or somebody's gonna get hurt...everybody's grandma out here..."

"...Unit 2. There's no one else, Pete. DNR 1 ETA is 40 minutes."-

"10-4, dispatch. Unit 2 out."

Enos' heart raced, not knowing what was going on and feeling useless this far out of town. He picked up the mic and thumbed the talk button, praying someone could hear him. "Unit 1 to Dispatch, 10-8, copy."

There was a pause and for a moment he thought they might still be too far for a signal, then sighed with relief to hear Joy's voice, mingled with static. "Dispatch to Unit 1. Sheriff, what's your ETA?"

"About five minutes. Just tell me where you need me. Over."

"Unit 1, advised single dwelling fire, 204 North Second Street. Tamarack Fire and Rescue on scene with Patrol Unit 1B and Unit 2. Paradise Fire en route."

The location stopped him cold, dredging the unsolved murders back to the forefront of his mind and a woman who fled Tamarack in the dead of the night. If he believed at all in Fate, he would think it was payment for ignoring the whole mess for the last three days. He glanced over at Daisy. She had been quiet since they'd returned to the truck, and he doubted she recognized the address.

He turned his attention back to Joy. "Copy, dispatch. Advise location of Units 3 and 4? Over." If Doc and Pete were at the house fire, where were Rodney and Rick? Surely, she would have called them in for something this major, especially if Pete was asking for backup.

"10-64"

Enos frowned at Joy's evasive response. "Copy, dispatch. Unit 1 out," he answered, setting the mic back in its cradle. "Ding dang it."

"What's wrong?" Daisy asked.

He shook his head. "I sounds like they've got more problems than just a house fire," he said. "10-64 means 'message for local delivery'. Lots of townsfolk have police scanners, so I think she's trying to prevent everyone knowing what else is going on." He took the turn off and hit his brakes, scattering a group of deer standing in the middle of the road. "Be awfully nice if I knew what was going on, though." He glanced over at her. "I'm real sorry, Daisy. I know you're probably tired, but I need to go straight to the fire. It might be a long night, and I don't have time to drop you at the cabin."

"That's alright. If you're going to 2nd Street, I can walk. It's not far."

The smoke was clearly visible as they passed under the first streetlights; hanging thick and low and making the dark disorienting even with his good sense of direction. There had been nearly four feet of snow on the ground when they left for Hazzard, and its incredible depth had turned the city into a frozen maze. The streets had been cleared and that snow hauled into the bay, but the houses were unrecognizable with drifts creeping halfway up their first floor windows and only narrow channels for cars in the driveways. Instead of trusting his intuition, he followed the lights of the fire truck past the corner of 1st and Main until he found 2nd Street and pulled over to the curb three houses up from the fire.

"Stay here, I'm gonna see if I can find the fire chief," he told Daisy, leaving her there to gather her things. He zipped his coat, grateful that in the chaos of leaving Tamarack he worn his brown Sheriff's issue one instead of the ski jacket he normally wore off duty.

The heat increased with every step he took towards it, and by the time he could see the full blaze, it felt like standing by a hot oven inside an igloo. Most of the snow around the fire's perimeter had melted, filling the road with sooty, black slush. Flames soared above the crumbling roof and rafters of the two story home and licked the eaves from inside its broken windows. Bits of charred shingles lay here and there, and ash flew like snow in the air.

In a driveway across the street, a crowd of spectators had gathered to gawk at the fire and several were coughing in the black, foul smelling smoke.

"Hey, y'all need to back up!" He yelled at them, pointing towards the end of the block. "When Paradise's fire crew gets here, you'll be in the way, and there ain't nothing you can't see back yonder." Most obediently turned and walked away, but a few stood their ground, acting like they hadn't heard him. "You guys go on now, please? Don't make me ask y'all again. There's no telling what kinds of toxic stuff you're breathing in with this smoke."

That got the attention of even the rowdiest stragglers and they hurried away, covering their mouths and fanning the smoke away from their faces. He hadn't been lying; already he felt a chemical burning in his eyes and the back of his throat. Coughing himself now, he walked through pools of sludgy water towards Tamarack's fire chief, Scott Reedy.

The shorter man spied Enos and hurried to meet him. "Sheriff!" he puffed, winded himself from the smoke. "Didn't realize you were back, yet."

"Hey, Scott. I just got into town." Behind them, the firemen struggled to aim the hose at flames spouting from a second story dormer. "I won't keep you. Dispatch says Paradise is on their way."

"Lord, I hope so! We mighta had it under control by now except that I wanted to check the museum first. Figured that was a higher priority."

Enos' blood ran cold. "The museum?" he asked, warily. The museum was supposed to be closed for winter from Christmas until the first week in March. "What's happened at the museum?"

"Got a call of a fire there at the same time as this one," he told him. "Luckily someone was out walking their dog nearby and heard the alarm going off and called it in. The front office is pretty bad, but the sprinklers held it back from the exhibits. One of your deputies got there first and was able to put it out with an extinguisher."

A house fire in the middle of winter was one thing, but two fires in a city whose fire department handled more wrecks and heart attacks than actual blazes was quite a coincidence. The connection between both fires made it even more suspicious. The low 'whoop whoop' of sirens filled the air and a moment later, the flashing red and white lights of Paradise's two fire trucks came into view as they turned the corner.

"I'll let you get back," Enos shouted over the din. "Thanks for letting me know."

He turned and started towards his truck, hoping to find Doc or Pete and get more answers. Police lights flashed at the far end of the street, and he assumed they had parked in the lot of the Kwik-Trip gas station.

Daisy was still at the truck, but her coat was on and her backpack slung across her shoulders. She stared up at the fire, her face lit in flickers of orange while sparks, picked up by the wind, rained down around her like hot little fireflies. She startled as he took her by the elbow and pulled her with him.

"You need to get outta here," he warned. "I didn't realize how big this was. We're lucky Paradise got here as fast as they did, or we'd have lost the house next door."

"I hope no one was home," she worried, turning her head to look back.

"There wasn't."

"You sound awfully sure."

"I am sure. It's Melinda's house."

She grabbed his arm to make him stop. "Melinda!?"

Despite the adrenaline fueling her system, she looked tired. Her eyes were bloodshot and red from smoke, and a smear of soot crossed her cheek. A pang of guilt assailed him. Leaving her in Hazzard would have been safer than his world where crazy stalkers sent him playing cards and strung people up in the woods. Unfortunately, his judgement never seemed to be firing on all cylinders when it came to her.

"The museum burned, too."

Her grip on his arm tighened. "Oh no!" she cried. "Enos, tell me it didn't destroy all that stuff! Do you think it's connected to the guy who was after Melinda?"

"Scott, the fire chief, said it just got the front office." He knew she was just as worried as himself, but now wasn't the time to answer her questions. "Listen, Daisy, right now, I know as much as you do. I need to find Doc or Pete, and I want you to get somewhere safe. Not the cabin, I don't want you walking that far by yourself. Not tonight."

"I'll go to the station. It's just two blocks down. Enos-" she leaned closer to him. "I think someone set this fire."

He looked back at the burning house, trying to pick out anything that would make arson obvious but saw nothing noteworthy. Bad wiring or a forgotten space heater were usually the cause of winter fires, but he had been a cop long enough to know it was good to have a second set of eyes.

"Why do you say that?"

"I can smell Kerosene," she explained. "Uncle Jesse always used it to light the still, and it smells just like this when it burns."

He took a deep breath, trying to identify it as she had. To him, the acrid scent of burning plastic, wood, and shingles were indistinguishable from any others, but if Daisy smelled Uncle Jesse's still, he believed her.

"Come on," he said, making a mental note to ask the fire chief about accelerants. "I'll walk you to the Kwik-Trip. It's on the way to the station."

Together, they trudged silently up the street, past people standing amongst snowbanks and driveways, until they parted ways at the corner of 2nd Street.

Enos spotted Doc inside the gas station speaking to a woman he recognized as Melinda's elderly neighbor. She was dressed hastily in a coat thrown over her robe with winter boots, her careworn face haggard and stained with ash. She gestured animatedly towards the fire as she spoke. Enos pulled open the door and took a deep breath of clean air as he walked over to stand beside Doc who was taking notes. Through a mess of 'dontcha knows' and 'you betchas', Enos gathered she had heard some commotion outside shortly before she noticed smoke coming from the second story window of the house.

"Hey, Mrs. Dunbar," greeted Enos. "I'm awfully sorry about all this."

She patted his cheek with a wrinkled, liver spotted hand. "Oh Sheriff, it's not your fault. How was Georgia?"

"It was just fine, ma'am," he replied, giving her the most patient smile he could muster. "A little warmer than Michigan. It was nice to see everyone again."

"Well, don't let them steal you away. I heard Daisy came back with you," she added, giving him a wink.

Enos neither knew nor cared how word of Daisy coming back had already spread inside the Kwik-Trip in the span of fifteen minutes. If gossip were an Olympic sport, Tamarack would take the gold medal.

"Just until the end of March to take over dispatch from Joy," he assured her. "Did you say you heard something strange right before the fire?"

"Oh, yes, yes," she nodded. "It sounded like a 'thump'. Like an old paint can hitting the roof next door. I wouldn't have heard it except Chester wanted out."

"Chester?"

"The cat. He's gotta do his business every evening, dontcha know? Cat stuff."

Doc nudged him. "I've got everything down, Enos," he told him. "Thanks for your help, Evelyn. You're welcome to sit in my car and warm up if you'd like."

"Back of a cop car? Ooh la la!" She turned back to Enos. "Sheriff, did I ever tell you about the time my first husband and I got caught running bourbon down from Thunder Bay to Detroit during Prohibition? The Feds put us in the back of their car. We were young and in love," she snickered, "and of course, we'd been drinking the bourbon-"

"I reckon I'm gonna have to take a rain check on that one, ma'a'm," he interrupted. Like all full-blooded Yoopers, Evelyn Dunbar knew how to talk but not when to quit, and he had no wish to hear what she and her young, drunk husband had done in the back of a police car. "If you'll excuse me, I need to borrow Doc."

He turned and left before the woman could find something else to reminisce about.

Doc followed him outside. "Whew, thanks for rescuing me," he said, relieved. "Lady's been yammering on at me for twenty minutes. How was the trip? Betcha wish you'd stayed a while longer, eh?"

Enos shook his head. "I saw the fire ten miles back, but had to wade through the deer to get here. I'm sorry I put all this mess on you, sir."

He waved away Enos' concern. "How were you supposed to know things'd go to Hell in a hand basket the moment you weren't looking?"

"Scott said it got the museum's office?"

"God was smiling down on us, I guess. Dale Perkins heard the smoke alarm while he was out walking his dog and called it in. Rodney was only a mile down the road and beat the fire department. He was able to put it out with the extinguisher before it got past the office."

"Someone broke in?"

"It looks that way," he said. "They broke the glass out in the door, but the motion sensor alarm didn't go off. Sarah said she thinks she set it, but with the craziness of having to close early with the snow, she's not completely sure."

Enos wouldn't have blamed her if she hadn't. Outside of the Elcid Barrett murders, anything more serious than petty theivery was rare up here, and most people in town didn't lock their doors at night. "Maybe we'll get lucky and the closed circuit cameras picked someone up."

He shook his head. "Bad luck there, I'm afraid. The VCR's in the main office, and Rodney said that's where he thinks the fire started. I gather it's torn up pretty bad, but I've been over here, yet. If you want to drive up, I can hold things down here."

"I'll go secure it and send Rick down to help you out. If both fires were arson, the museum might be the target and the house fire just a distraction."

Melinda had seen that fella loitering around the beach the same day they'd received the flowers at the station; maybe they had picked someone up on CCTV without her realizing it, like the time Daisy inadvertently took a picture of Uncle Jesse with some bank robbers in the background.

"Looks like they might have the house under control now." He pointed towards the fire. "Probably be a total loss, though."

The snow began to fall as they watched the chaos down the block against the flickering strobes of the fire engines. Flames were still visible, but not as high as they had been before.

Enos turned back to him. "If I'm still out at the museum when the fire crew finishes, ask Scott about testing for accelerants. Specifically kerosene. Daisy thought she smelled it when we were closer to the fire."

"Damn thing went up like a stack of dry leaves, so it wouldn't surprise me, and every gas station in the U.P. has a kerosene pump. I'll ask him."


Daisy hurried across the road, pulling her hat further over her ears and wishing she had grabbed her gloves from the console of Enos' truck. Her eyes smarted from the heat and ash and her feet were dangerously cold. Figuring they would be driving all day, she had packed her boots in her suitcase and worn tennis shoes when they left Hazzard. Slush from the road had worked its way through her laces and seeped into her socks, and if she didn't get them off soon, she could add to frostbitten toes to the night's excitement.

She took a deep breath of cold, smoky air and looked up at the street light as she passed the courthouse where flakes of snow cascaded down like a thousand silver stars. It was hard to believe they had been in Georgia that very morning, and she wished they had stopped for the night in Cincinnati. It would have given Enos one more day of peace, and this mess would have been over by the time they got back. She ran the rest of the way to the station, raking a handful of new snow off Joy's car as she passed.

Bells rattled against the door as she pushed it open, and Joy looked up from her switchboard. "Daisy!" She pulled off her headset and half walked, half waddled, over to give her a bear hug, and Daisy silently congratulated herself on surprising the normally stoic woman.

"I feel like you missed me," she laughed. "Sorry, I know you're probably busy."

Joy stepped back and studied her with a contagious grin. "I want the whole story later," she told her, "but right now, I've got a mess on my hands. You don't know how glad I was to hear the Sheriff on the radio. Doc's good with small town problems, but Enos is better at coordinating everyone in an emergency."

"I thought that was your job?"

"Oh no, I just pass the notes," she laughed. "It's not as glamorous as it sounds. Trust me, I'd rather be out there slogging through the snow."

Daisy hoped Joy wouldn't be upset about Enos drafting her as a replacement. "Enos says you're supposed to train me to do your job 'cause of that bun in your oven. I hope that's alright."

"Alright!?" she beamed. "I've been telling that man for a month he should hire you! I guess he actually listened...wonders never cease."

An alarm went off on her switchboard and she hurried to grab her headset and push the blinking red button. "Whitefish County dispatch, go ahead."

Daisy couldn't hear the answering call since it relayed through Joy's headset.

"Copy that, Unit 3. Unit 1 is 10-8 and I'll let him know. Over." She disconnected the cord of the headset and lay it down on the table. "Sorry, I guess you should hear both sides since you're going to need to learn all this stuff. Might as well start tonight." Easing herself back into the chair, she pushed one of the green buttons at spoke into the table mic. "Dispatch to Unit 1, respond."

Enos answered, sounding far away and tinny. "Unit 1 to dispatch, over."

Daisy yawned and dragged a chair beside Joy's as she listened to the back and forth of Joy telling Enos that Rodney needed a chain and lock to secure the front door of the museum, and Enos acknowledging it and letting Rodney know that he was on his way. "So, what's going on?" Daisy asked, as soon as the conversation was over. "Enos said both Melinda's house and the museum caught fire? Pretty big coincidence, what with her having connections to both places."

Joy rubbed her swollen abdomen and sighed. "Yeah. I've had enough of coincidences around here."

"You think they were after her, or something she had?"

"Maybe...Or it's just the murderer messing with us again." She stopped, looking down at Daisy's feet. "You'd better get those shoes off before you get frostbite."

"Oh, right. I forgot." She bent over and unlaced her shoes, pulling them and her socks off. Her feet were red and sore and even the chilly air in the station felt warm. "I've got an extra pair of socks somewhere in here." She rummaged through her backpack until she found them and pulled them on.

"There's coffee in the back if you want some," she offered. "I know you hate it, but it's hot."

Daisy rubbed her sock feet to increase circulation. "I'm not desperate enough to drink coffee. Thanks though. So...," she gestured towards the switchboard, "where do I start? What's what?"

"Oh no," Joy chided. "You have to start like all the rest of us." She opened the bottom desk drawer, pulled out a sheet of paper, and slapped it down in front of Daisy. "Here you go, newbie. Memorize those."

Daisy balked at the list of 10 Codes which spanned four columns of small print all the way down the page. "What?! All of these? My memory ain't what it used to be."

"Sorry, Enos is a stickler for using 10 codes. He said he didn't use them much in Hazzard, but they were required to in Los Angeles. They come in handy up here where everybody has a police scanner and time on their hands. If we didn't use codes over the radio, we'd have a crowd of drunken locals following us everywhere we went."

She sighed and scanned the list, thinking it was a hopeless venture. When she looked up, Joy was grinning at her. "What's so funny?"

"I thought you wanted Enos to spend more time with you?"

Daisy felt her face heat. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm sure he'd be happy to quiz you."


Enos sighed and shook his head at the gutted office of the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum. His deputy had been right, the room was a hopeless mess of charred and twisted blobs of unidentifiable objects scattered among the ashes of wood paneling and ceiling tiles and the hull of a charred metal desk.

Sarah, their resident historian and museum manager, had stopped by not long after Enos arrived to check out the damage for herself. She had graduated from the University of Michigan three years ago, and he hoped she wouldn't find a new job after this. It was nice to have another outsider around, and Enos had his suspicions that Rodney was sweet on her.

"Were all the VCR tapes stored in here?" Enos asked, eyeing a squarish lump he thought might have been the recorder.

"Yeah, sorry," she said. "I was hoping the VCR was alright, but it's literally toast, and that tangle of metal was the cabinet where we stored the back-ups. Were you looking for the feed from tonight?"

"I didn't reckon we'd get tonight's, " he said. "But I should've asked you earlier for the one back when Melinda saw that fella wandering around down by the beach. She didn't think he'd been close enough for the camera to pick him up, but I should have checked it myself."

Rodney, who had been poking around in the ashes for anything salvageable, looked up at him. "You think someone set this to destroy CCTV evidence?"

"I can't think of any reason to set the fire here in this room. Was there anything valuable kept in here?"

"Not in terms of money value," Sarah said. "There were some old plat maps of Chippewa County from the 1860's that we hadn't archived, yet. But, Sheriff... was it the October 6th tape you were wanting?"

"It was early October, I'd have to look at my notes to check the day."

Sarah grinned. "Follow me, I think you're in luck." She led them out of the office and through the exhibit hall to a closet on the far side of the building. "The power's off. Either of you guys have a flashlight?"

"I've got it." Rodney shone his flashlight into the small room while Sarah moved a stepladder beneath a high shelf and took down a banker's box. Setting it on the floor, she opened it and pulled out a VCR cassette.

"I meant to ask you if you needed it," she told Enos, handing him the tape, "but I kept forgetting. I didn't trust myself not to record over it, so I tossed it in here."

"Possum on a gumbush," he whispered. "Sarah, if the museum didn't need you so much, I'd ask you to be a deputy."

She laughed. "I've heard Rodney's story about pulling six dead muskrats out of the school's drainpipe last year. Thanks, but no thanks."


It was after midnight before they finished securing the museum. Enos hadn't felt right leaving the smashed door with only a chain to keep people out, and so a call was made to see if anyone had a large piece of plywood they would donate. A piece was found and delivered and by the time it was nailed in place, the damp wind off the lake was freezing both of them to the bone.

Enos sent Rodney home to rest while he headed back down into town to check on the house fire. Paradise's team had gone, leaving only Tamarack's engine and a skeleton crew to smother any hot spots. The house was a pile of black rubble that glowed softly in the dark, and he knew finding anything of value would be a lost cause. Pete and Rick were still there, but Doc had gone back to the station. Enos sent Pete home and left Rick, who had been scheduled for the night shift anyway, before heading to the station himself.

Joy looked up with a weary smile as he entered, too tired to even whine at him for not kicking the snow off his boots.

"Hey," he said softly, feeling badly for her long hours. It was amazing how fast her pregnancy had progressed after hitting the six month mark, and though she never complained, the stress of 12 hour days on her body couldn't be easy. He knew very little about the stages of fetal growth, but she was roughly the size of a small whale and he wondered if she was sure she wasn't having twins. It did run in her family, after all.

"Hey yourself," she answered. "If you're looking for Daisy, she's asleep in a cell."

"Why don't you get outta here, Joy," he told her. "I can watch dispatch for a while."

She shook her head. "You won't have to," she said. "That new phone thingy came in, and Pete figured out how to set it up."

Being short on employees, their main problem was needing someone to answer phones and run dispatch overnight. Several weeks ago, he'd read an article in Police Times about new tech which could relay any phone calls the station received straight to an officer's squad car by means of a hand-held "cell phone". It was exorbitantly pricey, so he let Doc smooth talk the State into getting them one.

"And it works!?"

"Guess we'll find out," she said, with a shrug. "We couldn't get it to route straight from our phone, but Pete found a work around. When I leave, I'll turn on the answering machine here with a message giving an after hours number that'll ring in on the cell phone. He and Rick tested it out yesterday and Pete got it to ring. The range is about the same as the radios, so whoever works the night shift will have to stay on this side of the hill, but..."

"That's great!"

"You know what this means?"

"What?"

"I can go back out when I'm on night shift."

"Joy, I'm not letting you go on patrol while you're pregnant."

"I'm-"

"We're not having this argument again," he warned her. "I'm responsible for two lives right now, and I'm not sending you out on patrol. That's the end of it."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright. I'm only kidding, anyway. This rugrat weighs more every day." She stood up and rubbed her side.

"How's Jake?"

"He ate," she told him. "I heard him talking to Daisy for a while, though. Maybe she got him to rethink things."

"Daisy's the patron saint of lost causes," he muttered, doubting a kind word or two would make the kid give up the murderer. "I'm sure she lifted his spirits."

He pretended not to see Joy rolling her eyes at him as he walked towards the back. Jake was asleep under a blanket in the first cell, while Daisy was in cell two, curled up with her backpack.

Kneeling down in front of her, he watched her sleep and wonder briefly why she had followed him here. Starting over might be easier than living amongst the memories of her past, but why him? Joy found it endearing, but he found it unsettling, waiting for the other shoe to drop - watching for the day when she finally found the right distraction to take her away from him.

He raised his hand to brush her hair back from her face, then thought better of it and instead shook her gently by the shoulder.

"Daisy, wake up."

Her eyelids fluttered and opened slowly. A look of confusion crossed her face before her eyes settled on his, and she smiled up at him, still not quite removed from the world of her dreams. "Enos..."

The way she breathed his name made him feel hot and cold at the same time. He cleared his throat. "Hey, it's time to go."

She sat up, and looked around, gathering her bearings. "Oh! Sorry, Enos, I didn't know how long you'd be. Joy said it'd be okay to lay down back here."

"That's fine," he said. "Everything's under control for now. You ready?"

"Yeah." She stood up and yawned. "Go ahead, I'll be right behind you."

He walked back into the lobby where Daisy helped Joy get her coat on.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Joy said, putting an evidence bag on the counter. "Doc dropped this by."

"What is it?"

"I didn't open it, yet. He said it was the only thing in her mailbox."

Pulling up the tape holding the top down, he glanced inside and sighed. "Hand me a pair of gloves, will ya'?"

Joy tossed him a pair of latex gloves from the drawer, and he pulled them on before opening the bag the rest of the way and removing the object.

"Which one is it this time?" she asked, softly. Beside her, Daisy watched him anxiously.

He stared at it a moment before holding it up to show them.

"Queen of Spades."