Ransom

Disclaimer: I don't own the Dukes of Hazzard, not making any money, just cheap thrills.


Warnings: Slash, Established Couple, Angst


Rating: FRT


* indicates thoughts


Ransom
Chapter 8


The night passed without incident, just like Rosco had suspected it would. When Enos arrived to relieve him, he peaked into Bo's room intending to say goodbye. Seeing his lover sleeping peacefully, he quietly shut the door and headed for the elevator. When he reached the ground floor, Rosco made a detour to the business office.


"Hello, may I help you?" Susan asked.


"Yes ma'am, that is I hope so," Rosco replied. Sitting down in a chair across from the desk, he cleared his throat. "My name is Rosco P. Coltrane, I'm the sheriff over in Hazzard."


"Nice to meet you Sheriff Coltrane, I'm Susan Leeds," she introduced herself.


"Nice to meet you too. The reason I'm here is I wanted to make arrangements to pay the bills for my friend."


"Of course, and what is your friend's name?"


"Bo, er, Beauregard Duke."


"Duke did you say?"


"Yes, is there a problem?"


"Well sheriff, you see Mr. Duke's bills are already being taken care of."


"By who?"


"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, the man wishes to remain anonymous."


"I'll just bet he does," Rosco growled, having a suspicion about who the donor was. "Did you meet this man?"


"No sir, just his representive."


"This representive, he have a name?"


"Yes sir, but I don't think I can tell you that either," Susan reluctantly replied.


"Now you see here, this involves an official police investigation so you'd better just tell me..."


"I thought you said Mr. Duke is a friend of yours," Susan interrupted.


"He is, but he was wounded by some men who are connected to a federal prisoner, so I really do need to know who this man is."


"I'm sorry, I can't reveal confidential information."


"I could get a court order," Rosco threatened.


"Yes sir, you could. However until you do, I simply cannot reveal the name of the anonymous donor's representive. Now if you'll excuse me," she said, turning to a filing cabinet and effectively dismissing Rosco.


Huffing indignantly, Rosco stood up, slammed his hat back on his head, and stormed out. Stalking down the hallway, he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings until he slammed into another man, knocking his papers from his hands. "I'm sorry about that, here let me help," he offered, bending down to retrieve the papers.


"That's quite alright sheriff, no need," the man quickly declined the offered help. Bending down, he began to snatch papers from the floor.


Rosco ignored the man's refusal, picking up several papers from the floor. As he began to hand them back to the man, he froze when he saw the name on one of the papers. "Who are you?" he demanded.


"I'm nobody sheriff," the man replied, trying to take back the papers Rosco still held.


"Oh don't give me that. Now I just came from the business office, where they tell me that an anonymous donor is paying the bills for my friend. They won't tell me who the donor is, or who his representive is, and now here you are with papers that have Bo's name on them. Papers that look an awful lot like they might have to do with my friend's bills. So I'll ask ya one more time, who are you?"


"Alright sheriff, you got me," he conceded. "Let me buy you a cup of coffee and I'll explain."


"I don't need no coffee, you just explain right now," Rosco snapped.


Sighing with resignation, he began. "My name is Bill Thompson and I represent a man who simply wants to help a deserving young man out of a diffi..."


"Horse feathers! Bo's bills could get pretty high and you expect me to believe some stranger is gonna pay them just to be nice? Now who is your client?"


"I can't tell you that sheriff."


"You can and you will, or I'll just have to take you in for questioning."


"What? You can't do that, there's no law against helping somebody out of a bad situation."


"Maybe not, but there's laws against kidnapping and murder for hire."


"Are you accusing me of being involved with what happened to Mr. Duke?"


"You dang right I am! Now you gonna talk or do I have to take you in?"


"I can't reveal my client's name sheriff, I'm sorry. I can tell you this though, he didn't intend for any innocent people to be hurt, that's why he wants to pay Mr. Duke's bills."


"That's what I thought, you're client is the man who hired them hitmen to kill Lewis Turner. Well you can just tell him to take his money and shove it!"


"It's too late for that sheriff, the process has already been started," Bill calmly informed him.


"Well you can just unstart it! I ain't gonna have Bo owing a man like that anything," Rosco insisted.


"You have it backwards sheriff, it's my client who feels he owes Mr. Duke something for all he's suffered. Now if you'll excuse me," Bill said, grabbing the papers from Rosco's hand and hurrying away.


Watching Thompson walk away, Rosco didn't know how he was going to tell Bo about this. He knew his lover, and he knew that the younger man wouldn't be comfortable accepting help from a man like Thompson's client. Knowing that there was nothing he could do about it right now, Rosco left the hospital and headed back to Hazzard.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Bo slept most of the morning, not waking up until shortly before lunch. "Anybody here?"


"I'm here sprout," Jesse answered, reaching forward and taking his nephew's hand.


Smiling in the direction of his uncle's voice, Bo couldn't help feeling relieved to find he wasn't alone. "What time is it Uncle Jesse?"


"Oh, let's see...it's just past 11:30 in the morning."


"Oh, Uncle Jesse, where's Rosco?"


"He's in Hazzard Bo, at the jail."


"He gonna be by later?"


"I'm sure he will be," Jesse assured, hoping that he wasn't lying.


"How long you been here?"


"I got here a little after 7."


"Ain't you got stuff to do?"


"You trying to get rid of me?" Jesse teased.


"I'm sorry Uncle Jesse, I didn't mean it like that."


"No need to feel bad Bo, I was only teasing you a bit. I know ya ain't trying to get rid of me."


"I just don't want ya to feel like ya got to babysit me," Bo quietly explained.


"Feel like I've got to...why of all the hare-brained ideas. Beauregard James Duke, where else would I be when one of you youngins need me? Wouldn't you do the same for me?"


"You're right, I would, but Uncle Jesse it ain't like there's anything you can do," Bo protested.


"I can help keep ya safe."


"I thought there's a guard on the door."


"There is, but it makes me feel better to know that ya got somebody in the room with ya too. Now what would ya like to do while we wait for your lunch?"


"I don't know, ain't much I can do except talk."


"Well then we'll talk," Jesse said with a grin.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Rosco spent the morning at the jail, trying to keep his mind on the job at hand, without much success. Shortly after lunch two agents from the FBI arrived to escort the Blevins brothers to Atlanta, where they would await trial. Thirty minutes after they left, he heard their calls for help coming over the cb. Grabbing his hat, he rushed out the door, heading for the location the agents had given.


Pulling up to the unmarked sedan, Rosco was surprised to find the two agents calmly standing outside the car. "Are y'all alright? What happened?" he asked as he hurried over to them.


"Yeah we're fine Sheriff Coltrane," Agent Collins, the older of the two replied.


"Well that's good, but what happened? Ya said something about an ambush on the cb."


"An ambush is exactly what it was too. We were headed to Atlanta and everything was fine, until we came up on this tractor, taking up most of the road. That's when the shooting started," Collins explained. "Whoever was shooting was good, a real marksman. He took out both of the prisoners before we could even get out of the car. We radioed for help and tried to figure out where the sniper was at."


"Well shouldn't we be calling an ambulance?"


"No need, the prisoners are both dead. One shot each, right through the head, instant kill. This guy's good, I'll give him that much."


"So now there's nothing to tie any of the hitmen to the guy that Turner is testifying against?"


"Nope, not unless our people find something when they get here to investigate. I doubt they will though, this guy was a real professional."


"Where'd you say he was shooting from?"


"Up on that hill, but you can't go up there sheriff," the younger agent replied.


"What do ya mean I can't go up there? This is my county and two murders have just taken place, of course I can investigate." Rosco insisted, stepping away from the car and moving towards the indicated hill.


"Sheriff Coltrane, I'm afraid I must insist that you let our people handle the investigation," Collins said, stepping in front of Rosco.


"Now you look here, I know you feds think you're the only ones capable of running a proper investi..."


"Sheriff Coltrane, this isn't about your competence," Mulrovey, the younger agent interrupted.


"It's not?"


"Mulrovey!" Collins snapped.


"He has a right to know, doesn't he?"


"Know what?" Rosco asked, getting confused.


"You can't investigate because you're a suspect," Mulrovey baldly answered.


"Me? Why would I be...because of what they did to Bo Duke," Rosco answered his own question.


"That's right Coltrane," Collins confirmed. "I'm not saying that you had anything to do with this, but with what they did to your, um, lover," Collins said, nearly choking on the word. "We have to consider the possibility that you killed them for revenge."


"Yeah, of course ya do," Rosco agreed. "I suppose you want my gun and badge?"


"No, not at this point anyway," Mulrovey replied.


"Well then ya need to know where I was at the time of the shooting."


"No sir," Collins said. "That is, we aren't investigating either. As the agents transporting the prisoners, our actions will be looked at too. The best thing for you to do at this point would be to return to Hazzard. When the agents in charge are done here, I'm sure they'll come to the jail to talk to you."

"Fine, then I'll be at the jail."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Rosco stayed at the jail the rest of the day; luckily, it was a slow day and there wasn't any need for him to leave. Shortly before dinner time, the Federal Marshall arrived with Lewis Turner. Leaving the prisoner at the jail, he went to get something to eat. Rosco sat at his desk, staring at the prisoner in the holding cell, surprised to see that Lewis Turner was an average looking middle-aged man.


"You don't like me much do you sheriff?"


"Don't know you," came the reply.


"Still?"


"I'm just surprised that a mousy looking man like you could cause so much trouble."


"Trouble?"


"Why are you testifying against this man anyway? For that matter who are ya testifying against?" Rosco asked, ignoring Turner's question.


"His name is Carl Turner."


"Turner?" came the shocked question.


"My brother, I helped him in his enterprises for many years. I'll admit too that I enjoyed the money and power that I had. Then I got caught, and I went to prison rather than cut a deal to save myself."


"So why now?"


"Because three months ago my wife died and my brother did nothing to help her in her final months. You see she had cancer, and if it had been caught sooner she might have survived. It wasn't though, there was nothing Carl could do about that. He could've made her comfortable though, could've made sure she was in a decent house, with good medical help. My wife, my beautiful Sarah died alone in the charity ward of a county hospital and for that I cannot forgive my brother. Oh he came to the prison, tried to tell me that Sarah refused his help. Well I don't care, he should've found a way to make her take his help. Hell he could've done it anonymously, no he just didn't care enough," Turner snarled.


"I'm sorry for your loss," Rosco sincerely offered, knowing how devastated he would be if he lost Bo.


"Thank you sheriff. Anyway, now I'm testifying against my brother and in return the feds will put me into the witness protection program." For several minutes, silence reigned in the small jail, until it was broken again by Lewis Turner. "Sheriff, you said something about trouble, what happened?"


"Some hitmen came to Hazzard, they kidnapped somebody important to me. They wanted me to give you to them in exchange for his life."


"I'm sorry sheriff, is he okay?"


"He got away from them, but he got hurt and now he's blind, don't know if it's permanent. Then another hitman tried to take him from the hospital, I was able to stop him though."


"Stop him?"


"Shot him, he didn't give me any choice. Now we got three dead hitmen and an innocent man is lying in the hospital, all because of you."


"Three?"


"The other two were killed this afternoon on their way to Atlanta."


"My brother," Turner said with conviction.


"Huh?"


"My brother had them killed."


"Probably, after all they could testify against him."


"That ain't the only reason sheriff, I can guarantee you that."


"It's not?"


"No sir, I promise you he was furious that they took an innocent man hostage to get to me. He would've hired those men to kill me, but Carl never has stood for using a man's loved ones against him. He's very old-fashioned that way, my brother."


"You're telling me that your brother had those men killed because they hurt Bo?"


"Partly, and partly to keep them from testifying against him. Perhaps if he hadn't been concerned about their turning on him he wouldn't have killed them. He still would've made sure they were punished for what they did though."


"I see," Rosco mumbled, turning away from the cell, lost in thought. *Well that might explain why he'd want to pay Bo's bills. I still got to figure out someway to stop him from doing that though. I know Bo wouldn't want his expenses paid for with blood money.*


A short time later, the Federal Marshall came back from eating , relieving Rosco from guard duty.


"Sheriff, you don't need to stay now, I've got it under control."


"You sure that's a good idea?"


"Yes sir, after you leave I'll lock the doors. Everything will be fine," the Marshall assured him.


"Alright, well then guess I'll just go," Rosco reluctantly agreed, grabbing his hat and moving towards the door. "Oh, if anybody from the FBI wants to talk to me, you can tell them I'll be at my house or at Tri-County hospital, room 278."


"I'll do that Sheriff Coltrane, goodnight."


TBC

Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. Please review and let me know.