Creatures of Habit: Chapter 2

by: Tara

“Oh Lord, them good boys are badddd…” Bo finished singing. Charity laid her head against the General’s passenger seat. “Just think if you and Luke had gone to Nashville instead of distributin’ moonshine, y’all wouldn’t be on probation.”

Bo wasn’t sure whether to take offense or not at the young woman’s comments. He studied her expression. Charity had always been the most outspoken of the Haggard children. When her brother or sister had a problem, she was the one who took care of it even though she was the youngest. And tonight, instead of him distracting her while Daisy tried to gather evidence, Charity had kept him occupied. And if she had been suspicious about anything, she had never let on about it.

“Here I was gonna ask if you wanted to go skinny dippin’ again,” He said mischievously.

“Maybe we should see if Luke and Grace want to join us,” Charity teased.

“And ruin all our fun,” Bo exclaimed.

“So you were havin’ fun!” Charity playfully accused.

Bo chuckled. “Yeah…” He glanced at his watch. “Did you?”

“Wouldn’t change anythin’,” Charity smiled mirthfully. “I’ll never forget it.”

“Me either,” Bo smiled. This was usually about the time he’d take his date home but he found himself wanting to watch the sunrise with his companion. And that was still several hours away. “Uh, you know a lot about stars?”

“Not too much,” Charity paused. “Just they’re pretty to look at.”

“That’s another thing we got in common,” Bo answered. He tapped his fingers on the dashboard. “Did you need to be home at a certain time…”

“No, have tomorrow off.” Charity stared at him. “You’re cousins are getting help from Payne.”

Bo’s jaw dropped. How could she know that? He thought to himself, trying not to let any hint show in his face that he understood what she meant. His head tilted, wavy blond ends touched the yellow shirted shoulder.

Charity smiled. “The way I see it, if we don’t all work together, this ain’t never gonna end.” Her left hand reached out and touched his cheek. “And that’s what we all want. Maybe we’re all not on the same page, but it’s possible we could be.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course- I see both sides ya know.”

“And we’re just sittin’ here while others are out doin’ the work.”

“There is nothing wrong with that. We each have a role and sometimes its hard to accept when changes occur.”

Bo nodded. He was use to taking care of the investigative part with Luke. This was the first time in awhile that they were not together. But he oddly didn’t feel left out. “Sometimes you get put in something you don’t want…”

Charity changed the subject. She was in no mood to ruin the wonderful experience by talking about sad things. “Does the moon look like it’s golden hued?”

* * *

The salt and pepper haired man dressed in a red shirt and jeans blinked in surprise at the woman who walked onto his porch. “Hope Brighton?” He whispered. He sat a little straighter in the swing, the wooden floor creaking more under his boots than her pump flats.

“Rosco P. Coltrane, you know it’s Haggard.” She smiled at him. “Tho’ I have consisted many times to change it back.”

“And you just ain’t got to the courthouse before closing time in twenty five years?” He grinned mischievously. He dreaded what that comment might bring up. But the sooner they got it over, the better. Him and Hope had never really had a problem before. Not even when the event had happened. It had helped a lot with other town folks that she accepted and even defended Rosco’s version.

“Couldn’t just run away from the problem,” She paused and took a seat on the railing after seeing Rosco gesture toward it. That she was a welcome guest on his property. “I was just on my way home when I noticed some lights on at the tannery.”

“You want the department to go and investigate, I ain’t on duty for another hour. But I’d be happy to do that for ya.”

“I saw Payne’s truck parked along the building. There was another car, Plymouth.”

“Was the license plate… FCH-630?”

“WLH 940.”

“That’s Hunter.”

“Who?”

“Daney’s Duster.”

“Danielle Duke?”

Rosco nodded. “Yeah, she’s a private investigator.”

“I know that,” Hope sighed. “Those kids are all on the wrong track.”

“How’s that?”

“They won’t find anything at the tannery.”

“Why not?”

“Because my brother…”

“Why didn’t you stop him?” Rosco interrupted.

Hope looked at him. “He didn’t tell me until afterwards. Did you ever expect this to all come about again?”

“Yeah,” Rosco admitted. The Dukes rarely ever left anything to curiosity. And this matter dealt with all they had ever known and been told. “Did he say why he did it?”

“Frustrated. He felt if only he told Abrielle how he felt…”

“Then maybe Luke would be red haired, freckled face and green eyed?” Rosco described Hope’s brother.

“Maybe.” She slumped back against the porch. “Thirty years and- I should’ve stopped and told ‘em.”

“You’re lookin’ at the storm not the sunshine,” Rosco said gently.

“What else is there to do?” Hope wrinkled her nose. “In opening one thing, it can snowball.”

“Doesn’t have too- Do you really believe that Levi and his brothers committed a horrendous act?”

“You mean did let Abrielle and Becky become innocent victims in a war they couldn’t win.”

“Yes.” Rosco was glad that at least Hope was talking about what she didn’t want to face. Sure, she had tried to hide it all these years. But long before Levi came into her life, Abrielle and Becky had been a big part of her life.

“They did. I’ve never disputed that for a second. And I’ve thanked God every night that at least the kids were spared. Jesse was able to provide some kind of live for all of them.”

“Do you want to see Levi back behind bars?”

“I’d like the kids to have some time with their father, he’s not a spring chicken anymore.” Hope said matter of factly.

“Your girls are just like ya.”

“What do you mean?”

“Seein’ both sides of the topic.”

“It’s not always a bad thing.”

“Didn’t say it was.” Rosco yawned. He had been about to head inside for coffee when Hope had arrived. “Care to join me for a drink?” He froze for a second. It wasn’t exactly what Grant had said to him, but the two had gotten coffee before what had happened. He had always known from the coroner’s report that him and Grant would not have been able to save Becky from what happened to her that day. It was the details like that helped him sleep at night. Thinking about this case would assist him in staying awake for his patrol.

“Sure, that’d be nice.” Hope replied. She waited until Rosco got to the door before getting off the porch railing. “How’s things at the department.” That should’ve been the first thing she asked.

“Not too bad at the moment,” Rosco opened the front door. “Did you talk to Abrielle that night?”

Hope closed the door. “Yeah.” She kept her answer simple for now.

“Me and Kaleb never got along much,” Rosco said almost in a whisper.

“I respected Kaleb for everyone else’s sake,” Hope paused. “Him and Levi were way too much alike.”

“Really?”

“At least when no one else was around they were.” Hope continued speaking while following Rosco to the kitchen. “Kaleb Duke was – You gonna swing by the tannery?”

“It’s on the way to speed trap four,” Rosco reached into a cupboard and got cups out. “They’ll probably be gone by that time.” Quietly he got the pot and poured the coffee. After putting the pot back, he repeated a question. “Did you talk to Abrielle that night?”

“I helped her get ready.” Hope took one of the cups without adding sugar or creamer. “Maybe the answer is at the theatre.”

* * *

Boss laid his cigar in the glass ashtray on the desk. It was 11pm and he was still going over the theatre books. The smoke carried toward the open window. Sleepily he rubbed his eyes. The venue was the only business he owned that didn’t need his constant attention. The manager and staff had never been a problem. Fact, there hadn’t been any peculiar incidents in the last twenty five years. Not since the service for Becky and Grant Duke had been held at the establishment, due to the church basement being flooded. And book work didn’t usually take more than an hour. Which was good, he had a mandatory commissioner meeting at 8am in Eureka County.

He looked over his shoulder and saw a lingering white cloud. He scowled. There had been a nice breeze coming through earlier. His eyebrows rose at the sight of the “smoke” taking on a shape. The Hazzard theatre is not and never will be haunted, he said to himself. “Albert Duke?”

A gruff voice stated. “Jefferson, been a long time.”

Boss shook his head. “Why are you here?” He got right to the point.

“They’re not gonna find it.” The figure replied. “Please help them.”

“Who is them?” Boss demanded. Still not letting any sign of fear show in his face.

“The girls. They’re with Payne searching the auditorium.”

“How come?”

“Because.” Albert spoke one word.

Boss pursed his lips. “This got something to do with Haggard?”

Albert nodded. “Of course.”

Boss folded his arms. “I don’t have time for this.”

“If you don’t do it now, it’ll be worse.” Albert warned.

“Oh, what this place gonna be crawlin’ with more like yourself?” Boss pressed his fingers into the white jacket.

“Maybe.” Albert shrugged. “Well, go on.”

“My book work…” Boss started to say.

“Is done, all you have to do is sign it.” Albert replied.

“What if they don’t want my help-” Boss inhaled the smoke scented air.

Albert smiled. “They will.”

Boss exhaled. “I’ll try but only onconna I don’t want no more surprises like you just pulled…”

“Deal.” Albert waved.

Boss’s ears filled with the sound of a deep, hacking cough. He lifted his head from the desk, his hat was crumpled. His dark eyes focused on the ashtray. The conversation had been a dream. He picked up the ledger in one hand, his hat in the other. His portly frame hurried out of the office. He was going to see Jesse.

* * *

“Payne, we should be able to retrace their steps from that moment and find somethin’.” Daisy thought out loud.

“Don’t you think that was done twenty five years ago?” Payne shouted from the balcony.

Daney refused to argue. “Unless you got a magic wand, amigo. It’s the only option at 1am.” The property had only gone through one minor cosmetic renovation in twenty five years. Show had ended about eleven. Theatre would have been vacant no later than midnight. She got out of a seat in the first row and ran up the stage stairs. “Throw the curtain toward me.”

Daisy glanced at the papers in her hands. “It says a pipe from the catwalk hit her.”

“What if it didn’t?” Daney paused. “Hearing a commotion in the balcony, wouldn’t you turn in that direction? In the darkness, go that way.”

“You’re assuming the lights weren’t on.” Payne commented. Peering down at the two women on the stage, he placed his hands on the wooden railing. “Official report says the catwalk came down first.”

“I know what it says,” Daney reminded him. “And that could’ve been staged. No one has ever admitted being here at that time. Kale was supposed to close up that night. Abrielle stayed because he was here.” She paused. “But what if she left and came back?”

“Where would she have gone?” Daisy asked.

“Are you implying Abrielle was in on the plan?” Payne’s voice echoed from above. He figured Daney was trying to put various versions together and have a scenario that would please everyone. Problem with that was, it was illogical.

Daney shook her head.

“She wasn’t.” An older feminine voice came from the back of the auditorium, near entrance/exit doors. Hope Brighton – Haggard walked the middle aisle in the same manner she had done so many times before the fateful night. This was the first time she had visited the establishment since. “You’re wasting time.
“Rosco did a through investigation-”

“Yes,” Daney agreed. She waited until the figure was close enough for her and Daisy to see the older woman’s features. Wavy shoulder length blonde hair, high cheek bones. The business suit and slacks covered a willowy frame. “We’re only here because there wasn’t anythin’ at the tannery or any other place we’ve looked.” Daney rambled. A pleading glance exchanged between hazel eyes and green eyes.

“Have you checked the costume department?” Hope asked. She turned and looked at her son in the balcony. “Payne.”

“Mother.” Payne acknowledged her. “Surprised to see you out this late.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Hope half smiled. “What is it exactly you need?”

“Something that will show who wrote the paper at Miss Wilder’s office, ma’am.” Daisy answered. Hope glanced over her shoulder. “Haven’t found anything?”

“No, ma’am.” Daney motioned her cousin to follow her down the steps. Maybe they needed to regroup. Payne saw the girls come off the stage and down to where his mother stood in the aisle.

Hope’s attention darted from the stage to the balcony in time to watch Payne head back toward the staircase. “May I see the papers?”

“Of course,” Daney held them out. Hope took them. The first person on the scene was a Hazzard Gazette reporter. Next, coroner Winston Carney. Grant, Albert and Remington Duke arrived while the scene was being examined by Rosco. Jesse had been out on a run with his brother Cody and J.D. Hogg.

The evidence not in dispute was the catwalk had fallen thirty feet from the stage. The wooden planks and metal bars had ripped apart, sending the velvet curtain to the floor. Some pieces had scattered into the first rows of seats.

Manager’s Office, concession area, and ticket booth had been left untouched, dressing rooms too. Robbery had been ruled out as motive. It looked like an accident.

Rosco’s report mentioned Jesse’s speculation that Elle’s death hadn’t been planned. The responsible parties had switched gears after she was caught instead of Kale on the stage. And what they had learned in that experiment, had aided with plans for Grant.

* * *

“Levi?” Jesse inhaled a sharp breath. He was surprised to find the man sitting in the rocking chair that had been moved by the bookcase shelf wall window. “I-”

“Ain’t expectin’ you too,” The elderly Haggard paused. “Please don’t call Rosco. Just figured maybe we could talk without the kids around.”

“Well,” Jesse started to say and brought a hand up to his face. Fingers stroked over his beard. There was just something about Levi’s expression that the elderly farmer knew Haggard wasn’t here to hurt him. He wasn’t sure whether to ease what was on mind into a conversation or just let it out. “Water or coffee…”

“No thanks,” Haggard’s lips curled into a half smile. “Still as hospitable as always.” He complimented the white haired Duke. Jesse had always put family ahead of business and other matters. “Nice place ya got here.”

Jesse smiled. “It ain’t much,” He said modestly. “I reckon you got somethin’ to say…”

Levi nodded. His hands gripped the sides of the seat. “Elle wasn’t suppose too…”

“I figured that.” Jesse interrupted. “What I want to know is how you could to this to them boys.” A lot of folks were just considering Bo in all of this. But Luke was just as affected. Daisy’s circumstances were a bit different.

“Wasn’t just me,” Levi pointed out. He couldn’t hold back anymore. “Grant and Ale had business they didn’t want anyone to know about. It went sour. Me and Kaleb tried to fix it before you or anyone else got wind of it.” He paused. “Ale thought Grant was supposed to be at the theatre that night not Kaleb…”

“They already had problems.” Jesse continued where the younger man left off. “Then he waited a long time for his real target is what you’re tellin’ me?”

“Yep,” Levi’s dark eyes held nothing but respect in his expression for the older man. “I didn’t know until it was too late.”

“You gave everythin’ up to try and fix things,” Jesse sighed. “How could you let the rumor go?”

“Things get taken outta context,” Levi shrugged. “Someone made a comment at the store one day and next thing I knew, I was credited with somethin’ I never said.”

Jesse understood that. It had happened to him before. One of the last shine runs him and J.D. had been partners on was a similar experience. “Who did Grant and Ale have business with?” Jesse figured he could show Levi some trust with what he had just confirmed. Running white lightening was a volatile environment. A drop of a handkerchief could turn enemies into friends, vice versa.

Levi gritted his teeth. “I told Ale to be careful.”

“Him bein’ older, he figured he knew better.” Jesse guessed. He looked sympathically at Levi. “And that two of the best families together could beat this fella.”

“Yeah,” Levi answered. He leaned back in the chair, crossed his arms over one another in a relaxed position. It began to rock slowly. “Might’ve worked too if we had had everyone in on it. But Ale and Grant waited until it was too late, they were in too deep.”

“How come that fella never approached me?” Jesse wondered out loud. His expression showed emotion of being slightly shocked at this news.

“He might’ve if he hadn’t been jailed in another county for a gambling operation,” Levi speculated. “Honestly, Jesse I don’t know. Maybe he figured since it was Grant and Kaleb, he only had an issue with them and no one else.”

“That it would be hard to carry on with part of the family gone,” Jesse took a deep breath. He eyed Levi suspiciously. “You weren’t there at the theatre.”

“I wasn’t,” Levi said. “But I did stop in right before Ale and Grant did to see if Hope was there.”

Jesse’s other hand came up and wiped his misty eyes. “She always did like helpin’ out.” Levi pursed his lips for a second, unsure if the older man was referring to Abrielle Duke or Hope. “Yeah, they did-”

* * *

Bo looked at his cousin in surprise. “Thought you were lookin’ for some evidence?”

“On break!” Daisy informed him. She fixed the blanket that covered her long legs. She was seated on the beige leather love seat. “Not use to stayin’ up so late.” She glanced over at Daney who was playing around with some device called a word processor. The aspiring journalist was mesmerized by it. “Havin’ fun?”

“What?” Daney replied without taking her eyes or hands off the machine.

“Are you enjoyin’ yourself?” Daisy shouted.

“Yeah,” Daney glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, didn’t hear y’all come in.” She acknowledged Bo, Luke, Grace and Charity. “Your mom went back to bed and Payne is in the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” Grace smiled. “Excuse us, please.” She motioned her sister to follow into the next room from where the Dukes were. The two young women found their brother sitting on a bar stool leaned against the counter. His eyes closed and head rested on his folded arms.

“Ice down the shirt or faucet drippings?” Charity whispered.

“Neither,” Grace shook her head. “Maybe we should just let him rest.”

“The rest of us are up, he can be too.” Charity spoke quietly, continuing to tip toe quietly across the floor. When she reached her brother, her left hand came up and tousled the hair that lay on his neck.

“Hmmm… not right now. My sisters might be home any second.” He mumbled.

Grace and Charity looked at each other. The older woman tapped his right shoulder. “Payne…”

“Huh,” His eyes opened and head turned to see his sisters. “Was I talkin’ in my sleep?”

“Not sure,” Charity grinned. She reached her hand over and flipped the switch on the radio that had been playing softly. “How’d you meet up with Bo and Luke’s cousins?”

Payne yawned. Trying to force himself to be more awake. “They went to Dad’s to see what they could find. And I offered to help them.”

Grace’s eyes widened in alarm. “They were at…”

Payne nodded. He moved the stool in order to sit more comfortable. The counter’s edge even with the space between his belt and back pockets. “Where else was there to start?”

“You got a point,” Charity agreed. “But why aren’t you still out lookin’?”

“Ran into mom at the theatre,” Payne paused. “Couldn’t reach the four of you, she recommended we come back here.”

“Did she have any other advice?” Grace asked.

“Yeah- she strongly recommended we tell Rosco everything before anyone goes to Miss Wilder’s.” He replied.

“If we ain’t got nothing to give her, then no one will be.” Charity shook her head.

“Did I say we didn’t find anythin’?” Payne frowned.

“Well, no. But I doubt that place held any clues.” Grace said.

“In it’s own way it did,” He smiled. “Not sure how it’s gonna pan out…” He honestly didn’t want to explain the experience that he, Daisy and Daney had gone through.

“Ok,” Charity cleared her throat. She knew her brother’s expression was the one of he wasn’t gonna tell them anything he didn’t want to. “So what do we all do next?”

“Wait.” Payne yawned again. “The less folks know, the better. I’m willin’ to take the chance needed, but I can’t let the two of you.”

“Payne,” Grace started to say something about how her and Charity wouldn’t mind. Payne reached his hands out. One touched the Grace’s left cheek, the other brushed Charity’s right cheek. They both looked away knowing no further discussion would take place until the gamble had been taken.

In the living room, Daney was having the same discussion with Bo and Luke. Daisy as reinforcement that things had to be done a certain way or it would change the whole game. And that was what it was. It didn’t involve a shuck and jive.

“You at least gonna talk this over with Jesse?” Luke asked.

“Already did,” Daisy replied.

“Why you and Payne?” Bo wondered out loud. He understood what had been explained. But seemed like anyone could carry out the plan.

“You’d never believe us,” Daney spoke quietly. “Trust me.”

The boys nodded. “Shouldn’t we get home?”

“Y’all can if you want. Miss Hope said we were welcome to stay,” Daisy paused. Her eyes glanced at the blinking light of a box shaped object on top of the television set. It flashed… 5:00am. Only three hours before things would change history again. Only this time, the record would be set straight if all went well. The boys seemed to be taking the news good. And it wasn’t entirely up to Daney and Payne. They would only have what the person who had started this gave them to work with. She didn’t really like the idea but faith and patience were what was needed now.

* * *

“Boss?” Rosco’s gaze was on the double doors, the white suited commissioner coming through the booking room entrance. “Ain’t ya got a meeting?”

“Yeah,” Boss nodded. “Just thought I’d take you and Enos with me.”

Rosco blinked. “Who’ll watch over the county if we go with you?”

“I don’t think anything’ll happen.” Boss replied matter of factly. “C’mon, get your hat and let’s get movin’.”

The Sheriff’s lanky uniformed frame leaned back in his seat at the desk. “Boss…” He started to say and gestured a hand toward some papers.

Boss stalked over to the filing cabinet and tapped his fingers on the cb box. “Got one of these in my vehicle, it’ll be fine.”

Rosco pursed his lips. “I-” He paused and stared at Boss. “can’t leave them Dukes alone. What if…”

“It’ll be alright, suppose something does go wrong? You want them blamin’ it on you?” Boss demanded.

“They wouldn’t!” Rosco shook his head.

“Sure, they might’ve said that yesterday but they change their minds faster than Cooter can fill a tank of gas.” Boss smirked.

“Not this time,” Rosco crossed his arms over his chest. He gulped as Boss stepped over to him. “Not this time.” He repeated.

“You wanna bet the next patrol cruiser repair bill on it?” Boss’s eyes flashed darkly.

Rosco sighed. “Did you enjoy learnin’ those disco steps?”

“Thought you’d see things my way,” Boss grabbed the black Stetson off the desk and laid it on Rosco’s head. “C’mon, Enos is waitin’ outside.” He proceeded to the door. Rosco hesitantly followed. He had a sneaking suspicion that his brother in law knew something that he didn’t. He glanced over his shoulder at the manila folder that stuck out of an open metal file cabinet drawer.

Enos waved from where he stood by Boss’s caddy. “Mornin’, Sheriff. Mr. Hogg said I could drive if you want.”

“Alright,” Rosco agreed. It didn’t really make a difference to him. If anything happened, Boss would be sure to place the blame equally on both him and deputy Strate.
Enos opened the door and lent Boss a hand getting into the backseat. “You sure you want the top down?”

“Yes,” Boss said and pulled a cigar from his suit pocket after getting adjusted into the seat.

“Hmm, Boss…” Rosco cleared his throat. “You’re takin’ up both seats.”

Boss looked at him. “Sit in front,” He replied. The sun was beginning to rise higher as Enos drove the caddy away under watchful eyes stationed in the alleyway between the garage and General Store.

* * *

Ale Brighton stared blankly at the item in his hands. It had been hidden years earlier behind an art print in the dressing room of the Hazzard theatre. The envelope had contained an index card. The written account of the original contract between himself, Grant Duke and “Scout” Hammersmith.

The empty envelope was crumbled into a ball. He held it tight and walked outside. He went to his truck parked across the street. He frowned seeing a flat tire. Driver and passenger windows rolled down. He opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat. The envelope tossed on the dashboard. He reached for the cb mike. He looked down and found the cord had been replaced with a long piece of braided suede. Kind of material used to decorate clothing and footwear. His other hand grabbed the door handle to close it, and slipped. He got a whiff of burned motor oil as the door slammed.

“What in boot hill?” He muttered. The pudgy man’s attention was distracted by a figure on the sidewalk. He squinted at the glistening item in white gloved hands. He gulped hard, recognizing the outline of a small caliber handgun… like the one he kept in a holster attached to the underneath of his seat. The hand that had been on the cb box moved under the seat and found his own peace maker still in its place.

“Lookin’ for this?” A white gloved hand belonging to someone else waved a note card in front of his face. As he turned to address the person, they took the card and ran toward the theatre. Ale gritted his teeth. He tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge, and he wasn’t small enough to crawl out the window like a stock car driver.
He noticed wavy blonde hair sticking out from under the hat, near the jacket collar on the fleeing form.

He wiped the greasy hand on his left jean pant leg. He glanced to see the other figure had disappeared. He scooted over and looked out at the sidewalk to see if he could find anything that would let him know who one or both of the people were. His eyes widened at the message scrawled in chalk…

Murder has no statue of limitations.

He straightened in the seat and leaned back. Twenty five years, there hadn’t been a day he had forgotten. He guessed it was time to go see Rosco and get this matter over with once and for all. Who ever had the index card now had control. The backfire of an engine stopped him from reliving the memory. He watched the green Plymouth pull away from the corner.

It was the same vehicle he had seen outside his sister’s place this morning. Parked next to his nephew’s car. He heard the faint jingle of the bell that announced people coming in and out of the pharmacy. He got out of his truck via the passenger door and smudged the scribbling with his boots. Then, he started toward the newspaper office to use the phone.

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