Chapter 3

“I can understand you boys bein’ concerned for Enos and all,” Jesse was saying, “but I think MaryAnne’s judgment is better than what you’re implying.”

It was the next morning and the Duke family were all seated at their kitchen table, eating a breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon.

“We’re not implying anything about her judgment,” Luke said. “Heck, she seems to like him. They were over at the cafe for the whole time me and Bo were in town. But we’re still gonna warn Enos that this guy Rockford’s lookin’ for him and he should be
careful. I just wish there was some way we could check this guy out ourselves.”

“But what if MaryAnne’s right, and this guy is who he says?” Daisy asked.

“Then we apologize really nice. I have a feelin’ tho’ it’s gonna be the other way around,” Luke said.

* * *

As the boys were getting ready to head out to try to meet Enos before he got to town, MaryAnne was handing her keys to Maverick to Jim.

“Rosco and I won’t be headin’ to town just yet. We gotta do one more swing through the county, so you can take Maverick and meet Enos in town. He’ll be comin’ in in awhile.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

MaryAnne smiled sweetly. “No problem.”


A little later Enos, was coming over the county line from Hatchapie County. He was driving leisurely enjoying another peaceful Hazzard morning.

The two men were sitting in their maroon sedan off the road, hidden in the bushes. They watched as the white Plymouth patrol car went by.

“Okay, Murray, let’s get him,” Russ said. Murray started the sedan and followed out after Enos.

Coming down the road from the other direction were Bo and Luke in the General. There only being one direct road to Capital City, the boys were keeping their eyes peeled for Enos in his patrol car.

Enos, meanwhile, glanced in his side mirror and saw the maroon sedan coming up fast behind him. He looked at the rearview in time to see it disappear into his blind spot and then the car was suddenly beside him.

He turned his head to look and saw two city looking men looking back at him. The driver then suddenly jerked the steering hard to the right, slamming the sedan into the patrol car.

“Ah!” Enos exclaimed gripping the steering wheel to keep the swerving Plymouth on the road. “Hey! Watch it!”

Murray swung the steering wheel again and the sedan and patrol car traded more paint.

As the boys came around the turn they saw the two cars fighting in the middle of the road.

“Holy smokes, Bo!”

Bo stepped on the accelerator and the General sped up to try to save the Duke boys’s friend. The maroon sedan made one final hit on the patrol car sending Enos flying off the side of the road. The patrol car leapt over the bush and turned on it’s side, then crashed down and eventually landed on it’s roof, crushing the blue and red gumballs.

The maroon car sped past the boys, both Bo and Luke trying to get a good look at the plate.

“I got the number. Let’s make sure Enos is okay,” Luke said.

“Yeah.” Bo brought the General to a stop by the patrol car. The boys scrambled out of the General and ran to the patrol car.

“Enos! Enos, are you all right?” Bo called. He and Luke kneeled down by the driver window.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Enos replied. He then climbed out of the car and the boys assisted him to stand.

“What the heck was that all about?” Enos squeaked.

“We think we might be able to explain some of it, but we’re takin’ you back to the farm first,” Luke said.

“Luke, what’s goin’ on?”

“There’s this guy from LA lookin’ for you, Enos,” Bo said. “He claims to be a PI, but me and Luke ain’t so sure.”

“Especially after that. We’ll explain it all back at the farm,” Luke said. “C’mom.”

The boys and Enos hurried back to the General and after all three were in, Bo tore off back to the farm.

The two men, meanwhile, had pulled their sedan off the road.

“Those two in that orange car saw us,” Murray said. “What do we do?”

“First thing we do is get rid of this car for another. Then we find Rockford, finish him off and get out of this hayseed country.”

If y’all thought the boys were just suspicious of Jim, well, you can forget that. Now, the line has been clearly drawn, with the Dukes on one side and the Coltranes on the other. And the person who’s really in danger, Jim, is caught in the middle.

Jim was standing alone in the booking room looking at the old framed wanted posters from before and after the turn of the century. He’d been waiting for Enos for almost an hour and was still waiting when Rosco and MaryAnne returned to town.

“Enos isn’t back yet?” MaryAnne said after she and Rosco came into the booking room. “That’s funny, I thought he’d be here by now.”

Rosco was standing by the window and out of the corner of his eye he saw a familiar sight. A patrol car being towed behind Cooter’s truck. He turned his head to look and placed his index finger and thumb between the blinds to get a clearer view.

“Judas Priest on a pony!”

“What?” MaryAnne said walking up beside him and looking out.

“It’s Enos’s patrol car,” Rosco said.

“Holy smokes,” MaryAnne exclaimed. She turned and darted out of the booking room. Rosco and Jim followed.

“Cooter,” MaryAnne called as she ran across the street. “Cooter, where’s Enos? Is he okay?”

Cooter turned to MaryAnne. He then saw Rosco and then he saw Jim. He regarded Jim suspiciously for a moment then said, “Yeah, Enos is fine.”

“Where is he?” she asked.

Cooter looked at Jim long enough for MaryAnne to realize she wasn’t going to get an answer.

“Aw geez, I ain’t believin’ this,” she spat. “Well, whadaya think, Jim? All the good ol’ boys here in Hazzard County think you’re a hit man after Enos.”

“What?” Jim and Rosco said dumbfounded.

“A hit man. Isn’t that something? Apparently the last time somebody from LA came to Hazzard lookin’ for Enos, the person was a hit man.” She looked at Cooter. “Of course, I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t here but I’m sure Bo and Luke Duke are tellin’ the truth. However, it really irks the hell out of me that they’re passing judgment on Jim here just because of where he’s from and who he’s lookin’ for.” She clapped her hands together. “Oh my God, he must be a hit man! Do me a favor will you, Cooter? If you see the boys give them this message: If and when they finally realize that Jim means no harm to Enos, they can save their stupid apology and can go to.... ” She stopped herself short and then spun around on her heel and stormed back across the street.

“Ooh, she’s mad now,” Rosco said to no one in particular. He looked at Jim. “C’mon, Jim.” Rosco glanced at Cooter then turned Jim, who was still trying to figure out what the heck happened, by the arm, and they headed back to the courthouse.

MaryAnne was fuming in the middle of the booking room. “Them dang boys think they know everything!”

“Somebody want to tell me what the hell that was all about?” Jim asked.

“Yeah,” Rosco said. “I’d like to know too.”

MaryAnne turned to the two. She told them what had happened the night before with the conversation she had with the boys about Jim.

“Now something’s happened to Enos,” she said. “My guess is somebody ran him off the road or something and the boys found him. They then told Cooter their suspicions when they called him to pick up the patrol car, that being that you are a professional hit man here to settle some score with Enos.”

Jim rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. And they accuse Rosco of watchin’ too much TV.” She paused in thought for a moment.

As if reading the same thoughts, Rosco said, “Maybe somebody didn’t want you to talk to Enos.”

“I was just thinkin’ the same thing,” MaryAnne said. “Does anybody else know you’re here?”

“Well, the lady that hired me, Diane Lloyd, my father and a friend of mine, Angel Martin.” Jim then remembered what he had said to Angel about nobody saying anything about the coins. “Or somebody sold them and then conveniently forgot.”

It was possible Angel had spooked somebody.

“Would it be allright if I made a long distance phone call?” Jim asked.

“Sure,” MaryAnne said. “Oh, wait.” She looked at Rosco and together they said, “Maybelle.”

“Who’s Maybelle?”

“The switchboard operator,” Rosco said. “She’s Boss Hogg’s cousin and you can bet dollars to donuts she’ll be listening in. Very carefully.”

“Unless we commandeer the switchboard.” MaryAnne smiled. “You know, for official police business.”

Rosco snickered.

* * *

While MaryAnne and Rosco were about to commandeer the switchboard, Enos was making a phone call from the Duke farm in regards to the license number Luke had got from that sedan.

“Okay,” Enos was saying. “Thank you very much.” He hung up the Duke’s living room telephone and looked at Jesse, Bo and Luke.

“It’s a car belonging to a rental agency in Atlanta,” he said.

“I knew it,” Luke said.

“Now, wait a minute, Luke,” Enos started.

“It all makes sense now. The two guys that ran ya off the road have to be workin’ with Rockford. While he’s got MaryAnne and Rosco busy lookin’ the other way, these two were tryin’ to kill you.”

“Luke, you’re forgettin’ the important part,” Enos said.

“What?”

“The why. Why’s this guy Rockford after me? I don’t recognize the name.”

“Rockford probably isn’t his real name,” Bo said. “All we know is that you’re stayin’ here ‘til we can get Rosco and MaryAnne to believe us and catch this guy and his two flunkies.”

“That’s right,” Luke said. “You’re safe here, and if we have to, we’ll catch them ourselves.”

Guess Jim’s gonna have to wait ‘til then to talk to Enos, huh?

Rosco, meanwhile, had convinced Maybelle that he had to use the switchboard for official police business.

“What official police business?” she asked.

“Now, see that’s a naughty, naughty,” Rosco said. “It’s confidential and top secret.”

Maybelle looked at Rosco with a ‘yeah, right’ kind of look.

“I’m serious. Listen, if you don’t let me use the switchboard I’m gonna have to arrest ya for interfering with a police investigation.”

“Rosco!”

“I mean it. This is serious.”

Maybelle rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right,” she said. “How long are you gonna be?”

“I’ll come get ya when I’m done.”

Rosco saw Maybelle to the door and watched her go across the street to the Busy Bee Cafe. He then waved over to the courthouse and MaryAnne and Jim hurried across the street.

“Nice job, Rosco,” MaryAnne said. “Okay, you remember how to run this thing?”

“Yeah,” Rosco replied taking a seat in the chair and replacing his hat for the headset.

Jim was chuckling. “You two are something else.”

“I told ya we did things different in Hazzard County,” MaryAnne said with a smile. “You have that number?”

“Yeah,” Jim reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the slip of paper he had written his father’s number, area code and all, on over at the courthouse. He handed it to Rosco.

After Rosco dialed the number he handed the head set to Jim. Jim put the headset on and listened to the ringing on the other end. After three rings, Rocky answered.

“Hello?”

“Dad? It’s Jim.”

“Jimmy! Boy am I glad you called. I think you’re in trouble, sonny.”

“What?”

“That freeloader friend of yours, Angel, left a message on your machine yesterday. He said a couple of fellas roughed him up outside of his apartment building and wanted to know why you were interested in those rare coins. He says he spilled
everything to them, including that you were in Georgia.”

“Oh great,” Jim muttered. “I figured he might have spooked somebody. I suppose he sung like a bird because they threatened to kill him or something.”

“Yeah, something like that. I keep tellin’ ya, Jimmy, he’s never up to any good. Don’t know why you stay friends with him.”

“Rocky, that’s a question I’ve been trying to find an answer to for years.”

* * *

Murray and Russ had found some new wheels and a change of clothes. The clothes, jeans and flannel shirts, they bought. The car they stole. As they drove into town they saw Jim, MaryAnne and Rosco coming out of the telephone company. They
watched as Rosco went one way and Jim and MaryAnne went towards the courthouse.

“Why don’t we take him now?” Murray asked.

“No,” Russ said. “Not with a cop right next to him. To many people could be watching. We’ll get him when the opportunity presents itself.”

MaryAnne and Jim paused by Maverick, waiting for Rosco.

“Well, I don’t think Bo and Luke will settle for being half right,” MaryAnne said. “Somebody was after Enos, only it wasn’t you. Of course, now you’re a target too.” She looked at him. “Any idea who may have been spooked by your friend?”

“My first reaction would be Gerald Coyle, the partner of the man who was murdered. But, then again, it could be somebody else.”

Rosco came out of the cafe followed by Maybelle. As he walked across the street toward them, MaryAnne said to Jim, “Well, trying to talk to Enos now is probably impossible. The boys have probably got him hid out at their farm but you won’t be able
to get near that with a ten foot pole. And with a couple of fellas out there followin’ ya it wouldn’t do any good to drive out there anyway.”

“What about the CB?” Rosco asked as he came up beside MaryAnne.

“I doubt they’ll let Enos near the CB set either. Although I suppose it’s worth a try.” MaryAnne turned and opened the passenger door of Maverick. She sat in the seat and picked up the mike.

“This is Deputy MaryAnne Coltrane callin’ Bo and Luke Duke. You fellas out there? Come on.”

It was a few moments before she received an answer.

“This is Luke, MaryAnne.” There was a tinge of apprehension in his voice. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, I thought you fellas would be interested to know that you were half right. Somebody was after Enos only it ain’t Jim. Now, I think this could be cleared up if you’ll let Enos talk to Jim over the CB right now.”

“MaryAnne, haven’t you stopped to think that the two guys who ran Enos off the road this mornin’ are workin’ with Rockford, if that’s his real name? While he’s got you and Rosco lookin’ the other way, they were gonna try to kill Enos.”

MaryAnne rolled her eyes and looked at Jim and Rosco. “I give up,” she said to them. “I give up!” She pushed the talk button on the mike. “Alright, Luke, fine. I see your brain is still in a gutter somewhere. When you pull it out, let me know, maybe we’ll have something nice to say to one another then.” She threw the mike on the seat beside her.

Well, that was productive.

At that point, Rosco told Jim and MaryAnne that we was goin’ to go check in with Boss. MaryAnne decided to show Jim the cultural center of Hazzard: The Boar’s Nest.

Murray and Russ watched as Jim and MaryAnne got into the blue Firebird with Jim in the driver’s seat. The Sheriff went into the courthouse.

“Alright,” Russ said. “Stay close but not too close.”

Murray turned the ignition and followed Maverick out of the square. They soon realized that trying to follow on wide open country roads that didn’t see much traffic they stayed so far behind so not to be seen that they ended up losing the blue car.

“Nice one, Murray,” Russ said.

“Oh shut up. They couldn’t have gone too far,” Murray retorted. “Get the map out, will ya?”

Jim and MaryAnne, meanwhile, were seated at a table in the Boar’s Nest, which was pretty quiet at this hour. Only a couple of other folks were there as well, seated in two of the booths. Jim had a cold beer in front of him and MaryAnne her usual root beer.

“That won’t be the most exciting beer you’ve ever had,” MaryAnne joked as Jim was about to take a sip. He paused and looked at her then proceeded to drink the beer. He made a face after he swallowed it.

“Told ya. If it was any more watered down, it would be straight water.”

“Blech.” He put the mug down.

MaryAnne smiled. “That’s why I stick with the root beer. At least Boss can’t water that down.”

“He charges a buck for beer that’s only half beer to begin with,” Jim said. “Reminds me of somebody I know back in LA.”

MaryAnne giggled.

Rosco, meanwhile, was sitting in front of the teletype machine in the booking room.

I’m only doing this for the greater good, he thought. Or something like that.

Now ol’ Rosco trusts Jim, but he figured that in order to get Enos back from the boys, he was gonna have to show them in black and white that Jim was legitamate. So, he put in a few phone calls to some places in California and was waiting for a response on the teletype machine.

Before Rosco knew it, the machine started spitting letters on to the paper. He watched as the printed words came in to view.

James Scott Rockford
29 Cove Road, Malibu, California
DOB: April 14, 1931
Height: 6’1” Weight: 172 Eyes: Brown. Hair: Brown.
Vehicle make: Pontiac Year: 1978 Model: Firebird two door coupe. Lisence:
CA 853-OKG
Private Investigators Lisence # 789-33-HG8-223 Issued: Sacramento,
California, 1968. Current and active. Previous actions against: 4 Completed actions
against: 0 Current actions against: 0
Criminal record:
--Five years, San Quentin. Armed Robbery. Convicted: 1963. Full Pardon given
in March of 1968.
Military record:
--1952-1953. Korean Conflict.


Rosco smiled. There it all was, in black in white. As soon as the boys saw this they would have to let Enos talked to Jim.

When the teletype finished it’s job, Rosco ripped the sheet off and folded it up. He slipped it into his pocket and went to grab his hat off the booking desk. He then left the booking room.

Back at the Boar’s Nest, Murray and Russ were pulling up, after spotting the blue Firebird parked out front.

“Remember I said the opportunity would present itself?” Russ said.

“Yeah.”

“It just has.” Russ got out of the car and Murray followed although he had no idea what his partner was up to.

It was several minutes later when Murray and Russ quietly came into the Boar’s Nest. Neither MaryAnne or Jim noticed for they were too busy talking. Murray and Russ stepped up to the bar and each took a seat as Daisy came over to them.

“Howdy. Can I get you fellas something?”

Russ smiled. “Two beers, please.”

“Okay. Comin’ right up.”

As Daisy went to the other end of the bar, Murray nonchalantly pulled a clear glass container slightly smaller in diameter than a lipstick canister out of his shirt pocket. The container was filled with a clear liguid and he palmed the container when Daisy
came back with the beers.

“There ya are.”

“Thank you, Miss,” Russ said.

A few moments later, Rosco pulled up to the Boar’s Nest. In the left pocket of his shirt was the information sheet on Jim, which proved in black and white that Jim Rockford was legitamate. He pulled the piece of paper out then paused.

She’ll think I was suspicious too, he thought. One of the reasons he did it was because technically he had to. As a private investigator, Jim was supposed to ‘check in’ with the local law enforcement of whatever town he was in, which, in a sense, he had. As Sheriff, Rosco was supposed to confirm it. Plus, Rosco was thinking if trouble did get any worse, and he needed to have Enos back immediately, he could show it to the Dukes. He placed the paper back in his pocket, figuring he could wait until such a time it would be needed.

Russ and Murray glanced over at the door when Rosco came in. They exchanged furitive looks with one another and resumed drinking their beers.

Rosco removed his hat as he sat down at the table with Jim and MaryAnne.

“Hey,” Jim greeted. “You’ve decided to join us?”

“Only for a moment,” Rosco said. “MaryAnne, you realize that with Enos in ‘protective custody’ of the Dukes, we gotta refigure the whole patrol schedule.”

“Oh shoot,” MaryAnne moaned. “Can’t anybody convince Boss that we need more deputies?” It was a rhetorical question, and Jim caught a glimpse of Rosco shaking his head slightly to himself. “Well,” she said, “might as well head back to town.”

“Wait, can I at least buy you a drink before you leave?” Jim asked.

“Well, I don’t drink on duty,” Rosco said.

“Root beer then?” Jim gestured to MaryAnne’s mug. “I’ll pay for it.”

“Well,” Rosco said. “Allright.”

Jim smiled. He then looked toward Daisy behind the bar and said, “Miss? May I have another root beer here, please?”

“Sure thing, sugar.” As Daisy turned to get a mug, Murray lightly nudged Russ. Russ gave a slight nod.

Daisy filled the mug with cold, frothy root beer. She placed the glass on a tray and then picked up the tray and came around the bar.

Before she got to the table, Russ’s beer suddenly went crashing to the floor.

“Oh, damn,” he said.

Daisy swung around at the spilt beer and broken glass on the floor.

“Oh, Miss, I’m sorry,” Russ said, looking at Daisy.

“That’s okay,” Daisy said. She placed the tray on the bar near Murray. She then went to the end of the bar and grabbed a garbage bag and came back and bent down to pick up the large chunks of glass. Russ also bent down to help.

“Here, let me help,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to cut those pretty hands.”

Daisy smiled appreciatively.

You’ll notice it has to take a lot more to get folks attention and keep it at the Boar’s Nest. It was fairly regularly that a glass got broken somehow.

When Murray was sure no one was watching him, he placed his hand with the container over the mug of root beer and dumped the clear liguid into the dark brown. He then tucked the empty container into his shirt pocket.

After Daisy had placed the large pieces of glass in the bag and then toweled up the rest, she thanked Russ for his help and finally delivered the root beer to Jim.

“Sorry about that,” she said as she placed the mug on the table.

“That’s alright,” Jim said. “Oh, this is for the Sheriff.”

“Oh!” Daisy picked up the mug and put it infront of Rosco. “There ya are, Rosco.”

“Thanks, Daisy.” Rosco gripped the handle of the mug and lifted it to take a sip.

Friends, he’s gonna drink that!

And he did. Russ and Murray were figiting something fierce as they watched Rosco take a sip of the root beer.

“Russ...” Murray whispered.

Russ gritted his teeth and shrugged.

Before he left, Rosco ended up drinking nearly three quarters of the root beer while chatting with Jim and MaryAnne. When he finally stood to leave, MaryAnne told him that she and Jim would be following in a few minutes.

Outside, Rosco paused by his patrol car as he felt the beginings of a headache comeing on. He shrugged it off, figuring he was just tired and that as soon as he and MaryAnne figured out the patrol schedule he could sneak a snooze then. He got into his
patrol car and drove away from the Boar’s Nest.

As he did, Russ and Murray came out in time to watch the patrol car disappear down the road.

“What do we do?” Murray asked. “We just branded the wrong steer. If he ends up dead this place’ll be crawling with law enforcement.”

“What do you wanna do, go save him?” Russ said.

“You gotta a better idea?”

Russ thought. “No. Alright, come on, see if we can save him.”

They hurried to their car and drove off after Rosco.

Rosco, meanwhile, wasn’t even two miles from the Boar’s Nest when his vision started to blur. He blinked his eyes and gave his head a shake.

The drug’s velvet glove of sleep was tightening it’s grip on Rosco’s consciousness. Rosco fought the urge to surrender to it to place his foot on the brake to stop his patrol car. He pushed on it, jerking the car to a slower speed. The sudden lunge
of the patrol car gave him one last chance to bring the car to a complete stop. He pushed his foot on the brake again giving it all the strength he could find. The car stopped, but Rosco never had the chance to shift it into park. He lost his fight against the drug and fell back against the seat, surrendering to the darkness.

The patrol car remained still for a moment, it’s brake lights brilliantly lit. Murray and Russ came arond the corner and saw the stopped patrol car.

“I think he stopped in time,” Murray said.

They watched as the brake lights flickered then the patrol car started to creep forward.

“Russ!”

Rosco’s foot fell off the brake and the patrol car started to pick up speed as it rolled down the slight downgrade that eventually led to a cliff over looking Stillson Canyon.

With nothing guiding the steering wheel, the patrol car swerved to the left, lightly bumping the hill that ran along the road. The car slowed, the steering shifted to the right and the car continued it’s decent down the road.

Murray stepped on the accelerator to try to catch up to the Plymouth. Coming down the road behind them were Bo and Luke in the General. They were heading to town to try to get Rosco or MaryAnne alone and try to get them to listen to their
suspicions. They saw the white patrol car and the white sedan and watched the patrol car swerve into the hill and then into the sedan.

“Luke...”

“I see it.”

Russ caught a glimpse of the General in the side mirror on the passenger door. “Murray, it’s them fellas in that orange car. Get out of here.”

Murray flew past the patrol car, the back fender of the sedan clicking with the quarter panel of the patrol car. The patrol car continued to roll along the road.

The boys watched the sedan disappear down the road, turning around the hill. They then looked at the patrol car as it continued to swerve.

“Luke, he ain’t drivin’ that car!” Bo excalimed.

“I see him. He must be out or something. Bring the General up as close as you can. Let’s hope we can get to him before he goes over the cliff.”

“Yeah.” Bo stepped on the accelerator and brought the General closer to the back of the patrol car. As Luke climbed out the window, Bo said, “Careful, cousin.”

“As always,” Luke replied. He stepped onto the scooped hood of the General waving for Bo to bring the Dodge closer to the Plymouth. Bo eased onto the accelerator so as not to cause Luke to lose his balance. Bo got the push bar on the front of the
General a few inches from the chrome bumper of the patrol car. Luke lept on to the trunk, grabbing onto the roof of the car.

“C’mon Luke,” Bo said, seeing they were coming closer to the turn in the road, which if the patrol car didn’t make it, would send Rosco and Luke flying off the road and off the cliff into Stillson Canyon.

Luke climbed up on to the roof , over the gumballs and slid into the passenger window. He looked at Rosco, who was leaning against the corner of the seat and the driver door. He then looked up the road and saw the turn was getting closer. Moving
across the seat as far as he could he reached with his foot to the brake pedal. He grabbed the steering wheel and turned the car, bringing it to a skidding stop just a few feet from the edge of the road and the mere five foot extention of the cliff.

Bo brought the General to a sliding stop and scrambled out of the window of the car. He ran to the driver door of the patrol car.

“You allright, Luke?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Bo looked at Rosco. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know. Rosco?” Luke lightly slapped Rosco on the side of the face. When Rosco didn’t stir, Luke touched his fingers to Rosco’s neck to feel for a pulse. He suddenly looked at Bo in concern. “His pulse is really weak. I think we better get him to
the hospital. Help me move him over here to the passenger seat. We’ll never get him in and out of the General.”

Bo pulled open the driver door and Luke opened the passenger door to let himself out as he and Bo moved Rosco’s uncouncious form over to the passenger seat.

“Why don’t you drive?” Luke said. “I’ll follow in the General and call Uncle Jesse on the CB, see if he can find MaryAnne.”

“Alright.”

Don’t go catchin’ your breath yet, folks.

MaryAnne and Jim were heading back to town on Highway 30, the other road that led from the Boar’s Nest to town. MaryAnne had no idea anything was amiss, with Rosco or her own situation for that matter, until Maverick started to cruise down the hill and she went to step on the brake.

When she didn’t feel any resistence, she looked down at the pedal and pressed it again. Panic started to set in when she pushed it all the way to the floor and the car only continued to pick up speed.

Jim could already tell something was wrong before MaryAnne even spoke.

“Uh, MaryAnne...”

“Jim, I ain’t got no brakes!” MaryAnne gripped the steering wheel, trying to keep the Firebird on the road.

“Hang on,” she said as Maverick came to the bottom of the hill and on to flat roadway at more than 60 miles an hour.

Coming in the other direction was a truck carrying a load of fresh eggs. The driver was bug eyed at the Firebird swerving towards him. He panicked and slammed the brakes as he turned the truck to the right, trying to get it out of the road. The crates went flying off the back of the truck and crashed onto the hood and windshield of Maverick as the car went zooming by. MaryAnne slammed one foot on the clutch, the other on the emergency brake and attempted to put Maverick in neutral. The wheels squealed at the sudden resistence and MaryAnne turned the car off the road, through a couple of bushes and finally it came to a stop in the grass in a field.

Her hands were still superglued to the steering wheel when Jim spoke.

“You okay?”

“I think so. You?”

“Yeah.” He paused catching his breath. “Nice driving,” he congratualted.

MaryAnne heaved a sigh. “Thank you. I think.” She finally peeled her fingers off the steering wheel and got out of the car. She looked at the yellow mess and broken egg shells that were streaked across the hood and windshield. She then kneeled down and reached behind the wheel. She touched her hand on the brake line and could feel it was slimed with fluid and there was fine slit on the hose. When she brought her hand out, her fingers were covered with the dark fluid. She wiped it on her black uniform pants and stood to go check the other side where Jim was already standing with the same dark fluid on his fingers.

“I don’t believe this,” MaryAnne said.

Jim pulled a handkercheif from his pocket and started to wipe the fluid off of his fingers. “All that egg isn’t going to help the paint any.”

“I ain’t worried about the paint! I’m worried about you. Jim, somebody’s trying to kill you! For a case you’ve only been working on for two days, you’ve sure made somebody mad.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah. We almost added another Firebird to your list of vehicular KIA’s. Not to mention me and yourself.”

“MaryAnne, I’m sorry--”

“Oh, Jim I ain’t mad at you, it’s other things.” She paused to collect herself together. “Okay. I’m gonna call Cooter and hope to heck he’ll tow us in. Maybe we can convince him to try to convince the boys about you so we can get to the bottom of all
this.” She leaned in Maverick and changed the channel on the CB. When she stopped on the channel to call Cooter, she heard Uncle Jesse.

“...callin’ MaryAnne Coltrane, you got yer ears on?”

MaryAnne picked up the mike.

“This is MaryAnne. What’s up, Jesse?”

“It’s Rosco. The boys found him unconcious in his patrol car. They couldn’t wake him up so they’re takin him to the hospital.”

MaryAnne reeled a little and gripped the edge of the door to steady herself. She was briefly hit with a spell of dizzyness and suddenly felt Jim’s hand on her shoulder. “Oh no...” she whispered. She then lifted the mike and pushed the talk button. “Jesse.
Jesse, I ain’t got no way to get to the hospital. Somebody tampered with the brakes on Maverick and Jim and I are stuck out here in a field off Highway 30.”

“Are you allright?”

“We’re fine, except Rosco’s on his way to the hospital I can’t get to him!”

“You will, ‘cuz I’m on my way to get ya. You just sit tight.”

“Thank you, Jesse. I’m gone.”

“Ten-four.”

MaryAnne dropped the mike into the car and then slammed her hand in anger against the column of the windshield. “Damn!” she yelled and then clenched her fists.

“Easy, easy now,” Jim said soothingly, placing both hands on her shoulders to stop her from shaking.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. She wiped her eyes with the edge of her shirt sleeve and took a deep breath. “It’s just when something happens to Rosco and I can’t get to him it sends me right up the wall.” She turned and looked up to Jim’s face. His brown eyes were sympathetic and he nodded.

“I’m sure he’s going to be okay,” he said trying to offer some kind of encouragement. Remembering what he had said to Rosco the night before, how he wouldn’t be causing any trouble, Jim wondered though if he was supposed to be where
Rosco was now.

Go to Chapter 4