"It's like pulling teeth to get anything around here." Brisco muttered as he watched Bill Jackson slink out the tiny room located above the courthouse where Jessie was being housed for the duration of the trial. A fact he learned of only ten minutes before after trying, unsuccessfully, to locate her in the jail cell he had left her less than twenty-four hours before. After the time spent with Ludlum and the snide comments he received from one of the three men who had been in Ludlum's office, who just happened to be the sheriff, as he tried to locate his sister, he was in no mood to listen to the deputy's half-assed excuses why Brisco was not allowed to converse with Jessie. After nearly two minutes of stammering on the deputy's part, Brisco had lost all patience and composure, choosing rather to go through the smaller man than to try and lay out why he was, in fact, allowed to speak with his sister. And when Bill tried to follow him into the doorway, Brisco nearly laid him out right there, with one quick punch, only to be talked down by a surprisingly calm Jessie. And once she got involved, Brisco was surprised how quickly the deputy backed down and agreed to leave the outlaw alone wit her lawyer, if only for a few moments.

Jessie shrugged but remained silent, shifting uncomfortably, the ever-present heavy chains dragging across the floor as she moved.

"I figured we go over what exactly they're charging you with." When Jessie still remained silent, Brisco pulled a chair next to the bed where his sister sat, laying the thick folder in front of him.

"What's that?"

"Statements. From witnesses Ludlum plans to call to the stand."

"Hmm." Jessie traced the edge of the aged folder with a slender finger, then went back to the attention she had been giving to the clamps around her wrists.

"And seeing as how I have less than an hour and a half before your trial resumes, I figured it'd be quicker for you to tell me the events of every robbery that took place here in Arizona than it would for me to go over each and every one of these statements."

"It probably would be."

"Good." Brisco reached into the folder and pulled a few sheets of blank writing paper and a lead pencil from inside. "So, start from the beginning."

"I don't know why you really need to write this down."

"So, I can remember it." Brisco shot back, a little confused by the statement.

"It's real simple, Brisco. You put me on that stand and I'll say I did whatever the hell it is they said I did. Simple, easy, and to the point." Brisco heaved a deep sigh and tossed the pencil down in irritation as he glanced up to catch her stare.

"You do that, and you're an idiot."

"Whatever."

"Damn it, Jess." Brisco hissed, his anger reaching the boiling point for the third time that day. "Can you at least pretend to work with me here? Maybe humor me a little bit?"

"Sure. You know what, anything for you." Jessie shot back, sarcasm dipping from her voice.

"I'm trying to keep you alive."

"And I appreciate that, but it doesn't matter. So do whatever it is you want to do, but I'm telling you, right here, right now, I go on that stand, I say I'm guilty."

"Yeah? Why? Because you're stupid enough to be willing to die to protect a dead man in some twisted sense of loyalty?" Brisco asked, angrily, trying hard to keep his voice low enough so no one else would be able to hear. "Tell me, what the hell did he ever do for you?" The flash in Jessie's eyes made Brisco immediately regret bringing 'Doc' Sutton into the conversation at all. But, he couldn't help it. Jessie's flippant attitude certainly was not sitting well with him after all the hoops he had to jump through for her.

"Don't you ever speak in that tone about him again." Jessie growled. "You have no idea. None. You didn't even know him."

"I'm sorry." Brisco said, quietly. "But I'm trying to help you here. I don't understand why you can't see that."

"I wouldn't have needed you here if you just would have left me alone instead of tracking me to Hatchita."

"So I was just supposed to let you die?"

"Yeah. You were."

"That's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"Yeah, maybe. But if anyone ever finds out you helped me, you're dangling right alongside me. And I'd feel a little bad about that." Jessie gave her brother a small smile, but when he didn't return it, the grin faded and her brow furrowed. "I'm not protecting anyone, for your information. The man responsible for a majority of the killings I'm certain they're going to blame on me, is still alive."

"So, why don't you just say that?"

"Because I'm planning on dealing with that man in my own way, Brisco. That's why."

"How do you plan on doing that if you're hanging from the end of a rope?"

"I had a plan, that is, until you decided to show up and ruin it for me." Jessie mocked. "Now, I have to stick around here so these townspeople don't take their frustrations out on you."

"You had a plan?" Brisco asked, an eyebrow cocked in disbelief.

"Yes, I had a plan."

"Okay, what was it?" Brisco inquired, fully expecting the pregnant pause that followed.

"Like I'm going to tell you." Jessie finally answered, rolling her eyes.

"Because you didn't have one."

"Yes, I did!"

"You did not."

"Did so!"

"Not!"

"Then tell me."

"No. Because it's not any of your business. So there."

"Yeah, okay." Brisco leaned back as he ran a hand through his hair. "Listen to me, I want to hear about the robberies that took place here in Arizona. I want you to give your accounts, and I don't want to hear anything other then that from you, understand?" Brisco's tone was soft, yet authoritative. Jessie stared hard at him for a few moments before giving a slight nod. Not so much an agreement, Brisco realized, but a motion, meant to keep him satisfied. "Good." Brisco leaned forward and grabbed the pencil tightly in his hand, willing to take the brief accord for all it was worth. "We'll start with Mesa."

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"I thought the problem was going to be taken care of."

Sheriff Mitt Trent barely glanced up from the overdue cleaning he was giving his Colt revolver, giving the lean man before him a half-hearted shrug.

"I was assured you knew what you were doing."

"Yeah, well, that mare we roped him to wasn't much of one for listening. Who would've thought County could've gotten that horse not only to stop, but to stay calm long enough to keep a rider with her, Mr. Hawthorne." Lee Hawthorne's cold gaze failed to waver, even as the sheriff tried to win the unspoken battle of wills between them. Trent snorted in disgust and was the first to glance away, busying himself with reassembling the nickel plated revolver.

"I'm not asking for excuses, Sheriff Trent. I don't want her brother here."

"What's the big deal, anyway?" Trent asked. "You've already bought off the judge and every member on that jury. That little whore's as good as dead." Hawthorne's weathered grey eyes narrowed.

"I don't need any unwanted attention brought here. The whole trial is just a rouse to keep those folks back East that see the West as full of nothing more than a ruthless, bloody-thirsty uncouth cow folk who deal out justice in their own way. I can't do business with people who think I'm nothing more than a merciless hound."

"Yeah, I heard all that before."

"So having an inept lawyer like Jonathan Howell representing Jessie County is certainly in my best interest." Trent shrugged a shoulder again, clearly uninterested. Angry, Hawthorne slammed a heavy hand on the table, startling Trent and causing the base pin to roll across the battered oak unencumbered and fall to the floor. "You might not think this is such a big deal, but if that Brisco County Jr. gets wind the judge and jury already have their minds made up, he's liable to call in people who really are by-the-book, and might give a damn about justice and law and order. Which means, your little set-up here, all the kickbacks you receive disappear. Vanish." Trent reached down to retrieve the fallen piece of the revolver, the look on his face making it clear he fully understood why Hawthorne was so concerned.

"Then, we'll just call up the lynch mob early." Trent finally said, his voice wavering slightly. "That sort of justice happens all the time. That bounty hunter won't think twice. Well make sure nothing gets traced back to you."

"You make sure that happens. Tonight." Hawthorne hissed, slowly rising to his feet, his eyes still locked on Trent's. "If she's not hanging from the end of a rope by morning, I'll make sure you'll be."