A.N. Hey thanks guys, for the feedback, and thanks to someone for mentioning that the events surrounding Nick's death need to be cleared up. I hope you enjoy. I should be posting a few more chapters in the next few days.

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Brass

Through the observation glass window, Brass had his first clear, unobstructed view of their suspect. He had thin, sallow features, and a smattering of day-old stubble over his cheeks. Probably had a few things to worry about, these last few days, Brass thought distastefully.

The suspect's slitted, dark black eyes darted over the glass wall for a long, measured moment, as if knowing that someone was there, watching him, before returning to the empty chair across the institutional steel table.

The door to the observation room slid open softly, just as Catherine and the day shift CSI assigned to the case strode into the interrogation room with Detective Marlow.

Brass peeled his gaze away from their entrance, frowning slightly as Warrick stood quietly beside him, arms folding over his chest.

"You shouldn't be in here, Rick", he said, sighing.

Warrick kept his gaze riveted ahead, features twisted in an unreadable mask almost identical to the one Grissom had perfected. "You gonna ask me to leave?"

Brass clenched his jaw, returning his gaze to the other room resignedly. Warrick knew as well as he did there was no way he was kicking him out. Brass really shouldn't be there any more than him. But he needed to know. He needed to see that bastard's face.

He quietly turned on the audio panel, and listened.

"Mr. Tyler", Catherine started, features schooled into a perfect visage of composure. They had managed to hold him for several hours on a traffic charge before securing a warrant for his apartment. Brass knew Catherine well enough to guess that they had something on him now.

"We have evidence that places you at the Las Vegas National Park on Thursday night. Would you care to explain that?"

Tyler stared back at her unwaveringly. "I'm a ranger at the wildlife reserve. I'm there a lot".

"At night?"

Tyler leaned back in his chair casually. "Yeah, sometimes. I like to peg out tourist hikes. Sometimes we camp overnight. I was looking for the right area."

The day shift CSI cleared his throat. "We also found samples of your DNA at a crime scene."

Tyler folded his arms idly. "Yeah, I saw the flashing lights, and went to check it out."

Catherine pursed her lips. "Do you own a gun, Mr. Tyler?"

Tyler blinked. "Well, yeah. All rangers are licensed to carry one".

Catherine nodded slowly. "Well, what I find interesting, Mr. Tyler, is that we found casings from a .33 calibre rifle at the crime scene. You see, all bullets have unique markings. Bullets in your rifle match the ones we found exactly."

For the first time, Brass saw a nervous tick develop on Tyler's lower jaw. Catherine pressed on, maintaining her calm façade. "See, here's what I think happened, Mr. Tyler. You were smart enough to use gloves when you handled the rifle, but not smart enough to realise that we could track you through the casings you left behind. You had a… relationship, with the victim, correct?"

When he didn't respond, she went on, voice lowering dangerously. "Valerie Reynolds, your ex-girlfriend? She worked at the ranger's station too, and several of your colleagues agree that they heard you having an argument that night before the end of your shift. You followed her out to the parking lot, right? It was a quiet night, and you'd been stewing over the whole thing long enough. Figured you couldn't let her get away with humiliating you in front of your friends, huh? I mean, sh e must have ended it, didn't she? But you couldn't let it go. So you shot her. And you dumped her body in the Park, careful to cover up your tracks.

"But you went home, and you realised you left something behind. I don't know, a watch, your wallet, what was it? So you went back to the scene. And you didn't realise the cops had been called, did you? You… panicked, I'm guessing, when they started combing the scene, and hid while you waited for them to leave, or for you to get a chance to split.

"Only it didn't work out that way, did it? The CSIs working the scene stumbled across you, and you really freaked then. You still had the rifle, and they saw that, and you got into a little tussle."

Catherine was really worked up now, and she didn't bother hiding it. "You shot Nick Stokes five times, and disfigured his face so badly his family will barely be able to recognise his body. Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Tyler. You made a big mistake that night. You killed a law enforcement officer in full view of two witnesses, and if the evidence won't speak against you, then they will. Why don't you stew about that for twenty-five years, to life?"

Tyler fingers clenched painfully into the flesh of his arms, and he obviously sensed he was gone. He straightened in his chair, eyes narrowing distastefully. "He should have gotten out of my way", he said darkly. "But he had to play hero. Bet he's not so tough now".

Catherine rose to her feet, chair screeching on the floor. Warrick whirled for the door in a sudden show of anger. "That's it".

"Warrick!" Brass yelled. He swore when Warrick shot out into the hall, and the door to the interrogation room slammed roughly against the wall as the black CSI stalked inside. He went straight for Tyler, seizing him by the lapels of his shirt, and lifting him from his chair, slamming him against the wall.

"You SON-OF-A-BITCH!" He yelled in his face, cutting off his air-supply by pressing his hands into his neck. "You think this is a joke, huh? You're looking at the DEATH SENTENCE, bro! You think that's funny? I DO! You killed one of our own, and don't think we won't see you fry!"

"WARRICK!" Catherine exclaimed, frantically rounding the table.

Brass quickly rushed into the room, but Detective Marlow was already on him, carefully tugging him from Tyler's thin frame. Tyler crumpled over, coughing into his fist pitifully as Warrick was forced to release him. Warrick glared down at him with the intensity of pure, unadulterated hatred.

Catherine grabbed him by the arm, gently but firmly tugging him out into the hall. "It's okay, it's over", she said softly, soothingly, forcing him to follow her.

Brass found his own gaze levelling darkly down at Tyler's pathetic, hunched figure. "You think it was worth it now?" he said coldly.

He felt Marlow's warning hand close on his broad arm, and he shook him off, striding out into the hall.

Warrick leant against the wall, nodding mutely as Catherine spoke to him softly. She rubbed his arm lightly, and Brass just stood in the middle of the hall, watching them with slight despair. He didn't think anyone was going to fault Warrick for what he did in there.

The cruel reality of what had just happened hit Brass for the first time, and he forced himself to sink unseeingly into a nearby chair. This wasn't like the death of Holly Gribbs. Nick was one of them, and if it wasn't for how he had acted, two more of them would be down in the morgue.

He couldn't even allow himself to feel some measure of closure at the fact that they had found his killer. Nick had died in a fit of stupid, panicked passion, and it had been an unnecessary, meaningless occurrence.

Nothing was ever going to be the same after this. Nothing.

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TBC…