Disclaimer I own very little, especially not CSI NY. But I wish I did.

Notes Thank you very much indeed for all the reviews, I've been so happy to receive them all! Do please continue! It's brilliant that you're enjoying reading it, and thank you for letting me know.

This is Don Flack's chapter. With a guest character appearance at Shining Zephyr's request : ) Enjoy!

Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?

Chapter 4: You're looking at your Shane

Flack:

It ain't no stranger ridin' towards us, and I know for damn sure Mac ain't gonna be happy about this. Aw, crap. I'd recognise those hoof beats and that fly blown cloud of dust anywhere. Look who's gallopin' into town. Last thing we need on a day like today; Stan Gerrard sneakin' up on us, no doubt to ride our asses over some nit-pickin' matter. Man sure as hell seems to have it in for us. Can't truly say I know why. Mac rarely talks on the matter, except to cuss politely 'bout the man. Never in front of him though, saves it till he's cantered back across the plains. There's some history there, but it ain't my business to pry into his affairs. Strikes me as strange also why Gerrard rides in when there's a perfectly good railroad. P'raps he likes the effect it has on us, tryin' to impress us humble town folk with his tarnished silver spurs and stetson. Or else there's something about riding hard over rough ground that appeals to him. Best not to think too much about that.

Yeah, it's him, and Mac's lookin' mighty pissed off. No one's dropped their guns I see, certainly not me. I'm keepin' a hold of mine till I know what he's after. Jeez, even Hammerback's pulled out an antique Remington. Where the hell he resurrected that from I'd like to know. Man's full of surprises, as well as disturbing stories. Kind that can make you wish you hadn't eaten a full breakfast of grits, eggs, bacon, beans and everything else when he tells you in unnecessary detail about some poor 'customer' left lyin' around too long in the sun.

Messer, I note, seems to have acquired himself a shotgun, no doubt Mac'll be keepin' a close eye on what he does with it. I suspect too he's also keepin' a close eye on what he does with Miss Monroe. Not that she seems too much of the type to need an eye on, a looking out for eye anyhow, that's all I mean. Yep, Danny's found himself a fine young woman there, only hope he don't go breaking her heart. And I'm hopin' there's another fine young woman in town who might cast her eye my way one of these days.

Miss Monroe seems to be the only one who don't have a gun to call her own. Maybe Stella could sort something out for her, sure she has a few to spare. Woman seems to have 'em lyin' around all over the place, and all over her person. She ain't someone to mess with, as Danny and many others have found to their cost. Maybe Mac'll lock Gerrard into a room with her; now there's a suggestion… I know who my money'd be on walkin' out of there whole and smiling. Sure as hell wouldn't be the man wearing a grimy stetson and chaps that look like they've been dragged along behind a wagon train for a week, who's now clatterin' along Main Street. Never trust a man who don't take a bit of pride in his appearance.

Here he comes now, and even his horse don't fit him properly. Heck, he ain't even wearing his tie in the right and proper style. I wouldn't step foot outside the front porch without mine fastened up. Young Ross tried to get me into wearin' a new-fangled so-called bolo tie last week; said it was the latest fashion outta Mexico. Don't hold with all that sort of thing though. I'm stickin' with what I know and trust. I sure don't trust Gerrard, but guess I'd better lower my rifle case it accidentally gets fired. Mac's lowered his I see, and given the signal for the rest of us to do so. Reluctantly.

"Stan." He drawls, "What can we be doin' for you today? Is there a problem? Only it don't seem that long since we last saw you."

He's got that right, "Last week wasn't it, Mac?" I decide to chip in, "Remember it, 'cause it was when Mrs Kennedy's little Jimmy decided to throw…"

"I recall well enough when it was thank you, Donald, and what happened." Gerrard growls, takin' advantage of my Christian name, "Nothing wrong with my memory. Yours and Taylor's on the other hand, we may have something of a problem with."

"Is that so?" Mac's got a perilous edge to his voice, and everyone seems to be sorta' paused, waiting. I'm right beside him, and it's kinda' comforting to have the feel of my rifle butt in my hand. Just in case.

"Yeah, it's so. Seems as if someone ain't fine and dandy with what's been happening in this here town of yours." He smiles a real nasty smile, and spits out a stream of tobacco, which lands just in front of my feet. Disgustin' habit. I stare him right in the eyes; as I expect, he looks away.

"You got a problem with us?" I challenge him, takin' a step closer, kicking the dirt as I do, "If ya do, we'd love to hear it, only as you might have noticed, we got a problem here that needs fixin' first before any problem you have."

Everyone draws aside to reveal the dead man sprawled at Hammerback's feet in the dirt. We all can't help noticin' now the knife sticking out of his chest. Poor Miss Monroe looks a little green at this point, and I catch Stella's eye.

She tucks her hand through Miss Monroe's arm, "Lindsay, if you don't mind, I could sure use a hand over at my place laying out some fabrics I had in mind for a couple of dresses. Perhaps you could look your eye over them and give me your honest thoughts? Knowin' how good you are with that sort of thing, reckon I could use your expertise. What do you say?"

"Why, I'd love to Stella. That would be real nice, thank you."

I'm happy to see her smile gratefully, and the two ladies then walk back over to the saloon. It don't escape my notice that Danny watches them go the whole way across the street, and that Stella glances back more than once at us. Even from that distance I can see the glint like a cut throat razor in her eye, meant for Gerrard. He's crossed her patience on more than one occasion, the last time being as I recollect when he called her, 'Little Missy'. Never seen such an interestin' and imaginative use made of a soda siphon. Mac and I still smile at the memory.

Gerrard seems pleased to see her departure, "Not a suitable choice of living for a woman." He mutters, "Ain't right, and it sure ain't ladylike."

You can almost feel the ice form in the air, particularly around Mac. His knuckles tighten around his rifle.

"Miss Bonasera is nothin' less than a lady, and I'll thank you to remember that, Stan." He tells him, voice like a knife.

Gerrard has the downright, barefaced audacity to sneer, "Sure, Taylor, whatever you say. Now, we're wasting my valuable time here. You and I need to exchange a few words. Get yourself over to your office, and I can tell you what your problems are. Donald, seems like your time'd be better spent right where you are, cleaning up the street of whoever this unfortunate cowpoke was. A deputy's job ain't all glamour y'know. No doubt your papa could have told you that."

One more millimetre and he's crossed my line, "No doubt but he did, Mr Gerrard. There ain't any fancy dreams I have about this job and this here town. I do my duty, whatever it may be." There's no more to be said to him, so I turn my back, and draw in one hell of a deep breath.

Mac claps a hand on my shoulder, "Don, we'll talk later. Soon as Stan and I have had our discussion. You'll be the first to know. And I'd appreciate you fillin' me in soon as you get any more information about this gentleman."

"You got my word, Mac." I appreciate the gesture. Likely Mac's the only one who could handle Gerrard right now. Honestly, I don't trust my temper at this point. They walk back over to the office, Gerrard trailing a way behind, Mac leading the way. Now there's a man with a real stride of authority.

"Mr Flack," Hammerback speaks up, "What would you suggest we do with this gentleman? I don't think we can leave him just lying around in the street, it's really most disrespectful. Not to mention quite unhygienic this time of year. Human flesh, when it starts to decompose…"

It's a warm June day, and I'm shudderin' already, "Just take him into your establishment, if you please, Hammerback. Doctor Hawkes might be the man to assist us at this point. Messer, make yourself good and useful, fetch the doc over."

Danny grins, he don't take offence too easily, "Sure, Flack. Anythin' to save your legs, huh? Gettin' too old for errand running are ya? No matter, it ain't a problem for my young legs." He shoots off, but not before I get my own comment off.

"Longer legs, younger brain, better looks. Remember that and you'll go far." I pretend I ain't seen the finger he flicks at me.

Give him his dues though, he's back in not many minutes, Sheldon Hawkes comin' up close behind him. Hawkes, now there's a man to admire. Been set up here in Hattanville many years, seen a whole host of patients, not all of 'em as respectful as they should be. But he never passes judgement or prejudices himself, no sir. Just gets on with his duty, and I happen to know he refuses to take a nickel from any of the poorer folk of the town, and it ain't gonna be me who says a word against that.

"Afternoon to you, Flack, I hear you have someone you'd like me to take a look at?" He's already crouching down beside the deceased, poking about at him. Hammerback's looking on with interest. I'm happy not to look too closely.

"Dead man in a trough. Miss Monroe and Danny came across him not half an hour ago, Doc. Appears someone stuck a knife into him and took him outta this world."

"And I do wonder which world was waiting for him." Hammerback looks kinda pensive. What places he goes to when he gets that sorta' faraway look in his eyes, I don't even wanna think about.

"Well, whichever it was, ain't our problem. Right now, we need to figure out who sent him there and why. Somethin' you two gentlemen I'm hoping are gonna be able to help with. Your thoughts, Doc?"

He gives me a frown, "You know, Flack, I'm not so sure this is as straightforward as it seems."

Great, just great. Dead man in a water trough, with a knife sticking outta him. Seemed pretty straightforward to me. And I gotta be the one who tells Mac if it ain't.

"Hit me with it, Hawkes, won't pretend to you that I'm gonna like what you might have to say."

"I'm almost certain that he was dead before he was stabbed. See?" I don't see. He points to the knife and the hole, and I begin to regret the four slices of Mrs Hammerback's cake I consumed earlier.

"What makes you say that?" Hopefully nobody's noticed the faintest hint of a tremor in my voice.

"There isn't a whole lot of blood here. Another thing, there's a strange smell on the body." Oh, jeez, that really makes my stomach heave, Hawkes leans in and almost presses his nose into the corpse. "You smell that, Hammerback? Sort of a sweet, almond smell?"

And Hammerback leans in for a sniff too. Dear god. I knew I shoulda' stopped after two slices. What is it with dead bodies and these two? Aw, hell. Now even Messer's lookin' curious.

"Yeah, I smell it too. Reminds me of somethin'. You wanna take a sniff, Flack?"

"No! The hell I do! You three have sniffed more than enough. You figure it out, then tell me."

"I think, and I may need to confirm this with Ross, that potassium cyanide has been used here, Flack. That's what the almond smell is." Hawkes finally leaves the body alone and stands up, "If I can have your permission to do so, I'd like to take a closer look."

Hammerback is nodding, far too enthusiastically for my liking, "Yes, yes, I think you're quite right, Doctor Hawkes. And something else has struck me now. I knew I'd smelled something like that only very recently. You recall, Mr Flack, the tobacco I kept from our missing gentleman? That was the unusual odour on it, potassium cyanide, a bitter almond smell." He suddenly turns even paler than usual, "What a terrible mishap that would have been had I decided to smoke it. Not that I am a smoker, but I might have been. Or I might have passed it to someone who was. Oh dear me, how would that have seemed? The town undertaker trying to increase his business by nefarious means. A dreadful tragedy has been averted here."

"I'm delighted, however, we still have a problem here, one man dead, one dead man missing." It's time to get decisive, "Doc, get a hold of Ross, then however many of you it takes, investigate the body, and the tobacco, and find out what you can. I'll be there to assist, from a distance. You all with me on this?"

Everyone nods, and we head over, body included, to Hammerback's establishment. Damn. This is one of the longest days of my life. And I ain't even had lunch yet.

Hope you enjoyed this one! Flack is the only character I've written as before. Please review, I'd love to know what you thought. Thank you, Lily x