A/N: My continuing thanks to mingsmommy for the awesome beta, as usual. Warning: Hmmmm, don't think I've ever actually written this – This chapter contains character death (as if you hadn't guessed). I thought the character was worthy of the warning. Oh and SweetSouthern – This is for you: *Slips on hat* *Puts feet up* *Grabs a beer* *Smiles* *Strokes hat*
Hehehehe, sorry but I loves my hat. Please don't hate me.
Chapter 46
Grissom ran, with all the strength he could muster, which wasn't that much, but he found a sudden urgency and sprinted until he reached the body. Then, he came to a rough halt, just a few feet away as his wide eyes scanned over the form on the floor. His fists clenched and his mouth dropped open as he saw who the victim was.
"Oh God…" he gasped, quickly getting onto his knees and pulling the young man's head into his hands.
"Warrick!" he shouted in desperation, shaking him, "Warrick!"
Within a matter of seconds his hands were coated in blood, as well as his shirt, but no signs of life came from the worker and Grissom's face crumbled.
"Oh, dear lord," the captain's voice sounded and Grissom's head slowly turned and his eyes met his bosses.
"He's dead," the younger man whispered.
The captain held his hand to his mouth and Conrad looked on as Grissom carefully laid Warrick's head back onto the cold dirt and stood.
Grissom looked back to the body and pointed, sucking in a deep breath. "Someone shot him in the throat. They…they…" he stuttered, "…they murdered him." His watery eyes flicked back to the captain and Grissom shook his head. "Why? What did he do?"
Struggling for an answer the older man stepped forward, his eyes passing over the still form on the ground before meeting his aids once again. He sighed heavily. "I don't know, Gil."
"Maybe I do," Conrad suddenly interrupted and stepped forward. Both men looked at him.
"What do you know, Conrad?" Grissom asked swiftly.
"Well," he began, "you know, maybe Warrick was involved all along."
Stepping forward Grissom glared at his co-worker. "What are you implying, Conrad?" he growled.
Taking a step back Conrad held up a finger, "Hold on…" he said shakily, "before you go at me, just think about it. We have had nothing but trouble with him since he got here. What if he was involved in starting the fire and taking the cattle…?"
Grissom lunged for his nemesis but the captain was quick to act and jumped in between the two men, taking a firm grasp on Grissom's upper arms. "Wait, Gil…" he pleaded, "…let him finish, alright?"
He glared at Conrad. Warrick's body was still fresh yet he was already accusing him of something he was certain he didn't do.
"Gil…." The captain now warned.
Attempting to fight off his anger the younger man nodded and the captain released him but stood close by.
"Continue, Conrad," the ranch owner instructed.
"Yes, sir," he said with a nod and continued. "Like I was saying, he could have been involved with all this destruction." He nodded back towards the stable. "The fire and…" He now held his arms out. "…The cattle. Why else is he out here? He knew what was happening and maybe he got into a fight with whoever he was working with or they didn't need him anymore now they had got what they wanted, so they killed him." He stopped for a moment and sighed heavily. "I know it's harsh, I do, but it could be a reality."
"I don't believe he did this, Conrad," Grissom shot back immediately. "Do you?" he asked, looking to his boss.
The lack of response from the captain made Grissom's heart sink. He really was considering the prospect that Warrick was involved. "Captain?" he pushed for an answer.
"I don't know, Gil, I'm sorry. I guess it's possible even if I don't want to believe it."
Grissom shook his head in disbelief and began walking away towards Dante who had trotted up behind the group and was nibbling at the grass.
"Where are you going?" the captain asked, following him with urgency.
"I'm not leaving him here like this, please just stay with him," he began. "I'll go and get a wagon and take him back to the house." He stopped and turned back to face the captain. "Then I will go and get the sheriff."
"I can send Conrad," the captain suggested.
Again Grissom glared at his co-worker. "No," he said firmly. "I'll go."
He grabbed Dante, launched himself aboard without another word and was speeding away before the captain could even offer an argument.
CSICSICSICSICSICISCSI
Grissom somberly trotted towards the house and ultimately the barn. His mind was in a total haze. He couldn't get the image of Warrick from his mind or block the sound of the screaming horses from his ears. No matter how hard he tried they kept on coming back.
As he passed by the house, he heard Sara calling his name. He stopped and turned to see her running from the house and towards him.
"Is everything alright?" she asked as she reached him but then her eyes fell to his blood stained hands and clothing. "Dear lord, are you hurt?" she gasped, suddenly grabbing his hands and inspecting them.
He tenderly pulled his hand away, knowing she shouldn't be touching him and shook his head. "No," he said softly.
"What happened? Where's father? Whose blood is that?" she rambled.
Bowing his head, Grissom worked his jaw from left to right then looked back to her. "Warrick is dead," he whispered.
Sara's eyes widened and her lips trembled. "W..w…what?" she stuttered.
Grissom simply nodded as Sara took a stumbled step backwards in shock. "Where…how?" she just about managed to ask.
Sighing heavily Grissom gripped Dante's reins tightly. "We found him in the cattle field. All the cattle are gone and he's been shot, murdered."
Sara was stunned and seemed to struggle to offer a reply.
Grissom pointed towards the direction of the barn. "I…need to get a wagon," he said solemnly.
"Let me come with you," she replied softly, stepping right up to him again. "I can help."
"No," he snapped.
His answer seemed to take her aback somewhat and her eyes glazed, showing the signs of tears. "Why?"
"I'm sorry," he apologized immediately. "I didn't mean to snap at you, I…just don't want you to see him like…that." He bowed his head. "You should…look after your mother, we will return shortly."
With that said, he lightly tapped Dante with his heels and pulled away. He didn't want to leave Sara there. She looked as lost and vulnerable as he felt and it pained him that he could not comfort her. Maybe they could find a moment later but he didn't know if it would be possible.
Right now he had to collect Warrick's body and his speed increased as he headed towards the barn to retrieve a wagon.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Dante didn't seem impressed at the fact he had to pull a wagon and even less happy he had to do it alone but his master managed to talk him into it, even if the horse only complied because he could hear his owners desperation.
So, the duo returned to the cattle field and the captain helped Grissom as he tenderly picked up Warrick's body and laid it in the wagon. The captain then removed his jacket and held it out to his friend.
Nodding slowly Grissom took the garment and gently laid it over Warrick's face and the upper part of his body, sighing sadly as he did so. He hadn't known the young man long but he had grown very fond of him and Grissom knew in his heart that Warrick was not involved in the estates sabotage.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
As they slowly returned, it seemed as though Sara had passed word of Warrick's death as everyone had gathered outside the house, looking saddened and defeated. Laura stood by her daughter, holding her hand over her mouth as she clearly tried to absorb that early morning's events.
Grissom was quick to unfasten Dante from the wagon and after ensuring Warrick's body would be looked after, he quickly boarded his horse and set off to town in search of the sheriff.
He just couldn't handle the questions he knew the estate people would be asking or the whispers or rumor and a sharp pain formed behind his right eye as he entered the town. A headache was coming and a bad one, from stress no doubt. He hadn't had one for a long time and they hurt, but he tried to push the pain away as he trotted down the main street.
Pulling up outside the sheriff's office, Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose. Fighting the throb in his head, he dismounted and tied Dante to the rail. The town was busy already, it was market day and the hustle and bustle of setting up had begun as a vibrant atmosphere settled around the area. Farmers were setting up their stalls, filling them with grain, fruits and vegetables while the traders ushered their live stock and horses through the street towards the sales area.
Narrowing his eyes he examined some of the cattle as it was urged past him. A tiny hope brewing at the back of his mind that maybe he would spot one of the captain's cows. Alas, he did not.
People glared at him as they walked by, some gave him a sympathetic look and several were quick to avert their gaze when it fell upon him.
Sighing heavily, he began up the steps to the office just as the door opened and Brass exited, slipping on his hat. The two men locked eyes and Brass frowned.
"Jesus, Gil…" the sheriff began. "You look like..." he paused looking his friend over, his pale features, his bloody clothes and hands, he stepped closer. "…what the hell happened? Why are you covered in blood?"
Looking down at his shirt, Grissom ran a hand over his forehead. In his haste to leave the estate he hadn't even thought about cleaning himself up. He looked back to Brass. "We've had some trouble," he said shakily.
"I know," the sheriff began. "I've been here but fifteen minutes and I've already had reports from four people saying they saw a fire blazing through the night." He pointed towards the direction of the estate. "They said when it was dark you could see it but you can't now. Better view from the hills apparently."
"But no one bothered to offer any assistance or inform you sooner?" Grissom questioned.
"Sadly people are eager to watch, Gil, but not quick to report it or get involved. Not their business, as a lot of them will say and with what has been happening lately, people are just too afraid to assist for fear of repercussion. They don't want to end up like Sam Braun."
Sighing once again Grissom looked over his shoulder as people continued to pass their eyes over him as they walked by.
"I was coming to you," Brass continued. "I was just waiting on something." The older man stepped forward and took Grissom's arm. "Come on, now you're here let me get you cleaned up and you can tell me what happened."
Grissom didn't argue and allowed himself to be pulled up the steps and into the office.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Grissom slowly removed his shirt as Brass returned with a bucket of water, a scrubbing brush and a towel. The sheriff placed the items on his desk and took the bloodied shirt from his friend, closely inspecting it.
"There's a lot of blood here, Gil," he began as Grissom dipped his hands into the water and began washing, taking the brush and doing his upmost to clean the blood from under his finger nails. "I gather whomever this belonged to is no longer with us?"
"You're right," Grissom returned on a sigh, scrubbing harder, gritting his teeth as he struggled to remove the red stains from his skin.
Brass worked his jaw, but seemed patient enough to halt his questioning until Grissom was ready. He walked to a small closet in the corner, opened it and took out a beige shirt. Moving back to the rancher, he held it out once he had dried himself off.
"Thanks," Grissom replied taking the shirt and slipping it on.
Sitting on the edge of his desk the sheriff folded his arms. "So, what happened?"
After roughly rubbing his chin, Grissom began to pace around the room, feeling the burn of anger once again settling in the pit of his stomach. "Someone attacked the estate," he began, continuing to pace while clenching his fists. "The stable is…gone, the workshop, too…burned…and the cattle, stolen and…" he took a deep breath and looked to the lawman, "Warrick is dead…someone…" His eyes glazed with tears. "…Murdered, Jim. Someone shot him."
The sheriff seemed a little stumped for words. His mouth opened but nothing came out for some time until a heavy, disgruntled sigh finally fell from his lips. He stood, approached Grissom and seemed to be about to offer a response when the door opened and he was interrupted.
Two men walked in and Grissom and Brass looked over to see who had entered. Grissom eyed the two men with suspicion, their faces were new to him and he was just distrustful of everyone right now. The fact that they both wore fire arms at their sides unnerved him all the more.
The first man was tall, reasonably skinny but muscular with rather rugged looking features. The second man was much shorter, much chunkier and appeared to be sweating rather badly.
"Morning, Sheriff," the shorter man began, removing his hat and wafting it through the air in an attempt to cool himself down. "Are we disturbing you? We can come back if we're too early."
Brass shook his head. "No…no, it's fine. I was waiting on you boys." He beckoned a finger to them, "Come on over here."
The two men nodded as Grissom returned his attention to his friend, a confused look highlighting his face.
"Gil," Brass began, "I would like you to meet deputies, Anthony Vartann…" The taller man held out his hand and Grissom shook it with a little uncertainty, "…and Raymond O'Reilly." Now the shorter man held out his hand and Grissom shook that one too as Brass continued. "The governor has been kind enough to send me a little assistance considering all the trouble about town lately."
"Oh…I see," Grissom responded, still unsure of what to make of the two newcomers. "Nice to meet you, I guess." Looking back to Brass he leaned closer to his friend. "Can we finish what we were discussing in private?" he whispered.
Brass half smiled and slipped his mouth to Grissom's ear. "You can trust these boys, Gil, I can vouch for them."
Frowning, Grissom looked back to the two men and hesitated.
"Do you trust me?" the sheriff asked.
After just a moment's thought Grissom nodded, "Then trust my judgment, will you, Gil? I give you my word they are here to help and they will."
He was still unsure but Grissom knew he couldn't handle this alone, even if he wanted to. "Fine," he grumbled and folded his arms.
"Good." The sheriff smiled and gestured to his desk and chairs. "Sit down, all of you. We have a lot to discuss and many things to sort out."
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Back at the estate everything was quiet, apart from the crackle of the fire which continued to smolder. The captain had offered food to his workers, although not many of them actually had the stomach to consume anything. He then sent them on their way, to their accommodation or wherever they wished to go until the sheriff got there.
Some went for a walk to get away, some washed and returned to their rooms, others simply sat and watched as the fire died away. There wasn't anything else they could do.
Warrick's body had been moved to the barn. The captain knew the sun would show no mercy and even though the barn was still warm, it would offer some shelter to the poor man's corpse.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
After a wash and a change of clothes, Sara settled in her room. She was currently looking through the window awaiting Grissom's return. She needed him so badly, to feel his warmth, his comfort. Although she was relieved her father had yet to press the issue of why she and Grissom were out together in the middle of the night, she found a tiny temptation deep within her to ask Grissom to tell her father about them, well, about the fact they desired to be together. Just get it out in the open so they could offer each other the support they both truly needed. But, deep down, she knew he had enough on his mind right now, so she probably would not ask him to reveal their secret, just yet.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
The captain paced around the veranda with his hands firmly locked behind his back. His wife stood a few feet away, watching as he took out his frustrations on the flooring.
Finally, she found the courage to speak. "How are we going to recover from this, Thomas?" she asked softly.
He stopped and turned to face her. "We will find a way."
Stepping right up to him she took his hand, gripping it tightly within hers. "How? Do we have enough money to be able to?"
Looking deep into her eyes he raised his hand to her face and ran his thumb softly over her cheek bone. "I will find a way…there has to be a way…" he sighed.
"There is," she confirmed for him and he frowned. "What about the colonels offer? He still wants to buy…"
"No!" Suddenly the captain pulled his hand free and stepped back holding up a firm finger. "Not that! Never! I would rather die fighting for my home." He clenched his fists tightly. "I will not sell out to him. Do you not understand?"
She kept her eyes locked with his as she again walked up close. "Yes, I understand, Thomas but, what other options do we have? If we don't find out who did this, how will we survive?" She cupped his face in her hands in an attempt to calm him. "How?" she repeated tenderly.
He bowed his head, unable to keep his eyes locked with his wife's. "I will find a way…" he whispered.
Laura sighed but did not argue with him. She simply wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
As the ranch owner and his wife comforted each other, neither of them had any idea they were being watched. He had heard everything they had said from his hiding place behind the trees below the veranda decking and felt highly disheartened at the captain's statement. The stubborn fool still refused to sell, even after all that had happened.
He knew he had to report his findings and knew time was against him. Once the sheriff got there he would want to question everyone and if he wasn't around, questions would be asked of him as to his whereabouts.
So, he carefully snuck out of his hiding place and headed through the garden and out of the estate. One destination on his mind as he ran as quickly as he could; McKeen's…
A/N: Hmmm, don't think the old colonel is going to be happy when he hears the news. Maybe I can borrow his hat and have two, lol. Thanks for all the reviews please keep them coming :)