A/N. Sorry for the delay in posting guys, I haven't been at my best lately and my writing is seriously suffering for it. The motivation seems to have gone on a very long holiday. Thank you to mingsmommy and special thanks to SweetSouthernComfort. SSC even though you have enough of your own to contend with you are always there for me and I am beyond grateful for your support and encouragement with my writing. Thanks to everyone for the reviews, I do love them so please keep them coming. So, on with the show…

Chapter 48

Grissom and Brass entered the barn and walked to the wagon which had been placed by the far wall.

Sighing, Grissom shooed off the flies which had gathered around the body and looked to his friend. Brass nodded and took a hold of the jacket which covered Warrick's form.

The smell of death instantly hit the air as Brass removed the jacket and both men took a small step backwards. Both fell silent for a moment as they both glanced over the young man's face.

"He had everything to live for, Jim," Grissom finally said, his voice soft but gravely. "If I hadn't brought him here, he would still be alive."

The sheriff looked at him. "This isn't your fault, Gil. So, don't you dare go blaming yourself."

"Maybe."

"Maybe nothing," Brass continued as he reached careful fingers to pull down Warrick's collar. He stared at the wound, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to get a better view. "You didn't shoot him did you?" He turned his head to look at the rancher.

"No," Grissom replied, "but…"

"But nothing, Gil." The sheriff returned his attention to the wound. "You're not to blame, so accept it."

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Grissom kicked the dusty floor beneath his feet and sighed.

"Take a look at this," Brass said, cocking his head and Grissom stepped up beside him.

"What?"

Pointing to the hole in Warrick's throat the sheriff circled his finger around it. "By the looks of this and the size of the wound, he was shot at close range, right?"

"I guess so," Grissom responded. True enough; a gunshot wound received from distance would more than likely leave a smaller hole.

"So, if he was shot close up, which I am thinking he was, then why am I not seeing any powder or burns or marks?"

The two men exchanged a quizzical glance.

"I don't know," Grissom admitted.

"Hmmmm…." Brass worked his jaw, obviously in thought. He checked over Warrick's body, searching his clothes and his torso for any other injuries.

"Anything?" Grissom asked.

"Apart from bruised knuckles and a knock on his left cheek, no." The sheriff straightened and stepped away. "I'd say he put up a bit of a fight."

Grissom half smiled, he had the feeling Warrick was a fighter. "Well, maybe he got a piece of his killer."

Brass replaced the jacket over Warrick's upper half and raised his brow. "Let's hope so."

"Can I…" Grissom pointed to the body "…Get him put to rest now?"

"Whenever you want," the older man replied.

After offering a nod, the two men walked from the barn. The smoke from the rubble was still rising in the distance and they headed towards it. As they reached what was left of the main stable, they spotted Vartann kneeling and looking into the smoke.

"Find anything?" the sheriff shouted as they approached him.

The young deputy pushed himself up and approached his boss. "Not here," he responded. "But I did back at the cattle field."

"Oh?" Grissom stepped forward eagerly. "What did you find?"

"Come…" He gestured a keen hand for them to follow him, "…I left them at the house with O'Reilly."

Both Grissom and Brass followed the deputy quickly and they headed back to the house.

CSICSICSISICSICSICSI

When they got back to the house the crowd of workers which had gathered there earlier had now gone but there were two horses tied to a tree just past the steps. Grissom wondered who they belonged to but returned his thoughts to the estate's people.

"That was fast," Grissom said to Brass as they climbed the steps to the house. "Does in depth questioning usually happen so quickly?"

"Let's find out," Brass responded as they passed through the main door.

As they walked towards the study, Grissom stopped when his eyes passed over the stairs and Sara sitting upon the fifth step. "Hold on," he said to Brass and walked towards the stairs.

"Sara?"

She seemed lost in thought until his voice penetrated the air and slowly her eyes came to meet his.

"I thought you were supposed to be resting?" the rancher continued as he climbed the first step.

She shrugged and entwined her fingers as they sat in her lap. "I couldn't sleep," she sighed. "Then I saw the colonel arrive."

Grissom looked shocked. "McKeen is here?" he asked, stunned, now realizing who the horses belonged to.

She nodded. "I saw him through my window. He's with Father out on the veranda."

Exhaling a hot breath of air, Grissom turned to Brass, who had stepped closer after hearing Sara's statement.

"Why…" Grissom stopped and tried to think. All his suspicions were directly aimed at the colonel, he didn't understand his appearance. "Why on earth is he here?"

"Maybe he has nothing to hide," Brass said quickly.

Grissom just gave him a look that clearly stated, Oh you just didn't say that..

"I have to remain open minded, Gil," the sheriff continued. "I need evidence before I can start making accusations."

Looking back to Sara, Grissom held out his hand. She took it without hesitation and he pulled her up.

"You can't stay here," he said softly as he released her hand. "You really should try and get some sleep."

"Can't sleep…" she mumbled.

Sighing heavily, Grissom tried to think of an option. Her father was busy, he, was still trying to help Brass, what should he do? "Where's your mother?" he asked.

"She's outside with my father. Can't I just come with you? I really don't want to be alone." Her request was soft and gentle and Grissom wasn't quite sure if he could say no. He looked to Brass.

"Its fine," the sheriff began, reversing back down the stairs. "You can go if you want, Gil, I can take it from here."

"I…" Grissom began, taking Sara's arm and leading her down the stairs, "…still want to see what Vartann found, if that's alright?"

"Sure," Brass replied. "Let's go."

Sara whispered, "Thank you," to Grissom as the group of four approached the study and the rancher's lips formed a gentle smile. He was about to reach for the door but it opened and O'Reilly appeared, followed by Robert.

"Thank you, young man," the deputy said.

Robert nodded his head and quickly stepped aside before scuttling off down the corridor.

"He's the last one," O'Reilly informed Brass as he stepped back inside the study and the group followed.

"You've spoken to everyone?" the sheriff asked, his question holding a hint of surprise.

"Yes, well…" O'Reilly leaned against the desk and picked up a pile of notes, "…everyone apart from the Captain and Mrs Sidle. They're busy, so I didn't disturb them." He handed the paper to his boss and Grissom stepped forward, passing his eyes over the notes as Brass flicked through them.

"It happened so fast because everyone's story is the same, Sheriff," the deputy sighed. "They were all awakened and tried to fight the fire. No one saw or heard anything that could help us. Well, at least they are not saying they did."

Brass passed the notes back to O'Reilly. "Do you have any suspicions anyone is lying?" he asked.

O'Reilly shook his head. "Not really, they all seem pretty sincere and most of them are still pretty shaken up about it. So, apart from Ecklie, who mentioned his personal suspicions in regards to the blacksmith, as you heard, there's nothing else to go on really. Oh, and no one saw Warrick leave his quarters either."

"I knew it," Grissom spat, clenching his fists. "He has no right to accuse Warrick, no right at all."

Sara slipped a comforting arm through his and tugged softly. A gesture no doubt to get him to calm down and he gritted his teeth. Bowing his head, he stepped away and looked through the window and out onto the garden.

"He has no right, Jim," he repeated, turning back to the group.

The sheriff worked his tongue into his left cheek. "Well, you let me worry about that. I have to explore every angle in this."

"So, what about McKeen then?" Grissom countered knowing his friend had previously stated he wasn't listening to accusations.

"Oh, believe me; we will be having a chat. I won't be flinging allegations but I may have to investigate him," the sheriff retorted. "I'm trying to stay professional, Gil, but believe it or not, I do pay attention."

Grissom nodded.

"Right…" Brass looked to Vartann, "…Tell us what you found so this young lady…" he flicked his eyes to Sara, "…Can be escorted on her way."

Sara smiled softly as Grissom walked from the window to rejoin her.

Nodding quickly, Vartann hurried to the corner of the room. Whatever he sought was placed on a chair and he held the items up as he walked back to the onlookers. "This, I found in the bushes, about twenty feet away from the blood pool where I'm presuming Warrick was found." He handed it to Brass who closely inspected it and Grissom watched.

It was a saddle bag. It had a running hole through the center and it was covered in blood. Brass frowned as he opened the pouch and peeked inside. Dipping careful fingers into the bag he pulled out what looked like a bed roll. He handed the bag to Grissom as he carefully unraveled the blanket and all occupants of the room stared at it as the sheriff laid it out on the floor before them.

It, too, had blood stains on it and a jagged hole on the right hand side.

Bending down, Brass looked at the hole in the blanket and then the puncture in the saddle bag. "Looks like a bullet hole," he suggested. "Straight through the bag, then the blanket, then…"

"Warrick," Grissom finished for him.

As the sheriff nodded his agreement and pushed himself to his feet, Sara held her hand over her mouth and turned away.

Grissom bit down heavily on his tongue; she should not be witnessing this. He walked up behind her and took her arm. "Come on, Sara, I think you should wait outside, just for a moment. We won't be long now."

He half expected her to fight him on the suggestion but she actually didn't and allowed herself to be lead back out into the hallway. "Sit down," he requested, pointing to a wicker chair just off to the right by the door to the library.

She nodded and slowly walked to the chair. Slipping into it, she closed her eyes and hugged her arms around her body.

Feeling his gut turn at her obvious distress, Grissom sighed. "I'll be back for you shortly," he said tenderly.

Sara simply nodded but kept her eyes closed, causing Grissom to sigh again. He turned and quickly returned to the study, eager to hurry up and get back to the woman who needed him or at least offer her some form of company.

When he entered the room Brass and O'Reilly were looking at another item Vartann was holding up.

"What's that?" Grissom asked stepping up close to the group of men.

Brass took the small, sharp, silver object between his fingers. "It's a spur," Brass answered. "Anthony found it a little was past the cattle field on the driveway."

"May I see it?" Grissom was already holding his hand out before he had even asked the question.

Leaning forward Brass handed the spur to Grissom who held it between finger and thumb and looked at it with investigative eyes. "Maybe one of our thieves left this behind?" he mumbled and then his eyes sparkled as he flicked the jagged disc around and caught sight of a blob of something red in the mechanism. "Or even the murderer," he continued more confidently, handing the spur back to Brass. "It's got blood on it," he then finished.

The sheriff's eyes narrowed as he looked at the object more closely. "Yeah, you're right," he confirmed.

"So, whoever you are looking for is missing a spur from his boot," Grissom deduced. "As long as they haven't noticed they've lost it."

Offering half a snort, Brass handed the spur back to his deputy. "Ah, if only we could check every boot in existence, this would all be solved."

Grissom glared at him.

"Sorry," the older man came back with. "But still, it's like a needle in a haystack."

"Better than nothing," the rancher countered, looking back to the blanket. "I think the saddle bag was used to cover Warrick's face when he was shot, maybe to shut him up or conceal the sound of the gun firing."

"I agree." The sheriff bent and picked up the blanket. "I'll have a better look at these when I get back into town and then try and figure out what the hell happened last night," he said passing the items to Vartann. "And for now…" Brass looked at Grissom, "…you need to try and get some rest yourself. There is nothing else you can do right now."

"I can't rest, Jim," he responded swiftly but with a hint of frustration.

"Then take Sara for a walk or something as she also seems to be struggling to relax. But, you can't hang around here all day. Take a break and come back later when things have settled down." Brass stepped up to his friend and slipped a reassuring arm over his shoulder. "Let me do my job, Gil, Please. Trust me?"

With his shoulders slumping, Grissom nodded. "Fine," he mumbled.

"Come on," Brass urged Grissom towards the door. "I'll walk you out; I could use a little air anyway."

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

Grissom exited the study and looked to Sara. She still had her eyes closed and now her head leaned back against the wall behind her. She must have heard him though, because her eyes popped open the second he approached her.

"Still don't feel like resting?" he asked softly.

She slowly shook her head in reply.

"Would you like to take a walk and get some air?"

Pushing herself from the seat she looked over Grissom's shoulder and to Brass who was waiting by the study door. "Are you not needed here?" she enquired, returning her gaze to him.

"I've been told to go away and take a break. Nothing more I can do right now."

"Did you find anything?" she asked. "I saw the blanket but…"

He stopped her. "Come on," he responded kinking his head towards Brass and holding out his arm. The gesture, was one of simple support and he was prepared for anyone who may question his motives. "I'll tell you as we walk."

She smiled as she slipped her arm into his and they walked past the sheriff who followed them outside.

As they strolled down the front steps, the trio stopped at the bottom when they suddenly heard shouting. Grissom released Sara's arm and looked around, Brass and Sara quickly followed suit.

"Just get off my property, Jeffery, you have my answer!" the captain's voice bellowed and within a matter of seconds the colonel cornered the side of the house with Jared James hurrying behind.

Feeling his eyes narrowing, Grissom glared at the two men as they approached.

McKeen grinned as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his riding gloves. "Good morning, gentlemen," he began. "Sara." He nodded in acknowledgment to the heiress.

"What's going on?" Grissom questioned bitterly, his eyes running over Jared and he was soon to spot that the ex Braun employee had a black eye. He returned his glance to the colonel and awaited an answer.

Sniggering, McKeen reached for his horse's reins. "That has nothing to do with you, young man. I suggest you refrain from intruding yourself upon my business."

Brass stepped forward before the ranch owner had untied his animal. "How about if I intrude?" the sheriff asked confidently.

Sighing heavily, McKeen dropped the reins and his nose flared in annoyance.

Sara tugged on Grissom's arm and he lowered his head in order to hear her as she whispered in his ear, "I'm going to make sure my parents are alright."

He nodded and Sara quickly excused herself, disappearing in the direction McKeen had arrived.

Once Sara had departed Grissom stepped forward, closer to Jared and carefully studied his blackened eye. "That's a nice bruise," he commented. "How did you get it?"

Jared looked to McKeen who shook his head and cleared his throat. "You have no right to question my employee."

With a half laugh, Grissom stepped back "Your employee? Boy, it didn't take you long did it, Jared? How long has Sam been in the ground?"

Jared squirmed as his new employer folded his arms, not taking his eyes from Grissom for a second. "He required employment and I gave him a job. Is there a problem with that?"

"Depends what he did for you before he got the job," Grissom countered.

"I won't stand for that, sheriff," McKeen growled, his posture tensing as if he was ready to square off against the young rancher.

"Alright, enough," Brass stepped in between the three men. "Gil…" he warned, "…back off, now."

Grissom didn't answer but took several more steps backwards.

"You are right, Colonel, Gil doesn't have any right to question you but I do," the sheriff continued.

"Fine," McKeen grumbled. "Come by my place and I will answer whatever you wish."

"I will, but for now I just have two questions which I am sure you will be able to answer for me, considering you have nothing to hide, right?"

The colonel gritted his teeth. "Get on with it," he demanded.

Brass pointed to Jared. "So, how did you get the black eye?"

"He got kicked in the face by my mustang, alright? He can be rather temperamental," the colonel said quickly.

"Can he not answer for himself?" Grissom cut in.

"Gil!" Brass snapped. "Let me deal with this."

"I suggest you listen to your friend, Grissom," the colonel advised.

"Or what?" Now, Grissom stepped forward with a purpose, sensing a hint of threat in McKeen's words.

"That's it." Brass grabbed a hold of Grissom and yanked him away before pushing him in the back. "Get over there right now and stay there!"

Grissom didn't argue even though he wanted to. As he walked away, he kicked a stone on the ground and it hit the side of the house with a crack.

The colonel grinned. "I suggest you put a leash on him, Sheriff, or he is going to get himself in a whole load of trouble."

"He's upset and very angry, Colonel."

"Still." He slipped his gloves on. "He should watch who he speaks to in such a disrespectful way. There is no excuse for bad manners."

"And…" He nodded to Jared and then to the horses and the young man quickly moved to the animals and untied them. "…He needs to be very, very careful about throwing around accusations because…"

Brass held up his hands, "I will stop you there before threats are made and we don't want to go there, do we?"

Snorting through his nose the colonel didn't answer and reached out to take his horse's reins as Jared held them out.

"Just one more thing before you go, Colonel," Brass said as the ranch owner was about to pull himself aboard.

"Fine," he sighed. "But make it quick, I have things to do. But feel free to come to the estate later."

"I'll do that."

"So…" McKeen urged, "What is this, one more thing?"

"Where were you between the hours of 1am and 6am this morning?" The sheriff was right to the point.

"Ha!" McKeen laughed. "Are you kidding me?"

Brass kept a straight face. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Sadly, not," McKeen retorted. "But like any other normal human being I was in bed, asleep."

Brass nodded. "Can anyone verify that?"

"My wife is in Washington and has been for some time. So, no, I was alone." His eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting I had something to do with what happened here?"

"I'm not suggesting anything."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"But I would like to speak to your men when I come by," Brass continued.

Now McKeen didn't look impressed. "Why?" he demanded on growl.

"Because it's my job."

The sheriff's simple reply seemed to annoy McKeen further and he jumped quickly upon his mustang with an aggravated huff. "You, too, had better be careful, Sheriff, or you may not have that job much longer. I have powerful friends; so, watch your step." As his horse began to move, the colonel nodded to Grissom. "And you better keep him away from me or I swear you will regret that you didn't."

Brass couldn't reply to what he had deduced was a threat because the colonel quickly spurred his horse and was away down the driveway before he even had the opportunity. Jared quickly leapt upon his own horse and followed with haste, leaving a wake of dust in the air. The sheriff did, however, manage to catch a look at both men's boots and neither set of footwear was missing a spur.

Sighing heavily, Brass watched as the two men vanished from sight and then felt Grissom as he approached behind him.

"You are going to get yourself in trouble again, Gil, if you're not careful," the sheriff warned.

"I'm not afraid of him," Grissom replied.

"Well, maybe you should be." Brass worked his jaw. "It may keep you alive."

A/N. Worth the wait? Please let me know what you think. Oh and I think I just found my hat again, mwahaha.