A/N: Okay, I actually didn't plan on posting this soon but I had a very nice request to do so and I caved in :) So, I'm posting early. Let's call it a story anniversary special! Plus, I may not be able to post again this week but we will see.

All my love and thanks to SSC, as she still, with all her own troubles, finds the time to be my friend and an amazing beta, helping my story become better and better and yes, it really wouldn't be what it is without you. I mean that! Mwah!

Enjoy.

Chapter 60

Brass hovered outside of Michael's cell as the young man began to stir. The worker sat up and rubbed his eyes. He then caught sight of the sheriff and immediately shot to his feet.

"Have a good sleep?" Brass asked with a smile as Michael stepped towards him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Michael nodded. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"Good. You have a long journey ahead, so I'm glad you got some rest."

Michael frowned deeply. "Um…journey?"

Crooking his finger, Brass beckoned Michael from the cell. "Come and I will explain."

Following Brass to his desk, Michael nervously tapped the back of one of the chairs as Brass sat and rummaged through a drawer.

"I found Pritchard," the sheriff informed the worker.

Michael's eyes widened. "You did? Did…did he tell I…I don't know him? That I had nothing to do with…" he stuttered.

Brass looked up, "Not exactly."

The younger man's shoulders slumped as his face once again showed signs of defeat.

"He couldn't tell me anything because he is dead," Brass finished as he located what he was looking for in his drawer, a small leather pouch.

"D..d..de..Dead?"

"A ha…" Brass placed the pouch onto the desk and untied the string which fastened the top.

Michael sat in the chair and pulled it right up to the desk. "So…what does that mean? What is going to happen to me?"

"You…are leaving. I know you didn't do anything."

Leaping forward, Michael's fingers gripped the sides of the desk. "Really?" he gasped.

The sheriff smiled. "Really," he confirmed. "But…you can't stay here." He pulled a one dollar bill from the pouch and slid it across the table. Michael looked at it and then back to the sheriff. He shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Until the real killer is caught, you won't be safe here. You could still be used as a scapegoat. People have ways and means of making things happen that…shouldn't and I don't always have the power to override them. Dead men can't defend themselves, Michael."

"But…" Michael stood and ran a shaky hand through his hair, "…where will I go, what will I do? I don't…know anyone outside of town and I have no money…I…"

"Don't worry." Brass stood holding his hands out to calm him. "Someone is ready to take you in. I will give you a horse and some cash…" He nodded down to the bill, "…and you will go to him, right now. He will look after you best he can. I will escort you out of town, just to make sure you are safe."

"But who is helping me?"

Brass smiled. "Grissom…"

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After spending some time watching over her daughter, Laura finally left Sara's side, confident she was in a deep sleep. Quietly, she went downstairs. She entered the lounge to see her husband sitting in his chair by the fireplace, glass of brandy in one hand and a cigar in the other.

Upon noticing her entry, the captain extinguished his cigar in the ashtray and sat forward as she approached him. "Is everything alright?" he asked, noticing she didn't look particularly happy.

With a gentle sigh, Laura sat beside him. "Sara isn't well. I have put her to bed and she is sleeping but I'm very concerned about her."

The captain scratched the top of his head. "Is she ill?" His voice betrayed the concern that he obviously felt.

"I'm not sure. She has a slight fever and she has vomited but it may just be stress. I know for a fact she is exhausted, you can see it on her face and she hasn't been eating either."

"Maybe I should send for the doctor," he said, taking a small sip from his beverage.

Laura shook her head. "I don't think that's necessary, not just yet anyway. In all honesty, Thomas…" She took his hand, "…she needs a good night's sleep and a little peace and quiet, a break from all this wedding business. It's too much too soon for her, she can't handle it all being thrown at her this quickly."

The Captain afforded his wife a knowing smile. "Well, I always thought that planning a wedding is supposed to be a happy event in a woman's life. I don't remember you being so….overwhelmed when we were planning our wedding."

Laura returned his smile, her mind drifting back to those days so long ago. "I wasn't. Those were some of the happiest days of my life."

He sipped his brandy again. "And our daughter doesn't share our sentiments of those happy times?"

"Maybe our daughter doesn't feel the same as we did," Laura suggested softly.

The Captain's eye's narrowed. "Has she said something to you?"

She shook her head. "No, Thomas. But something's clearly not right. She hasn't been the same since the engagement or maybe it's Grissom's departure. They were great friends, you realize. Before, we couldn't keep Sara in the house. She was dressed at sunrise and we would be lucky to see her again before supper time. Now, she barely speaks….not even to Gregory…and other than the funeral of Sam Braun…she hasn't left the house. Perhaps Sara is just overwhelmed by everything but I think we need to dig a little deeper."

"What do you suggest?"

She smiled again. "Well…I think that maybe I should take her away for a few days. She can relax, get her thoughts straight and regain some well needed energy. I think…she really needs this, Thomas. She needs a little time out after everything that has happened or I fear..." She hesitated and swallowed heavily, "…her health will continue to decline."

The captain looked deep in thought, swirling the brandy around in his glass. "I guess, it could be a good idea but it will slow down the wedding plans…"

Laura tightened her grip on his hand and he looked at her. "Thomas, please…"

He sighed. "I'll…think about it but you're probably right. Just give me until the morning, can you do that?"

She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the cheek.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"Because I know you will make the right decision."

He smiled but a knock at the door broke their moment…

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Grissom rode into town before darkness began to fall. He hadn't done much around his place during the day and just left Hodges to it. He simply couldn't find the care nor the motivation.

Hodges had been nagging at him to check on one of the fillies. She was due to give birth in the next week or so and he wasn't entirely sure how to prepare for it. He'd never been responsible for the birth of a foal before. But, Grissom just brushed him off and said he'd sort it out.

He'd finished off the last of his bourbon, so he now headed towards the store in order to replenish his stock.

He didn't dally in the store as he was by no means in the mood for any form of chit chat. He purchased two bottles of bourbon and left quickly but as he clonked down the steps towards Dante, he heard his name being called.

Looking around, he sighed when he saw Teri rushing towards him, basket of supplies in her hand and a smile on her face.

"Gilbert Grissom…" she began, "…first I hear you leave town, again…" Her brow rose in a suggestive manner, "…and without saying goodbye, now, I see you are back…what on earth is going on with you?"

Faking a smile, Grissom slipped his bottles into his saddle pouch. "A lot has happened, Teri, but it is over and done with. I'm back and I'm back to stay. That's all that needs to be said." He turned to face her and he could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't going to be happy with such a simple explanation.

She slowly looked him over before taking a step closer. Then as she seemed to inhale a deep breath, she stepped back again. "You look like hell, Gil, and my…" Her nostrils flared, "…have you been taking part in a drinking contest or something? You smell like a brewery."

"Thank you for the compliment," he shot back with a sigh.

"Now don't be like that, Gil," she said, switching her basket to the other arm. "You're problem is, you never talk to anyone." She reached a hand forward and placed it on his arm.

He jumped, not expecting the gesture.

"It doesn't take long for news to travel from town to town you know? And I can assume you are deeply hurting because of what has happened back at…"

"I have to go…" He stopped her in mid sentence, pulling away from her attempt at comfort. He really didn't need this right now. With speed, he pulled himself up onto Dante. "Apologies if I seem rude, Teri, but, I just can't talk about this right now."

She grabbed Dante's reins before he had chance to pull away and looked up at him. "I will come by tomorrow then and we can talk."

"That really isn't necessary," he sighed.

She smiled. "I insist and you won't talk me out of this."

"Fine," he said on huff.

Teri released Dante's reins. "See you tomorrow," she said.

He nodded, pulled Dante back and disappeared down the main street without another word.

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Rana walked into the lounge as Thomas and Laura looked over to see who had disturbed them.

"Captain, sir, the sheriff is here to see you," the housekeeper informed them.

The captain and his wife stood, exchanging an uncertain glance. "Oh…show him in."

"Yes, sir."

Rana disappeared.

"Why would the sheriff be here so late?" Laura asked.

The captain shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea but I guess we are about to find out."

Rana reappeared quickly, Brass following.

"Good evening, Sheriff," the captain said as he approached the lawman.

Brass nodded. "Captain," he acknowledged, "Laura…"

Laura smiled. "Jim…"

"Rana, would you bring some tea, please?" the ranch owner asked. "Or would you prefer something a little stronger, Jim?"

"It's been a long day, let's go for brandy," Brass returned.

The captain chuckled, "Sure thing. That will be all, Rana," he excused the housekeeper as he headed towards the corner bar.

Grabbing the crystal decanter of brandy, the captain began pouring, topping up his own glass also. "My dear, would you like a drink?" he asked, looking to his wife.

"No, thank you, Thomas. I'd rather be alert just in case Sara needs anything," Laura replied, sitting back down.

The captain nodded and stepped from behind the bar. He handed a glass of brandy to the sheriff. "So, to what do we owe this pleasure?" he then asked.

Brass took a quick swig and then looked down into his glass. He exhaled a heavy breath before returning his attention to the captain. "You..um…might want to sit down."

Frowning deeply, the captain snorted. "Why? Is it that bad?"

"Depends how you look at it, I guess."

"I'm sure I'll be fine, Jim," the captain reassured. "Say whatever it is you have to say."

Taking another large gulp from his glass Brass nodded. "Alright…I…thought you should know that…I have released Michael."

The second the sheriff had finished his sentence Laura felt her heart catch in her throat but she didn't have much time to think as her husband's voice bellowed a response.

"You what?" he shouted, turning and slamming his glass down on the bar.

After placing his glass on the coffee table, Brass held out his hands. Laura slowly stood as the captain advanced on the lawman.

"Calm down, Captain," Brass advised. "Let me explain."

The captain stopped and glared at him. "Calm down?" he said shaking his head. "You release the man who destroys my home and you expect me to calm down?"

"He didn't do it, Captain," Brass continued, keeping his voice calm and collected.

"What do you mean he didn't do it? You have proof that he did, don't you?" The ranch owner snapped, most certainly unimpressed.

Laura rushed in between her husband and the sheriff and placed gentle hands on the captain's upper arms. "Thomas, please…" she begged, "…calm down. Let's just listen to what Jim has to say before we start getting angry. Please, for me?"

With a heavy sigh, the captain thought but eventually nodded. "Alright…"

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Laura guided her husband to the sofa and they sat. She took his hand and held it tightly as the sheriff remained standing and rubbed his eyes.

"So what on earth is going on?" Captain Sidle demanded. He scratched his forehead with his free hand. "I'm stunned this issue can not be laid to rest."

Brass folded his arms. "It can't be because Michael is innocent."

The captain huffed, as if he didn't believe what the sheriff was saying and Laura tightened her grip on his hand. "You sound like Gil," the ranch owner mumbled.

"Well…" Brass nipped the inside of his lip, "…Gil was right…"

Closing her eyes for a brief moment, Laura attempted to control her emotions and keep her patience with her husband.

The captain slipped his hand free from his wife's and stood. He walked to the window and looked out onto the garden. Laura watched him with concern. "How was he right?" he moaned. "What about all the evidence?"

"The evidence is false."

Snapping his body around, the captain locked eyes with the sheriff. "What do you mean, it's false?"

"As Gil said," Brass began, "It all seemed too easy, too coincidental and he was right. The boots, with the missing spur, do not fit Michael; they are one size too small. The letters do not match his hand writing and…I have found Pritchard."

With his eyes widening, the captain stepped away from the window. "Really? You found him?"

Brass nodded.

"So…surely he can…"

Interrupting, the sheriff now quickly shook his head. "He's dead."

Laura held her hand to her mouth in shock and looked to her husband. He looked as equally stunned.

Brass continued. "So, the whole idea that Michael and Pritchard did this together is nonsense. It's impossible because the night of the fire and Warrick's murder, Pritchard was drunk and being entertained by some of McKeen's boys. And Michael could not have killed Pritchard if you even consider that option because he was here, you know that."

Slowly, the captain unsteadily walked back to the couch and retook his place next to his wife. "I…" he paused, his mouth open but nothing seemed to come out.

The sheriff rushed back to the coffee table and grabbed the captain's drink. Moving back to the sofa he held it out to the captain. "Take this; it looks like you need it."

Nodding his thanks, the ranch owner took the brandy and consumed it quickly. "You…mentioned McKeen's boys?" he finally asked.

Brass sat in the chair opposite the sofa and leaned forward, entwining his fingers between his knees. "Yes…I…" he hesitated, quickly checking over his shoulder "…think you should be very careful in regards to your new business partner."

The captain and his wife exchanged a quick glance. "What do you mean? You think Jeffery is involved in his? Surely that can't be…"

"Just think about the facts, Captain, and whether you want to or not, what Gil said and what he continued to say... He always suspected McKeen was involved and now we have a direct link to him and the man who apparently created havoc on your estate."

"This is preposterous!" The captain seemed to snap from his shock and leapt to his feet. Both Brass and Laura looked to him in surprise. "Jeffery is trying to help me!"

Slowly rising from his chair Brass adapted a defensive posture but remained calm. "Is he?" he questioned. "Don't you find it all a little too generous all of a sudden? Now I have known the colonel for years, Captain. And, I know that generosity is not one of his virtues. McKeen and that entire clan never do something for nothing. Why he's helping you? I don't know…..but it isn't out of the goodness of his heart and the prosperity of the Grove."

Laura remained silent and let the two men continue. She knew interrupting at this point would do no good, no matter her thoughts. She would have her moment…when the time was right.

"Bah!" The ranch owner flapped his hand and stormed back to the bar, quickly refilling his glass.

The sheriff approached the bar but kept some distance. "Look, Captain…I can only tell you what I know and one thing I do know is you need to open your eyes. Think…" He held up one finger… "One…the colonel all of a sudden is very helpful…" He held up a second finger, "…Two…you have had no issues since the colonel began helping you…" he held up a third finger, "…Three…Michael was set up and the colonel is tied to that set up…" he held up a fourth finger, "…Four…how can the colonel know that Gil had been beaten up unless he was involved?"

After emptying the contents of his glass, the captain dropped it onto the counter. "Gil was beaten up?"

Snorting, the sheriff offered a glance to Laura who sat rigid on the end of the sofa before returning his attention to the land ranch owner. "You actually think he fell from his horse?"

"Well…I…" the older man stuttered, "…he didn't tell anyone he had been attacked."

Brass smiled knowingly. "Exactly…he didn't. But the colonel knew…Although, I'm sure when he mentioned it to me, he didn't mean to let it slip."

Exhaling a frustrated sigh, the captain clenched his eyes closed.

Laura finally pushed herself from the sofa and moved to stand by Brass. They looked at each other with concern and she gave his arm a quick, reassuring squeeze. She was about to approach her husband when Rana suddenly burst through the door and the three occupants of the room startled, looking in her direction.

"Sir…Ma'am…" she gasped, "…I'm very sorry to disturb you but…I can hear shouting and it's coming from Miss Sara's room…"

A/N: Ugh uh…Looks like the cat is out of the bag. Well, one of them anyway, lol. How is the Cap going to react to that news once it really sinks in and he pulls his head out of his ass? If he pulls his head out of his ass. And what's happening in Sara's room? Mwahahahahaha. Thanks for the reviews , love em! Always. The more the merrier and they can speed up my posting schedule, heeheheh.