Snapshots in Time
Chapter One: The Body in the Bush
It truly was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, the air was warm and not too humid, not too hot, and the breeze was light. It was no surprise that nearly all the picnic tables at the King's Park West local park were occupied by buzzing, happy upper-middle class Virginian families. Gerald and his family, including their German Sheppard, Tucker, had decided to make the short trek from their Gainsborough Drive home out to the park. Now he sat back at the picnic table with his wife Janet, and the older of his two sons, Colby. He and Janet conversed comfortably while Colby sat, curled in on himself at the end of the table, eyes completely focused on the screen of his PS3. Their younger boy, Jackson, was playing fetch with Tucker not far from them.
"Geeze, Cole, would you put that thing down for two seconds and enjoy yourself?" Gerald asked his teenage son, annoyed.
Colby muttered something, probably something Gerald didn't want to hear.
"What was that?" Gerald asked, his temper rising.
"I said, I am enjoying myself." Colby shot him a small glare.
"With that contraption? Give me that thing." He reached over and snatched the electronic device from his son's grasp.
"Dad—" Colby's protests were cut off by Jackson's piercing scream. The three sitting at the table were up in a flash, rushing through the lining of bush and trees that separated the creek from the rest of the park, where they knew Jackson and Tucker were.
"What is it, Jackie?" Janet cried fearfully, reaching for her 8-year-old son. He was on his bottom, wailing, near the bank of the river. He pointed towards a patch of unsettled brush near him, probably misplaced when he stumbled out of it. Janet stayed behind with Jackson, while Colby followed Gerald through the bush to whatever had traumatized the younger boy. What they saw there was a sight neither would soon forget.
Tucker stood there, wagging his tail as if proud of himself. He had something in his mouth, but it was most definitely not a stick. It was what looked like what used to be someone's arm. And before him, forming a barrier between the dog and his masters, was a person. Or, rather, what used to be one.
"You know, Booth, I can carry my own equipment. I'm pregnant, not disabled," forensic anthropologist Dr. Temperance Brennan informed her partner of six years, and more recently, fiancée, FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, with an annoyed huff. Brennan was a little over three months pregnant.
"Yeah, I know that, Bones, but I'm still gonna do nice things for you, like open the door for you and carry your bag. I'm your fiancée, and I don't care what anybody says, in my eyes, chivalry is not dead."
"What? Booth, chivalry is a way of life, not a living thing. Therefore, it cannot die."
"You know what, Bones, never mind. So, what do you think, Cam?" He asked as the pair approached forensic pathologist Dr. Camille Saroyan, head of the Forensics Division of the Medico-Legal Lab at the Jeffersonian Institute in Washington, DC. Currently they were in the small northern-Virginia suburb of King's Park West, in Fairfax County. The body Cam was kneeling next to now was discovered by a young boy and his dog in Leeslyvania State Park, a small state park at the center of King's Park West. That was where they were now. To their right was the lazily-flowing Leeslyvania Creek. To their left was a dead body.
"Too little flesh for me here, although lividity suggests the victim was killed elsewhere and dumped here. Decomp rate suggests four to six months," she informed them.
"Zygomatic arch and high nasal roots indicate Caucasian, occipital bones indicate male, pubic surface suggests somewhere between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, about one hundred-eighty centimeters." Brennan was now kneeling next to the remains, pointing to the areas she mentioned. Booth stood by, wary of Brennan leaning too close to remains. When she went a little too far, Booth caught her by the shoulder, pulling her to her feet.
Agent Shaw, who'd joined the group in the middle of Brennan's lecture, asked, "What was that in English?"
"White teenage boy, about five-foot-eleven," Booth supplied.
Shaw sighed a bit. "Right. Does it take a while to get used to the scientific garble?"
"Oh yeah. I'd be lost too, if I hadn't have been stuck with these squints for the last six years."
"Oh, hush, Booth. You love us," Cam scolded lightly, smiling.
"Especially me," Brennan added, looking as if this were the first time any of them had been aware of this.
Booth rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Yeah, true as that is, one last question—what is that arm doing separate from the rest of the body?" He pointed over the remains to the victim's left arm, which was lying a few feet away from the rest of him.
"Oh, that. Apparently the dog that belonged to the little boy who found the remains wanted to play fetch with it," Cam answered.
Booth grimaced. "Alright," he called, raising his voice to the nearby FBI techs. "We're gonna want soil samples, nearby vegetation, any animals that might've snacked on the vic, and the remains—preserved, carefully—shipped back the Jeffersonian!"
"I think they understand what needs to be done by now, Booth, they have been at it for six years," Brennan told him, walking briskly past him back towards his SUV.
"Well you're the one that's always bugging them to get it right so they don't 'compromise evidence', even though they were trained by the FBI not to—"
"Except they do, Booth…" The partner's bickering continued as they moved out of earshot, leaving behind a bemused Cam and a slightly confused Shaw.
"Why do they still argue like that if they're in love now?" Shaw asked the pathologist.
"Well, they might not admit it, but they've been in love for the past six years and it hasn't stopped them before," Cam answered with a smile before preparing to leave the crime scene herself.
Shaw nodded acknowledgement, even though they both knew she didn't fully understand.
But then, who would?
Author's Note: This is just a start, it's going to get much more interesting, I promise. Anyways, what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Want to kiss your screen and praise the Lord in reaction to my literary genius? Have the urge to pick up your computer moniter/laptop and chuck it across the room in rage and disgust (let's hope not)? I want your thoughts, please! Well, that's it for now, since I'm strapped for time. Keep your eyes open for an update sometime soon! Later!