The music in the club was loud enough for Bones to feel from the top of her head to the soles of her shoes. She maneuvered her way through the crowd of pulsating bodies towards the bar.
"A dry martini, two olives please," she said to Booth.
He nodded to her, acknowledging her presence and her drink order. His eyes darted to the end of the bar, where a man of about 35 was seated with darty eyes that were scanning the bar. They fell upon Bones, lingered for a beat, and then went back to the drink he was nursing in front of him. Booth, dressed as an unassuming bartender, gave Bones her martini and the whole process has taken less than 30 seconds. But Booth held her gaze as she paid for the drink, giving him a handsome tip much to Booth's chagrin, and they both knew that their trap had been laid.
She downed her drink, making sure the man at the bar saw her, and felt the liquor burn her throat and settle her nerves. She slinked back to the dance floor and moved to the music, all the while making sure she was in the eye line of their target. Before her and the team had entered the club she had wondered if the silver sequined cocktail dress had been a bit much, but when she saw Booth do a double take (hell, even Angela had done a double take) she knew it would work just fine. And judging from the amount of attention the target was paying her, she decided the dress was a wise choice. There was a slowly forming line to get drinks as the bartender seemed decidedly distracted. Brennan felt a large hand on the small of her back and gave a barely noticeable jump.
"Refill that drink for you darlin'?" asked the target, a Mr. RJ Lefleur, of Mobile, Alabama. Brennan plastered on a flirtatious grin and merely nodded. She was holding down the vomit that had threatened to escape as she thought of just what this man had done. Over the past 3 months her team had been tracking down a serial killer who had left a trail of 20-30 year old female victims who were left with literally nothing but their skin and bones. All major organs were removed, and the blood drained. Each corpse was left with a simple note: The whore died the way she lived.
The 6 victims had all been tracked back to the same club on the night they died, Aqueous. The club manager was rich enough to keep the club's name out of the paper, giving the killer a steady stream of girls to choose from.
Zach had managed to find the exact blade used to slice open the girls' limbs. The blade had a trademark edge pattern belonging to a family owned knife company in Alabama. Booth had connected the local police force only to find that they had one unsolved murder with a similar MO to their killer. The victim was named Janine LeFleur, sister of RJ. She was a well-known party girl in town, but also the mother of 3 children. Instead of taking custody of the kids, RJ had mysteriously decided to leave town and had made his way up the coast to DC.
From what Brennan could tell he chose 1 to 2 girls a month, often scantily clad, bought them a drink laced with a colorless and odorless drug, and took them back to an abandoned mental hospital on the outskirts of town for his own special brand of operation. His motive didn't matter to Brennan, only that he was stopped. So she had donned her shortest dressed, teased her hair in a way she hoped she would never have to replicate, and thrown on her highest heels. The combination of the three had landed their perp, and the lower body blood flow of half the men in the room.
She held her grin as she put her lips to the drink LeFleur had just offered her. This was the part that caused her stomach to do a back flip. She had no choice but to take the drink, and leave her fate in the hands of Booth and hidden FBI team outside. She downed the drink and swallowed so fast it barely had time to touch her tongue. LeFleur watched the drink go down and flashed bright white smile.
"Well darlin', looks like this is gonna be one helluva night!" he said with a laugh. You have no idea thought Brennan, never letting her face betray her.