Prologue.
It was a smell that crawled down the throats of everyone in the room, clutched at their guts and twisted slowly. For some it was worse than the sight of it. It was only a mess of browns inside rotting fabrics propped against the wall. Weeks of heat in the sealed, poorly ventilated brick room, sitting in the path of the relentless afternoon sun that burned through the opposite window, it was like a nightmare ripped from a restless sleep and oven cooked.
Zack wiped his nose, a modest display of discomfort, and lifted the camera. Dr Brennan watched the remains light up unnaturally under the flash. Her jaw stiffened as, each time, she glimpsed the essence of horror.
Her eyes lifted, scaling the fan of dried blood that reached high up the brick wall, baked almost black. She would find bits of brain and skull amongst it. The gun was on the floor, next to the leg. Initial observations suggested it was not placed. This was a suicide. It had to be. The body was found like this, the only door and only window locked and sealed from the inside. The walls were brown brick. The exterior was painted cement.
Brennan didn't like it. She didn't understand it. She could rationalize it but those conclusions never satisfied her. She would identify the body and move on. She would identify the woman whose only answer was to lock herself in a tiny room stick a gun in her mouth and blow her brains against the wall.
The camera flashed again and Brennan hushed the cries of madness that haunted underneath the final layers of her mind.
"I'm done, Dr Brennan."
She turned at his voice and clung to his eyes. She needed to know someone still appreciated life. Zack gave a nod and a small smile and she regained her composure. No one else knew she had lost it for a tiny moment. No one knew how many times that had happened. She wished she were one of those people.
"Good." She adjusted the gloves on her hands. He nodded and smiled at her again. She liked that he could smile at her. She approached the body. The shoulders slouched to one side, the head drooped. The hands had propelled back hard into the lap, the gun slipping over the left thigh. Brennan's eyes were alert, her fingers working delicately.
When she needed it, Zack held open a plastic evidence bag. His reliability was a relief. She picked carefully at the fragments of skull stuck inside the grooves of the wall and bagged them separately. Zack helped her patiently.
"It's quiet without Booth," he said finally. It was a valid observation. It wasn't entirely unwelcome either. Brennan was grateful for his attempt to distract her.
"We don't just work for Booth, Zack," she reminded him. It was an invitation for him to keep talking to her. Zack understood it.
"I know. He hasn't needed us for a while," he nodded.
"I would call that a good thing," said Brennan, dropping a fragment into a bag. Zack sealed it up, packed it away and opened a new one.
"I just thought he would have found time to visit, you know, I mean, I'm not saying I want him to visit, personally…that is..."
Brennan looked up at him and for the first time since greeting her coworkers in the morning, smiled. Zack's awkwardness was endearing.
"He did visit," she said. She watched Zack's eyes go a bit wide all of a sudden.
"He did? When? Why didn't he come and…not talk to me?"
"It was the day I told you to go home early. You had a fever. You nearly fainted," she reminded him. The young man's face flushed pink.
"That's not true! I was leaning against the table and…"
"Your head fell on my shoulder."
"My palm was sweaty. It slipped. I was always perfectly conscious," Zack insisted.
"If that were true you would remember Booth not talking to you when he drove you home," said Brennan. A look of horror flashed on Zack's face. Then his keen sense of rationality kicked in.
"You're teasing me. Hodgins drove me home. I remember because he teased me about having terrible aim…" a spark of regret flickered in his eyes. Brennan decided she had put him through enough for one day and pretended she hadn't heard him. She had found the bullet. She dropped it into the bag Zack held open for her, while he continued to stare like an animal caught in headlights.
"We're done here," she said, and stood abruptly. She found the man in charge.
"I need this body sent to the Jeffersonian Institution. I'll require the gun as well." She left his sight quickly before he could protest her last demand. Zack gave the officer a nod and smile as he followed her out of the room.
Later, the mess of browns was laid out on an illuminated table at the labs at the Jeffersonian. Dr Temperance Brennan was going to find the name that went with it.
"The victim was found in a small room, sealed on the inside. Everything about the scene suggested suicide. The body position, the location of the gun, nothing seems out of the ordinary for a self inflicted gunshot through the roof of the mouth," she paused to allow her team time to absorb. Jack Hodgins folded his arms and scoffed. He was always eager to find a conspiracy. Brennan doubted very much he would find one this time.
Dr Camille Saroyan took over. "The remains were found by the daughter of the land owner. Presumably, this is the land owner, Debbie Carr. The remains are female, Caucasian. I would estimate the age to be forty-five to fifty years."
She moved to the table's edge and looked over the body.
It was the smallest reassurance the woman could allow herself. To be able to stand and look down on a broken, discarded body was akin to standing above despair itself. It couldn't effect her from so high up. If only to see if it would work for her, Brennan stepped up beside Cam.
"Evidence of fractures on the right tibia healed over time is concurrent with records of a broken leg seven years ago," she said. "Zack, get started on reconstructing the back of the skull then pass it off to Ange. I want to see this woman's face."
A gentle caress of concern touched Angela's eyes as she looked at her friend. She'd never heard Brennan request one of her sketches like that before. It worried her when a woman like Brennan was unnerved, and she could tell this case had rattled her.
"Sure. I'll get started." She had been holding her breath and was happy to leave the room. She would speak to Brennan later.
"Jack, I want a time of death." Brennan wasn't going to encourage him to do anything else. She wanted this case solved quickly. Then she could begin forgetting it. The man had wildness in his eyes, though he managed to nod calmly.
"Of course."
Cam watched Brennan leave towards her office. Hodgins smirked to himself and then offered that smirk to his superior.
"She didn't mean anything by it."
Cam turned to him, slouching her shoulder casually.
"And I didn't read anything into it. Nothing more than we must all feel about this case."
The man nodded and made sure his eyes didn't pass over the body as he turned back to his microscope.
Brennan went to her office and finally rested her head in her hands to release a troubled sigh through her palms. Her editor had e-mailed again. She wanted another chapter. Brennan couldn't work on it. She forced herself to read through some recent studies she had intended to read a week ago. Nothing registered. Nothing until the knock came at her door. When she looked up Zack was standing there.
"Dr Brennan, you're going to want to come and look at this," he said to her. His voice was too grave. His face looked too pale. Brennan felt the layers of her mind shift.
"Look at what?"
"It's more than one thing actually," Zack said as he lead Brennan back to the lab. Cam, Hodgins and Angela were waiting and looked just as troubled as Zack. Brennan looked down at Hodgins' computer screen.
"Do we have a positive ID or what?" Brennan asked, pretending she was just impatient and not nervous.
Angela handed her the sketch pad. Brennan looked down at a beautiful woman with long flowing hair, sharp, intriguing features and enchanting eyes. Sometimes Brennan thought her friend could capture more than a face when she did these identity sketches. But she didn't believe in that sort of thing, really.
"It's Debbie Carr, alright," Angela confirmed. Brennan shook her head.
"So what's wrong?" she asked. Hodgins turned in his chair, bringing up images on the screen.
"I was examining the hands for gunpowder residue, making sure our victim was actually holding the weapon when it fired," he said, "I found traces of emulsion common to duct tape around the knees and ankles of her clothing," he explained, watching Brennan's reactions carefully. Brennan only frowned but Hodgins knew just how troubled she was feeling now.
Zack pointed down at his own screen and Brennan looked at the scans of the skull he had pieced back together.
"Also, when I finished the reconstruction of the back of the skull I found this small fracture," he said, gesturing with the tip of his finger. Brennan peered at the screen. She knew instantly that it would have occurred soon before the bone had been devastated by the bullet.
"The texture of the fracture suggests it had not had time to heal before the victim died," Zack said, confirming what she already knew.
"This is all evidence of foul play," said Cam, verifying Brennan's fears and fixing her with a trained gaze. It was not possible. Brennan had never, not even for a moment, expected to find anything like this.
"Do you know what this could mean?" Hodgins asked her. He sounded excited.
"This woman did not kill herself," said Angela, "Debbie Carr was murdered."
"But how is that possible? All possible entry points to the room were sealed from the inside. How was she murdered if there was no way for the killer to leave the room?" Zack asked them all.
Brennan looked up at everyone. She couldn't ignore the findings. It wasn't going to be quiet anymore.
"Well now Booth actually has a reason to pay us a visit."