Hi guys! I'm here with the sequel no one asked for and will probably get updated paper encyclopedia (had nothing good for simile and I'm currently experiencing computer issues). Anyway. I have a few chapters done and this will probably be longer than the first story "Mole in the Murder". The story might seem off but it connects. I don't own Bones
Chapter One
"Christ Almighty," Booth said. The team looked at the Angelatron. On the screen was an eleven year old girl who disappeared three years ago. Caroline Smith. She disappeared one cold November night from her home in Erie Pennsylvania. Her family had recently moved there and Caroline didn't seem happy with the move. Her parents were contemplating divorce, her younger brother was recovering from a car crash that killed their grandfather, her older brother was becoming a delinquent, and her youngest brother clung to her for emotional support. She was stressed out and angry. People thought she ran away and would come home but no one could find any trace of evidence of where she went. She didn't go to her old home and didn't have any close friends to shelter her. Everyone feared the worst.
Her disappearance was even more suspicious after police had to be called over to the family home for a domestic dispute two months after her disappearance. They found no evidence of domestic or child abuse, and Mr. and Mrs. Smith swore they were just arguing about their missing daughter. Two days later, Mrs. Smith and the youngest two sons went missing. Three months ago, Ryan Smith, Caroline's older brother, had died of an overdose. Now it was just Mr. Smith.
Booth had Angela pull up the records of Mr. Bill Smith. Bill Smith had been picked up a few times for public intoxication but nothing serious. He was a licensed gun owner and hunter, and had two registered rifles and a handgun. He still lived in the same house. Bill actively tried to find his missing children. He routinely called hospitals, shelters, and morgues for Johnny and Janie Does. He had a FaceBook page devoted to his missing children. Recently he was fired and was supposedly living at home.
"Tragedy could not leave this family alone, huh?" Angela said bitterly.
"I'll get the next plane out there," Booth said.
XXX
The house looked abandoned. The grass was overgrown, a window was boarded up. A section of the gutter was missing. The white paneling on the sides was covered in dirt. A beat up car was parked in the driveway. Booth walked up to the front door and tried to ring the doorbell. It didn't work so he knocked. No one answered. Booth was about to knock again when the door swung open an inch. A haggard face looked through the crack. A security chain prevented Booth from trying to open the door any farther.
"Who are you?" the man spat. He reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke.
"Mr. William Smith?" Booth asked.
"You didn't answer my question," the man growled.
"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI. I'm here to talk to you about your daughter," he said.
"You found her," the man actually smiled.
"I'm sorry sir but Carrie is dead," Booth said gently. He expected sobbing and pleading. Not this. The man threw his head back and laughed.
"Look at that Lou!" he howled, "You fooled the government too! But you can't fool me."
"Mr. Smith," Booth tried to get a handle on the situation. The door shut and quickly reopened. Bill Smith undid the security chain and told him to come in. He led him into a dark office next to the hallway. He turned on the lights. Inside the room were the ramblings of a crazy man with a police officer's organizational skills. He had whiteboards filled with dates and times and corkboards with strings connecting pieces of paper and photographs. A cot was jammed next to a desk with a sleek Mac on top.
"Sir?" Booth said.
"This is my evidence room. You're wrong; if you look closely at my evidence you can see my wife orchestrated the whole thing. It's all her fault and I'm hot on her trail. She has my baby boys and I'm going to get them back. Then I'll get Carrie back," Mr. Smith rambled.
"Your daughter is dead Mr. Smith. My team has confirmed the body we found is Caroline Smith. Your daughter is dead," Booth said slowly.
"No she's not," he hissed, "Lou arranged everything. My princess isn't dead. She's alive and well. Living with some other family. Calling some other man Dad and some other bitch Mom."
Booth was confused. Who is Lou? Rebecca Smith was the name of his wife and there are no neighbors or surviving relatives named Lou. He tried again, "Sir, if you believe that your daughter is still alive then-"
"No, no, no, no, no!" he yelled, "The police will mess it all up. They don't understand and the ones that do are working for her."
"For who?" Booth asked.
"For Lou! My God, are you even listening?" Mr. Smith exploded. "She did it all! She arranged for her to be taken away and left when I got close. She took away my kids. Drove Ryan to drugs. It's all her fault." Suddenly lucid, he said, "I'm not crazy, I swear. She did it all. I have the evidence. It'll take a while but it makes sense in the end."
"Sir," Booth said.
"Please," he begged, "You don't know what I've seen. I watched her grow up. Her first word was Dada. She loved Spongebob and Fairly Odd Parents. When she was little she wanted to be a Disney Princess when she grew up. She broke her left arm and wouldn't stop crying until I promised her soda, ice cream, and pizza. She can't swallow pills for the life of her. I just want my little girl back. You got to help me."
"Okay sir. Tell me what you know," Booth said. He didn't really believe him. The man went back to crazy as soon as he started. Nothing he said made sense. His conclusions were far-fetched and unlikely. He came to the conclusion that his wife took the boys to New England and was now in California. He said his wife traded his daughter for something but he didn't know what. Booth decided that he would call the local police to bring him in for questioning and have Sweets analyze him over a video call. Mr. Smith was definitely not fit for questioning. Anything he said would get thrown out in court unless he proved otherwise.
XXX
Booth cracked his back and groaned. He wished Brennan was here. She knew how to uncrack his back just the right way. She had to stay behind because Hayley had gotten mono which she claimed to have gotten from sharing a water bottle with one of her teammates. Booth was sure there was a boyfriend but Matt was refusing to be his spy or tell him anything.
His phone rang. It was the local police. He had called them last night and they said they would see if they could get a warrant.
"Hello," he said.
"Agent Booth," Lieutenant Goldberg said.
"Lieutenant Goldberg, what a surprise. How's the warrant coming along?" Booth asked.
"It's coming. We managed to send a guy down to talk to Mr. Smith into coming in for an interview. He'll be here at ten o'clock sharp. I suggest that you ready your shrink or we'll have to pull one from a local hospital," Lieutenant Goldberg said gruffly.
"Sure thing," Booth said and hung up. He called Sweets and was delighted to hear he didn't have an appointment between ten and ten-thirty. He would be good to analyze over videochat. Booth made his way to the precinct. A rookie officer showed him to the interrogation room and prepped the computer so Sweets could talk to Mr. Smith. At 10:01, Lt. Goldberg led Mr. Smith in.
"I made him aware of his rights and he declined a lawyer," Lt. Goldberg announced. Booth introduced him to Sweets he did not look happy.
"I'm not crazy," Mr. Smith said.
"I am merely here to make sure you are telling the truth and are fit to testify in court," Sweets said.
"Go fuck yourself, shrink boy," Mr. Smith snorted and rolled his eyes.
"Crude language will not help you Bill," Sweets said calmly.
"I'm Mr. Smith to you, cocksucker," Mr. Smith said.
"I'd like to ask you to refrain from cursing at me or any other law enforcement agent here," Sweets said in the same calm voice.
"I hope somebody's fucking your girlfriend up the ass right now," Mr. Smith taunted, "She's probably going 'Oh, oh, baby. Oh my God, baby. Woo!'"
"Mr. Smith," Booth reprimanded. It was a bit of a struggle to keep himself calm.
"Tell this fag to leave me the hell alone. I'm grieving, not crazy. I don't want no analyzation from a quack doctor. I've heard toddlers spit out more intelligent shit," Mr. Smith scoffed.
"It's protocol," Lt. Goldberg said in a bored tone.
"Protocol led to my daughter not being found so shove it up your ass," Mr. Smith folded his arms.
"If you sincerely believe that your daughter and sons are still alive, then you will apologize, sit there politely, and tell us what you know," Booth said through gritted teeth. Mr. Smith turned to him and looked disgusted. "No. No I will not."
"Excuse me?" Booth said.
"No. You boys in blue always fuck things up. I'll find my kids by myself thank you very much. All of you can burn in hell," Mr. Smith stood up. "This interview is over. I'm going home."
Lt. Goldberg showed him out. Booth apologized to Sweets after the two were gone. Sweets shook his head. "Think nothing of it. If anything he is in denial and going to the anger stage. I'd have an officer check in on him. He might go on a rampage or fall into a depression when he realizes he will never see his daughter again. I need to see him more or have him visit another psychologist to see if he can testify. Right now, he is suspect number one."
"All right. I'll see what I can do. See ya," Booth turned off the monitor.