Summer Skin

Chapter One

The days were warm and bright, forcing residents of D.C. to slather on sunscreen whenever they went outside for long lengths of time. The not-a-state was bustling with activity as people left the confines of their homes to explore the great outdoors. Daycares took elementary school-aged children on trips to the Capitol, and teenage baby-sitters brought kids to parks. Cheers and giggles were audible by nearly every patch of green in the area.

It was a sort of celebration, not uncommon in the country as the days of summer dwindled down and made room for a new school year. Bathing suits went on sale for half price, drawing the last of the pool-partiers to the water. Store shelves were fully stocked with #2 pencils, magic markers, and loose-leaf paper.

Agent Seeley Booth had been relaxing for much of the three months, taking off as much time as possible. He wanted to spend practically every moment with Parker, teaching him how to play football or fight Darth Vader. He traded in his standard suit and shoes for tropical shorts and flip-flops. He knew it was somewhat ridiculous for a man of his caliber, but he couldn't help but love the freedom.

He pulled the Kool-Aid popsicles from the freezer and sat them on his kitchen counter. Parker, who had been coloring a picture of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, looked up with excitement when he heard the ice breaking free from the plastic. Booth held tight to the stick and lifted a pink-lemonade Popsicle from the ice cube tray. He handed it to his son, who was nearly salivating in anticipation.

He chuckled as he rescued one for himself before walking over to the Philadelphia 76ers calendar hanging next to the pantry. Red x's mockingly counted down the days of his vacation. Tomorrow, Rebecca would go over to pick up Parker and Booth would go back to work. It wasn't all bad news, he told himself as he used the red pen to cross off another day. He did miss the squints, although he'd never tell them so directly. He especially missed Bones, with all her quirky facts and aggravating ways to start an argument. As Parker dropped the now somewhat-soupy popsicles on the floor, he said a little prayer of thanks that he would soon be around big people once again.

Dr. Brennan was very pleased with herself. In Booth's absence from the lab, she had managed to properly identify six victims of a warehouse fire. Deputy Director Cullen had not assigned another agent to the lab, so the squint-squad had had to make do with less dramatic cases. Although she was completely caught up on her paperwork and had not endured one threat on her life in the past three months, she would be glad when Booth returned to give them cases. Zach and Hodgins were getting especially restless, racing more beetles than ever before.

Brennan finished looking over the next chapter of her new book and pressed the save button. She knew people expected her to be nervous about writing after what had happened with the red tape, but she wasn't afraid. She had been right about the events not being connected directly to her and was not about to let any left-over speculation stop her creative drive. She turned off the lamp that sat on the corner of her desk, grabbed her purse, and left for the evening.

She arrived at the Jeffersonian early the next morning to find Booth showing Angela Polaroids of his time off.

"I thought Brennan was kidding when she said she saw you dressed like a surfer. You have got to let me have a copy of this," the brunette said through a grin.

Booth quickly slipped the photo from her fingers. "I don't think so." He heard heels on the floor and glanced across the room. "Hey, Bones, did you have a nice night?"

"It was alright. Did you have a good vacation?" she asked.

Angela grabbed the picture back. "It sure looks like he did." She dashed off to her office before he could retaliate.

"You know she's going to make about a hundred copies of that thing and give it to everyone she knows," Brennan said.

"I'm FBI," Booth replied, "I'll get it back from her."

Brennan raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Okay, so I won't. It's one picture; how much harm could it cause?"

"Did you come to chat or do you actually have a case?"

He feigned being kicked in the gut. "Wow, Bones, I've been gone for two weeks and all you care about is a case?"

"I saw you three days ago, Booth and I thought we caught up quite sufficiently then. We are at my place of business, which is where I'm paid to do actual work, so let's get started."

"I'm not going to win this one, am I?" He made a pouty face.

She was walking to her office and didn't notice. "Probably not."

He followed her and sat atop her desk while she chose the more comfortable couch. He picked up a manila case-file and passed it to her. He watched as she read in silence.

"Mr. Dutchless just found the remains in his backyard?" she inquired.

"We'll have to ask him that personally, but he says he wanted to install a pool and was starting the digging when his shovel hit something. He uncovered what he thought were old dog bones until he saw the skull."

"So my remains have been compromised?" she asked with her voice full of distaste.

"The cops aren't sure about that. They haven't been trained like you have, so they don't have a clue how a skull's supposed to look beyond the basics."

She grabbed a Jeffersonian coat and waved him out the door.

He paused to re-tie his shoelaces, showing off colorful socks.

"I know you like outlandish socks, but don't you think palm trees and flowers are a bit much?"

He stood up straight, sticking his chest out just slightly. "Although my vacation is over, summer is still here for twenty more days. I plan on shedding my summer skin as slowly as possible."

They drove to the crime scene in a suburban neighborhood with Brennan changing the radio stations every so often. She never seemed to be satisfied with one style of music, but always had to have something with a beat.

When Booth pulled up to the house, he was dismayed to find the block swarming with neighbors. Everyone wanted to get a glimpse of a real-dead skeleton. He led her to the scene with his hand at her back. She had become accustomed to the gesture, but it never failed to send a sort of shiver up her spine.

"Body's over there," said a cop with a toothpick sticking between his teeth. He pointed to a small crowd of people.

A bald man dressed all in flannel stood next to the hole in the ground. Beads of sweat lined his forehead, and his calloused hands were shaking. Brennan looked ready to charge ahead, but Booth pulled her back.

"Let me do all the talking," he whispered in her ear. She nodded and they walked forward.

"Are you Mr. Dutchless?" Booth asked in his interrogating voice.

"Yes," the man replied almost inaudibly.

Brennan stepped in front of her partner. "Did you touch the remains? Did you move them or contaminate them in any way?"

The man, shocked by her bluntness, stood frozen on the spot.

Brennan turned to Booth. "What's wrong with him? Why can't he talk?"

The Special Agent smiled at Mr. Dutchless. "Relax, Bones." He adjusted his tie. "Sir, did you touch the body at all?"

Mr. Dutchless swallowed hard. "As soon as I unearthed it and was able to tell what it was, I stopped and called you folks straightaway." He peered at the stern-looking forensic anthropologist. "I didn't touch it with my hands, if that's what you want to know."

Brennan walked around him and knelt down to examine what was in the ground. She tilted her head to the side and took in the size and shape of the bones that told the most. Booth directed Mr. Dutchless to another cop to take his statement and then watched Brennan's actions.

"What do you think, Bones?" he asked after a moment.

"It's a female. She was a teenager, between fourteen and seventeen, and approximately five-foot five-inches tall." She turned around and looked up at him. "Why is this a federal case?"

His face grew serious. "If that's who we think it is, she was kidnapped about two years ago from North Carolina."

"Who do we think it is?" She stood up and flattened a crease in her pants.

"Kastyn Davidson, age sixteen, a junior at Northeastern High School in Elizabeth City. She went missing Homecoming night of 2004. Her boyfriend was the number one suspect, but that never went anywhere. Now, hopefully, that will change." His eyes were dark and full of determination.

Brennan could tell he'd stirred over this case for a long time and was glad to have another crack at it. "Why is that?"

"Her boyfriend, our number one suspect, was eighteen-year-old Matthew Dutchless."

A similar look found its way into her eyes as she ordered her team to carefully exhume the rest of the remains and send them, along with soil samples, to the Jeffersonian. She was going to do whatever it took to get Booth his peace.


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