Author's Note: Yes another new story. :) Don't worry, I haven't forgotten any of my other projects though. This takes place a couple of months after the end of season six.
I do not own Bones or any of its characters.
Thank you to everyone who reads/follows/reviews this. It's always appreciated.
The Gloaming of the Soul
Booth slowly drove along the run-down streets of a neighborhood near the edges of Virginia, taking in the scenery.
About three hours ago, the Bureau had gotten a call from a Sheriff Dean Barnes about a pair of bodies that had been found in the bushes of his town's park. The man had been shaken as he described the gory condition of the bodies and had requested assistance in figuring out who they were and what had happened to them. This subsequently led to Booth being ordered to accompany his partner, Brennan, out to this modest town to meet with Barnes.
Looking at the neighborhood as it passed him by, Booth guessed that this was probably an insular community, populated mainly by young families and their elderly relatives. It wasn't really a place that would attract tourists or businessmen, so the agent suspected that the bodies would turn out to be from this town. Meaning that some family was going to get the worst possible news in the near future.
Booth soon found the park in question and parked his car right next to the taped off area. As he got out, he saw a van with the Jeffersonian's Medico-Legal lab's logo park alongside him. Once it stopped, Hodgins immediately got out and headed over to the remains after a quick nod in Booth's direction. A moment later, Brennan got out of the car with a case in her hand, and she and Booth walked toward the scene together.
"Hey Bones," he said, trying to not be too cheery. "Ok, so Sheriff Barnes here says that the bodies have probably been here for no more than four days."
"How can he be so precise?" the anthropologist asked. "I doubt that he has the forensic training necessary to make such an assessment."
"Well apparently the town just finished celebrating its 'Community Booster Days'," Booth replied.
"That's right," Barnes chimed in as he walked up behind them. "This is a close community. Everyone knows each other and everyone supports each other."
"Right, so anyway before the event happened, volunteers spent two days thoroughly cleaning up the park," Booth continued.
"I have serious doubts that no one would have said anything about…about those bodies over there," the sheriff said. "We had every inch of the park cleaned."
"That means that they had to have been placed there either during the celebration or immediately afterwards," Booth finished.
"Your reasoning is sound," Brennan conceded. The three of them continued to walk toward the corpses and soon found Hodgins kneeling down and collecting samples from on and around the bodies.
"Periplaneta Americana," the entomologist announced upon seeing them approach. "Also known as the American Cockroach. From what I'm seeing here, these bodies have been here no more than three days tops."
"Ha, what did I tell you, Bones?" Booth laughed.
"You and I both know what you said to me, so there is no need for me to repeat it," Brennan said while making a face at him. The anthropologist then crouched down near the bodies while Booth moved off to the side to get a better look at them.
"Wait a minute, are you sure that they've only been here for three days?" the agent asked, incredulous. "Because there is a whole lot of…stuff…um, missing…gone…for just three days."
"More than likely there are feral cats in the area who scavenged on the flesh," Brennan replied. "Along with any rodents in the area."
"And yet again, this is why I don't like cats," Booth snorted.
"Actually in most cases the rodents would be far more likely to strip the flesh from the bone," Brennan said. "They will sometimes even try to do it while the person is still alive. You should be grateful for natural predators like cats since they help keep the rodent population under control."
"That's why they invented mousetraps, Bones," the agent scowled.
"This one is a male, mid to late thirties," Brennan added, turning her attention to the remains. "The other is a female. Approximately the same age."
"What's that on his finger?" Booth asked. "It looks like a wedding band." The anthropologist leaned closer toward the larger of the two bodies.
"It does appear to be a wedding ring, yes," she nodded.
"I'm guessing that the two of them were married to each other," Booth said.
"Pure conjecture," Brennan frowned.
"Call it a hunch," the agent said. "So what's the story here? Is it murder?"
"Murder?" Barnes gasped. "No. It can't be murder. That kind of thing doesn't happen around here. Not in this town."
"These marks on the ribs and in what's left of the surrounding tissue definitely appear to be stab wounds," Brennan said before looking up at Barnes. "I'm afraid your community is not immune to murder, sheriff."
Four hours later, both sets of remains were laying on tables on the forensic platform of the lab. Brennan, Cam and Wendell were examining them.
"I concur with your assessment of stabbing, Doctor Brennan," the pathologist said. "This was a vicious attack."
"I counted fourteen stab wounds on the male," Wendell said. "And nine on the female."
"There doesn't seem to be any defensive wounds," Cam said. "And yet, I don't think that any one of these wounds would have been instantly fatal."
"I agree," Brennan said. "Cause of death is probably bleeding out due to the sheer number of injuries."
"I don't see any head trauma that would explain why they didn't fight back," Cam said.
"There might be something in the bone that could tell us something," Wendell added.
"Until then, I'm going to go ahead and run a toxicology screen along with the autopsy," the pathologist said. "That might tell us something as well. I'll start whenever you two are finished."
"We will be done in a few minutes," Brennan said as she leaned down to examine the bodies. A moment later, Angela came up onto the platform.
"You guys said something about needing some faces?" the artist said. She then looked down at what was left of the bodies and frowned. "Gross."
"Yes, you can run dentals, but facial reconstructions might be needed as well," Brennan said without looking up.
Angela sighed and proceeded to take numerous photos of each body so she could start facial reconstructions. Once she was done, she slowly backed away.
"I'll see what I can come up with from these," she said. As she left, Hodgins came up the stairs toward her.
"Hey," Angela smiled at him. "I was just getting ready to upload some pictures into my computer. But after that, I was planning on visiting Michael in day care."
"I'll join you as soon as I can," Hodgins grinned back at her. They shared a quick kiss before she left and Hodgins turned toward the others around him.
"I checked the soil samples from around the victims," the entomologist said. "Nothing of interest. No transfers from another area, so the bodies were probably not moved at any point after they died."
"Which means, according to Booth's timeline, that they were probably killed and left there on the last day of the festivities," Cam replied.
"Not exactly the way to go out with a bang," Hodgins said solemnly.
Over at the Hoover Building, Booth talked to Barnes at length about the town and any possible disturbances.
"No nothing," the sheriff had told him. "I mean sure, you've got some people who just don't get along with each other, but nothing major. Nothing like what you're implying. The most that happens around here is the occasional bar fight or someone keying up someone else's car."
"Similar questions about any suspicious activity during the town's celebrations also turned up nothing, leaving Booth with little to go on. At least until the victims could be identified. Booth let the sheriff go and started to fill out paperwork while he waited for something from the lab.
About an hour into his work, Booth's computer alerted him that Angela was trying to get a hold of him. A click of his mouse brought a video of her up onto his screen.
"We ID'd the victims," Angela said. "Turns out that they were in the Child Services database.
"Child Services?" Booth echoed, surprised.
"Yeah, as foster parents," the artist continued before bringing up their photos. "Mr. Donald Garlock and Mrs. Crystal Garlock. Both of them residents of the town that they were found in."
"Wait, foster parents," Booth repeated. "Do they have any kids in their custody now?" A worried look soon crossed Angela's features as she did some additional tapping on her touch pad.
"According to this, they have one child now, a boy," Angela said. "Nick LaRouche. He's only nine years old."
"We didn't find any children with the remains," Booth said rising out of his chair. "So where is the kid now?"
Moments after talking to Angela, Booth was in his SUV speeding down the road back toward the town. It had taken him several tries, but eventually he was able to get a hold of Barnes on his cell phone. The agent quickly told him the identity of the victims.
"The Garlocks?" Barnes gasped. "You mean that…mess I found was all that was left of the Garlocks?"
"Did you know that they had a foster kid living with them?" the agent inquired.
"Yeah, Nick LaRouche," the sheriff said. "Oh God…."
"Exactly," Booth barked into the phone. "Meet me at the Garlock's house. And be prepared to have your men start a search."
"You've got it," Barnes replied. Booth acknowledged him with a grunt and hung up so he could turn his attention back onto the road and back onto getting there as fast as he could.
Soon Booth arrived at the address he was given for the Garlocks and as he drove up, he saw the sheriff pull up alongside him.
"My men have already started looking around the town," Barnes said as they both got out of their cars. "So far, no one's seen Nick." Booth's gut clenched at the news.
"Hadn't anyone been missing them or the boy before now?" Booth asked.
"No. Everyone thought that they were out of town," Barnes explained. "Ethan..that's Donald's boss…said that Donald told him that him and the wife and kid were going out of town for a few days to visit Crystal's folks. We all thought that they were in Florida by now."
Booth nodded and the two of them rushed to the front door. The sheriff pounded on the door.
"Nick. Hey Nick," Barnes called out. "It's Sheriff Barnes. Open the door." The two of them waited for a few seconds before Barnes tried again to no avail.
"Sheriff we need to get in there," Booth insisted. Barnes nodded and the two of them braced themselves to ram against the door. Booth gave a count of three, and then they slammed into the door with all of their might. The wood quickly gave way under the pressure, and they rushed inside.
"Nick? Nick, are you here?" Barnes yelled as they walked around the house. "The agent silently searched around and under all of the furniture and inside a couple of closets when a muffled sob reached his ears.
"Do you hear that?" Booth said, halting the sheriff's yelling. Barnes nodded and the two of them crept toward the sound. Eventually they made their way to what looked like the boy's bedroom and as they drew closer to the bedroom closet they could hear someone crying.
"Nick, are you ok?" Barnes asked. Booth tried the knob and was started to realize that the door was locked. He then took his shoulder to it and busted the closet open to find a boy sitting on the floor crying. The stench of ammonia wafted out as Booth knelt down next to him.
"Hey, buddy, are you ok?" Booth asked.
"They…they're dead, aren't they?" the boy sobbed. "Mom and Dad are dead?"
Stunned, Booth remained silent while the child's tears increased. Not knowing what else to do in that moment, Booth gathered the child into a hug and held him close.
"It's ok, buddy," he soothed. "You're safe now. We…we'll figure something out."