Thank you for your encouraging reviews. I appreciate them all. This is a reminder that this story is rated T for violence.

I don't own Bones.

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Hodgins, hovering nearby, watched as Brennan and Cam carefully examined the body of Mark Rodrigue on the table before them. "I've gone over the clothing belonging to the victim found in the river and even though the clothes were water logged I did find some particulates other than river plants. So far I haven't found any unique plant life that could point to where Agent Roberts had been. I can tell you that the blood on the clothes belong entirely to the victim. The blood type matches Agent Roberts so it's looking more and more like it's him. He didn't have a wallet on him so I'm assuming the murderer took it although it could have been lost in the river. I checked on the DNA tests for you and they're still running. I'm going to go over Agent Rodrigue's clothes next."

Glancing at Brennan and then at Hodgins, Cam acknowledged his finds, "Good that's good. Let me know what you find out about the particulates as soon as you can. We need to narrow down where Roberts was killed. He clearly wasn't killed on the island where he was found. Chances are he was killed up river and his body floated down and his body snagged on the stones. The fact that his body wasn't found with Agent Rodrigue's body tells me that he was killed in a different spot and his body was either dumped in the river or his body fell in the river. We need to find out where he entered the Shenandoah. That will give the FBI an idea where to look for Booth."

Nodding his head, Hodgins turned his gaze upon his friend, "Dr. B, we will find out where Booth is. I promise you we will do everything we can to find him. The FBI hasn't given up and we won't either."

Her eyes remaining on the victim, Brennan nodded her head, "Yes, thank you. Booth is very adept at adapting to extremely dangerous situations. If we haven't found his body then we can assume that he is alive and waiting for someone to reach him to back him up in whatever situation he's found himself in. He's a sniper and he knows how to operate under extremely dangerous conditions."

Sighing, Hodgins spoke quietly, "I agree. He's survived a lot of shit overseas. He can take care of himself."

Watching Hodgins leave the room, Cam turned her attention back to the corpse lying on the table before her. "Hodgins is right. Just because we haven't heard from him doesn't mean anything. There are a lot of reasons why we haven't been able to contact him."

"Yes, you're right." Collecting shotgun pellets from the victim's face, Brennan carefully dropped them in a sterile container.

Noticing the slight tremble in Brennan's hand, Cam understood that the anthropologist was trying to be as professional as she could be to help them find her husband.

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Sitting in her office, Brennan held her hands over her eyes and tried to remain calm. It had been a long morning and they were still trying to find the place where Agent Roberts was killed. Dropping her hands, she reached for her phone and tried to call her husband again. After her call moved to voicemail Brennan left a message, "This is Brennan . . . This is Bones . . . I love you." Ending the call, she stared at her phone.

Cam, entering the office, moved over to the desk and cleared her throat, "The DNA test confirms the victim found in the water was Agent Kent Roberts. I'm going to start the autopsy on Mark Rodrigue in a few minutes. . . . Are you alright?"

Looking up, Brennan placed her phone on her desktop, "Yes, I'm fine.

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Weeping quietly, the child pressed her hand against the side of the man's head, her gaze flicking between his slack features and the bushes surrounding them. Keeping the pressure on the wound, she'd finally got the bleeding to slow down but she wasn't sure what to do next. Finally releasing her hand from the bloody area, she saw the blood start to weep again. Frightened, she removed her jacket and then her t-shirt. Tearing strips from the shirt, she made a pad of the material and laid it across the bloody gash on the side of the man's head and then tore strips to tie around his head to keep the pad in place. Once that was done, she put her jacket back on and buttoned it up. Using her mutilated shirt she tried to wipe the blood from his face and neck and then her hands.

Hearing him start to moan, the girl placed her hand over his mouth and whispered in his ear, "Please mister, you need to keep quiet. He'll find us."

Opening his eyes, Booth stared at the young girl leaning over him. She was disheveled, her face dirty and smeared with blood. Her jacket was also blood splattered and that caused him instant concern. Opening his mouth, the child pressed her hand tightly against his mouth. Whispering close to his ear, the pre-teen ordered him, "Don't talk please. He'll find us. Please don't say anything."

Nodding his head, Booth reached up and placed his hand over hers. After she uncovered his mouth, the young girl pointed to her ear and then his mouth and then placed her ear next to his mouth.

As quiet as could, Booth whispered, "Are you hurt?"

Moving away from his mouth, the child shook her head and then pressed her hand against his head.

Feeling pain lance through his head, Booth reached up and gingerly touched the area of his head that was covered by the pad. Removing his hand, Booth nodded his head. The child leaning over him, held her ear next to his mouth. His mouth dry, Booth spoke very quietly, "Who are you? Who are you afraid of?"

Placing her mouth next to his ear, the child said, "I'm Kathy Cogan. You snuck me away from my Daddy's camp last night. I heard shooting and he . . . I think he killed one of the men that was with you. He chased you and me and some other man who was with us and when you were shot your friend dragged you in this bush and then he said he was going to lead my Daddy away from us. The man didn't come back. I don't know where my Daddy is."

Leaning over the agent, once again she placed her ear next to his mouth. Booth, uncertain what was going on, tried to talk quietly, "Kathy, you can call me, Booth . . . I don't remember why I took you out of your father's camp."

Nodding her head, Kathy wiped the tears from her eyes and leaned over his ear, "My Daddy took me from my Mommy a few days ago. He said he was going to kill me and him if someone tried to take me from him again. My Daddy is a bad man. He killed my step-daddy when he took me and he hurt my Mommy. I don't know how my Mommy is. I'm afraid. . . . You found me picking firewood last night and . . . and you told me that you were going to take me to my Mommy and then you picked me up and walked away from the camp . . . My Daddy came after us. The two men with you tried to protect us and . . . and my Daddy may have killed one of them. I don't know about your other friend. . . . I'm afraid."

Rubbing his mouth, Booth glanced around the area and saw that they were lying under some bushes of some kind. Lifting up on his elbows, he peered around the bushes and then lay back down. Reaching in his jacket for his phone, he pulled it out and found that there were no bars on his phone. Placing it back in his pocket he licked his lips, closed his eyes and then forced them open again.

Feeling her small ear next to his mouth, Booth whispered, "Sweetheart, we need to leave but we need to stay here until it gets dark. Let me rest and as soon as the sun goes down, we'll try to get out of here. Is that okay? Can you wait?"

Tears streaming down her face, Kathy leaned over and spoke into his ear, "Okay." Wiping her tears from her face, Kathy lay down next to Booth and draped her arm across his chest, clutching his jacket tightly.

Reaching up and patting her small hand, Booth closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

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What do you think of my story so far?

A/N: Layla that was a mistake. Thanks for letting me know. I fixed it.