Brennan took herself back to the lab. Word about Booth had spread around like wildfire. No one dared to talk to her. Most could barely make eye contact. Whatever could be said Brennan wouldn't have wanted to hear anyway. She wouldn't listen to comfort. And she wouldn't listen to doubt, or disbelief.
However, the lab was her home away from home. Being there in the space she spent much time with him in felt more comfortable. If she'd gone home she'd never be able to relax. Not that she was accomplishing much of that in general.
She shut the door to her office and collapsed back down at her desk. Her mind worked through the horrific images on the video. Though tears swam through her eyes she pushed them back. The memory changed as her imagination abruptly ran rampant. In her mind's eye she could clearly see him pulling his wrists against the rope that bound him. The look of hate he possessed in his eyes chilled her down to her very bones. As his captor lifted the killing weapon he raised his chin defiantly. The sound of the shot repeated in her ears.
But that wasn't right. There was proof right in the man's actions that he wasn't Booth. Her partner would have fought a lot harder. He wouldn't have just let himself be killed.
Unless he was drugged.
She swatted hastily at a tear. There was no use speculating. Only focusing on the present.
But where to begin? There was no body. No evidence except a bad quality video.
Angela knocked upon her door just then. Without being invited she let herself inside. "Sweetie? I've been looking over the video." She looked traumatized. "I think I got something."
Brennan buried her hope. "What?"
"Well, I fixed the images as best I could, which still wasn't great. But," she paused, trying to decide how to continue. "Do you really want to know what I did, or what I found?"
"I want results."
Angela nodded slightly. "I think I know where Booth is."
***
Hacker was Brennan's first call. By the time she stopped her car in front of the tentative address Angela had come up with some forty five minutes later, agents were just arriving and swarming the scene. Brennan parked. She strode up to whom she presumed was the agent Hacker had informed her he'd put in charge of Booth's case. She made eye contact with him. Then silently headed inside.
"Whoa, whoa," the agent was tugging on her arm. Stopping her. "I don't think so."
"I have to go in there."
"You gotta wait out here. Who are you?"
"His partner."
"You gotta wait out here," he emphasized.
If she'd been with Booth the two could have easily found a way out around him. But solo, she was idealess. She stood back with her arms crossed. Her eyes burned holes into the back of the agent's head. Agent Bartz.
Minutes went by as agents stormed the building. Bartz stood stock still next to her. His cell phone ringing made them both jump. He removed it from his pocket, spoke quietly, then put it away. His look of sorrow towards her made her heart near tear from her chest. "Do you feel up to making an identification?"
"I'll do what needs to be done." She walked away without another word. Outside she was the picture of calm. Inside she was shaking like a little girl. What had they found?
Agents pointed her down a long flight of stairs into a basement room. Inside crime scene investigators were kneeling over a decaying body. The face had been shot, removing any chances of recognition. But just as in the video the body bore the clothes Booth had been wearing. The blood stained hair matched his. In the middle of his chest was a wound that looked at though it'd gone straight through the heart. Even the body type was similar.
Brennan felt ill.
"Can you tell us if this is Agent Booth?" One of the CSI men asked.
Gently Brennan shook her head no. Her voice came out in a low, hushed tone. "I want the body sent back to my lab."
The group looked back and forth at one another. "With all due respect, I-"
"No." There would be no arguing with her. "Send it there. We'll perform the autopsy."
Some time later Brennan excused herself outside. She leaned against her car while calling Cam, her boss and coroner.
"I'm having the body transported to the lab," she opened with.
Cam was incredulous. "What?"
"I want you to autopsy him."
"Dr. Brennan! There's no way-" her voice cracked in mid sentence. "He's my friend. I'm not comfortable-"
"I don't trust them." Brennan admitted. "His face is…" she couldn't even bring herself to say the words. "There's no saying its him. It has to be us."
Cam was quiet. Finally she granted her permission. Brennan hung up. She unconsciously went back inside to give the technicians instructions. A pain knocked around her heart. Booth was usually the one ordering his peers around.
Brennan finished up as fast as she could. Her mind was becoming clouded. Despite her firm resolve her emotions were getting the best of her. She climbed into the driver's seat of her car when Bartz flagged her down. Curiously she rolled down her window.
"I just got the call. Natalie's woken up. I figured you'd want to be there while I question her."
"You figured right."
Bartz studied her as though she were a wild animal. "You two are close, eh?"
"We're partners," was the only reply he got from her. She put her window back up. Once Bartz FBI issued SUV left the parking lot she followed.
There was so much she wanted to know. The woman must have had some answers. And Brennan would get them.
***
Brennan met Bartz in front of the hospital entrance. He guided her inside up to the appointed floor. Neither one said much to each other. Really, they'd only been brought together for one reason. Booth. Over all Brennan was still sizing up the man. She hadn't made a decision on his competence.
Together they walked into Natalie's hospital room. The petite woman was awake. She looked small in her over sized hospital bed. Her face and hands were beat up. Many contusions already were forming on her arms. Though she showed some interest in her two visitors, it quickly waned.
"Hi Natalie, I'm Agent Bartz with the FBI." He went through the usual routine of flashing his badge. "This is-"
"We know each other," Brennan cut him off.
"Right. Listen, I know this is difficult right now with everything you're going through, but I need to ask you some questions regarding the agent who disappeared with you, Seeley Booth."
Natalie's dark, dead eyes came sparkling to life. "I don't know anything!"
Bartz knelt down by her bed. "Tell me what happened."
Tears rained from her eyes as she spoke. "We were out having a drink. Well, more than a drink. We both got pretty hammered."
Brennan narrowed her sights. That didn't sound right. Booth's father had been a violent alcoholic. And so while he drank, he rarely, if ever, got drunk.
"We left the bar to take a walk. These guys just jumped out from nowhere and attacked us. Everything is just a blur." Natalie put her hands over her eyes.
"Can you tell me about what time this was?"
"I don't know, like ten or so." She choked back a sob. "Look, I don't know anything else. Just leave me alone, okay?"
"We'll talk some more when you're up to it," Bartz promised.
In her head Brennan did the math while she followed him out into the hallway. Booth didn't leave her office until nine thirty. There was absolutely no way he'd of been able to pick up Natalie and become all out drunk in a half an hour. Certainly not for a man of his size.
Something wasn't adding up. Natalie was lying. The question was, why?