When You Come Around
Disclaimer: Not my property.
A/N - - So you people have encouraged me to continue. I suppose I will. I swear, I'm not telling you what that fight was about. You'll have to keep wondering… wait till later chapters. You'll find out sooner or later. 'M' for gore, and blood and all that disgusting, gruesome crap.
Chapter Three: Keeping it Down
The drive was endless. The only stops were for gas. That being Booth and Brennan's only opportunity to stretch their achy limbs. Brennan kept herself occupied in the passenger seat by going over some of the files that she received from Booth. She didn't explain any of the gruesome details that she came across to Booth. It would only upset him, and he had probably looked at it already. The drive was mostly silent except for the soft humming of the SUV driving over he road. They were both comfortable, lost in their own thoughts.
Occasionally, Brennan would glance over at her partner. It disturbed her that he looked so troubled. At one point, Booth let out a quiet grunt. She looked up at him, and he pointed to the side of the road. She followed his direction. Three deer grazed on the grass. She didn't understand the importance it had until she saw the foal that the mother stood in front of protectively.
"It's amazing that it's a mother's instinct to protect her young." Booth finally spoke.
"That is the truth for the most part." Brennan replied.
"Why do you say that?" He asked.
"My mother abandoned me." She stated simply. He looked at her, long and hard. Trying to read the woman before him. To no avail.
"If you knew how to play poker, you'd be an ideal candidate. You're impossible to read." He said, changing the subject to a lighter one.
"Who says I don't already know how to play poker?" She questioned.
"I don't know, you just seem to strike me as a 'chess playing' type of person."
"Because I'm a scientist?" She seemed to be getting a little excited.
"Because you're always using logic, and chess is a logical type of game." He answered. Touché. He thought, Don't even try to corner me.
"We'll have to play poker sometime then." She looked at him. He smirked, but didn't look at her.
As they neared their destination, Booth's cell phone rang.
"So we do have service." He flicked the phone open, "Booth."
He mouthed the words, 'It's Cullen' to Brennan. She nodded.
"About an hour. Give or take. Why?" He said into the device. Long pause……
"Okay, have you got a team in the area?" he asked.
"Good. Send one right away. Secure the building. Tell them not to touch anything until we get there...No, nothing. I want to oversee this… Cullen, I will send for the forensics team." He looked at Brennan as he said, "I'm pretty picky on who is there and who is not."
He closed the phone. His expression grim.
"What was that about?" Brennan asked, eager to know.
"We have a murder case on our hands." He said.
"Don't be vague. Tell me about it." She pressed.
"It may have no relation to the remains that were found, but a potential slaughterhouse has been discovered… Somebody called in anonymously. This is getting weird." He said.
"What about the slaughterhouse? Booth, I'm not following."
"The call to the police was made anonymously last night at approximately 11:20, probably on a disposable cell, or a payphone in the area. It was made by an assumed young male. The Jefferson County Police investigated the address given, and happened to come across exactly what the caller described. A human slaughterhouse." He explained.
"Did Cullen say where?" she asked.
"Not where we're going. It's closer. A town called Dixon, I think." He sped up to get to the crime scene faster…
"Phone Cullen on my cell, ask him for specific directions. And tell him to notify the squints." She did just that.
They drove up a long gravel driveway. It was forested, and it was about fifteen minutes southwest of Dixon. The property was over two hectares, easily. Only one building stood. It was almost like a barn, except it was much smaller. Farm equipment was scattered about the piece of land. It was old, and rusty.
They were greeted by a younger version of Booth. He had boyish features although he was handsome, built, and tall. He seemed more eager and less intelligent.
"Agent Booth! Dr. Brennan! I'm Agent Mike Barnes, leader of the tactical team that was dispatched. The area is secured. We have an older man in custody. He claims to have been walking the perimeter of the property, and he does it frequently."
"Thanks Mike, I think we'll take a look at the scene first." Booth said. The young tact team leader nodded and went off to go about his business. Brennan walked toward the building and was given a pair of gloves and some booties by a man nearly twice her age.
"Gene! How are you! It's been a long time!" Booth greeted the man.
"Seeley Booth! I'll be damned! I'm great! How's a young gun like you been? Married yet?" The old man asked.
"Nope, but Parker sure is getting big though. Going into grade two." Booth proudly said. He looked at Brennan, and back at Gene.
"Bones, this is Gene Thomas. An old partner of mine… Literally. Gene, meet Dr. Temperance Brennan. She's a forensic Anthropologist." They shook hands, and Booth continued, "So Gene, have you got a forensic team here to gather evidence?"
"You bet m'boy!" He handed Booth, gloves and booties, "Trust me, it's not a pretty sight." Booth and Brennan nodded. They walked toward the building, and an unpleasant smell began to fill their nostrils. An evidence gathering team had been dispatched, so there were already people entering the barn. The gloves and booties were put on, and they went in.
The horror that stood before them, shocked even Brennan. Human remains were scattered about. A human head that had been beaten and shot at was hanging from a wall by a nail through the eye and an ice pick in the forehead. Blood was splashed on the walls and on the floor. A saw hung from a nail beside the head. Brennan made a mental note of obtaining the saw personally. Machines of torture were similar to those used in a butcher shop. A meat slicer that was caked in blood had a nude corpse on the table. The waist down had been brutally hacked off The top of the head had been sliced into, and several fingers were missing. The lower half of the body dangled from a rope on the rafter. It looked as though the killer used it as a pinata. It was bruised, and the legs were bent at impossible angles. The gender was unable to be determined by looking. Across from the slicer, a wood chipper had part of an arm reaching out of it. It faced a wall, so blood and guts had been shot out on to it.
Booth looked at Brennan, who decided going for dinner would be out of the question. She looked back up at him.
"I have to leave." He choked out. The smell was that of rotting corpses, bitter and heavy, like vomit. It affected the tastebuds. The metallic smell of blood that accompanied the corpse odor, made the air reek like garbage that had been sitting too long in the heat. But the smell of death was still eminent.
Brennan nodded in understanding. She heard Booth run outside the building and heave. He coughed and shook violently. He had seen some gruesome things in his life, but that was by far the worst. Nightmares would most definitely ensue. He walked back to the SUV to have a drink of water to try and wash the taste of throw up and death from his mouth. He knew that this was only the beginning of a horrific murder case.
A/N--- Enjoy that? Gross huh?