Here's a nice, long update for you guys. I'm having so much fun writing this! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 4
Booth stood on the front porch of the beach hut and watched the sun rise over the ocean. Jared had told him about this "magical place" on Phuket Island long ago, but Booth never had the desire to visit Thailand until he suddenly found himself needing to disappear from his world in D.C.
The decision to leave had been swift, impulsive. He called Rebecca to tell her that he wouldn't be around for a while, sent Hacker a quick email to notify him that he'd be taking at least a month off (Hacker owed him big time anyway), and used his FBI credentials to book the first flight out.
Now, four days later, he was sitting by the Indian Ocean, and no one in the world knew where he was. And he was very, very happy about that.
He was glad to be so far away, with no connection to his world back home. His phone didn't work here, he had left his laptop at his apartment in D.C., and the only way he could contact the outside world was via a very expensive pay phone in the lobby. He had chosen this sequestered existence because he was worried that, if he brought his gadgets with him, he would cave and do something stupid, like call Bones.
Bones. He punched the rail on the porch deck at the thought of her. He could not face her. He was ashamed of himself for his weakness in kissing her, but livid with her for her latest rejection of him. He was tired of her "issues." Had she not, just a few months ago, told him that she was regretful of pushing him away? He couldn't figure her out, and was tired of trying. The need to exorcise her from his soul was overwhelming, and he clawed at the confines of his heart like a caged animal desperately trying to escape the very thought of her.
When was he going to learn that she did not want him? He cursed himself for his stupid, drunken behavior, and cursed her for her stupid resolve to cling to her damn emotional walls. He would have slept with her, he realized. He would have taken her into his apartment, Hannah's essence still lingering there, and shown Bones how he felt about her – how he knew he'd always felt about her. What kind of man had he become?
Hannah was a diversion. He knew that now. Deep soul-searching had commenced almost immediately upon his arrival on the island, and he was sick over the person he saw himself becoming. His need to prove that he could be that guy – that family man – had almost caused him to marry second-best. Thing is, she didn't want him. Thank God she didn't, or he'd be planning a wedding right now to a woman that was so wrong for him. But Bones didn't want him, either, and Rebecca hadn't before that. He could not push past this revelation, and the self-pity that set in as a result was overwhelming. He saw himself for who he was now: a man driven by a need to be needed, a man lacking principle, a man who cut people off when they couldn't give him what he needed. He was pathetic.
Sure, he could go back to D.C., pick up his life as usual, and try to be happy. Hang out more with old Army buddies, bang hot chicks he met at the bar, spend more time with Parker. The problem with that was…Bones. Once again. It always came back to her and the fact that she was absolutely embedded in his life. But as he envisioned this lifestyle for himself, it looked very, very attractive to him. He had always been the responsible one. Screw that. Hadn't seemed to work for him; hell, even Jared, the one who could never seem to get his act together, was married now. Jared was the one who had it all. Booth had nothing to show for his years of responsibility and commitment.
He needed a fresh start. He needed to extricate himself from this toxic swill of an existence he now led. Screw Bones, screw loving her, screw the Jeffersonian, screw murder, screw it all. It was time for some damn happiness and hope. Things were going to change. And, he realized, he didn't need her permission to make these changes. This was his life, and he needed her out of it.
He felt peace settle in his heart at the mere idea, and it felt good. He felt like he was making progress. His shoulders straightened with new resolve as he drank the last of his coffee. This time off was going to be good. He decided that it was time to shake off the angst, enjoy all that Phuket (and its nightlife – he smirked at the thought!) had to offer, and in a couple of weeks, he'd call Hacker and discuss his future at the FBI.
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Three weeks had passed, and Brennan still had not heard from Booth. Phone calls, emails, and a few stops at his apartment on her part had netted nothing. He had simply disappeared. His colleagues didn't know where he was. Jared hadn't heard from him. She worried about him, but she kept her mind occupied with work as much as possible. Going home at night proved impossible. Reminders of him lingered everywhere she looked in her apartment, and, as a result, she pushed herself to work later and later, and stayed at the lab as much as possible. Angela reprimanded her for spending the nights on the couch in her office, but she insisted that she was better off there.
They had identified the body in Agent Page's case almost immediately; dental records had identified the victim as 23-year-old Carrie Reininger, the granddaughter of the couple whose garage she was discovered in. Cause of death had been determined to be extreme blunt force trauma by stoning, an ancient method of execution still used today in some Islamic countries where Sharia law is practiced. What was perplexing was that Carrie Reininger was Caucasian, and according to her grandparents, involved in a mainline Christian church. That the victim ended up in her grandparents' garage was also troubling, as if it was meant to send a message to them. This was no random act of violence. It was focused, specific, and purposeful. The trail to her killer was cold, and Brennan was reviewing the file once again to look for anything they might have missed that might provide a clue regarding who had done this to Carrie Reininger.
Brennan sensed someone approaching, and looked up from her notes as Cam poked her head through the doorway of her office.
"Dr. Brennan, do you have a minute? Agent Page is here. He's brought us another body."
Brennan rubbed her temples and stood. She was not in the mood to deal with Page and his attitude. She nodded to Cam and followed her out to the platform, where a swarm of agents were busy transferring the remains and sharing information with the Jeffersonian team. Agent Page was already on the platform overseeing the transfer, and, spotting Cam and Brennan, he made his way down the stairs to meet them.
"Dr. Saroyan." He shook Cam's hand, looking grim. "We've found another body. Same m.o. as our last vic: burned body found in a garage. The woman who made the discovery thinks it's her daughter."
Cam frowned. "We'll get right on it, Agent Page. We'll do everything in our power to identify and see if there's a connection between these two victims."
"I appreciate that, Dr. Saroyan."
Brennan bristled in his presence. He had yet to even acknowledge her standing there.
"Agent Page, I've been reviewing the Reininger file, and, while I have no evidence to support this theory, it seems as though the killer wanted to send a message to her grandparents. Reininger was stoned to death. That is a very specific and unique way to kill someone. If we find the same cause of death in this second victim, it could point to a religious group or, at the very least a murderer with religious motivations. Whether these murders were meant as revenge or as a…punishment of some sort directed at the parents, we need to determine the connection. I'd like to go with you to reinterview the parents. I believe that my anthropological expertise could be of value."
"Dr. Brennan, I have no interest in your theories. My team is already working these and other angles, and we have experts in Sharia law on the case as we speak. I need you to simply identify, find cause and manner of death, and we'll take it from there."
He turned and walked back up the platform and resumed the oversight of the transfer.
Cam was furious. "Dr. Brennan, thank you for your insights. Page's lack of respect is completely unacceptable. I have a meeting with Hacker in an hour; you can bet that I'll be speaking to him regarding Agent Page. I know this is hard for you, and I appreciate your commitment to the case in spite of being sidelined by this…Philistine."
Brennan smiled and thanked Cam for her support. She was about to make her way up the stairs to the platform when Cam touched her elbow.
"Dr. Brennan, wait. I just want you to know that, while I don't know what's going on with Booth, I know that this must be a difficult time for you. You've been putting in some long hours, and I think you need some… well, frankly, some 'girl' time. I'd really like to take you out to lunch today."
Brennan paused, almost giving into her default response of refusal, but if she was being honest with herself, she needed the break. She and Cam were not close, but she sensed an understanding from Cam that she hadn't considered before.
"I'd love to, Cam. Thank you."
Cam's face lit up, surprised and pleased at Brennan's acceptance. "Great! I will meet you at the Diner as soon as I finish with Hacker. It'll be 12:30 or better before I can get over there, if that's okay."
"That's fine, Cam. It'll give me time to get a preliminary examination completed, and I can have the interns work on cleaning the bones while I'm out."
Cam nodded and returned to her office. Brennan made her way to the platform, where Hodgins was collecting the particulates Clark and Wendell had set aside for him.
"Dr. B.! I might have some interesting evidence here. Wendell found what appears to be the exoskeleton of an insect stuck to the victim's parietal. Hopefully it will lead us to the original crime scene."
"Good work, Dr. Hodgins. Let me know what you find."
Hodgins nearly skipped with joy down the steps, and Brennan smiled. He was almost childlike in his passion for insects. It was endearing.
The team was just getting organized in their investigation when Brennan walked up to the table.
"Wendell, Clark, what do we have so far?" she asked clinically, snapping on her gloves as she approached.
Wendell and Clark both looked downcast. Wendell answered first:
"Dr. Brennan, it looks remarkably similar to our last victim. Victim is female. Same fracture patterns on the skull, clavicle, sternum, humerus, and ribs, indicating that she was buried from the waist down and struck repeatedly from all sides with blunt force. Cause of death is extreme trauma to the skull, but this one blow in particular to the temporal looks to be the one that finished her off."
"Thank you, Wendell. That was fast."
"It sort of helped that we've seen this before," Clark said.
"At any rate, I'd like you both to finish up your report, and then get the skull reconstruction finished so that Angela can work on identifying the remains."
They nodded their understanding, and Brennan left to find Angela.
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Hodgins caught Brennan as she passed by his area looking for Angela.
"Dr. B! I've identified the exoskeleton!" He was obviously proud of his find.
"Wonderful, Dr. Hodgins. Have you gained any insight on the crime scene?"
"They don't call me 'King of the Lab' for nothing!"
"Dr. Hodgins. Your findings?"
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "The insect is an Asian stink bug, also known as the brown marmorated stink bug. It is native to China, Japan, or North Korea, and was first discovered here in the states a decade ago. Thing is, in the past year, it has been particularly bothersome to apple growers, wreacking havoc on crop farmers and fruit growers in Maryland's northern tier counties and West Virginia."
"That is indeed helpful, Dr. Hodgins. Thank you." He beamed at her affirmation. She smirked back in spite of herself. Her fondness for Hodgins had grown over the years, and especially now that he was taking such good care of Angela. He was good for her. Brennan was grateful to him for that.
Brennan turned to go. "Oh, Dr. B, I think Angela is looking for you. She just got back from lunch. She's in her office now."
"Thank you. I'll find her."
Brennan hurried to Angela's room, finding her hunched over her computer. Angela addressed Brennan without looking up.
"Our victim is Stacy White, aged 28. Didn't have to do the facial reconstruction. DNA confirmed it. It looks like she has a similar background to Carrie Reininger: Caucasian, single, college grad, not very active in the community but a regular churchgoer, stayed to herself. I'm still trying to figure out if there's a connection somewhere. So far, I'm coming up short."
Brennan sighed. "Thanks, Ange. I feel so trapped here, not able to gain insight from the families and the background they can provide. Just do what you can."
"Yeah, well, my plan is to crack this before Special Agent Douchebag and his team do. What's in the water over there, anyway? They've all got something majorly jammed up their asses. Frankly, I'm sick of them all."
"I couldn't agree more, Ange. Cam is with Hacker right now, hopefully setting him straight on a few things. I'm sure things will get better for us once she brings him in to the situation."
Brennan excused herself, headed to her office, and grabbed her bag. It was early and she was sure that Cam wouldn't be finished with her meeting, but she wanted to get out of the lab for a while and clear her mind.
The sky was dazzling, and while the air was still cool, the sun felt warm on her face. She decided to walk to the diner. Simply being outdoors lifted her spirits, and she made the decision then and there to try to get out of the lab each day for a break. It was necessary.
Halfway to the diner, Brennan's phone rang.
"Brennan," she answered.
"Sweetie. Why do you do that? You have Caller I.D. You know it's me calling."
Brennan laughed. "Sorry, Angela. I wasn't paying attention. Do you have something?"
"Actually, yeah. I checked Carrie's and Stacy's Facebook pages. Both of them list a common organization called 'Handmaidens of Mercy' under their favorite causes. This group is weird. I've done some checking, and it's pretty obscure. As far as I can tell, though, they're an extremist right wing group whose main purpose is to stage militant pro-life demonstrations. It looks like they're into God, guns, and babies. None of that is listed on their Facebook page, of course, but it's what I came up with when I dug a little further. I'll keep looking for more info."
"Good work, Angela. Let me know."
They signed off, and Brennan, who had arrived at the diner, went in and found a table.
Cam entered the diner exactly fifteen minutes later. She tossed her purse on the chair opposite Brennan and took off her jacket. "Well, it sounds like Hacker is pretty upset at Agent Page's harsh treatment of the fine people of the Jeffersonian. I think we'll be able to get you back out in the field, Dr. Brennan."
"Thanks, Cam. Although I am not sure that I want to spend extended amounts of time with Page. He is not all that pleasing to work with."
"Agreed. But at least we'll be allowed at crime scenes again."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, studying the menu to bridge the awkward gap in their conversation. Finally, Cam said, "So… how are you holding up? Have you… heard from him?" Then she blushed, thinking better of her decision to broach the subject of Booth. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to."
"It's alright. No. I have not heard from him. I honestly don't know what to think about it, Cam. I'm worried about him, because the last time I saw him, he was inebriated and out of his mind."
"Well, he's a trained sniper and is a very good agent. I don't think he's in any kind of trouble," Cam said. "It just seems a little extreme for him to go off the deep end just because things with Hannah didn't work out."
Brennan looked down at her hands, then decided to tell Cam everything, starting with the night outside the Hoover when Booth told her he wanted to gamble on "them," and ending with the events that took place in his hallway three weeks ago.
Cam listened intently, and then pursed her lips in thought. "So, this isn't about Hannah at all. It's about you. He's running from his feelings for you, just like he's done for the past year."
Brennan nodded. "I suppose you are right, Cam. I'm afraid that my actions have suggested to him that I want nothing to do with him."
"Dr. Brennan, if he had actually been paying attention, he would not have taken things that way at all. He hasn't been around enough to notice. I've known Seeley for a long time. When he loves, he loves with his whole heart. Sometimes that heart gets in the way of common sense, and he sometimes he gets ahead of himself and can't see that he's running roughshod over the other person. Maybe this time away will give him some fresh perspective."
Brennan was playing with her straw wrapper and pondering Cam's words when she felt someone standing at her shoulder. Cam looked up at their visitor and said, "Dr. Sweets! It has been awhile. Would you care to sit?"
Sweets looked pained. "Actually, yes. I have just learned some news, and I wanted to find Dr. Brennan before she heard it from another source. Do you mind?"
Cam raised her eyebrows. "No, not at all. Is everything okay?"
Sweets paused, then sat, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. He took a breath, then said, "Um, Dr. Brennan, have you heard from Booth at all?"
Brennan's blood ran cold. "No, Dr. Sweets. Please, what have you heard?"
"I received a memo this morning from the personnel department at the CIA requesting that Booth's psychological profile and all of his files be transferred to them. I immediately went to Hacker, who informed me that Booth is leaving the FBI. Apparently he has joined the counter-terrorism unit at the CIA in the homeland security division. He begins training at Camp Peary next week."
Brennan felt her extremities go numb and her heart rate spike. She looked at Cam, incredulous. "Cam, did you know about this? Did Hacker tell you?"
Cam shook her head. "I had no idea. Oh my god."
Brennan was devastated. Sweets looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan. I just thought someone should tell you. He's still out of the country, and apparently he is flying directly to Virginia from wherever he is, where he'll train for the next six weeks. He'll be cut off from civilian contact while he's training. After that, there's no telling where they'll send him. I'm using my connections to try and find him right now. I want to talk to him; I want to find out what's up with him. Do you want me to pass on to you his contact information when I find it?"
Brennan was only half listening. She stared out the window in a daze, unable to breathe, feeling as if the room was closing in on her.
Booth had not only run, but he had made it impossible for her to reach out to him. Seeley Booth had effectively erased himself from her life.
