The Death in the Vow
Chapter 7
Susan H.
Booth rang at 7:30 the next morning. Brennan buzzed him in and left her door open so he could walk in when he got to her door. She was closing her computer, and shoving papers into a file when he found her.
"You're already working?"
"I was just looking some things over." She said and shoved everything into a bag.
"Did you get some rest?"
"I did. I didn't wake up until 5:30, so I had a full night's sleep. Did you sleep well?"
She watched Booth formulate his answer. Freshly shaved, in his crisp clean shirt and suit, his presence filled her apartment. Yes, he is definitely a well formed man, She thought.
"I slept well enough. Lots of dreams though."
He turned and walked out. Brennan followed.
In the SUV Brennan said, "You certainly dream a lot."
"Everybody dreams. It's a scientific fact."
"True enough. I just don't remember my dreams."
"Never?"
"Well, I did dream that you carried a pink thermos and grew breasts."
"Really?"
"No."
"Still moping about the thermos huh?"
"I love my thermos. As a matter of fact, it's with me and full of delicious dark roast."
"Mine is full of soup."
"Canned soup?"
"Well, yes."
"Does it contain MSG?"
"Don't know. Don't care."
"You don't deserve the pink thermos."
"No, I really don't."
***
Booth followed Brennan into her office and stood as she flicked through her in-box. The phone rang, "Brennan"
"Dr. Brennan, can you and Booth please come to Angie's office?"
"We'll be right there," she hung up, "Cam needs us in Angie's office."
Cam and Angie were staring at the large computer screen, and Angie made adjustments.
"We found something," Cam said. "Angie digitized the stains on the mother's shirt. Gotta love polyester.
"Anyway, it appears to be a man's shirt. Maybe pregnant mama needed something new to wear, and her loving kidnapper provided one of his own." Angie said.
"That's a clue," Booth said, "It could give us the man's size."
"If it's actually the kidnapper's shirt," Brennan said.
"Anyway, I've been running the images through different filters, eliminating colors and intensities, etcetera, to see if we find any patterns. I found this."
Angie hit a button and a picture popped up.
"What does that look like?" Cam asked.
Booth tilted his head and said, "A tree."
"Yes!" Cam said with her finger in the air. "Only not a real tree. It's a placenta print."
"Huh?" Booth asked.
"I learned this my summer following Phish. Some natural childbirthers, lay the placenta on a white piece of paper as a memento of the birth. The resulting print looks a lot like a tree."
"Yuck," Booth said.
"I think it's a beautiful idea. I'll probably do it when I have kids." Angela said.
"Back on task, you see the "trunk" or cord ends here, at this large spot which is probably cord blood, which indicates that it has been cut. These marks here," Cam pointed to a thin wavy strip on each side of the cord, "suggest the cord was tied with string or something similiar. Also, there would be much more cord blood, or a much bigger spot at the base of the tree if it hadn't been tied off."
"Why bother tying and cutting the cord if the baby is dead?" Brennan asked.
"Exactly," Cam said. "Now, look at this ragged edge here. A chunk of the placenta is missing, and a rather large one at that. The doctor or midwife always inspects the placenta for missing pieces. That's how they know if anything got left behind. This large chunk was probably left behind and also supports the placenta abruption theory."
"It gets more interesting," Angie said, and pulled up another picture.
"Do you recognize this?" Cam asked.
"It looks like a tiny hand," Booth said.
"Yes, and if you look here," she pointed, " a much lighter print of the same hand, with a smear in between the two hands. This indicates the hand moved. You can make out the profile of the baby's face here," Cam pointed.
"This child lived. There would be no reason to sever the cord, or lay the baby on the mother's chest if it was dead. Tina met her daughter. She must have died soon afterward."
"That's my conclusion also," Cam said.
The bloody portrait of new life cast a spell of silence in the room.
"Okay, we've got to find that baby." Booth broke the silence.
"No," Brennan said, "We've got to find that six-year-old."
She left and Booth followed. In her office, she found a large brown envelope in her in-box. She sat down and opened it.
"Booth, I found the six-year-old."
Booth turned and stared at her.