Two
Chapter 7

I was no closer to understanding the paradox than I was in Denver. Hodgin's report, Zach's analysis and Angela's facial reconstruction all pointed to the same conclusion. The remains were indeed Janice Langford and her son Jordan. Both died two months ago from the same injuries inflicted on the Wilsons. I held an x-ray up to the light.

"I don't think it's changed since the last time you looked at it," said Angela. She came into my office and flopped into the chair across from my desk.

"I know." I slid the film back into the envelope, sealed it and signed across the flap. "Science can't lie. But Langford was at work three days ago. She took her son to the doctor's the same day. How can that be true when they were already dead?"

Angela's nose crinkled as she considered my dilemma. "Can I vote for zombies?"

"Ange." I gave her a look.

"Then imposters are definitely the way to go," she said. "Maybe plastic surgery."

"For Wilson, maybe. But for Langford? She worked part-time as a waitress."

"Why part-time? Wouldn't she need all the money she could earn for her son?"

I sorted through the paperwork until I found Booth's report on his phone conversations with Brown. "Her boss offered her extra shifts but she turned down too many. He said she was unreliable that way, so he stopped asking."

Angela frowned at me. "That takes care of why, but not why, if you know what I mean."

I shook my head. "Brown didn't know why she was inconsistent about accepting extra shifts."

"How'd Booth take it when you told him?"

"What do you think?" As if on cue, my cell phone rang. "Brennan," I said.

"Bones," said Booth. "You're sure, you're absolutely sure those two bodies we found were the Langfords."

"Yes, Booth, I'm sure." Angela watched me closely as I spoke.

"And your team pegs their T.O.D. as two months ago?"

"Based on the detritus, insect casings --" I had faxed him the report over an hour ago.

"Two months." His sigh filled my ears. "Bones, I've got Singh and Brown in for questioning at the local bureau office."

"Why?"

"Because someone's lying big time, that's why. Maybe a couple of someones."

"You think Singh and Brown are involved?"

"Well, unless you're wrong -"

"I'm not." I knew our work would past muster with the most stringent of peer reviews.

"Then they're in on it somehow."

"It's almost as if we're talking about two different people," I said. "Booth?" He had hung up.

He rang back a few minutes later. "A rookie mistake. I don't know what the hell I was thinking."

"What mistake?" I had never heard him angry at himself before.

"Showed them the photos. They'd never seen Langford before." He made an explosive sound of exasperation. "Can Angela do her thing over the phone? From the conference room?"

I relayed his question.

"I'll have them hook up from here to there," he said when I confirmed her answer. At my nod, Angela left without further delay.

"She's on her way," I said.

"Hang on." I heard him instruct someone nearby. "Bones?"

"Still here."

"I deserve to be demoted."

Uncertainty kept me silent. Empathy was not one of my strong points.

"If you hadn't said what you said --"

"I've done that," I said with sudden insight.

"What?"

"I once identified a set of remains incorrectly. I made an assumption." The incident had defined my career. "I had to go back to the family later and tell them I was wrong, that their daughter really was dead. They were so angry, Booth. So angry and upset." My memories of the moment remained crystal clear. "I delayed the investigation by a month. At least here we've lost a day at most."

I could almost hear him thinking. "Thanks for that," he said finally. He cleared his throat. "Have Angela fax me the images when she's done."

"Won't they expect you back at the office tomorrow?"

"Fraudulent identities, double homicide, a possible serial involving children? I think I can make the case for staying in Denver a little longer. What about you?"

"My regular work," I said. Like Booth, I had gone to Denver on my own time. Down the hall, I could hear the murmur of Angela's voice as she pieced together a face for Booth to pursue. "What are you going to do?"

"Find out who's been impersonating the Langfords and why."

"Luck," I said. The twists and turns of this case were not promising.

"Maybe I won't have any more remains to send your way."

"Maybe you're wrong and it's not a serial," I said without optimism.

"I'm not wrong," he said.

"How do you know?"

"Because I can feel it with my gut."

"I'll be here," I said.

"I know, Bones."

I sat there for a long time afterwards, overwhelmed by the horror of human nature gone awry. Gone were my objectivity and distance. I had lost them amid the faded hopes of a little backyard filled with toys and neglected flower pots.

"Dr. Brennan?" It was Zach.

Adrift in memories, it was all I could do to look at him.

He came in, his face filled with apparent concern. "Dr. Brennan? Are you okay?"

I managed to chase away my thoughts with a deep, cleansing breath. "I'm fine," I said.

He seemed less than convinced. "There's a Dr. Kellar wanting to see you. He's from John Hopkins."

"What kind of doctor?"

"Medical. Pediatrics," replied Zach. "With the Department of Medicine. He's in Dr. Goodman's office."

"Why didn't Goodman page me?"

"He did." Zach hovered nearby as I stood. "You didn't answer. He sent me to find out why." He hesitated. "I think I can guess."

"Don't guess," I said as I headed out.

"Focus on the details," he called out. "Helps keep distance." It was good advice. Mine, to be exact.

I was not certain I could follow it.