Title:
Object of my Affection
Author:
Shannon - shannyfish
Disclaimer:
I do not own "Bones" or its characters, Fox does. This is merely
for entertainment purposes only.
Rating:
PG-13
Summary:
Booth and Brennan must struggle with not only the Grad Students
trying to take Zack's old position, but also help get through a
tragic end.
Warning:
Post Season Three - "Pain in the Heart". Would take place during
Season Four, probably mid to late. Warning! Do not start reading
this unless you plan on reading all…like…one hundred chapters (it
might be that many…might not…). This will be an epic/saga-type
fic and shall include all kinds of fun plot twists. The rating of
this story will most likely fluctuate, FYI.
Chapter 7 – "Family Ties"
Author's Note: okay, back from Colorado! Which is sad…really… We stayed in Fort Collins the last couple days and that area is really lovely. I'm hoping to eventually move there. Anyways, for now I'll have to deal with California and finishing my degree this year…
………………………
Lexington and East 86th
New York
Booth and Brennan immediately went to the club where William Collins was last seen. Though, it had been almost a year, they were still hoping for some kind of clue. Anything. Something. When they entered, though, Booth's small idea of hope came to a stop. It was dark and it was obviously not the same club name as it was a year ago. It was likely in a place like that that they could have a change in ownership every couple of months. He wouldn't be surprised at all. It was just how things worked there. It wasn't something that was supposed to make sense. It was just how life was…always changing…money coming and going…
Darkness wasn't the only thing present in the club. It was centered with a brightly lit bar that had glasses hanging everywhere that looked like they hadn't been quite washed. There were no barstools or any type of chair or table in the club, but just an extensive dance floor that reached until the small stage at one wall of the club. The name of the club was completely different inside from what the room mates had informed him. In bright blue lights above the stage, it now declared itself 'Club Blue Rain'.
"This is most likely going to lead us to a dead end," Booth mumbled to Bones. They knew who the victim was, that was a big step, but he really wanted to solve how William Collins died. Why had this happened to a young man who seemed to have such a put together life? He wanted answers, and he wanted to give the Collins answers…even if they weren't the ones they wanted. Something was better than nothing.
"There's someone there," Brennan pointed out a man bringing in a case of alcohol.
"F.B.I.," Booth announced with his badge out, directed at the man. "I need to talk to whoever is in charge."
"That would be Walter," the man responded. "He's in the back checking in what we're receiving. Give me a minute and I'll get him."
Booth waited there with Brennan, he noticed that she seemed to be taking in the club's atmosphere and anthropology-ing it. She always managed to point everything back to anthropology and how it worked in the world. He was sure that a night club was no different. She'd find some kind of social benefit and how it went back to like Africa or something. Booth noticed an older man emerge from where the other man had gone. He assumed that this was Walter.
"How can I help the F.B.I.?" Walter asked, slightly irritated to have his work interrupted.
"We wanted to know if you were here when this club was previously called 'The Green Umbrella'?" Booth asked.
"No, I just got the place like four months ago," Walter responded. "This place changes hands more than you can believe. I just hope I can last the next eight months. Being here for a year would be unbelievable."
"Do you know any of the previous owners?" Booth continued.
"No."
"We're investigating a murder of a college student that was last seen here a year ago…" Booth explained.
"Good luck with that, man. That sounds like a God sent miracle you're lookin' for," Walter said.
…………………………..
Jeffersonian
"I really think it was an accident," Hart insisted as the grad students with Angela's help with a holographic recreation of possible events went over things.
"If it was an accident, then why would someone hide the body?" Keller asked.
"Are you telling me that you wouldn't freak out if you were drunk and accidentally killed your best friend?" Hart asked in slight shock.
"Who said they were drunk?" Booth questioned as he and Brennan entered the room.
"College students," Miller supplied as if it were common sense.
"I don't understand," Brennan said. There was no evidence that said that they were drunk, or that Collins was with any one. Sure, someone had to move the body, but that didn't mean that the person was drunk. They could just be some psychotic serial killer.
"The weapon has to be something that's in plain sight between the club and their apartment," Hart said. "It's something that doesn't jump out at you that it would be the weapon…but it's something rather subtle. Maybe some kind of landmark…a statue…"
"I like her," Booth said with a small smile. "She thinks outside of the box."
"Thank you," Kensington Hart said feeling good about her ideas of what might have happened and having her thoughts somewhat validated. "But there are many possibilities."
"She's right," Miller agreed. "We need to scout out the area in order to give a more exact weapon match."
"You want to go out on a field trip?" Booth asked.
"It would help us better assess what killed the victim," Hart explained.
Keller shook his head, "The weapon might not even be around now. It could have been something moveable…or something that has been disposed of since then. It's a wild goose chase just because you two can't decide that this case should be considered cold. Not everything can be solved. Sometimes things have to just be left a mystery." Keller continued, "We have the victim's identity, that's a lot more than most get… We identified the victim, we did our job."
"But we didn't find out how," Hart argued.
"Or why," Miller added.
"Those are all vital pieces of what we do here," Booth explained.
"But we usually let Booth do the 'why' part," Brennan spoke up.
"So, you're not going to declare the case cold?" Keller asked slightly irritated.
"No," Booth said. "At least, not yet. We still need to talk to the parents…"
"They display a social connection that is not common in families that reside in most modernized locations such as the United States. In tribes, sometimes there is such a bond between families with children of similar ages, but one that exists here—" Brennan babbled on.
"Yeah, we know. It doesn't make sense," Booth concluded for her.
……………………..
Lyon Residence
Poughkeepsie, New York
The yard was beautifully decorated, well kept. The house itself looked out placed in his mind, but that was because Booth was far too used to the concept of New York with city life. The country in New York was like stepping into another state. It had taken them three hours with traffic to get there from the Jeffersonian and Booth wasn't especially looking forward to the trip home. It wasn't that he minded spending three hours stuck in the vehicle with Brennan, it was rather that he and Brennan had agreed to let the squints go out on their own kind of field trip to New York to try to track down possible weapons that had been used to kill the young William Collins. Booth knocked on the door and took a step back to stand with Brennan. He knew that she was mostly just curious about the odd social bond between the three families, and he was hoping that it would hold a key…
"Hello?" the woman who answered the door greeted.
The woman was in her mid to late fifties with dark hair that was lightly lined with silver. Her delicately wrinkled face held worry filled chocolate eyes that took them both in. He pushed a smile forward, "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, Ma'am, with the F.B.I.," he explained.
"Oh yes, come inside," she said politely and held the door open. "And is this your partner?" she asked just as politely.
"Yes, Doctor Temperance Brennan with the Jeffersonian Institute," Booth introduced as he and Brennan entered the home. When they were inside, Booth immediately came to a stop when he saw two other women in the room, one he recognized as Mrs. Collins. He and Brennan had delivered her the bad news of her son's demise only days earlier. "Um, we didn't mean to interrupt…" Booth said quickly.
"No, you're not interrupting Agent Booth," Mrs. Collins insisted. "We usually spend the afternoons together," she explained quietly.
Booth noticed that Mrs. Collins did still look extremely upset by her son's passing and the two other women seemed upset if not worried as well. He didn't think that any of the mothers had anything to do with William Collins' murder, but he still needed to talk to all of the families involved. "We're very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Collins, but we just needed to touch base with Max and Reese's families. I hope you understand," Booth said gently and softly. "We don't mean any disrespect."
"We understand," one of the women spoke up. "I'm Reese's mother."
"Mrs. Gelispee," Booth greeted, still quiet.
"Please, call me Greta," she told him.
"I'm Linda," Mrs. Lyon spoke up. "Max's mother."
Booth and Brennan asked questions and just talked with the women, and Booth could tell that even after their hour's time there, Brennan was still stumped. She wasn't any closer to figuring out what kind of social system they had and why it was there…or maybe she was just completely stumped, he was sure she'd spill it all to him once they were in the SUV. "Thank you so much for your time," Booth said again as Greta saw them to the door.
"If you have any more questions, you just let us know, Seeley," Greta said politely. She took his offered card and noticed an odd look on Doctor Brennan's face, "Is there something wrong?"
Booth noticed the look on Brennan's face; he put his hand on her lower back helping her out the door, "She always looks like that when her brain's like in overload. It's the curse of being so intelligent. I'll get her a candy bar and she'll be as good as new," Booth said and hurried out the door. "Thank you again."
"Of course," Greta called out a bit worried and watched them to their vehicle.
……………………
Booth's F.B.I. Issued Sports Utility Vehicle
Booth just stared at Brennan as he started up the car, "You looked like you were having a brain aneurysm or something. You know…you squints are not normal."
"Their societal grouping is odd," Brennan began.
"You've said that before," Booth pointed out.
Brennan frowned, "But I've seen the maternal social grouping live and I still don't understand it. They're bonded as if they're family…maybe even more so."
"Sometimes that kind of thing just happens, Bones."
"It's just…something that I can't explain."
"You know," Booth said, "I think that's a good thing." He pulled the vehicle out of it's paralleled parked position and moved it down the street.
"A good thing? How? I don't understand."
"Exactly."
"I don't understand."
"I think it's good for you not to be able to understand everything."
"I don't understand."
Booth just smiled and headed in the direction of Washington D.C. and the Jeffersonian Institute.
………………..
TBC…