"Hey, Bones…I found the gun…"
'Oh, where is it?"
"Cam is checking it for prints right now."
"Okay, great, so now what?"
"I don't know. It's a Tuesday morning. Something will come up I'm sure. How's my sweater coming?"
"I'm not knitting you a sweater, Booth"
"Aw…Bones, come on….hey, then you could get a dog! And you could knit him a matching sweater. Oh, yes, I can totally see you as one of those ladies who carries a little tiny dog in her purse like Paris Hilton."
"Who?"
"Bones…" Booth whined… "You know what? I'm not even going to go there…she's really worth explaining… "Hey, do you have a washcloth or anything?"
'No, why?'
"Well,
when I was just talking with Alicia McCoy, she had black paint on her
hands, and when I shook her hand, I got some on mine. I didn't
notice it till it dried, but…"
"Oh, well, I think I still have some wipes from when Andy was here. Here…let me help."
She came to wipe the paint off his hands.
"There…I got most…" she trailed off as she looked to see his eyes on hers.
"Thanks, Bones."
Cam came in to the office.
"Hey, guys, we've got results"
"Yeah? How many sets of prints?"
"Three, but that's not what's interesting."
"The gun also had wet paint."
"Let's go, Bones."
"Don't you want to see the results?'
'Don't need them. Thanks Cam!"
Cam stood at the doorway for a moment.
'Oh…well…you're welcome then."
They rushed through the theater to Alicia's office.
"FBI. Open up!"
Booth kicked the door to her office down when no one replied. No one was inside. Just then a flash of black ran past the window toward the entrance to the theater.
"Quick, Bones, on stage."
They raced to see where she might have gone, but couldn't find her.
"Bones, she's got to be here somewhere. You can't just disappear from a stage."
"Uh Booth?"
"Yeah?"
"How about this?'
Brennan realized she was standing on top of a trap door.
"Okay, so… I guess you can."
Gun poised, Booth stood ready while Brennan pried the trap door open. As soon as it was loose, it sprang back with a loud crack and a ton of smoke.
'Bones!"
"Booth, I'm okay, it's just a sublimation of a dense carbon dioxide substance."
"What?"
"It's dry ice." Alicia jumped up holding a switchblade. "Does she always ruin the fun?"
"Yeah, I do. It's kind of my job." Brennan stated.
"Alicia McCoy, you are under arrest for your part in the murder of Kyle Baxter." Booth
"You have no proof."
"You left paint on my
hands, the same paint found on the prop gun."
"Oh…well"
She pressed with her thumb and the blade to her knife popped out.
Booth ignored this and pulled out his handcuffs.
"Booth"
"Relax, Bones. This isn't a real knife. I saw it on the prop table the other night. They use it in the play. See? When you push on the tip, it folds back into here, but when you stab someone, it looks like it's going into the person."
"Pretty clever."
"Yeah, actually…but not clever enough to fool me."
"I'm surprised, Agent Booth."
"What I want to know
is why you did it."
"Well…you were right from the beginning.
I was jealous. It's why I was also sleeping with Matt. I was hoping
Kyle would get jealous. Plus…"
Just then a group of opera singers came on stage to warm up.
A large lady with two
long braids under a horned cap entered in a metal breastplate and
began singing.
"You know what that means, right, Bones?"
"It's
over?"
'Good
girl."
"Booth…for the last time…I'm not a
girl…Booth…Booth, stop laughing!"
"Bones…I'll catch up with you later. I'm taking her down to the station."
"Diner?'
"You know it, Bones."