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I don't own Bones.

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Entering Booth's office, Harris closed the door, grinned and sat down on the chair near the doorway, "So how's the girlfriend?"

His anger boiling over, Booth slammed a folder down on the desk and glared at his friend, "That isn't even remotely funny you dumb ass."

Shrugging his shoulders, Harris backed down, "Well at least Dr. Brennan knows that it's all bullshit."

His teeth grinding, he finally calmed down and sighed, "That's because she knows I love her and I'd never betray her, still its been embarrassing as hell. . . . Angela knows better, her Dad is a Rock God for crying out loud. I can't believe she did that to me and Bones."

Crossing his right leg over his left knee, Harris chuckled, "Angela is definitely a free spirit. . . So anyway, that body that you guys were called to look at the other day may belong to Connie Murphy. She was reported missing by her husband a week before the body was found. She was last seen in the general area where the body was found so at least we can provide Dr. Brennan with some DNA to try to compare the remains to."

"Shit, the last thing I heard Bones was still trying to piece the body bits together." Disgusted, Booth shook his head, "Most of the bits aren't bigger than a quarter. Bones says that a few of the pieces are about as big as a silver dollar, but not enough of them to really matter."

Scrunching his nose, Harris asked him, "Do they still think it was a wood chipper?"

Not sure, Booth continued, "We had a case a few years ago where the victim was chopped up with a wood chipper so she and her people do have some experience with that kind of thing . . . That case was amazing. They only had a few pieces and they were able to find out who the victim was. They just blow me away sometimes. Bones and those squints make me look pretty damn good, I have to tell you."

Laughing, Harris shook his head, "It's too bad you're the only one that can work with them. They drive the other agents nuts."

Booth placed his folder back down and corrected his friend, "Bullshit, Bones likes you and will work with you and I don't hear you complaining when you do work with her either."

Holding his hand up, Harris conceded, "That's true, I do like Dr. Brennan, but that's because I understand her and I realize she's smarter than the average bear. Most of the agents around here don't like to look stupid and she has a tendency to make everyone look like idiots once in a while. I know one thing though, some of those interns she has make me so mad I'd probably threaten to kill them if I had to work with them all of the time. They have no respect for authority."

Leaning back on his chair, Booth reminded him, "I don't work with the interns. . . . Oh, before I forget to tell you, Scotland Yard found the lunatic that tried to kidnap Rebecca. She says it was someone connected to the company that her company is going after. She wants Parker to stay with me for the rest of the school year and for the summer."

"Alright, that sounds good." Uncrossing his legs, Harris leaned forward, "She isn't quite the bitch I thought she was."

Booth frowned and thought it over, "She can be pretty ruthless when she has to be. Believe me."

Standing, the younger man frowned, "I have a follow-up interview I need to get to. Let me know if you need my help with your case."

Watching his friend leave the room, Booth studied the almost empty bullpen.

Oooooooooooooo

Stepping up onto the platform, Cam walked over to where Brennan and Hodgins were working. "Good, I see the bones have been cleaned."

Disgusted with tiny pieces, Hodgins glanced at his supervisor and complained, "This is even worse than I thought it was going to be. It's going to take a lot of man hours to get this . . . this skeleton put together."

Studying the pieces, Brennan remarked, "That's true, but it can be done. I think I would like Dr. Edison and Mr. Nigel-Murray to help me in my endeavors. They have a very keen eye and should be able to do an adequate job while I supervise."

A little smile gracing her lips, Cam replied, "I'll call them and let them know they've been moved up in the rotation. Booth sent over some DNA samples of Connie Murphy, a woman reported missing over a week ago. It's possible that she might be our victim. I'm running the tests right now."

Please with the news, Brennan responded, "Good. Once we've put the skeleton together I am hoping we will be able to determine cause of death and what was used to dismantle the body."

Holding up a tray, Hodgins informed them, "When the bones were cleaned I was able to recover some materials with it. Whoever chopped up our victim didn't bother to take her clothes off so I have a lot of fiber to work with. I also have a lot of insects and flora to look at it. I'm hoping it will pinpoint where the body was dismantled but that may not be possible. Some of the animals in the area where the body was dumped ate some of the victim so I'm pretty sure we don't have a complete skeleton. I collected animal waste from the crime scene just in case it contains some of our victim."

Grateful that they had a plan and some leads, Cam nodded her head, "Good, I'll let Booth know what we're working on and our status." Turning to leave, Cam stopped and turned back, "Please don't mention the name of the victim to anyone outside the Lab. Booth wants to keep her identity under wraps until we're 100 percent certain of her identity. If this really is Connie Murphy then we will be under a complete news blackout and all information about this case will be handled by the FBI."

Suspicious, Hodgins asked, "How come? Why should they get all the glory?"

Glancing at the piles of bones bits, Cam replied, "Connie Murphy is the daughter of Morgan Murphy."

An icy chill run down his back, Hodgins turned to stare at the white bits on the table, "Oh my God . . . . You're right, let's let the FBI handle the PR. Fine by me."

Not sure what was going on, Brennan asked Cam, "Who is Morgan Murphy?"

Expecting the question, Cam explained, "Morgan Murphy runs a criminal organization out of Massachusetts. He keeps a pretty low profile, but he's considered to be very ruthless and someone not to cross. If this is his daughter then whoever did this is going to have a very dangerous man looking for him or her. This is probably not going to end well."

Oooooooooooooo

Leaving the pharmacy, Booth walked towards his car, checking the contents of his bag. As he approached his SUV he noticed a man leaning against it. Stopping a few feet from the intruder, Booth placed his bag on the ground and moved his hand near his gun, "Can I help you?"

Calmly, the stranger moved away from the truck and held up his hands, "I just want to talk, that's all Agent Booth."

Now alert that the stranger knew who he was, Booth pulled his gun and pointed it at the man, "Do we have a problem?"

Shaking his head, the stranger frowned and kept his hands up, "Not at all. I wore a t-shirt and no jacket so you could see that I'm not armed. I'm going to slowly turn around and I'm going to raise my shirt so you can see you're safe." Moving his hands slowly downward, the stranger pulled up his shirt and then slowly turned in a circle. Once he was facing Booth, he lowered his shirt and then held his hands out from his sides, "Okay?"

Still suspicious of the man, Booth holstered gun and asked him, "Who are you and what do you want from me?"

Glancing around at the few people on the sidewalk who were pretending that they hadn't seen a gun wielding man earlier, the stranger shook his head, "My name is Roy Carter. My wife is . . . was . . . is Connie Morgan. I have a friend that gave me a heads up that you may have found her."

Enlightened, Booth picked up his pharmacy bag and moved closer to his truck, "Whose your friend?"

"Sorry, that would get a whole bunch of people in trouble." Glancing away and then back, Roy sighed, "Please Sir, have you found my wife?"

Unhappy that someone in the FBI or the Jeffersonian was a snitch, Booth shook his head, "We don't know Mr. Carter. A body was found a few days ago and my people are trying to identify her. If someone told you the victim was your wife then they did you a disservice. We really don't know who the victim is right now."

Nervously, biting his bottom lip, Roy stared intently at Booth, "How long do you think it will take you to find out?"

Not really sure, Booth explained, "It will depend upon the people that are working on the identification. Probably two or three days for the DNA test maybe more. I'm not an expert on that sort of thing. Once they know then I'll know. If it is your wife, then you will be contacted."

Clearing his throat, Roy hated to ask but did, "Why . . . why don't you just let me look at her? Or her father or her mother? I'm sure one of use could tell you if it's Connie or not."

He felt sorry for the man and he knew it was going to be terrible when the man and his family when they found out the condition of his wife's body, "I'm sorry Sir, but her body is in really bad shape. You won't be able to identify her by looking at what's left of her body."

His hand slapping against his mouth, as if to keep from throwing up, the distraught man exclaimed, "Oh my God!" His hand trembling, Roy stared in horror at Booth, "Oh my dear lord."

Sympathetic, Booth commiserated, "I'm sorry, Sir. Whoever told you about our victim should have waited and let us come to you if it is your wife. . . . If the victim is Connie, I will contact you."

Nodding his head, the anguished man stepped away from the truck. "Thank you." Walking rapidly down the sidewalk, he soon turned a corner and disappeared from Booth's sight.

Oooooooooooooo

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