Brennan woke up to the sound of Angela leaving he apartment, but left a note to say that she needed to go to the supermarket and that Booth had called and he'd be picking her up at 10:30am to question Wendy Myers.

The clock in the kitchen flashed 10:15. She quickly showered, changed and made herself a hot mug of strong coffee, needing all the caffeine her body could handle to recover from the five or six hours of sleep she'd gotten last night. No conclusions had been drawn, but it had simmered and she felt calmer today. Ironically, the one thing that should disturb her – the breaking and entering of her house – was the one thing she hadn't thought about at all. She had received threats on her life before and they had never panned out, why was this one any different?

She sipped her coffee and her thoughts were interrupted by the knocking of the door.

Booth appeared holding up an apple turnover. "Peace offering?"

She smiled, unable to stop herself, and accepted the pastry. "Thanks. You want some coffee?"

"Nah, I thought we could just get going, find Wendy, solve the case, catch the bad guy." He suggested.

"Ok." She grabbed her jacket, swallowed the last of her coffee, and followed Booth out of the apartment, locking Ange's door.

As they got in the car and began to drive off, Brennan felt she should apologise for her behaviour yesterday. "Booth, about yesterday, I'm sorry for the way I acted, it wasn't personal, I just had a lot on my mind."

"No, it's understandable." Booth said, though inwardly he thought it felt personal. "It's fine."

"Thanks. I think I just need you to back off a little, especially when Sully's around." Brennan told him.

"Bones," He scoffed. "Protecting you is part of the job, and if Sully has a problem with that, well, I'd rather him be pissed at me than you hurt."

"Why can't you two just get along? When I first met him you kept saying what a great guy he was, and now…" Brennan sighed.

"Maybe I just think you could do better." Booth replied, shrugging as if it was a general opinion, though an awkward silence followed.

"I just want you to trust that I can take care of myself sometimes." Brennan said, her thoughts, mostly on Booth's last comment.

"Ok," Booth nodded. "As long as you accept that I'm always gonna be looking out for you."

"Ok." She agreed, glad the air was cleared. The last thing she wanted was for Booth to be mad at her for the finality of this case and any future cases. "So, how far's the motel?"

"Another twenty five minutes." He replied.

The ten minutes were filled with small talk. Brennan felt like everything Booth said could be a clue as to whether Sully's accusation held any water. She still thought about his unanswered question, did she love him? Love is a big commitment and, obviously, a powerful emotion. She really liked Sully, and she was having a lot of fun, but love? She wasn't sure, which logically meant no, she wasn't in love with him. But she could, someday, and giving Sully up for a relationship that would always be the same with Booth seemed pointless too. She either allowed her and Sully's relationship to grow to love, or stayed with Booth to have the same working relationship she'd been fairly happy with for the past two years. Booth had made it clear that he didn't want personal and professional lives to collide, not that she wanted them to…

"Here we are." Booth pulled in to the run down motel, the building seemingly held together by mould alone. "She's number 19."

They climbed the stairs to the apartment and Booth knocked on the door. The door opened as far as the locking chain would allow. "Yes?"

"Wendy Myers?" She nodded feebly. "My name's Agent Booth of the FBI and this is Dr. Brennan." Booth introduced. "We need to speak with you."

She closed the door and reopened it, wordlessly allowing the to follow her into the shabby apartment. The girl was blonde, sickeningly thin and her eyes were very dull. "Miss Myers, we're here regarding Tony Garcia. He's dead, Miss Myers." Booth told her.

"What?" Her fragile frame seemed likely to crumble. "Tony's gone?"

"I'm sorry, we understand you were his…" Booth looked to Brennan for the right word.

"Girlfriend." Wendy finished. "He loved me, he said he was going to leave his wife for me. But now…" She sobbed.

"Miss Myers, you were reportedly the last person to be seen with Mr. Garcia." Booth informed her. "What happened after you left the Luxor on the night of the 19th May." Booth asked.

"Well, he came back here with me, and we were…together, and then he left at about 2am." She recalled. "Next door complained about the noise." She smiled to herself nostalgically.

"And then?" Brennan urged her to continue.

"And then nothing. He left and I never saw him again." She sniffed.

"You haven't seen him for over a month, where did you think he was?" Brennan asked skeptically.

"I feared," She took a deep breathe. "I thought he might have got together with his wife." Brennan and Booth looked to each other, raised eyebrows.

"Miss Myers, what do you know of Jack Brithe?" Booth asked.

"Tony played him a few times. Tony kept losing and Jack got angry when he couldn't pay. He hit him actually, the night Tony left. His face was so bruised." Wendy winced at the pain of remembrance, Brennan narrowing her eyes at her suspiciously, but remained silent.

"What about his wife?" Booth prodded.

"We never met, for obvious reason." She answered. "Tony never spoke about her to me."

"Well, that should be enough for now. Stay local in case we need to talk again." Booth warned. "Thanks for your time."

They walked out unaccompanied by Wendy to be met with the blinding sunshine of the outside world. "Booth, she lied." Brennan revealed. "Tony wasn't hit, there was no bruising on the bone."

"What, you think she did it? She's too small to stand up even to a granny." Booth pointed out.

"All I'm saying is that the facts are that Jack didn't hit Tony and Wendy lied." Brennan replied.

Before Booth could say anything, his phone rang. He answered, "Booth." Pause. "Really? You sure? Great, thanks." He turned to face Brennan. "One of your neighbours saw a woman entering your apartment yesterday afternoon, your height and hair color, carrying a red handbag. Your neighbour thought it was you, she never saw a face." Booth reported to her.

"Wait," Brennan submerged deep in thought. "A red handbag? Mrs. Garcia had a red handbag."

"Maybe we should go talk to Mrs. Garcia again." He grinned; they were close to solving the case, he could feel it. "Besides, the Jack Brithe theory doesn't work. Tony Garcia was loaded and our reports say, financially he was sound, I mean, look at his house, so why couldn't he pay?"

"Why don't we ask Mrs. Garcia." Brennan suggested; and as they walked off, little did they know, they were being watched.