Dr. Brennan meet Dr. Brennan
Chapter 13
By LizD
A/N:
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"I'm on the ground." Booth barked into his phone. He checked his watch. The plane was supposed to land thirty minutes before. It was now seven-ten PM. Brennan and Tempe had been missing for over to nineteen hours.
"Hôtel De La Montangne," Ryan barked back. "Le conducteur saura."
"RYAN!" Both stopped him.
"The cab will know where it is," he repeated correcting to English. "Nothing yet."
Booth ended the call and hailed a cab he spoke not a word of French but the driver took pity on him.
Booth put his head back and closed his eyes. He had been trying to convince himself that it was a misunderstanding. Brennan and Tempe probably got caught up in some research. Their phones were turned off. They were deep into whatever they were doing and didn't notice the time. It was an absurd thought. He tried to remind himself that Brennan was smart – smartest woman he had ever met and capable. She could take care of herself. He didn't know Tempe very well, but he assumed she wasn't some shrinking violet based on her career choice and choice of partner – boyfriend – lover whatever.
Nineteen hours was not enough time for the cops to get involved. Ryan had to be working under the radar and he must know something else. Booth tried to talk to him when he was waiting for the plane, but the connection was not good. So all he was left with was "last seen" and his imagination.
He thought back to their last conversation. He had called her back after he received a message from her. It was Friday morning. It was short. She had called and left a message saying that she hoped he was having a great time with Parker. That she and Tempe were running into several dead ends but wanted to stay with it for another day. Said she would be home in time to get ready for the shower. Booth assumed that meant Saturday late afternoon but was not given a new time for her flight. Booth's biggest disappointment was that he had made plans for them for Friday night – all three of them – to go to some Zombie movie that Parker had been talking about all week. When he called her back he didn't mention the movie or Parker's disappointment (or his). In fact he was just shy of short with her. "Fine, that's fine, everything's fine." FINE. FINE. FINE.
Nothing was FINE – Bones was missing.
She had to be fine. He told himself. She had to be.
He called Hodgins on the way to the airport. God he loved the squints some times. Hodgins response: "What do you need?" Booth told him that the minute he knew what he needed, they would be his first call. Hodgins didn't push, Hodgins didn't wig out. He was calm, cool and collect. Angela was not quite that easy. About a minute after he hung up with Hodgins, she called Booth. She ranted and raved, demanded to be called with any news. She even went so far as to say that Booth should have been with her if she was investigating a murder. Booth had thought of that himself. He understood her fear and her worry. He had it too. He didn't have her hormones. Before she hung up she had apologized, told him to be careful and to find her baby's aunt and bring her home safely. Booth had every intention of doing just that.
The taxi pulled up to the hotel. Ryan was outside waiting for him smoking. He had picked up the habit again on the stakeout but would quit again the second Tempe was safe. Until then he needed something to steady his nerves.
Booth paid the driver and tipped way too much. He didn't care.
"Booth." Ryan nodded taking another drag off his cigarette.
"Ryan." Booth returned. "What have you got so far?"
"They were last seen leaving this hotel about four AM this morning."
"For where?"
"Can't confirm that. We show Tempe's credit card was used at gas station about ten miles south of where we had our moose encounter. That was at six AM. We have people checking that area and as far out as we have estimated they could go."
"Right." Booth had also had Brennan's credit card and phone history pulled. It hadn't been forwarded to him yet.
"Look. It could be nothing," Ryan tried to sound reassuring taking another drag off his cigarette. "Tempe's car is fifteen years old. She could've had car trouble. Could be too far out for cell service. Anything could have happened."
"In which case we need to find them."
"Yes … true … but …" Ryan looked anxious.
"What?"
"This is a thing with Tempe."
"A thing?"
"She gets herself in situations … over her head … she has really good instincts and follows them without a thought for the consequences. After all these years you would have thought she would have learned something."
"Ryan."
"Most detectives don't make the connections she does." He took a final hit from his cigarette and dropped it stubbing it out with his boot. "Most blow her off and so she goes it alone. I can't tell you how many times she has been almost killed. How many times I've had to affect a rescue myself." He thought about lighting another one but stopped. "But this time I don't have a clue what she could possibly have found or where they went."
"Where were you this morning … last night … when they planned this?" Booth barked but he didn't mean to. It was a rhetorical question he had been flogging himself with since he got the news.
"On a stake out. She wouldn't call me on a stake out." He bit back he frustration. "I told her not to."
Booth had his own guilt. He didn't give Brennan a chance to talk the day before or she might have disclosed something. "Why are we here?"
"Brennan was staying here. Thought they might have left a clue in the room. So far nothing."
At that moment Luc Claudel, investigator section des homicides, Communauté Urbaine de Montréal (CUM), pulled up with his partner Michel Charbonneau. He was a city copy, but Ryan had requested his help to get investigation going. Claudel and Charbonneau were familiar with Tempe Brennan and her penchant for getting into trouble usually about the same time she solved the case for them. Claudel had been the rescuer a time or two as well.
"La voiture a été trouvée," Claudel said to Ryan while eyeing Booth.
"They found the car," Ryan translated. He introduced Claudel and Charbonneau to Booth. It was hard to explain the relationship - a forensic anthropologist as a partner with a special agent from the FBI. More proof for Claudel that the Americans had no idea what they were doing. It was a waste of time to say that there were two Temperance Brennans. "Tell me." Ryan looked back at Claudel.
In heavily French accented English, probably more so to annoy Special Agent Booth, FBI, Claudel went into further detail. He said the car was found in a ditch twenty miles north of Grand-Remous. That was approximately two hundred and seventy-five kilometers from Montreal (one hundred seventy miles or three and a half hours for Booth). The window was blown out evidence of a gunshot and there was blood at the scene. There was no sign of either of the women, and it didn't appear as if they were in the car when it went into the ditch (no footprints or signs of anyone exiting the car). It was a dump.
Booth stepped away to make a phone call. He was back in moments. "You have the full resources of the FBI and the Jeffersonian institution at your disposal. It is amazing what can be mobilized when blood and gunshots are found. "What is the next move?" Booth knew what the next move was but he was trying not to step on toes. With the introduction of CUM he was not sure who had jurisdiction. The good news was that it seemed that Ryan and Claudel were accustomed to working together so there would be no jurisdictional battle. That was different for Booth.
Crime scene investigators were dispatched to the car to gather any and all evidence. Samples would be sent to both the SQ and the Jeffersonian. But the bottom line was if the car was dumped, then whatever happened to Tempe and Brennan happened miles from there. There was no way of knowing how many miles the car was driven.
Ryan remembered something. Tempe had had the car serviced the week before. They would have the mileage at the time of service. Several phone calls later it was determined that since the service to the time it was found in the ditch there were approximately four hundred kilometers put on the car that coupled with the time frame, they had a search area - a pretty big search area but at least they weren't running blind. Every available unit was sent to the area including a Search and Rescue helicopter. Agents were being mobilized from the Albany Field office and would be there in four hours. The problem of course was that it was pitch dark out there, but time was of the essence.
Booth and Ryan were going to head up to Brennan's room to see if they could somehow follow their logic; to find out at least where they were headed. It was all they could do until they got more information.
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Brennan sat in the dark working to release the screws in the wall that held the chain attached to her ankle in place. She had been at it for hours and was making some progress. Tempe was unconscious on the other side of the room. She had been injured and it was best that she sleep to recover her strength.
To keep her focus on her task, and to not allow her fears to runaway with her, Brennan thought of other places, other people. People that she had to live for: her father, her brother. She thought of Angela and her new baby and the responsibility of being an aunt. Of Hodgins and how proud and excited he was to be a father. She thought of Cam and the life she was building for herself - adopted daughter and a love interest that seemed very interested. And of course she thought of Booth.
Their partnership was once again solid. Their friendship was becoming something more. For the week after they became partners again, Brennan had stopped asking about Hannah, but she was a huge topic that was hard to avoid. Booth would ask her for dinner, she would decline. Brennan chose not to call his cell phone after eight PM at night or before seven the following morning. In one instance that was an issue. She had found some information on a case they were working and he needed to have it sooner than later. When he questioned her about why she didn't contact him, Brennan was unable to give a good response. She said she didn't wish to disturb him. It was then that he disclosed that Hannah was gone. He really wasn't trying to hide it from Brennan. He was just dealing with his own loss in his own way.
"It was best for her," he told Brennan over coffee that morning. "Hannah was very career driven. She was not ready to settle down."
"Should that not have been her choice?" Brennan asked. "She chose to come to Washington for you; she must have loved you very much." The pain was clear in her eyes as the words left her mouth.
Booth nodded. "I loved her too, but I loved who she was - free, happy, chasing a story, putting herself in god knows what situation to get the good interview, or disclose some horrible atrocity. She wouldn't have been happy limiting herself to U.S. politics. She's Canadian."
"You were her choice." Brennan pushed. She hated the thought of Booth thinking he wasn't enough for a woman like Hannah, for any woman. That was probably what he thought when Brennan refused him as well - that he wasn't enough. "You are an amazing man, Booth; kind, loving, generous - a good father, provider and protector. You would make an excellent partner in life." She swallowed hard. "Anyone would be a fool, an absolute fool not to see that and do whatever it took to secure and return your love." Her voice was cracking as she said it and had to look away.
Booth stayed silent for a long moment. "Maybe," he said. "But the reality is, I gave her an out and she took it. She didn't have to." Brennan nodded. "There is another reality," he said. Brennan looked back into his eyes. For a long moment they just read into each other's souls. Brennan thought she saw an echo of a look that he had shown her a year before. It was only there for a moment, a split second and then it was gone. It may not have been there at all. A call from work ruined the moment for them.
What followed was weeks of open communication, a lot of time spent in each other's company and fun. They actually did more than work together. Brennan was often included in events with Parker. Often on the weekend if there were no case, Booth and Brennan would go to a movie or a play or just meet and have dinner. Booth told her the day Hannah called. She said that she missed him but that it was right for her to leave - bad timing. Booth agreed. Brenna did not but kept her comment to herself.
Booth didn't explain to Brennan that he knew what he felt for Hannah. He had felt it with other women; Tess, Rebecca, a few others. He knew what he wanted with those women and he knew what their lives would be like. It was what he was raised to believe he should want in life. But he also knew what he felt with Brennan. He felt whole, connected, complete. He didn't know what that meant for him, for them but he knew it meant that needed her in his life. He hadn't told her that yet, but they had time. Until now - their time may have run out.
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Tempe slowly came to consciousness. There was a pain in her shoulder that she hadn't felt in a long time. She couldn't move her arm. The room that she was in was dark and cold. She was lying on the floor which was dusty wood. She tried to sit up but her head throbbed. She groaned out her pain.
"Tempe, are you awake?" Brennan's voice cut through the darkness. "Try not to move too much. You have been shot. There is an entrance and exit wound. I have done what I can to stop the bleeding and have immobilized your arm. I am not good with living bodies or soft tissue."
Tempe tried to sit up but couldn't. "What the hell happened? Why does my head hurt?"
"There was an accident with the car."
"Oh no ... my Mazda." Tempe struggled to sit up again and found that her left ankle was chained to the wall. "What the hell?"
"We are being held." Brennan explained.
"By who?" Tempe couldn't remember the last twenty four hours.
"I believe we found Jack Grogan."
Everything came flooding back to Tempe in a flash. After two days working with Brennan they had a major break. They were reviewing the missing persons case of Lucy Snowland and the name Jack Grogan was listed. Then again the name appeared in a report that Lana Snowland had submitted years later saying that Jack Grogan had been paying attention to Lucy. The final connection was in Ryan's file for the nine sets of remains found. A Jacques Grogan was interviewed. Ryan made a note in the file that Grogan was not Canadian.
That was enough for Tempe and Brennan to start really researching the name. Brennan called Charlie at the FBI and Tempe called her contact in Montreal. The Montreal connection was a bit of a bust - no employment, no credit, no property owned, no taxed paid, not birth, no death, nothing.
Charlie came up with more but nothing current, nothing since 1939. Grogan was born in West Virginia in 1918. The family moved to Maryland in 1936. Grogan was in trouble with the police a lot in his youth. Never graduated high school or paid taxes.
They started positing that Jack Grogan had abducted young Lucy Snowland and fled to Canada. They suspected that Grogan had been the father of the nine bodies they found so that meant for some seventy-one years Grogan has been the patriarch. There was more to know, but it was a place to start. They found the address he had given Ryan and set off to speak with Jack Grogan. How dangerous could he be, he was ninety-three years old? They didn't know about Loni Grogan, Jack's daughter. She was simple and slow, but strong for a twenty something year old.
Of course Jack or Jacques Grogan was not at the address he had given Ryan but it was close enough to start asking questions.
"How long have we been here?" Tempe asked.
"More than twelve hours, not more than sixteen."
"Are you OK?"
"I suffered no injuries in the accident, but I am also chained to the wall."
"So, how are we going to get out of here?"
"Working on it," Brennan said. "I believe I will be able to work the screws out."
"Good." She pulled at her own chain. It was clear that these chains were old, but well used. Apparently the Snowland girls resisted their fate as well. She started doing what she could with hers chains. Tempe heard something in the distance. "Helicopters?"
"I believe that they are looking for us."
"They?"
"I suspect Ryan has noticed your absence and Booth will have noticed that I have not returned. That coupled with no response on our cell phones and -."
"And past history," Tempe snorted.
"Past history?"
"I tend to get myself in these situations," she owned. "Ryan has had to save me from psychotic killers, disgruntled lab assistants, coyotes - to name a few." She would have laughed if it were funny. "He's gonna be pretty pissed."
"Booth will not be pleased either."
"Yeah, they both have that White Knight thing going on."
Brennan thought back to Sweets book. It was not a good memory. "We can't rely on them to find us."
"No," Tempe said pulling at her chain. "It was luck we found the place."
"So we need to get out of here and send a signal."
"Where's Grogan?"
"I don't know." Brennan swallowed hard. "He said they were going to hang us at dawn."
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Booth and Ryan were looking over everything they found in the room. Charlie contacted Booth to tell him about the Jack Grogan connection. It took Ryan a minute to find the correlated reference in his witness file.
A call came in from the crime scene unit working the car. They had found a laptop and some hand written notes in the woods away from the car. They had an address. All search efforts were redirected to that area. Booth and Ryan were on their way. It would be light soon. That should help.
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A/N: White Knights on their way, Damsels working their own way out of distress to meet them half way. Killers tying nooses. OH MY. Stay tuned.