Part XIV
Booth and Brennan walked up to the Dashiell residence. It was a large condominium complex at the center of town. Booth flashed his badge to allow himself and Brennan access into the building. The security guard regarded them suspiciously, then buzzed them through.
When the elevator stopped on the fourth floor, Brennan said, "If we could get dental records, we could narrow it down from the teeth."
"Teeth?"
"Hodgins and Clark found two teeth. One partial. One complete. Although fractured from the heat of the fire, it's whole. We could establish identity fairly easily."
"Great. Two teeth. One whole. Seven women." Booth knocked at the front door of 428B. "But a little footwork never hurt anyone. Good old fashioned detective work." He knocked again.
"Right. Like... shoe-gum."
"What?" Booth looked at her.
The door opened and a man in his thirties answered the door. "Can I help you?"
"You really shouldn't open the door for strangers. It's not safe," Brennan said. Booth gave her a look. "What? He-- didn't even look out of the peephole," she muttered.
"It's a fairly safe building," the man said.
Booth flashed his badge, "FBI. I'd like to ask a few questions about Abigail Dashiell."
"Abigail. Yes. Come in." The man led them to the living room which was furnished elaborately.
Booth and Brennan took a seat. "Can I get you anything?"
"No," Booth said.
"I could use some water."
Booth shot her another look once the man disappeared.
"I'm thirsty," she explained.
Booth looked around. "I think this carpet's worth more than my life."
The man returned and took a seat opposite Booth and Brennan. "Did you find Abby?"
"We're just following some leads," Booth said. "And you're Abigail Dashiell's--"
"Boyfriend," the man supplied. "Tim Tucker. I--I was hoping to ask her to marry me... See how that went," the man said in strained tones.
"We found remains," Brennan said bluntly.
The man dropped the hand that he was rubbing the back of his neck with. "What?"
"Bones," Booth said.
"No, no. It's OK. I'd rather that you don't waste your time beating around the bush," Tucker said.
Brennan took out a photograph of the ring and handed it to the man. "Do you recognize this?"
The man looked at the photograph blankly, "Did you... find this with her body?"
"Does it look familiar? The ring has been melted--"
"Melted?" The man repeated weakly. Then he swallowed and looked much calmer. "What kind of metal did you say this was?"
"Why do you ask?" Booth asked.
"Abby was allergic to nickel. She didn't wear much jewelery because she was allergic to that and a couple other metals. She had sensitive skin."
"Silver plated nickel alloy," Brennan said.
"Wrong girl," Booth said. Then to Tucker, "I'd like to have our specialists at the Jeffersonian compare dentals just in case, if you don't mind."
"Anything to help you out," Tucker replied sadly. "If... if I can do anything to end this nightmare for someone...."
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