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Pulling up onto the driveway, Booth parked behind Buster Clarkson's Prius. Exiting the truck, Booth walked around the SUV and waited for Brennan to get out. "Remember, gun first. If Buster killed Lisa and Jason then he's dangerous."

Watching three other FBI owned trucks pull up in front of the house, Brennan watched as the agents left their vehicles and gathered around Booth.

"Okay, three of you go around back and wait to see if he tries to run." Pointing towards Agent Hastings he ordered, "There's a side door, so I want you to cover that." To the rest of his agents, Booth pointed towards the front door, "Everyone keep in mind this guy may have murdered two people." The four remaining agents, glancing at the front door, drew their guns and held them down near their thighs.

Walking over to the porch, Booth placed his hand on Brennan's arm, "Careful. I mean it Bones." Releasing her arm, Booth smiled at the scowl she threw at him. Ascending the steps, Booth waited for two of the agents to stand on each side of the door and the other two to flank him along with his partner. Knocking on the door, Booth felt the door move. Wary, he pushed the door and saw it swing open.

Cautious, Booth drew his gun and walked into the house. Brennan and the other agents followed Booth into the quiet house, searching for any signs of Buster Clarkson. Making motions with his left hand, Booth pointed towards the upstairs while he and Brennan moved into the living room. Two of the agents moved quietly up the stairs in search of Buster while the remaining two agents walked down the hall to check out the kitchen.

Finding the living room empty, Booth checked the guest bathroom then pointed towards the hallway. Moving down the hallway, the partners found themselves in the spacious kitchen. One of the agents exited the pantry and shook his head. The other agent, leaving the laundry room, shrugged his shoulders.

Spying a door across the room from the pantry, Brennan opened it and peered in. Angry, Booth moved swiftly to the open doorway and pulled Brennan away. Handing her his backup gun, Booth hissed, "Damn it Bones."

Taking the gun, Brennan took off the safety and pointed it towards the door. Reaching in and flipping the light switch, Booth saw the stairs and the room below flood with light.

"Buster Clarkson, this is Special Agent Booth. I have a warrant for your gun."

"Come and get it, Agent Booth. I keep it in my gun safe down here."

Exhaling slowly, Booth shook his head, "Why don't you come up here, Mr. Clarkson. I'd like to talk to you."

"No, I'd rather you came down here."

Angry at the situation, Booth ground his teeth. Beckoning towards Agent Jackson, Booth whispered, "Go outside and see if you can find a window in the basement. If you can locate one, try to look in without getting your head shot off and then come back and tell me what you see."

Turning, Agent Jackson jogged across the room and out the back door. One of agents covering the back exit, entered the kitchen and joined Booth at the door.

"Mr. Clarkson, I just want to talk to you and I'd like to see your .45." Peering down the steps and not seeing any movement, Booth shook his head, "You're just making this situation more dangerous than it needs to be."

"When I came back from Montreal and found out Howard was dead, it almost killed me. I loved him so much. Agent Darnell didn't really seem to be interested in the case so I started to do my own investigation. I spent a lot of time but I could never narrow down who Howard left the party with. It was an accident that I found out it was Jason Murphy. Howard had been dead for nine years and I thought I'd moved on. I was going to make some costumes for a play being done by one of the local amateur theater groups and they wanted something that was wild and colorful. They were going to do 'Alice Through the Looking Glass' you see and wanted it to have some sixties undertones. When I showed the producer the material I was going to use, he reacted. It was crazy but I knew he was the one who'd killed Howard the minute he saw the material. It was just . . . crazy.

Frustrated, Booth called down, "Mr. Clarkson, you need to stop talking and just come up. I need to read you your rights. You need to quit talking right now."

"I confronted Jason and the idiot told me that Howard wanted to play the chocking game. It's a stupid game that's supposed to increase your orgasm during sex. I would never do it because it was too dangerous. Jason said that he and Howard got carried away and the next thing Jason knew, Howard was dead. He panicked and called a friend and she came over to help him get rid of Howard's body. He didn't tell me his friend's name. Believe me I threatened him and it didn't do any good. I waited for a few weeks until Jason thought I was going to let it go and then I kidnapped him, took him out to Hungry Mother State Park, made him change into a costume similar to the one Howard was wearing when his body was found and then I shot him. He put up a hell of a fight in his apartment and I thought I was going to have to kill him there but I really wanted to dump his body in the woods like he'd done to Howard. I wanted to him to suffer the indignity of being eaten by wild animals like Howard was, the bastard."

Furious, Booth responded, "I told you to stop talking damn it. Come up here before I come down there. This won't play out well if you make me come down there Mr. Clarkson."

"It's weird, I thought Jason's death was enough. I wasn't going to do anything about the friend. I really wasn't then I was at a party for a play being put on by a friend of mine and I heard Lisa Barnett talk about a tattoo with some friends of hers. She described how she had it down to honor her boyfriend. He'd had a silly tattoo done by a friend of his in honor of Howard Bean. I couldn't believe my ears. She said her boyfriend made a mistake and hurt Howard and he'd been real sorry he'd done it. I followed her home and confronted her and she started crying about poor Jason and how he hadn't meant to hurt Howard. I knew she was the friend that helped move Howard's body to the park. I knew it. I'm not stupid."

"Damn it, for the last time, stop talking." Agent Jackson returning to the kitchen, spoke quietly to Booth, "There's two small windows. He has a light on in the corner of the basement and I can see the front of a chair. It looks like he may be sitting in it. I can see his foot but that's all."

Pointing back to the door, Booth ordered his agent, "I want you and Agent Cochran to go to the windows. In five minutes, break the glass and see if you can get a shot at him. When I hear the glass break, I'll go down the stairs so make a lot of noise when you break the windows. If you can't get a clear shot then hold your fire but keep up the noise until you hear me talking to him. I'm going to try to get him to surrender."

Watching the agents leave the room, Booth heard Clarkson call out.

"I really decided that I needed closure and the only way I could get it was if Lisa died for being Jason's accomplice. I kidnapped her and drove her out to Shenandoah State Park, made her change into a costume I'd made that was similar to Howard's and Jason's and I then rammed an arrow in her chest. It was bow season and I thought it would be ironic if a hunter was blamed. Cops can be so dumb sometimes."

Hearing glass break and his agents shouting down to Buster, Booth stepped quickly down the stairs to confront the man. "Mr. Clarkson, it's over. I need you to get up and come with me."

Shaking his head, Buster frowned, "Sorry Agent Booth. I'm just too tired. This play I've been in has been running for too many years and I'm just played out. I want it to end and I want it to end now."

Cautious, Booth moved closer to the murderer and tried to look at his hands, "Let me see your hands, Mr. Clarkson. It's not too late to do the right thing."

Pulling his right hand up from beside his thigh, Buster felt tears fall from his lashes, "Of course it's too late." Aiming his gun, Buster tried to line up his gun sites.

Booth, given no choice, shot the man. Observing Buster jerk back and his head fall back, his hand holding the gun drop, Booth inched over to where Buster was sitting. Placing his hand on the man's neck, Booth holstered his gun while pulling the .45 from Buster's hand.

Brennan, standing at the bottom of the stairs, witnessed Booth's face turn from an unemotional mask to a look of deep sadness. "Booth, he didn't give you any other choice."

Staring at the body of Buster Clarkson, Booth muttered, "Of course he gave me a choice, the stupid son-of-a-bitch."

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