Chapter 14
Brennan, Hodgins, Angela, Cam, and Sweets were gathered on the lab platform as Brennan apprised them of Booth's situation.
"Whoa, execution style? I mean, could Booth really have done that?" Hodgins speculated.
"Booth has a lot of deep-seated rage; I believe he could totally do something like that." Sweets corroborated.
"This speculation is a ridiculous waste of time due to the fact that I was present for the events in question and it most certainly was not an execution." Brennan put forth adamantly.
Angela rolled her eyes at Hodgins and Sweets while chastising them in annoyance, "This guy had a gun at Brennan's head."
Hodgins lowered his eyes apologetically while Sweets nodded quickly, "Right, sorry."
She turned to Brennan. "And, sweetie, Booth would have had every right to execute that guy."
"Let me remind everyone that an execution is a planned murder of someone which is not the same as killing someone in defense of another, which is what Booth did and is what we now need to focus on proving with physical evidence." Cam interjected authoritatively.
Everyone agreed in muted tones. "Thank you," Brennan acknowledged Cam for the firm re-direction and the two held each other's gazes briefly.
"Okay, so where do we start?" Hodgins asked.
"Me," Brennan said. The others looked at her in confusion and she proceeded to point to the bruise on her cheek. "We have to move quickly on it, though. We need x-rays and photos so that we can possibly determine the amount of pressure exerted on my face as well as take measurements that might prove the positioning of Karnick's hand. There may be residual effects on either my zygomatic bone or ramus."
"And the skin discoloration can help verify the timing, as well," Cam joined in.
Angela looked ill. "Ange? You don't look well. Are you experiencing some morning sickness?" Brennan wanted to know.
"No, sweetie, I just don't like the idea that you are evidence. It doesn't feel right."
Brennan gave a half-smile, her eyes conveying her appreciation for her best friend's concern, but reassured her, "It's really okay and probably won't be enough information to really help, but we'll need as much solid evidence as possible. Booth would say that everything together might be enough to create the story that people need to have while weighing evidence."
Sweets jumped on her semantics. "A story, Dr. Brennan? Are you suggesting a manipulation of the facts? That doesn't sound like you."
Brennan backpedaled. "We will find evidence and facts that will exonerate Booth. I am merely interjecting that Booth would recognize that all of the facts put together will make the case stronger rather than isolating each piece of evidence."
"Right." Sweets nodded with a suppressed smile.
"So, we are still waiting for clearance to do an autopsy on Karnick so that we can examine the entry wound and impact which will help us determine the distance between Booth and Karnick." Cam added. "It will be easy to prove that Booth didn't shoot him in a direct execution style, but probably not much more than that."
"We need more." Brennan said forcefully as she fought the turmoil of emotions that kept rising to the surface as she considered the odds against Booth. She found that she did not want to think past what was in front of them, to the consequences should they fail. "Hodgins, is there anything to be gleaned from fibers, gravel, dirt – anything?"
Angela put an arm around Brennan's shoulders and led her away from the platform and into her office. "Okay Bren, take a breath and talk to me, okay?"
"I don't understand. What do you want me to talk to you about?"
Angela simply stared at her with a frown that indicated that Brennan's act of ignorance was not going to fly with her.
Brennan wrapped her arms around herself and looked down as she bit her lip before sharing some of her anxieties with her best friend. "I'm nervous, Ange. I'm nervous that we won't be able to find enough evidence to corroborate the actual events of yesterday. I'm nervous that the forensic scientists that we give any evidence we do have will miss things that we would not." She began to pace. "I'm angry that my reputation as the best forensic anthropologist in the country isn't enough for detectives to trust my facts over the ridiculous story of a police officer who was involved with drug and weapons dealers."
She didn't say anything for a moment and Angela filled in the gap. "And you're worried about Booth, sweetie. It's okay to be worried about him. We all are. It's been a pretty bad 24 hours, wouldn't you say?"
"Yes," was all she said at first when she caught Angela's kind, compassionate eyes and thought about how she so easily admitted that she was "a little bit" in love with Booth back when they met at the diner together upon their return from Paris and Maluku. Then she considered her own feelings towards Booth and how she had been guarding them tightly inside. She wasn't sure there was a rational reason to tell them to anyone since nothing could be changed. Booth was with Hannah.
"Bren?" Angela probed. "There's more to it, isn't there?"
Brennan looked at her uncertainly. "Sitting with him, in the hospital, waiting for him to wake up . . ."
"It was like when he was in his coma after his brain surgery."
Brennan's eyes glimmered in sadness. "Booth almost lost his life to protect Hannah. He had to kill someone to save me." Her voice shook. "He hates killing people, Ange. It isn't right that he could lose his job or even go to jail for protecting me. We have to find the evidence."
"We will, sweetie. Hodgins and Cam are still out there and figuring out a plan to help us move forward even as we speak. And Caroline is the best there is, right? If any lawyer can get Booth out of this jam, it's her. And Booth, you know, he's strong and has his own reputation at the Bureau to help him." She looked at Brennan encouragingly. "How is Booth doing, by the way, with all of this?"
"He says he's fine, but I think he's just saying that so we won't worry. I don't know why he does that. He is experiencing pain from his injury and hasn't been able to get any rest. He and Hannah argued and while it appeared that they resolved their differences, Booth seemed as agitated as he has been for the past two days." Brennan didn't know how to truly convey how worried she was about Booth. She felt like he was carrying an enormous burden, but how could she express this feeling when she wasn't even sure, herself what the burden was, had no tangible proof of it?
"Trouble in paradise, hmm?" Angela commented.
"I don't know what that means."
"It means that you are doing all of the right things and we're going to help you get through it, okay?" Angela gave Brennan's arm a reassuring squeeze.
"It's not me that needs help, it's Booth." Brennan emphasized.
"Okay, him too." Angela smiled warmly at her as Hodgins and Cam walked in.
"Okay," Cam started. "This is what's going to happen. We're going to do the x-rays. Then I just got off of the phone with Director Hacker and he has agreed to send an FBI team with all of us out to Anacostia. We're going to re-enact what happened and that will allow us to take any measurements and Hodgins can help scour for anything that could possibly help us. At that point we should be able to enter all of the data into the Angelator for digital evidence."
"I'll call Hannah. She should join us in Anacostia." Brennan took out her phone, feeling more confidence with the solid plan now in place. Facts would win out.
Booth awoke to his phone ringing and buzzing on the table next to him. Though still tired, he was already feeling better with having had a few hours of uninterrupted rest. He was stiff and sore and still experienced limited mobility with his neck, but he had a high tolerance for pain. He knew he could muscle through it easily enough. He reached over to his phone and checked the caller ID. An involuntary smile emerged as he answered, "Booth."
The concern in Bones' quickly wiped it away, however. "Booth? Are you all right?"
"Yeah, Bones, why wouldn't I be?" He answered in puzzlement as he rolled himself into an upright position.
"Hannah isn't answering her phone. I was worried that she might have had to take you back to the hospital." Brennan replied, her voice indicating relief at hearing Booth's calm tone.
"No, it's all right. I'm fine. Hannah's doing some thing with the presidential press core – I think they were flying out to California or something. She probably had to turn off her phone."
"She's not with you? I thought she was going to stay with you to make sure you were recuperating satisfactorily."
"Yeah – well, she got this phone call about the trip and I told her to go ahead. It seemed like a big deal." It was an abbreviated explanation, but he found he didn't really feel like going into details. Truth was that he sort of felt like he pushed her into going and now felt a bit guilty about it. To be sure she hadn't really put up that much of a fight; they weren't really skating smoothly through this most recent hurdle. He re-focused on the conversation at hand. "Why are you trying to get a hold of her? What's happened?"
Brennan explained the plan to re-enact the events in Anacostia in order to gather as much evidence as possible to help with his investigation. "Great, I'll be ready in a half hour. Meet you there?"
"Booth." The sudden high anxiety in her tone startled Booth.
"What? What happened? What's wrong?" He was on his feet, alert.
"You shouldn't be going anywhere. The surgeon and the nurse were clear about you resting. Please will you take care of yourself this once?" Booth heard the catch in her voice and wondered what was really going on.
"Bones," he asked gently, his voice slipping into a soothing tenor. "What's wrong?"
"I . . . nothing. I've just been worried about you. And here you are already turning it around and trying to take care of me. Hannah should be there taking care of you." The last bit came out unexpectedly, then equally unanticipated; she was silent as was he for a moment.
Booth wanted to agree with her, but knew it would be unfair to do so. He had told Hannah to go. He wanted to be angry with Bones; who was she to say anything about what Hannah should or should not be doing? Instead, sadness stole its way in and this in turn irritated him. He didn't want sadness. He had left sadness behind when he left for Afghanistan.
"Booth?" Bones asked hesitantly.
"Right. I told her to go, okay? I'm fine and with Hannah unavailable it looks like you need me to help with events that came before you got there. Look, I promise not to do cartwheels and throw shot puts, okay? Now, when should I meet you there?"
On her end of the phone Brennan had allowed herself a brief smile at his mention of cartwheels and realized that she would be unable to physically stop him so satisfied herself with imposing conditions. "You shouldn't drive. I will pick you up in forty-five minutes. Will that be acceptable?"
"Fine. See you in forty-five."
He hung up the phone and took a deep breath. So, re-living events did not particularly appeal to him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to just sit around and wait for everyone else to do everything. He got them into this mess; he had to clean it up.