A/N: By popular demand, here is a fast update (the fastest I have ever done for this story!). Hope you like it. It was pretty fun to write.

The goosebumps hadn't disappeared even when Booth had set foot back into his home the following day. The name of their first suspect haunted him, sent chills down his spine every time he thought of when he had last seen the man. He hadn't known. He doesn't think anybody had known.

He had called Temperance the second he had been out of Jordan's home. Despite her relatively calm nature, she had gasped loudly and had asked if he was joking. He hadn't been, of course, but he wished he had. He just couldn't believe it. A man with such an important job a child killer? Something quite didn't add up. A quick search had turned up nothing. The man had a virgin file. No illegal activities had been recorded, he had never been arrested and hadn't even gotten a speeding ticket. The man was a perfect citizen. Something wasn't logic here.

He had pushed the images at the back of his mind during the flight (never quite getting rid of the goosebumps) but now that he was back in DC, the images poured from his subconscious like a waterfall and he wasn't able to stop them. The murderer, a doctor?

He paced back and forth in the living room, under the careful eye of his wife.

"Booth, would you stop walking back and forth? You're making me dizzy."

"Then don't look at me."

Temperance sighed.

"You're worrying for nothing, Booth. The man is working today, the nurse told you. You won't get much out of him at the hospital. It's just better to sit and wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Wait until he comes back home. Tomorrow, you can go talk to him. There's no rush. The man only kills every eight years."

Booth glared at her.

"That's not funny, Bones, just so you know."

"It wasn't a joke."

Booth stopped and turned to his wife. The look she gave him made him sigh and sit back down on the couch he had recently vacated to pace.

"I just can't believe it. Him, a killer? We trusted that man, Bones."

"A lot of people trusted him, Booth."

"I never would have thought. He didn't look like a killer."

"You don't look like a killer, Booth, but you've killed over fifty people."

"Forty-nine, Bones. I killed forty-nine people. And it's not like it's something I'm proud of. I was just doing my job. I was trained to kill, Bones. But that man? He isn't trained to kill, he's trained to save. He wasn't doing his job."

Temperance remained quiet.

"Why those girls in particular? And why every eight years? He didn't abuse any of them, he just... killed them. According to Rowan Kresic, he didn't even bother wrapping Hope Lawson in a towel after taking her out of her bath."

"Booth."

"I can't believe we trusted him."

Outside, a car door slammed shut. Temperance looked out the window, alarmed, before turning to her husband.

"Don't say a word about the case in front of the kids, Booth. We can't let them know what we found out, especially not Riley."

Booth nodded. A couple of seconds later, the front door opened and two excited twins came into the house, talking rapidly.

He had spent the entire night tossing and turning in his bed, too excited to sleep. The night simply seemed to drag on when finally the radio clock turned on and pulled Booth from the light sleep that had finally claimed in.

In an instant, he had been out of his bed. Showering and eating breakfast at the speed of light, he had been out the door before his wife and children had finished their own breakfast. He knew he couldn't very well talk to the doctor at six in the morning but there were a few things he wanted to go over at the office before he went over to the doctor's home for a quick visit.

So many information had been gathered that it was almost impossible for him to remember everything. Not only had the victims been killed in different ways, they had also been killed in different years. The pattern was not typical of a serial killer but he doubted Symmes was an ordinary serial killer.

Minutes turned into hours. Around two, Booth decided that the doctor had probably slept enough and that it was now time to pay him a small visit. Gathering his things, he left a note to his new assistant telling him he would be gone for the day before stepping inside the elevator then walking out into the warm May sun.

He could hardly believe that five weeks had gone by since Riley has first found the bones in the Robertsons' home. The end of May was nearing quickly and so was the end of the school year. In a bit more than a month, he would be sending both his twins to a summer camp upstate. Temperance had been against it at first, of course, claiming they were too young for that sort of thing but he had rapidly changed her mind by saying she could pick the camp. Much to his surprise, she hadn't picked an archaeological camp (or any science camp for that matter) and he had let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. At least his kids would have fun this summer and it would give them a month to relax.

The traffic wasn't half bad and Booth was able to reach Winchester in a bit more than an hour. He still couldn't believe how far from Washington they worked. Back when they had moved there, things had seemed okay. Booth had taken a couple months off to take care of Brina while Temperance went back to work and they had switched afterwards. But the commute was tiresome and, to get home at a decent time, he needed to leave the Bureau at three (at the latest). As he left the highway, Booth made a mental note to talk about it with his wife that night.

The doctor lived near his own house which made him shiver. To know that he had lived so close to them and not even knowing it sent chills down his spine. As he got out of the SUV and slammed the door, Booth examined the neighbouring houses and wondered how many of them knew what their neighbor, their well-respected neighbor, had done.

Flowers had been planted on both side of the stone steps and a gigantic garden had recently come to life in the front yard. Booth rang the bell and waited. He had to admit, the doctor certainly had taste. His house and his garden were well-groomed and almost gave the yard a movie-like look. Booth chuckled bitterly as he thought of how ironic that a man who could afford to have such a beautiful place could also have a mind so twisted as to kill children.

The door opened to reveal a maid. Smiling politely at the young woman, Booth introduced himself and flashed his badge. The smile on the woman's voice faded and her voice shook as she called her boss' name.

"If you would like to follow me." The maid told him as she stepped aside to let him in.

Booth stepped inside and the maid closed the door behind him. The woman then led him to a small living room down a corridor and told him to wait patiently, that the doctor would soon join him. Booth thanked her and the maid disappeared.

Left alone in this small room, Booth examined his surroundings. Everything was so neat, making Booth wonder how often the maid cleaned up after her employer. Not a single trace of dust could be found on the furniture present in the room.

"Miranda is the best maid around." A voice said behind him as he was running his finger over a the shelf of a bookcase.

He turned around to find Dr. Symmes coming into the room. He had barely changed in the three years since he had last seen him. His hair had gone greyer, of course, and his face seemed somehow rounder. But he still wore those small glasses on the bridge of his nose and his eyes were still as grey as they had been back then.

The doctor smiled politely at Booth and motioned to him to sit. Obviously, he had no idea as to why Booth had stopped by his home, unannounced. If he knew, Booth thought, he certainly wasn't nervous.

"Would you like anything to drink?" Dr Symmes asked him as he sat down in an armchair across from him. "Miranda is quite good at cleaning the house but she doesn't always think to greet the guests properly."

"I'm fine, Dr. Symmes. I won't be staying long. I just have a few questions to ask you."

The doctor nodded before frowning.

"Your face seems familiar. Have we met before?"

The question took Booth by surprise.

"My name is Seeley Booth. You treated my daughter three years ago during the Febril epidemic."

"Ah yes, I remember now. Riley Brennan-Booth, the first survivor of his bizarre fever. How is your daughter, Agent Booth? You, yourself, look quite well. The last time I saw you, you were pale and close to death."

"She's really well." Booth said, forcing a smile.

For some reason, Booth wished the doctor hadn't remembered his daughter's name.

"Good for her. I never doubted it for a second. This little girl had a will to live."

So did the little girls you killed. Booth thought, angrily.

Silence fell over the room, which was quickly broken by the doctor.

"You're here to ask me questions. Regarding what exactly?"

"I work for the FBI, Doctor, and I'm the agent assigned to investigate the bones found in the basement of the 53 Maple Street house."

Booth's eyes focused on the doctor's face. But the mention of the 53 Maple Street house seemed to have no effect on him. His face remained neutral and his voice was calm when he answered.

"A very sad story, indeed." The doctor replied. "How many girls were killed in that house? Three? Four?"

"Five." Booth replied. "All nine years old."

The doctor nodded.

"You never expect something like this to happen in a small community like ours. I have lived here all my life and never had I heard something so horrible. Expect, maybe, the Brown case."

"The Brown case?" Booth asked, innocently.

The doctor nodded.

"About forty years, a man named Cameron Brown poisoned his daughter. He was sentenced to life in prison even though he always claimed that he was innocent. I believe it."

"You believe Cameron Brown never killed Emily?"

"So you have heard of the Brown case?"

The doctor quirked an eyebrow at him and Booth cursed himself for the mistake he had just made.

"And why do you believe such a thing, Doctor Symmes?" Booth asked, ignoring the previous question the doctor had asked him.

"Call it a 'gut feeling', Agent Booth."

"How old are you today, Doctor?"

"Agent Booth, what kind of question is that?"

Booth glared at him.

"I'm 52 years old."

"Emily Brown died in 1976. You must have been very young when it happened. How could you have known that Cameron Brown was innocent when you were barely out of elementary school?"

The doctor seemed defeated by Booth's question. Booth smiled inwardly.

"What can I do to help you, Agent Booth?"

His tone had now turned from pleasant to arrogant. Booth's smile faded.

"I need you to tell where you were the night of April 21st?"

The doctor frowned, as though trying to remember where he had been on that particular day, a month ago.

"I was probably here, sleeping. I had worked all day and I was tired."

"Probably here?"

"It was a month ago, Agent Booth. Do you remember where you were on a day a month ago?"

"Can anyone check out your alibi?" Booth asked, ignoring the question.

"You can always ask Miranda."

"I will."

"Good."

The doctor stood up and walked to the window.

"I guess that makes me a suspect in the case."

Booth nodded.

"Yes, it does."

"It's that Rowan kid, isn't it?"

"Rowan kid?"

"Don't play dumb, Agent Booth. I know you've spoken to Rowan Kresic. I'm surprised though. I thought he had killed himself."

Booth felt the anger rise up inside of him. If it wasn't for the lack of evidence against the doctor, he would have been handcuffing the doctor right away. And Symmes probably knew it and was probably having fun torturing him. He wouldn't give him the pleasure of falling into his little trap.

"He disappeared about ten years ago and we never heard from him again."

"How do you know Rowan Kresic?"

"Before I was a pediatrician in the hospital in Washington, I practiced here in Winchester. I know practically every kid in the city that is older than ten years old today. I can tell you exactly what bone has been broken in them and what illness they have caught. I have a good memory."

Suddenly, more pieces added themselves to the puzzle that had become their case. In an instant, he understood why Raine Bennett had disappeared so mysteriously. She had known her abductor. She probably trusted the doctor who had treated her for illnesses or broken limbs. And if he followed his gut feeling, he knew that Raine Bennett hadn't been killed in the woods behind her backyard. She had been killed somewhere else.

"Rowan Kresic was a weird child, Agent Booth. He wasn't quite right in his head, if you know what I mean."

"He seemed perfectly fine when I spoke with him, Dr. Symmes."

"So you did speak with him?"

"Yes I did." Booth replied, defiantly. "He also told me he had seen you, holding Hope Lawson, on the night she was murdered."

Symmes turned around and, for a split second, Booth thought he could detect a hint of panic in his eyes. But when he spoke, the doctor was quite calm.

"He thinks he saw me but it wasn't me. Did he tell you that he followed me around after that? He never left me alone. He threatened me to call the police, to tell them he knew who had killed Hope Lawson but he never did. I almost had to put a restraining order on him so he'd leave me alone. I didn't have to, of course, because he went nuts and took off only god knows where. Where did you find him, anyway?"

"That, I can't tell you, Dr. Symmes. Confidentiality. Surely you know what that means?"

Dr. Symmes forced a smile.

"I have a brother."

Booth raised his eyebrows.

"Oh so now there's a brother?"

The doctor ignored him.

"He looks just like me. I didn't want to say anything but I think he's the one behind all these murders. He's been acting really strange since the bones were found in the Robertson's home. I tried contacting him but he doesn't answer the phone."

Booth nodded.

"Can you give me your brother's name?"

"Jason. He works in a restaurant down-town. Do you need the name?"

Booth jotted down the names in his notepad then got up.

"If you don't mind, I would like to use your bathroom. I've had a long trip and too much coffee on the way here."

"Second floor, on your right. It's the second door on your left."

Booth thanked him before walking out of the study. Going up the stairs, he looked down to see if the doctor was staring at him. Unfortunately, the doctor had stayed in the study.

Something about his behavior wasn't quite right. Booth hadn't been able to detect one hint of fear, except for the brief of appearance of what he had interpreted as panic in his eyes. For a split second, Booth wondered if maybe Rowan Kresic hadn't lied to him? If Dr. Symmes really did have a brother who looked an awful lot like him, maybe it was possible that Rowan could have mistaken both men. His guts told him Rowan was telling the truth.

At the top of the stairs, he examined the corridor on the left. Three doors were opened and Booth wondered what the rooms were used for. Glancing at the bottom of the stairs to make sure the doctor or the maid wasn't looking up at him, he slowly made his way down the dark hallway. The carpet squished under his careful steps. All three rooms served as guests rooms and only one was occupied.

The cat opened one eye when Booth stopped in front of the door. Let out a noise that sounded like a complaint, the cat stood up and jumped down the bed. As it brushed against Booth's leg, the cat looked up disapprovingly at him, as though trying to tell him he had bothered him during his nap and disappeared down the hallway and down the stairs. Thinking he better really use the bathroom before Symmes suspected what he had done, Booth quietly made his way to the bathroom.

He flushed the toilet just as footsteps were heard in the staircase. Booth pretended to wash his hands and wiped them on a towel hanging nearby.

He came out of the bathroom to find the doctor looking at him suspiciously.

"Well I should get going. My wife will probably want me to pick the kids up at school."

The doctor nodded.

"Miranda will show you to the door."

Symmes called out for his maid who appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Miranda, would you kindly accompany Agent Booth to the door, please?"

The maid nodded and Booth thought he had seen her sigh. Obviously, showing guests to the door wasn't officially part of her job description.

At the door, Booth took one last look at the house before stepping out. Only when he had turned the corner of the street did he dare fetch his cellphone from his pocket. Dialing his wife's number, he checked in the rear-view mirror, almost expecting the doctor to be following him. No one was on the street.

"Booth."

"How I love to hear you say that." Booth teased as he turned into traffic.

"Where are you?"

"I just paid a little visit to our dear friend Dr. Symmes."

"How did it go?"

"Pretty well, I might say. Bones, you said that the report on Mickey's death said that two hair fibers were found on her?"

There was a ruffling noise that told Booth his wife was probably searching for the file. A couple of seconds later, Temperance spoke again.

"Yes. One was human, the other feline. Why? Does Symmes have a cat?"

"American bobtail." Booth replied, his smile growing. "And guess what? Kitty even rubbed itself against my pants."

He thought he could feel his wife smile on the other side of the line.

"Don't wash your pants before I get home."

Booth chuckled.

"Don't worry, baby. The cat hair will still be on my pants when you get home."

"Good."

"Uh Temperance?"

"Yes, Seeley?"

In an instant, Booth had known she had understood his unspoken words. The use of their first names were saved for serious conversations.

"When you get home, there's something I would like to talk to you about."

There was a short silence.

"Me too."

Her response took him by surprise. The couple hung up, leaving Booth puzzled.