Special Agent Seeley Booth was not in a good mood when he walked as purposefully as he could with his cane into the interrogation room where former FBI agent Walter Fitzpatrick sat with his hands folded together and an expression on his face that looked as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Booth glowered at the man; one thing he hated more than bad guys were good guys gone bad; something he wasn't entirely sure was true of Walter Fitzpatrick, but the evidence was clearly not on the man's side. As Fitzpatrick glanced up, Booth barked out his words, glad that Bones was sitting on the other side of the two-way mirror with Cullen, "You had better start talking Walter because if I find out that you've been lying to me, that you've been withholding information that could have kept two people alive, including one of my agents, you are going to wish that you were never born."
"Why do you have my grandson in custody? He's just a boy, Colin hasn't done anything illegal," Former Agent Fitzpatrick wasn't intimidated easily.
"I'm going to be asking the questions here. You're going to be answering them. Got it?" Booth wasn't going to play nice; his gut told him that Walter Fitzpatrick knew a whole hell of a lot more about this case than he'd let on and his fuse right now was very short. Booth leaned over the table and got in the older man's face, "Tell me everything you know about Mike Corrigan." He'd learned a few things about Corrigan from the preliminary background check that had been run on him. He'd served in Vietnam, had Special Forces training, and was an expert marksman. He'd also been given a medical discharge of an unspecified nature; but Booth could read between the lines, he knew what sorts of things combat could do to your mind and he was sure that the man that they were looking for was not only responsible for all of the killings, but that he was most likely mentally unstable and therefore highly unpredictable.
"He's my brother-in-law," Fitzpatrick revealed nothing with his expression, but his eyes flickered for an instant with something that looked a hell of a lot like fear.
That little bit of hesitation in not just spilling out everything he knew ticked Booth off and his tone was far too controlled as he clenched his jaw, "You are going to be charged with multiple counts of capital murder, conspiracy to commit murder, an accessory after the fact or a combination thereof if you don't start talking right now. It's you or him; do you really want to go down for something that you and I both know that your brother-in-law is responsible for? Federal agents don't do well in prison."
All of the air seemed to get sucked out of Walter Fitzpatrick and he leaned back in his chair looking completely spent. He glanced up at Booth who had a glare on his face that could melt steel, "When I was seeing Elizabeth, he was dating Lila Montgomery. Like I said before, if Elizabeth ever told anyone about us, it would have been Lila…I just never thought she'd say anything to Mike, especially since I was married to his sister," Fitzpatrick's voice faltered.
"You were cheating on his sister; don't you think that's enough of a motive to make Elizabeth Thompson disappear?" Booth was doing his best to keep his tone even and controlled, but it was evident to him why Walter Fitzpatrick never made Special Agent.
"He just didn't seem like the type and since I didn't think anyone knew about the affair, I never considered that he had anything to do with it. Mike had some problems when he came back from Nam, but he was doing better, making a life for himself," Clearly Walter Fitzpatrick was trying to absorb the implications of it all in spite of his denial.
"He was Special Forces, Walter, a trained sniper; he was trained to kill," Booth enunciated every word clearly as he looked at the retired agent with disgust. It was evident that Mike Corrigan was their prime suspect, but there was still the issue about the cell phone to deal with and then looming over them was how in the hell information was leaked out of the FBI to Corrigan in the first place. A team was combing over Walter Fitzpatrick's house right now to find any shred of evidence that might directly tie him to any of this.
A tear slid down Fitzpatrick's face and he looked at Booth with a determined expression, "If I had known that Mike was responsible for Elizabeth disappearing, for killing those four boys, I would have killed the bastard myself." He might not have seen what his brother-in-law was truly made of, but his years at the FBI had honed his sense of justice and he felt at least partially responsible for everything that had happened.
Booth wasn't feeling especially compassionate, "And if you had, you'd be sitting in prison right now."
"Agent Booth, if I could have prevented it, I would have…" Guilt was assailing Fitzpatrick as he considered if there had been an opportunity to have done something differently.
"Maybe if you could have kept it in your pants four little boys could have had the opportunity to grow up," Booth spat the words out; he had never cheated on a woman and despised the kind of men who did and showed no true remorse; the fact that one person had been missing for thirty-four years and six others had lost their lives as a direct result of this man's indiscretion was earning Walter Fitzpatrick a place on the loser's wall of shame as far as Booth was concerned. He had to restrain himself not to poke the man in the chest with the end of his cane.
"That's out of line, Agent Booth," Fitzpatrick straightened himself up in his chair and tried to sound stern, "I think I want my lawyer." His hands were visibly shaking; not so much from the Parkinson's as much as the stress of the situation.
"Is it really out of line? Mike Corrigan didn't have a motive to make Elizabeth Thompson disappear until you cheated on his sister. Think about that Mr. Fitzpatrick," With that, Booth turned on his heels and walked out of the interrogation room fuming. While Fitzpatrick probably had no culpability in the crime he wished that he could charge him with capital stupidity.
Brennan left the observation area as soon as Booth had walked out of the interrogation room; she reached out and touched his arm gently, "Booth, you did very well in there." It never ceased to amaze her how good he was with people, even people that wanted to hide things. Somehow, Booth usually found a way to extract information that she never would have expected to find.
Booth let out a frustrated sigh and winced as he rested on his cane, "Then why doesn't it make me feel any better, Bones?" He was frustrated because he wanted to flick the man between the eyes for all of the lives that had been devastated because he couldn't exercise an ounce of good judgment and stay faithful to his wife.
Brennan looked at him intently, "Because seven people are dead; well six that we know for sure, and probably seven since Elizabeth Thompson's body has never been found." She shared Booth's drive for justice; she wanted truth and the two seemed to go hand in hand.
Cullen stepped out of the observation room and addressed Booth, "We've got a surveillance team on Corrigan's house; as soon as he blinks they'll take him into custody."
"Good," Booth casually slung his arm across Bones' shoulders and let himself lean into her just a little bit, "I think I need to take a load off until they bring in Mike Corrigan, my ass is killing me."
"Dr. Brennan, would you escort Agent Booth to his office and do your best to make him stay there until you hear from me?" Cullen was trying to suppress a smirk; he hoped that he had made the right decision regarding keeping this pair together.
"Yes, I will," Brennan turned her attention to Booth and began propelling him towards his office, "I told you that you should be taking your pain meds for that," her brow was furrowed, "Where's your doughnut?" As tough as Booth was, this was not one of those times to be exhibiting his alpha male tendencies.
"I left it in my office," There was the smallest hint of a whine in his voice.
"It would heal faster if you would take your medication," Brennan was a scientist and she was sharing factual data, not just some anecdotal hearsay; why he couldn't seem to grasp that was a mystery to her. As they approached his office still bickering over the fact that Booth wasn't taking the medication that had been prescribed for him, whispers and a few outright laughs preceded them.
Booth stopped and glared around the bullpen of agents raising his cane for emphasis, "Not another word about me and my partner, ok? You can make as many butt jokes as you want, but if I hear that any of you are talking about me and Dr. Brennan, I hope you'll enjoy being posted to Alaska." There was dead quiet and then a smile flickered across Booth's face, "Good, I'm glad that's clear."
As the door to his office closed behind them, Brennan crossed her arms over her chest, "That wasn't really necessary, Booth. I don't need you to defend me," This was just another example of his alpha male tendencies oozing out and it confused her that she was both flattered and offended by what he had just done.
Booth eased himself into his chair onto his inflatable doughnut, "I have no doubt that you can defend yourself, Bones," He smiled at her as she came over and sat on the corner of his desk facing him and allowed him to lace his fingers with hers, "They're just jealous that I'm with you."