Here it is!
I just have to say that the comments have been superextra adorable this time round (mainly due to my exam-induced absence for a few days) and that I love ya'll!!!
Marnie, smee, Madisme, Emily and everybody else who I couldn't reply to (please get an account so I can reply! Your words really mean a lot to me!) and all the newcomers (there seem to be so many lately) who claim they read 35 chaps of fic in one day: CONGRATS, YOU RTW!!!
Here it is.
*takes deep breath and quietly runs away*
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CHAPTER 36
We sat together. In times of great stress or trial, humanity has always shown that unity is the only way to survive. Time after time, everywhere around the world, I have learnt this about us: we've proven that we turn to one another because we cannot bear to be alone.
So now we sat together, in her office, a reminder with four walls. Hodgins sat on the couch, murdering the floor, and Cam stood next to him, she didn't like sitting still.
Sweets had surprisingly chosen her chair, where she sat and told us why, how or who had been murdered. He was shifting uncomfortably, unable to decide whether he should try and switch the computer on.
Booth was also sitting on a sofa, because I'd made him. He looked tired but determined, and as alert as any of us.
And me…?
I stood in the middle, issuing instructions, commands, questioning, bouncing theories off of every person in the room, encouraging ideas. I had taken control with decision, and it was time to do what we did best.
"Hodgins, I need you on this. Go and organise the contents of Bram's apartment by priority significance. The only criteria is to be possible locations where he'd take Angela. Remember, relevance."
In a swift motion, Hodgins left, not without looking at me in silent thanks. I nodded, feeling terribly sorry for him. It wasn't a feeling that would help get Angela, but he really did love her. That was obvious… even to me.
"Sweets, I know you're not an expert, but if you could listen to the recording we have from Angela's phone call, that would be helpful. Not just your psychological opinion, anything you hear that's out of the ordinary and can help us narrow the area where Bram could be, any insight at all…"
"What about me?" Cam said sharply.
"Using Angela's computer, I'd like you to try calculate the approximate extent of the area we should search. It's a half hour radius from the hospital. You're intelligent, Dr Saroyan, and you've worked in the city before, as a cop. Please. I know it's not your field of expertise, but try. He's a gardener… he doesn't have high income but he owns a house…" I stopped. My mind rang with the words. "He's a gardener…"
I reeled with shock at a sudden, insane idea which took hold of me.
A week ago I asked Hodgins about the hairs Bram had sent us, and he replied: "There's pollen from four different plants at least, none of which are usually found in similar regions…"
Anne Stoker looked frightened and strong and said. "If he leaves, I'm locked inside the cellar with a bottle of water, and I can scream my lungs out but he doesn't care. I never know where he keeps my mom. I never see her."
I realised her slip. "You said cellar? We're in a house, then." And she flinched…
Booth burst into my nightmare room, bringing with him the light and the sound, and life… and framing him, a brown-green canopy of unkempt lawn hinted at a tiny garden without any well-nurtured plants…
I was back on the lab, demanding facts from Hodgins and he said "Also, Bram doesn't own any other property than his house, which isn't exactly a mansion…"
Where had the pollen come from, if it wasn't from his own garden? He didn't work anymore, obviously since Margaret Stoker fired him he'd been unemployed. So how…?
How to confirm my hypothesis? How to turn it into a truth? My body shook with the realisation: maybe I'd just realised where Frank Bram could be… or at least, a way to find out where he was.
"I'm on it, Brennan." Cam shoved Sweets away and turned the computer on, bringing me back from my thoughts with a slap.
"Bones, I'm going with Hodgins." Booth said, standing from the couch. "He needs someone who's not a scientist to check the criteria, and… he needs someone."
"Thank you, Booth."
Before he left the room, he paused by my side and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. I closed my eyes, to retain the momentary peace, like a balming coolness, his touch brought. But then he drew away and walked over to the platform, to help Hodgins.
"What will you do, Brennan?" Cam asked.
"I'm going to call the FBI, and then I'm going to interrogate Kevin Stoker's killer."
"By yourself?" Sweets asked.
"Booth is in no condition to perform his usual duties, and if I have to I'll ask Agent Keller to help me I will. But if I have to punch the truth out of Bram's friend, I'll do that too." I said coldly.
"Okay. I'll call you with constant updates." Cam said.
"Thank you, Cam."
So I left, not quick enough that I didn't hear the speakers turn on, a rush of static, and then it started all over again, after four rings of the phone:
"Help!" Angela said, her voice strained. "I don't know where I am but it's quiet and-"
I took out my cell phone as I strode out of the Jeffersonian. For a moment, after the main automatic doors slid open, I turned to see Hodgins and Booth on the platform. My partner was looking at something Hodgins pointed on the computer screen, then pointing at the items on the exam tables: clothes, bags, a lamp, among many other things. Booth didn't see me watching him, he was busy nodding his agreement and supporting my friend. Suddenly I was gripped with another image, a very visual, very clear image. In an instant I saw it, and then it was gone.
I stood on a thin line, like a cord, and I ran, ignoring gravity and the fact that it was quite possible for me to fall. I couldn't see the ground, and I couldn't feel the sky, I only looked forward. Booth ran behind me, his hand clasped in mine, not struggling to keep up at all, instead easily matching my pace. We didn't look at each other, because we already knew perfectly well that we counted on the other to survive.
We just ran.
Not from anything.
And then the real Booth caught my eye. The doors began sliding shut behind me and I didn't try and stop them, I didn't walk to him again, because that would just make it harder for me to leave. He trusted me, and gave me a small nod of encouragement and support right before the doors closed. I realised that he would be fine, here.
And that he knew exactly why I'd lied to Cam and Sweets, and where I was really going.
I dialled the number.
"Hi, my name is Dr Temperance Brennan, I work for Jeffersonian Institution… yes, I need to speak to Special Agent Keller, immediately. Of course I should be in your records. Yes, I'll hold, thank you. Agent Keller? I need a favour… yes, I know I'm not involved in the investigation anymore… just listen to me, my friend has been taken captive and… of course we informed the FBI, Dr Camille Saroyan called you minutes ago…! See? Okay, I need you to interrogate Kevin Stoker's killer, Mr Bram's friend. Because he might know possible locations where Mr Bram could have taken Angela Montenegro. Yes, I know there's already a special unit in charge or the investigation… please, Agent Keller. Please, at least supervise his questioning. Because I believe you are very good at what you do, and I don't trust anyone else to do it…. Agent Booth is in hospital. I'm not lying."
I hung up and ran to my car.
I wasn't going to interrogate that killer. I wasn't very good at that sort of thing, and I knew when I was being unhelpful.
So where was I going, you might wonder?
"Hello, this is Dr Temperance Brennan with the Jeffersonian institute. Yes, I know, I'd just like to inform you that I'm coming to visit one of your inmates for a very, very important matter. It concerns the FBI Agent this man shot. I am his partner, and I am participating in the investigation regarding the motive for the shooting. Phillip Black, exactly. It's urgent, as I'm sure the Bureau has already specified. No? Well, I'll be here in fifteen minutes and it's incredibly important that I speak to him. I believe visiting hours are in forty-five minutes? Yes, well this is an emergency. Agent Keller must be about to call, then. Any minute, yes. Thank you. No. Because I'm married. Goodbye."
I'd just told four lies in one minute, and didn't feel one hint of regret.
I stepped on the accelerator and drove away.
*
My fingernails tapped on the cool flat surface. I'd been in the Washington DC Penitentiary Visitor's wing before, to see my father and Russ. The glass gave me a somewhat distorted translucent reflection of my face. I looked pale, tired, and surprisingly thin. My cheekbones had become more prominent because of the reduction in the amount of tissue of my risorius and the zygomaticus major facial muscles. My eyes looked, as a result, larger. My hair was curled slightly on the edges, because I hadn't dried it properly after my shower. I looked like a ghost, but a live one. Not that the paradox makes any sense.
"Dr Brennan." A horrible, muffled sneer announced Phillip Black, the security guard who'd shot Booth, followed by two prison guards. Both of them stared at me like I was a rare extinct animal.
I took the phone at my right and waited for Black to take his. "Why are you here, bitch? Did he die?" he said immediately.
"You missed, idiot. I just wish your life depended on your aim."
"Then why are you here, lady scientist? Unless it's just for small talk."
I took a deep, determined breath.
"Frank Bram asked you to shoot my partner. I don't care why you did it, or how he got you to do it knowing you'd get caught. I really don't. But you had a job. You had a life, a future. Now you have nothing, you'll be in here for at least attempted murder, and that's a very long time. That means something. You're the only person Bram convinced to do something as radical as this. Kevin Stoker's cellmate was already in jail. Sure, Frank got other people to lie, but this… to kill for him?"
As I spoke, Black looked more and more nervous.
"To actually murder someone for him…? That means something. A bond. Some kind of friendship. I… I hate psychology, but this has to be the sign, right? This is like emotional proof. It means something. Do you want to know what it means?" I said, leaning closer to the glass until my uneven, strained breathing fogged a small space the radius of a small coin.
"What?" he croaked, caught, completely caught in my voice.
"It means you are the only person who might know where he is."
But then it broke. He laughed. He actually had the never to throw back his head like a cartoon and laugh in my face.
"I want to know where Bram is, Phillip!" I said.
"Listen honey, I don't see any incentive from you to tell the truth. Hell, to say a single word."
"He's not at his apartment." My fingers were white against the phone I was clutching to my ear. "Where would he go? There are no other places registered in his name, he doesn't own anything…"
"I said, I have no reason to answer any of your questions, lady scientist."
"He doesn't own anything, right? Just a house? He has no other property?" I repeated. The conclusion I'd come to in the lab began to take shape. I'd been right to come here. Black did know. He was the confirmation I needed, the final proof.
He stared at me as I thought furiously, cataloguing the evidence in my mind to make sure, again, that I was right, that it fir, and he didn't answer my question, but for once that meant something. Booth had said a long time ago than no answer usually meant 'yes'. I hadn't appreciated his use of the word usually, because it was uncertain and there could always be exceptions. But this time, I realised, Black's answer was clear.
"He's a gardener, but he lives in a house with a tiny garden. He has to keep plants. Right?" I said, my voice shaking as the emotion took control of my vocal chords.
Black hung up the phone.
"Where?" I shouted. "Where, Black!"
He didn't tell me. Really, I only saw him mouth the words through the thick glass. But I knew what he meant, even as I came to that conclusion myself.
"Where do you keep plants, lady scientist?"
Frank Bram had to own a greenhouse.
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People, it's coming to the climax. Brace yourselves, it's explosive (not literally, of course). I'm so happy I've shared this story with you all!!!
I think you know me well enough by now to know I'll ask for a review. So I totally won't, since you know me so well! ;)