Brennan slid out of the cruiser and thanked the patrol cop for the ride. The building she stood outside was not dark and dirty, as Cam had made her believe a New York City morgue would be, though it was clearly not modern. Brennan had never been to this place before, though she had spent time at the forensic biology lab in New York. She could say without reservation that the Department of Forensic Biology's offices were more what she was used to compared to where she was standing now. She took a deep breath, resettled her bag on her shoulder, and walked through the front doors.

A man in a lab coat stood in front of the reception desk looking at his watch. He looked up as the doors clattered shut behind her, and spoke. "Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes."

"I'm Sidney Perlmutter, one of the ME's on the case from this morning. Let's head down." He took off toward an elevator unceremoniously, leaving Brennan to follow him.

Brennan was used to more recognition than Perlmutter had given her. She didn't miss it. This case needed to be solved as soon as possible, and there was no need to stand on ceremony when there was a killer roaming free in New York City.

"We've gotten what little medical information we could on Bridget Hattery. Hopefully you'll be able to find something to connect the pieces we have to the woman. We've already begun running tests on the tissue and blood, so there's no use in asking about them. We'll get the results when we get them. Forensic biology is perpetually backed up—and slow—so it may be all day or all week for all I know. We really just need you to look at the bones and decipher what you can—we've taken care of the rest."

"Thank you. Do you have contact with any forensic anthropologists in the area?" Brennan was hoping that she would have someone who knew how to clean bones. There simply wasn't enough time to send them to the Jeffersonian.

"I'm just a lowly medical examiner, Dr. Brennan. I would think you would have such a contact in your rolodex." She could sense the annoyance in his tone, but ignored it. Booth would probably say she was getting a taste of her own medicine. She stepped off the elevator when it had finished its descent, following Perlmutter down a hallway that much more resembled the morgue she had expected. Down the hallway a set of fluorescent bulbs flickered, their blue-green glow illuminating a shelf of linens in irregular flashes.

Perlmutter's sneakers squeaked on the floor of the hallway. "We're in room four," he told her as he grabbed a set of disposable scrubs from a shelf. He pushed a door open and walked through, holding it for her to come in behind him.

Brennan found the scrubs in her arms as soon as she had set her bag by the door. She took a moment to look around the room. Despite the dim lighting in the hallway, this room was rather bright. Several surgical lights were hanging over the autopsy table, all of them on. Brennan slid the scrubs on over her jeans and t-shirt, and was reaching for the box of gloves Perlmutter was holding out to her when a woman bustled through the door.

"Lanie, where have you been?" Perlmutter asked her.

The woman completely ignored him. "Oh, Dr. Brennan! I'm so glad to meet you! Lanie Parrish, M.E.," she said, putting a hand out.

Brennan extended her own hand, which was shaken very vigorously before it was let go. "Thank you."

"I was just so excited when Kate told me you would be coming down to help. Of course, we hold our own down here, but you are legendary in the field of forensic anthropology and it's just simply not what I specialize in. Obviously I specialize in forensics, since I'm a medical examiner, but I've never received any training in anthropology. Honestly, I can't wait to see you work."

This was the sort of greeting that Brennan was used to getting. While she understood the medical examiner's enthusiasm, Brennan wished she would direct it more towards her job. Or perhaps imbibe less caffeine in the morning. "Well, then, let's do." Brennan grabbed herself a pair of gloves and slipped them on, stepping over to the autopsy table where Perlmutter was standing, cataloguing samples. "Dr. Parrish, could you please set up any medical history x-rays or dental records? I'll need them to compare. I'll also need to clean some of these bones by hand, so I'll need maceration tools and several containers of clean water for soaking them."

"I'd be happy to assist, Dr. Brennan," Lanie said from across the room.

"That won't be necessary. I prefer to do it myself when I don't have a specialized forensic anthropology assistant. Less mistakes are made." Brennan stood still and simply took in the remains of Bridget Hattery. She knew it was in fact the remains of the girl, but she needed to prove it—forensically. Perlmutter continued his work next to her quietly, and she appreciated his non-invasive presence. She could hear papers shuffling behind her and the click of a computer mouse as Lanie organized the medical records. When she had mentally catalogued what was present on the autopsy table, she turned around to face Lanie.

Lanie stood next to a large, flat-screen TV that showed several open windows. "We only have one set of skeletal x-rays, Dr. Brennan, and I'm not sure how much help they will be. They're from her pediatrician, she broke her wrist when she was a child."

"But we don't have her wrists," Brennan said.

"Exactly. We do have dental records as well, and x-rays from about a decade ago from her dentist."

"No skull." Brennan realized she was going to have to get creative.

"The rest," Lanie said, bring up several more windows on the television, "are miscellaneous medical reports from pediatricians and doctors. The only one I can imagine being helpful is the gynecological report from several years back. It seems like she hadn't been to a doctor in some time."

"Addicts often forgo medical care in favor of the rush of hard drugs. This isn't altogether uncommon, Dr. Parrish."

Lanie didn't reply.

Brennan supposed the look she was getting was a bit attitudinal. That's what Booth would say. "What did the gynecological report say? We do have a pelvis."

"That she had a baby at 17."

"That can help us narrow it down, but it's not enough. We could bring in the child and do some DNA comparison."

"She gave the child up for adoption. It would take a while to track her down—if it's even possible."

"Anything else from the doctor?"

"She went to this gynecologist with pain, and after checking her for PID he thought perhaps she had a diastasis of the symphysis pubis. He scheduled her for x-rays, but it looks like she never went back."

"That's good. We'll start with the pelvis then. Dr. Perlmutter, have you finished cataloguing evidence from the pubic bones?" Brennan turned back to the autopsy table.

"It's all yours," he replied.

"And you've done x-rays?"

"Of course, Dr. Brennan. We usually follow protocol around here." His dry tone amused her. People did not usually talk to her like that.

"Please send any and all duplicate samples to the Jeffersonian Institute right away. They can analyze as well and we'll have multiple test results to compare." Brennan set the pelvis on a metal tray and turned back to Lanie. "Maceration tools? Water? We have a killer on the loose, Dr. Parrish, so let's get things going."

Lanie arched an eyebrow, but uncrossed her arms and bustled out of the room.

Brennan set down the tray, and turned back to the TV screen. She absently wondered what Booth was doing. Knowing that thinking of Booth would only get her mind off-track, she ran through the list of recovered body parts again in her head; pubic bones, upper and lower legs. She could get height from the leg bones. With that and the age range she could get from the pelvis, she could make a determination. But she wanted to be sure—without any doubt—that she had Bridget Hattery on this table. Booth, Rick and Kate would need her to have infallible evidence. And she couldn't count on finding any more of the missing girl. If she only had the arms. The wrist break would be definitive. She pulled up the pediatrician's report, correctly assuming that the board had touch-screen capabilities. Glancing through it, she stopped suddenly at the words "heavy bruising on knee—patient only notes typical bruise-related soreness." The patella could show signs of damage. She made a mental note to have the current leg x-rays brought up as soon as she had the pelvis in to soak.

"Dr. Brennan?" Perlmutter asked from beside the autopsy table.

She turned.

"I found a tooth."

A/N: Did you think I'd given up on this story? I'm sure some of you may have. But I'm still here. This chapter was short, I know, but since I'm not a scientist there is a limited amount of medical lingo I can include before I start to confuse myself. I will say that the number of hits I have been getting has stayed really strong. I was not expecting that since it had been so long since I posted a chapter! It really motivated me to get back into the swing of writing. So please keep reading, keep reviewing, keep subscribing-it keeps me going. Thanks!