(After 'The Change in the Game')

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I don't own Bones.

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It took two days before Garret County Sheriff Guzzardo called Booth back with information about the victim who was waiting to be identified at the Lab. I got the information I needed when I checked in with one of our libraries. The young man's name is Willie Autrey. He comes into the Grantsville branch library at least once a week with his brother and picks out several books to take home. Apparently, he has learning issues and Willie reads at about a fifth grade level but he's very enthusiastic about the books he reads. The librarian has been worried about Willie since he hasn't been in for a while. She even called the Autrey house, but whoever answered told her to mind her own business and hung up on her. She was debating whether or not to call the Sheriff's office and was relieved when I came in asking about him. I didn't tell her the boy is dead. I think we need verification first. I just told her we're looking for him.

Grateful that the Sheriff had been successful, Booth made a few notes. "Do you have any personal information about Willie?"

Yeah, he's 20, his parents are Myrtle and Grant Autrey, his twin brother's name is Billie. I'll send you an email containing their address. The boy didn't go to school. He was home schooled which explains why the schools didn't have any information about him. I haven't contacted the parents yet. I called you to find out if you want to do that with me.

"Yes, I would. It's about a three hour drive but give me four just in case traffic is bad." Booth checked his watch. "I have to pick up my partner, so look for us to be there at about one or so. I'll call you when I get in town."

Got it. Call me if you're going to be delayed.

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They met the sheriff in front of his office and they drove to the Autrey house from there. Once they were parked in front of the house, Booth exited the truck with Brennan and waited for the Sheriff to join them. "Nice . . . a lot of woods in the area. It would be a nice place to grow up in as a young boy." Booth had been raised in cities and he didn't get the chance to play in the woods when he was growing up. He'd played games in the street or in someone's yard.

Dreading to tell the parents that their child might be dead, Sheriff Guzzardo shook Booth and Brennan's hand before crossing the yard to the front door. "I don't know these people. They keep to themselves and don't cause trouble . . . I hate this part of the job."

"Yeah, it's not my favorite either." Booth loved his job but telling someone that their loved one was dead could be bad. He usually used the opportunity to watch the reactions of the relatives since it was a fact that most victims were killed by people they knew, but he felt bad for the family members who actually mourned the loss of their loved one.

Brennan carried a folder in her hand containing a picture of their victim. She hoped that they finally had a name for the young man who had died in the woods. He needed to be returned to his family and given closure. Now up on the porch, she knocked on the door and stepped toward the side so whoever opened the door would see the Sheriff.

The door opened quickly and a young man who looked remarkably like their victim answered the door. "Yeah?" The man seemed to be nervous and he kept licking his lower lip.

Stepping closer to the door, Sheriff Guzzardo nodded his head. "I'm Sheriff Guzzardo. Are your parents home? I need to speak to them."

After hesitating for a moment, the young man stepped back and allowed his visitors to enter the house. "I'm Billie Autrey. Wait here." Moving into the kitchen, Billie closed the door behind him.

A few moments later, two older people hurried into the room. The woman, Myrtle Autrey rushed forwards wiping her hands on a hand towel. "Are you here about Willie? Have you found him.? Billie called you people when Willie disappeared but you haven't seemed to lift a finger to find him."

"Ma'am, I'm here about Willie, but we never received a call reporting Willie missing." The Sheriff stared at the younger man and noticed the embarrassment, the flushed cheeks, the way he kept his eyes on the floor. "When did you report him missing, son?"

Barely able to speak, Billie whispered his answer. "I didn't report it. I thought he ran away from home. He was always talking about leaving. He hated being treated like a child."

"What do you mean he talked about leaving?" The man who had entered the room, clenched his fists. "You didn't report your brother was missing? You told me you did it for us."

"No sir." Billie looked up and over at his father. "You're always treating Willie likes he's a little kid. He's a man and he wanted to be treated like one. He was a little slow, but he could learn. You just didn't want to bother that's all."

Furious, Grant Autrey stepped closer to his son. "We were protecting him. He's not right in the head and you know it."

"He's slow but he's not stupid." Billie was angry and he could barely control it. "When I showed him stuff he learned it, you never had the patience that's all."

Before more words were spoken, Myrtle shouted. "Shut up! Both of you just be quiet." Turning to face the Sheriff and the people behind him, she gripped the towel tightly and swallowed. "Willie is dead isn't he?"

"We think so, Ma'am." Booth took the folder from Brennan and pulled out a picture of their victim. "We have a picture we'd like you to look at. Of course, it's just a picture and we'd like a DNA sample from you or Mr. Autrey to make sure."

Her hands shaking, Myrtle took the picture and stared at it. "It's my boy, Willie." She sobbed and sat down on the chair next to her. "How did he die?"

"We still need to do some DNA tests, but if this is Willie, he died in what looks like a hunting accident in the Savage River State Forest. He was shot with an arrow and it severed his femoral artery." Brennan believed that the parents needed to be told the truth.

Feeling sick, Billie held his hand over his mouth and swallowed, while his parents cried. "He . . . he took a backpack with him. I didn't see him leave or I'd have tried to talk him out of it, but I noticed his backpack was gone from the closet and so are some of his clothes and shoes. He also had a box with some money that he'd saved from mowing lawns. The money's gone."

"We didn't find the backpack with Willie and we didn't find any money on him." Sheriff Guzzardo pulled a notebook from his jacket pocket. "What color was the backpack?"

"Blue with a red stripe down the middle."

"How much money did he have saved?"

"About $423. He's been saving for a long time." Billie sighed. "He is . . . was a hard worker. I offered to get him a job where I work, but I think he wanted to live on his own to prove to everyone that he could do it. He was stubborn . . . You got to understand, he was slow, but he wasn't stupid."

Booth could see that Billie was trying to make them see that his brother wasn't someone to pity. "When did you notice him missing?"

"About six weeks ago . . . April 12th." Billie glanced at his parents. "I thought he might be out mowing lawns or helping Mr. Miller cut back the branches in his oak trees. He'd promised he'd help. Mr. Miller pays good money to anyone that works for him . . . When it was dinner time and he hadn't come home, I searched the neighborhood, but I couldn't find him. Dad and Mom were at work and right before they came home, I checked his bedroom and found his backpack and clothes were missing . . . When they came home, I told them I'd called the police to report Willie missing, but I didn't do that. I wanted him to do what he wanted to do. He's a man and he should be treated like one . . . I'm sorry Sheriff, I should have called you. Maybe he'd be alive if I had."

"I don't think so." Brennan responded to Billie's statements. "It appears he died the day he disappeared. Calling the Sheriff's office wouldn't have made a difference." Everyone could see the relief on the young man's face. "Was Willie a hunter?"

"No ma'am." Billie glanced at his parents and then back at Brennan. "He hated killing anything. It made him cry." The young man shrugged his shoulders. "Willie loved animals and most animals loved him."

Booth took over the conversation. "He was wearing camo, why did Willie wear camo if he wasn't a hunter?"

The young man responded with a sad smile. "He had a cheap camera our grandmother gave him when he was fourteen. He liked to take pictures and he wore camo so he could sneak up on deer and birds to take their picture. He has an album if you want to see it. We used to walk around the state forest when we had time so he could take pictures . . . I haven't had time lately. I have a job and work nights. I usually sleep until around three in the afternoon, do some laundry for Mom and cook dinner. I usually leave before my parents come home. I haven't see them much lately. My folks are home today because our Uncle Ray died and we went to his funeral this morning."

It seemed like the older couple were coming out of a fog. "Do you think someone killed him for his backpack and money?"

Grant shook his head. "If someone was in trouble, my boy would have given them the money. He loved to help people and he could be generous. He did odd jobs around the neighborhood and people knew that they could count on him to do a good job . . . He was slow, but like my son said, he wasn't stupid. I probably should have told that to Willie." Tears streaming down his face, Grant hugged his arms against his chest. "I tried to protect him, but I guess you can't protect someone if they don't want to be protected." Moving over to the chair where his wife sat, Grant knelt in front of her. "I'm sorry our Willie is gone. I'm sorry I didn't treat him like I should have. I just wanted to protect him, but . . . He was a man and he wanted to be treated like one. I can see I was wrong to treat him like a child. I'm sorry."

Myrtle leaned forward and pressed her forehead against her husband's head. "We both treated him like a child. Now he'll be our little boy for the rest of our lives. He'll never grow old."

Turning to stare at Billie, Booth cleared his throat. "Billie can we look at Willie's room? I need you to help us. I need to know if anything else is missing from his room."

"Sure . . . his camera is missing. I forgot to mention that." Billie waved at the group near the door. "It's this way." Walking down the hallway, Billie arrived at a closed door. "This is his room." He opened the door. "His camera was yellow, one of those sports cameras. His initials are on the inside where you load film. We've had to order film online because stores around here don't sell it anymore. Mr. Miller has a room in his house where he can develop film. He used to be a professional photographer."

His notebook in his hand, Booth made a note about the camera. "Okay, good to know."

Once the room was searched by Billie, it was determined that there was also a hand carved checkerboard and checkers missing. The board folded into a box to hold the checkers. "There's a carving of a deer on the inside of the box where the checkers were kept. It belonged to my grandfather. No one else wanted it when he died, so Willie took it. He liked to play checkers."

Booth jotted down that information too. The Sheriff also made a note about the checkerboard and the camera. "Thanks for letting us see the room, Billie." Sheriff Guzzardo had got the information he was looking for. Once they were outside, he turned to look at Booth and Brennan. "I'll check some pawn shops I know about. We might luck out."

"Thanks Sheriff." Booth glanced at the front door. "Keep me informed. Willie was killed on state property and the state police should be handling this case, but I'd like to help finish it if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all." The Sheriff walked over to his car, turned to face the partners who were approaching their SUV. "At least Willie's parents know he's dead and he's not just a runaway."

In agreement, Booth nodded his head. "Yeah, it's the not knowing that can destroy you."

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