(After 'The Change in the Game')
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I don't own Bones.
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Another case had come up and since Sheriff Guzzardo was having pawnshops checked in his county by his deputies for the checkers set and the camera, Booth set the Willie Autrey case aside for the moment. The body of a young girl had been found lying under a stone bridge in Rock Creek Park. The body had been jammed next to the abutment of the bridge on a small patch of dry land. The rain had been sparse lately so the creek was running lower than normal. The body had been visible to a hiker who had moved off the bridge and stood on the banks of the creek to take pictures. The hiker reported it to the D.C. police who upon arriving at the scene secured the site then contacted the FBI. Rock Creek Park is a national park and the FBI has jurisdiction.
Because he wanted to protect his shoes, Booth pulled on some rubber boots he kept in his SUV and followed Brennan down to the crime scene. He had parked on the road several yards from the bridge behind several vehicles including the Jeffersonian van that Cam used. A police officer intercepted the partners once Booth and Brennan approached the bridge and pointed towards a path near the bridge that would take them down to the creek. "Watch your step, it's a little rocky . . . there's a tree stump between some rocks and the bridge, but you can get around it or you can cross the bridge and go down the path on the other side."
Careful to keep an eye on her feet, Brennan led the way down the embankment to the strip of land next to the abutment of the bridge. Once she was at the base of the bridge she could see Cam squatting next to the body while Hodgins was slowly walking around the body collecting whatever he thought might have a connection to the victim.
"She was shot." Cam pointed at several techs who were wading in the water. The techs were leaning over and staring at the creek bed as they walked slowly up or down stream. "They're looking for the gun just in case the shooter decided to throw it in the water. Others are looking in the woods."
"If the shooter is smart, he didn't dump it here. The water is too shallow to hide a weapon." Booth stood near the edge of the abutment close to the tree stump to keep out of the way. "Know what kind of a gun are we looking for?"
Her hand resting next to the gunshot wound, Cam cocked her head to the side. "Small bore . . . something like a Glock . . . maybe. We'll have to do tests back at the lab. No exit wound, so the bullet might still be in the body."
"The victim appears to be between the ages of 30 and 40." Brennan used her gloved hands and inspected the victim's hands. "Her clothes and shoes are damp . . . She has bruises on her knuckles and fingers. I see what might be flesh under the fingernails." Careful to protect the hands, she placed evidence bags around the victim's hands and secured them with rubber bands. "I think she fought with her attacker."
Glad to hear that, Booth made a few notes in his notebook. "Good for her. She didn't go down without a fight. I hope she gave us something to find her attacker."
"We'll do DNA tests on the matter under her fingernails at the Lab." First pulling up the victim's shirt sleeves, she noticed some bruises on the lower arms. Next, she pulled the shirt up to just where the wound was. The bruising along the ribs seemed to confirm her theory. "She was punched in her ribs and abdomen before she died. She didn't let her attacker kill her without a fight."
Impressed, Booth nodded his head. "This doesn't seem like a good place to hide a body. My gut tells me she was killed close by and the killer ditched the body here for convenience. It's a popular park, so the killer couldn't lug a body around and not risk being seen."
One of the techs, busy searching for the gun, straightened and called out to the group under the bridge. "Looks like blood here." Grimly pointing at the flat rock next to her feet, she knew that she had found something important. "This rock is above the water and the blood is dry." Moving over to another rock nearby, she pointed at that one too. "More blood."
Wading out into the stream, Hodgins slogged over to the large flat rock, found the blood the tech was talking about and took several samples. "Booth, I think we've found the crime scene . . . I'll take enough samples from both rocks to make sure I have enough. A hard rain could wash this away."
Not interested in getting wet, Booth stayed where he was. "So, the victim and the killer fight on the rocks or in the stream. He knocks her down and pulls a gun. Shoots her, drags her body over here and then leaves." Moving closer to the strip of land below the body, Booth noticed what looked like faint drag marks on the soil. Taking his phone out of his jacket pocket, he leaned over and took pictures. "Drag marks . . . I think you're right, bug boy." After he placed his phone back in his pocket, he took out his notebook and sketched the area. He knew the techs had taken pictures, but he liked to make a quick sketch of the things that might be important to him and his investigation.
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Done at the crime scene, Cam gave instructions to have the body removed from the scene and Booth and Brennan returned to his SUV. Once they were there, Booth removed his rubber boots and pulled his shoes back on. "Rubber boots make my feet hurt, no arch support."
Her kit now in the back of the truck, Brennan walked around the SUV and entered the passenger side. Once her partner was in the driver's seat, Brennan jotted down a few quick notes in a notebook and sighed. "The victim might be pregnant. We'll know once the autopsy is complete."
Pulling out onto the road, Booth navigated around Cam's van and slowly drove across the bridge. "Boyfriend . . . husband, over 55% of women killed in this country are killed by current or former boyfriends or husbands. 16% are killed by strangers. That's a hell of a statistic. Women have more to fear from people that are supposed to love them." Booth's thoughts were suddenly filled with screams from his mother while his father beat her. He knew he would never forget the fear in her voice, the pain and the crying. "I'll never hurt you, Bones. I could never do that. I'd die first."
Surprised, Brennan shifted in her seat to stare at her partner. "Booth, I am not afraid of you and I know you would never hurt me. You are not your father."
"No, I'm not my father." Shaking his head, Booth pushed those hideous memories from his past back into their dark spaces. "Sometimes these cases hit a little too close to home . . . I'm alright."
"Yes, you are." She knew that her partner had a temper and that he tried to keep that under control as much as possible. She had never seen him say an unkind word to his son and she knew that Parker loved his father. Booth wasn't abusive and never could be. "If she is pregnant, we can compare the DNA from the fetus with the material found under the victim's fingernails. That will tell us if the fetus and her attacker are related . . . If a pregnant woman is killed by her partner then statistically it more common for that to occur when she is younger than 30 years old. There are exceptions to that of course . . . We will find her killer, Booth. This won't go unanswered."
"No, no it won't." Angry, Booth exhaled deeply. "If she is . . . was pregnant then we have two victims, her and her baby. I will get this guy."
They rode in silence for a few moments, the beautiful scenery surrounding them as they drove through the woods. Once they were out of the park, Booth glanced at Brennan and cleared his throat. "How long do you think you're going to go out in the field now that you're pregnant?"
"I think I can work until my eighth month." Brennan heard Booth's gasp of surprise and looked at him. "I am healthy and unless there are complications, I don't see why I can't work until my eighth month."
"Bones, we work at crime scenes. Maybe you should consider staying at the Lab after your sixth month." He wanted to say stop going to crime scenes now, but he knew that was unrealistic.
Annoyed, Brennan glared at her partner. "Most women work until their eighth month, Booth. Some work until a week before they're due. Crimes scenes are not dangerous. There are police officers or Sheriff's deputies or FBI agents there and of course you are there. No one is going to attack me at a crime scene. As long as I am healthy and the fetus is healthy, then I will continue to do my job. That is not open to discussion."
"At least call the fetus a baby, Bones." Annoyed himself, Booth gripped his steering wheel and silently counted backwards from twenty. Once that was done, Booth sighed. "Fine, have it your way. You always do."
"Yes, I do." Brennan hated to be told what to do. She didn't see why an adult woman couldn't be allowed to control her own life. "I'm not going to do anything to endanger our fetus . . . our baby, Booth. If there are situations which I deem are too dangerous then I will stay in the Lab. That needs to be my decision, not yours."
Since he didn't have a choice, Booth nodded his head. "Alright." He knew that the next eight months were going to drive him crazy when it came to Brennan's safety, but he would try to be there to protect her. He would always protect her.
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