Chapter 13

Booth's fists clenched and he pounded one on the table. His face was twisted in anger and he continued to shout.

"I know you know something Mr. Webster! Tell me or you're going to find yourself in a lot of trouble!" But the man refused to budge. It was time for a new tactic.

"You know, I shouldn't get so worked up. What do I care if you go to prison?" The FBI Agent loosened his tie and sat down.

"There are some great people in prison. You know you're cellmate Bubba will have a nice little game you can play. If that doesn't work, someone else will definitely want to play. Of course, I could just let it slip that you tortured and murdered seven women or was it little girls?" Booth could see Webster getting very uncomfortable. A little more pushing and the man would crack.

"I'll be there when they stick the needle in your arm that way the last thing you see will be by big smile, you sick bastard." Booth pushed back in his seat and stood up heading for the door, waiting for Webster to crack in 5…4…3…2…

"All right!" A smile crossed the FBI Agent's face.

"I had nothing to do with it, I swear. I got work at my usual time of six a.m. and I walked around the site as I always do. There was this guy with a muddy shovel leaving the site and I called for him to stop. He ran away before I could get to him. I didn't know he buried a body until one of my men found it." Webster spilled his guts. Booth moved back to the table and leaned over the desk putting his hands inches from the man on the other side of the table. He looked into the man's eyes; the fear in them was undeniable. If Webster had actually committed the crime he would have been solid and stoic. This guy was falling apart.

"Why didn't you just tell me that in the first place?" Booth asked.

"I can't get involved in something like this. If that guy comes after me, what am I going to do? I've got a wife and kids." Webster told him.

"Do you think you can give us an accurate description of him?" The FBI Agent asked. Webster nodded and Booth told him he'd send a sketch artist in.

Brennan stood behind the one-way glass. She had watched Booth work and she never failed to be amazed at his work. If she had been in there, she'd probably lose her cool and never get the guy to talk. Booth had the little games he'd play and catch them.

"Well hopefully he'll give us a decent description. I want to get this guy. For all we know, he already has another victim in his sights." The G-man interrupted her thoughts. A grim look crossed her face.

"What was that little game you were talking about?" Brennan asked. Booth kicked himself mentally for telling Webster that whole little game thing. It had worked perfectly to get the suspect to spill what he knew but of course she would question what he was talking about. Shit! He cursed.

Brennan looked to him; she was still waiting for an explanation. Booth had to look for a way out and fast.

"It's not important. What is important is that we got him to tell us what he knew. We've gotten it down to one suspect. When the sketch artist is done, we can take it to local PDs and have them be on the lookout for this guy. With his picture out to the police, we should get lucky soon." The FBI Agent hoped the change of topic would get her mind off the game.

"Excellent but how do we tie the suspect to the other murders? There was no DNA or fingerprints on the victims." Brennan asked.

"We have to hope that we catch him before he destroys all the tools he used on the victims or the place that he would torture and kill them. With any luck we can pin a bloody hammer on him or something." Booth sounded concerned. Both knew that this step would be tough. The suspect had been incredibly careful and had not left them much to go on.

To Be Continued…