Disclaimer: Obviously it doesn't belong to me. Its all Fox's, Kathy Reichs. However I do claim ownership of the typos.
Chapter 15 – Biting
Brennan thought that she could probably have driven herself to Greenhold School blindfolded; they had been there that many times in recent days. The journey seemed to speed by, trees and houses disappearing into a blur of colour. They didn't say anything about what they had discussed in Wong Foo's; now wasn't the time. They had to prove to themselves and each other that they could still work together without letting feelings get in the way, although Brennan was sure that they'd have no problem with that.
She felt slightly more content, after the talk with Booth. The edges of what she had been undergoing after the kiss at her house had been softened, a little of the fear had been withdrawn, and when she glanced at the man beside her she felt a sudden rush; a combination of excitement, lust, fear and worry. She rationalised herself out of the worry and fear part, if only for a minute. Angela was right; Booth was right, this didn't happen very often.So far she had gone several years as an adult without this having ever happened before. But now it had, and she was either going to have to learn to deal, or dig her head back into the sand and remain lonely with her old bones.
The former choice seemed preferable. Booth seemed willing to give it a go, to take a chance on her, even if she lacked some of the attributes of other girlfriends he had had. That both scared her and made her feel like she was worth several million dollars at the same time. He would be with her in this every step of the way. He had never failed to protect her, he had never hurt her, and she trusted him, always, to do what was right, and to do what was right for her.
She watched his face as he pulled up outside the school, a mixture of frustration and determination clouding his features. He hadn't said yet who he thought it was who had taken David Matthieson and murdered the two other boys. She had refrained from making a judgement; there wasn't enough evidence to suggest a suspect although she imagined that any interviews they were about to conduct would throw a little light on the matter.
Booth kept his shades on, a fact that she found rather funny after making her way inside of the school.
"You don't need those on any more," she told him, pulling them gently off of his fade.
He scowled playfully. "They add to the air of mystery," he answered, giving her a grin, she smiled back, pursing her lips slightly, finding her body responding to his in the way she held herself, the mirroring of her body language to what he was doing. She could read her own signs well. She froze, and made herself stand straight, removing the smile and trying to look solemn once more.
Booth laughed. "It won't work, you know, Bones. People can read you like a book. You keep on sending me all these little flirtatious glances, and playing with your hair when you look at me. They're gonna guess!"
She pulled a face at him, ignoring his comments.
"And I rather suspect there's been a pool going on as to whether we would – you know – hook up," he said, giving her an annoying grin.
"Did everybody know about this before me?" She asked, feeling bemused.
Booth laughed. "I think people may have had an idea, and that idea grew," Booth replied, taking the glasses off her and putting them inside his jacket.
Brennan nodded. "I need to have a word with Angela," she noted. Booth grinned.
Cullen approached them; his face serious, and he handed a file to Booth. "Agent Seagrove asked me to pass on this. I suggest you keep it to yourself; this information could do a lot of damage."
Brennan watched as Booth started to look through the file, his eyes lighting up and nodding impressively. "He's done well to find out all of this in such a short time."
Cullen smiled. "I don't think she expected anyone to actually investigate her. Her tracks weren't very well covered."
Brennan assumed that they were referring to Alexandra Dunn.
"Can I bring this up with her when she's interviewed?" Booth shook the file, emphasizing what the 'this' was.
Cullen nodded. "Bring it up by all means, but it'll be one of the fraud specialists who continues with the investigation. There's enough evidence to arrest her."
Booth smiled like a child who had just been given his most desired Christmas present. "She doesn't know that we know any of this yet?" He asked.
"She's unaware, yes," Cullen looked at Brennan. "Is she going in the interviews with you?"
"She's my partner," Booth said, his expression changing. "Of course she is."
Cullen regarded them both. "Quite inseparable these days, aren't you, Agent Booth?"
Booth smiled sweetly. Brennan realised what Cullen was insinuating and wondered if he'd had a bet on when they would get together too. "We'll start with Mrs Sanderson," Booth announced. "I doubt she's anything to do with it, but she's worked here longer than anyone else. She may have her own suspicions."
"Are you sure it's someone from the school?" Brennan found herself interrupting.
Cullen sighed. "In ninety nine percent of murders the perpetrator is either family or someone close to the child. We need to eliminate the people here first before we start pulling people off the streets," he looked at Booth. "One other thing – there were no signs of David Matthieson being harmed in any way, other than being drugged with dopamine."
"These killings weren't sexually motivated then," Booth said, looking thoughtful.
"It could be a woman," Brennan suggested.
Booth shrugged. "It could be. I have my ideas."
"Mrs Sanderson is in her classroom. She asked to be left in there so she could get some work done. I actually think that these teachers consider the real work to take place when their students aren't in, some of them actually seem grateful that we sent the kids home!" Cullen said, his nose turning up slightly at the word 'teachers'.
"We'll be with her then," Booth stopped mid-stride and turned to Cullen. "Where's her classroom support – Peter Wheeler?"
"He's in the staff room with some others of his colleagues who haven't been interviewed yet. The school has nearly forty staff so a few of them began a card game to pass the time," Cullen answered, walking in the direction of the principal's office.
Brennan followed Booth down the corridor to Valerie Sanderson's room. The teacher was sat at her desk, an old laptop in front of her. She smiled at them as they came into the room. "Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan. Thank you for finding David," she said, standing up and pointing to two chairs at a table she had pushed together.
"We need to ask you a few more questions," Booth began, taking the seat. Brennan stayed silent, watching the woman's movements as she sat down. She appeared calm and unbothered by the confrontation. Brennan doubted that she had anything to do with the boys' murders.
"Go ahead. I will do my best to tell you anything you need," she held her palms out in front of her.
"How long have you worked in this school, Mrs Sanderson?" Booth asked. Brennan sat back and let him take charge.
"Twenty-seven years at the end of this one," she answered. "I knew Patrick, although he wasn't in my class. He was an average boy, but very nice and likeable, like most children."
"All three children seem to have been average, Mrs Sanderson. Would you agree?" Booth asked.
The teacher nodded. "I would. None of them excelled academically. None were angels, although they didn't get into any trouble either. They were normal kids."
"Have any of your colleagues shown any particular interest in any of the children?" Booth fired. Brennan noticed that his manner was aggressive and shaking Mrs Sanderson off kilter slightly. She knew that the woman seemed fair and non judgemental. Booth was trying to pressure her into letting an opinion slip.
"No, no. They treat them all the same. There's no favouritism," she replied, becoming more flustered.
"What about after school?" Booth asked.
She shook her head. "There aren't many after school activities. It's one part of the school we don't excel at – the lack of extra-curricular clubs and societies."
"Doesn't your classroom support, Mr Wheeler, have a lot to do with extra-curricular sport?" Booth prodded.
"Yes, but, he's never shown any interest in the boys like that," she looked confused.
"Mrs Sanderson, it should relieve you to know that we believe that none of the boys were sexually molested," Booth told her. A look of relief crossed her face.
"Thank God they were spared that," she said.
"In your recollection, did Thomas and Patrick attend sports clubs as well as David?" Booth asked.
She looked thoughtful, then nodded emphatically. "They did. Patrick went to a fishing club that Peter held. Thomas was involved with soccer, like David. But you can't possibly suspect Peter of harming them. He just… wouldn't."
Booth stood up. "We have to examine all of these things. Did Mr Phillips have anything to do with the children?"
She shook her head. "He's usually here in the mornings, then lives the premises until just before home time when he returns and organises the cleaners and does any jobs. He knows the teachers and other staff well, but not the kids."
Booth nodded. "Thank you, Mrs Sanderson. You're free to go."
She smiled and stood up. "I'm going to stay around longer and get some more jobs done. Days like this are rare. When the kids aren't in I can get on top of paperwork and marking without being interrupted, and I love the silence of the school." She looked a little forlorn. "Although how much longer this will be a school for after today I don't know. I doubt a lot of parents will be willing to send their children back after what happened to David."
"I don't know, Mrs Sanderson, but I'm sure you will be just fine," Booth reassured. She was a good woman, and wouldprobably be taken on anywhere.
They left the room, leaving Valerie to continue working on her computer. "She seemed nice," Brennan said, looking at her partner.
Booth nodded. "And she gave us the most useful piece of information yet," he said.
"About Mr Wheeler," Brennan confirmed. "You like him for this, don't you?"
"I have a feeling," Booth said. "I know we have no evidence, but something's just not sitting right."
Booth led the way to the janitor's office. A stench of cigarette smoke hung around outside the door, giving away the factthat Phil was in residence. Booth knocked heavily on the door and it was opened immediately.
"I wondered when you'd get to me," the booming voice said. He ushered them in and Brennan found herself sitting on the same seat as before. "I'm glad you found the kid. Now you need to get the bastard that did it," he muttered, dropping the cigarette into the dregs of a cup of coffee, the cigarette going out with a sizzle.
"We were wondering if you had any theories," Booth said. Brennan noticed how he sat back, relaxed, arms hanging back loosely.
"Well as much as I can't stand her, I doubt it's her ladyship. She's up to something, but she wouldn't knock off kids like that. You'll have your own ideas, Agent Booth, why would you be needing mine?" Phil asked, pulling another cigarette from the packet.
"Who's worked here as long as you, or nearly as long as?" Booth ignored his question.
"Val, Mary, Denise – they've all been here twenty years or more. After that it'll be Karen, Peter and Shelley. The rest are newcomers," he lit the cigarette and took a long drag.
"Do you think someone in the school could have done such a thing?" Booth asked.
Phil shrugged. "No, but I doubt that the colleagues of a lot of murderers would have said 'I always knew he was a bit dodgy' when they found out. It has to be somebody here, really."
"Who had access to the school beside you and Mrs Dunn?" Booth asked.
"No one should have, but there's nothing to say that they didn't take the spare keys and have them copied," Phil responded.
Booth nodded. "Did the school ever have a problem with vermin?"
Phil laughed. "Apart from that rat of a principal? Over thirty years back, yes."
"Have you any idea of what was used to control the problem?" Brennan broke her silence.
"It was before my time," he answered. "We keep stuff in now, but it's the recommended poison for use in schools. We have to be careful 'cause of health and safety."
"What happened to the old product you had in for that use?" Brennan asked.
Phil shrugged. "There's every chance it's been put in a cupboard somewhere. I don't claim to know every inch of this place, there's that many nooks and crannies. I keep everything I use in here."
"What about cleaning detergents. We found some in the shed where David was," Booth regained charge.
"I saw them when your forensics people took them out. They must have been taken from the stock I have here. I was around ten bottles short about nine months ago, but as I'd been off ill I put it down to the delivery not having been checked right," Phil said, dropping the cigarette butt into the same cup.
"Who would have checked the delivery if you weren't here?" Booth asked urgently.
Phil stood up and reached onto a shelf next to him, taking down a blue file. He opened it and flicked through pages. "It's this one. I circled the order but never chased it up. Never had time," he passed the open file to Booth.
Brennan looked over his shoulder and read the signature at the bottom. Peter Wheeler. Booth nodded and passed him back the file. Phil looked knowingly at him, turning around on his chair and facing his desk. "He's been a good man," he said, a little sadly. "Seemed to care a lot about the kids."
"It might not be him," Booth said, now standing, hands in pockets.
Phil gave a slight, ironic laugh. "It might be the tooth fairy."
Brennan followed Booth out of the door, feeling as though everything attached to her now smelt of smoke. "That's who you thought it was," she looked at Booth.
"He was my number one," Booth admitted. "Let's speak with the principal and let her know that she's out of job. Wheeler can sweat for a bit longer."
------------------------------------------
Alexandra Dunn was sitting in the small office generally used by her secretary, pouring over a printed document. Booth didn't bother knocking, he pushed the door open and walked in, and waving the file that Cullen had given him earlier, drawing her attention to it.
"Agent Booth, just because you have managed to hinder everyone's day and cease the learning of over three hundred children it does not mean that you can forgo common courtesy!" She snapped. Booth grinned. He was going to enjoy this very much.
"I have some questions about certain members of you staff, Mrs Dunn. Perhaps you can give me the courtesy of helping me out in this investigation, you know, rather than hindering it for a change?" He sat down, facing her, eyes glimmering dangerously. He did not like this woman; she was a nasty piece of work, over confident because of whom her husband was and although she could not be held responsible for the deaths of two boys and the kidnapping of another, she was certainly instrumental in not protecting the children in her care as well as she could.
"Go ahead and ask," she said, her eyes looking at the folder he was still holding prominently.
"Bones?" He looked at his partner. He considered Bones to be the best person to deal with this woman. He sat back and folded his arms, a smile grin crossing his face as he waited for battle to commence. Bones looked at his, uncertainty on her face. He nodded, prompting her to fire the first shot.
"How often do you look into the backgrounds of your staff, Mrs Dunn? Check with police that none of your staff have been in trouble, particularly for any offences against children?" Bones asked, her voice saying level with just a hint of an accusatory tone playing at the edges.
"It isn't a requirement that I do so, Dr Brennan. I have complete faith in my staff, their ability to do their jobs well, and that they are all of a high moral standard," she defended.
Bones nodded. "You're right – it isn't an obligation, but many principals, particularly after what happened in England with Holly Wells and Jessica Chapman, do carry out checks in order to be absolutely sure that the people they are employing are safe."
"Are you insinuating that I have not carried out my role properly, Dr Brennan? Have you discovered something about a member of my staff?" She asked in a cold voice. Booth cold see that she hands were fiddling constantly, picking at bits of skin next to her nails that were particularly short.
"I think you know whether you have fulfilled your job criteria, Mrs Dunn," Booth put the file down on the desk with a slight bang. Her eyes went to it. They had her. "How much do you get paid?"
"I don't see how that can pertain to your inquiry, Agent Booth," she said, nerves hovering at her voice.
"If I say it pertains to my inquiry, Mrs Dunn, then it pertains to my inquiry," he mocked.
"I think I need to call my husband," she said, nerves shaking her voice.
"You're not under arrest," Booth said, his fingers trailing over the blue file.
"Clearly there is something in that file that is making you smile so much, Agent Booth," she replied.
"Do you have a guilty conscience, Mrs Dunn?" Booth smirked.
"I have done nothing wrong. I have run this school to the best of my abilities. I have children who achieve, parents who are happy with what we do and a staff who are well motivated and good at their job," she defended.
"It's nothing to do with the actual running of the school, Mrs Dunn, not the day to day goings on. This file here just tells me a few things about the school's accounts. You see, we wondered why nothing had been done with the courtyard when it could have been used as a valuable teaching aid, especially as the school was given a donation some months back toward that very thing. It seems that close to a quarter a million dollars has been ciphered out of school funds over the past five years. You didn't bother to hide your tracks very well, Mrs Dunn, as a similar amount has gone through yours and your husband's bank accounts. You really are arrogant aren't you?" Booth laughed and slouched back in the chair, picking up a pen and tapping in rhythmically.
"I'm not saying any more. I thought you were here to investigate the murders and kidnapping of children, not look into innocent people's finances!" She yelled.
"Sometimes, Mrs Dunn, while looking under stones for one thing, we uncover a few other little details that give us an added bonus. I am placing you under arrest for fraud. If you care to remain seated two of my officers will escort you to your next establishment," he stood up, smiling. "Dr Brennan will keep you company until my colleagues return. I wouldn't try anything, Alexandra, she isn't as delicate as she looks," he received a glare from Bones which made him chuckle.
Booth closed the door behind him and saw the two men who would take charge of the case from here. He nodded at them; they had been waiting in the corridors after receiving instructions from Cullen to let Booth handle the initial conversation.
"I've left the handcuffs for you to put on," he told them as they walked past into he room.
"Hey, Booth," one of them stopped and turned round to him. "My bet's on Saturday – the ball. I could do with a few extra bucks." Booth moved a finger up to his neck and cut across. The officers laughed.
Bones appeared smiling victoriously once the two agents had gone into the room. "That was enjoyable," she said. Booth nodded and wondered if it was possible to pull her into his arms while no one was around or if she would cause a scene and try to put him in hospital. He pushed his hands further down into his pockets and grinned idiotically. She liked him. She was going to give it a go between them.
She gave him a look that suggested she was worried about his mental state and he ceased his grin. "Last one?" He asked, referring to Peter Wheeler. She nodded, and to his surprised linked a hand into his arm and gave it a squeeze. He smiled back her, the small touch sending a thrill through him and he knew that had anyone seen them then whoever had had Tuesday as a bet would have gotten themselves a windfall.
Peter Wheeler was the last person inside the staff room, playing a game of solitaire with a pack of cards. He was one of only three men who worked in the school, along with Phil the janitor and Dom Knight, a new teacher who had looked like a scared rabbit and had had absolutely nothing to do with either of the two boys who had been killed, having only started at the school after Elizabeth Merrell had left.
Wheeler looked anxiously at them as they went into the staff room, his face slightly reddened by the worry and the heat of the room that wasn't air conditioned. The day was hot, but witha crisp dry heat that was at the other end of the spectrum from the humidity they had been experiencing.
"Why have I been left till last?" He demanded, standing up and letting cards fall from his hands.
"That's just the way some things go," Booth answered, feeling his heart pound. This was him; he could sense it. He just had to find enough evidence to be able to arrest him and make the case stand up in court. "Take a seat, Mr Wheeler, we'll try to make this as brief as possible." He felt Bones tense up next to him and glancing at her saw that her eyes were wide and she was studying the man's every movement. He knew she had been reading up about people and body language in an attempt to improve her own people skills. She had improved - maybe he should tell her that – although he didn't want her to get any better, he liked her the way she was, and besides, he had to be better at something.
"We have a few questions we'd like to ask you," he sat down on an adjacent seat. Bones sat next to him, her body angled slightly forward.
"Go ahead, although I'm sure I can't tell you anything that you don't already know," Wheeler answered. His face had turned to stone now, his eyes shone defensively, and his body remained perfectly still. Booth had the feeling that should he ask Wheeler what colour the sky was he would be able to answer 'green' and make it sound convincing.
"What exactly happened to your wife and child?" Booth asked, preparing for the usual what relevance does this have question.
It didn't come. "My wife and son, Alan, were killed in a plane crash in Arizona fifteen years ago. I have never remarried. My life since then has been spent at his school and indulging in my hobbies," he answered. Booth wondered exactly what those hobbies were.
"Mrs Sanderson said that you were keen on fishing. Where do you like to fish?" Booth asked politely.
"Most rivers in the state. Anywhere that's good," he shrugged. "I don't have a favourite spot; I go where I fancy and where I hear the fish are biting."
"I assume then that you've fished on the Huyana River?" Booth prompted.
"Ah, yes. The river of falling rain," Wheeler answered. "I usually do well there, particularly just before a big storm. The fish sense it and come close to the surface."
The river of falling rain. Booth remembered Friday night when the rain was certainly falling in that river. He also knew that Wheeler was playing with them, like a magpie taunting a cat, letting the cat climb close to where it was sat before flying off to another branch at the other side of the tree. Wheeler knew that they suspected him; he also knew that they didn't have a thing on him. Wheeler was sitting there, as guilty as sin, knowing that they couldn't lay a finger on him.Yet. Booth wanted to have the deaths of his wife and son re-looked at. He wasn't convinced that they had even gotten on a plane to Arizona.
"You had a fishing club here at the school?" Brennan asked. Booth sat back a little and let her take over.
"Yes, and Patrick attended it when he was here. He was a good boy," Wheeler nodded, answering the next question before Booth could ask it.
"David and Thomas both attended your soccer club as well, didn't they, Mr Wheeler?" Booth said, not looking at the man, keeping his eyes out of the window.
"They did. David was especially good. He was very talented," Wheeler answered. "You have nothing on me, Agent Booth. Just because I like to fish and play soccer does not make me a killer." He stood up. Booth stood with him, towering over him slightly. He edged closer to the man, blocking his way to the door.
"I am sure we will be seeing you again soon," he said quietly into Wheeler's ear, feeling animosity build up inside of him. Wheeler smiled up at him.
"Don't count on it, Agent Booth," he grinned, showing perfectly straight, white teeth. He left the room slowly, dodging Booth,leaving the cards lying on the floor.
Bones stood beside him, looking at the door as it swung to and fro with the force of which Wheeler had opened it.
"He knows that you think it's him," she said. "There's so much circumstantial evidence that fits, but nothing exact that can implicate him without question."
"It is him, Bones. He's cold – he's done this before. Patrick wasn't the first and if we don't stop him now and get something on him, David Matthieson won't be the last," he said.
"What now?" Bones asked.
"I say we go and have a little chat with him at home," Booth answered. Bones nodded. He knew that they were both experiencing the same feeling; they were about to reach the summit of a mountain, with no idea of what they would find, or how they would get down.
Thank you for the reviews, they really do help! The next four chapters are a mixture of fluff and plot, with a very angry Booth.
Please review. Eldred has been a little too sick to dance due to all the chocolate. So instead he taps on his belly and sings old Nat King Cole songs.
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