Disclaimer: In addition to all of the things that are normally not mine, Andale is also a real place. Seeing as I could barely afford to eat there, I don't own it, either.
Notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And, just so all of you who made threats to ransom my goldfish, I suppose I should have mentioned that he's in the same state as my social life. Died years ago. Ah well. Anyways, reviewers are loved!

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They would not make it to Tara Edison's house alive.

That is what Brennan told herself the third time Booth jammed down the brake to avoid being hit by some maniac tourist, or perhaps, as Hodgins would theorize, a drunken senator, as the black SUV snaked its way through the hell of DC traffic. The problem mostly arose from the fact that half of the people on the road had no clue where they were going, and the other half were usually running late.

After the two calmed their heart rates down, Booth continued to fill Brennan in on the details of what they were looking to find out from Edison.

"We need to find out if there's anyone who had a grudge against him, or any big news he discovered that someone would kill to cover up. We don't need to waste much time asking her the basics, she already went through basic questioning this morning."

Brennan turned the air conditioning down a few degrees. "But shouldn't we talk to the paper he worked for if we want to know what he was working on?"

Booth flicked the air back up a degree or two. Compromise. "He was a freelance journalist- all of his stories were pitched to the paper on an individual basis, or in groups of two or threes. Usually, the guy would have sold the piece to them before he wrote it, but if he found something big, he would have written it first to keep others from stealing his find."

"What if the reason he was killed didn't have anything to do with his profession, though?" Brennan argued.

"That, Bones, is what we are here to find out." Booth killed the ignition in the driveway of a small, one-story, white clapboard house. It seemed oddly out-of-place with the historic brick buildings around it.

The doorbell had barely finished ringing when the door opened. A woman in her early thirties, with thick and frizzy blonde hair, stood in front of them in jeans and a rumpled tee-shirt. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she'd been crying- which she probably had, Brennan reminded herself.

"Hello, I'm Agent Seeley Booth, and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan… are you Tara Edison?" Booth flashed his badge as he introduced them.

"Yes, come on in." Her voice was hoarse, as if the bitter truth she'd been forced to swallow had blistered her throat. She led them in to a small kitchen, with a depressing table and tired-looking chairs. "Would you like some coffee, or tea?" She looked as if she felt out of place in the kitchen, like her grief had somehow made the world foreign to her.

Brennan's heart went out to her. She couldn't help it. Quelling her emotions was one thing when she was looking at a body. Bodies were just shells. The people who had filled them were gone, but the ones who had loved them weren't. She swallowed, and let Booth answer for them.

"No thank you, Miss Edison. We'd just like to ask a few questions, and then we'll be on our way," Booth told her softly, and she sat down. "Is there anyone you can think of that held a grudge against Patrick?"

Tara swallowed, and considered the question for a minute. "He was a friendly man, no one that knew him could dislike him. But he's a…" she paused, and then continued, visibly flustered, "…was a journalist, and he could be pretty ruthless when he found dirt on someone. It was his job to be."

"Can you think of anyone that he may have upset in his work?" Booth encouraged.

"Lots of people, most likely, but usually that was just little things. The only person I can think of that he really… messed things up for was a man running for governor. Rien Diamond."

Brennan remembered that one. Two weeks before the elections, it had been discovered that Diamond was involved in a drug ring. He had pulled out, and Hodgins hadn't been able to shut up about it for a week. Patrick Debrue was the one who had brought that secret to light?

Apparently Booth thought this was a good lead to follow up on. "To your knowledge, did Mr. Diamond ever contact Patrick, or threaten him?"

She shook her head, wide-eyed. "Do you think it was him?" she asked nervously.

"We don't have any evidence to support that, we're just trying to figure out who might have had a motive," Brennan explained, in what she hoped was a soothing voice.

Booth nodded. "Do you know what Patrick was working on before he disappeared?"

"No, Patrick didn't talk about his stories until after they were published." She laughed ruefully. "I used to get mad at him, for not trusting me to keep his secret." Pause. "But… he did take me out to dinner last weekend, to a nice place, and said something about not worrying about the cost, that he was going to sell a good story soon. He seemed pretty happy about it."

"Do you know why he would have been at Great Falls National Park?"

"He loved rock climbing, and that was one of his favorite places. Usually he takes me along, though, and he didn't mention that he wanted to go. But he also went there a lot just to walk around, and to watch the sunset. It was one of his favorite places."

"Is there anything else you can think of that would be helpful to our investigation?"

She stood up and opened a drawer, then handed something to Booth. "This is the key to his apartment. I'm sure you can get in anyways, but it might make things easier."

"Thank you, Miss Edison. Please don't hesitate to call us if you think of anything else."

Tara nodded in response, lost in her own thoughts and private emotions. Her guests let themselves out.

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Ten minutes later, the two were back in the car and in the thick of rush-hour traffic. Booth had called the Bureau to request information on Rien Diamond.

"Do you think it was Diamond?" Brennan asked. She felt drained from the interview, and hoped talking would help clear her head- anything Booth had to say would be pure speculation, which usually irked her, along with a lot of other things that he did. She couldn't have cared less at that moment, though. Talking was better than just sitting there.

Booth thought for a moment. "I don't know. It's a bit of a stretch… the election was a while ago. But Debrue effectively ended Diamond's career, and pretty much massacred his reputation. Besides, anyone who imports illegal drugs while running for office has to be a little-" he clicked his tongue twice "-messed up."

"Are we going to go speak with him, then?" she asked.

He shot her a strange look. "No, Bones. We're going to ignore the crazy guy with a criminal record and a grudge against the victim," he replied sarcastically. "We're going over there first tomorrow morning, and then we'll check out Debrue's apartment. But right now, we're getting some dinner. It's pointless to try to get anywhere in this," he gestured vaguely at the traffic.

"That sounds good," she agreed. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. "How about Andale? It's close enough to walk to from here. It's a bit expensive, but we could split something."

Booth snorted as he looked for a good place to pull over. "I don't care how much it costs, as long as we can get out of this mess."

"Good, then you can pay." Brennan grinned as the car coasted over into an empty parking lot.

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AN: Hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter- let me know what you thought, please, whether you loved it, hated it, or anywhere in between! Suggestions, criticisms, comments, and all manner of reviews are loved.

Maybe I should give you all a little teaser about the NEXT chapter- which, aside from being longer, involves a spicy Mexican restaurant, the reason for Brennan's writer's block, and some extremely obvious flirting. Feeling teased?