Author's Note: Thanks for all the review to the last chapter! You guys are great. Let me apologize again for typos, etc. I didn't have to work today, so I thought I'd go to the beach and then write you guys an update...and then I ended up surfing for six hours. It was an awesome day, but I'm pretty much dead, so I'm sorry if this doesn't make alot of sense. If you find it's too terrible let me know and I'll redo it or something. Oh, and by the way...the beach was AMAZING, and I didn't even get that much sunburn. I'm going to sleep now. Enjoy the chapter.
When Angela, Booth, Hodgins, and Temperance headed back to the NASA lab the following morning they did so under a sky that was as dark as the feathers on a seagull's back. The day was hot and oppressively humid to the point that just stepping outside instantly made you feel as though you were sweating. The air was thick and heavy. A storm was coming.
Although they had already managed to ID all of the remains that they had found, the group still decided to sort through the clues in their makeshift lab. In some way they almost felt as though being close to the victims would bring them equally close to the killer. And so, after the morning routine of showers, shaving, quick morning pleasantries with the coffeehouse employees, and the short drive to the lab, the four began steadily working, sifting through the missing persons files on their victims, rereading histories, studying copies of grainy photographs, and pouring over the bones they had already studied so many times. They worked steadily through the morning, but by lunchtime they hadn't made any real headway. This wasn't because they didn't have theories, but rather because each of them had a different theory, and they each viewed the pieces of evidence in ways that would be conducive to their own reasoning.
Angela was convinced that Kate and Charlie Ribald were responsible for the deaths of the six victims. Due in large part to the fact that they had lived in every location where a victim was found, Angela found the aloof and cold manner of the couple disturbing. She also noted that Charlie Ribald was about six feet tall—a height that was consistent with the likely size of whoever murdered Vince. Charlie and Kate had lived on the island for years, and Chincoteague was a small place. If the victims lived on the island, odds are they would have known the Ribalds. This would explain how the victims went missing in broad daylight. What Angela couldn't figure out was motive. Why would two people in their sixties conspire to and kill six kids? Other than off the wall and baseless theories, such as the possibility that the Ribalds envied the victims' youth, Angela had no ideas.
However, while Angela suspected the Ribalds, Booth was holding fast to his gut instinct that Brian was responsible. He did his best to think this idea through objectively, ignoring the fact that he simply disliked the man for getting in the way of him, Booth, and Bones. The truth was, however, that while he had suspected Brian for this reason alone in the beginning, he was slowly beginning to think that it wasn't such a crazy idea. Brian was known to have been in each of the places where the victims went missing, and he had a connection to Chincoteague. Booth also noted that his connection to Bones also came at an interesting time; although he had had a known crush on Temperance for years, he had never made a move. Never, that is, until right before the case began. Booth found this to be yet another of the many "strange coincidences" that were mounting in relation to Brian. Added to this was the fact that not much was known about Brian's history. The man had seemingly swept into the Jeffersonian out of nowhere. As far as the question of motive went, Booth believed Brian was a sexual predator. The largest problem Booth saw in relation to the Brian theory was the fact that the body in the coffeehouse had been found at a time when Brian was, supposedly, still in D.C. If it could be confirmed that Brian hadn't left the area around the time that the girl was murdered, Booth would be forced to come up with alternate idea.
Hodgins was of the opinion that Kate and Charlie Ribald and Brian were the killers. Though he didn't have a real explanation for whether or not the three were working together, he found it odd that so much evidence pointed to them. They all had connections to the victims, to the places they were taken from, and to the place they were taken to. The odds of three people having such a strong connection to a string of six victims who spanned at least four states seemed to Hodgins to be a piece of evidence that shouldn't be ignored.
Meanwhile, Temperance was convinced that, if in fact all six murders were committed by the same person or persons, it was most certainly the work of a serial killer who saw a common thread between all of them. Since the girls and one boy were from different places geographically and from different backgrounds, Tempe assumed that there had to be some other linking factor looming beneath the surface. She searched for this thread tirelessly, but her work yielded no results. Other than the fact that the victims were young and mostly female, Temperance was having a hard time connecting them. The main linking factor she saw was that all the victims had been good looking, attractive, just as Brian had said. While this could be the common thread if the killer was a sexual predator, it didn't seem strong enough to explain the case as a whole. The osteoporosis bones still also greatly disturbed Temperance; they were so out of place, so seemingly random in connection to the other victims. Why were the bones of a person, most likely female and in her 60's, found with the remains of kids? And why only two bones as opposed to the almost full skeletons of the other victims?
By the time evening came, the only thing that the four had managed to agree on was that they wanted dinner. And so, after a day of work that turned out to be mostly unproductive, the four gathered up their paperwork and left, still debating over potential suspects as they walked to the car.
"You have to at least admit that it's strange," Booth said, "that Brian just happened to be in the right place at the right time when all of these kids went missing. Considering the physical distance and the distance in time…"
"He wasn't in the 'right place at the right time' for all the victims," Temperance pointed out. "What about Tammy and Vince?"
"He didn't kill Tammy and Vince," Hodgins cut in. "The Ribalds did. And their bones were with the bones of the people Brian killed because the three of them are working together."
"Yeah, that's likely," Angela interjected, rolling her eyes. "We come to a tiny spit of an island to solve a case and just happen to befriend two of the killers while one of us dates the third killer. Sure, that happens all the time…"
The four climbed into the SUV, Temperance and Booth occupying their usual positions in the front as Angela and Hodgins climbed into the back, and as they pulled away they took a brief timeout from their discussion of the case to figure out where they wanted to eat. After a quick discussion, they decided to go to a small independently owned Vietnamese restaurant in town.
The restaurant was small and quaint. The owner was the chef while his wife doubled as hostess and waitress. There were only a few tables, however, so the service was quick. Hodgins, Booth, Angela, and Temperance had no trouble getting a table, and, after a brief read through of the menu, they ordered and talked as they waited for their food to arrive.
As they sat, waiting, the bell over the entrance jingled and two more patrons entered the restaurant. The four from D.C. glanced up when they heard the noise and were greeted by the forms of Kate and Charlie Ribald. They were seated a moment later at a table in the corner, though thanks to the size of the restaurant, this was not far from the table that Booth and the squints occupied.
The group exchanged greetings with the Ribalds, and when the hostess/waitress/co-owner saw the two groups talking, she offered to seat them all together. The Ribalds consented, and short time later the six sat together, talking as they awaited their dinner.
The food arrived quickly, and the six began to hungrily eat. The food was good and well prepared, and after everyone had had some time to make some progress on their food, the conversation that had lagged when the meals arrived picked up again.
They were halfway through when Charlie Ribald asked, "so, have the police told you anything about Abby?"
The four looked back at Charlie in confusion. "What about Abby?" Booth inquired.
Kate moved her hand, dismissively. "It's nothing, I'm sure," she said. "She went on her lunch break today and didn't come back afterwards."
Angela looked back at the old woman, stunned. "She's missing?"
Kate shook her head. "No, not missing, per se. She was upset this morning over a fight she had with Eric, her boyfriend. I'm sure when she went to lunch she spoke to him and for whatever reason didn't come back."
"Is Abby the type of girl who typically misses work for no reason?" Temperance asked.
Charlie shook his head. "No, but she's a kid. We called around when she didn't come back to see if anyone had seen her, but we're sure it's nothing."
"Did you call the police?" Hodgins asked.
"Of course, but they told us that since she just skipped out on an afternoon of work, there isn't much they can do." Charlie shrugged, dismissively. "I'm sure it's nothing, I was just wondering if they had told you anything."
The squints and Booth watched the Ribalds in interest and confusion. The whole conversation seemed strange; why did the Ribalds wait until halfway through the meal to bring up the fact that one of their employees was missing? And, after bringing it up, why were they trying to change the subject as if it were nothing? It seemed odd, considering they didn't seem to want to discuss the disappearance of Abby, that they had even brought it up in the first place.
The group finished their meals, said their goodbyes, and parted company. When they were back in the SUV, the four sat quietly for a moment, all thinking about the same thing.
"That was weird," Angela said, breaking the silence. The others nodded their agreement.
"It was almost as if they just wanted to know how much we knew," Temperance said as Booth pulled the car back onto the main drag.
There was a moment of silence before Booth spoke. "Where's Brian tonight?" When Temperance gave him a sideways glance, he put up his hand defensively. "Hey, I'm just asking. I mean, if we call him we can know instantly if he has something to do with this. It's just a suggestion."
Temperance sighed. "If I call him and he's home, will you admit that he might not be the person we're after?"
"Fine. I'll admit that, if he is in fact at home, there may be a possibility that he isn't responsible for this one."
"This one?" Temperance balked.
Booth shrugged. "It's the best I can do."
Temperance sighed and pulled out her cell phone, dialing Brian's number.
And then she hung up and dialed again.
And then she dialed again.
And again.
After five attempts, Temperance felt her heart rate increase and her nerves poise on edge. Brian hadn't answered.
The group worked on the case some more when they got back to the hotel, though their minds weren't really on the past victims. Although they did their best to dismiss it, they were all very worried about the young girl from the coffeehouse who had, only that morning, spoken to them and served them. No one pointed out that she fit in perfectly with the other victims—twenty years old, pretty, and working in a service related job. When they did mention her that evening, it was only to assure one another that she was fine, that she had just taken off for a while. They all did their best to ignore the knots that were growing in their stomachs.
By 10:30pm, the group finally admitted that they were no longer able to even pretend that they were making progress. It seemed that they had reached nothing but dead ends that day, and so they decided to call it a night. Angela and Temperance once again retreated to their room, while Booth and Hodgins changed and nestled into the room one floor below. With a sigh and a last wondering thought of where Abby could be, each of the four fell prey to the grips of the dream world.
Temperance woke up at 2:30am for what felt like the one hundredth time that night. She sighed. She had tossed and turned to the point that her sheets were a tangled mess, wrapped around her legs and spilling onto the floor. She laid silently in the darkness for a moment, hearing the rhythmic cycle of Angela's breathing in the next bed, and felt her thoughts being pulled back to Abby and the case. Although no one had admitted it, they all knew Abby was in danger. But what could they do? They had no idea who had Abby or where she might be, and it wasn't as if they could really search for her since she wasn't technically a missing person yet. Temperance tried to convince herself that everything was fine, that Abby was home by now, or maybe even with her boyfriend, but she found that she couldn't. All she could feel was a growing worry in the pit of her stomach. She remembered the condition the remains of the previous victims; if the killer had Abby now, she was about to endure Hell.
Temperance threw the covers back off her legs and swung her feet over the side noiselessly. Outside thunder rumbled, indicating that the storm that had been threatening all day was about to set in. Tempe crossed the room and slipped into a pair of jeans and a shirt. She then tip toed over to Angela's bag where she found Hodgins' keys and stuffed them, along with her cell phone, into her pocket. She crossed back to the table that sat on the far side of the room, and on the hotel stationary with a pen she scrawled a note for Angela before quietly turning and exiting the room. She doubted that she would actually find Abby, but she knew she would never be able to rest until she had at least tried to look.
Booth and Hodgins woke up at 3:30am to the sound of someone loudly banging on their door. Booth, whose bed was closest to the offending noise, shuffled over and pulled it open to Angela. He was about to snap at her for waking them in the middle of the night, but the white pallor of her face caused the words to die on his lips.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I don't know where Temperance is," she said. She sounded almost out of breath, and Booth felt his chest constrict.
"What do you mean you don't know where she is?" Booth asked, praying Angela had woken from a deep sleep and was confused.
Angela held out Temperance's note. It read:
Ange-
Couldn't sleep, went out to see if I could find Abby. I borrowed Hodgins' car. Back later.
T
Booth read the note, and as he finished, Angela spoke again. "I just looked outside. The car's still here."
Booth's head snapped up. "The car's here?"
Angela nodded, numbly. "Yeah. But she isn't. I called her phone, but it's either off or has no signal. It keeps going to her voicemail. I left her messages, but she isn't calling back."
'Oh my God, Bones, how could you be this stupid? Why did you do this?' Booth thought as he spun around to grab some clothes. Hodgins was already pulling on his jeans. 'You know there's a murderer running around on this little island, why would you leave in the middle of the night? Alone?' However, although these thoughts and more ran through Booth's head, the only verbal reply he could muster was, "shit."
And so, after getting dressed at a breakneck speed, Hodgins, Angela, and Booth stood in the parking lot.
Booth reached in the back of his SUV, pulling out the FBI standard backup gun he kept unassembled and hidden on the floor in the back. As he put it together, he spoke to Hodgins and Angela.
"Okay, here's what we'll do. I only have one extra gun, so I'll give that to the two of you." He pulled out the bulletproof vests. "Put these on. Now, technically, you aren't licensed to carry this weapon, therefore this is illegal. With that in mind, I recommend that you don't shoot unless you are absolutely sure it's necessary." Hodgins and Angela nodded, numbly. "You two head north and I'll go south." He glanced at his watch. "It's 3:45. We will meet back in this parking lot at 4:45. No excuses. If for some reason you can't be back here by then, call. I'll do the same. DO NOT GET SEPERATED. It's not going to make it easier to find Bones if we have to start looking for each other."
The two nodded again. "We'll find her," Hodgins said, his voice hard. Booth glanced at the man for a moment. He had never seen Hodgins look quite so determined. It sight gave him some comfort.
"Okay," Booth said. "One hour."
They then split up, jogging down the street in their respective directions.
At 4:15am, Booth began to pray. 'Let her be alright,' he mentally begged. 'Christ, where is she? Bones, where are you? Please, God, just let me find her. Let her be fine. Make this all a misunderstanding. I want her to yell at me for looking for her. I want this to not be happening. Where are you, Bones? How could you have been this stupid? God, just show me where she is. Lord, please don't let this be real. Make this a bad dream. Let me wake up now. Where the hell are you, Bones? Please, God, let me wake up now…'
Booth had been running since he split up with Hodgins and Angela, and the humidity in the air from the rain that had still not yet begun to fall caused him to sweat profusely. His shirt stuck to his chest and arms, and his jeans made him feel as though he were wearing ski pants on the beach in August. His muscles were taut with adrenaline as he searched, his ears perceiving every sound and every thought of a sound, as he moved.
He eventually found that he had run almost all the way to the Refuge. He glanced at his watch. 4:32am. There was no way he would make it back to the hotel in time. He mentally cursed himself, staring quickly about at the stand of trees that loomed nearby. He walked a few steps forward and saw the dim outline of the visitor's center in the distance. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in Angela's number.
"Find anything?" she said when she answered, not even bothering to say hello, worry lacing her voice.
"No. I'm not going to make it back in time. Meet at 5:15," he said.
"Okay," she answered, and then they clicked off the phone.
Booth walked forward a little farther. He felt his senses go into high alert, though he wasn't sure why. And then he heard it; an almost indiscernible noise, like the strangled cry of a young woman. 'BONES!' his brain screamed, but he didn't make a sound, freezing listening for the sound again, trying to discern its origin. He ran silently, trying to reach the visitor's center. Since it was the only building he could see, he felt certain that the sound was coming from there. He heard the cry again, and his steps quickened. Then he heard another sound, and he froze. It sounded like a footstep, someone moving nearby.
Booth tried to duck behind a tree. He tried to move into a concealed place, to get out of the line of sight, so he could listen for who was moving nearby. But he was too late. Before he had time to move, he heard the sickening thud of hard object connecting with the back of his head. He saw stars explode behind his eyes and felt his knees give out. He was unable to see the face of his attacker before he slipped into darkness.
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