(Season 11)
I don't own Bones.
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While he and his daughter helped Brennan plant new tomato plants in the garden, Booth's phone rang. Answering it, he was informed that a body had been found at 511 10th Street in the District. Glancing at Brennan he noticed that she was listening to someone on her phone as well and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, let me change my clothes and I'll be there in about a half hour or so."
Her call completed, Brennan stood up and placed her hand on Christine's shoulder. "Honey, your father and I have to go to work. I'm going to drop you and Hank off at Angela's house on the way to the crime scene. I'm sorry we didn't finish planting the tomato plants. We'll do it as soon as possible."
Resigned that the plants would have to wait, Christine stood up and ran over to where Hank was sleeping on a quilt under the oak tree. "Do you want me to wake him up?"
"God no." Booth strode over to where his baby son was lying and picked him up, trying not to jostle the boy. Speaking with a quieter voice, he smiled at his daughter. "Go wash your hands and change your pants. You know your Aunt Angela bought a white couch for her living room and well, we don't want to get it dirty."
Racing into the house, Christine ran down the hallway to her room while Booth and Brennan followed her into the house. Stopping in the living room, Brennan paused before calling Angela. "Cam says the body was found this morning by someone opening the theater."
"Theater? Aubrey didn't say it was a theater." Before moving down the hallway, he placed their sleeping son in the playpen in the living room. He needed to wash up and change clothes and he didn't want to wake up Hank. His son comfortable, Booth walked down the hallway and paused before entering their bedroom. "Wait . . . wait, 511 10th street . . . Ford's theater."
She had hoped he wouldn't realize where they were going until they got to the theater. "Yes." Not sure what else to say, she made the call to Angela to let her know what was happening and then followed Booth to their bedroom. "Is that a problem? It's just an old theater."
"Why would it be?" Since he didn't have control about where bodies were found, he knew he'd deal with what was happening as professionally as he did with all of his cases. After all, it was just an old theater, wasn't it?
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Not sure what to expect, Cam touched Hodgins' arm and spoke quietly so the rest of the techs in the hallway wouldn't overhear them. "Please don't make any references to Lincoln or John Wilkes Booth when Booth arrives. If you do, don't expect me to rescue you. You're on your own."
Puzzled, Hodgins stared at Cam for a moment then laughed. "Oh, come on. Booth isn't that sensitive. Is he? I mean, that was a long time ago and he doesn't have any control over who his ancestors are. It's history."
Shaking her head, Cam realized that Hodgins didn't understand just how much Booth hated his distant relative. "Booth considers John Wilkes Booth a mark of shame on his family. I've told you that before. For your own safety, just keep any remarks about the assassination and Lincoln to yourself."
"I hate having to walk on eggs around Booth. He's a grown man. He should know that history is history and it's impersonal. History doesn't care about his feelings or my feelings or your feelings." Moving closer to the body, Hodgins noticed what looked like numerous stab wounds on the chest, arms and hands. "Man, she put up a hell of a fight . . . Good for her, I hope she marked up her attacker to make it easier to catch him."
"Let's hope so." Cam knelt next to the body and began to study it while Hodgins moved around the body looking for particulates. "I hope we solve this case quickly. For her sake and for the rest of us."
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Booth had never been in Ford's Theater and he hoped this was the one and only visit he'd ever have to make. Standing near the body, Booth watched as his team studied the remains. Brennan was examining the hands of the victim while Cam was trying to determine when the victim had died.
"Any guesses when she died?" Booth glanced around the theater then back at the body.
"The manager was here late Saturday night as were the custodians." Cam removed her gloves and stood up. "She's in her office if you want to talk to her . . . I'll need to do the autopsy of course, but I feel it's safe to say our victim died sometime between midnight Saturday night and noon on Sunday."
After making some notes in his notebook, he looked at Hodgins. "Any ID on the body?"
"No, and I couldn't find a purse or bag." Hodgins made a circle around his head with his right index finger. "My crew has searched the building, so if she had any ID the killer took it with them."
"Alright." Placing the notebook in his jacket pocket, Booth watched as the techs prepared the body for transportation. "I'm going to go talk to the manager. Bones, maybe you can ride back with Cam and I'll meet you at the Lab this afternoon." Turning, he left leaving behind his team.
Once Booth was out of sight, Hodgins turned to gather his equipment and place it in his carryall. "You see, Cam. You thought he'd be upset and he isn't."
"You're wrong. He is upset." Brennan was removing her gloves. "His face is emotionless. You should know by now that means he's upset and he's hiding his feelings . . . He detests being here." She had difficulty reading emotions in most people but not her husband. Most of the time, he was an open book to her.
"Well, once we remove the body and he's interviewed the manager, he won't have to come back here . . . I hope." Cam sighed.
Her bag in her hand, Brennan moved down the aisle towards the entrance. "Booth will do his job. He will be uncomfortable, but it's just temporary and he knows it. He is a brilliant investigator and he will not fail."
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The murder had been solved fairly quickly. DNA had been found under Judy Bloom's fingernails and that DNA turned out to belong to her former boyfriend, Carl Greengrass.
Booth sat in the interview room and listened to Carl rant and curse his dead former girlfriend. The landscaper had been outraged that Judy had broken up with him just because he'd had a one-night stand with someone else. He'd lured Judy to the theater promising to return the watch she'd left at his apartment. He had chosen the theater because he worked part time as a security guard there and he had keys to all the doors. When she had shown up, he had confronted her about their relationship, hoping to make her take him back.
She had argued with him and pushed him away when he'd tried to force a kiss on her. Angry he had pulled a knife from a sheath on his belt and threatened to kill her unless she took him back. When she'd tried to flee the theater, he had raced after her, grabbed her and stabbed her multiple times. She had fought for her life and had scratched Carl's face and arms trying to fend off the knife. It was those scratches that had led them to her killer.
"She wasn't being fair. That hookup didn't even mean anything to me, but Judy wouldn't listen to me. I wanted her to take me back because I was the best thing that ever happened to her, and she threw our relationship away like it was trash . . . I was the best thing that ever happened to her. I gave her everything, but one little hookup and she wanted to throw what we had away . . . That bitch got what she deserved. She wanted me to hurt her. I told her to take me back and when I tried to kiss her, she hit me. No one hits me. All she had to do was take me back. This is all her fault. What I did was self-defense. Yeah . . . She hit me and I protected myself. Yeah, that's what happened."
Booth stared at Carl for a moment and finally closed the folder on the table in front of him. "Self-defense? She pushed you away and you stabbed her seven times . . . you left her body for someone else to find. Her fault? . . . You think you were the best thing that ever happened to her?" Standing, Booth leaned on the table and spoke in a menacing voice. "That young lady deserved to live. That's what she wanted. She wanted you to leave her alone and she wanted to live." Moving over to the doorway, he nodded his head at Agent Aubrey. "Take him down to holding. Book him for murder in the first degree."
"Yeah, it's the least we can do for Judy." Aubrey grabbed Carl's arms and cuffed his hands behind his back. "Come on, maybe you'll find someone that will be the best thing that ever happened to you in prison."
Once he was out of the room, Booth sat down on the bench outside the interview room and watched as Aubrey hustled Carl out of the room and down the hallway. Carl was loudly protesting that he'd defended himself from a crazy bitch and there was no way he deserved what was happening to him. His curses and violent threats could be heard by everyone on the floor until Carl was shoved into the elevator and the doors closed.
Leaving the observation room, Caroline walked over to the bench and sat down next to her favorite Agent. "Self-defense? I hope he and his lawyer try that. I really hope he does. I'll make that man wish he'd never been born . . . well, I'm actually going to do that anyway, but that's beside the point."
Disgusted with the situation, Booth turned to face his friend. "Judy was nineteen years old. She was just beginning to live and that . . . that boyfriend of hers killed her because he couldn't be faithful. She just wanted honesty and faithfulness and all she got was lies and pain."
"Yeah . . . we're going to get her justice, but I'd rather she was alive and living the life she was supposed to." Caroline sighed. "Cher', I know you've been upset ever since we found Judy's body at Ford's Theater . . . You need to let go of the past. Especially a past that happened 153 years ago. We can't help who we're related to. God knows I'd lop off some branches on my family tree if I could, but I can't and neither can you. It doesn't work that way."
He knew she was right, but he still felt the shame of having someone like John Wilkes Booth in his family tree. "Most of the time I don't even think about it, but once in a while something happens to remind me that the blood of an traitor is in my blood . . . I love my country. I love my part in how this country works. I have a cool job. I catch bad guys and I help make them pay for what they've done. They always think they're going to get away with their crime, that they've committed the perfect murder, but I make sure they don't get away with anything. Not if I can help it . . . not if I can help it." He didn't say anything else. What else was there to say?
Patting his knee, Caroline gave the agent a sad smile. "You're a good man, Booth. Sometimes, I don't think you see that in yourself, but you should. You've helped me stop evil from spreading out and taking over." She knew that sounded melodramatic, but it was how she felt. "We've found justice for the victims of evil and that is a great thing . . . what one of your distant relatives did in the past has nothing to do with you. You don't owe the world anything for what your relative did. You just live your life and that's all anyone should ask of you."
Her words were comforting and Booth appreciated Caroline's friendship. It was something he'd counted on for many years." Thanks . . . Hey, I'm meeting Bones at the diner. Want to join us?"
Glancing at her watch, the prosecutor shook her head and stood up. "Sorry Cher'. I've got a date. You go have a nice dinner with that partner of yours. You deserve it."
Once she was gone, Booth stood up and called his wife. "Hey, Bones. I'm on the way to the diner . . . you have the kids with you? Great. That's the best way to end this day. I'll see you in a few."
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