Title: Deja Vu
Disclaimer: Language, violence
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Chapter Twenty-one: Going Down in Flames
The drive to the crime scene took them to a cemetery in a suburban neighborhood. They didn't talk much on the drive over, both lost in their own thoughts. Last time Brennan had gone along with Booth on case, things hadn't turned out too well. If she looked at the bigger picture, it rarely turned out okay. Maybe Agent Stone was right in telling Booth to leave her at the lab. On the way out she had warned the others that she might need their help and to be waiting for her call. Now she found herself wondering if it would do any good to get them mixed up in the problems that followed her around.
Two cop cars sat outside the cemetery. Only one cop was actually in view. He waved at them, a grim look on his face, as the pulled up beside his car. They were joined by a black coroner's van in the time it took Booth to shut off the engine and both of them climbed out. The cop pointed toward the hill, directing them up there. He didn't say much and Brennan could tell that the sight had been too much for him. He looked young, probably a rookie.
She and Booth walked side-by-side, step for step. "Why is this a Federal case?"
He gave her a look that said she should have known already. "Bones, there is a burnt body in the middle of a cemetery. The better question would have been, what isn't this a Federal case."
"Why would I ask that? It would illogical. Clearly this is already a Federal case, or you wouldn't be here," she told him.
He smiled. "Bones, how I missed you over the last week."
They crested the hill and found themselves right smack in the middle of the crime scene. The officer standing guard over the body looked green and Booth quickly ushered him away before he spoiled any evidence. The man looked relieved that he could leave the black mass behind. Brennan immediately went to work, crouching down over the black, charred bones. Taking a small flashlight from her pocket she let the light give her a closer look, letting her inspect what was left of the body better.
"Caucasian male, maybe late forties, early fifties," she told Booth, who wrote the information down. "The body was burned but not to the point that identifying it should be hard. There's still some flesh and tissue on his lower half. Looks to me like the upper part of the body was the target. The killer probably didn't care how badly the body burned, as long as it was hard to make an ID."
"Poor bastard really pissed someone off to get treated this way, if you ask me," Booth said, giving the burned corpse a disgusted look.
"Don't jump to conclusions, Booth. Maybe this was an accident. Aside from the burning I can't find any other reasons for death. I'll know more when I get it back to the lab and do some tests," she confirmed.
The sick-looking officer that Booth had sent away found his back to them, during her explanation he had stood on the sidelines, quietly watching her touch the body with gloved hands. If he had been feeling better the affect was quickly beginning to ware off. Booth considered him, turning to the guy with his eyebrows raised. Brennan could see that he was annoyed that the officer had returned without the coroner.
"What do you want, officer?" he asked, making sure to keep his voice even.
"I noticed something out of the corner of my eye as I was walking down the hill and I went to see what it was," the guy replied, his voice a bit wobbly. "I think you might want to see it for yourself, sir."
Brennan held back her laugh. She knew that Booth wasn't that big a fan of being called 'sir'. He said it made him feel old. She had tried to explain to him that it was a sign of respect but he would have none of it. Now, turning to her for an answer, she shrugged. What could it bother? Maybe there was something to what the officer had seen, maybe something connected to the body. She followed Booth, who followed after the officer. They descended the hill and took a left at the bottom, traveling further into the cemetery. In one minute they went from being able to see and hear civilization to being in their own isolated world. It gave Brennan the creeps and she found herself walking beside Booth, not behind him. In this part of the cemetery there was no call of wild birds, no squirrels running around, and no bunnies making hast to vanish. It truly was a dead place. The officer stopped, pointing toward a tombstone.
Booth turned to Brennan. "Stay," he said, like she was some sort of dog. He didn't wait around to hear her response.
He walked over to the tombstone. From where she stood she couldn't see what had called to the officer. Mainly because Booth was blocking her view. Turning back to look toward the hill she realized that this small patch of the cemetery was indeed viewable from up there; where the coroner was currently taking care of the remains. Her attention returned to Booth. For a long time he just seemed to stand there, studying whatever it was that had brought them there. A cloud passed over the sun, causing Brennan to shiver as it darkened the cemetery. Looking up she saw that the blue sky had turned an ugly shade of gray. It was going to pour any minute now.
"Booth," she called. "Hurry up, it's going to rain."
Her voice broke through whatever fog had settled over him. He turned his gaze to the sky; the clouds had grown darker, almost black. He grabbed for something on the tombstone, it fell into the grass. Brennan only got a flash of black before the grass hid it from view. Booth bent down to pick up, and finally headed back in her direction. When she looked around she realized that the officer who had shown them the scene had disappeared. Where had he gone? And when had he left?
"Did you see where that officer went?" she asked Booth when he was within hearing distance. The wind began to pick up, going from a nice breeze to a gust.
"No," he shook his head in response. "I had my back turned."
A loud clap of thunder made them both jump. Without saying anything they settled on a mutual agreement to head back to the car. When the got to the cemetery entrance they found that they were the last ones there. The coroner had taken the body to the lab and the cops had gone on about their business. Booth and Brennan barely had time to get in the car before it began to pour. Inside the safety of the car she turned to him.
"What did you find?" she asked.
He gave her a grim look. For the first time she noticed a cloud hanging around him, a storm of anger, confusion, and despair was brewing. He handed her the object he had picked up. Looking at it she finally understood the mood that hovered around him. In her hands she held a small black wallet-like case, flipping it open she wasn't surprised by the flash of a badge. What caught her attention, and held it, was the name and the photo on the ID. It belonged to Agent Stone.