Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! I hope you guys like this one as well. Sorry it took so long to update, I've been insanely busy for the past few days, but I'm going to try to post faster from now on. Anyway, here's chapter four for you guys, sorry for any and all typos...

Temperance leaned over the lit examination table as she studied the remains of the young woman who had been found in Harold Gibson's grave, searching for a cause of death. Her attention was primarily focused on the bones of neck, near the base of the skull, where there were a large number of nicks and markings. Though they varied in size, shape, and depth, Temperance was certain that whatever had caused them had also killed the young girl.

Temperance blew out a short sigh. Although she had been studying the bones for over three hours, she was no closer to finding a cause of death than she was when she had first started that morning. She gave her head a small shake, trying to clear her mind. Mentally whining over her failure would not make the answers come any faster, she told herself, and with a quick nod of affirmation to her own reasoning, she returned her eyes to the young victim.

She found her attention drifting to one groove in particular, just left of the middle of the skull and down about an inch. The canal that had been carved in the bone was stained a faint red brown, causing Temperance to believe that the blow that had caused this wound had been delivered when the girl was still alive. She lifted the bone and placed it under a microscope, adjusting the magnification to give herself the best view possible. The groove was deeper than many of the others, more well defined. Temperance upped the magnification, her gaze focused on the edges of the groove. The edges were steep; however they were also spaced widely, to wide to have been caused by an ordinary blade. She studied the bottom of the canal. The familiar etching that came with knives was not present. What was left in its stead was an uneven pattern of hills and valleys. The marking was somewhat circular in shape as well, a fact that troubled Temperance slightly. What would leave this kind of marking?

Just as Temperance was about to lift another bone to study, Angela strolled into the room. She held a computer printout in her right hand, which she lifted as she spoke. "I've got your face!"

"Great," Temperance said, her eyes still focused on the bones. "Just drop it anywhere."

Angela gave a slight nod and dropped the paper onto a nearby table. "Any progress?"

Temperance sighed again, looking up. "None." She pulled off her gloves and tossed them in the bio-waste bin before resting a hand on her hip. She chewed on her lower lip for a minute before speaking. "Could you do a 3-D reconstruction of the skull? Maybe if we can determine an angle we can figure out some of the patterns."

"Sure," Angela answered, walking the last few steps to stand beside Temperance, looking down at the bones. She shook her head sadly. "How old did you say she was?"

"Between 29 and 35."

Angela dropped her hands into her pockets, her eyes never leaving the macabre display on the table. "How could someone do something like this?"

Temperance shook her head. "Anyone could do this. That's why it happens so much; because we're all capable of it." Temperance turned and headed back to her office, pulling off her lab coat as Angela fell into step behind her. "We just don't want to acknowledge that about ourselves."

Angela had the image ready a short while later, and after Temperance had finished faxing the computer printout of the face that Angela had found to Booth's office and giving him a quick call, she walked to Angela's office to study the reconstructed picture. At Temperance's prompting, Angela adjusted the image to show different angles.

"Turn it so we are looking at her neck, left of the center of the skull."

Angela did so with a few quick clicks.

"Can you zoom in now?"

A series of taps from Angela's keypad made this happen as well.

"Whatever she was stabbed with would have had to be fairly long, or else the ridge in the bone would not have been that deep."

"How long?" Angela asked.

Temperance shrugged. "Five inches, at least. Probably more."

Angela just nodded in response.

"There are no indications that the wound was caused by a metal blade," Temperance said, more for her own benefit than for Angela's.

"But what else would be used to stab someone?"

Temperance bit her lower lip again, thinking. "I'm not sure, but unless the killer used multiple knives, this girl wasn't stabbed to death in a conventional way. And I have a hard time believing a killer came to a crime scene with a large knife kit."

"How do you know that multiple objects were used?"

"I don't. But if only one object was used, it was being broken as the girl was being killed. That's the only other explanation for the variations in pattern. The only problem is, if the knife was being broken as the girl was dying, there would be pieces of it left behind. No killer would be so thorough as to get rid of all of them. And we didn't find any stray pieces of metal."

After Temperance was done looking at the 3-D image with Angela, she retreated to her office to do some work on her book. Six hours working on one aspect on one set of remains was enough for one day, she decided. Maybe her intense focus on the bones of the young girl would lead to a new rush of inspiration for her writing.

It didn't. After staring at the blinking cursor on the computer screen for 37 minutes, Temperance had written exactly seven words, all of which had been deleted.

Temperance groaned slightly. This was ridiculous. She never had problems writing. Never. Even if what she wrote was complete crap, she was always able to write something. Why had it become such a problem lately? She sighed heavily. 'Just put something down,' she told herself. 'Just write something. Anything. Don't even worry if it isn't related to the plot. Just do something. Type.' She glanced down at her fingers, willing them to move. When she glanced back up at the screen, she noticed that the white screen had now been replaced with the screen saver that came on after the computer had been inactive for fifteen minutes.

With another frustrated sigh, Temperance glanced over at the clock that hung on her wall. It was 5:30. 'Okay,' she told herself. 'Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to surf the internet until 6 o'clock, get my head clear, and then I am going to write. And I'm not leaving until I have at least three or more pages written.' With a quick nod to her own thinking, she clicked to sign onto the internet.

She began absentmindedly searching almost immediately. Before long she found herself at a website that featured stories by amateur writers. The stories were based on television shows, movies, books, and other forms of popular entertainment. She glanced at the web address, 'Interesting,' she thought. She clicked around for a few minutes and soon found a story on her screen. She began to read. The story was well written and enjoyable, so much so that Temperance almost forgot that she had no idea who the characters were. She glanced at the category she was in. "Bones." She would have to try to catch the show sometime.

After clicking out of the fiction site, Temperance went to She looked up books that she had heard about from friends, books that she had already read, and books that she had seen on the shelves in stores. She even looked up the last book she had published, reading over the reviews that people had written for it.

Temperance glanced at the clock in the bottom right hand corner of her computer screen. It read 6:45 PM. 'Well,' Temperance thought, 'so much for only surfing the internet for a half hour.' She sighed. She knew she was supposed to get back to working on her book, but she still didn't feel inspired.

She sat, blankly staring at the screen for a few more moments. Slowly, she felt her mind being drawn back to the note Booth had received the day before. Since she was still on she quickly typed "Hamlet" into the search bar. The screen was soon filled with editions of the great work. She randomly clicked on one and watched as the brightly colored cover filled the screen.

She gazed at the picture before her for a few minutes before deleting "Hamlet' from the search bar and typing "Ophelia" in instead. She wasn't sure what she was planning to accomplish, but somehow the thought that she was doing something made her feel like her wasting of time was productive. She hit "enter", and a few moments later a list of books appeared on the screen. She began to scroll through them, only half paying attention to their titles. She was about to click to go to the next page when something caught her attention.

On the glowing screen, Temperance read the words "The Darkness Beneath, by Ophelia Stone."

Temperance sat for a moment, dumbfounded. Then, as if suddenly waking from a trance, Temperance clicked to view the item. 'It's a coincidence,' she told herself, but somehow she knew this wasn't true. Her mind returned to the note; because of The Stone…could it be?

The information on the book loaded onto the screen a few moments later. Temperance quickly scrolled down to read the book summary: "When the body of Lyle Johnson is exhumed, a startling discovery is made—he is not alone. With him in his final resting place is the body of a young girl. But how did she die? And how did she end up in someone else's grave? These are the questions that Paul Johnson, Lyle's only son, seeks to answer. When the girl is identified, Paul begins his search for answers, only to find that he is losing himself along the way as he is dragged to the darkness that lies within the human heart." After this summary there were some reviews of the book, all claiming that it was a taut thriller, excellently written, and an instant classic. The customer reviews were somewhat less upbeat; most claimed that the book was average, or slightly below average, having some problems along the way. While there were a handful of reviewers who raved over the book's brilliance, it seemed that the work had been generally forgotten, lost in the stacks.

Temperance stared at the words in disbelief. Was this possible? Was this book somehow linked at the murder she was currently working on? She quickly jotted down the name of the book and logged off, shoving the scrawled note into her pocket as she did so. She had to get the bookstore to find a copy of the work. As she rushed out the door, she practically ran over Booth, who was just about to walk in.

"Whoa, Bones, where's the fire?" he asked.

"C'mon, we're going to the bookstore," she said, pushing past him.

Confused, Booth stood still for a moment before following after her. "Uh…okay?"

Temperance explained what she had found to Booth in the car as they drove to the nearest bookstore. By the time they arrived, both were eager to find a copy of the long forgotten work that could perhaps serve as a vital clue in their investigation. After nearly assaulting the man at the register with their enthusiasm, they were directed to a small mystery section in the rear of the building. They hurried to find the shelf and soon found that Ophelia Stone had written more than one book. To be precise, there were four books on the shelf bearing the author's name "Ophelia Stone", and a quick glance inside the front cover of one of the books showed that she had published at least five more.

Temperance grabbed "The Darkness Beneath" off the shelf and hurried at the register as she talked to Booth.

"Do you think this could actually be connected?"

Booth shrugged. "Let's get out hopes up. It's the only real lead we've got."

And so, they paid for the book and headed across the street to a small coffeehouse, where they ordered drinks and sandwiches before diving into the book. The flipped through the pages, pausing now and then to read a passage or two before moving on, until their food arrived.

After the food came to their table, they set the book aside and ate in silence for a few minutes, both thinking. A short time later, Booth spoke.

"I think we have an ID on the girl from the face you sent me," he said, reaching for the file that he had been carrying with him since they had rushed out of Temperance's office. Temperance set her coffee down and reached for it, flipping it open and scanning its contents as Booth continued to speak. "Debra Grey. Went missing in July of last year. She was 32 years old." Booth took a sip of his coffee as Temperance continued to scan the file. "Height fits the range you gave me, and face was almost a perfect match."

Temperance nodded as she looked at the photo of the woman attached to the file. The image showed Donna Grey smiling, displaying two perfectly straight rows of white teeth. She had short blond hair, brown eyes, and a slight dimple on her right cheek. Temperance felt her heart sink slightly. She looked so happy in the picture, so carefree, so…alive. Temperance's thoughts drifted to the bones she had been studying that morning. She didn't look so vibrant anymore.

A few minutes later, Temperance closed the folder and pushed it aside. After a quick sip of coffee, she spoke. "So, what do you think we should do next?"

"Next, we find out if the book matches the crime we so far. If it doesn't, we forget about it for now and move on. If it does, I think we should pay a visit to Ms. Stone to find out what inspires her to write her books."

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