Thank you again for your patience. There is a bit of new stuff in this chapter...
The next morning found Brennan standing beside a large group of reporters at a news conference held by Cullen to discuss the previous evening's findings. The room overflowed with eager Pulitzer wannabes, but became whisper quiet the moment Cullen approached the podium. Adjusting the microphone, he addressed the group in a smooth, controlled voice, expressing his condolences to the family of the victim who had been identified by Brennan as Carly Winters. He continued with a brief explanation of the murder stating the Carly had been a waitress at Nolita's on K Street and was last seen alive around 8:30pm when she'd left work alone. Her car was found in the parking lot of her apartment building about two blocks away from the restaurant with her purse in the passenger seat, apparently untouched. There was no sign of a struggle. Once he'd concluded, hands shot up into the air causing Cullen to chuckle, then explain he was not answering any questions, he'd leave that to Special Agent Seeley Booth.
"Which means we'll learn absolutely nothing," a reporter close to Brennan groused. "Booth considers reporters disgusting parasites that exist merely to plague him." Unable to help herself, she found that she was leaning toward the man, "Perhaps he has a reason for that opinion."
Despite his embarrassment, the reporter's hand still shot up into the air as Booth opened the floor to questions regarding the investigation. Dressed in his trademark black Armani suit, light blue shirt and black tie Brennan couldn't help but suppress a grin at the thought of him wanting to be with her and only her.
Booth looked over the crowd and felt and annoying dryness at the back of his throat and a tightening in his muscles. As far as he was concerned, news conferences were a waste of time and a damn nuisance. He should be out in the field tracking down the murderer, not standing here trying to appease some clueless reporters.
"Do you think this was a crime of passion?" shouted a voice from the group.
"I don't stick labels on murders. I leave that to you guys." he replied, then nodded at another reporter.
"Do you think the killer knew the victim?"
"It's possible."
"Do you think this is connected to any kind of cult or devil worship?"
"We don't have any information to indicate that." Booth pointed to a skinny guy at the back of the room.
"If it's not some kind of cult murder then how do you account for the marking on the victim's chest?"
"I'm not jumping to conclusions but I'm not ruling anything out at this point either."
"But do you think it could be some kind of ritualistic killing?"
"Anything's possible." How many damned times was he going to have to answer the same question? Tamping down a wave of anger, he glared at the waving hands and caught Brennan's gaze. He calmed instantly when she gave him a quiet smile. Taking a renewed breath, he pointed to the reporter beside her.
"Do you think the killer will kill again?"
Not the question he wanted. Looking back to Brennan, he noticed that she'd paled slightly and looked up at him. Both knew the answer. The murderer was a walking time bomb with a military issued K-Bar knife. If Booth said that aloud however, he'd have an entire city in panic mode.
"I think people should stay alert until this man is behind bars."
All the hands were flying now. Glancing at his watch he noted that'd he'd been answering question for the allotted time. Another fifteen minutes that the killer had been able to walk free.
"This will be the last question." he instructed as he pointed to a young woman in the middle of the room.
One more question, then he and Brennan could cut and run.
After all of the last question had been answered, Brennan noticed that Booth had been the first one out of the room. She knew how much it bothered him to hold these conferences. Having nowhere else to be since they were heading out into the field, Brennan stuck around waiting for him to return. Walking slowly around the room and reviewing the case at hand, her thoughts immediately flew to the sight she was met with the night before. Such a young woman, with her neck slashed and blood smeared across her chest. What would cause someone to do such a thing? Anger? Passion? Or had something in the killer's mind slipped off center? When would he strike again?
Brennan's phone rang startling her enough to jump and bump into the podium she'd come to a stop beside. Checking the number, she noticed it was Angela. She took a deep breath trying to rid her voice of the dark mood she'd slipped into.
"Okay. I owe you.", Brennan started. "I should have come and found you to explain why I was leaving."
"No problem Sweetie. We figured you'd rushed off with Booth. Was it the woman's body that was found in Franklin Park?"
"Yeah."
"I was afraid of that. From what I heard it was pretty gruesome."
"Pretty bad."
"Well, we'll have a drink later and you can tell me all about it."
"You'll need more than one drink if I do that Ang."
"You sound upset."
"No, I'm fine. How'd the rest of the benefit go?"
"Not a lot happened after you left. We danced awhile but the party started to break up about midnight."
Suddenly, Brennan was seeing a very ashen looking, pissed-off Booth re-enter the conference room.
"Listen Ang, I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Sure Sweetie."
Putting her phone in her pocket with one hand, she laid the other on Booth's arm as he reached her. "Was there another murder?"
Shaking his head he held an evidence bag out to her. As she took it, her blood ran cold. On a small piece of purple paper, there was some very neat handwriting.
I saw your pretty Dr. Brennan last night in the park. She looks beautiful in red.
Please tell her I'd like her to come to my next party, I'll be looking for her.
Surely this couldn't be from the bastard that had killed and cut up the woman in the park. Tearing her eyes from the filth in her hands to look at Booth, the dark look on his face told her otherwise.
"You think this is from the man who killed Carly Winters." she stated softly.
"Cullen says it's hard to say but that's obviously what someone wants us to think."
"Who else would write something like this Booth?"
Letting out a frustrated breath, he pulled Brennan into his arms holding her as if he never wanted to let go. As fabulous as a hug from Seeley Booth was, it made Brennan scared. She only got scared when he got scared.