Bed of Fire
Chapter 2
The man smiled at how he imagined Agent Booth would react to that first photograph. He must have been shocked, yes. His only wish was that he could have been there to see the look on his face, but that simply wasn't a possibility. He'd see him soon enough.
Agent Booth also must have also been confused, since the previous photograph sender was no longer of this world. The man paused a moment reflecting on that fact. Leaning back in his home office chair, he templed his fingers beneath his chin, contemplating. His gaze falling on the array of photographs and degrees adorned on his wall. One photo stood out. Capturing the true Jenny. Her eyes alight with life, her blonde hair cascading around her shoulders. This was how she should be remembered. Not some crazy, depressed woman who commits suicide in a federal agents master bedroom, after attempted murder.
The man sighed.
She had felt so alone, so devastated, she was pushed to take her own life. He shook his head sadly. A lone tear tracked its way down his cleanly shaven cheek. Impatiently, he wiped it away. This was why he was doing this, he reminded himself sternly. He was doing this for Jenny. Although her motives were not the purest, she too was a human being, who felt love, and the desire to be loved. She too deserved retribution. She would have that retribution. He wanted Agent Booth to feel that same kind of pain that he did, upon finding Temperance Brennan dead by her own hand. The man smiled. He would be the man to make that happen.
Then, and only then, could he feel Jenny could truly rest in peace. The first step was in place.