Chapter 6
"There." Booth pointed at the skeleton at the base of the tree. "Go do your thing."
"Context?" I had already snapped on my gloves. The bent blades of grass told me the area had been trampled and the crime scene compromised.
"Kids riding technical through found the remains." He nodded towards the group of teenagers gawking over the yellow tape. "This is federal land."
"They shouldn't be here at all."
He shrugged. "They're teenagers. It's not like this is a munitions testing ground."
"They've ruined my crime scene," I said.
"Well, I'm not going to shoot them for that."
I started to take photos. "Did they move anything?"
"They say they didn't," he replied. "But you know, teenagers. If you don't need me for anything..."
"I don't."
"Where's Zach?"
"Editing a paper," I said. I studied the pelvic bone. "His first."
"First?"
I gently brushed the organic detritus out of the way. Loose and recent. I frowned. "The first time his name will lead on a publication."
"I'm guessing that's a big deal." He crouched down beside me. "What's wrong?"
"This can't be the original site. Soil color's wrong, for one thing." I pursed my lips in thought.
"Bones?"
"Shouldn't you go do your thing?" I needed some time to think.
He glanced at the waiting teens. "Right." I heard him get to his feet and ward off the local officer. "Don't bother her. She's doing her thing."
"She any good?" The officer sounded dubious. Women in my line of work were still a rarity.
"Oh, yeah," said Booth. "Bones?"
I never understood his need to show off my expertise. "Adult male," I said, humoring him. "Mid-thirties. He broke his right leg as a child and his left arm as an adult, probably in his twenties. "
"But she hasn't even touched anything yet." The officer's disbelief was unmistakable.
"I know," said Booth. "Why do you think I work with her?" I saw the boys nudge one another as he made his way over to them. The steady rise and fall of their voices soothed me as I catalogued the state of the remains.
"She's really pretty," I heard one boy say. "Is she your girlfriend?" His voice squawked mid-question.
"She's my partner," replied Booth. "Any of you have a girlfriend?"
Nervous laughter. "Yeah," said the same boy. "She doesn't bike though. Not on mud anyway."
"But you guys come out here regularly, right?"
"Yeah. Everyday after school practically."
"Must know this place like the back of your hand."
"Yeah."
"Better than playing videos inside," said Booth.
More laughter. This time incredulous. "You kidding? Online, I'm master," said the boy. "I always get all the weapons."
Booth shook his head. "I can never make it past the first couple of levels."
The boy leaned over the handles of his bike. "Man, you need to explore them all first. You gotta know the terrain like a pro before you can ascend to the next stage."
"Like riding the trails. This your favorite spot?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"You ever see anything down this way before?"
"Not yesterday. Right, guys?" I heard a succession of murmured agreement.
"First time you saw the skeleton..."
"Almost did a header over my handlebars."
"You got off your bikes and checked it out." Booth seemed unconcerned.
"Yeah." A sheepish tone. "Sorry about that. Wow, this is just like CSI. They hate it when people mess up the crime scene. Love that show. Do you think we'll be interviewed?"
"Interviewed?"
"By reporters."
"See any around?"
"No," said the boy.
"Then I guess no interview." Silence. "Sorry," said Booth.
"Yeah. It would've been fun. I thought for sure there'd be tons around. It's a body, man. And we found it! Doesn't that make us heros or something?"
"What makes you think it's a crime scene?"
"What?" The boy's voice cracked again.
"Wait here," said Booth. His footsteps warned me of his approach. "Bones, about those remains..."
"It's not," I said.
"Not a victim?" He didn't sound surprised.
I pulled my gloves off as I stood. "More like a volunteer. This is a medical model, probably someone who donated his body to research. Bones have been stripped and cleaned properly, complete with holes for assembly."
"Go figure." He glanced back at the boys.
"You think they had something to do with it? A prank of some kind?"
"Why were they here in the first place?" He scanned the terrain. "Not steep enough, not challenging enough. They know the area. No reason to waste time here."
"How do you know?"
"Their bikes. With those forks and those seats? No way they'd be wasting time here. And we shouldn't be either."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'll take care of it, Bones. Meet you back at the car."
"Booth, what are you going to do?"
"Something appropriate." A sideways glance. "Don't worry, Bones. A little scare won't hurt them."
"You do remember we have a plane to catch."
"McLean, LA, beach," he recited as he headed back towards the boys.
"I told you I hate the beach," I murmured.
"Hey, Bones." He paused midway. "Catch." My hand stung as I caught his keys.
I stared at them with some degree of puzzlement.
"Your turn to drive," he said.
"We have turns?"
"We do now."