Disclaimer: still not mine!

--Two weeks earlier—

"Bones, pack your bags! We're going to Arizona."

She rolled her eyes as she signed the last page of her paperwork. "Can't they send the body here?"

Booth grimaced, "It's not one body. Three separate areas, 69 bodies total. Forensics believe we might have multiple serial killers. A total of 91 people have been missing, some of them going back thirty years, and they're hoping we can identify the bodies and help catch these killers."

Brennan sighed and got up, "When is our flight?"

"It takes off at 8:15 tonight."

"I would have liked more time to prepare, but I'll deal with it."

"That's my girl," Booth smiled.

"I'm not your girl, Booth." She sauntered past him to her office door, "I'll see you tonight then."

He snapped his finger and pointed it at her, "Yeah, tonight." He sighed as she left. It was time for him to find that flashy tie of his.


That evening, Booth and Brennan had managed to make it to the airport in one piece, after managing to avoid several car wrecks. The day was filled with disasters. Car wrecks lined the streets and all across the radios and news reports were news of 23 plane crashes on that day. Nobody had a clue as to what was causing all of these wrecks. This wasn't just in D.C. either. It was nationwide, but it wasn't terrorist attack like many people had feared. It appeared to be just accidents. Now, Booth and Brennan were stranded at the airport until the roads opened up once again.

They were there for an entire week. After a few days after that disastrous day, the roads had been only opened for cleanup crew, and now, thankfully, it was mostly cleared and safe to drive through. As they drove through the multiple states, they had mostly stayed quiet, immersed in their own thoughts of what had happened the previous week. It was morning on June 4th when they finally arrived in the small southern town of Arizona.

Of course, Brennan had insisted on going to look at the bodies as soon as their belongings were in their hotel room and they had taken much needed showers. Within thirty minutes they had found the police station and made their way to the site. There were graves covering much of the ground and then heavily decomposed bodies hanging from the branches of the free trees that were in the area. Brennan decided to start with the bodies hanging from the trees.

"Female, Caucasian, adolescent, 13-16 years old. She most likely died due to strangulation."

"You mean she was hanged before she was dead?"

Brennan nodded and moved throughout the other bodies, "Many of them appear to be adolescents, both male and female, and a few of these people look like they were in their twenties. All of them appear to have died by strangulation."

"Wow, this guy was crazy. Wonder with he did with his buried victims."

"Well we'll just have to dig them up."

One of the officers interrupted them, "I'd strongly advice against it at this time of day."

Booth's brows furrowed in confusion, "What do you mean?"

The officer rolled his eyes, "In case you haven't noticed, it's over 100 degrees out here now. I'd recommend you come back after five this evening when it starts to cool off, and if you want to work here in the morning, you'd better get up early. It gets hot fast out here in the desert."

Brennan sighed in defeat. She almost did laugh, though, when she noticed Booth had taken off his suit jacket and unbuttoned many of the buttons on his shirt. However, she could feel her sweat already starting to make her clothes stick to her body so they left as soon as they could to go back to the hotel room and shower once again.


A few hours later, Booth found himself at the one church the town had. With all the craziness of the past two weeks, he had forgotten that it was Sunday. He sat in one of the pews and prayed for his usual, and this time, included a prayer that all of the families and friends of the victims of both the murders and the accidents found the closure they needed.

A sudden voice startled him out of his praying, "Hey, you're one of those guys from the FBI that's solving the case of those dead people , right?"

Booth looked up and saw a young boy, nearing his teenage years. He noticed the vestments the boy wore and realized immediately that he was an altar boy. "How did you know that?"

"It's a small town; everybody knows everything whether it is meant to be a secret or not."

"Okay, so what do you want?"

"To give you some information." The boy sighed, "Father Wormwood. Five years ago, I was out in the desert playing with some of my friends when I noticed him picking up a stranded young woman off the side of the road. A few hours later, I saw him pass by the same spot with that woman, but she seemed to be asleep. I never saw that woman again. Exactly a year later, I see him pick up another woman and I decide to follow him. He goes back to his house with her, and when he comes back out, he's carrying her back to his car as she too is asleep. I lost him on his way to where ever he was going but she too I never saw that woman ever again. It's been the exact same, every June 6th. A stranded woman on the road, he picks her up, takes her somewhere and is never seen again."

"Wait a minute," Booth stopped him. "Do you believe he is kidnapping them?"

The boy nodded, "If he's continuing what he's been doing these past few years, it'll happen again in two days. He's pretty secretive and you only see him during Mass, and after that he seems to disappear until next Sunday."

"Where does he pick these women up?" Booth asked, completely alert. If he could get rid of a serial killer almost immediately after arriving he'd be happier.

"Mostly either on Indian Route 32 or Indian Route 232. It's around the Tucson-Ajo Highway."

Booth rose from his seat immediately and ran towards the door yelling, "Thanks!"

A second later the boy was left alone in shock. He replied, "You're welcome," to no one in particular.