{Alright guys, sorry for the time lapse in getting this one up. Thanks so much for all your kind words about the last chapter! I loved writing it and you guys make it all worth it. :D Now have faith and keep with me through this next chapter. Setting up the case, so things might get a little more technical and a little less personal. But don't worry! It will all be worth it. Also... slight disclaimer... I am not in any way qualified to write about forensics, so don't stab me if the science is inaccurate. xD}
The call came through in the early morning.
Booth lay there in bed for a while after he hung up, not knowing whether to feel relieved they had something to work on or disappointed their break had been so short. Either way, he was glad to be awake. His dreams had been filled with her, and he attributed it to the smell of her shampoo.
He grabbed his phone again and clicked through the numbers slowly. She was on his speed-dial, but wasn't in a hurry. It didn't take too long to get through to the B's anyway.
"Booth?" Her voice was sleepy and had an endearing kind of rasp to it.
"Yeah Bones. We've got a case."
She groaned. "Already? And so early in the morning?"
"Murder doesn't wait, I guess."
"You don't even know it is murder," she grumbled. He heard sounds from her end and assumed she was getting up.
"Two bodies," he offered. "That sounds exciting, right?"
There was a squeak followed by the sound of the shower running. "It sounds grim," she replied. "So what time are you coming to pick me up?"
"I'll be there in an hour." His heart began to race, unable to help where his mind drifted knowing she was about to get in the shower.
"Okay. Bye."
He snapped his phone shut and stood up, practically bolting for his own shower. The water was kept very cold.
____
"What did you do with Parker?" she asked as they pulled up to a little coffee shop surrounded by police vehicles and yellow tape. Pedestrians, neighbors, and passing cars all stopped or slowed down, trying to peer in past all the interfering law enforcement to see what the commotion was about.
"Took him to school," replied Booth quickly. "He'll go back to Rebecca's tonight."
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know you like longer breaks so you can spend more time with him."
"What can you do, you know?" he sighed.
They entered the coffee shop, teaming with officers. There was a young barista girl in tears, talking to an officer and motioning frantically toward the back of the store, which was the pair's clue to keep going.
As usual, the smell indicated exactly where they needed to go. No matter how many crime scenes they went to, no matter how many cases they worked, Booth would never get used to the smell. His stomach churned and bile rose in his throat, half from the stench of decaying flesh, and half from anticipation of the grisly sight they would quickly come upon.
It did not disappoint.
The bodies were in stages of extreme rotting, with patches of blackish flesh still clinging to their bones. Their clothing remained remarkably intact, though both bodies looked as though their clothes had been through the shredder. One of them wasn't wearing a shirt. Scraggly strings of remaining hair clung to their scalps, and various pupae made their homes in little craters and niches formed by the receding flesh.
The bodies were lying back behind the dumpster out back of the coffee shop. The stench of the dumpster only added to everything.
Booth tried not to gag while he checked his case notes. "Okay, looks like the girl opening this morning came out chuck some stuff, noticed a really weird smell that had been going on for a while and decided to look for what she thought was a dead rat."
"Well there definitely has been some rodent activity, though that was not the source of the smell," replied his partner, crouching down beside the bodies.
"Really?" Booth said in mock sarcasm. "So, what do we have here? Murder, right?"
Brennan did not reply. Her gaze scanned over the two remains clinically. They still had a bit more flesh than she would have liked, but she could still see enough bone to do what she did best. Her gloved hands reached out to brush things aside and tip things towards her. "Both victims are male," she announced, "Late twenties, early thirties for both."
"Brothers, maybe?" Booth suggested.
"Conjecture," she dismissed immediately. "Besides, look here, their facial structure is completely different. They share no genetic indicators at all. No, I would feel confident in saying there is no way these two could have been brothers."
She moved over to focus on just the one body. "The mandible is crushed here on the side," she noted, tipping the head just a little. "And his nasal cavity is cracked. I wont be able to determine the extent of his injuries until we get him back to the lab and Cam can remove the flesh and the rest of the clothing. Preliminary examinations suggest he was beaten to death. This blow here to his ear was probably fatal."
"Okay, so that's murder. What about this guy? Same story?"
"No," said Brennan, glancing over at him.
Booth snorted, then immediately regretted it for the smell. "Come on, Bones. You didn't even look that closely!"
"Booth, give me just a minute longer with this man." She studied his arms and hands, examining the fingers carefully. "His fingers are dislocated," she said softly. "This man suffered a very painful death."
Booth said nothing. He waited for her continue, knowing now was not the best time to editorialize on that observation.
She moved on to the other body. He was the one not wearing a shirt, so it was easier for her to examine more carefully. "Cracked ribs," she noted, "Some severe damage to the spine."
"He was a tall one," Booth remarked, scanning the revolting corpse with mingled disgust and fascination.
"Yes, very tall," she agreed. She looked at his hands. Her brow furrowed. "Severe cracks on the knuckles. Wait, what…?"
One of the hands had something curled in it. She very gently tipped it over, prying apart the fingers. It was crumpled and paper-like. "I think it's a photograph, but the rotting has destroyed it."
"Think Angela can restore it?" said Booth hopefully.
"Yes." Brennan didn't seem to have any doubt. "This man died from injuries too, though I'm not sure which was the fatal blow yet."
"Double homicide. What a way to start the day." Booth turned and looked for the FBI forensics team. "Alright boys, let's get bodies back to the Jeffersonian for the lady, shall we?"
"And the-,"
"I know, I know," Booth sighed. "And the bugs and all the crap around them."
________
"So, who do we have coming in today?" Hodgins asked wearily, buttoning up his blue lab coat and pinning on his access card.
Camille Saroyan glanced up from her computer distractedly. "We don't know the identities yet."
"Right. Yeah, kind of figured that part. I meant which of Dr. Brennan's fine grad students is coming in this morning?"
"Oh, that." Cam shook her head. "Sorry. I'm just a little distracted this morning. One of Michelle's teachers called and…" her words trailed off, seeing his expression. "You know what, not important. Um, that would be Mr. Bray who is assisting Dr. Brennan today."
"Thanks," said Hodgins quickly, though he didn't feel like saying it after all. He glanced around Cam's office idly. "You did say identities, right, as in plural? As in more than one victim?"
"Yes, there are two. Dr. Brennan and Booth are one their way over with the remains now."
"Shouldn't Wendell be here then? Dr. Brennan's not going to be happy if he's late." The idea was all too appealing. Hodgins felt sick for wishing Brennan's wrath upon the intern's head, but he couldn't help himself.
"Actually he's already here. He's in bone storage, familiarizing himself with unfamiliar injuries."
"Oh." He couldn't help but be disappointed. "You know who we haven't had in a while? Fisher. I really liked that guy."
Cam gave him a patient, though very knowing smile. Obviously, she knew exactly what his opposition to Wendell was. "It's up to Dr. Brennan which of her grad students she puts into the rotation."
"I never thought Dr. Brennan could be bribed, but I honestly think Daisy is only in the rotation because of Sweets." He seized the opportunity to redirect Cam's thoughts. He didn't want her patience or understanding or pity.
"Ooh," said a warm honey-smooth voice. "Don't let Bren here you say that or she'll withhold all your precious particulates."
Cam and Hodgins turned to see Angela sliding in behind them, grinning. She looked strikingly pretty today, as she often did, with her hair in glossy loose curls and an eclectic necklace sported around her slender neck. She was in her labcoat as well, awaiting the grim moment when her two macabre portrait-subjects would arrive.
Hodgins sighed internally at the sight of her. It was not a good sigh. Outwardly, however, he gave her a crooked smile. "I didn't say she was being bribed, only that I can't think of an alternative explanation to why she keeps Daisy around."
"Don't forget, Hodgins," Cam interjected, "Brennan had quite a number of students to choose from. Daisy is intelligent and good at what she does, when she can be focused. Brennan must have seen something in her."
"Besides, she's calmed down a bit, hasn't she?" Angela agreed. "Sweets has been good for her."
Hodgins snorted incredulously. "I'd still rather work with Fisher, or Vincent."
Angela's eyes flicked to his. They were cold and penetrating. He quickly amended his list. "Or Wendell, of course."
"Mm-hm." It was clear she suspected exactly why her boyfriend had been notably absent. She turned her attention to Cam.
"I'd like to take a long lunch later today, if that's alright. I'm meeting with Avalon again and this afternoon was the only time she could do it. And I really didn't know we were going to have a case today when I scheduled."
Cam held up her hands. "You can take whatever time you need, as long as whatever you need to do for the case gets done."
"You might have more work than you thought," said Hodgins. "Two victims this morning."
"Two." She grimaced.
"Why do you need a psychic anyways?"
But before she could answer his question, a chirping alert sound sounded in the building, notifying the team that remains were now being brought in.
"Let's go to work, people," Cam ordered, ushering them out of her office.
____
"Wow," Angela said, wrinkling her nose. "You weren't kidding. Two for the price of one. Bargain."
They ascended the steps onto the forensic platform where the FBI team had just unloaded the two bodies. Booth and Brennan were supervising and, per usual, squabbling over something menial and superficial. Nobody bothered to listen in to find out what about. They were used to their behavior.
"Okay, so what do we have here?" said Cam, approaching the two autopsy tables.
Brennan gave Booth a final glare and turned to her team. "Two unrelated males, late twenties, both Caucasian. One of them has suffered massive injuries consistent with a beating. The other has similar injuries, but fewer. I wont know more until you remove the flesh."
"Hello my beauties," Hodgins crooned, approaching the first body to discover the maggots feasting on the flesh.
"We caught some rats for you too," Booth said with obvious disgust.
Hodgins awarded him a huge grin. "Why Booth, you shouldn't have."
"These are really gross," Angela sighed. "They're always gross, I know, and we definitely have seen worse but… ugh. I'm with Bren on this one, I like it better when they're just skeletons."
Booth glanced over at her. Out of anyone here besides Bones, he liked her the most. He certainly related to her better than anyone else. "Hey Angela. You look pretty today."
"Thanks Booth." Her smile was genuine. "And you look dashing yourself. Nothing like fresh corpses in the morning to wake you up, right?"
He chuckled.
"Where is Mr. Bray?" Brennan said as she snapped on her gloves.
"Coming, Dr. Brennan!" called the handsome young intern from across the lab. He was hurrying over, apparently flustered he hadn't been warned the examination was beginning. Brennan frowned lightly at his tardiness.
Hodgins felt smug.
"This man here suffered a lot of trauma to the face," Cam murmured, leaning down over the shorter body. "A lot of hemorrhagic tissue here."
"Ange, we'll need ID's as soon as you can." Brennan frowned deeper, peering down at the other victim. "Although, it seems they're missing some teeth. You might have to do a facial reconstruction."
"Okay, Sweetie, just let me know when you're done with the skull."
Booth fidgeted impatiently, watching Wendell approach the group and join in their discoveries. He hated this part. Usually he'd go back to his office and wait for their results, but he knew Hacker would be there, peppering him with questions about Bones. He couldn't stomach that this morning.
"Mr. Bray, tell me what you make of the fractures along Victim 2's phalanges," Brennan murmured in a familiar, instructing tone.
Wendell leaned in closer to see.
"Hey, Angela, we found a picture in the guy's hand. Think you can restore it?" Booth turned to the box of evidence and fished out the plastic baggie containing the crumpled paper.
"I can try." She reached out and took it in her hand, examining it through the bag. "It's pretty destroyed, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but you got your fancy computer and your amazing talent." Booth flashed her one of his best smiles.
She laughed. "Okay, tough man. I'll give it a try."
"It would appear," Wendell announced, "That the fractures in Victim 2's knuckles are consistent with the injuries suffered to Victim 1's jaw."
"Are you saying the second guy beat the first guy to death?" Booth asked, whipping around.
"Yes," Brennan replied confidently. "This is our murderer. His hands show clear evidence of trauma suffered by one who is repeatedly punching someone else in the head."
"Right, okay, but what about him? How did he die?"
"We're still determining that," Brennan said in mild irritation. Wasn't one conclusion good enough for him?
"Ugh, what's the point? He's dead. Isn't that good?" The hate on Angela's face was obvious as she glared at the second man's body.
"Well we don't know why he killed the first man," Cam reminded her. "We've got to remain objective here."
"Right, objective about a murderer." She shook her head. "If you want to see Booth, I'm going to go work on this photograph while they keep going. Maybe we can get an ID for one of them."
"Yeah, I'd rather watch you do that then them do this," he agreed quickly, following her down off the platform.
____
Angela scanned the photo and began to run the restoration program she'd built. It was going to take some time. "I'm isolating what colors remain intact right now. We'll have to rebuild the lost hues later."
"Sure, just do your thing. I don't really need the explanation." Booth fell back on her couch, glancing around at the art scattered along her walls. "Hey how come you don't use the Angelator anymore?"
"I've got better stuff on my new system." She shrugged, her eyes darting away from her huge screen to scrutinize him. "So you want to explain to me why my best friend bailed on our girls night?"
He chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head once. "I might have known it wouldn't take you long to get to this."
She put down her tablet and turned to fully face him, her hands on her hips. Her expression had a slight grin, but there was also a fire there that demanded answers. "Look, Mr. Big-Shot Sexy FBI hero, I know she went out with you last night. I know because when she called to cancel our plans, she wouldn't tell me why, and when I got annoyed she said to blame you. So you'd better tell me what happened, or I'm going to assume the worst, and everyone here already knows I have the most reputable gossip around, so very soon all us squints you love so much will think that you and Brennan were knockin' boots last night."
"Okay, okay," said Booth, holding up his hands. "Geeze, Angela. You're worse than Gitmo. Why would you go around spreading rumors like that? I thought you were one of the good people."
She didn't reply. Her hard stare intensified.
"Alright, alright. I took Parker to dinner with my grandfather last night, and Pops requested I bring Bones too. I guess they really hit it off when we worked that foreclosure case."
"So you guys went to a cozy little family dinner?" A slow smile started to unfold. She came over and dropped into a seat opposite him.
"Come on, Bones doesn't do family, you know that." But his mind couldn't help recalling memories from the night before, memories that proved she could indeed fit into a family.
"Ouch." Angela winced. "A little harsh, Boothy. She tries."
He sighed, regretting his defensive remark. "I know. Sometimes she does pretty well."
"So after dinner…?" she pressed hopefully.
"I dropped her off at her apartment and then went home with Parker. And now here we are, two dead guys later."
"What a romantic morning-after." Her sarcasm was as evident on her face as it was in her voice.
"Booth!" called Brennan, hurrying into the room with Wendell in tow.
The artist and the agent turned quickly towards the doorway, surprised to see them so soon. It hadn't been more than ten minutes.
"What is it, Bones? You've got that excited 'new-discovery' look on your face."
And she did. Her startling gray-green eyes were bright and alive, her whole countenance was lit up by them. "We got an ID on the first victim, and we know how the second victim died."
"Great, give me the specifics," he said with a grin, flipping open his notebook.
"Victim number one is named Lloyd Ellman, aged 31, from New Jersey. Cam was able to get a fingerprint off his other hand. The second victim we still don't have identity on, but while Mr. Bray was examining his exposed clavicle, he noticed tiny striations on the bone. I confirmed and determined it was caused by a single gunshot wound just above the throat, here-." She indicated near the hollow of her neck with one hand. "It would have severed the jugular. Death would have been very bloody."
Angela grimaced immediately at the imagery. "That was fast. So case closed? Lloyd Ellman kills John Doe and John Doe kills Lloyd Ellman?"
"Not quite," said Wendell. "Hodgins will have to confirm with the Mass Spec, but we didn't find any evidence of gunpowder on Lloyd Ellman's hands. We believe there was a third party."
"It was probably self-defense," muttered the artist. "The guy probably came after this third party person when he got caught beating Lloyd to death."
"Ange, Cam told you to stay objective. You know how I feel about that kind of conjecture. It's just story-telling at this point. We have no evidence." Brennan's voice was soft but reproachful.
"I'm sorry, Sweetie, but I just can't feel bad for a dead murderer. I can't."
"Just work on getting that picture restored, alright?" Booth said quickly before Brennan could respond. He turned to his partner. "So, what do you want to do? You want to stay here and keep working or do you want to go with me to talk to people who knew Lloyd Ellman?"
"Well until Cam has finished, I don't have much to do that Mr. Bray can't handle."
Wendell glanced at Angela, encouraged by the idea of his superior leaving. As awkward as it was having everyone else know, he simply could not get comfortable enough to be affectionate toward Angela while Dr. Brennan was around. Maybe it was because she was her best friend, but more likely it was because she was still his teacher and mentor and supervisor.
But Angela wasn't looking at him. She was watching the exchange between Brennan and Booth with determined fixation.
"Alright, well let's swing by the Hoover to see what contacts my team can dig up," Booth suggested, pocketing his small notebook again. He turned back to Angela. "So, we're good, right? You don't have to deploy any of your rumors of mass destruction, right? I gave you what you want?"
She smirked knowingly. "Well, it's not really what I want, but it's what I asked for so yeah, you're off the hook…for now."
Brennan gave both of them an inquisitive look, which they both chose to ignore. Wendell seemed likewise confused.
"Alright, well then if things are squared away here, let's get going, Bones." Booth gave Angela and Wendell a brief nod, lightly redirecting his partner with a touch on the small of her back. Brennan responded to the familiar motion and exited a few steps ahead of him.
Wendell turned back to Angela after they had gone. "What was that all about?"
She half-smiled and stood, brushing past him to return to her computer. "Oh nothing, just ferreting out information from Booth."
He trotted after her. "What information?"
"I don't think it would be appropriate to share." Or rather, she wasn't willing to share.
Wendell was one of Dr. Brennan's top grad students, which was why he'd gotten a position as one of the rotating interns in the lab, meaning he was very intelligent. Unlike most of the others, however, he was not socially impaired by his intelligence. In fact, he was really rather normal, perhaps the most so out of any of the squints in the lab besides Angela. It was the reason Booth liked him better than the others, and the reason why Dr. Brennan sometimes underestimated his capabilities. What it meant at the moment, though, was that he could clearly recognize that something was not quite right about this interaction with his girlfriend. So he approached, slipping an arm around her waist to draw her in close to him.
"Is everything okay?"
Angela kept her gaze trained on her screen. "Fine," she responded. "I just really need to focus on getting this photo restored. It'll help us ID John Doe. Don't you need to go assist Cam or something?"
The dismissal was painfully clear. He frowned, pulling away from her again. "I suppose I can go try to determine the full extent of Lloyd Ellman's injuries."
"Good." She glanced at him, but her smile was forced.
"So I'll still see you at lunch, right?"
"No, actually. I'm meeting with Avalon."
"Oh." He retreated slowly, reluctant to part with her behaving so strangely. "Well, after work then."
"Sure." She watched him go, an ugly feeling of discomfort rising inside her. She shouldn't have been quite so cold, especially since she didn't even know why she wanted him gone. Ever since the pregnancy scare, things had not been the same between them. He still didn't know about that, and she wasn't about to tell him.
Sighing, she focused back on the screen. Something else to talk to Avalon about. Lately, it was feeling more and more like her life was slowly unraveling out of her grasp, and she couldn't find the end of the string to stop the process. Nothing felt right. She was restless, needing to make a change, but without knowing what change she should make. That was why she needed a psychic, though it wasn't what she would have told Hodgins when he asked.
____
"I hate this part of the job," she muttered quietly as the SUV pulled up to a small rambler home.
"You can handle rotting corpses, but not grieving people." He had sometimes scoffed at the irony, but today the statement fell with a heavier thud.
"Remains don't expect me to comfort them, to make the pain of their loss go away." She reluctantly unbuckled her belt and jumped out before he had a chance to come around and get the door for her.
"Lloyd Ellman's parents deserve to know what happened to their son, and it's our job to tell them," Booth explained patiently as they walked towards the door. Sometimes with her it was like being on a carousel. They'd been around this conversation a hundred times.
"Technically, it's your job. Mine is primarily with skeletal remains."
He shot her a mildly irritated glance. "Then why are you here with me now instead of leaning over those two moldy bodies back at the lab?"
"Well, we're partners." She frowned.
"Exactly." He knocked on the door in four sharp raps.
Brennan shifted her weight to the other foot, fighting the writhing sensation of extreme discomfort in her stomach. She dreaded this part the most of any case. No matter how many they worked, it never got better.
"Did Parker have a good time last night?" she asked quietly, hoping to distract herself.
Booth glanced at her. "Yeah, he did, thanks. And thanks for, you know, helping him wash his hair. I appreciate it."
"It was actually quite pleasant," she replied with a small smile. "He is a very engaging child."
They heard footsteps and a moment later the door swung open, revealing a middle-aged woman who seemed a little put out that she was made to come to the door. Her hair was frizzy and coarse, seemingly having suffered too many bleaches. Her face was weathered; the face of a woman who has known some sort of struggle all her life.
"Good afternoon. Are you Mrs. Ellman?" Booth greeted.
The woman frowned deeper. "Yeah, who are you?"
"Special Agent Seely Booth with the FBI. This here is my partner, Dr. Temperence Brennan. We'd like to take a moment to talk to you about your son Lloyd, if you have a minute."
"Oh for the love of-," she cut her cuss off short, stepping aside. "Fine, come in."
They walked into the small house, hit immediately with the familiar smell of one who dwells among the lower classes of society. It was the smell of old carpet, of tacky décor, of cigarette smoke, and of one-too-many cats. The home was dimly lit and a small TV blared some kind of cold-case crime show.
"What did the little turd do this time?" she asked gruffly.
"Mrs. Ellman, is your husband home? It would be good to speak to you both together." Booth already knew her husband didn't work. His truck was parked around the side of the house, and the file said he was collecting disability benefits.
"Fine, I'll go get him," she snipped. "Please, have a seat."
She disappeared down the narrow hall, one of the feline culprits leapt out at her feet as she passed. Brennan and Booth observed the love-seat, covered with cat hair. They glanced at once another. Brennan's revulsion was clear.
"I would have pegged you for a cat person, Bones," Booth said with a grin.
"I prefer dogs," she said immediately. "Are you going to sit? I'm not. I'll remain standing."
"I'm not sitting on that either." They made sure to keep their voices low. "Just be kind. Remember why we are here."
It took over ten minutes for the surly Mrs. Ellman to return, this time with her husband in tow. He was a man befitting his wife. "What's this about?" he grumbled at the two visitors. "What's with the suits?"
"Sir, I'm Agent Booth from the FBI. This is my partner, Dr. Brennan. We have some news about your son Lloyd."
"Yeah yeah. Just tell me his charges and how much they're wanting for bail. I'm surprised they got the FBI involved this time."
Again, Booth and his partner exchanged a glance. These two unfriendly parents, acting so jaded towards their son's misdeeds, would not be the same people two minutes from now.
Booth cleared his throat. "It's not like that. You see, we found some human remains that we have identified as your son."
It was silent for a full second, and then suddenly it was as if all the wind had been sucked from the room. Brennan felt a painful twisting somewhere inside her, but she couldn't look away while horror fell over the parents' faces. It was a very familiar scene, she'd seen it a hundred times at least, but as much as she hated it, the tragedy of it all still gripped her.
"Are you sure?" squeaked the mother.
"Yes. Fingerprint analysis correlate with your son's," said the anthropologist softly. "We're so sorry."
"Lloyd's remains were found with those of another man. When you're ready, we'd like to ask you about who Lloyd associated with." Booth's own voice was quiet, understanding, tentative.
Mrs. Ellman let out a moaning kind of wail and turned into her husband, burying her face against his shirt while tears flooded her face. Her husband wrapped his arms around her, cradling her with tenderness they would not have supposed he possessed one minute ago. "It's probably our other son. Patrick. The boys were always together. Always."
"Facial architecture suggest the second victim was not related to your son in any capacity," replied Brennan quickly. She noted the name, however, since it seemed likely to be the identity of their third party.
"Mr. Ellman, how long have your sons been missing?" asked Booth.
The man passed a trembling hand over his face. "We didn't know they were. They were adults, you know. They had to make their own decisions. We told the boys they couldn't live here anymore. They got into serious drugs, got into a lot of trouble. We kicked them out and rarely heard from them. How long has Lloyd…?"
Brennan wondered if he really wanted to know the answer. "At least a month."
Mrs. Ellman stirred, pulling her face away long enough to give them a hard look. "Did she say victim a moment ago?"
Booth sighed. "Yes. We believe Lloyd and the other man were murdered."
Brennan shot him a reproachful look. That statement was misleading, and anything less than the truth irked her. The truth was that the other victim most definitely murdered their son. Why shouldn't they know that?
But implicit, learned trust in his methods stayed her tongue and kept her from correcting him.
"Murdered," repeated Mrs. Ellman, her face crumpling again. There was such clear agony there, an agony Brennan herself did not know and could not relate to. She looked away.
"Where is Patrick?" demanded Mr. Ellman in a husky voice.
"We were hoping you would have some idea of that, actually," said Booth. "We would like to talk to him, for obvious reasons."
Brennan returned to the information they were hoping to find. "Mr. Ellman, did either of your sons have any very tall, very broad friends? This would have been a Caucasian man about your son's age who would have appeared remarkably tall."
"No," whispered the mother. "They didn't."
"Trish, we don't know that," hissed her husband softly. He glanced up at met their inquiring stares. "We have no idea who they would have associated with on the street."
"It was those drugs!" wailed his wife with pained vehemence. "Those drugs got my boys killed. Those men who deal them, the people who do them. They killed my babies!"
"That is actually a likely scenario," said Brennan with grim surprise. She didn't suspect the mother was the kind of woman to make intuitive leaps like that.
"Bones," shushed Booth with a frown. He turned back to the parents. "Thank you for your time, Mr. and Mrs. Ellman. We'll keep you updated."
The pair retreated towards the door, a little relieved to be going so quickly. Some of their relief stemmed from escaping the home, but most of it came from escaping the grief. They were eager to get away, to continue their investigation, to leave the parents to their newfound sadness.
"Agent Booth," said Mr. Ellman suddenly.
Both partners turned back.
The man's hands were shaking and he looked both enraged and on the brink of tears. "You find my son. You find Patrick. And then you bring my boys home."
"I'll do my best, sir," Booth promised softly.
____
Back in the car, there was a distinct sense of disappointment. They were silent for a good portion of the drive. Years of experience had taught them there wouldn't be much hope in this situation. If it was as the Ellmans said and their sons were deep in the drug world, the murders were probably drug-related and therefore difficult for them to trace.
"We may never find Patrick Ellman," Brennan said quietly.
"I know." Booth kept his eyes on the road. He felt his mood sinking further and further. "How come yesterday was such a great day, and today is turning into a trip down the toilet bowl?"
She wrinkled her nose at the metaphor, but glanced at him curiously at the first half of the remark. "Yesterday was a great day?"
"Yeah." He was suddenly unsure of himself. "Wasn't it a good day for you too?"
"Yes." She smiled.
But the good feeling recalled by the memory was fleeting. They still had two dead men at the lab to deal with. The weight of them was heavy in their minds, impossible to ignore. After so long of doing this, neither of them would be able to simply back out and leave questions unanswered. That wasn't what they or their team did.
"I'm going to see what I can dig up on the Ellman boys, see if I can't find Patrick anyway," murmured Booth.
Brennan nodded once. "Take me back to the lab. I'm going to focus on the second victim, find out who he is and see where that path leads us."
"We can't give up hope yet. We'll find out what happened to these men."
"I know." She half-smiled, but it was weak. "We always do."
{Okay, next chapter will be up ASAP! And I think you guys are really gonna like it. And don't worry, this case will get WAY more interesting soon, and way more meaningful. Also coming up: yay for Avalon! :D}