Hi guys! Thanks for all the great reviews! They really do make my day sometimes. Here's Chapter 6, and as always, Disney + Bones = Not Mine
Around ten o'clock the next morning, Booth and Brennan walked speedily down a hallway, stopping outside of an interrogation room at the local police station. Booth had local police pick up Vince Meyers and bring him back to Orlando for further questioning after Angela's call the night before.
"Wouldn't it have been easier for us to go back to Tampa?" Brennan asked.
"Home court advantage, Bones," Booth said. "I'm taking away his home court advantage."
He swiped the file Brennan was holding from her hands and walked into the interrogation room, leaving Brennan to go into the observation room next door. Vince jumped as the door swung open.
"What's going on?" Vince asked when he saw Booth. "I fully cooperated yesterday!"
"Yeah," Booth agreed, taking a seat across from him. "You just didn't tell us the whole truth, so let's try this again. Friday night…Saturday morning…where…were…you?"
"I told you. I was in my room," Vince said. "Come on, man, I've got a Saturday class in two hours."
Booth opened the file he had taken from Brennan and pulled out three screenshots Angela had e-mailed from the security footage. The first photo showed Vince entering the Magic Kingdom through the ticket turnstiles, the second showed Vince on Main Street, and the third showed him in front of Cinderella's Castle, looking at a map of the park. Booth lined the photos up in sequential order on the table and leaned back in his chair.
"You see, Vince, the thing about Disney World is that there are security cameras everywhere. Our forensic artist found you in the Magic Kingdom almost four hours after you claimed you went back to your room for the night," Booth said. Vince took a deep breath. "So…one more time…where were you Saturday morning?"
"Yeah, okay," Vince sighed. "I was there, but I never even saw her."
"How did you get in? You're not an employee," Booth said.
"I asked my friend to bring me," Vince said. He pointed to a young man in the first security photo. "Him. He's been working there for a while, but he doesn't know Billie."
"You went there looking for Billie?" Booth asked.
"Yeah, but I didn't see her."
"Why were you looking for her?"
"We went out a few times last summer before she moved," Vince admitted. "And a few times since she moved to Orlando, when we both had time, you know? Nothing serious, but I wanted it to be. Two weeks ago…a week before the Magic Kingdom event…she just stopped talking to me."
"Why?" Booth asked.
"That's what I was trying to find out!" Vince said, exasperated.
"Why'd you lie about where you were if you don't have anything to hide?" Booth asked.
"When you said she died on Friday, I put two and two together and realized she was probably the one they found at Disney," Vince said.
"How do you know about the body from Disney?" Booth asked.
"I know the corporation is being very hush-hush about it, but all the employees know, so I heard about it from friends," Vince explained. "I panicked. I know being there looks bad, but I promise. I never saw her. I would never hurt her."
"We'll have someone take you back to Tampa," Booth said. He stood and walked into the observation room.
"Do you believe him?" Brennan asked.
"Yeah," Booth sighed. "But I want to get the interview footage to Sweets and see what he thinks."
"Why?" Brennan asked, pulling out her computer to send the video footage.
"Because he's usually right about these things," Booth said.
Back in Washington, D.C., Angela was sitting on a high stool in front of her Angelatron, the controls resting on her lap. She was still in the process of searching the security footage, each of her screens analyzing a different section of the theme park. Angela was flipping through a magazine to help pass the time when all of a sudden, her Angelatron shut down. Having received no warning that the computer was about to turn itself off, she hurriedly put the magazine down and grabbed the controls, not even realizing that the lights near her desk had turned off as well.
"What the hell?" Angela mumbled. She tried to power her computer back up, but nothing happened. "Uh…okay…what's going on?"
That's when Angela realized that her entire office, not just her computer, had gone dark. She turned around to look out into the rest of the Medico-Legal Lab and found that the center of the lab had lost power as well, now illuminated only by the lab's skylights. She placed her controls on her desk and headed for her husband's work station.
"What happened?" Angela asked as she approached Hodgins.
"Did you just lose power, too?" Hodgins asked, tapping on his blank computer screen. Angela nodded as Mr. Nigel-Murray emerged from the Ookey Room, his face panicked.
"I was just about to finish cleaning the bones, and the boiler just…shut down," he said.
"Yeah, it looks like the whole lab's lost power," Angela said.
Cam walked out of her autopsy lab and joined her team at Hodgins's work area. "Are you all down, too?" she asked. Angela and Hodgins nodded.
"The Tomorrowland Transit Authority in Magic Kingdom operates on linear induction motors which utilize electro-magnets to pull the cars," Mr. Nigel-Murray said.
"Your point?" Hodgins asked.
"It uses very little power," Mr. Nigel-Murray said.
"Unlike the Jeffersonian, which needs a lot of power," Hodgins said. "What about our generators?"
"I'll call the main offices," Cam said, pulling out her cell.
"The doors to the lab are electric," Angela noted. "How do we get out of here?"
Down in Florida, Booth and Brennan had made their way back to the Magic Kingdom. They were standing in the middle of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, near the pirate ship where Billie had been discovered. Ron and Janet were standing off to the side of the room. Ron had his arms crossed against his chest.
"Got something to say?" Booth asked as Brennan pulled supplies out of her bag.
"Just wondering when we can reopen the attraction," Ron said. "The body isn't even in state anymore."
"It's an active crime scene," Booth said. "You'll get your ride back when we get the murderer."
Janet groaned. "I've seen Cold Case. Sometimes you people don't catch the person responsible for twenty or thirty years!"
"This is bad for our business," Ron said. "Pirates of the Caribbean is one of the Magic Kingdom's biggest draws."
"You closed the ride for a lengthy period of time several years ago for refurbishment, and your attendance rates didn't seem to suffer," Brennan said. Upon Booth's surprised look, she added, "I Googled."
"And if you paid attention to Cold Case, you would know that once a case becomes a cold case, the crime scene is no longer considered active," Booth said. "We're getting there. You'll get your ride back soon."
"You know who did it?" Ron asked.
"We've got some ideas," Booth lied.
"Who did it?" Janet asked.
"That's privileged information. Can we get on with this, please?" Booth asked.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked.
"Our theory is that Billie was attacked and knocked unconscious on one of the boats during the ride and then dragged from the boat to the pirate ship over here," Brennan explained, gesturing to the ride tracks and the ship with her flashlight. "I need to help prove this theory by searching for a blood trail. If the trail exists and our theory seems to be, in fact, correct, we'll need to search each boat for the presence of blood."
"Blood trail?" Janet asked, looking around. "This is the crime scene. There's no blood."
"Maybe not that's visible to the naked eye, but the black light will detect traces of blood, if they exist," Brennan said, holding up her flashlight.
"What do you need from us?" Ron asked.
"Maim the lights," Brennan said.
Upon Ron's confused look, Booth sighed. "Kill the lights. She means…kill the lights."
Ron pulled out his walky-talky and told the person on the other end to turn out the lights. When the room was encased in darkness, Brennan flipped her flashlight on and handed another to Booth. Two small but unmistakable paths from the ride tracks to the pirate ship glowed blue as the light swept over them.
"Wow," Janet said.
"Bones…why are there two trails? Is one from the killer?" Booth asked.
"Possibly…" Brennan said. "However, it's more likely that Billie sustained the complex fracture to her leg when our killer was pulling her body out of the ride, meaning one trail is from the head injury, while the other can be attributed to the leg. I'll collect samples for Cam."
"Get the lights back on," Booth said.
Ron had the lights turned back on, and everyone stood by while Brennan collected her evidence. When she was through, she stood.
"I need to see the boats," Brennan said.
The four migrated to the end of the ride where several empty boats rested on their tracks, one behind another.
"Start with these," Ron said.
"You start over there," Brennan said to Booth, pointing to the end opposite her.
Brennan began scanning her first boat with her flashlight while Booth jogged down to the other end of the line. He swept his light over his first boat.
"Oh, Bones! Blood," he declared.
"That was fast," Brennan muttered. She walked to his boat and examined it, finding only a little cluster of illuminated droplets. She glared at Booth.
"What?" he asked upon her stare.
"Millions of children with various abrasions and injuries sit in these boats every week," she said. "We're talking about a head wound, Booth. Think larger."
They continued to examine the boats until Booth discovered a large pool of blood in the front seat of one of the boats.
"Bones!" he called again. "I mean it this time."
She walked over, examined the boat with her light, and pulled out her materials to collect samples. "Good job," she said, leaning into the boat. While she was leaned over, she removed several small pieces of clear, glittery plastic.
"What's that?" Booth asked.
"Hodgins found similar shards of plastic in the remains," Brennan said. She held her hand out to Ron and Janet. "Look familiar?" They both shook their heads no.
Hodgins walked up the stairs by Brennan's office to join Angela and Cam in the Jeffersonian Lounge. He took a seat next to Angela.
"I found a few strands of blonde hair on the victim's clothing," Hodgins announced. "Think it's the victim's?"
Cam shook her head. "Our victim was brunette. The hair may be a clue to our killer."
"Justin Woods is blonde," Angela offered.
"This hair was long," Hodgins said. "Well past shoulder-length."
"How are you doing this in the dark?" Angela asked.
"Flashlights," Hodgins shrugged. "I know how to be low-tech. What's going on with the power anyway?"
"The weekend manager in the main offices said they're having technical difficulties and the entire Jeffersonian complex has lost power," Cam said. "They're hoping to get someone out to fix it tomorrow. I sent Mr. Nigel-Murray home."
"We were debating over who had to tell Brennan," Angela said.
"Oh, not me!" Hodgins declared, hurriedly leaving the lounge. Angela turned to Cam.
"Rock, paper, scissors?" she asked, holding up her fist.
Cam put her glass of water aside and held up her fist. "Sure, why not?"
Late that evening, Booth had returned to the Grand Floridian resort. He was standing out on his balcony, his cell phone to his ear. The sliding glass door connecting the balcony to the room was open.
"Did you get the interview footage from this morning?" Booth asked Sweets.
"Yes," Sweets said. "I believe he's being sincere."
"So you don't think Vince had anything to do with her death?" Booth asked.
"Unlikely," Sweets said. "He loved her, but he appeared to be more disappointed than scornful over her seeming rejection of him. Plus, he has no affiliation with the theme park itself, no emotional attachment to the crime scene."
"Right, hang on a second," Booth said as Brennan walked into the room. Booth stuck his head inside the door and gestured to her phone. "Cam called."
"Thanks," Brennan said. Booth went back out to the balcony and she picked up her phone to call Cam back. When Cam answered, she said, "I just shipped several blood samples to the lab. I wanted to overnight them, but since today's Saturday, you won't have them until Monday."
"That's fine. We have a problem anyway," Cam said.
"What sort of problem?" Brennan asked.
"Are you two sharing a room?" Sweets asked with interest after he had heard Booth talk to Brennan.
"Separate beds, Sweets," Booth said. "Calm down. The place was booked solid."
Sweets grinned. "I find it interesting that you and Dr. Brennan chose to continue sharing a hotel room even after Angela and Hodgins vacated theirs, leaving one of you free to move."
"But we have backup generators!" Brennan cried on her phone conversation.
"They failed, too," Cam said. "They're hoping to have us back up and running tomorrow afternoon. Until then, we're basically stuck."
"I hate this case!" Brennan sighed.
Cam was sitting in the Founding Fathers bar with Angela. Angela, upon hearing Brennan's frustrated sigh, gestured for Cam to hand her the phone. Cam passed her the cell, telling Brennan to hang on.
"Sweetie, it's Saturday night. You should not be stressed on a Saturday night," Angela said. "Don't worry about the case. Go have fun."
"And do what?" Brennan asked.
"Three words: Atlantic Dance Hall," Angela said.
"I'm going to need more words than that, Ange," Brennan said.
"It's a nightclub down on Disney's Boardwalk. It's really fun," Angela said.
"How do you know about nightclubs on the Boardwalk?" Brennan asked.
"Just trust me, sweetie," Angela said. "Grab that man, buy him a drink, and go dance your stress away. You'll thank me later."
Angela hung up before Brennan could protest and handed Cam her phone. Cam was shooting Angela an amused look. Angela grinned.
"Hodgins and I snuck out one night," she explained.
"Of course you did," Cam smiled, calling over the bartender for another round.
In the hotel, Brennan's call ended just as Booth disconnected with Sweets. Booth walked in from the balcony, and Brennan looked up at him from her place on her bed, cocking her head to the side.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.
"Want to get a drink?" she asked.
Later that night, Booth and Brennan stepped into the Atlantic Dance Hall nightclub, one of the only places in Disney that was for adults only. Brennan had changed into dark denim jeans, a purple tank top, and black heels, while Booth swapped his work clothes for jeans and a tee as well. They miraculously found one open seat at the bar, and Booth told Brennan to take it. She sat down on the bar stool, while Booth found a bartender and ordered a beer for each of them. He returned to Brennan, passed her a bottle, and stood in front of where she was sitting.
"I think Angela and Hodgins came here when we weren't looking," Brennan said as she sipped her drink. Booth chuckled.
"Why doesn't that surprise me at all?" Booth laughed.
"Why doesn't it?" Brennan asked in sincerity.
"It would explain why they were so exhausted that morning," he said.
"They could've invited us," Brennan said.
"Would you have wanted to come?" he asked.
"I'm here now, aren't I?" she shrugged.
"Yeah," he nodded, smiling slightly. "Let's dance."
When she didn't put up a fight, he grabbed her hand and pulled her off the barstool and into the crowd on the dance floor. He dropped her hand as they started moving to the music, stars twinkling on the ceiling above them. A small smile crept across her face as she danced, and he grinned. She danced as geeky as one would expect for a squint, but she looked like she was enjoying herself nonetheless.
One song bled into another as the DJ spinning the tunes made sure not to allow a moment without music to fill the club. Neither Booth nor Brennan noticed how they progressively moved closer together as they danced. Brennan was too caught up in her movements to take note of their proximity, and Booth didn't realize how close they had gotten until he felt her heavy breaths on his face. When she turned around to dance so she was facing the DJ, and her back was facing him, he instinctively took a step forward, closing the distance between them and placing his hands on her waist. She vaguely flinched, surprised by the contact.
"What are you doing?" she asked. She whipped her head around to look at him when he touched her, her soft, loose hair brushing against his face.
"Don't think," he said into her ear. "Just feel, Bones. Feel the music and just…just don't think."
She nodded and his hands fell down to her hips, guiding her to move them with the beat of the music. Her astoundingly steep learning curve kicked into gear, and it was only moments before she was keeping time to the music with the sway of her body, with his pressed against her back, matching her every move. She kept her face turned towards his as they moved together, and one of her hands rested on top of one of his. She threw her other arm up in the air as she danced, slightly dragging her fingers through his hair on its descent, causing the grip he had on her to tighten. He glanced down at her slightly sweaty body as he moved his hands lower on her hips.
"How long are you going to let us dance like this?" he whispered in a husky voice, his lips brushing against her ear. She let her eyes flicker up to his, and she shot him a grin.
"If I'm not allowed to think, you're not allowed to think, either," she breathed in a tantalizing whisper, raising both of her arms around him again as they danced.
I always wonder if the Bones characters work on weekends. I know most people don't, but I just imagine some of them would go absolutely crazy having to wait two whole days to work on a new case (because surely, some of those cases would come in at the end of a week, right?) or to work on a case that they're close to solving. Anyway…just something I think about during the show sometimes.
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