A Pain That I'm Used To—Chapter 8
Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Author's notes: Once again, thanks for reading and special thanks to those who are reviewing. I always appreciate your comments and observations. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's the last one I have written…between my nephew's birthday party this weekend and going back to work this evening I'm not sure when I'll have time to write but I promise to try and update again soon.
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Booth glanced over at Brennan's sleeping form in the passenger seat and smiled slightly. He found it nice to see her relaxed for a change…even if she had to be unconscious to achieve that state. He had sensed a great deal of anxiety emanating from her in the last few days but per usual she had not mentioned how she was feeling or what she was thinking.
The trip to Willow Lake had started out as business talk. They had discussed Hodgins' findings and Brennan had taken the time to explain some of the finer, more scientific mumbo-jumbo portions of the report. He would never understand why they didn't just use the common everyday words that everyone could understand instead of their "squint language".
After discussing the findings, Booth had innocently questioned what she and Angela had been chatting about. He had noticed Brennan's trademark glare directed at her best friend upon entering Angela's office. Brennan muttered something under her breath that Booth couldn't make out and then simply stopped talking. She had stared out the passenger's side window until drifting off to sleep an hour ago.
Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to a tune stuck in his head, Booth stole another glance at her. He found lately that he couldn't seem to stop himself from doing that…looking at her, watching her movements. Over the past few weeks, he had realized that he could anticipate each one of her moods simply by her stance. He found that he enjoyed learning new things about her…things that she didn't necessarily know about herself. For instance, at the moment Booth was learning that the great Dr. Temperance Brennan snored slightly in her sleep. It wasn't a loud disturbing snore. It was a soft, heavy breathing type of snore which made Booth grin.
He slowed the SUV as he turned on Main Street and began searching for the small sheriff's office. He noticed the stares of the locals in the small community as he pulled into a parking space near the entrance to the sheriff's office. This confirmed yet another conclusion Booth had drawn about the case—a stranger had nothing to do with Ronald and Katherine Thompson's disappearance or deaths. Booth would have bet money that the locals would have called 911 in two seconds flat at the sight of a stranger out and about in their community.
After unbuckling his seatbelt, Booth reached across and placed his hand gently on Brennan's shoulder, attempting to rouse her.
"Bones…hey Bones…wakey-wakey."
Brennan's eyes slowly fluttered open and adjusted to the bright sunlight. Feeling incredibly groggy, she silently cursed the anti-anxiety medication she had taken before she and Booth left the lab.
As her eyes focused, Brennan found herself looking at two elderly people who were standing on a sidewalk, pointing at her. "I'm guessing we're in Willow Lake," she said as she yawned.
"What gave it away? The big sign that says 'Welcome to Willow Lake' over there?" he teased her as he watched her rub the sleep from her eyes.
"That and the local people staring at us as if we're from another planet. I guess in a small community it would be hard to miss two total strangers…" Brennan glanced over at Booth and realized by the look on his face that he had been thinking the same thing.
"Would be kinda hard for a stranger to come to town, kidnap two people and kill them without the locals getting all up in arms," Booth agreed. "You might make a decent investigator yet Bones."
"You keep squinting at things and you might make a decent lab assistant," she shot back.
Booth grinned, leaned in close to her face and narrowed his eyes. "You mean squinting like this?"
Brennan didn't move an inch, allowing Booth's warm breath to wash over her face and neck. "Yeah, exactly like that…" she whispered. Their surroundings disappeared around them as they stared at each other. Brennan felt her heart beat faster than normal but she knew that anxiety was not the culprit this time—Booth was.
For his part, Booth was no longer squinting at his partner. His eyes were wide, lost in the clear blue of Brennan's as he inhaled the vanilla scent of her perfume. Just a little closer and his lips would meet hers…
A loud knock on the driver's side window startled them, sending Booth reeling away from Brennan. His cheeks slightly red, Booth rolled down the window allowing Sheriff Fife access to the two occupants.
"Ahem, sorry to intrude on a moment," the sheriff said, slightly embarrassed.
"There was…we were just talking….I had to wake Bones up," Booth stammered through his explanation.
Sheriff Fife leaned down so he could see Brennan in the passenger's seat. She looked over at him and nodded in agreement. "I fell asleep," she agreed lamely. Why did it feel like she and Booth were two teenagers that had been caught making out? She smiled slightly at the thought.
Chuckling softly, Fife straightened and opened the driver's side door for Booth to exit the vehicle. "I believe Dr. Brennan is fully awake now. Why don't we head into my office and go over that file you came for?"
"Yeah, good idea…good idea." Booth quickly climbed out of the SUV and waited for Brennan on the sidewalk. As she stepped onto the curb beside him, Booth placed his hand at the small of her back and they walked toward the office. Booth's subtle, unconscious gesture did not go unnoticed by Fife, whose smiled broadened.
Entering the sheriff's office, Booth and Brennan took in the unusual décor. There were several framed movie posters lining the walls. Dirty Harry, Death Wish and The Hunter were just a few of the titles that jumped out at Brennan. Booth walked over to a small bookcase in the office and picked up a frame containing a picture of Clint Eastwood with the words 'Make My Day' emblazoned across the bottom.
The sheriff noticed their curious stares and chuckled as he took a seat behind his desk. "I actually went to college in hopes of becoming a filmmaker. I love movies…mostly action movies as you can see." He glanced over at Booth who was still holding the picture frame. "Now if that had been a picture of Steve McQueen, you would not have been allowed to touch it."
Booth laughed and set the frame back in its place on the shelf. "Steve McQueen is the man," he agreed. He noticed Brennan's blank stare. "Come on Bones…Steve McQueen? You gotta know who…" He watched as she shook her head. "Bones you have a television and a DVD player now, you could rent a movie every once in awhile." He made a mental note that the next movie marathon they had at her place would showcase Steve McQueen.
Brennan shrugged. "I'm usually too busy," she replied as she took a seat across from the sheriff. "So how does one go from film school to law enforcement?"
Leaning back in his chair, the sheriff rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face. "When one doesn't have enough money to finish school, one goes on to do what his daddy wanted him to do in the first place." He shrugged as he leaned forward, picked up a file and handed it to Brennan. "I believe this is the discussion we should be havin' instead of about my wayward past."
Booth nodded as he swooped in and took the file from Brennan's hand. "When was the last time anyone heard from the Thompsons?"
"July 27th, 2004….Ronald and Katherine ate at the local diner, left around seven o'clock that evening, went home and then just disappeared."
Booth continued to read through the file as he took a seat. "It says here that their car was found in their driveway. Were their children home?"
Fife nodded. "Natalie was fifteen and Joshua was seven when this happened. Natalie said that her parents came home in a good mood, nothing out of the ordinary. She and Joshua went to bed around ten o'clock and when they woke up…their parents were gone."
Booth glanced over at Brennan, noting how tense she had become as the sheriff outlined the events as he knew them.
"Was there any sign of a struggle in the house? Outside…in the driveway? Anything to suggest that Ronald and Katherine fought back?" Booth questioned.
Fife shook his head. "Nothing, there was absolutely nothing. It looked like they just got up and left but they didn't take anything with them." He leaned forward slightly. "I pretty much suspected from the beginning that something had happened to them but I had nothing to go on Agent Booth…absolutely nothing. Whoever did this knew what they were doing…like a professional or something."
Booth studied the other man for a moment, debating how much information he should relay. He reasoned that the sheriff knew better than to discuss an ongoing investigation but Willow Lake was a small town and even law enforcement personnel were not immune to gossip. Before he could decide whether to share the Thompsons' cause of death, Brennan beat him to the punch.
"It wasn't an execution style type of death," she said, echoing Booth's earlier observations. "They were shot in the chest…the heart to be more specific."
Booth sighed. "What?" Brennan questioned. "That's what you said the other day."
"Yeah Bones, I did," he responded sharply. Turning to face the sheriff, Booth leaned forward. "Look, Fife, I know this is a small town and odds are the locals are outside spreading the word that a FBI agent and a forensic anthropologist are in town. I'm also placing odds that most people in this town suspect that we're here about the Thompsons. I just ask, for the sake of the investigation, that what Bones just told you stays in the office among the three of us."
Fife nodded his head solemnly. "I called the FBI in on this 'cause I knew this would be too much for my department…for this sleepy little town. I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize this investigation, Agent Booth."
Leaning back in his chair, Booth smiled slightly, satisfied with the answer he had received. "Good. Now I think we need to speak to the children and any other family members to inform them…you know…and then Bones and I will want to see the Thompsons' house if possible."
"Sure. The kids are now living with their grandmother, Ronald's mother. She's got a nice sized estate near the lake," the sheriff said as he stood and grabbed his hat. "Ronald and Katherine's house is pretty much the way it was two years ago. His mother, Elaine, pays for someone to keep up the house and the yard. It's eerie…almost like they never left."
"They didn't leave," Booth corrected as he and Brennan stood. "At least not of their own accord."
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Brennan perused the file as she and Booth followed the sheriff to Elaine Thompson's residence. She glanced over at her partner noting how silent he was. "You're mad."
Booth glanced over at her, confusion evident on his features.
"At me," she continued. "You're mad at me for telling the sheriff the cause of death."
Sighing, Booth ran a hand through his hair. "No Bones, I'm not mad. I was just debating with myself whether we should tell him everything when you decided for me." He looked over at her again and smiled slightly.
"It sounded like you were mad in the office," she countered.
"Are you trying to start an argument with me?" He frowned as he watched the sheriff's car make a left turn and he turned the steering wheel of the SUV to follow. "Cause if you are, then let's get it over with before we reach the house."
"I'm not starting an argument, Booth. I just stated a fact—it sounded like you were mad at me in the office." Brennan crossed her arms and stared straight ahead.
"Okay, first off, I was not mad…irritated maybe, but not mad and second, believe me when I say that you are trying to start an argument with me whether you realize it or not." Booth turned his full attention back to the road while Brennan contemplated what he had said. She decided to keep her mouth shut when she realized that Booth had made a valid point—she was trying to start an argument and she just didn't quite understand why. Silence enveloped the SUV as they rode along for a couple of minutes.
"This is one hell of a long road," he muttered, breaking the tension.
"It's a driveway, not a road," Brennan replied as a large two story residence came into full view.
Booth slowed the SUV and whistled. "A nice sized estate, huh? My apartment could fit in the garage of this place. Does the file say what Elaine Thompson does?"
Brennan opened the file and read for a moment. "Apparently she married wealthy. Before he died, her husband was an executive with a tobacco company with a healthy appetite for the stock market."
"And what did Ronald and Katherine do for a living?" Booth's curiosity was piqued as to what their home was like.
"Ronald owned a small hardware store in town and Katherine ran a licensed daycare facility."
"Those don't sound like jobs where you'd make a lot of enemies." Booth glanced over at his partner.
"Neither did a high school science teacher or a bookkeeper," she muttered to herself.
Booth felt his heart seize at her words. He wanted to help her explore the thoughts rolling around in her head but now was not the time. He filed her comment away, determined to get through this case first.
Pulling the SUV behind the sheriff's car, Booth and Brennan quickly exited the vehicle and started toward the front door. They stopped when they noticed that Fife was hanging back, standing at his car.
"Um, any particular reason you're not joining us?" Booth questioned.
The sheriff raised his head, shielding his eyes against the sun's rays. "Elaine Thompson and I don't exactly…well, we don't get along too well. I think it's best if I stay out here and wait for you two."
Booth turned back to Brennan and they proceeded toward the front door again. Brennan felt her chest constrict and was surprised that she was still standing considering how wobbly her legs felt. The medication had helped somewhat but she couldn't escape all of the symptoms of an attack.
Noticing Brennan falter slightly, Booth placed his hand on her back as a sign of reassurance. He reached out and rang the doorbell, stealing another glance at his partner. He knew this was going to be difficult—more difficult than any other death notification they had given.
The door slowly opened, revealing a young teenaged girl in a pair of shorts with a bikini top on, her black hair slung into a sloppy ponytail. "Can I help you?" She looked from Booth to Brennan and then back to Booth.
"Hi, I'm Special Agent Booth with the FBI. Is Elaine Thompson home?" He flashed her a small smile.
"Grandmother!" She turned slightly and yelled through the foyer, her voice echoing off the high ceilings.
"Natalie Marie Thompson, how many times must I tell you no yelling in the house?" A distinguished looking elderly woman quickly made her way to the foyer area. "Who is it?"
Natalie turned back to Booth and smiled sweetly. "It's a poster boy for the FBI and some lady."
Elaine Thompson reached the doorway and stood beside her granddaughter. "The FBI? Oh my goodness, what is the FBI doing here?"
Rolling her eyes at the older woman, Natalie turned away from Brennan and Booth. "I imagine it has something to do with Mom and Dad." The young girl's expression was serious as she turned back to the strangers standing at her door. "You found them, didn't you?"
Booth and Brennan both nodded.
"I knew they were dead," she announced as she turned and walked through the foyer into the living room leaving Booth and Brennan standing in a stunned silence.