A Pain That I'm Used To—Chapter 24
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters associated with BONES.
Author's notes: Thanks to all of you who continue to follow this very long story and special thanks to everyone who continues to review.
To jaed621—(holds out an empty glass) Care to share the wine? (wink) I'm glad to know you are still doing a happy dance.
To BonesDBchippie—You win…only Advil for any further aches and pains which I'm certain will heal miraculously in the next chapter or two. (LOL)
And of course to elliot02uk (dear, dear Jean)—That was not snorting you heard! I swear it only sniffling due to sinus trouble…and being left by my lonesome whilst my proofreader walked along the sea wall. (big grin) By the way, when I typed "his concern laid fully", I initially wrote it as "lay" and the same thing with "none of us are (is) leaving". I changed it when my Microsoft Word spell/grammar check challenged my, erm, usually strong command of the English language. (wink) I knew I should have listened to Hodgins when he started his conspiracy rant on how Microsoft's spell/grammar check will be the downfall of our literary society! (LOL) Glad to know you're back because yes, I cannot manage without you.
As usual, read, enjoy and please let me know what you think!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The burnt disintegrated parts of Brennan's car arrived at the lab early the next morning. Hodgins and Zach carefully sifted through the wreckage, arranging jagged pieces as one would a macabre jigsaw puzzle.
As Angela ascended the platform area she spotted them standing side by side arguing over which piece belonged where. She froze as she studied the remnants of Brennan's car laid out on the table. The image of her best friend lying injured in the parking garage would surely haunt her for a long time. Now the image of her mangled torched car would become part of the already vivid nightmare.
"I believe that's part of the rear axle," Zach said as Hodgins moved a small piece of metal from one pile to another.
"Like you know anything about cars," the entomologist snorted. "Besides we're not rebuilding Brennan's car. We're sifting through this to find the components of the bomb."
"Why isn't the FBI doing this?" Zach studied a scorched piece of unidentifiable metal.
"Because Booth told them to send it to us," Angela answered as she approached them. "Any luck?"
"We're gradually working our way through what they could recover yesterday….minus the bits of Dr. Nouvelle." Hodgins stared at the artist, noting her sad expression as she looked at the items on the table. "Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she said as she nodded her head. "It's just…it's sad that he died in that horrible explosion but I'm so glad that it wasn't Bren, you know?"
"We all are," Zach agreed. "It's extremely feasible that if Agent Booth had not taken the initiative to steal Dr. Nouvelle's parking space and then concocted the plan for him to move Dr. Brennan's car…"
"Booth did not 'concoct' anything Zach," Hodgins corrected. "We're all just damn lucky things played out the way they did. Otherwise he would have thought the threat to Brennan's life was over and allowed her to drive…"
"Enough!" Angela snapped at them. "Please, enough. Jack's right…we're lucky. They were lucky. Now you two just try to find out something to help Booth catch the bastard behind this."
She turned on her heel and quickly walked to her office, closing the door and her blinds behind her.
"Do you think she's okay?" Zach glanced over at Hodgins who was staring at the artist's office door.
"No, she's not," he answered softly.
"I would have to concur…simply on the basis that she said 'Jack's right'."
Turning his gaze to the young assistant, Hodgins removed his gloves and disposed of them. "Start swabbing a few of the pieces for any possible residue from the components of the bomb."
As he descended the stairs and started toward Angela's office he heard Zach calling after him. "But how do I label where the swabs came from if I don't know what I'm swabbing?"
"You're supposed to be a genius…figure it out Einstein."
He stopped outside of her door and knocked before proceeding inside. "Hi. Do you mind if I come in?"
Seated at her desk with a sketch pad in her hands, Angela shrugged. "Sure."
Taking a seat across from her, Hodgins watched as the pencil in her hand glided effortlessly across the paper. He had no idea what she was drawing but he knew that it would be another beautiful piece of art. He had long admired her ability to translate her emotions onto a tablet or a canvass and have everyone who looked at it understand who she was and what she felt in that moment.
"Did you want something Jack? Or did you come in here to stare at me all day?" She studied him as she looked over the top of the sketch pad. The blue shirt really brings out his eyes, she thought appreciatively.
"I…uh…I'm sorry."
"For what?" First Brennan had entered her office and apologized and now Hodgins. Not only was her office the new hangout, it was apparently a confessional as well.
"For what I said…on the platform…what Zach and I said…sorry."
"It's okay." She sighed as she placed the pad on her desk. "I'm just being overly sensitive I suppose."
"I thought artists were supposed to be sensitive," he teased gently. "Besides I thought you would be concentrating on Brennan's little confession from yesterday."
Angela smiled slightly. "Yeah, that is a much nicer topic."
Glad to see that he had elicited a smile from her, Hodgins stood and moved toward the door.
"Hey Jack."
"Yeah Ange."
"What would you say to having lunch with me later?"
He grinned at her. "I would say that's the least you can do with the twenty bucks you got off me."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Okay, Hodgins and Zach should be knee deep in what's left of your car by now." Booth snapped his new cell phone shut and pressed down on the accelerator increasing the speed of the SUV as they traveled down the long stretch of highway.
"Hopefully they can find some components of the bomb or at least swab the remnants to determine what materials and chemicals were used." Brennan glanced over at him, noting how tense his posture had become when the topic of the car bomb came up. "How's your shoulder this morning?"
"Stiff…but better. You still doing okay?"
"Yeah. It's just going to take awhile to heal. At least I can breathe a little easier today."
"How long did it take last time?" He looked over at her and saw her tense slightly. "Bones, what happened in El Salvador?"
"That's a long story Booth…"
"We've got thirty minutes before we get to Willow Lake," he countered.
"It will take longer than thirty minutes to tell you about that."
"There's not a 'Cliff Notes' edition of 'Brennan's Last Trip to El Salvador'?"
"I don't know what that means," she said as she turned away from him and stared out the window.
He rolled his eyes. Of course she wouldn't know about Cliff Notes—he was certain she had never used them in her life.
"You were obviously injured in some way…I heard Angela when that doctor mentioned your previous injuries."
"Booth, would you care to discuss the damage to the soles of your feet that I observed on your x-rays?"
He noticed that her tone of voice was different almost as if she had emotionally detached herself from the conversation.
"No, I wouldn't," he answered after a moment. Had she suffered some sort of torture comparable to what he had endured in Saudi Arabia? Booth realized that he had never contemplated the inherent dangers of her job although he should have, given her world travel experience.
"Then just drop it…please."
"Okay," he agreed softly.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"What the hell happened to you two?" Sheriff Fife asked as they entered his office. "Accuse someone else of a murder they didn't commit?"
"No, a crime syndicate put a bomb in my car," Brennan replied succinctly as she walked past him and took a seat.
Fife stared at her for a moment before turning to Booth. "Is she serious?"
"Is the Pope Catholic?" Booth saw Brennan open her mouth and he quickly put his hands up. "Rhetorical question Bones…rhetorical."
"Oh…okay."
"Anyway, what brings you two back to my office? Did you solve the case?" He sat down behind his desk and stared at them.
"As a matter of fact, yes." Booth smiled at him as he tossed the evidence on the sheriff's desk. "We need your help though."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"But Sheriff you know I wasn't speeding!" Billy exclaimed as Fife escorted him into the building. "Besides, the last time you pulled me over I just got a ticket. What's with the handcuffs?"
"People with badges and guns usually put murder suspects in handcuffs," Booth answered as Fife pushed Billy into the small interrogation room.
"Mur..murder?" the young man stammered. "What…what are you talking about?"
Brennan removed the photographs that Angela had taken of the site from her folder and arranged them in front of Billy. She then placed a copy of the letter and the map that Fife had received beside them.
"Oh god." Billy's normally tan skin became a sickly white color. "Oh god…how did…I just wanted you to find them. That's all…Natalie deserved to know where her parents were."
Booth sat down beside the scared young man and pushed the photographs of Ronald and Katherine's bodies closer to him. "You buried your girlfriend's parents near a tree where you carved yours and Natalie's initials as a declaration of love." He pointed to the photo of the tree that showed the outline of a heart with 'N.T and B.R.' scrawled into it.
He then held up the map and the letter. "I fairly certain my people will have no problem proving that this is your handwriting…same goes for the prints we found on the paper and envelope. Any good prosecutor in this state will be able to use all of this evidence to their advantage and paint you as an evil killer with no remorse." He leaned in closer to Billy. "That would guarantee the death penalty kid. But now someone who shows remorse and helps out the police…jurors can be quite forgiving of someone like that."
Billy sat frozen, staring at the mountain of evidence in front of him. Booth glanced over at Brennan and nodded for her to proceed with the next part of their strategy.
"Do you know how the state of Virginia executes murderers?" Brennan asked as she took a seat across from him. "Lethal injection. It sounds easy…they stick a needle in your arm and allow chemicals to enter your bloodstream. What they don't tell you is that the first chemical paralyzes you. You can't talk…can't move…can't cry out for them to stop."
Billy was sweating profusely as he listened to Brennan, his eyes darting back and forth between the anthropologist and the agent.
"Then they release the other chemicals which stop your breathing. The inside of your body will feel like it's on fire as you…."
"I didn't kill them!" he screamed and began crying. "I didn't kill them. I tried to stop her…I told her to call for help and she said no. She made me help her." The young man was now sobbing. "She made me…"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan…oh goodness, what happened to you two?" Maggie studied the couple as they stood outside the front door of Elaine Thompson's residence.
"Short version—car bomb," Booth answered as he withdrew a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. "This is a warrant to search the premises…you'll notice we have a special interest in your living quarters."
"Maggie, who is it?" Elaine called out from the living room.
The small middle aged woman read through the details of the warrant and then glared at Booth and Brennan. "You two think you're so smart," she hissed. "Feel free to look through the entire house. You won't find anything."
"Maggie? Did you not hear me? Oh Agent…my goodness what happened to you two?" Elaine stopped short at the sight of the injured couple.
"Long story," Booth said as he waved his hand dismissively.
"Car bomb," Brennan replied. Booth threw her a questioning glance. "What? That was the short version."
"Good lord," Elaine gasped.
"Mrs. Thompson, we've just served Maggie with a warrant to search the residence—specifically her living quarters." He watched as the older woman grabbed the warrant from Maggie's hands.
"What on earth do you…?"
"We're searching for the gun that killed your son and his wife," Brennan said.
"You think Maggie had something to do with it? That's absurd. I'm calling my lawyer."
"Good idea. Maggie here is going to need one." Booth stepped past the two women into the foyer. "The warrant gives me permission to search the premises and that's what Dr. Brennan and I intend to do. Now with your cooperation, there will be a minimal need for clean up…"
"Why do you think Maggie had anything to do with Ronald's murder?" Elaine cried.
"We don't think she did Mrs. Thompson. We know she did." Booth stared at Maggie who crossed her arms defiantly.
"And how exactly did you manage to come to this conclusion?" she asked as she stared back at Booth.
"Billy." The news of her nephew's betrayal caused Maggie to tremble with anger.
"That little bastard!" she screamed.
"Maggie." Elaine took a step back from her long time friend and helper. "Is it…is it true?"
"Call Joseph, Elaine," she said as she glared at Booth and Brennan. "I'm not saying anything else until a lawyer is present. These accusations are ridiculous."
Booth sauntered to the front door and beckoned for the deputy that Fife had sent with them. "Make sure that these ladies stay in the living room area while Dr. Brennan and I search the residence."
The deputy nodded and motioned for Elaine and Maggie to walk to the living room.
"Mrs. Thompson," Booth called after the older woman who stopped and turned back to him. "Where does Maggie stay?"
Still somewhat shocked at the accusations that had been hurled at her long time friend and helper, Elaine simply pointed to the long corridor to her left before she turned and continued walking to the living room.
Brennan started down the corridor, pulling two pairs of gloves from her jacket pocket. She handed a pair to Booth before sliding a pair on her hands. They opened each door and finally located Maggie's spacious room at the end of the corridor.
"It's always gotta be the last door you open," Booth muttered as they entered the room.
It was apparent that cleanliness was a priority to Maggie. Brennan swept a gloved hand across a small coffee table that was nestled between two plush chairs in one corner of the room and discovered that there was not a speck of dust to be found.
"That explains the extraordinarily clean crime scene," Booth said as Brennan held up her hand to show that there was nothing on the glove.
They began searching through drawers and closet spaces. Booth checked under the queen size bed and then flipped the mattress over. "Nothing," he said, wincing slightly at the pain in his shoulder.
Brennan moved toward the bathroom area opening another closet door and the cabinet doors under the sink. "Nothing in here either," she called out to him.
She reentered the bedroom and found him pacing, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. "It's got to be here Bones. We need that gun. Even with everything we've got…the prosecutor will only go after Billy. We have to tie her to the murder weapon."
Brennan watched as he continued to pace. The persistent creaking sound she heard each time Booth stepped on one particular area of the floor caught her attention. She waited for him to turn around and continue his trek before commanding him to stop.
"What? I know the pacing bothers you Bones but I'm thinking here…"
"No Booth, it's not that…although that does drive me crazy," she admitted. "Take one step back."
He did as she requested and heard the soft groan of the floor beneath his foot.
"Let's move this rug Bones."
Brennan winced as she bent down on one side of the large rug while Booth grabbed the other side. They pulled it back and Booth quickly walked over the hardwood floor to find the area again.
"Right here," he grinned.
Retrieving a small knife from the right pocket of her blue jeans, Brennan handed it to Booth. "I think I'll let you do the honors," she said as her right side began a dull ache.
He placed the blade between two boards and slowly pried one of the boards up. He removed another board and then lifted a large metal container that had been hidden under the floor.
Forgetting the pain in her side, Brennan quickly bent down as Booth opened the container to examine the contents.
"We just won the lottery Bones." He sifted through the contents of the container and let out a low whistle. "And we got the Powerball number too!"
She looked at him with a confused expression. "Is that another way of saying 'we just nailed her ass to the wall'?"
Booth grinned at her and nodded. "Yeah it is."