Snapshots in Time
Chapter Three: The Girl in the Photo
For the first half an hour of the car ride, Brennan was silent, her gaze following the passing scenery out her window. One hand lingered on the slight swell of her stomach.
Booth chanced a glance at her before he returned his eyes to the road. "What're you thinking about?"
"The baby," Brennan answered, looking at him. "I hope it's a girl."
"Why?"
"Because you deserve a little girl to be your princess," was her simple answer.
Booth smiled at this. "Thanks, Bones."
The corner's of Brennan's mouth turned up a bit. "So, what were the foster parents' names again?"
"Uh, David and Kathy Emerson. Currently they have three other foster kids in their care."
Brennan's brow furrowed. "Huh. That name sounds familiar."
"Yeah, well, Joshua Gansberg had one hell of a record - petty theft, assault, underage drinking...maybe that's what got him killed," Booth suggested.
"Yes. Maybe." Brennan returned to her position staring out the window, and Booth understood then that the conversation was over.
An hour an a half later, Booth turned down a dusty dirt road leading to the Emerson household. Joshua's Missing Children's profile hadn't been quite correct - the Emersons lived in a quiet rural area about ten miles outside of Glen Allen. He pulled up to a large, old two-story farmhouse that looked about twenty years past its prime. The house was situated on a large property, and to the left of it was a large pen with a dozen or so grazing goats and a few fat, brown chickens. There was a stable to the right of the house that contained a skinny chestnut-colored horse and two pigs. There were tobacco fields out to the west.
Just as Booth put the SUV in park, a teenage girl with a large mass of dark brown hair tamed with a single braid down her back exited the house. She had a rusty bucket in hand and was wearing work boots. She paused when she saw them, setting down the bucket and smoothing her hair down with one hand.
Booth shifted his gaze to Brennan, who was asleep against the window. He put a hand on her shoulder and shook lightly.
Brennan lifted her head. "Wha...?"
"Bones we're here. And we've got a greeter." He pointed to the girl. "You need a minute?"
"No, I'm fine," She said, yawning and fixing her disheveled hair.
Booth nodded and got out of the SUV, walking around to the other side to open the door for Brennan. She waited patiently for him and accepted the hand he gave her to get out.
"Hi," the girl said with a pleasant smile as they approached her. "Can I help you with something? You need directions?" Booth didn't let her sharp green eyes fool him, she was most definitely Hispanic in origin, although she had no trace of an accent. No country drawl you'd except from these parts, either. She would've been a pretty girl, the kind Booth had drooled over in high school, if not for her knees-and-elbows body type, her baggy hand-me-downs, the scars riddling the inside of her arms, and her unruly hair.
"Uh, no. FBI, I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, and this here is my associate Dr. Temperance Brennan with the Jeffersonian Institute in DC. We're here to ask your foster parents, the Emersons, a few questions about one of the kids who used to live here, Joshua Gansberg," Booth replied.
"Dave and Kathy aren't home," the girl said. "Grocery shopping. But you're welcome to come inside and wait; it's awfully hot out here, and I'm sure you folks had a long drive and would appreciate something to drink." She led them onto the porch of the farmhouse and through the front door. Brennan stiffened beside him when they entered the house. She seemed a bit uneasy.
The girl sat them down in the living room and retreated to the kitchen to get them some water. "You alright Bones?" Booth asked his partner.
"Yes, this place is just...it's kind of familiar."
"Strange. So, what's your name, kid?" Booth asked, raising his voice so the girl could hear him.
"Lily," she called back. "Lily Juarez."
"You're not from around here, are you Lily?" Booth asked.
"Nope," she replied, joining them again with two glasses of lemonade. She set them on the coffee table in front of them and sat sown opposite them in an armchair. "My family came to the states from Mexico illegally. We'd been here for two years when one of the guys at my Papi's work decided to recheck his paper work. We were found out, and the rest of my family was deported. They kept me, though, 'cause I was born here. I've been in the system since I was two. And I've been in this place so long, I guess you could say the whole 'southern hospitality' thing has grown on me. Why aren't you asking about Josh?"
"You knew him?" Brennan asked her.
"Yeah, we lived here together before he disappeared. Amanda and Tommy don't though; they only got here two months ago. I thought you wanted to know about Josh?"
"We do, but we can't technically talk to you about him without a parent or guardian present. Amanda and Tommy - who are they?" Booth asked.
"Amanda and Tommy Kaelin, thirteen and seven. They came here from Abingdon, two months ago, like I said...Hey, you said your name was Dr. Brennan, right?" Lily asked, looking at Brennan.
"Oh, I didn't, Booth did." Lily laughed at her response. "Why?"
"Well, since we're basically just killing time here 'till Dave and Kathy get home, I have something I wanna show you. Follow me." Lily stood and left the living room, leaving Booth and Brennan to go with her to a narrow hall between the staircase and the wall of the kitchen. There was a long, thin table against the kitchen wall that was covered in framed photographs
"Is this about Joshua? Because if it is-" Booth began.
"It's not. When I first saw this table and asked about the photos, Kathy told me that she and Dave always make sure to get a picture of every foster kid that comes through here, at least one. They've been taking in kids since they were in their twenties, when they found out Kathy couldn't bear children, so there's more than thirty years worth of pictures here," Lily explained.
Booth picked up a picture at the end of the table. "This is you and Joshua," he said.
"Yeah. We were close, you know, foster kids gotta stick together." She reached around to the back of the table and picked up a picture in a small blue frame. "This was why you looked familiar to me. That's you, isn't it?" She handed the picture to Brennan after addressing her.
In the photograph was a lanky teenage girl with limp, wet brown hair. The girl was was stiff, standing stick straight in a bathing suit. A version of Dave Emerson that looked twenty years younger had his arm around her shoulder. He was in swimming trunks, and behind them was a swimming hole.
What really caught Booth about the picture was the girl's face. Her expression was a look of fear, but beyond that, she looked like a teenage Brennan. She was a teenage Brennan.
Booth looked up at his fiancee. Her eyes were locked on the photo. She slowly raised her gaze to meet Booth's.
"Now I know why those names and this place are all so familiar, Booth. I lived here for six months almost twenty years ago. David and Kathy Emerson were my foster parents when I was seventeen."
Author's Note: Cliffie, I know, you must hate me. But at least you're interested, right? There's more to come, hopefully soon. Review plz?