Episode 6.5x09 The Dead in the Dawn ~ Written by Rynogeny
Camille Saroyan loved to shop. Shoes were her first weakness, with fashionable dresses and work ensembles a close second. But recently, she'd developed another obsession, which was why she was in the Everything Babies store in the newly opened Forest Grove Mall at 8:55 PM on a Tuesday when she should have been home with her feet up or better yet, getting said feet massaged by Paul.
She turned over a green onesie that said, 'Here to Rule' and smiled, then regretfully put it back, moving to the next table. They had plenty of newborn and 0-3 months outfits. If she was going to indulge herself, it should be in the next size up. Apart from unsolicited advice about labor, what she heard most often these days were warnings about how fast the baby would outgrow the newborn wardrobe she'd assembled.
The difficulty was that the bigger the sizes, the more determined the designers were to create gender-specific outfits. She rubbed her belly and frowned at the 'Daddy's little princess' t-shirts. She didn't regret their decision not to know the baby's sex and enjoyed the guessing games they were playing, but it made shopping more challenging. Then again, there was no law that said a little girl couldn't wear a onesie that looked like a tuxedo. Amused by the thought, she chose one instead that said, 'Mom rocks my world' and then spied a green warm-up outfit – pants, shirt, jacket – with a giraffe on the back.
Aware that the clerk was starting to bring the gate down in preparation for closing, Cam headed to the checkout, only making one detour to pick up a tiny pair of jogging shoes that would match the warm-up outfit…and the stuffed lion she spied sitting proudly on the table next to the cash register. Everyone needed a lion, right?
She paid for the purchases and still amused by the lion, was turning to leave when someone out in the center of the mall screamed.
The problem with being a doctor and a former cop is that you never really stopped being either one. Being nearly full-term, she couldn't move as fast as the scream required, but she'd made a point of staying as fit as possible, working in long walks whenever possible, and that served her now as she headed out of the store into the common area of the mall where the scream had originated.
Forest Grove Mall took its name seriously, with a rustic décor of trees, rocks and waterfalls scattered throughout. But the display at the junction closest to Everything Babies was particularly noteworthy. It was huge, rising well over two stories at its highest point, with skylights another fifteen feet above it. At the bottom, large, live trees surrounded a shallow pool fed by water tumbling over rocks.
The whole thing was ringed by a stone ledge that served both as seating and a protective barrier to prevent people from climbing into the display. At the moment, though it appeared that a woman had done just that – a woman who was presumably supposed to do so, based on the 'Greenery By Greene' lettering on her t-shirt and the gardening paraphernalia at her feet.
Cam was certain she was the screamer, although now she was mostly squeaking and stuttering as she pointed to something on the ground of the display to a man who, based on his uniform and the tools on his belt, appeared to be mall security. Due to the late hour, only fifteen people or so – mostly mall employees, by the look of it - had gathered in front of the display by the time Cam arrived.
Grateful for the step the florist had placed there that allowed her to get closer to the gardener and the guard, Cam stepped up onto the ledge and addressed them. "I'm Dr. Camille Saroyan. Can I be of assistance?"
The guard looked up what from what he was staring at, and shook his head. "Think it's too late for you, Doc."
Cam looked down and saw a partially buried trash bag in the dirt between the foot of the largest tree and the pool. She knew what she was going to see even before the guard pulled back the plastic and revealed the bloody face of an obviously dead man. She sighed, and reached for her phone. "No, it's pretty much my area of specialty."
B&B
Two local cops stood guard at the door of the mall, and Booth flashed his badge at them as he walked in with Brennan and Sweets. "You know, Bones, it really wouldn't have been that far out of the way to take you home. Cam said Sweets might be useful due to the number of witnesses to interview, but the body's got too much flesh for you to really do your thing."
Brennan cocked her head. "Since we were already together, there was no point in you taking me back to my apartment. And the fact that bones are my area doesn't mean I will be unable to contribute anything to the crime scene investigation. Besides, I enjoy working with you," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
In response, Booth smiled, and ran a hand down her back.
"Whoa," Sweets interjected. "That is …a mountain in the middle of the mall."
They looked up, and Booth was forced to agree. The grouping of rocks, water and trees was enormous. "Apparently someone thinks shoppers in DC fantasize about buying shoes in the middle of a national park." He shook his head and focused on the group at the base of the display. Cam was talking to two men, one in a suit, one a security guard, while another guard spoke to seven people, four of whom appeared to be mall employees. The fifth was a gardener of some kind and the other two were probably shoppers, based on the bags at their feet.
Then movement caught Booth's eye and he realized Hodgins was in the display, next to the pool, taking samples of dirt. "Hail, hail, the gang's all here," he muttered.
Only they weren't. Angela's last day had been the Friday before.
Cam saw them and motioned them over. "Mr. Keller, Mr. Baxter, this is the rest of our team – Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian, Special Agent Seeley Booth and Dr. Lance Sweets of the FBI," she said, indicating them. "Adam Keller is the mall administrator, Rick Baxter owns the company that handles the mall security."
Booth acknowledged the men and looked at Cam. "So, what do we have?"
"Body buried between the pond and the tree, about six inches deep, wrapped in trash bags and duct tape."
"Six inches, huh? How much dirt is there?"
"Several feet. Hodgins says what's there is intended to provide adequate ground support for the trees."
"What condition is the body in? You told Booth it's still pretty intact?" Brennan asked.
Cam nodded. "Caucasian male, mid-30's from what I could tell at the moment. There's a significant amount of blood on the face, but no obvious injury to the head or upper torso to give COD. It's possible he died of natural causes and someone panicked."
Keller interrupted. "I know the death takes priority, but will I be able to open the mall tomorrow?"
"Since the body didn't get there on its own, it's a crime scene, Mr. Keller," Booth replied. "We'll do what we can to get you your mall back as soon as possible."
Obviously unhappy, Keller nodded, and Booth asked, "Who found the body?"
"Jenny Mack works for the company that maintains the trees," Cam answered, motioning toward the woman in a "Greenery by Greene" shirt. "She discovered the body when she arrived to do whatever it is she does to the plants. She screamed and the other security guard, Paul Fritz, came running."
"And Paul called me," Baxter said.
"Got it." Booth studied the scene for a moment and then looked at Cam. "Is that all the witnesses?"
"The mall was closing. Not many people were around and some who were left before we could lock the place down."
Booth nodded before turning to Sweets. "Bones and I will take Paul and Jenny. You take the rest of them…somewhere," he said, looking around. Spying the nearby food court, he pointed. "Maybe over there, and get names and addresses. The shoppers can probably be sprung unless they're here a lot, but the mall employees may have seen something." He turned to Baxter. Giving the guy something harmless to do would keep him out Booth's hair. "If you could help Sweets get that information, I'd appreciate it."
Both men nodded and turned toward the small group of bystanders. Sweets, at least, looked eager to get started.
"I believe it's good for Sweets to be involved," Brennan said softly. "He appears happy to have something to do."
Knowing Sweets was still reeling over finding and burying his mother, Booth said, "That's the idea, Bones."
Cam stretched and sighed. "I'm going to take a break for a bit while all of you do what you're going to do with people and while Hodgins finishes what he's doing with dirt."
She did look tired, and who could blame her? "Sounds like a plan," Booth said, as he motioned Brennan over to where Jenny Mack and Paul Fritz now stood by themselves. Jenny was a young black woman in her early 20's, he judged, and still looked shaken. Paul Fritz was older, though not by much. Around 30, Booth judged but he looked …off, somehow. "Ms. Mack? Mr. Fritz? I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth and this is my partner, Dr. Brennan. We'd like to ask you a few questions."
Jenny nodded. "I don't know what I can tell you, though," she said. "He's dead, and he definitely shouldn't be where he is."
She sounded so certain on that point Booth nearly smiled. "No, he shouldn't be there. How often do you do maintenance on the plants?"
"Three times a week. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday."
"You were here, treating that tree, on Saturday?" Brennan asked.
"Yes. I check the moisture in the soil, add fertilizer if necessary, and look at the overall health of the plants. There was no dead body there on Saturday."
Booth and Brennan exchanged glances and he looked back at Jenny. "That's actually very helpful," he said. "So what happened this evening?"
"I could tell the soil had been disturbed, but thought at first that some kids had gotten up there. They do, you know – they get away from their parents and climb over the barrier. I sat my gear down, and knelt to smooth out the soil and realized it felt wrong. It felt lumpy somehow. Then I saw the plastic bag." Calming down as she talked about it, she rolled her eyes. "For a moment, I thought someone had buried something silly, you know? Kids hiding treasure for a scavenger hunt or something. But I pulled enough of the bag away to see, and…" her voiced faded and she shuddered.
Booth looked at Paul Fritz and watched as the man brought his hand up to rub eyes that were bloodshot. He motioned to toward the doors. "I was over there, at the south entrance where you all came in, locking all but one set of doors, when Miss Mack screamed. I came over, pulled back enough of the bag to confirm what she'd found, and then your Dr. Saroyan showed up. Per procedures, I called my boss and Mr. Keller."
"Do you feel okay, Mr. Fritz?" Brennan asked.
He shook his head tiredly. "Bad headache. Might be my sinuses acting up – that's caused my nose to bleed before." His voice slurred a bit, and Booth saw with alarm that his nose was, indeed, bleeding, and that there was blood beginning to seep from around his eyes, as well.
"Mr. Fritz?"
The guard staggered and Booth reached for him even as Brennan said, 'No! Don't touch him!" and tried to bump Booth out of the way.
"What the hell, Bones?" Confused and annoyed, he brushed her away, catching Fritz and lowering him to the ground.
"That's no ordinary nose bleed," Brennan snapped. "Don't touch him again." She reached into her bag, pulled out lab gloves and put them on, her gaze focused on the man Booth was kneeling next to. She bent, placed her fingers on his throat, then repositioned them with her expression growing increasingly grim.
"Bones?"
"Go wash your hands, Booth. Thoroughly. Do it now."
"What is it? What's going on?" He'd forgotten Jenny, who was backing away slowly from them. Her eyes, too, were on Fritz, and he was pretty sure she was thinking of screaming again.
He stood, torn between wanting to obey Brennan and the desire to reassure the young woman. "He's ill. Why don't you go join the others in the food court. We'll come update you there."
"He's not ill, Booth."
"Bones." He looked at her, silently begged her not to cause a panic and was relieved when she slowly nodded.
With a look at both of them that told him Jenny understood perfectly what was going on but was willing to be lied to, the young woman bolted in the direction of the food court where Sweets had taken the others.
Booth watched the other woman walk and then turned back to Brennan, doubting himself. "Should we have kept her over here?"
Brennan shook her head. "If it's a contagious infection, she shouldn't be in any more danger than anyone else. She didn't touch him," she added pointedly.
He looked over to see Hodgins assisting Cam back over the barrier and into the crime scene. "I'll go wash my hands. You go let Cam and Keller know there's a complication."
"Booth."
He turned to leave when her voice stopped him. She was staring at the crime scene, a frown on her face. "What, Bones?"
"Cam said there's a lot of unexplained blood on the face of the murder victim." She looked at him, and he saw worry now, if not fear. She glanced down at the bloody face of Paul Fritz, and back up. "This may not be a coincidence. What if we're dealing with a viral hemorrhagic fever?"
Booth stared at her for one frozen moment and then turned to run toward the crime scene with Brennan right behind him. "Cam! Hodgins!"
Sweets had suspected something else had happened when Jenny Mack came to join them. She'd said only that 'the FBI guy sent me' but her manner was even more on edge than when he'd seen her earlier. But she hadn't volunteered any information, and he'd not asked. Instead, he had continuing questioning the witnesses while the congenial Baxter wrote down contact information.
When Booth walked into the area of the food court where they'd set up camp, Sweets knew for certain something else was going on. Something worse than murder. The agent was completely shut down, his eyes flat.
"Sweets, Baxter," he acknowledged them and turned to the people in front of him. "Folks, we have a bit of a situation here."
"Is that what you call a dead body?" a kid who worked for the taco place in the food court asked with a smirk. Sweets had already realized he thought himself hilarious.
Booth stared at him until he subsided. "We're not sure what we're dealing with, but there's a remote possibility of contagion. Until we can eliminate it, we are all quarantined here."
"What?" One of the shoppers jumped to her feet. "I didn't see anything, didn't talk to anyone. You can't keep me here against my will."
Sweets glanced at his notes, pretty sure the woman's name was Beth.
Several of the others were standing, saying similar things, and Booth moved to block their most obvious exit – displaying his firearm as he did so. "Yes," he said. "I can."
"Since when does the FBI have the right to call for a quarantine?" A heavyset man who was the manager of a shoe store demanded. "I thought only the health department or CDC could do that."
"The chief pathologist of the Jeffersonian Institute is out there. Trust me. They listen to her," Booth snapped. He looked over the entire group, "We're under quarantine until we know exactly what the victim died of. We have the full support of the health department and the police. We will find out what's going on, but need for you all to sit tight."
"You can't keep me here. I need to get home to my kids," Beth said, and made another move to leave.
Booth blocked her again. "Anyone trying to break quarantine will be arrested and locked in an office," he said flatly. "And that's if I'm dealing with you. The cops guarding the exits may simply shoot you."
"Shit. It's that bad?" They'd all blanched at Booth's final comment, and the kid from the taco joint was finally completely serious.
"No," Booth said. "That's the point. We don't know what it is, but are going to err on the side of caution. No one leaves." Perhaps because they'd all settled down, in shock Sweets thought, Booth's tone eased, just a bit. "Three of the finest scientists in the world are out there. They want to go home, too. They're going to find out what's going on. We'll keep you in the loop." He waited a beat and then motioned for Sweets to follow him away from the group,
"The other guard dropped dead of a very bloody nose," Booth said without preamble. "Given the blood on the buried victim and – so far – the lack of a cause of death, Cam's afraid we're dealing with something contagious, so she called the quarantine. The health department's been notified."
"The mall cop is dead?" It took a moment to process it. "If he got it from the body, that's very fast acting."
"Impossibly so, or so Cam says," Booth agreed. "But there's simply too much we don't know to risk it."
Sweets' mind was completely blank, he knew there were things he should be doing. But at that moment, nothing came to mind. Claudia was the one with the dangerous job, not him. He gave himself a quick shake and looked at Booth. "What do you need me to do?"
Obviously pleased with the question, Booth said, "I need you to baby-sit this group," and nodded toward the food court, "and since we're still investigating a crime, let me know if any of them does anything off."
"Is it possible the mall cop was the one who hid the body?"
"Yeah, and we're looking into that. What's your take on his boss?"
"Baxter? He's solid. He's been helpful with the civilians, but not overbearing."
"Good. He can help you keep an eye on them. But for now, send him out. I want to find out what he knows about Fritz."
"Will do." His phone rang, and Sweets pulled it out, looked at the display. "It's Claudia."
"Tell her she might as well head to the Hoover," Booth said as Sweets prepared to answer. "I'm going to need her there."
Sweets nodded and turned away to talk to his girlfriend in private.
"Agent Booth?"
Booth turned and saw Jenny Mack standing there, "Yes?"
"I didn't tell anyone what happened to the guard, but…" she visibly tried to steady herself. "If he died of what the dead guy died of, am I going to die, too?"
"Do you feel okay?" Booth asked.
"Yes."
"That's good, then." In the distance, he could see Cam sitting on the ledge of the mountain, talking on the phone. "Give us a few minutes, and we'll see what Dr. Saroyan says."
"He touched the body, and I didn't. That's good, isn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I was wearing heavy gardening gloves when I pulled back the trash bag, but I think Mr. Fritz actually touched the dead guy." She shuddered.
"We'll ask Dr. Saroyan," Booth said again. "But yeah, I'd think that would be a good thing."
"Should I like, try not to breathe on anyone?"
Booth couldn't help but admire how hard the young woman was trying to keep it together. "It can't hurt," he finally said, and hoped he was telling the truth. "We'll let you know what we find out."
Sweets turned back to them, shoving his phone in his pocket. He appeared to struggle for a moment, then got his bearings and looked at Booth. "She's on her way to the Hoover."
"Good. Go ahead and send Baxter out to us." To Jenny, he said, "I'll come get you or send Dr. Saroyan over in a bit."
She nodded, and Sweets said to her, "Come back with me, and we'll start dealing with the paperwork. You wouldn't believe how much information's necessary when you find a body." He added an eye roll for effect. "It's worse than doing taxes." He glanced at Booth before steering Jenny back toward the food court.
B&B
Booth watched them go and then began walking back toward what he was coming to think of as 'the mountain.' As he did, he saw Brennan coming toward him, and slowed.
They met midway between the food court and the mountain, in another grove of trees. She looked tired and worried, and he reached out, ran his hand down her arm to link their fingers for a moment. "How are you doing?"
"Cam called Paul and Hodgins called Angela."
"And?"
Her fingers tightened on his, and she leaned over, rested her head on his shoulder for a moment before looking back at him. "If we're dealing with a viral hemorrhagic fever, how likely any of us are to develop symptoms, let alone die from them, varies tremendously depending on the specific virus and our general health. But Cam's baby…"
She faltered and Booth closed his eyes while resting his cheek on her head. "And Cam was not only close to the victim but had an extended conversation with Paul Fritz. Damn it."
Brennan took a breath, stepped back, and let go of his hand. "We still don't know there's a connection, Booth. We don't know for certain that there's not another explanation for the blood on the victim. And Fritz told Cam he didn't know the victim, so unless he was lying, it's possible there's no contagion at all."
"You don't drop dead of a nose bleed, Bones."
"No, but that doesn't mean we're at risk from what he died of."
"Right." He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. He was getting one hell of a tension headache. "So what's next?"
"Cam wants to move Paul Fritz into the freezer of one of the restaurants while we assess the victim."
"I hear a 'but' there."
"Mr. Keller isn't being cooperative."
"That's a shock." But that was something he could address. Booth turned, started toward the mountain.
Brennan fell into step with him. "Also, Hodgins is now in a bad mood."
Booth looked at her, raised an eyebrow. "Only now?"
"He argued with Angela, because she wanted to come here, be quarantined with us. They were very loud," she added.
"He told her no, didn't he?"
"As did Cam. Angela got louder at that point, and then hung up." She hesitated. "While I am glad she's not at risk, I understand why she wants to be here."
Booth looked over at her, fiercely wishing she'd been home in her apartment when Cam called him about the body. Knowing what she'd say if he said so, though, he decided against a pointless argument. "I'm glad Ang's not here, not at risk if it is a virus," he finally said.
They were close enough to the others now to see Cam and Hodgins talking, the latter rather animatedly, while Keller paced around nearby, ignoring them, a phone to his ear. Off to the side, Fritz's body was still where he'd fallen, a pool of blood around him. Keller made a point of staying out of sight of the body, and Booth had to admit he couldn't blame him for that.
They walked up to Cam and Hodgins, and Booth dropped onto the ledge next to Cam and stretched his legs out. She turned to him and he studied her for a moment. There was nothing he could do to put her mind at rest over the baby, so he didn't try. "What do you need?"
Gratitude was there for a moment and then she went all business. "The health department offered to send a team in, in haz mat suits. I told them we'd take the suits – they can leave them in the vestibule between the sets of doors."
"No one working for the health department has as much expertise as we do," Brennan said matter-of-factly, and Cam nodded in agreement.
"But they didn't know how long that would take. There's red tape, apparently," she said dryly.
"So what do we do while we wait?"
"We've got plenty of gloves, and masks, in the kit. Moving the guard to a freezer and getting the victim out where we can try to determine COD would be useful."
"How much will you be able to figure out without your equipment?" Booth asked.
"That depends," Cam responded. "We might at least be able to rule some things out."
"We need to know if they both died of the same thing," Hodgins said. "If they did, we're probably screwed."
Cam's eyes flickered away, and Booth glared at Hodgins. "Right," he said to Cam. "So where's the nearest freezer?"
Hodgins glowered at Keller, still on his phone. "There's a new restaurant being built in the next wing over. He says the freezer's in, powered on, bigger than the ones in the food court, and empty – they're expecting their first shipment of food in the next few days. But he won't open the restaurant for us."
"I can help with that." Baxter's voice was quiet as he walked up. "Fritz would have keys on him to every store in the building."
"Okay, then. We start by putting Fritz in the freezer. How do we do that as a safely as possible?"
"Put two masks on each, and double up on lab gloves. If we can find a tarp or plastic liner of some sort that would be good."
"Shower liners from the home goods store would probably work," Brennan offered.
"So. Home goods store, move the body. Then?"
"And then we need to get the victim out of the planter," Cam said.
"Right." Booth looked at Brennan and Hodgins. "Why don't you two go to the home store with Mr. Baxter and see what they've got that will help us. I'm going to call Turner and have her do a run on Mr. Fritz to see if that gives us anything, and then have a little chat with Keller." He turned back to Cam. "Will you go check on Sweets and the group in the food court? See if you can give them the feeling of being kept in the loop?"
"Without actually doing so, of course." For a moment, humor glinted in her eyes.
"I'm trying to avoid a panic, here." Booth sighed. "And …damn it. By now they've probably all called their families. Next thing we know, the media will be rioting outside the mall."
"Can't be helped, man," Hodgins said. "If you take their phones away, it will be worse."
"I know, but damn it." Booth shook his head and looked back at Cam. "I promised Jenny Mack you'd talk to her in particular."
"I can do that," Cam said.
B&B
Booth watched the others head off and then called Turner.
"You at the Hoover, Turner?"
"Yes, sir. Lance told me what happened."
"Good. I need you to do a run on Paul Fritz. He is – was - a security guard for a company called Securtec."
"Got it. Agent Booth?"
She hesitated, and he said, "Spit it out, Turner."
"I'm a little confused. Lance made it sound like the quarantine is routine, but that doesn't make much sense to me."
Booth rubbed his eyes. Everyone he worked with but Cam was involved with someone else they worked with, including himself and it got damned messy at times. "Quarantine's never routine, but this is more of a 'just in case,' decision." He hoped. "The victim's got blood on him that might be a hemorrhage, because nothing else seems to account for it, and then Fritz literally dropped dead of what appeared to be the same kind of thing. That's too much of coincidence to be ignored."
"I see. That does sound a little more serious than how Lance described it." Her voice was subdued.
"He probably didn't want to worry you. But so far, everyone's fine."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, Agent Booth. I'll call you after I finish the run."
"That'll work. Oh, and Turner? If it helps, Sweets didn't have any contact with the victim or with Fritz."
"That only helps where Lance is concerned, sir," she said quietly.
"Yeah, I know." Booth clicked off the phone and went to talk to Keller. The man was still on his phone and appeared to be talking to someone at the company that owned the mall.
"Look…I can't do anything about this," he was saying. "I understand keeping the mall in business is my job, but the FBI says we'll be closed until they know what happened. No, they don't seem to be interested in what's at stake!"
Idly, Booth wondered what the chances were of the mall being owned by Cantilever but then decided that would make his life too easy. He stepped in front of Keller and motioned for him to finish the call. He'd give the guy ten seconds to wrap the conversation before he simply took the phone away.
"The FBI wants to talk to me. I'll call you back if he tells me anything useful." He ended the call and looked at Booth irritably. "Well?"
If Keller thought Booth's purpose in standing there was solely to give him information, he was more confused than Booth had thought.
"Apart from security and the plant people, who has access to the mall after hours? Who could be on that mountain without being noticed?"
Keller frowned. "The cleaners are in the mall, though not on the display. I really can't think of anyone else apart from them, the gardener and security."
"Who does the cleaning and when?"
"The major work is done after the mall closes. Garbage in the restaurants and public area is taken out, floors are swept or mopped as necessary. Bathrooms are cleaned. The carpets in the kiddie areas are vacuumed, doors wiped down. Occasional work is done on a rotational basis. But they also have three day maintenance workers to clean up spills, check the bathrooms."
"Right. I'll want the name of the company and all their employees, particularly anyone who's been here in the last 72 hours. What kind of list do you have of mall employees?"
Keller looked at him blankly. "People who work for me?"
"No, the stores," Booth said. "Do you have a record of everyone who works in the mall?"
"No. I have contact lists of managers, in case something happens. You'll need to talk to them to find out who works for them."
"Let's go, then. Where's your office?"
"What?"
"Your office – you have one, right? I need the list of managers."
"Am I allowed to give you that without a warrant?"
Booth stared at him. "Are you trying to be difficult?"
"Um, no. No. I'm just hoping to have a job when the investigation is over."
"Being able to tell your bosses that you cooperated fully in order to get the mall reopened as fast as possible is probably a good way of doing that," he pointed out.
"Right. You're right. My office is this way."
B&B
Cam arrived back at the mountain in time to see Brennan, Hodgins, and Baxter coming toward her, their arms full. "What did you find?"
"Paint tarps, some shower liners, high-grade hand sanitizer, and heavier gloves," Brennan answered. "We can wear them while moving the body, as they're less likely to tear than our gloves."
"Good thinking." Cam looked over at Fritz's body. "Okay, let's go do this."
"No," Hodgins and Brennan said simultaneously. "We'll do it," Hodgins continued, with a glance down at her belly. "Not only should you not be helping to lift him, there's no point in exposing you to his body more than you need to be."
Touched, she rested her hand on the baby, felt her or him kick. She and Paul had a long-running joke where he'd ask whether the baby felt like a boy or girl on any given day. Today was definitely a boy day, though she couldn't have said why. She looked back at her friends. "I don't know if it will matter, but thank you."
"We're going to double layer gloves and masks, and wrap him in a tarp before we even pick him up," Sweets said.
"Will the two you be able to do it by yourselves? He's not a small man."
"I'll help," Baxter said. At their look, he shrugged. "There's no greater danger to me than to you two," he said, "I'm a retired cop. You do what needs to be done, don't you?"
It took longer than Booth had expected it to get the information Keller had on mall employees, though he remained undecided about whether the man was being difficult on purpose or was just really that inept.
When he finally had the lists, he escorted Keller to the food court where he found three of the seven sleeping, two doing something on their phones, one – the kid who thought he was funny – talking to Sweets, and one, the woman who'd demanded to leave, staring off into space.
They all jumped when he came into the area, and started asking questions. Booth held up his hands, waited until silence fell. "Nothing has changed," he said. "We're making progress investigating what's happened and the moment it's determined there's no threat, you'll be allowed to leave."
He motioned for Keller to sit down, then looked over as Sweets stood and came over to him. "Cam came down and gave them an update," he said softly. "She said the quarantine's just a precaution and they calmed down some after that."
Keenly aware they were being observed, Booth nodded. "You need anything?"
"No, we're good. I'm good." He held up his phone. "I got a text from Claudia a few minutes ago. She said she was busy running something for you, but just wanted to check in. That's a good feeling, you know? Having someone do that."
Booth did know and suddenly he wanted to see Brennan.
He headed back toward the mountain, arriving as Brennan, Hodgins, and Baxter lifted a tarp with the victim – still wrapped in trash bags and duct tape – onto a gurney. They were all wearing masks, as was Cam, standing nearby.
He walked up to her, was unsurprised when she handed him a mask. "So now what?" he asked as he slipped it on.
"We're setting up in the women's room." She pointed across the open area to a hall.
"Water, counters, drains. Smart," he said.
"We do what we can. Did you find out anything from Keller?"
"He's an inept pain in the ass."
"Nothing new, then."
"No. I'll update everyone all at once, but no, nothing new."
The bathroom was large and had not only a flat counter that Cam guessed was meant as diaper changing area, but also some comfortable chairs. "If I'd known these were here, I'd have been here hours ago," she said with a sigh as she settled into one. "The bathroom I've been using is much more utilitarian."
"It's still not especially well-lit," Brennan said with a frown. "Particularly in the middle of the room – the lights are all above the mirrors."
"It's better than the middle of the mall," Hodgins replied. "For all the good it will do us without a microscope." Then he shrugged and looked at Booth. "Did you learn anything?"
"I got a list of emergency contacts for the stores, as well as the supervisor for the cleaning crew. I spoke to her by phone and she said she'd get a list of everyone who worked the last two nights, but no one reported seeing anything out of the ordinary. They left Sunday evening at 9PM, and last night around 11:30."
"Jenny Mack said she left Saturday evening by 10:00PM," Brennan added. "So assuming the body wasn't buried when people were around, it would have to have been between 10:00PM on Saturday and this morning when the mall opened."
Booth turned to Baxter. "They do security walk-throughs the building at night?"
He shook his head. "They do door checks, and check the cameras, but unless something sets an alarm off, they don't routinely walk through after closing. The stores are responsible for a certain amount of their own security, including making sure customers are out and the gates are locked. My people check the common areas – bathrooms, and the like – and then lock up."
"Where are the cameras placed?" Booth asked, wondering why the hell he hadn't already done so.
Baxter shook his head. "There's not one angled right where we need it to be. I checked. There are two taking long views of the wing, but someone paying attention could bury the body without appearing on camera."
"But this body came into the mall recently, either already in this condition, or alive," Booth said. "We'll scan the footage from the entrances to see if he came in alone or with someone." He exchanged looks with Brennan, Cam, and Hodgins, and knew they were all thinking the same thing. This was Angela's area.
Cam cleared her throat. "Clark is at the lab. If we can get the footage to him, he should be able to figure it out. Angela left instructions for at least the more common tasks we need the Angelatron for. It's the specialized programming we'll have to wait for a replacement for."
"I'm sorry," Baxter said. "It should have dawned on me that footage from the entrances would be useful. So many people go in and out those doors, unless we have a narrow time window, we don't generally find the data helpful."
"We have the best facial recognition software possible," Cam explained. "It will run the footage looking for whatever we tell it to find."
"Or would, if we knew how to work it," Booth muttered.
With a quiet groan, Cam pushed herself out of the chair. "First things first. We're going to do this as by-the-book as possible, given the circumstances."
Hodgins snorted, and motioned around them. "You mean we'll write our own version of the book, per the usual."
Cam gave him a pointed look over her mask. "We took photos of the crime scene with the digital before we moved him, and we'll take more as we unwrap him. But first, we need to get a photo of the victim's face to send to Clark – and then we'll work on determining cause of death. We don't have to solve the murder here," she reminded them. "Only determine whether there's a risk to the population." She pulled a pair of scissors out of the kit, and said, "let's see what's beneath the plastic."
"If you don't mind, I'll go call the office and have my partner get started on the video footage for you all, and then I'll check in with your young teammate in the food court," Baxter said, backing away, his eyes anywhere but on the scissors Cam was starting to slide through the trash bags.
Brennan watched him go and then looked down as Cam paused to push some of the plastic out of the way. "I like him," she said.
"It's a pity Keller's not as useful." Booth looked down at what Cam had revealed of the victim. "Can you tell anything?"
"Not yet, no. No obvious reason for the blood." Cam used a small penlight to peer at the victim's face, paying particular attention to his nose. She seemed to falter for a moment, and when she looked up, Booth knew what she was going to say before she said it. "There is evidence of epistaxis, though." Her expression behind her mask was grim.
"Which is?"
"He was bleeding through his nose," Brennan said flatly.
For a moment, they were all silent, absorbing the implications of that. "Damn it." Booth said.
Cam seemed to steady herself and then reached into her bag. "I'm going to clean his face with wipes so we can get a better picture," she said. They were silent while she did so and then stuffed the wipes into a zip lock bag. "Who has the best camera on their phone?"
"Probably me," Hodgins said. "I got a new one just after we got back from Paris." He fished it out and turned the camera on.
Cam pulled out her own phone. "I'll call Clark so he knows what we need him to do." She punched the number in and then laid the phone down so she could resume cutting the bags off the victim.
"Clark Edison."
"Clark, this is Dr. Saroyan. We're going to send you photos of the victim's face and need you to try and match them in the databases."
"I understand."
"These are going to be pretty dark, Clark," Hodgins said. "We may need to try and clean them up some. I might be able to walk you through that."
"You won't need to," another voice said over the phone, and Booth knew he wasn't the only one grinning behind his mask.
"Ang? What are you doing there?" Hodgins asked, staring at Cam's phone.
"You didn't think I'd really leave you all on your own with this, did you?"
"It is very good to know you're there, Angela," Brennan said. "Dr. Edison is quite capable, but you will no doubt be able to do it faster."
"Damn straight, I will."
"Hey, Angela," Booth said. "We'll also be getting you video feed from the mall entrances. We'll be looking for when the victim entered the mall, however that happened."
"Got it. Is everyone feeling okay?"
"So far, so good," Hodgins responded. "But we've still not found a cause of death." He pushed some buttons on his phone. "I just sent three photos to your email, babe. Like I said, they're pretty dark. Malls aren't the best lit places in the world."
"I'll lighten them enough for the search," she said confidently.
Hodgins dropped his phone, picked up Cam's and turned off the speaker before walking outside. They heard him say, "You have no idea how glad I am you're there."
Booth, Cam, and Brennan all looked at one another. "I know it's foolish," Cam said, "but that really does encourage me."
"I know. It's not like she can prevent the spread of a virus," Brennan said, looking at Booth, plainly puzzled by her response. "But knowing she's there makes it easier, somehow."
"We're a team," he said simply. "We know what we're capable of when we're working together."
"I guess it's a good thing I hadn't yet had her access card deactivated," Cam said.
"You think that would have stopped her?" Booth asked.
Before they could respond, Hodgins came back in. "Ang says there's a science store here!"
Booth looked at him blankly. "What?"
"They might have something we can use."
"It's a toy store!"
"Actually, I remember Angela mentioning it after shopping here. She said she was impressed with their merchandise," Brennan said.
Booth thought it unlikely a science store would have anything that would make that much of a difference, but Brennan and Hodgins had done more with less while buried in a car. "Okay, then. Raid on the science store, next on the list," he said. "Let's go find Baxter." He looked at Brennan and Cam, motioned with his own phone. "Call if anything comes up."
B&B
"You take the photos," Brennan said. "I'll cut the plastic and peel it back."
Cam looked at the blood on her gloves. "You know it's unlikely to matter at this point, don't you?" she asked quietly. "If it's one of the more easily spread viruses, I'm as likely to have it as you."
"I see no point in taking unnecessary chances with the most vulnerable of us." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "Not all VHFs are transmitted from human to human, you know."
"No, but then how did two individuals with no known commonality beyond being geographically close both develop it – if it is a virus, and the same one?" Brennan didn't answer – couldn't – and only picked up the scissors as Cam lifted the digital camera. "What's that?" she asked as Brennan cut through the bags and duct tape.
"This?" Brennan pulled out a square of opaque cloth about twenty-five centimeters square. "I don't know. It looks like a sheet of fabric softener."
After the bags were cut apart, Brennan started on his clothes while Cam continued documenting with the camera.
Although most of the blood was around the victim's head, it was still difficult, messy work and Brennan sighed when the task was finished. "There is more than one reason why I prefer working with bones."
"Rigor's never an issue?"
"That one is high on the list at the moment."
B&B
Noise from the corridor had them looking up as Booth and Hodgins came in. "You'll never believe this," Hodgins said, as he settled the box he was carrying on the counter. "They have medical grade microscopes!" At Cam's doubtful look, he added, "Not lab quality, but this one – the best one they had – is intended for med school students."
Cam took a greater interest in it at that point, leaning over to read the side of the box. "It's better than the one I had," she admitted. "How much was it?"
"Six hundred bucks – I left them a note, by the way, assuring them it would be paid for."
"Six hundred dollars?" Cam's eyes above her mask looked affronted. "I paid nearly eight hundred for the one I had!"
Hodgins laughed, and started opening the box. "No accounting for price where technology's concerned."
Brennan looked over at Booth. "What about you? What do you have?"
"High powered light with an attached magnifying glass. Hodgins said it was essential."
"That will be very helpful," Brennan agreed. "Can you get it out of the box?"
As he did, he looked over at the victim. "We've shown you ours, now you show us yours. What did you find?"
"He was wearing jeans, a polo shirt, and loafers," Cam said. "Nothing too expensive or fancy, but not cheap, either. No ID on him."
"But he did have fabric softer sheets on him," Brennan noted.
Booth looked up from pulling the light out of the box. "He got dressed straight from the dryer and one stuck?"
"Dryer sheets," Cam said. "Plural. Lots of them."
Hodgins looked up that. "How many?"
"Forty-two."
"There were forty-two sheets of fabric softer in with the body? What, did someone think wrinkled was a by-product of dead?"
"My guess is that whoever wrapped him up hoped it would mask the smell of decomp," Booth said. "People have tried stupider stuff."
"So…whoever buried him, not clear on the concept," Hodgins said.
"It's probably safe to assume it's not someone who's buried a body before, at least." Booth looked at Cam and Brennan. "Anything to suggest conclusively that it's murder?"
"Not yet," Cam said. "We're just starting to examine the body. That's where your light will come in handy."
He plugged it in, positioned it on the counter, then helped Brennan wheel the gurney close enough to use the long-necked light. "Not that I'm complaining, but exactly why do women need electrical outlets in mall bathrooms?"
On the other side of the room, Hodgins, still unpacking the microscope, gave a choked laugh. "So not going there, man. Just not."
Brennan had stepped over to help Hodgins, but now turned to Booth. "The men's rooms don't have them?"
Cam had pulled the light over and was starting to study the victim. "Hello, people…body here," she said. "Let's see what we can see." She stretched her neck, and sighed. "I'm going to need to take a break in a few minutes."
Hodgins' phone rang, and he glanced at the readout, then said, 'It's Angela," as he pushed a button. "Hey, babe." He listened for a moment and then put the phone on speakerphone.
"How is everyone?" she asked.
"We're all fine so far, Angela," Brennan answered. "Of course, VHFs have a longer incubation period than five hours."
"Of course they do. What was I thinking?" Angela's laugh was rueful. "Anyway…I've got an ID on the victim. He's Allen Trout, a CPA. Age thirty-three. He's got his own business, works from home."
"A CPA, huh?" Booth looked over at the body. "Anything else?"
"He's single - divorced for three years. No kids, no criminal record."
Brennan frowned. "Has he traveled much, Angela?"
"No, not if you mean outside the U.S. No passport on file."
"Can you send me whatever photo is on file, Angela?" Booth asked. "I'll run it past our civilians and see if anyone remembers him."
"On its way. Oh, and the security company provided the mall video feed. I'm starting to run it now. I'll let you know when something pops."
She disconnected, and Booth pulled out his phone, watched until the photo arrived. "I'll be in the food court if anything comes up."
Brennan watched him go and turned back to where Cam was continuing to examine the body. She stood, started to reach around to her back and paused, looking at her gloved hands. On a sigh, she said, "So far, I've got nothing, at least not from eyeballing him. A completely unscientific guess says he's not been dead more than 48 hours, putting it at Sunday or Monday, not Saturday night. But help me turn him over, and we'll make sure he wasn't stabbed in the back."
"If that had happened, there would be more blood around the torso…oh. You're being humorous."
"Trying. Badly, but trying."
As Hodgins left the microscope to assist them, he said, "The scope's ready to go. I thought we'd start with this guy's blood, and then go get a sample from Fritz to compare it to."
Cam nodded. "At the very least, we should be able to confirm from that whether there's a common condition in the blood."
B&B
Turner called while Booth was enroute to the food court and he paused to talk to her, unsurprised that her initial run on Fritz hadn't turned up anything.
"I'm doing a deeper run now, but wanted you to know what the first pass showed. It's all pretty straight-forward, though."
"Yeah, he was a straight-forward guy who dropped dead in a mall," Booth grumbled. "Thanks, Turner. Keep working it. Right now, there's very little else to go on." He stretched his neck, closed his eyes for a moment. "We have the victim's preliminary identity, and that's about it. Oh, on that note…look into getting Allen Trout's phone records. We'll see who he'd been talking to the last few days. Angela should have sent you his information by now."
Everyone but Sweets and Baxter were asleep when he got to the food court, and even Baxter was threatening to fall asleep.. But they all woke up when he started passing the phone around.
Five of them, including Baxter, immediately said they didn't recognize Allen Trout. The woman, Beth, did so without actually looking at the photo, and for a moment, Booth fantasized about arresting her, just to irritate her as badly as she was irritating him.
Instead, he handed the phone to Adam Keller. Keller glanced at the image, hesitated, and said, "That's the dead guy? Yeah, I know him - he's my accountant. But I haven't seen him for a while. I know he comes to the mall sometimes, but I'm usually in the office. I don't see a lot of customers."
"When was the last time you saw or spoke to him?"
Keller frowned. "Six weeks, maybe? He primarily does my taxes."
"So you're not aware of any problems he was having?"
Keller handed the phone back, his lip curled just slightly. "Why would I be? We weren't friends."
Booth let it go, and handed the phone to taco boy. The kid stared at the photo for a moment, then looked up. "I'm pretty sure this is the guy I saw last night. Well, Monday, I guess it was. He was coming in when I was leaving, at about 7PM. I noticed because he sort of staggered when he came through the door and I wondered if he was drunk."
"About 7PM, you say?"
"Maybe a little later. I got off at 7PM, and didn't hang around."
"He was alone?"
"Yeah."
"Which doors?
"The west ones," he said, motioning. "They're closer to the food court."
"Thanks. That's helpful." Booth motioned for Sweets to join him, and started back toward their new base of operation, waiting until they were a distance away before speaking. "You doing okay? Any of them giving you grief?"
"Nah. They've decided I'm a powerless flunkey and don't want to get me in trouble."
Booth snorted. "You are a powerless flunkey. But if you need a break, they seem pretty calm at this point, and Baxter's probably capable of keeping an eye on them."
By unspoken agreement, they stopped and Sweets looked in the direction of the mountain. "Anything new?"
"No. Finding out that Trout walked into the mall on his own last night is the biggest breakthrough so far. That will save Angela some time."
Sweets went still. "Angela?"
"Oh, yeah. Guess that's new. She commandeered the lab, is running things from there."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. Don't shrink it, Sweets. Just be grateful."
"I am. But I'm not surprised."
He wasn't going to ask. "Speaking of…I need to call her, tell her to focus on the video feed after 7PM. Yell if you need anything." With a wave, Booth started back toward the others.
When he walked up, Cam was sitting in one of the 'comfortable' chairs outside the bathroom, her feet resting on the microscope box, her head against the wall.
He was going to slip into the bathroom to see if Brennan and Hodgins were there, when she opened an eye, looked at him.
"Hey."
"Hey, yourself." She sighed, and stretched, and rubbed her belly with one hand, her phone in the other.
"Everything okay?"
"Just needed to sit for a few minutes. I'm missing something in there, something important that I'm not seeing. Damn pregnancy brain," she muttered and looked at him. "You think it's a joke, that pregnant women forget stuff. That it's just from being tired, or distracted, or hormones. But it's not a joke. I think half my brain's on vacation, the other half is constantly going over how much I have to get ready, how much I have to finish before I leave the lab in Brennan's hands in a few weeks, and the timing is just plain lousy."
He wouldn't have touched any of that with a mile-long pole. "Where are Bones and Hodgins?"
"They went to get a sample of blood from Paul Fritz. I'm supposed to be taking an initial look at Trout's blood, but Bump decided I needed to take a break, and then Paul called."
"Bump?"
She smiled. "That's what Paul calls the baby." The smile faltered. "He's so worried, and there's nothing I can say to reassure him."
Without conscious thought, he glanced toward where Brennan was. Thought of Turner and Sweets, Hodgins and Angela. "Relationships aren't easy in the jobs we have."
"You'd know." Her voice was dry, and it was only then he realized what he'd said. Affection and understanding were in her eyes as she laughed softly at his expression but then she took pity on him and changed the topic. "Help me up. I want to take another look at the body."
B&B
Hodgins and Brennan pulled the cart with Fritz's body out to the middle of the restaurant kitchen. His feet and lower legs extended off the end, but they'd had to make do. They'd only had one gurney.
He started taking blood samples while Brennan plugged in their light, but then paused, distracted as she shifted its angle, then did so again. "The light's fine. I can see well enough to collect the samples."
She didn't respond but instead frowned and changed the angle again. Hodgins looked back at the body, but saw nothing he'd not seen before. But he knew that look. "What is it? What do you see?"
"Does he look jaundiced to you?"
Hodgins turned and studied Paul Fritz with his own frown. "Yeah. I guess there is a yellow tint to his skin, beneath the blood."
"We didn't notice it before because the lighting in the mall's not only inadequate, but also fluorescent." She positioned the light just a few inches above Fritz's face and leaned down to take a closer look.
And then, he understood. "Allen Trout isn't jaundiced."
"No. No, he's not." She stepped back. "Let's get the rest of the blood samples and get back to Cam. I need to find Booth. I want to know if Fritz has traveled outside the U.S. recently."
They returned to the women's room to find Cam examining Trout's blood under the microscope. Her expression was frustrated when she looked up. "I don't see any indication of virus, but it's possible this scope simply isn't powerful enough to see it." She turned, stared at the victim again. "But something's off. If he hadn't been buried the way he was, I'd think it was an overdose of an anticoagulant."
"We've got the samples from Fritz," Hodgins said. "Let's see what they look like."
Brennan looked around. "Where's Booth?"
"He's restless. I think he went to check on Sweets." Cam's response was distracted.
Unsurprised that her partner would be experiencing frustration by this point, Brennan went to find him.
B&B
As she left the bathroom, Brennan's phone rang. She looked at the readout and settled in the chair they'd moved to the hall earlier for Cam. "Hi, Angela."
"Hey, Bren. How are things going?"
She was doing better with connecting voice tone to emotion, but even if she hadn't been, she would have known Angela was tired and worried.
"I think Booth would say that we may have caught our first break. Paul Fritz appears jaundiced, Allen Trout does not. Hodgins and Cam are comparing blood samples right now."
"So that would mean they didn't die of the same thing, meaning no virus?"
"It suggests they may not have died of the same thing," Brennan agreed cautiously. "But either of them could still be a victim of a virus."
"Oh."
The discouragement in her friend's voice compelled her to add, "Not all viruses are transmitted human-to-human, Angela. If they both died of the same thing, there would be a higher probability that we're dealing with one that does. If they didn't die of the same thing, we may still be dealing with a contagious virus, but there's a greater chance we're not."
Angela gave an uncertain laugh. "I think when I work that out, it will be pretty much what Jack said."
"I would expect that to be true. Have you discovered anything on the video feeds?"
"I've confirmed that Allen Trout came into the mall via the west entrance at 7:11 PM on Monday. I've been looking at all the feed for all the entrances since that point, but so far I've not seen anything out of the ordinary. I've just reached the point in the feeds from when the mall was closing, though."
"That's when you're more likely to discover something."
"I know. I was just being thorough. Though hoping for someone coming in with 'murderer' stamped on his forehead was probably too optimistic, huh?"
She knew her friend was joking, but also knew her response would be expected. "I doubt very much that we would be so fortunate."
Angela gave a laugh that sounded off and then said, "How is everyone, Brennan? Really?"
Pleased because she understood Angela wasn't asking about their physical condition, she said, "We're fine, Angela. Tired. Frustrated."
"I'm worried about Hodgins. This has all been so rough on him, you know? The Creeps McGee stuff, my stuff, and now this."
"He's fine," Brennan said automatically and then wondered if it were true. Would she know? "Did he tell you about the microscope he found in the science store? He is quite excited by it."
Angela laughed and it sounded more relaxed. "Yeah, he did tell me about that." Then she sobered, "I wasn't sure if he was just trying to sound better than he is, though." Before Brennan could figure out how to respond, she went on. "This is all just wrong. It's still wrong."
"What do you mean?"
"The lab is both my place, and it isn't. Being there takes a toll on me, but apparently, so does not being there. I know I've been busy trying to create a guide to my equipment since giving Cam my resignation, but I feel like I've not really seen you in weeks. I miss you, Brennan. I was missing you before this, and now all of you are there, and I'm here, and I thought being away from the lab was what I needed and…"
She finally ran out of words and Brennan struggled to know what to say in the silence that fell. Unease because Angela wasn't the only one who'd been distracted lately made it harder. "This isn't an ordinary situation, Angela. I don't think you should second-guess your decision based on it. Even if you hadn't left the lab, you'd be unlikely to be in the mall with us."
"I know. But while part of me wants a break from the murder and death and sadness, I think the rest of me needs to be part of what you all are doing, whatever that is. I know that doesn't make sense," she said on a frustrated note. "Never mind. I've got to go. But when this is over, you and I are going to do a girl day," she warned before disconnecting.
B&B
Brennan stared down at the phone for a moment, at a loss, then stood and started toward the food court. She'd thought she was doing better with people, but whatever the right thing to say to Angela had been, she was pretty sure she hadn't said it.
She looked up and saw Booth coming toward her. He was walking slowly, head down, hands in his pockets, and her doubt grew. Would she do any better with knowing what he needed from her than she'd done with Angela?
Then he saw her and stopped. He cocked his head, studying her, and the doubts – about him, at least – faded. They didn't always understand one another immediately. But they never stopped trying.
The met in the trees midway between the mountain and the food court.
"You okay, Bones?"
It had been her intent to ask him what he'd been thinking about when he'd been coming toward her, to ask how he was. But what came out was, "It is my understanding that best friends tell one another things."
Apparently caught off guard, his response was cautious. "Usually."
"Angela is my best friend."
"And…?"
"I haven't told her about us."
He looked down at the phone in her hand, his expression a little incredulous. "You want to do that now?"
"Well, no. Of course not." She frowned.
He tossed his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. "Let's take first things first, okay? Is there anything new with the body?"
"Yes." Relieved to switch to an area easier for her to navigate, she said, "I need to know if Paul Fritz has traveled recently to South America or the central area of the African continent."
He reached for his phone, began dialing even as he looked at her. "You have something."
"Perhaps."
He put the phone on speakerphone and barely let Turner identify herself before he said, "Have you finished the secondary run on Paul Fritz?"
"Some of it, sir. I'm still waiting for a few databases to complete the query."
"Does he have a passport? Has he used it?"
"Yes, sir. That's one of the searches that just completed. He was in Panama last week on vacation."
"Was he with a tour group?" Brennan asked.
"His landing card from when he returned noted he'd been visiting friends, so I don't think so."
"Why does that matter, Bones?"
"He would have been more likely to vaccinated against Yellow Fever if he was traveling with a group."
"Would his doctor know if he was vaccinated?"
"Not if he went to a clinic, but it's worth trying."
"I'll see what I can find out," Claudia said. "I've also got a preliminary phone record for Allen Trout that I'm starting to work."
"Good work, Turner. Let us know what you turn up." Booth clicked off and looked at Brennan. "Yellow Fever?"
"He's jaundiced, Booth. Trout isn't."
"So …Yellow Fever…?"
"It's one of the Arboviruses, and is only transmitted by mosquitoes."
"So humans don't get it from other humans?"
"No. We'd only be in danger if a mosquito bit him, then us."
Booth let out a slow breath. "Not a lot of mosquitoes in DC right now, Bones. But we still don't know what killed Trout."
"Exactly. If I'm correct, and it's worth noting that we have no conclusive proof that Fritz died of Yellow Fever, that doesn't mean Trout didn't die of a contagious virus."
"No, but the question still on the table is who buried him, and why, if he died of natural causes, contagious or not. We need to find him or her, either way."
"Absolutely. Did anyone in the food court recognize the victim?"
"Yeah. He's Keller's accountant."
"Is that significant?"
"Beyond indicating he was hard up for clients? I don't know."
"You don't like Keller."
"He's annoying the hell out of me. But that doesn't make him guilty of anything but being a nuisance."
They turned, started back toward the bathroom. As they drew closer to the mountain, Booth looked up, through the skylights and then at his watch. "Dawn's coming – the sun'll be up soon."
"The night is nearly over," Brennan agreed.
"So what's next? We think Fritz had Yellow Fever, and think Trout didn't. Where does that leave us?"
"Cam and Hodgins were comparing blood samples with the microscope. They won't be able to identify a virus conclusively with it, but how the samples are alike and different from one another is important."
They'd reached the hall leading to the bathroom, and Booth looked up again, in the direction of the skylights, and the lightening sky. "If we don't find something soon, we're going to have to think about food and whatever else is necessary for a longer quarantine." He pulled his mask back on, watched Brennan do the same.
"Did you find anything?" Booth asked as they entered the bathroom. Cam was once more sitting, while Hodgins seemed to be comparing what he was seeing in the microscope with something on his phone.
Cam shook her head. "Nothing conclusive, though the samples are definitely not from the same specimen."
"Of course they're not." He frowned.
"That's good, Booth. She means that they don't look the same, and that even if we can't account for the differences, it's as I was saying before – it's an indicator they didn't die of the same thing, which is important."
"Couldn't have said it better myself," Cam said as she yawned behind her mask. "You two get anything?"
"I think Paul Fritz may have died of Yellow Fever," Brennan said. "Agent Turner confirmed he's just returned from Panama."
Hodgins turned to look at them and Cam sat up straighter. "That's not transmitted human-to-human," she noted, and behind her mask, her eyes gleamed.
Hodgins picked up his phone. "It probably won't do any good in terms of what we can see, but I'll have Clark send me photos of blood infected with the Yellow Fever virus." He walked out.
Cam turned, stared at Trout's body. "We still need to know how he died, though."
Booth's phone rang and he glanced at Brennan and Cam as he answered it. "Hey, Angela."
"I think I might have something. Nothing conclusive, but given the circumstances, suspicious. I'm sending you a couple of screen shots. This guy entered the mall at 8AM Monday morning, wearing a suit. He left, out one of the side doors, not a major entrance, at 4AM Tuesday morning, wearing gym clothes. Grimy ones."
"As in 'he was burying someone' grimy?"
"Exactly like that. The sweatpants are too dark to really tell, but the white t-shirt's streaked with what looks like dirt. He's wearing a jacket, but it's hanging open."
Booth was completely unsurprised by the image that opened on his phone. "It's Keller. Got you, you bastard," he muttered, and passed the phone to Brennan, who held it out so Cam could see it as well.
Before he could comment further, Hodgins came in, followed by Sweets. "Sorry, guys, but I just needed to walk around for a bit," the latter said. "I'm falling asleep, and…whoa, dead body."
Distracted from the image on the phone, Booth looked over at him. "This surprises you?"
"Mask, Sweets," Cam snapped, and tossed him one.
He put it on, then looked apologetically at Booth. "No, I knew he was dead, but most of the bodies they work on don't look so completely like …people." He frowned and bent down so he was at eye level with the end of the gurney, puzzlement apparent. "Does that happen to everyone when they die?"
"What?" Brennan asked.
"The bottoms of his feet are purple. Is that-"
He never got to finish. Pregnant or not, Cam was out of her chair and rounding the gurney to see what Sweets was looking at. "Damn it. I knew there was something bothering me, something I wasn't paying enough attention to. Someone shine the light over here."
Hodgins did, and they all saw what Sweets had noticed. The bottom of Allen Trout's feet were indeed a purplish/blue.
"So what does that mean?" Booth asked.
"Cholesterol embolism," Cam answered. "Sometimes known as purple toe syndrome – though it's not limited to the toes. If it had been, I might have noticed it."
"But what does it mean?" he repeated, hanging onto his patience by a thin thread.
"It's a complication from various anti-coagulant drugs. Blood thinners. It's caused by small amounts of cholesterol breaking free and settling in the blood vessels of the feet. In particular, it's frequently seen with overdoses of Warfarin, a blood thinner."
"So an overdose of blood thinner can look like a virus?"
"Yes, at least in this case, because it can cause hemorrhaging."
"Warfarin's also used as a rodenticide," Hodgins contributed. "And I have to say that given where we found him, it may be more likely he died of rat poisoning than an accidental overdose of a blood thinner."
"Is there a way of knowing conclusively it's rat poisoning?" Booth asked.
"Not here. At the lab, we can check for levels of vitamin-K, and there are certain tests I can run on the liver in autopsy. But the evidence is mounting that neither of these men died of something contagious."
Brennan handed Booth his phone back. "We need to know what Keller was doing here."
"Keller?" Sweets asked.
Booth passed him the phone and brought both the other men up to speed on what Angela had found on the video feed. "I'm going to go have a little chat with him." His glance took in both Sweets and Brennan. "Want to come?"
B&B
Although they were awake, the group in the food court barely stirred this time when Booth, Brennan and Sweets walked in. Definitely time to spring them, Booth thought. He walked over, stood behind Adam Keller and then looked around at the others.
"It's been determined that the victim did not die of a contagious disease," he said. "You can go. We thank you for your cooperation." He looked over at Baxter. "Would you escort them out the west entrance, please, and make sure they get to their vehicles? The police at the door have been notified."
Obviously curious, Baxter nodded, stood, and turned to those who were getting their stuff together and heading toward the exit. Keller started to stand as well, and Booth pushed him back down. "Not you. We need to have another chat."
Keller's mouth opened and closed a few times, then he nodded. But his eyes were darting around nervously in a way that reassured Booth it was going to be a short interview.
With the others on their way out, Booth settled across from Keller. Brennan sat to his right, and Sweets took the seat next across from her. That's right, thought Booth. Surround the little prick.
"I need you to clear up a few things for me, Mr. Keller."
He cleared his throat. "Certainly."
"We know you arrived at the mall Monday morning around 8AM, wearing a suit. Mr. Trout – your accountant - arrived a few minutes after 7PM. Sometime after that, he was buried in the planter. You then left from a side door at 4:05AM. But you were no longer wearing a suit. Please explain that to me."
Sweat beaded on Keller's forehead, and he tugged on his collar. The man was a walking cliché as far as murder suspects went. But clichés were clichés for a reason. "I was working late," he finally said.
Brennan made a noise of disbelief, and Booth couldn't blame her. But this was the guy who'd thought forty-two fabric softener sheets would mask the smell of decomp, after all. "I see. Why did you change clothes? And when?"
"I was cleaning my office. You wouldn't believe how dirty it gets behind the computer."
"Isn't that poor management to have to do that yourself rather than the cleaning crew?"
Keller's mouth worked again before he finally said, "I don't believe so."
Suddenly tired of screwing with him, Booth placed his phone on the table, and leaned forward. "See this phone? I'm waiting for it to ring, waiting for an agent to get back to me with Allen Trout's phone records. What are the chances that some of the calls will be to or from you, Mr. Keller?"
He swallowed. "Uh, we might have spoken."
"More recently than six weeks ago?"
"Possibly," he said. "Probably. Yes."
"Pick one."
"Yes. There will be recent calls to me from his phone."
"So you lied about how long it had been?"
"I made a mistake."
"I see. And will we find your fingerprints on the trash bags and duct tape that Allen Trout was buried in?"
It was a guess and it was always possible Keller would say no. But if Booth were still a betting man, he'd consider it a safe bet that the man who'd gone the fabric softener sheets route probably hadn't been thinking about fingerprints.
Keller stared down at his hands as if they'd betrayed him. "Probably," he acknowledged on a sigh. "Yes." Then he looked up, a curious mix of defeat and anger on his face. "He was going to turn me in," he said. "He wasn't 'comfortable' with some of my financial decisions relevant to the company."
"You were embezzling."
"I wasn't doing what anyone wouldn't do," he sneered. "I wasn't hurting anyone. But he was going to cause me to lose my job."
"If you were embezzling, it would have been more than your job," Brennan observed.
"So what did you do?" Booth asked.
"I slipped rat poison into his drinks."
"How?"
"He invited me to his place so we could 'look at the books.' He was trying to talk me into coming clean. I waited until he was out of the room, then dumped it in his milk and juice." He shrugged.
"You didn't worry about poisoning someone else if they had drank it?"
Keller snorted. "He was a CPA, for God's sake. No one visited him."
"So what happened Monday?"
"The idiot was supposed to die at home. Instead, he showed up here, so sick he could barely walk, and then died, right in my office." He shuddered. "It took me hours to get the blood up off the floor."
"He still wanted you to confess to the embezzling?"
"Yeah. Can you imagine?"
Booth exchanged looks with Sweets and Brennan, saddened by the thought of a man who had died while still trying to get another man to do the right thing. Then he stood. "Adam Keller, you're under arrest."
Cam sighed and leaned back in her chair at Founding Fathers, the sigh threatening to turn into a moan when Paul's hand settled on the back of her neck, began to rub.
They were all exhausted. She'd taken a nap in her office that afternoon while awaiting test results from the autopsies, but she knew that some of the others hadn't. They'd been up for close to 36 hours, and yet, here they were. All knowing they'd sleep better when they finally made it to their beds for having taken the time to unwind – together.
Four couples – well, three couples and whatever Booth and Brennan were – relaxing with the people who understood them best. She liked that Agent Turner had felt comfortable enough to join them. It could have been weird for her, Cam supposed, given Booth was her boss. But the dynamic between them was both respectful and easy.
"So you confirmed the rat poison and Yellow Fever?" Sweets asked.
Cam nodded. "Yes. It really was just a coincidence that the two deaths happened at the same place at nearly the same time."
"The mall is re-opening tomorrow," Hodgins said. "Or at least most of it is. Apparently the restaurant's opening is going to be delayed while they put in a new freezer."
"And you know this because…?" Booth asked.
"I called the science store manager to make arrangements for paying for the microscope and light. He was pretty psyched when I told him the scope was really useful. Said he'd stock more of those, and use the story to sell them."
"Never know when a good microscope will come in handy," Booth said blandly. "Maybe one should be added to the crime scene kit."
"That would make the kit too heavy," Brennan objected. Cam was almost certain she knew Booth was joking and was responding in kind.
Then Brennan turned to Angela, and all hints of humor fled. "How are you, Angela?"
Puzzled, the artist cocked her head. "What do you mean?" Understanding registered, and she smiled. "Oh, you mean about my situation at the Lab." Her glance took in everyone at the table, then her eyes met Cam's. "Cam and I discussed it this afternoon. It seems I need to be a part of what we do nearly as much as I need breaks from it," she admitted. "So Cam suggested I take two days off a month, anytime I need to, to work on my art and just step back from it all."
"The only caveat," Cam added, "is that it can't be during an active murder investigation."
"Actually, it's usually right after one of those cases that I feel most desperate to escape rather than while they're happening."
Brennan took a sip from her wine glass. "That sounds like a logical course of action." She glanced around the table, then back to Angela. "We were all very relieved when we knew you were in the lab."
"Thanks, guys. Even before Hodgins called to tell me about the quarantine, I knew that sitting at home – even painting – while you all were working a case probably wasn't going to work."
They fell quiet for a moment and then Booth lifted his beer. "To us. To all of us."
"To us," they chorused.
What happens in the lab when the team doesn't have a case? What happens when Cam goes into labor? What happens when everyone finds out about Booth and Brennan? What surprising secret do Fischer and Arastoo have in common? All these questions and more are answered next week, in The New Chapter in the Old Story by NatesMama.