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I definitely don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Marsha Spell was resting on a lawn chair near the door of her RV after a grueling afternoon. Her crew made up of two cousins and her sister were finished for the day and were contemplating going out to eat. Her gaze roaming the nearby tents and her competition inside, she spotted a handsome man making his way over towards her tent. Sipping her cold beer, she waited for him to come closer, it was just too warm to go to him and she was happy where she was.

As Booth stepped under the open sided tent, he smiled at Marsha while Brennan who was following closely behind him kept her face schooled, an unemotional mask.

His hands on his hips, Booth looked around and then returned his gaze back towards Marsha. "Hi, my name is Buck." Turning slightly, he smiled at Brennan then once more moved his gaze back towards Marsha. "This here is my wife, Wanda. We're helping Joe and Carla Richard and we thought we'd come by and say hello."

Her interest solely on Booth, Marsha stood up and as she moved closer offered her hand. "Well, nice to meet you Buck. It's always nice to see new faces especially faces like yours."

Booth shook her hand and then released it with a flirty squeeze. He was used to women hitting on him and he thought a little flirting back might get him the information he needed. "So you been doing the barbeque circuit long? This is our first time doing this, it seems fun so far."

Her gaze sweeping over his body, Marsha moved over to her team's beer cooler and opened it. "Would you like a beer? We have Coors and Corona."

Slowly shaking his head, Booth glanced at Brennan and then back at the beautiful woman who was shamelessly flirting with him. "No thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I'm not thirsty right now."

Chuckling, Marsha sat back down. "Well, if you change your mind . . . . Maybe you can join us for dinner. We were thinking of going over to the Texas Roadhouse for dinner." Her gaze flicking towards Brennan, Marsha shrugged her shoulders. "You can bring Wanda as a chaperone."

Again Booth shook his head. "Thanks but me and Wanda are going to eat at our hotel tonight . . . say I'm looking for Jason Wu. My brother-in-law met him at the Houston cook-off last year and . . . " Turning, he looked past Brennan and saw Aubrey standing outside the tent playing his part as the bashful relative. "We wanted to say hey to him. Joe thought you might know where he is."

Her face falling, Marsha scowled and folded her arms across her breasts. "I don't know where he is and I don't care. We were dating last year and then he just disappeared. No calls, he stopped updating his Facebook page and he stopped using Twitter. I don't know what his problem is, but we're through. I don't appreciate someone treating me like that and to get all shitty and stop using Facebook and Twitter just to avoid me is just uncalled for. Jason is a poor excuse for a man as far as I'm concerned and if he was here I'd tell him off to his face."

Her venom making her face red, Booth knew she was a woman scorned and pissed because of it. "So you haven't heard from him since Houston?"

Shaking her head, Marsha stood up, opened the cooler and retrieved another beer. Cracking the top, she turned to face Booth. "No I haven't. If you see him, you tell him that he'd better stay away from me if he knows what's good for him."

Brennan thought that was good time to add to the conversation. "No one has seen him since Houston . . . including his mother."

Surprised, Booth turned to look at Brennan and then back Marsha. "Yeah, Pete Anderson told us it looks like Jason just didn't come back home from the cook-off and his mother is worried."

As she was done with Jason Wu, Marsha didn't think she cared. "Well maybe you should talk to Jim Riley. Jason was flirting shamelessly with his wife and it didn't just make me angry. Jim was pretty angry too. Maybe he put the fear of God in Jason and Jason moved to the other side of the country. Jim is from Monroe which isn't that far from Shreveport. Jim's a nice guy, but no one with sense tries to fool around with another man's wife."

Done with his interview for now, Booth touched the brim of his hat and assured her. "I will, thanks." Turning he placed his arm around Brennan's shoulders. "Well Wanda . . . James . . . It looks like Jason Wu isn't here. Maybe he's going to skip this competition after all."

Aubrey kept his eyes on Marsha and gave her a once over which she returned in kind. "Well, that's okay." Stepping under the tent, the younger agent smiled at Marsha. "So . . . you have room for me in your dinner party? I'm new in town and this Texas Roadhouse you're talking about sounds interesting."

Her interest now on Aubrey, Marsha stood up and glanced at her sister with a sly smile before turning back to face the handsome man. "Of course, James. The more the merrier."

As he walked away, Booth punched Aubrey lightly in the shoulder. "See you later man."

Oooooooooooooooo

As they walked back to Joe's tent, Brennan placed her arm around Booth's waist. "The social dynamics involved in this case are quite fascinating, Booth. Marsha is clearly an alpha-female and is not used to being rejected. Because Jason Wu hasn't contacted her, she has assumed she had been dumped and she is quite angry about it. I'm sure she isn't used to rejection and her emotions seem authentic to me. She does seem a little conceited though. She actually thinks Jason stopped using social media to avoid her. That's fascinating."

"I'll bet." As they slowly moved down the open aisle between the cook-off teams, Booth glanced at each one of the groups of people under their canopy tents and gave a friendly smile whenever anyone looked at him. "She has a violent temper and she doesn't like rejection. She says she hasn't heard from Jason, but we just have her word for it so far. Hopefully Aubrey will find out more while he's at dinner with her tonight. I think I'll have Angela check on her whereabouts when Gary Morgan and Price Thompson went missing. She interests me and right now, I consider her our primary suspect . . . we need to talk to Jim Riley as soon as we can . . . damn too many James to suit me . . . Jim Riley, James Aubrey . . . must have been a popular name once upon a time."

Her thoughts on evidence, Brennan finally spoke. "I hope Hodgins is successful and finds something we can use to pinpoint who the murderer is. We need evidence and so far we are failing in that department."

Before they reached Joe's tent. Booth stopped and faced Brennan. "Hey, this is early days yet. If we don't get anything here, we'll try something else. I want to stop whatever is going on and we aren't going to give up." Lowering his voice, Booth pulled her closer towards him. "Someone thinks no one is looking for them, but we are. You and me are going to catch this son-of-a-bitch whoever he or she is."

Proud of Booth and his skills as an investigator, Brennan kissed him. "Yes, it is early days and we have many avenues we can explore."

Pulling her against him, Booth stared into her crisp blue eyes. "You know, I think I have an avenue of exploration I'd like to try with you tonight . . . if you get my drift."

Amused, Brennan patted his behind. "I've been with you long enough to know exactly what you wish to explore, Booth."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Booth appreciated the coolness of their air-conditioned hotel room. Sitting on the bed watching a game he'd found on TV, he sipped from a bottle of water and tried to relax.

Fresh from her shower, Brennan entered the room in a pair of knit shorts and a t-shirt. "I wonder how long Aubrey will be. We're supposed to be at Joe's tent tomorrow morning at seven and we should go to bed soon."

Distracted from his game, Booth beckoned for her to come sit beside him. "He'll get here when he gets here. He's probably still eating. God knows why that guy is still skinny. It's weird . . ." Interrupted by the sound of a knock on the hotel room door, Booth slid off the bed and held up his hand. "I'll get it."

Used to Booth's tendency to protect her even from the mundane like a knock on the door, Brennan moved over to the table in the corner of the room and sat down. Removing her phone from its charger, she checked to see if there were any emails from Angela or Hodgins.

Opening the door, Booth found Aubrey in the hallway. "I figured you were still eating considering how starved you looked this afternoon."

"Ha Ha," Entering the room, Aubrey noticed Brennan. "Hey Dr. B." Turning to face Booth, Aubrey smirked. "Want me to give you a rundown of my evening or do you want to give me a few more shots."

Barely able to keep from laughing, Booth pointed towards the table and the remaining chair. "Have a seat." Sitting on the bed, Booth turned the television off and faced Aubrey. "So did you enjoy your dinner?"

Patting his stomach, the younger agent grinned. "I sure did. I've never eaten at one of those restaurants, so I googled and found out there are three not far from my house, so I have found my new favorite restaurant. They're all within 28 miles from where I live."

"I'm happy for you." A little impatient, Booth glanced at the clock on the night stand. "Tick tock . . . what did you find out?"

Before he could answer, Brennan placed her phone down. "Hodgins found a palm print in the truck that didn't belong to the police or Jason Wu's mother. It was on the edge of the front passenger seat and he found a finger print on the control for the seat adjustment for the passenger seat. He sent them to Angela and she's running them through as many databases as she can. It might be tomorrow morning before she has anything for us. It will depend upon whether the finger print or the palm print are in any of the databases she has access to."

Pleased to hear it, Booth clapped his hands together. "Alright . . . let's just hope they don't belong to a mechanic that worked on the car in the past."

After hearing the news, Aubrey checked his phone for emails and not seeing anything urgent, placed his phone in his shirt pocket. "I don't think Marsha Spell killed Jason Wu or anyone else. She's a very self-centered lady and when someone does her wrong, she cuts them out of her life completely. As far as she's concerned, they don't exist . . . she said she learned that lesson the hard way when she broke up with her high school boyfriend and broke his arm when he demanded he take her back. She said her mistake was listening to him. Now when she breaks up with her boyfriends, she severs all ties . . . I learned that tidbit when I asked her what she would do if Jason Wu showed up and asked for her take her back. She has a bad temper, but her cousins and her sister say that she's learned to control it. Her sister says she hardly hits anyone any more . . . she was serious when she said it too."

"Well, until I find someone better she's still my number one suspect." His phone ringing, Booth reached for it on the end table. "She was at the same competitions as the other missing . . . Booth . . . oh hey Christine, how's my pumpkin . . . oh no really . . . well you tell Hank that painting your dolls orange is not acceptable . . . hold on and let me talk to him . . . tell him Christine, don't shout in the phone, you're going to make me deaf doing that someday . . . yeah, I love you too . . . Hank what did I tell you about messing around with your sister's dolls . . . I don't care if they are a fan of the Flyers, you can't paint their faces orange . . . I mean it Hank . . . Yeah, you can talk to your Mom." Handing the phone to Brennan, Booth laughed. "Your son wants a lawyer."

Amused, Brennan laughed and took the phone from her husband. "Yes Hank . . . no that is indefensible, how would you like it if I painted your stuffed tiger bright purple or yellow? . . . I didn't think so . . . yes, you must apologize to your sister and . . . yes Hank I love you . . . there is no need to cry . . . yes your Daddy loves you too. Yes, good night, Hank. I love you."

After the call ended, Brennan shook her head, "This is your fault Booth."

Shocked, Booth held his hand against his chest. "Me? How is this my fault?"

"You love sports and so does he." Handing his phone back to him, Brennan continued. "He wanted Christine's dolls to show Whoseits pride."

Not falling for that one, Booth shook his head. "I didn't teach him to vandalize dolls . . . that's all on him."

Whistling, Aubrey shook his head. "I'm glad I was an only child."

Oooooooooooooooooo

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