A/N: Hope you're all enjoying it. Big hugs to my reviewers!
Chapter 10
Leon Fick's House, Monday at 6:30 pm
Deputy Houser knocked on the door of the old farmhouse. An aging pickup truck sat in the driveway and John had informed the partners that that was Fick's only non-farming vehicle. There was no response to the knocks and this prompted Houser to announce himself.
"Leon, its John Houser. Open up I know you're in there," there was no reply.
"Leon, I have the FBI here. They want to ask you some questions," still no reply was heard.
"That's it. We're coming in," the final announcement was given and then the three entered the home. Houser fanned into the living room while Booth and Brennan took the L-shaped kitchen.
"Bones stay behind me. I don't like that smell," her partner cautioned. She began to object until they rounded around the refrigerator and they saw the kitchen table.
"Houser!" Booth shouted before covering up his nose. Within a few seconds the deputy was there.
"Dear God," John was horrified as he covered his nose with his free hand.
"Is that Leon Fick?" Brennan asked of the rotting corpse. It was obvious that the body had been there since the day before. Some windows in the room were open and between the smell of cow manure and the fresh air blowing in, the decomposition wasn't as noticeable.
"It was," Houser shook his head then walked from the room and reached for his radio.
"This is Nine-Three David; we need backup at Leon Fick's house. Have Doc Wiberg and Sally come too,"
"Copy that Nine-Three David, they're on their way," the dispatcher reported. Within seconds the sound of sirens could be heard.
"Who is Sally?" Booth wondered still trying to keep the smell from invading his nose.
"Our forensics gal. She's her own department," Houser explained as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.
"Good because I left my kit back in the SUV at the station. That and I don't do flesh," Brennan said. The Deputy gave her a look, still trying to figure out how she could stand that close to the body.
"Is there anyone else who lives with Leon?" Booth wanted to know.
"No. His wife passed away about five years ago. They didn't have any kids," Houser told them.
"So whoever killed him knew no one would be checking up on him," the G-man nodded.
"Yeah, he hasn't run this place like a farm since about ten years ago. He and the missus wanted to travel," John filled in as the sirens finally reached their climax and police piled out of their squad cars.
"John, what have we got?" An older gentleman asked. He too seemingly ignored the smell.
"Leon Fick Doc," Houser answered before heading off to meet his fellow officers along with Booth.
"He's been dead a day or two and cause of death would appear to be a gunshot to the face," Brennan filled in.
"And you are?" Doc Wiberg asked.
"Dr. Temperance Brennan," she stuck out her hand and Wiberg gave it a firm shake.
"Such an esteemed lady in this little town? Over Leon?" He wondered.
"My team and I identified Sam Butter's remains on Thursday," she explained as the town's coroner pulled out his gloves and began examining the body.
"That poor boy," the doctor shook his head.
"So what is your assessment?" Brennan pointed to Leon.
"Definitely a shot to the face. The killer used what appears to be buckshot. A shotgun is very messy and very loud," Wiberg puzzled. Someone should have heard the shot especially with the windows open.
"Doctor, I wish to send the body back to the Jeffersonian," the forensic anthropologist said.
"You'll get no argument from me. I prefer my patients to be alive and furry," Wiberg smiled.
"You're a veterinarian?" Brennan asked.
"Usually. I get called in on the very few and far between murders around here. Doctor Bell hasn't done surgery in years; his hands aren't steady enough anymore. A coroner has to be precise. Can't ruin the evidence. I still perform surgery on people's animals when necessary so I was the logical choice," Wiberg explained as some officers brought a gurney over.
"Boys, send Leon to the Jeffersonian as fast as possible," he said.
"Will do Doc," one of the officers nodded.
"I'll have Doctor Bell dig up Leon's medical files so your team can make a positive ID," the veterinarian/coroner told Brennan.
"Excellent, thank you Doctor Wiberg," she smiled.
"You're quite welcome. I wish you luck in your investigation," the older man said before heading back out of the kitchen. Brennan then moved off to find Booth.
"I'm having the body sent to the Jeffersonian. What's going on?" She asked.
"The officers are sweeping the house for the guns Leon owned. Sally is fingerprinting the door. No sign of forced entry but they would have touched the doorknob. Also she's working on the window frames," he explained. Brennan could tell the gears in her partner's head were turning.
"Something is bothering you," she said.
"It doesn't make sense. Who shoots someone over a dead dog? If in fact that is what actually happened. Then to cover up the murder of Sam Butter, he kills the Sheriff? Now our only suspect is dead and someone else is responsible. All we've managed to do is ask more questions and we aren't even sure that Sheriff Boyd's case is related to Sam Butter's case," Booth heaved a sigh. Brennan put her hand on his shoulder. He gave her a slight smile.
"Well the boys have swept the house and only found the hunting rifles. The box that contained the nine mil is empty," Houser came up to them.
"So the gun is missing which could clear or confirm Leon Fick's role in this mess," Booth was getting tired and the case was going nowhere fast. Looking at his watch he realized it was almost eight o'clock. They had an hour and a half ride ahead of them too.
"You guys going to head back to Washington? You've got the body on the way and I can have Sally send the fingerprints to you," the deputy seemed to notice how tired Booth was.
"I just need some coffee. What I also need is to talk to Sheriff Townshend," the G-man said.
"I'll go find him," John nodded and headed off to find his boss. Meanwhile, Booth pulled out his phone and dialed FBI Headquarters.
"Steve, this is Booth. I need you to get all the information you can get on a Sheriff Mark Boyd, a James Donaldson, and a Leon Fick. Take everything you get to the Jeffersonian and hand it to Cam. Bones and I will be there in the morning," the superior field agent told his colleague.
"You got it. Just as an update, no word from North Dakota yet," Steve filled him in.
"Thanks," the conversation ended and Booth found that Sheriff Townshend was standing in front of him.
"Sheriff I'm declaring jurisdiction over the murder of Leon Fick and I need all the evidence sent to the Jeffersonian. I will also be taking all your files on the robbery and subsequent shooting that James Donaldson was involved in and the case files on the murder of Sheriff Mark Boyd," the FBI agent said.
"How exactly do these crimes relate to Sam Butter?" The Sheriff got defensive.
"Because Leon Fick was our major suspect in the murder of Sam. We also believe he is tied to the murder of Sheriff Boyd. That being said, someone just killed Mr. Fick. We'll be taking everything with us when we leave tonight," Booth informed him. The local sheriff wasn't happy about but he had no choice.
"John, help them get what they need," Townshend ordered.
To Be Continued…