"Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish." ~ Chuck Palahniuk
Chapter Seven: Walking the Dog
The next morning, Booth sat in a rarely used conference room away from the hustle and bustle of the bullpen waiting for the team and Gus to arrive to go over the evidence that they had found the night before. He had meant to swing by Charlotte's first thing to apologize to her like he had promised Brennan he would do but he hadn't found the nerve to do that just yet. The truth was he wanted to help Charlotte, of course he did, but he didn't know if it was worth the risk that it brought to his own family. As the door flew open, he was wondering when he became the kind of man who made those distinctions.
He eyed Gus as he slowly moved into the room and took a seat at the opposite end of the table, facing Booth, "They found something?"
Booth nodded slowly with his tongue tucked in his cheek, "Of course they did. They'll explain when they get here. Anything new on your end?"
"No. I keep hoping for proof of life, though. Especially now that it's out there, everyone knows but…" He sighed and rubbed his hand across his forehead.
"If you're here, who's at the house with Charlie?"
"A couple of my guys, she's safe."
Booth watched Brennan arrive with Cam and then looked at Gus, "Good, let's keep it that way."
Hodgins and Angela entered right after Brennan and Cam and took their seats. Hodgins tried to hold back from sneering at Gus by focusing on Booth who was sneering enough for everyone.
"Can we get started? Are we missing anyone?" Gus asked.
"Yeah-" Booth started to explain but was cut off by the door creaking open.
"Sorry, I didn't realize we were meeting all the way down here." Sweets apologized as he rushed in and took the only seat left at the table, the one directly next to Gus. He looked down the table, "Sorry, Booth."
Booth stood and shut the door, "Now, we can start."
Cam stood and spread out the files and x-rays to refer to before and passing out papers to everyone at the table, "Last night, thanks to Dr. Hodgins we found dog hair on both Mr. Robertson's remains and in the front seat of the Town Car, after I ran a few tests I was able to confirm that both hairs were from the same dog. A male, German Shepherd."
Gus looked at Booth, "That holds up in court?"
Booth nodded, "As well as it would if it were human hair. We got you what you wanted – undeniable link between the murder and the abduction. What now?"
"Oh!"
Everyone's attention was suddenly drawn to Brennan, who had picked up the x-rays and was staring at them intently.
"What do you see, Bones?" Booth leaned over, squinting at the x-rays as if he could actually read them.
"Here!" She pointed at the picture of Lou's clavicle and sternum. "See this anomaly?"
Cam moved from her seat to peer over Brennan's shoulder. "Oh…I never even noticed that. It's so small…"
"I almost missed it myself, Cam." Brennan replied. Booth smiled at her response, always insanely proud when his wife showed an uncharacteristic lack of hubris.
"What do you think caused it? Osteoporosis?"
"No, Cam…I think Lou had osteomalacia."
"Ah…that would explain-" Cam stopped suddenly, eyes wide. "Brennan…do you think…"
"I do, Cam. Look at the perimortem bruising on his neck in the autopsy picture." She held it up to Cam, who nodded vigorously. "Someone held him in a very tight choke hold, most probably to restrain him, judging by the location of the bruising." Brennan set the x-ray down and looked at Booth. "I now believe that Lou's death was an accident."
"What?" Gus stood, shocked. "How in the world can you tell that just by looking at the x-rays?"
Brennan sniffed, offended. "You do know who I am, don't you?"
Gus looked around the table, realizing that not one of them seemed to be surprised. "Okay, okay. You're the genius bone lady, I got it. So explain to me how you think Lou was killed by accident."
"Very well." Brennan stood and moved to the head of the table, holding up the x-ray that drew her attention. "Does everyone see this small anomaly on the collarbone? And the way the bones seem to narrow, almost tapering?" Nods around the table were her only response. "Those are both indicators of osteomalacia, a disease that causes soft, weak bones because of the body's inability to absorb calcium, vitamin D and phosphorous. Cam, do you happen to have Lou's medical records there?"
"Right here, Dr. Brennan." Cam flipped them open, knowing exactly what Brennan was looking for. With a nod and a small smile, she looked up. "Your suspicion was correct. Lou suffered from lactose intolerance."
Brennan nodded, then gestured to Sweets to stand. "Which would have caused him to have a lack of vitamin D naturally. Here is what happened, judging by the evidence." She moved Sweets to stand in front of her, and then wrapped her arm around his neck in a restraining hold. "The kidnapper grabbed Lou from behind, most likely because he was putting up an unexpected fight. Now, on a normal, healthy man this would have simply caused him to lose consciousness, but because Lou had weak bones, the hold caused what is known as an atlanto-occipital dislocation, or a dislocation of the head and neck. It's very rare because those bones are normally very strong in an adult male, but with Lou's condition…"
"It was like he was hanged." Booth finished.
"Exactly. And I don't believe it was intentional. Let me show you something else." Brennan picked up the x-ray of Lou's right hand. "See how the proximal, distal and middle phalanges of the fourth finger on the right hand are all broken? Those breaks were caused by the victim bringing his hand down like this," She brought her hand down onto her own thigh, in a stabbing motion. "He tried to attack his attacker. He might have even done some damage, judging by the amount of fracturing in the fingers and hand."
Everyone sat quietly, taking in the information and adjusting their hypotheses accordingly.
"So, if he didn't mean to kill Lou then there's a chance that…" Booth trailed off.
"That you really owe Charlotte that apology now, yes absolutely." Brennan offered her husband a satisfied smile and then explained to the rest of the group, "If he didn't intend to kill Lou than Clay could very well be alive."
Hodgins shook his head with mouth agape, "You told her otherwise? Dude…"
"Drop it. Now." Booth looked at Gus, "What else?"
"I have one more matter that needs to be addressed."Gus stood and stepped out into the hall, bringing back with him a mail crate overflowing. He set the crate down on the table.
"What the hell is that, White?" Booth stood and rounded the table as the rest of the team watched. He picked up a letter and looked at the address, "These are all to Charlie?"
"This is a small portion of letters that she has received over the course of the last four years." Gus knew that revealing this now was more than certainly going to enrage Booth. He stepped back and gave the other man a wide berth.
"Four years? Why are you just giving us them now?"
"I needed to be certain that everything was connected. There was no sense in dragging all of this out into the open if they had nothing to do with what was happening."
Booth threw the letter down and ran his hand through his hair, trying to temper his anger, "Does she know about them?"
"She's only been aware of them for the last two years. The first two years the letters were mailed to Lou's office and he didn't tell her about them."
"Charlotte doesn't seem like the type of woman who wouldn't want to know – why did he keep them from her?" Brennan asked.
"Because he was old school and he didn't want to scare her and…the letters themselves aren't menacing. He thought he was doing the right thing by shielding her from them. But after she married the Speaker and finally had her own permanent address the next year they came to her."
Sweets raised his head up to get a better look at the contents in front of him, "What do you mean the next year? Why didn't they start coming immediately?"
"Whoever is writing these, they write her a letter everyday and then hold onto them until mid-June and then they mail that year's letters all at once. The M.O. is unique."
"That's creepy." Angela shuddered, "Think about it, if you get a letter every day, after awhile it's like 'oh, look ,Larry still wants to kill me', which is not that scary but 365 letters all at once – that's messed up."
B&B
June 10, 2013 8:05 AM: Corner of K Street and Hamilton, Washington, DC
Sending her anniversary gifts today. I hold them in my hand and think of all the memories we made this year and can only imagine the ones we'll make this coming year. War, travel, other men, even marriage – nothing keeps us apart.
She just hasn't realized that fact yet.