"No matter how careful you are, there's going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn't experience it all."
~ Chuck Palahniuk (Invisible Monsters)
Chapter Eight: Jigsaw Puzzle
"Hey Booth?" Sweets stepped into Booth's office later that afternoon.
"Yeah?"
"Uh, I just have a few questions. About Charlotte." Sweets winced at the last two words that came out of his mouth.
Booth leaned back in his chair and exhaled, "What do you need?"
"Her family. She doesn't have any?" Sweets asked as he took a seat.
Subtly cracking his neck Booth responded, "Uh…Her parents died when she was in college and she never mentioned anyone else, that I remember. Except Lou, he was the closest thing she had to family. Why do you ask?"
Sweets glanced down at his notes, "In the letters he, I'm assuming it's a man writing them, talks a lot about her being all alone in the world and how hard it must be for her."
"What are you thinking? Guardian angel turned psycho-stalker?"
"That's a good possibility."
Booth leaned forward on his desk, resting his weight on his forearms, "What else?"
"I need all the letters. These all seem to be from mid to late 2011 and Mr. White or Gus or whatever we're calling him said there were more. I can't construct an accurate profile without all of them."
"He's gonna bring them by. He needed to go and brief Charlie and some other very important people."
Sweets bobbed his head up and down, "Are you ok? I mean, this has to be seriously hard for you. Old girlfriend, high-publicity case, all of that. Need to talk?"
"Isn't that what we're doing?"
"You know what I meant, Booth."
Booth straightened his arms out and adjusted his non-existent cufflinks, "I'm fine, I don't need to talk. Is that all?"
"Yeah for now." Sweets stood to go and then turned back toward Booth, "Actually, there is one more thing…What do you make of the writer referring to her as Clover? He never uses her real name in the letters that seems odd."
Booth had started to sign case reports when he thought he was done answering questions. He stopped and looked up at Sweets, "Well, she…Charlie has a small clover tattoo."
Sweets leaned in with one shoulder and asked, "Where?"
"Why is that important?"
"Is it somewhere people would see it?"
"No." Booth shook his head once.
"No, as in maybe if she were in a bathing suit or no as in only if she was in her birthday suit?"
"That's it." Booth clicked his pen and stood up.
"What's what? I need to know these things. I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable."
Booth pulled on his jacket and headed out of his office with Sweets in tow, "I'm not going to sit around here all day and answer questions when you can be getting the info you need from the source. You're going to Charlie's house."
"Don't you need to clear that with the Secret Service and her?"
"Nope."
Sweets dropped his head and followed Booth into the elevator, mumbling, "This is gonna be fun."
Once in the elevator, Sweets leaned over and asked, "Where is the tattoo?"
Booth rolled his eyes and answered under his breath, "Just south of her hip."
"Very cool." Sweets grinned before he saw the look on Booth's face, it was not a happy look, "Sorry, I just have a thing for women with tattoos. I'm sorry."
"Well, you're young…" Booth pulled out his phone and got ready to call Gus to let him know he was bringing them a gift in the form of Sweets when he stopped himself, "This is someone she knows – well."
"If the clover is as small and hidden as you say it is than…yeah, they would have to know her like you know her, I guess."
Booth stared straight ahead and tightened his jaw, "I'm letting that go because we're alone but keep in mind that I'm not putting up with that in front of everyone else. Understood?"
"Yes. Again, I'm sorry." Sweets silently wondered how many times he would end up apologizing to Booth as the case wore on.
B&B
A few hours later Brennan stopped into the Hoover to check on Sweets' progress and when she found his office empty she headed three floors up to Booth's office. Normally, she loved to hover near the doorway and watch him work in his newer, expansive office with floor to ceiling windows that let exposing sunlight in that never failed to highlight all the things she loved most about his form but today was not a normal day.
She rushed in and dropped her purse on the desk, "Why isn't Sweets in his office?"
Booth's head shot up at the familiar sound of her voice. He forced a smile, "Hey, Bones. I, uh…I took him to Charlie's house to work. He needed answers to questions about her and the rest of the letters were there so…it made sense."
"So, he's there working…by himself?" She asked slowly.
"Yeah, what's the problem? He would have been working here alone anyway."
Brennan rounded the desk and stepped between his chair and the desk and hopped up on the ledge, "Do you know how many letters he has to go through?"
He casually traced his finger up her stockinged calf which caused her to smile faintly, "365 over four years, that's what?"
"1460 letters total. By himself, Booth?" She jerked her leg away from him and moved off the desk, "We'll never find Clayton in an acceptable amount of time this way."
"What do you want to do? You want all of us to go over there and sort through them?" Booth asked as if that was the last possible solution to the problem.
Without a word, Brennan pulled out her phone, hit number two on the speed dial and shot Booth the look he knew meant 'you're so damn lucky I married you', "Cam, can you, Angela and Hodgins please meet Booth and myself at the Wood's residence in an hour? Thank you."
B&B
Later that night, as the team sat around Charlotte's kitchen table carefully searching through the nearly 1500 letters all addressed to her, Charlotte found herself strangely comforted by the odd grouping of individuals who had pitched in to help her and yet barely knew her. She was comforted until…
"Listen to this, guys." Cam cleared her throat, "This is beyond…just beyond, it's dated February 18, 2011. 'Crimson: It rained today but I know the rain doesn't bother you. So very little bothers you – that's admirable and frightening at the same time. I wish you were more careful as you move through the world because you never know what dangers lurk around every corner.' Signed 'Yours'."
Charlotte dropped the letter she had been trying to read, "So, it's someone who knows the rain doesn't bother me. Who does the rain really bother?"
The group quickly looked up at her, shrugged and then looked back down again almost in tandem.
"What's the deal with the two different names? Anyone else notice that?" Angela asked without diverting her eyes from the letter she was studying. "He refers to her as Clover and then Crimson and then back and forth. Weird."
The group all nodded in response and with the exception of nervous tapping coming from both ends of the table thanks to Charlotte and Booth, the room stayed quiet.
Then, Sweets' head shot up, "It's a song."
"What's a song?" Angela asked.
"Crimson and Clover." Sweets opened his laptop and found the tune he was thinking of quickly and played it for the group.
Charlotte kept her reddening face down but she could feel all eyes on her until Booth reached over and turned the music off. She looked up with grateful eyes, "Thank you."
"We established the meaning of clover but what about crimson?" Brennan asked Charlotte directly.
"I have red hair and I went to Harvard – take your pick." She unceremoniously stood up and walked outside without another word.
Hodgins leaned over to Booth, "She went to Harvard?"
"Apparently." He stood and followed Charlotte's path.
Booth walked up behind her on the deck that was blissfully secluded from the press and leering eyes of gawkers by a thick patch of oak trees. "I can't imagine how hard this is."
She turned to look at him, "You really can't."
"Can we talk?"
"Sure." She leaned against the wood railing and tucked her arms across her chest
"Why didn't you tell me about the stalker last night?"
"I was told not to."
"By your buddy Gus?" He asked with a brow cocked.
"Yes, he didn't want to drag something this personal out in front of the world unless it was absolutely necessary."
Booth nodded, with a fake understanding, "I'm not the world, Charlie. I'm a guy you know, who knows you – it's different."
"You're a guy who knows me so well that you accused me of having something to do with my husband's disappearance and then told me he was probably dead. Thanks for that, Seel."
"I never accused-"
She stepped toward him and cut him off, "I heard you when you were talking to Gus, this is an old house. It's drafty – sound carries."
Booth dropped his head, "That wasn't…I didn't mean…I know, ok. I know that you had nothing to do with this but I was just-"
"You were just trying to assert your authority. I know, and I understand. That doesn't make it right or excusable. And if you think that…." Before she had the chance to finish her thought they were interrupted by Sweets.
"Hey guys, I'm sorry." Sweets closed the door behind him and approached them, "Mrs. Woods, I have a few new questions."
"Lance, I've been telling you all day to call me Charlie."
"Right, Charlie…."He sighed, "Where were you in June of 2010?"
"I was, uh…I was in Afghanistan, why?"
"What day did you get there?"
She looked at Booth, "I-I'd have to look at my records I don't remember the exact day."
"June 3rd. She got there the night of June 3rd."
"How do you remember that?" Charlotte could barely remember the month they were currently in let alone the day she arrived in a warzone four years prior.
Booth rubbed his forehead, "It was Parker's birthday. I-I picked you up from the airfield right after I got done talking to him."
Charlotte had forgotten that they had talked about that that night and for an odd reason it made her feel bad. She turned to Sweets, "Lance, why does that matter?"
"First…" Sweets addressed Charlotte, "Did you go anywhere later that month?"
"No, I was there through October. What's going on?"
"The first letter is dated June 10th." Sweets nervously looked down at his feet, "How many guys were in the unit?"
"35." Booth and Charlie answered in unison.
"Including you, Booth?"
"Yeah, why?"
Sweets ran his hands though his hair, "Well, we just narrowed down the suspect pool to 35...minus one." He pointed at Booth and slowly walked backwards toward the door.
August 8, 2010 12:15AM: Barracks, Kandahar Province, Afghanistan
I haven't decided if she and Cabina are stupid or if they think the rest of us are. I am not stupid, I know what goes on in the middle of the night and if I didn't care so much for her, everyone else would know, too.
Someday I'll show her how much I really care.
Now just isn't the time.