6.

The next morning was proving to be a headache for Sweets who had a puzzle in front of him he wasn't exactly sure how to solve. He loved puzzles, he was good at puzzles - he didn't like this puzzle. He had spent the early part of the evening doing research, solving the case and then figuring out how to cover it all up. Sweets had found that Carl Sager had gone into debt with his wife's illness and gone into the trucking industry. By placing his house for sale he bought a big rig to live - and work in. The job would keep him off his bad hip as well so he left Booth a voicemail. The thought of going home wasn't appealing since each time Sweets had gotten into his car he was attacked so he stayed later and worked more. He then located the missing truck and was sent orders for an FBI forensics team out to collect any evidence and take it to the Jeffersonian. He felt safer if it went to the Jeffersonian - should anything happen to him then they could still solve the case. If the FBI people kept it in their files it could be gone, who knew how extensive the trooper's network was.

Sweets thought of the trooper and ran thru the state roster. Sweets had half assumed at the time that the guy was only dressed like a trooper but his vehicle and dress attire looked authentic, and he had information available to a trooper. Well sure, anyone will pull over for a trooper. Still that could be hacked, stolen. Soon enough Sweets found the answer in Officer Dan Carter, a highly decorated and commended state trooper. The more Sweets dug the more charitable and awarded the guy came across. Right, that should be able to convince people he's a criminal - which is surely why he's doing this.

Sweets rubbed his head, he was exhausted and dirty from his tussles on the ground thru the day. I don't care, I have to head home. It's after midnight, perhaps even bad guys need rest.

Sweets headed home dividing his time between watching the road and his rear view mirror. By the time he reached his apartment he felt at ease that the bad guys had taken the night off.

Sweets walked to his place, selecting the keys on his ring when he heard a whistle and turned suddenly only to see Trooper Dan Carter behind him. The surprise of his close proximity made Sweets wobble and fall forward, hitting his chin on the steps. The taste of blood filled Sweets mouth as he quickly turned back to the trooper who stood over him, currently not in uniformed attire.

"Whoa, careful there." The trooper said. "I'd better help you to your place, you haven't been drinking have you sir?"

"No, I'm fine, what can I help you with?" Sweets said rubbing his chin that throbbed in pain.

"That's a bad cut." The trooper said looking at it with disdain and Sweets recalled the rule - no marks to be seen.

"Accidents happen." Sweets said hoping to find out what the guy wanted at two in the morning in the dark pathway leading to his place. There used to be decorative lamps but the apartment dwellers complained the lights shone in their rooms at night while they were trying to sleep. Sweets tried to point out the dangers of not having lights, a point he couldn't point out to anyone now.

"Let me help you inside, make sure you don't have any more accidents." The trooper said pushing Sweets towards his door.

"Really, it's fine." Sweets said refusing to open his door. "What is it you want?!"

The trooper gave him a look that suggested Sweets lower his voice and Sweets felt the prod of a barrel of a gun in his side. The trooper nodded to the door and Sweets reluctantly opened it. The trooper waited for Sweets to go first who walked in backwards, keeping an eye on the trooper but the room was dark and Sweets couldn't see the trooper move in his black jacket taking a Billy club to his side, Sweets swore he heard a crack as he fell to the floor while the trooper shut the door.

"I'll keep the lights off if you don't mind." The trooper said standing over Sweets keeping a calm and even voice as though nothing violent was actually going on. The trooper waited for Sweets to stop coughing and once he did he leaned down to talk to Sweets. "Perhaps you can tell me why you were looking me up on the roster."

Sweets eyes widened with surprise though he doubted that the trooper Carter could see him anyway. Geez how deep does this guy's infiltration go?

"Didn't think I would find out did you?" The trooper said with his voice getting father away. Sweets could tell he was standing back up and with the growing menace in his voice Sweets figured it was to take another swipe at him. Sweets scuttled in the dark to move and sure enough the trooper's foot didn't find its target this time.

"Where did you go you little…" The trooper found a desk lamp while Sweets reached for his gun. In his exhausted state leaving the office he realized it was still in his desk.

"Ha ha, forget something kid?" The trooper laughed.

"Look, I wanted to know who you were, in case I needed to contact you, see if you were legitimate." Sweets lied.

The trooper didn't buy it. "No, that's not it. But see, I want to make sure you have a real clear idea of how much I don't want you digging around me." The smile on the trooper's face didn't make Sweets feel at ease as he lunged forward at him. Sweets scuttled towards the next room but the very in shape Carter caught the aching Sweets quickly. It was a brief scuttle but in seconds Sweets found his wrists in cuffs behind him. He realized perhaps the trooper's awards for capture may have been well deserved though he would have preferred to not be at the receiving end of it.

"There." Carter said turning Sweets to his back, his arms and hands being smashed by the weight of Carter who sat on top of Sweets pinning him down. Carter ripped the front of Sweets shirt open as Sweets breathing and heart rate began to go thru the roof. Carter pulled a cigar out of his pocket and lit the end of it, stoking it. Sweets was pretty sure he knew where this was going.

"Look, you've made your point." Sweets said trying to keep his breath calm and try and reason with the lunatic. "I just wanted…"

"Do you want to plead?" The trooper asked. "Sometimes they plead before they go."

Sweets felt a shiver over his body - the reality that this many had taken lives, presumably many and was completely devoid of remorse. His eyes went back to the trooper when he heard the swift opening of something sharp and saw a pocket knife in Carter's hands. Carter took a puff on the cigar as he made a single deep cut above Sweets newly fractured rib.

"Go ahead, plead, beg, music to my ears." Carter said but as Sweets kept quiet he instead dug the cherry end of the cigar over the open cut. The pain of the red hot end on the open bleeding cut made Sweets want to scream out but Carter put his hand over Sweets mouth. It was the same hand the cigar was in. Sweets heavy breathing sucked in the gross smell of the tobacco so close to him on Carter's hands and the ask falling towards him.

"Beg, not scream." Carter instructed. He took his hand away from Sweets mouth as he looked back at him.

"How many were there?" Sweets asked defiantly.

"That's not playing the way I asked." Carter said taking his knife and now making a row of shallow cuts this time. He put the cigar back in his mouth as Sweets continued to grit his teeth. Carter shook his head. "Not smart kid." Carter balled his fist and landed in Sweets side again, rocking the burning cuts and knocking another rib loose. His body tried to move away but Carter held him firmly in place.

"Ha ha, go ahead and struggle kid, I've wrestled wild life - and won."

"Alright." Sweets said lying back on the ground. "What do you want? Yes, I won't investigate you. But if you do this too much longer I can't go to work tomorrow and not solve this case for you. I'm sure like the others you've made beg, at least I have some leverage."

Carter stopped as though to consider what Sweets had finally found via an answer to his most current situation. Sweets decided to sweeten the offer.

"If you kill me or I suddenly collapse and can't cover it up there's going to be a lot of questions - namely in what I've been working on lately. Killing me will only multiply the amount of agents on it."

Carter thought this over, indeed it seemed to Sweets that he wasn't one of Carter's typical prey.

"Alright, but no more digging in the wrong places." Carter said and ground the cherry red butt into Sweets chest as Sweets writhed in pain at it. "If you'll see how this is only the warm up round that it is."

Before Sweets could mentally or physically recover from the painful assault, Carter flipped him onto his aching chest and took off the handcuffs which had dug into Sweets wrists deeply.

"One more thing." Carter said kicking Sweets so hard in the chest his body flipped over side up and back down again.

"You may be the lead but it doesn't mean you're not replaceable." Carter stood up and put his knife away. "You get out of line again and I'll stop picking on you and pay more attention to them. Maybe one of the girls, Camile, Angela, hell maybe I'll let you pick. Funny isn't it, you're starting to look like hell and no one's even asked what's wrong. Some friends you got kid. Oh well, works well for me."

Sweets waited for it, unable to move and sure enough there was one more swift kick, this time to his stomach as the trooper left whistling a cowboy song.

Sweets wanted to curl up and die. He laid on the floor trying to comprehend the mere notion of how much pain he was in when he heard the trooper's car leave. He wondered why it was so loud when he realized it was because the door was still open. He heard another car pull up causing Sweets to subside the pain and rush to the door closing it and locking it. Trying with all his strength to stand he looked out the peep hole and saw another car take the trooper's place, the driver continued to sit in the driver's seat.

"I've got to get out of here." Sweets said under his breath. He pushed himself away from the door but was too unsteady on his feet. He fell onto the coffee table but caught himself enough to not cause any further damage. Using every table and wall to steady himself he made his way back to his bedroom. His adrenaline running high he was able to shed his clothes quickly though with pain he tried to ignore. He grabbed a bag and quickly stuffed random clothes in it - he had no plans to come back to his apartment any time soon, the FBI office was the only secure place he knew of and he decided to stay there until this case was over.

Sweets put on a pair of pants and tee shirt for now, a suit or two in the bag he would sort thru later, whether or not it matched he didn't care. He picked up one more thing by his bed and took a deep breath as he opened the front door.

Across the walk way he saw the man watching him from the darkness of his own vehicle. Sweets walked to his car with his eyes trained on the man in the vehicle who watched Sweets closely. Carter's replacement was surely a baby sitter but Sweets wasn't taking chances. In his left hand was his overnight bag, in his right was the gun he kept at home, clearly visible to the man in the car. Sweets was done taking shit tonight.

Sweets drive back to his office was spent concentrated on the car that followed him at a distance. Once Sweets pulled into the FBI complex the car drove on, seemingly satisfied of Sweets location.

Sweets walked the sparsely lit halls on his way to the gym. Few people were there at this three a.m. hour, something Sweets had planned on. Sweets slipped into gym area, walking past the equipment and headed straight to the showers. Not until the water hit his chest did the pain return - his concentration so heavily on his venture there he blocked the rest from his mind, a trick he had often fostered in his lifetime though he often blocked out hurtful words more than burns to his chest. Sweets looked over the injuries, trying to keep himself as detached as possible. Lance if you breakdown now, you can't put this back together. Sweets knew himself well, if he let the damn open he may not be able to shut it for now. Against his better psychological judgment he buried every fear, impulse and pain as best he could. The drops of water from the shower felt like stabs of pain on all the injuries that littered his purpling skin.

Aware that some agents may be coming in early to work out before work Sweets left the shower, dried off and sorted thru the hastily packed bag. The dark shirt he had donned when he left had hidden the blood that seeped thru it. He soon located a first aid box in the gym and with shaky fingers was able to stop any further bleeding. Once he was pleased that none would bleed onto the white shirt, blue tie and dark gray suit he packed he took his bag and headed to his office.

Sweets vaguely recalled breakfast yesterday, nothing else since and considered what options might be available to him. He passed a couple of agents in the hall, and he wondered why they were there. Could some of his henchmen be here as well? Sweets wondered and suddenly lost the tiny appetite that had been building. Coffee would surely sustain him he convinced himself as he continued to his office. He sat at his desk trying to figure out what to do, which brought him back to the present, trying to figure it all out and earning nothing more than a headache for it. He was tired, exhausted having had no sleep last night, his body was hungry though his nerves would have nothing of it. So when Booth came in the door unannounced as usual it was no surprise to Sweets that he damn near jumped when he came in.

"Looking at comic books again Sweets?" Booth teased him.

"Booth, good morning." Sweets said trying to pass it off as nothing though his nerves were damn near shot. Unexpected moments were not something Sweets wanted right now.

"Hey you left me those voice mails at like eleven last night. How late did you work?" Booth asked.

"Late enough." Sweets said yawning thinking of what work he had done before his brief time at "home" last night.

"Why? You could have checked that stuff out this morning. What, didn't you want to go home last night?" Booth teased.

Sweets eyes flared for a second as the memories of last night swam in his tired and aching head. He wanted to fall on the floor and rest, tell Booth how much it all hurt and ask for help. He knew Booth would help him, right?

"Look Sweets, I know the whole romance thing hasn't been going well for you with the Daisy debacle and then the Jessica debacle." Booth said in a tone that teetered between teasing and compassion. "But you know it'll work out one day. Perhaps with someone who doesn't have a long pony tail, high voice and is employed by the Jeffersonian Institute."

Sweets shook his head in amazement, he thinks I was up with a girl last night? Really? Perhaps Carter was right, I'm dying here and no one seems to notice. I gotta get some coffee so I can continue this charade. Maybe I should take the compliment that I'm a great actor. Lance, let's not even go there and what that means. Coffee Lance, concentrate on coffee and making it there. He got up and walked out of this office as Booth followed. "Thank you agent Booth, perhaps I will troll the possibilities here at the FBI."

"Can't date people at work Sweets." Booth teased as they walked to the coffee maker when Booth noticed something. "Hey what's that big scratch on your chin?"

Sweets froze for a second as he touched the surface of the skin that obviously hurt to his touch. "Oh, that…uh…" With the multitude of injuries Sweets had forgotten one of the few visible ones.

"Damn Sweets, it's all purple too! What did you do?" Booth said coming closer to inspect the mark that was hidden below Sweets chin enough you could not see it at first glance.

"Oh, it's nothing." Sweets said with a quick glance to Booth backing away so he couldn't see. "Well, I mean yeah it hurts but it's so dumb, I was so tired when I left my dress shoe slipped on the step while I was yawning. I hit my chin on the step outside my place."

"Oh." Booth said thinking it sounded plausible. "You gotta be more careful." Booth warned him.

"Yeah I will." Jesus that was close. Close? What am I saying, God this sucks. I need help so bad! Concentrate Lance, get the case done and then you can rest, it can all be over, you just need more clues or something to end this. Sweets was beyond excited when his phone buzzed. "Ah, looks like the forensics team did find some fibers in the cab…" Sweets scrolled thru the message. "But not much else. Yuk, that's what I was fearful of."

"What's that?" Booth asked sipping his coffee, trying to nonchalantly look at Sweets phone. Sweets knew Booth was the one usually doling out info, not waiting for it.

"Well the truck was in a swamp. I was hoping enough of it was above the muck, but looks like very little was." Sweets didn't know if that helped him any or not.

"Okay, so what's next?" Booth said anxiously. Sweets knew that question was coming and sucked down more coffee to avoid answering right away.

"We need to find the identity of the other man." Sweets said taking out his phone. "I'll call Dr. Brennan."

Sweets saw that Booth had taken out his phone too. "Oh sorry Sweets, habit." Booth apologized and put his phone away. "You should make the call."

"It's fine Booth, you are married to her." Sweets headed back to his office. "Just let me know what she says." Sweets was more than happy to sit back down, his head was spinning and this got Booth out of his hair in case he involuntarily passed out in the next two seconds.

"No, Sweets you should, you're the lead on this."

"Booth being in the lead is also about knowing when not to push something that's not important." Sweets offered the best smile he could muster and headed back into his office.

Sweets was glad and half surprised when he made it back to his office. There was a file from Angela he quickly skimmed thru but the glare of the screen only made his headache worse. He sat the cup of coffee down but his head felt heavy, then he felt like he was burning up along with a feeling like he wanted to throw up. Feeling the pressure on his injured chest Sweets stood up hoping it would help but it did little to ease the sick feeling. Sweets tried to grab his chair but it moved, not in real time motion but in Sweets vision and he toppled to the floor.

Things were hazy for a moment as Sweets lay on the floor of his office trying to rest for just a moment, get his mind back together.

"Hey Sweets." Booth said coming into his office. "Sweets?" Booth asked again and Sweets realized he should have known Booth would never knock.

Sweets wondered for a second if he didn't answer if Booth would go away and he could rest but he would only start calling and then his phone would ring, giving him away with far more questions. Before Booth could say it again Sweets stood up from behind his desk.

"Hey Sweets' what's wrong?" Booth asked walking closer to him.

Sweets felt pale and flushed and awful but he pushed it aside as he continued to try and find his footing. "Nothing, I just…my pen…it rolled under the desk all the way to the back and I had a damn hard time getting it." Sweets lied and held out a pen he had picked up from his pocket as he stood up.

"You look sort of winded." Booth said and Sweets thought that sounded like concern in his voice, he was sort of glad but he had to downplay it.

"Oh, yeah, I feel so dumb, I got my head stuck. For a second I thought I was done for. Don't tell anyone." Sweets said sitting down with a much needed relief. He figured no one would question his reason of being clumsy though he really wasn't - it was just how they viewed him or so he thought. "I'd feel so stupid if anyone knew."

"Okay." Booth said sitting on the corner of Sweets desk. Sweets tried to pretend like this was normal an offered Booth a smile though his body was still screaming for a large dose of pain killers instead of dating advice.

"Oh hey, Bones called, well, she didn't call, and I was talking to her when Angela came over."

"Ross McLaughlin?" Sweets asked.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Booth asked in surprise.

"Angela sent me the file a few minutes ago, probably after she told Brennan." Sweets explained. "What are you thinking, what's a trucker and a detective doing in the middle of nowhere?"

"Is there a punch line?" Booth kidded.

"I wish that's all it were." Sweets said thinking more of his own series of unfortunate event but thought back to the case to solve. "I'd like to know what he was investigating."

"I'll get on it - if you want." Booth said. "Or would you rather me track down his car - maybe it's hidden like the truck was."

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind looking for his car I'll check out this guy." Sweets said, hoping there would be an opportunity would present itself.

"Sure thing Sweets." Booth said heading to the door. "Hey how about lunch? You look hungry."

No, I'm famished and I could also care less. "Yeah maybe." Sweets said offering a smile as Booth left.

Once Booth was gone Sweets decided to do a little case work, work he did not plan on sharing with anyone.

Sweets wasn't surprised when Booth walked in his office without knocking but it startled him nonetheless.

"Geez, Booth, could you knock sometimes?" Sweets said as he moved his notes to the side of the desk opposite Booth.

"Maybe I did last time you were on the floor finding a pen and you couldn't hear me." Booth joked as he came closer.

"I doubt it." Sweets answered trying to casually put his notes away. Sweets didn't want Booth to see all that he wrote down everything he had found since Booth had gone, everything he had found about the girls that Ross McLaughlin had been investigating, the people McLaughlin had talked to, all information he hadn't planned on sharing with Booth as it would mean proving the case was murder and offering more evidence.

"Hey Sweets, find anything on McLaughlin?" Booth asked.

"No, nothing." Sweets said jogging the same multiple pages he just professed didn't exist.

"Well, I found the guy's car." Booth said happily. "I have it secured. Let's go look at it."

"Why?" Sweets asked quickly, venturing outside the office walls wasn't appealing. "The forensics…"

"Sweets sometimes it's about fieldwork - come on let's go!" Booth said playfully but Sweets didn't want to be anywhere near a crime scene. But if he didn't go then maybe he would take Brennan, then Brennan could be in danger.

"Okay, uh, let's go then." Sweets said looking at his notes, he didn't want to leave them for anyone else to happen upon and locking them away in front of Booth might pose questions.

"Sweets, it will all be here when we get back." Booth assured him.

"Right, uh, I'll just take my notes." Sweets said taking his portfolio and holding it close.

"Sure, but I'd take my gun."

"Oh shoot..." Sweets said realizing he now had his gun from home in his bag and his work gun in his desk. He opted for the work gun and headed for the door.

"That's not the right thing to say when getting your gun Sweets." Booth teased but Sweets wasn't listening. He was thinking about notes, guns and psychopaths.

"Hey, mind if I drive?" Booth asked. "I mean nothing wrong with your car it's just that…"

"That's fine!" Sweets quickly agreed as he wasn't sure if his still had any blood on the seat from last night in it still, it was dark and his chest was bleeding quite a bit. "I mean, use your gas not mine, that's fine."

Here we go, leaving the office…

Almost up to speed, one more chapter and one more reveal and then maybe solve the case? If Sweets can make it...