Sorry this took so long to put up. My schedule has been turned upside down and my laptop is in the shop, so I have to use the desktop computer and it isn't always available. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this update. :)

Chapter 5

Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Tuesday at 10:00 am (Eastern Time)

Angela looked at the drawing in front of her. She was confident that it was correct; it was just that the victim brought back memories of Kurt. They looked quite similar and that's why she wondered if she had unintentionally drawn her murdered boyfriend.

"What have you got Angela?" Cam walked into the forensic artist's office and broke her train of thought.

"A picture that will hopefully lead to an ID," Angela smiled slightly.

"Great, I'll fax it to the Phoenix field office and have them contact Booth," the Head of the Forensics Department took the sketch and was off going about the task she discussed. Angela sighed and decided to see what the boys were up to.

"Good morning Angela," Simon was his usual cheerful self as she entered the platform.

"Morning. Anything good yet?" She wondered.

"Yes, I believe we aren't dealing with coyote bites," the intern said.

"Oh and why is that?" Angela looked at the marks on the bones and thought that the jaw of the animal that bit the victim had to have been big.

"The depth of the marks aren't consistent and they appear to be done after the flesh had been removed. I fully expected to find tissues embedded inside the tiny corners of the marks but they were empty," Simon replied.

"And a coyote wouldn't play with a bone?" The forensic artist raised an eyebrow.

"Well they would except it wouldn't have been placed back with the body. If a coyote used it as a chew toy it should still be out in the desert," he explained.

"Did you let Cam know?" She asked.

"Yes. I was wondering if you could use the Angelator and perhaps come up with a scenario. It would be very useful to see what kind of dog could make these bite marks," Simon smiled nicely and she smirked.

"Trying to pickup Jack's puppy dog eye routine?" They both had a laugh at the entomologist's expense.

"I'll see what I can find," she promised before heading back to her office.

The Phoenix FBI Field Office, Tuesday at 9:00 am (Moutain Time)

Booth sat next to his partner and across the desk from Agent Cary Blachura. The younger agent was slightly shorter than Brennan and she wore her brown hair up in a ponytail. She had sent the fax to local police and they were now going through the missing persons database.

"As you know both your suspects' records came back clean; no Mob or crime family connections. So far we haven't found anything negative on Bosch but that doesn't mean someone he knows isn't clean. Perhaps your victim wasn't involved with the Sheriff and those two boys were just at the wrong place at the wrong time," Blachura shrugged.

"Perhaps but it doesn't explain the Sheriff's behavior," Booth said.

"Maybe he's just under a lot of stress," the younger agent commented.

"Maybe," Booth tossed the idea around in his head but it didn't seem all that likely. How much stress could he be under as he retires?

"Looks like we have a hit on your victim," Blachura turned the computer screen for the partners to see.

"Reggie Sanderson, six foot two, two hundred pounds, aged twenty three at the time of his disappearance," she read off.

"Who reported him missing?" Booth wondered.

"His mother, Anita Sanderson. She called the police when he didn't return home from a friend's house. A search of the friend's residence and the route to the Sanderson home was conducted and it came up empty. Search efforts continued in the desert surrounding the highway for a week before it was called off due to the extreme summer heat. That summer was one of the hottest on record here," Blachura added.

"Do you have a current address for his mother?" Booth asked.

"Sixty three Henderson Avenue. I'll upload the directions to your phone," she told him. He nodded and turned to his partner.

"Ready to inform his mother?"

"I'm never quite ready for it," she sighed. She had been quiet most of the morning, trying to process what Simon had had Cam relay.

"I know what you mean Bones," he half smiled as she stood from her seat. The two headed out to the SUV, not looking forward to their next task.

Sixty Three Henderson Avenue, Tuesday at 11:00 am (Moutain Time)

Booth pulled the SUV up the street and parked in front of the house. It was a small ranch style in need of a paint job and probably a new roof. The white paint was flaking off and the navy shutters weren't in much better shape. Moss grew on the roof near the chimney and closer to the gutters. The front porch however looked almost brand new. The black wrought iron railing had been freshly painted along with the white steps and porch planks.

"Why make your porch so nice when the rest of the house is in need of work?" Brennan asked.

"Maybe the porch was the only thing she could afford," Booth shrugged as he rang the doorbell.

"I suppose," his partner tilted her head to the side slightly. Just then the front door opened and there stood a woman in her early fifties. Judging by the cane, Booth gathered she didn't or couldn't work full time.

"Good morning ma'am. I'm Special Agent Booth of the FBI and this is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan," his words made the woman's face go pale.

"You found my son didn't you?" She asked.

"May we come inside?" He wondered. She only nodded and headed toward the living room. Booth closed the door behind him and followed his partner until they were seated on a worn down sofa.

"You found my son," this time it was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes ma'am. I'm very sorry to have to tell you this but he was murdered three years ago," Booth hoped he'd been gentle enough.

"A mother hopes you know but somehow I knew I'd never see him again," she sighed as tears began to well up in her eyes.

"We're very sorry for you loss and we know this is difficult but do you think you could answer some questions?" The G-man wondered.

"I can try but I'm not sure what else I could tell you than what I told the original investigating detectives," Mrs. Sanderson said.

"It's ok, even the smallest thing could help," he smiled. She nodded and he continued,

"Did your son have any enemies?"

"He wasn't always on his best behavior but Reggie kept his nose clean. I couldn't think of anyone who would want to hurt him," she told them.

"What did your son do for a living?" Brennan asked. The question was simple enough but Booth wondered where she was going with this.

"He worked in construction," Mrs. Sanderson was a little puzzled herself.

"Who for?" Booth now understood why his partner went that way.

"Vinny Scarpini," she said.

"What did he do for Vinny?" Brennan wanted to know.

"He did concrete and occasionally ran errands for him. Do you think Vinny had something to do with Reggie's death?" Mrs. Sanderson asked.

"We don't know but it's important we get the full story so we can better understand your son's movements," he told her. With that he handed the woman his card and the two partners excused themselves. Once inside the SUV, Booth called Agent Blachura.

To Be Continued…