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"What do you mean, no signal," she asked, turning fully as he showed her the 'no service' sign on his phone's screen.
"David told me that he had his own tower, that it always worked." She trailed off as Booth's face filled with a matching realization.
"Damn it," he repeated, hand clenching dangerously, "How could we have missed that?"
"We don't know it's him," she argued, partly out of habit.
"Who else knows this place well enough to murder three people in the span of an hour and not be seen," he countered. Booth started formulating a plan now that he had a reasonable suspect.
"What about motive? Means? Even opportunity can't be proven—he was in the ball room the whole night."
"And now he's the only one missing from the party. I'd say that's reasonable suspicion," Booth shot back. Brennan knew they wouldn't get anywhere on this track and switched gears.
"I need to examine the rest of the bodies and see if I can gather any more information from them."
Booth understood this rapid change in thought and let the previous subject drop, agreeing, "I'll look at the clues and see if I can figure out what's next. We need to be ready for it the best that we can."
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They worked quietly in a seamless tandem for the next twenty minutes. Booth gathered information from the anxious patrons while Bones worked examining the poisoning victim as well as Gregory Sanders.
"Booth," she called, breaking his attention the two 'poems' in front of him, "Has anyone touched the bodies?" She was currently kneeled in front of Sanders, examining the wound on his neck.
"No, nobody has wanted to touch them," he replied while he walked over, adding, "Well, you know, except for you of course."
She sent him an eye roll over her shoulder before turning back to the body.
"This hair caught in his," she gave a slight grunt as she pulled the head up with a wet sucking noise, "neck, begs to differ." Booth, who cringed slightly at the sight, tried to ignore the retching behind him.
"Could it, uh, be his hair," he asked, unable to look away from the head she currently held by the neck.
"Not at all, Gregory Sanders' hair is grey, this hair is black." She set the head on the chair next to her, leaning over the rest of the body to examine the neck.
"Bones! Do you mind? Not everyone here sees disembodied heads every day," Booth hissed, turning to block the view of the head from the rest of the group.
"Don't be silly, Booth," she said, never breaking her concentration, "we have the body right here."
Before Booth could even snort in appreciation, he heard a familiar clicking of heels across the polished wood floor. An exuberant "Darling!" confirmed his suspicions. He felt Bones stiffen next to him.
"How are you both doing," Marilynn probed as she came upon the pair.
"Just fine, Marilynn," Booth replied stiffly, "Though we do need space to examine the remains."
"Oh I understand," she said, brushing off his concern, "I don't want to get in the way of the real Kathy and Andy." She giggled and Booth questioned her sobriety.
"But maybe you can help us," Booth said, an idea catching him. Bones started to protest but he cut her off, continuing, "We need someone who knows everyone, someone who can keep everybody talking."
"Oh that's me," the publicist said excitedly, clapping her hands together with joy.
"Great! Than what I need you to do is go mingle with the other guests and then when I give you the signal, come over and tell us what you found out. Can you do that," Booth tried to infuse as much excitement into his voice as he could. It worked because she quickly agreed and then disappeared into the crowd with her 'mission'.
"I don't understand it," Brennan muttered to herself while she scrutinized the wound track.
Booth snorted loudly, "Yea, I'll never get that woman either."
"No, what I don't get is that Gregory Sanders appears to have been dead when his head was removed. Despite the lack of blood flow, there still would have been quite a bit of blood lost when it was severed. I don't understand how the killer was able to stem the flow of blood until later as well as conceal a knife from a crowded room."
"Unless," Booth prompted her, knowing there was still more rotating on the cogs in her brain.
"Unless knife wasn't a knife at all," she motioned him closer, pointing to a spot near where his left ear would normally be located.
"There is something foreign here, but I can't determine what. I need Hogins for this," frustration colored her tone at not having the resources she usually did.
"Well, we don't," Booth replied honestly, "It's just you and I. But Bones, we can solve this. We may not have everything, but we have a damn good start."
"Okay," she conceded, "I need to see the first body, see if there's anything there."
"What do we do about the other two," Booth asked, not sure if they could trust them in the room full of nervous people.
Standing up and stretching her back, Brennan said, "The security guards are our best bet. They are silent, strong and know what needs to be done."
"You realize you just described a good suspect for murder, right," Booth said seriously.
"Yes, but it isn't them," she replied evenly, "The guards have very little to no hair. Their heads are generally shaved. They couldn't have left the hair on Gregory Sanders." She motioned one guard in black over. He was a burly man with large, inset eyes and an even larger mouth which was in a perpetual straight line.
"We need you and your men to watch these bodies. There is a third upstairs and we want no one to be within their immediate vicinity, do you understand?" Brennan laid out her parameters before the man could speak. The man only raised his eyebrow slightly at this forward woman.
"Yes ma'am" he drawled quietly with a curt nod. Brennan bowed her head slightly as well, acknowledging his assistance.
"Thank you, we'll be sure to let you know anything else relevant to you and your people," she said before purposefully walking out of the room, Booth trailing quickly after her.
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When they reached the room, Bones immediately went to the body, conducting a more thorough examination than her first. Booth sat in the desk chair, alternately watching her and reading the clues.
"Bones, what do you think of when you hear the word 'see'," he asked after about ten minutes of silence.
"Ocean, cove, Mediterranean, the dig I did in Greece two summers ago where—"
Booth cut her off, a slightly exasperated look on his face, "I mean see as in s-e-e, see."
"Oh," she amended, feeling slightly embarrassed, "well, I think of vision, watching, to witness, observe."
For some reason, that word struck Booth. He concentrated on it, rolling it over in his head as he looked over the verses from the two other victims.
"I've got it," they both declared at the same time, though Bones' declaration was laced with a more melancholy tone.
"You first," Booth said, ever the gentleman as he came closer to her and the victim.
"After examining the wounds, I have to say, though we'd need help from Cam to be entirely certain, but it is reasonable to say that Marguerite De Lacue was not killed in a fit of anger. After she was paralyzed from her neck injury, she was placed on the floor where she suffered fourteen stab wounds, inflicted by some sort of large blade."
"We already knew that Bones, how does that help?"
She looked up at him from her spot by the victim, "Thirteen of the fourteen wounds were shallow, penetrating about an inch and a half at most. They would have caused bleeding, but mostly pain. The final blow was to her heart, between the second and third ribs. The killer tortured her Booth."
Her partner ran a hand over his face, realizing this was much bigger than either had imagined.
"What did you find out," she asked, regarding him in full empirical mode.
"Well, I looked at the clues and I noticed that the word "see" was the only word capitalized that shouldn't have been. I think I have the next location," he said, trying to pull some hope from the dregs of his spirits.
"Great, where," she asked, jumping to her feet immediately, albeit unsteadily in her current footwear.
"The observatory."
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