Sorry for the delay! Unfortunately it's going to be much harder for me to post for the next two weeks, and I blame that fully on exams. I dream exams, I breathe exams, I live, study, study exams, I even eat them up!

That's why I broke down and wrote this. ;)

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CHAPTER 34

The shower helped, but not much. I realised that I was alone now. Alone against Frank Bram, because Booth would have to stay in the hospital at least for a week, more if he actually listened to what the doctors recommend.

Angela has beautiful large brown eyes. Bram hated that. He hated… or loved, or whatever it was that he felt, he felt it about women with dark eyes. With a chill that had nothing to do with cold water, I remembered his question.

"Are your eyes blue enough?"

Angela's eyes were brown. They most certainly weren't blue enough. I closed the tap and towelled my hair roughly. Cam had left my spare set of clothes on a chair; jeans and a flowy purple shirt. I kept clothes in my office for the days when I stayed to sleep in the lab, and supposed she'd found me out.

"Cam?" I called at the lab in general. Everyone turned to look at me, but I ignored the questioning, curious glances. "Cam!" I shouted again.

"Here, Dr Brennan!" Cam replied in the corner of the lab. I strode over to her, feeling a crushing weight added over me when I saw someone was cleaning Booth's blood from the platform floor. Cam looked pale and worried.

"Where is Angela?" I said before she could speak.

"Come with me, you should hear it yourself."

"Hear what?"

Hodgins was waiting in Angela's office, looking completely dumbstruck, staring at the far wall. He didn't even turn when we entered.

"Play it for Brennan, Hodgins."

"I can't hear it again." He said, his voice choked. And with shining eyes he left the room.
"Hodgins-" I called, but a firm hand on my shoulder from Cam was enough to stop me. I felt like I was caught in a nightmare and I just couldn't wake up.

"Are you ready?"

"Just play it." I said grimly.

Cam went over to Angela's large computer screen and pressed a few keys. Immediately the sound of a phone beeping filled the room, coming from my friend's speakers in every corner. After four rings Angela picked it up.

"Help!" she said, her voice strained. "I don't know where I am but it's quiet and-"

"Angie! It's me, Hodgins."

"Oh, God…" she was crying. "Jack, Bram was waiting in my car. He just sprang at me, I couldn't do anything…"

"Where are you, Angela?"

"I don't know, I'm tied up, and I can't see anything."

"You don't remember anything?"

"No. I never saw anything, he knocked me out. I can only smell…"

"Wait, how did you answer the phone?"
She began to sob, and I suddenly my legs buckled and I fell. Numbly I registered the couch stopped me from hitting the floor, but just sat, gripping the fabric with white knuckles.

"He's here! Holding it to my ear."

"Angie, we'll find you. You're going to be okay! Tell me anything you can-"

"Nah, I don't think that's going to happen, Dr Hodgins."

"Bram, you son of a bitch! Let her go! What's she done to you? What has she done! Her name is Angela! Let her go!"

"You found Dr Brennan."

"Angela Montenegro! She's an artist! She's a wonderful, innocent artist who-!"

"She won't suffer, you know. She's very strong. Her eyes are very dark… Goodbye, Hodgins."

In the background, very faintly, I heard. "Jack!"

And then the call went dead.

"Did no one trace this?" I asked quietly.

"What?"

"Did no one trace this." I repeated, more loudly.

"No. Dr Hodgins used his cell phone and didn't take the necessary precautions. He was just worried about her, Brennan."

"It was long enough. We could have triangulated a signal." I said through clenched teeth, but really I knew I probably wouldn't have thought of it either. "What time?"

"Five minutes ago. Six, I'm not sure."

"She's already bound and tied. I spoke to her almost an hour ago, say fifty minutes. So if she got to her car in five minutes since we parted, and the call was five minutes ago, they can't be anywhere far from the hospital. He'd need at least ten minutes to drag her inside, tie her up… at least, so that gives us a half an hour radius, maximum."

"Okay. But that's still a very large area, Brennan. Traffic isn't very bad at this time, he could be-"

"She's alive. She's still alive, I don't understand that."

"What?"

The pathologist walked over to where I was sitting and looked down at me, afraid and worried and tired. "What do you mean, Brennan?"

"He never took the victims. He killed them and then left them on the crime scene. He never took anyone."

"I'm going to call Sweets-"

"Why are you going to call me?"

Dr Sweets had just entered the office. For once, something had gone right. "Dr Sweets, we need your help. At this point, even psychology might be useful."

"I'm glad you think so highly of my work-" he began sarcastically (I think), but I cut across him.

"No time. I need you to help me get Frank Bram."

"I gave you the profile, didn't I?"

"You must have given it to Booth." I said dismissively. "Just listen to me. He's changed, hasn't he? He used to murder them. He went to their homes and he killed them there, the women he loved, or hated, I don't really know why, I don't do why, I just do how-"

On 'how' my voice cracked and I realised I was choking back tears. "The point is, he kidnapped Margaret Stoker. He took me, and now he's… he's stolen Angela."

Sweets took a step back as though someone had hit him.

"He's taken Angela?"

"Yes. We have no time, okay?" I stood up, but the motion gave me a head-rush and I had to sit back down. "Answer my questions and we'll find her faster, I promise."

"Okay. Okay, fire away."

A tear trickled out of the corner of my eye, and I didn't wipe it away.

"So why does he do it? Why has he suddenly changed his entire MO? Angela doesn't even have a boyfriend. I didn't have a boyfriend either, but Bram didn't know that. I… I don't understand anything."

Dr Sweets nodded and motioned to Cam for her to sit down, but she refused.

"I can tell you why Frank Bram murdered those three women first: Helen, Lily and Sandra. In them, he saw the image of Margaret Stoker, who had always been the object of his affections."

"But he didn't even start working for them until three months ago…" I began desperately.

"He asked for the job because he was already in love."

"Don't say in love" Cam said suddenly. "Please don't say that, that's not what the bastard feels."

"My apologies. He had seen her before, had met her earlier somwhere and then got the job. But he'd always wanted her. So he looked for her in other women, not daring to actually approach or hurt her."

"Jeanie Whitmore. The different attack." I said.

"Actually, I spoke to Angela about this."

My stomach twisted.

"You did?"
"Yes, on the phone about an hour ago. When Agent Booth went in to visit you, I think."

"So what did she think?"

"She told me what you'd told her. The entire thing, your conversation with Anne, your fight with Bram. About the eyes, about how he was obsessed with the colour of their eyes." Sweets looked rather sick as he said this.

"And…?"

"I googled Jeanie Whitmore. Found her picture instantly. She was very beautiful and slightly younger than the other victims. A doctor, correct? The other women were in their late forties, she was forty-two. This is important. And her eyes were large, pretty and… totally black."

"Black." I saw the look on Bram's' face as I shouted. "Did she fight back?" I said loudly. "What happened when Anne saw her, Frank?"

"I think that terrified him. The black. He seemed to measure the fragility of the women by the darkness of their irises."

I felt like throwing up. Angela's eyes were almost black.

"I think she frightened him. So instead of attacking her in her element, her house, he waited until she was outside and attacked her in his element, under cover of darkness and trees. He didn't stab her, probably because when he tripped her he saw the opportunity to end his torment faster, and simply killed her. He didn't take his time like the other women. He was afraid. Maybe he heard someone approaching. No witness ever said anything about a dark figure running away from the scene, did they?"

The tears kept running down my face, but I ignored them. I didn't matter.

"No."

"I still think it's likely someone saw him. That trigger would serve as the perfect excuse to leave, to hurry the kill and flee the scene."

"But why has he changed?" I croaked.

"He got what he wanted." Sweets said simply. "He found the courage to take Margaret herself, probably because he saw her divorce from her husband as a sign, even though the reason had nothing to do with him. Kevin Stoker went to prison, so he was out of the picture, Anne Stoker became Anne Harris and got into Witness Protection, she was gone too. She fired him, but what did that mean? It was all Kevin's fault, and now Kevin was gone. So Bram saw Margaret as rightfully his. He still took his time, he killed Jeanie when Mr Stoker was already in prison, but he was steeling himself for the real thing."

"But Anne." I persisted. "Somehow Anne was with him the night Jeanie died… she lied to us when we called her, her blood somehow got on Jeanie's remains post mortem. He was always close to her. And he managed to kidnap her."

"I have a theory." Sweets said, sounding hesitant. Feeling myself completely abandoning the scientific method, I urged him on. Sweets hadn't failed so far, it was scientifically probable that he was right now as well. Psychology seemed the only way of getting answers anymore, and as long as it correlated with the forensic evidence, I was willing to accept his hypothesis.

"Tell us, Dr Sweets." Cam said.

"He became obsessed with Anne because Anne was the thing that Margaret loved most in this world. In his twisted mind he thought Margaret would never love him as she loved Anne. He both adored and despised the child for what she represented, and so wanted to control her. He also saw her as a way to get Margaret's attention."

"But the blood, Anne seeing Jeanie's corpse?" Cam was speaking for me now, as I became quieter. I was putting the puzzle together in my mind, too…

"Anne was there when Jeanie was killed. She was the one who saw Bram. He told her he'd kill her mother if she said anything, maybe told her he knew her father's cellmate, that he'd get him to murder Kevin Stoker."

"But Anne said she hated her father." I murmured, almost to myself.

"That doesn't necessarily mean she meant what she said. It's likely she was protecting him, actually. And she was scared, he's a large man, maybe he hit her, cut her, and that's how the blood got on Jeanie's corpse."

I nodded. It explained all the forensic evidence.

"And after that?"

"Bram said he'd leave them alone. Anne Stoker didn't strike me as one to risk more women dying for her family's sake…

"You didn't even know her!" I said.

"Please, trust me, Dr Brennan. He stopped killing didn't he? Kept his word to Anne, and also saw this as the perfect opportunity to frame someone else: the man he hated more than anything in this world. Kevin Stoker."

So finally it all made sense.

"But why take Dr Brennan? He had who he wanted, why kidnap her?"

"She was a threat. He reacted out of fear again, lashing out to the authority she represented, she was right on his tail, she was intelligent, capable, strong-"

I didn't need my qualities listed as motives for murder. "Enough."

"Sorry. It was probably also because you reminded him of Anne. And Agent Booth provoked him. A strong male who already had everything he wanted. A figure in command."

"What about Angela?" I asked softly.

"Another strong woman who threatened him. She was the reason you survived, Dr Brennan, she's the one who found you. Angela is intelligent, capable of hunting him, hurting him. He felt fear again, threatened. He desired you, yes, but by not stabbing you, instead leaving you to either die of starvation or be saved, he clearly showed the difference between you and the other women."

"He identified them with Margaret and me with Anne?"

"Yes. I think that's why he couldn't kill you himself, actually. He left it to chance, and only realised his mistake later."

"But Angela looks nothing like Anne Stoker." Cam said.

"I know."

And at this Sweets collapsed onto another couch, looking very, very tired. His eyes shone, and I was sure he was going to cry until he said, quite levelly:

"That's why I'm afraid we may not have much time to save her."

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Quite a lot of psychology in this one. It even creeps ME out! And I'm the one writing about the insane killer. Sheesh, the thins floating around in my head are creepy.

Anyway, tell me your thoughts! I'll try and update ASAP, but like I said, exams, exams, exams!

So review, review, review!

I promise some Booth-Bren love in the next chap! I know this one was rather lacking in that department. ;)