Bones: The Bone That Blew Recap
January 22nd 2009 23:37
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In the middle of the night, two poaches sneak through a government protected forest preserve looking for the rare Black Walnut Tree. Instead, they find a bunch of bones in the trees.
“Aaaahh!”
~*~*~
At the Jeffersonian, Bones is hastily walking after Cam, upset that Cam has just hired her (Bones’s) father to work at the same lab. Cam insists that he was the best candidate, but Bones is not so convinced.
“Are you sure?” she asks. “My dad is an excellent liar.”
“He’s also an excellent science teacher,” Cam answers, still walking. “I called the school where he taught—”
“Fifteen years ago!”
“—And after fifteen years, they still remember him. They named their lab after your dad,” Cam is confused. “I thought you’d be pleased.”
“Well you are incorrect,” Bones answers, asking, “Is there a probation period?”
“Yes…”
They finally come to a stop, and Bones says, “Well, what would please me is if you terminate him at the end of that time.” With that, she walks off, leaving a surprised Cam to stare after her.
Bones walks into another lab to find her father doing an experiment for a bunch of kids. “Okay kids, everybody put on their goggles.”
“Hello,” Bones interrupts.
“Oh hi, honey.” Her father smiles, then turns on the experiment, sending a beam of refracted light around the inside of a giant orange jello mold. The kids are impressed. Bones frowns and turns on the light, and Max takes off his goggles. “Science squad? Meet my daughter, the world-famous anthropologist, Dr. Temperance Brennan. Course, I taught her everything she knows.”
“Actually I went to college,” Bones says, completely missing her father’s humor. “I have multiple degrees. “
“Well, tell the kids a little something about refraction,” Max coaxes, and Bones immediately spouts off the very scientific, mathematical explanation, and the kids just stare blankly at her. “…and N equals—”
“Nifty,” her father interrupts. “That’s very nifty. But what was your favorite example when you were a kid?”
Bones frowns at him, then admits, “Rainbows…”
“Rainbows!”
“I love rainbows!”
The kids get this one, and grin as Max tells them how his daughter used to make him drive her all the way across town “to the other side of the rainbow, because she couldn’t believe that light came out of the back of a raindrop.” Max smiles sadly, thinking about this a moment, then peps up and asks if anyone has a question for Bones. Immediately every hand in the room goes up.
Bones quickly starts backing out of the room. “I have to, uh, examine the frontal bone of a dead person’s skull—maybe another time kids!” She’s gone before anyone can try to stop her.
“Dead person’s skull,” Max says watching her go. Turning back to the kids he quips, “Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
They all laugh. Clearly Max is a very good teacher.
~*~*~
Bones meets up with Booth at the crime scene. FBI agents are walking around collecting evidence and taking pictures, while Booth and Bones stare up at a tree.
“Most likely a wind deposited them there,” Bones says.
“Seems most likely...”
“Well, the bones didn’t come from the ground and they didn’t come from the sky,” Bones counters. “That leaves the wind.”
Suddenly a Department of Fish and Wildlife representative walks over. “Those people over there? They need to clear out.”
“Okay, well those people over there are looking for the rest of THAT,” Booth answers, pointing at the tagged remains.
“They’re right in the middle of the Mass Booby migration path.”
Booth just stares at her. “Mass Booby? You’re kidding.”
“The Department of Fish and Wildlife does not kid, Agent Booth,” she answers curtly.
Booth walks over to join Bones, who is examining the remains, and tells the woman, “You’re just gonna have to give me a minute, okay? You can have your Boobies all to yourself.”
The woman is not amused. Booth leans over to Bones and whispers, “Okay, what do we got?”
Bones tells him that it’s a sacrum, definitely human, charred. She sniffs it, much to Booth’s disgust. “I hate when you sniff and smell dead things.”
She isn’t paying attention and takes another sniff. “Fresh burn…Days or weeks rather than months.”
The intern of the week calls out that he found the dead guy’s hyoid, and as he’s bringing it over, Bones asks, “Dead guy, as in sexually non-specific urban colloquialism? Or in reference to the gender normally associated with a penis Mr. Bray?”
Wendell glances at Booth, and answers, “Uh, penis?”
Bones notes similar char marks, and Booth asks the Department of Fish and Wildlife officer if there were any recent fires in the area. No. Bones notices a fracture in the hyoid, meaning the victim was strangled. They’re going to need to search this entire area because this is murder now.
The Wildlife lady gives Booth an ‘Is she serious?’ look, and he just answers, “According to my scientists, your Boobies are out of luck.”
~*~*~
Booth walks into the lab and is surprised when Bones’s father greets him.
“Max?”
“Wish I could stay and chat, but I have to go pick up my new employment ID—” He grabs Booth’s arm, giving it a friendly punch on the way out. “Ooh, guns of steel!”
Very confused, Booth watches him walk out. “You work here now?” Max leaves and Booth swipes his card, joining everyone on the platform. “You’re dad works here now?” he asks Bones.
“Not my idea.”
“She wants me to fire him,” Cam says skeptically.
“Why?”
Bones explains that “this is a crime lab. My father is a bank robber and accused murderer.”
“Booth’s killed more people than Max has and he works here,” Cam argues.
“Don’t bring that up,” Booth interrupts, frowning. “Why’d you have to bring that up?”
“In fact, Dr. Brennan,” Cam continues. “You’ve also killed a person, and, I’ll point out, Max was never convicted, so in the eyes of the law? He’s never killed anyone.”
“Why are you defending him?” Bones asks.
“Why aren’t you?”
Booth nods in Cam’s direction, agreeing. “He is your father.”
Bones is frustrated. “Who’s sperm hit who’s egg shouldn’t determine who works here!”
“Come on, he’s showing kids around the museum,” Cam answers. “What could it hurt?”
Bones has had enough. “Let’s get to work please.” She bends down to look at the remains and Booth and Cam exchange a look. Cam sighs. Sometimes there’s just no getting through to Bones.
Getting back to work, Bones says that she found an anomaly. The victim suffered a compression fraction about 3-6 months before his death. Booth doesn’t get why that’s an anomaly, and Bones explains that compression fractures are normally associated with osteoporosis, but the victim’s sacral vertebrae haven’t undergone final fusing. Which means the victim wasn’t even 30 years old yet. It also means that the fracture was from something like a car accident or parachute jumping. “It would have been very painful.”
“20-something with a bad back,” Booth says. “You gotta give me something more to go on, Bones.”
The phone rings and Cam goes to answer it as Booth and Bones continue to argue.
“Well I would love to give you more Booth, but that would involve fantasy, which would be feudal.”
Cam tells the person on the phone that she’ll check her e-mail, then tells Booth that it’s his lucky day. “We ran the victim’s bone marrow? We got a hit on the armed forces DNA registry.” She brings up a picture of the victim in uniform. “Here’s your guy. Calvin Warren.”
Booth notes that he was in the Marine Corps, Special Ops. “Toughest of the tough.”
“The kind that parachute out of airplanes and get vertebral compression fractures?” Bones asks, and Booth answers, “You know what? You are a genius, okay?” He turns to Cam. “So did the Marine Corps tell us where this guy got to?”
Cam shakes her head. “They don’t know. Warren was honorably discharged three years ago. Marines tried to track him down, see if he wanted to re-op. Even checked his credit cards and bank accounts, but he was totally off the grid.”
“Would his back be bad enough to medicate?” Booth asks Bones.
Definitely. Okay good, Booth will just order a search on the controlled substance database and see if he can get an address. “You guys can go back to your bone play.” With that, Booth is gone.
Cam and Bones exchange a look. Bone play? Okay then.
~*~*~
Hodgins picks up the blackened sacrum and hands it off to Wendell. “Can believe how light this thing is?”
“I’d say six grams.”
“No way these bones were burned in an ordinary wood fire,” Cam agrees.
Still holding the bones, Wendell adds, “A wood fire burns at 800 degrees Fahrenheit. Human flesh needs 1400 to ignite.”
Hodgins stares at him. “Why do you know that?”
“I got an uncle who’s a funeral director. Crematorium will incinerate a grown man down to five or six pounds.”
Well, good to know. Cam points out that the bones weren’t cremated. “The bones would be dryer and the flesh would be completely gone.”
“Meaning that the burn was hotter than a wood fire and cooler than a crematorium,” Hodgins adds. They’ve still got a thousand degree range to work with. Could they ID the accelerant? Wendell thinks they need a broader picture of the burn conditions.
“How you gonna do that?” Cam asks, and Wendell looks at Hodgins. “We could experiment.”
“Oh…” Hodgins says, finally getting it. “Oh is that what you’re after here?”
Wendell has no idea what he’s talking about. Cam shakes her head innocently. “You’re recall I mostly disapproved of your experiments with Dr. Addy.”
“You didn’t disapprove of the results.”
“You have me there Dr. Hodgins,” Cam admits, then leaves.
Wendell turns to Hodgins. “I can’t tell if we’re doing the experiment or not.”
“Not.” Hodgins takes the bone and places it back down on the table.
~*~*~
At the diner, Bones and her father are at the counter eating. He doesn’t get what the big problem is, and she points out that his “mere presence taints the evidence.” He argues that he’s not going to be near the evidence. “Basically I’m just going to be firing lasers through stuff.”
Sweets walks in and Max says, “Oh look, there’s that doc that told the jury that I was a sociopath.” Sweets spots them and walks over, smiling as he sits down. “Please,” Max offers. “Sit down Doc.”
“A likeable sociopath,” Sweets says, grinning.
Max turns to his daughter. “So Cam wants Hodgins to design an experiment to figure out how hot a fire was?”
“Yeah, how hot a fire was that burned a body.”
“What body?” Sweets asks, and Bones answers, “The bones in the tree murder victim, which is a crime we cannot discuss,” she adds, giving her father a warning look.
“Yeah,” he answers, “But I know exactly how that experiment should go.”
“You aren’t adequately credentialed to design an experiment, Dad.”
Sweets studies them both a second, then says, “Can I ask what’s really going on between you two?”
“Tempe doesn’t want me working at the uh, Jeffersonian,” Max answers somewhat sadly, and Sweets wants to know why.
“Well it’s a conflict of interest!” Bones answers, as if it’s obvious. “We catch criminals and my dad—is a criminal.”
“That would be valid—”
“Thank you.”
“—If that were you’re real reason,” Sweets finishes, adding, “But it’s not.”
Bones lets out an exasperated laugh, rolling her eyes. “Yes it is.”
“No it’s not.”
Max watches back and forth as they continue to argue.
“Yeah—yes it is—“
“Nooo.”
“Yeah-huh.”
“No it’s not.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“No,” Sweets says once again. “And this can’t be resolved between you until you confront the real reason behind your feelings.”
“What do you say it is?” Max asks.
Sweets bites his lip, then answers, “Well, at the time you abandoned your daughter 15 years ago, you were a well-regarded scientist.” Father and daughter look at each other as Sweets continues, “Now you are basically in the same situation, and subconsciously she doesn’t want to risk feeling that sense of abandonment and bereavement again.”
Bones glances at her father, wondering if this is making sense to him, but Max just answers, “Well that is such a load of crap.” He smiles at his daughter. “You are far too rational for that.”
She nods. “Exactly.”
Poor Sweets, can’t get through to anyone once again.
~*~*~
Cam walks into Angela’s office to tell her that the victim had a prescription for Oxycodone from a doctor who’s never even heard of him. “Plus she’s a dermatologist. Very rarely writes prescriptions for pain medication.”
Angela points out that he probably stole her prescription pad. She grabs her mouse and clicks an icon on her computer. “Here’s his myspace page and I have say, he doesn’t look much like a drug dealer.” They both look at the pictures. “What a waste,” Angela adds. “Tall, dark, handsome and dead.”
“Too bad he’s blocking his address.”
“Well, let’s see.” Angela enhances the glass door in the background of the photo, does a little tweaking, and finds the house number across the street: 3294. From the architecture and lamp post, Angela narrows down the neighborhoods.
Cam: You know, for an artist you make a pretty good detective.
Angela: I think you just insulted me.
They laugh and Angela does a search of the DC area. She comes up with an address and raises her hand. “Mad skills, babe.”
Cam high-fives her.
~*~*~
Booth and Bones go to search Cal Warren’s apartment and find out that the man was very private, dodged any questions about what it was he did for a living.
“Maybe he liked his privacy,” Bones says, placing some boxes back in the closet.
“What so much that he paid in cash?” Booth closes the kitchen cupboards. “I don’t know Bones, something is weird. It’s not right.”
“There’s no letters, no photographs, not even a bill,” Bones agrees.
Booth starts going through the dresser drawers and asks, “So did you persuade Cam to fire Max?”
Bones stars going through the desk. “You think my father should be allowed to work at The Jeffersonian?”
“What? You know, she’s just trying to do you a favor.”
“Well I didn’t ask for a favor,” Bones answers, going to the side of the desk.
“Sometimes you don’t need to ask…” Booth trails off, and Bones glances up to see what’s he found. “I’ve got a passport.” Booth starts to look through it. “This guy’s been to countries I haven’t even heard of.”
Bones finds a card in the pocket of a jacket hanging near the desk. She holds it up. “What is this?”
“I don’t know…” Booth bends down and holds up two handfuls of money. “But this is something we’re familiar with. Foreign currency. Lots of it.”
~*~*~
Cam hands the mystery card off to Angela, who identifies it as “basically a super-fancy keycard”. Is there any way to figure out what door it opens? Angela will try. As she’s waiting for the keycard info to load onto her computer, Angela says, “I heard you tried to get Hodgins interested in doing an experiment.”
“Let’s just say I planted the seed.”
The computer is finished. Angela glances at the screen. “Huh.”
“What? CIA? NSA?”
“No. Dupont Circle.”
~*~*~
Whistling, Booth drives up to the security checkpoint and casually swipes the keycard. The yellow and black striped bar lifts and he drives on it. Booth parks and gets out of his car, ignoring the looks he gets from the security guys in the dark glasses. He walks up to the door, finds it locked, and presses the buzzer. “Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI.”
As Booth is examining a tiny NASA space shuttle model, a man walks up to welcome him to the private school. Booth shakes his hand and asks about all the security.
“It’s precautionary. Our student body includes children of diplomats, heads of state, CEOs.” He stops to nod a hello to a child as they start up the stairs. Back to Booth, he asks, “How old is your child?”
“Parker? Oh, he’s seven.”
“Has he been evaluated?”
“He does just fine.”
The man goes on to start describing the applicant process, and finally Booth interrupts, “Mr. Donnigan, I think you’ve got this all wrong.”
“I know it seems crazy, but given the demand we can only accept the most qualified applicants.”
Booth gets sidetracked. “Parker’s a great kid.”
They walk through an art exhibit and Booth stops to look at a red model truck as Mr. Donnigan answers, “The problem is keeping him that way, isn’t it?” He goes on to praise the school and how 68% of their kids go on to Ivy League schools. “It’s not because of our electron microscopes or our AP classes.” He finally stops walking to look at Booth. “It’s because of our honor code. Any violation results in immediate dismissal. Now, why don’t I get you an admissions packet?”
He starts to walk away, but Booth stops him. “Actually I’m here because of a murder investigation.”
“I’m sorry?”
“One of your parking lot access codes was found in the apartment of the victim. Cal Warren?”
“He’s not a parent or an employee, I would know.”
He takes Booth to check his computer, and Cal Warren comes up. Did he work for the CIA?
“No, actually, he works for the president.”
“Of the United States?”
Mr. Donnigan shakes his head. “Parents’ Association. As a nanny.”
Booth is surprised. “A Nanny?”
~*~*~
As Booth drives, he complains about the ridiculous cost of the private school to Bones, pointing out that one year of this school could pay for four years of college!
“If you think it’s so ridiculous, why’d you save the application?” Bones asks.
“I didn’t save it, I just didn’t have a chance to throw it out.” Booth grabs the packet and tosses it in the backseat.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Bones answers. “It’s perfectly normal to want the best for Parker.”
“Public school was good enough for me, it’s good enough for my kid,” Booth insists.
“Of course it is…probably.”
Booth looks at his partner. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Parker is a bright engaged little boy. I’m sure he’ll do fine in a large classroom.”
“Except…” Now she’s got Booth thinking.
“Except what?”
“You’re dad was a science teacher, you’re a scientist.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “My education was enriched at home.”
“That’s what I gotta do,” Booth decides. “Enrich Parker at home. “
“In what academics are you qualified to offer enrichment?” Bones asks, in her blatant Bones way.
“Well—” Booth lets out a laugh, thinks about this a second, then looks at his partner. Hmm…
~*~*~
They arrive at Elizabeth King’s house and ask her if she knows a Mr. Calvin Warren. She tells them he was her nanny, but she hasn’t seen him since Sunday. “He was an excellent nanny.” Booth asks how an ex-Special Ops guy becomes a nanny, and Mrs. King tells them that her husband handles defense contracts for the Middle East and South America. He was more like a bodyguard. “Do you suppose that’s what got him killed?” she asks. “Someone was after my children?” Booth asks if they can speak to her kids. “Of course.”
Outside, Booth and Bones talk to the kids, who are busy playing a life-sized version of chess. When did they last see Cal? The kids want to know why they ask, and Bones tells them it’s pertinent to the investigation. The kids continue picking up and moving chess pieces, speaking to each other in Mandarin Chinese.
“My father says the Chinese will run the planet in ten years,” the boy answers. “He figures it will be useful.”
“That’s very smart,” Bones agrees.
“OK, well here, today, okay?” Booth tells the kid. “I run the world.”
The boy spouts off some more Chinese, and Bones laughs. She leans over to her partner and explains, “He just called you a stupid inbred sack of meat.”
Booth is not amused. “Really?” He stares the kid down, taking a step forward. “I’m sorry, did you have something to say to me?”
The kid backs up, eyes wide as he quickly apologizes in Chinese. Bones translates. “He apologizes.”
“Good,” Booth answers. “So, you want to tell me what happened on Sunday?”
The kids tell them about their day, which ended in the boy going to a dermatologist to fix up his lacrosse injury. One of the kids’ mothers…
~*~*~
Both and Bones are in the car again, and Bones confirms that the boy was stitched up by the same doctor who’s name was on Cal’s prescriptions. Booth asks her if she thinks those kids are better off than Parker, and without hesitation, Bones answers, “Yeah, of course they are.” Booth just stares at her.
“They have every advantage, a wonderful school, a successful father, a mother committed to charity work,” Bones rationalizes.
Booth lets out a dry laugh. “I spend more time with my house plants than they do with their kids.”
“Well children of privilege have always been raised by staff,” Bones answers. “That’s how the upper 1% stays the upper 1%. Assuming quality education, adequate supervision, parents are rather irrelevant beyond a certain age.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Look at this,” Bones says, flipping through the packet for the private school. “They start Latin in 3rd grade. That’s fantastic!”
Booth doesn’t agree. “Naw, you know what’s more important than academic enrichment? A loving environment, you ask anyone.”
“Parker is a wonderful child, Booth,” Bones says finally. “You shouldn’t feel inadequate.”
“I’m perfectly capable of raising my own kid,” Booth says, getting irritated.
Bones studies him a second. “You’re being defensive.”
“I am not.”
“It’s because you only have one child. When you procreate in multiples there’s less pressure.”
“Thank you, I feel much better.”
Bones completely misses his sarcasm.
~*~*~
Booth brings the dermatologist in, who apologizes for not mentioning Cal before. She just didn’t connect that it was the same Cal Warren the FBI was looking for. She tells Booth that her son and the boy Cal looked after are on the same lacrosse team. The last time she saw Cal was when she took them all for a ride on her plane (yes, she’s also a pilot), and Cal got sick. The boys found that hilarious. Booth thanks her for coming in. She again apologizes for not putting the face with the name, and Booth wishes her a nice rest of the day on her way out.
~*~*~
Hodgins catches up with Cam as she’s walking through the lab.
“So you know that thing where you insist that all the information goes through you?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I’m immovable on the subject,” Cam answers, glancing back to the folder in her hand.
“And you send out little e-mails summarizing the case so far?”
“Yes, plus I check those e-mails to see if they’ve been open.” She slides her passcard.
“That’s a very good system,” Hodgins says.
“Thank you.”
He follows her up onto the platform. “Because if you weren’t checking, I probably never wouldn’t have read the e-mail that says Booth questioned a flying dermatologist.”
“I hope you’re not trying to get some free lotion.”
Hodgins tells her that if she “hadn’t been so anal about the e-mails” he never would have realized that he found some information that was vital to the investigation. Which is…? He sits down at his computer and explains that tetraethyl lead, which is what he found, and could link to the victim’s remains being incinerated by aviation gas.
“I’ll let Booth know.” Cam pulls out her phone and starts to dial. “Hopefully she hasn’t flown the coop while you while you were getting to the point.”
Hodgins frowns. “I was just trying to be nice!”
~*~*~
Back at the FBI, Booth brings the flying dermatologist back in for questioning, this time in the interrogation room. She admits to writing Cal some prescriptions, and Booth pulls out her flight records. After pulling out one weekend trip to New York, she admits that “no my husband didn’t know that I was having an affair with the King’s manny. Would I have killed Cal to prevent him from finding out? No, I would not.” Why? Because her husband wouldn’t care. She points to Richard King as someone who might want it to get rid of Cal.
She tells Booth that Cal told her to sell King’s company’s stock because he had insider information that it was in trouble. She took the tip, made a killing, and used the money for a trip to New York as a thank you. “And he said you’re welcome. All weekend.”
~*~*~
Hodgins and max are standing around a long clear tube. A tree is being set up at the open end of it. Hodgins admits that he “never thought I’d be doing another experiment.” Bones walks in, alarmed to find her dad there. “Dad, what are you doing in here?” Hodgins tells her that her father had a great idea for an experiment, and she argues, “Dad, you said you wouldn’t touch evidence!”
Wendell climbs out from behind the tree. “He’s been very careful not to touch the evidence Dr. Brennan.”
“You know,” Hodgins tells her. “You’re old man? He reminded me why I ever got into science.”
“To catch murders?” Bones asks.
“No,” Hodgins answers. “To figure stuff out in amusing ways.”
As they explain the experiment is a way to figure out where the remains were blown from judging on how fast the wind was blowing that day, Bones points out that this is the same wind tunnel that her father helped her build for the science fair. Max just laughs. “Basic wind tunnel, honey. You won first prize.”
Wendell tells her he made skull casts of the same remains that were blown into the tree. As Hodgins turns on the wind tunnel, he explains that they put the skull cast in the wind tunnel because it was the largest artifact on the tree. Bones frowns, and Max quickly holds up his hands. “I didn’t touch anything!”
Hodgins continues to explain that the bone begins to move at wind speeds of 42 mph. Not enough force to achieve aerodynamic lift.
“But crank it to 69,” Hodgins says, having to shout to be heard over the noise as he does just that. Suddenly the skull flies off its pedestal and into the tree. Everyone, even Bones, grins.
“I checked the National Weather Service,” Wendell says. “There were windstorms in that area last week.” Even got a northeastern wind up to 71 mph late last Tuesday.
“That gives us a 48 hour window for Calvin Warren’s murder,” Hodgins says. “But we still don’t know how he was killed or where the body was dumped.”
“Well wait a minute, I can figure that out,” Max says, and Bones suddenly interrupts, “Dad, you’re fired!”
Wendell stares at her, completely confused. “What?”
Max ignores his daughter. “The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.”
Wendell and Hodgins agree. If they just plot approximate mass and reverse the track the path of that wind, the heavier remains will still be near the original dump site. Wendell looks at Bones, and she just sighs.
“You see?” Max says. “I’m helping.”
“Oh most definitely is helping!” Hodgins agrees.
Bones isn’t convinced. “I’m sorry Dad, but you’re fired. You took part in a forensic experiment, you said you wouldn’t but you did. So now you’re fired!” She storms out.
“Dr. Brennan, he didn’t touch any of the evidence!” Wendell calls after her, but Max just waves him off. “It’s okay, kid. Never mind.”
Poor Max.
~*~*~
Booth and Bones arrive at a lacrosse game. They run into the King’s little girl, and Booth asks her why she’s there. Shouldn’t she be studying algebra or Chinese or something? She tells him she’s cheering for the goalie.
Booth watches the goalie catch the ball in his net, then answers, “Watch football, you know, it’s a much better sport. It’s American.”
“Lacrosse was invented by the American Indian,” Bones argues as they head for the dermatologist. “You can’t get much more American than that.”
“Hi,” Booth says walking up to the woman. She sighs. What do they want now? Booth tells her he was thinking about this whole insider trading thing, and Bones asks how Richard King found out that Cal spilled insider knowledge.
“That’s right Bones.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well where were you between last Sunday and Tuesday night?”
The woman stares at Bones, then asks Booth, “Who is she?”
“Don’t get jealous, doc, just answer the question,” Booth answers.
She tells them that she was in San Antonio doing skin grafts on a firefighter with 3rd degree burns.
“You’ve got your own plane,” Booth suggests.
“You had time to fly back,” Bones continues.
“You really want me to believe that Richard King killed Cal?”
Bones tells her that Cal’s remains were incinerated with aviation gas, and the dermatologist insists once again that she didn’t kill Cal.
“You know what?” Booth asks Bones. “She lies a lot, I don’t think she can help it at all.”
“Here’s my lawyers card,” the woman says, holding it out.
“She’s decided not to cooperate,” Bones says.
“I’ve decided to watch my son play Lacrosse.”
~*~*~
Angela pulls up the graphics on the monitor for Cam as she and Hodgins explain, based on the weather reports and wind speeds, the area where the rest of the remains probably are. Cam is impressed. “Excellent experiment.”
“Don’t thank me,” Hodgins says. “Thank Max Brennan.”
Cam just shakes her head. What a shame they can’t keep him.
~*~*~
Booth pours himself a cup of coffee as Max walks in.
“How’s it goin’ there Max?”
Max sighs. “Well it’s the last day with my kids this afternoon. I’m toast.”
“Cam fired you, huh?”
“No, no,” Max laughs. “Tempe fired me. And don’t tell me she doesn’t have the authority, because believe me—” he sighs. “—I feel fired.”
Booth understands. “Sorry Max.” He starts to walk away, but Max stops him, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“You, are you uh,” Max turns from the coffee counter to face Booth. “Are you sleeping with my daughter?”
“No,” Booth answers, surprised and somewhat amused that he should ask.
“Why? Are you gay?”
Booth snorts, trying not to laugh. “No.”
“Is she not attractive enough?” Max asks, confused.
“Bones is beautiful,” Booth answers, sincerely.
“Is it me?” Max asks. “Because I killed one man and we both know he deserved it.”
“Alright, just cut it out Max, alright?” Booth answers. “I’ll talk to her. Probably won’t get anywhere with her, but I’ll talk to her.”
“You’re a good man,” Max answers. “And I want that for her. And now I gotta go blow up some soda for some kids.”
With that, Max leaves. Booth stares after him a second, then leaves too.
~*~*~
Out in the woods, Bones explains that “according to the calculations, the bones must have started out from somewhere in this vicinity.”
“You know something Bones?” Booth asks as they head into the woods. “It’s tough being a father.”
“Parker will be fine,” Bones answers, completely missing his point. “Peer groups and random environmental factors are far more important than family.”
“How’s that a good thing?” Booth asks.
Someone calls them over to a charred section of grass, where they find the rest of the remains. Cal was shot with a shotgun.
“But I thought Cal was strangled.”
“He was,” Bones answers. “Strangled, shot, and set on fire.”
“Whoa, someone sure wanted to make sure he wanted to get home.” Booth glances through the trees at a nearby house. “Hey Bones, look at that family crest. Looks like that someone came from the King’s country home.”
~*~*~
Booth and Bones go to ask Mr. King questions about his nanny. He doesn’t understand why. He does have several shotguns, which he says they’re welcome to look. Bones tells him that two months ago Cal gave out insider information about his company. Mr. King says he didn’t know about it, and if he did, “I supposed I would have tried to fire him.”
“Tried?” Booth exchanges a look with his partner.
“Well I don’t think that Elizabeth would have allowed it.”
“Why?” Bones asks. “Was she having an affair with him?”
“Whoa Bones,” Booth answers, surprised by even her bluntness. “Good one.”
“You two need to learn focus,” Mr. King interrupts.
“Excuse me?”
“Focus.” King tells them to either accuse him of killing Cal because of the insider trading or because of his affair with his wife. “And then once you’ve chosen, then contact my lawyers. I’d go with the business motive,” he says. “I’m very happily married.”
Booth and Bones exchange a look, and on their way out the door, Booth whistles, and says, “Okay, that guy’s one cool customer.”
“Cool, like a murderer?”
No, Booth just doesn’t see him losing his temper or taking on some Special Forces Vet. He watches the King’s big dog walk by and asks, “Alright, do you think that dog comes with a saddle, huh?” He watches the dog and dog-walker walk by the cars, then stops his partner and heads after them. “Follow me Bones, will ya for a second?”
She follows him over to the King’s nice shiny sports car. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”
Booth leans through the open window and pops the gas tank open.
“Are you going to urinate in the gas tank as an act of vandalism?” Bones asks, pointing at the car.
“Are you kidding me Bones?” Booth asks, taking off his tie. “I would never do something like that to this fine Italian automobile. Booth reaches down past his “Cocky” belt buckle and takes off the gas cap. “Beautiful car, it’s Italian Bones, remember that. Italians make the best automobiles.” He begins stuffing his tie into the gas tank. “There it is.”
He pulls out his gas-soaked tie and puts the lid back on. “Okay Bones, give me one of your little baggies.”
“I didn’t bring in evidence bags.”
“Thanks Bones, I appreciate it, you come prepared.”
“Well we’re not at a crime scene,” she argues, following him back to his car. “Why would I bring evidence bag?”
“You always have evidence bags on you!”
~*~*~
The Royal Diner
Max and Bones sit opposite Sweets at a table, and Max tells Sweets that he’s “decided I’m going to leave The Jeffersonian.”
“Why?” Sweets asks.
“Uh because I fired him.”
“You can do that?”
“Oh believe me, she can do that.”
“Well it’s all about proximity to forensic evidence,” Bones quickly interjects.
“Uh, don’t take any offense, but that’s a lot of crap,” her father argues. “It’s about proximity to me.” He turns to Sweets. “Right?”
Sweets looks at Bones, who gives him a warning look. “Well, in my opinion,” he answers. “It isn’t your father’s presence that’s causing your anxiety. It’s your memory of his absence.”
Bones thinks about this a second, then answers, “I can understand quantum mechanics, but I can’t understand you.”
“Well make it easy,” her father interrupts. “I’m leaving The Jeffersonian.”
Bones is surprised. “You are?”
“But I’m staying with you,” he answers.
“Wha—at my house?”
“No—no, no—wait, is that an offer?”
“No, would you…would you want me to offer?”
“No no, but thanks for the offer.”
“No, wasn’t an offer, it was just a question.”
Sweets sighs. “He isn’t saying he’s literally staying with you, he’s promising never to abanomn ou again.”
Father and daughter look at each other, and Bones quickly says, “I’m sorry, but if it wasn’t for that evidence thing, I’d let you keep your job.”
“That’s simply not true,” Sweets answers, and at Bones’s look, Max quickly says, “It’s alright. We’re good.”
Sweets can’t take it anymore. “Ugh! Nothing I say has any impact.”
“Uh, I should get back to work.” Bones gets up and leaves.
“Geez,” Max sighs. “Did she leave any money?”
~*~*~
Wendell comes to see Cam in her office. “About the fractured hyoid?”
Cam looks up from her computer. “Yes?”
“I was just remembering about a tapeworm.”
“I’m gonna need more than that.”
“There was a tapeworm in the line, the one that went to the beer keg?” Cam just continues to smile blankly at him, and he explains, that he was working as a bartender a while back, and when there wasn’t a flow from the line, they assumed it was kink in the line right?
“What else could it be?” Cam asks, going along with it for now.
“There was a tapeworm in the line. Eight inches long. I learned something from that.”
“Drink bottled beer?”
No. “If the tap don’t flow, you assume the line’s got a kink. A guy’s hyoid is broken, you assume he died getting strangled.” Wendell goes over to bring up the evidence on the monitor screen.
“You found a tapeworm?” Wendell looks at her. “I mean metaphorically.”
“Yeah. But I don’t know if it’s a tapeworm. I need Dr. Brennan.”
Suddenly Hodgins shows up in the door, grinning. “I am so your most valuable player.”
~*~*~
Back at his own computer, Hodgins brings up the profile of the accelerant they found on the bones and the profile of the gas they took off of Booth’s tie. They match.
“Richard King’s car drives on av gas?” Cam asks.
“He could have siphoned it out of his own car to burn Cal Warren’s remains.”
Cam points to a large spike in the profile. “And what is this anomaly?”
“C6H8O7.”
“Citric Acid?” Cam asks, dialing her phone.
“It’s my considered belief that Agent Booth spilled orange juice on his tie,” Hodgins answers.
Cam laughs. “I look forward to seeing him explain that to a jury.” Booth picks up and she tells him he’s probably going to want to get a warrant to arrest Richard King.
~*~*~
Wendell, Cam, and Bones are looking at the spinal and skull fractures on the monitor. Bones agrees that Cal wasn’t strangled, he was dragged.
“Strangulation was the king, getting dragged was the tapeworm,” Wendell says, and both women frown at him. He continues to explain that the pattern of the marks shows a series of connected prongs.
“What would do that?” Cam asks, and Bones answers, “A choke chain.”
Cam points out that Richard King is a “big strong guy, I don’t see him dragging a dead body around on a choke chain.”
“Because he didn’t,” Bones answers. She presses some buttons and a blue line highlights the angle of the fracture. It’s only 18 degrees . What does this mean? “Whoever dragged the victim is at most 5’5”.”
“Elizabeth King,” Bones answers.
~*~*~
Booth asks Mrs. King if she’s sure she doesn’t want her attorney present, and she replies, “let’s just get this over with.”
“Sounds good to me,” Booth answers. “So here’s what I’m thinking. I’m thinking that your country home is less than a mile from the spot where Cal’s body was burned. You had access to shotgun, the aviation gas.”
She points out that every single one of her staff would have access to those things, and he points out that he doesn’t think any of them would really care if they found out that Cal was trying to destroy her husband’s company.
Booth sits on the edge of the table and lets the words hang in the air. When Mrs. King doesn’t reply, he continues, “You have a nice life. I’m sure you got really angry when you found out that it was all going away…huh?”
“You don’t understand,” Mrs. King says calmly, almost amused even. “It wasn’t about the money. I had to protect my family.”
~*~*~
“What do you think?” Booth asks, stepping into the room behind the glass, where Sweets is waiting.
“My professional opinion? She didn’t whack ‘em.”
“What? Come on, Cal betrayed them. Come on Sweets, for once you were right.” Booth slaps him on the back. “Embrace the win my friend.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s kinesics 101,” Sweets explains as Booth puts his tie back on. “You pushed all the right buttons, but instead of her ego defense system triggering a stress response state, she went straight to a tacit confession.”
“Right, which means, she did it.”
“No, that means she didn’t do it. But she wants you to believe she did.”
“Why would she want to do that?”
Sweets glances back to Mrs. King sitting staring at the table in the interrogation room. “Because she’s covering for someone. The only honest thing that she said was that she had to protect her family.”
“So we’re back to square one.”
“Sort of.”
Booth sighs. “Sweets, let me ask you something. Did, I mean you’re a smart guy, you went to private school, right?”
“Yeah. Perfect attendance through 6th grade, might I add.”
“That’s great, um…You don’t think that I’m a lousy dad for not sending my son to private school, do you?”
“No,” Sweets answers, smiling. “But you’d be a lousy father if you didn’t torture yourself about it.”
Finally someone makes Booth feel better about this whole thing. Booth’s phone rings and it’s Bones. The trajectory of the shotgun pellets suggests that whoever shot Cal was “significantly shorter than Mrs. King. I don’t think she did it.”
“Right. Thanks.” Booth stares at Mrs. King and Sweets stares at him. Booth knows who did it.
~*~*~
Booth and Bones are sitting at a table with Mr. and Mrs. King and their daughter. Bones tells her that nothing she texts or IMs is ever really gone.
“I know that,” the girl cuts back.
“Really,” Booth says, “because we checked your texts, and we found one a couple of weeks ago that’s a little weird.” He turns to bring up the texts on the monitor.
“This one’s from the night that Cal was killed,” Bones says, then reads, “’Bring it over now, parents both gone’.”
“Stop this, Richard,” Mrs. King interrupts, but her husband wants to hear it.
Booth tells him that it “turns out that, uh, Lexa here had a project due on ancient Greece?” He looks at the girl, and Bones adds, “You spent three days complaining about it. Why didn’t you just do it?”
“I didn’t want to. It was stupid,” she cuts back, glaring at them.
“Stupid? Oh, how about this one.” Booth pulls up another text and reads, “’d manny will do it! He cn’t sa no. He wrks 4 me’.” He turns back to her. “But Cal really did say no, didn’t he? Because you paid $100 to somebody else to do it for you. Someone by the name of Dakota Shearcroft?” At the dad’s response, Booth answers, “Yeah I think it’s a stupid name too.”
“So what happened?” Bones asks. “Did Cal catch you?”
“He threatened to tell the school?
“Why wouldn’t he have just told us?” Mr. King asks.
“Cal said you wouldn’t do anything,” his daughter answers smugly. “You never do.” The parents exchange a weary look as their daughter rolls her eyes. “He said I had to learn a lesson.”
“What kind of lesson?” Booth asks.
“They would have kicked me out of school! Zero tolerance.” Bones and Booth exchange a look as the girl adds, “My friends are at that school!” With no sign of remorse whatsoever, she explains, “I got the gun out of the garage and shot him.” Glancing at her mother, she falls back into the chair as if the only thing she regrets is the fact that, “Mom came home and saw.”
Booth looks at Mrs. King for an explanation, and since there’s no denying it now, she admits, “I drove the body to the country house, took it into the woods, and burned it.” Mr. King closes his eyes. Booth and Bones exchange another look.
“She’s my daughter,” Mrs. King says. “I had to protect her.”
“No you did what you always do,” her husband says gruffly. “Make everything bad go away.”
“It’s counterproductive to raise children in a world without consequences,” Bones says, and Booth adds, “Looks like little Lexa here is gonna have to come face-to-face with some pretty nasty consequences. But not the kind of consequences that you’re gonna have to face Mrs. King.”
Significant looks are passed around the room, and still Lexa doesn’t seem to think she’s done anything wrong.
~*~*~
Bones stands upstairs, looking down on her father and Parker on the floor of the lab.
“Okay Parker, this is called the candy mint soda experiment.” Max is setting up the experiment on a metal table for the little boy to see. “You can do this for your dad at home.”
“So,” Booth says, bringing Bones over a cup of coffee. “Mom copped to conspiracy to avoid trial. She’ll spend some time in prison.”
“How much?” Bones asks, taking the cup.
“Not enough.” Booth leans on the railing next to her, cup in hand. “In my opinion she ruined that little girl’s life.”
Bones sighs. “What about the little girl?”
“Removed from the family, institutionalized for a couple of years.”
Bones lets out a disgusted noise. “Then it’s back to ponies and tennis lessons?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Caroline should charger her as an adult!” Bones argues, angry and the injustice.
“She’s 11 years old, Bones.”
“Yeah, well, she’s old enough to speak Chinese.”
“Ah they don’t take that into account.” Booth shakes his head. “Man, when that little girl killed Cal Warren? She killed the best father she had.”
“Well sometimes it’s hard to appreciate what you’ve got.”
They both watch as Max tells Parker to put the mints in the tube.
“Look at him,” Booth says, watching his son in his little lab coat put the mints into the tube sitting on top of the pop bottle. “Parker’s never liked science before.”
“So, are you still thinking of sending him to Woodbury?” Bones asks of the private school.
Booth shakes his head. “I torched the application. I’m thinking there’s something to be
said for middle class.” Bones smiles, and Booth asks, “You sure he’s gonna be alright?”
“Sure,” Bones answers, watching her dad and Parker. “Well, probably.”
“Probably, like what do you mean probably? And what the hell are they doing anyways?”
“Disrupting the surface tension of a two-liter cola,” she answers.
“Right…”
Downstairs, Max asks, “Is that the last one? Alright, put it in the tube, and then we’ll both take a step back.”
“Don’t fire Max,” Booth says, leaning back on the railing. “Let him keep his job, you know, he’s a teacher, he’s not a janitor.”
“I can’t overlook the sanctity of the forensic lab, Booth.”
“Yeah, maybe you can overlook it for me.”
She turns to look at him. “For you?”
Booth thinks a second, then answers, “Yeah. Personal favor.”
“Like a partner thing?”
“Partner thing.” Booth grins and Bones can’t help but smile.
She shakes her head. “I know you Booth. You’re trying to do me a favor by telling me it’s a for you.”
“No,” he answers. “Huh-uh, I can’t afford that school. I can’t enrich Parker, not with the science thing. But you can, Max can.”
Suddenly the pop bottle explodes, sending cola shooting towards the ceiling. “Whoa!” Both Parker and Booth are impressed.
“Daddy! Daddy look what I did!” Parker calls out excitedly. “I blew it up!”
Booth nods, grinning. “Yeah I saw little man!”
Bones grins as Max ruffles Parker’s hair. “Look at my dad.”
Booth leans closer. “Look at my little boy there with your dad.”
Bones smiles. “Okay.” She sighs and finally gives in “Yes. Alright.”
“Thanks Bones.”
They both grin at each other, and she shakes her head ruefully. He’s done it again. They continue to watch Parker and Max.
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Awwww
I'm with Booth on this one. I'd much rather be raised by fun, nurturing parents who actually cared, than by staff who were being paid to do so. (Even if I could have the chance to speak Chinese and play with giant chess pieces with the latter. 
) Booth's a great dad. I love how he spends the entire episode worrying about Parker's future. And I'm glad Bones didn't fire her dad. Max is a good teacher. Plus he finally got Hodgins back to doing experiments, so yay! haha | 29 |
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