Triangles, Chapter Ten
Title: Triangles, Chapter Ten
Author: Sarah-Beth (memorysdaughter)
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Rating: PG-ish
Summary: When a Senator's husband is murdered at a school for disabled children, Booth and Bones must look at the world in new ways in order to solve the case.
Author's Note: I apologize for being away for so long! I've been really sick and have not had the energy to sit up at my computer to write, but now I'm starting to feel better and I'm writing more as well.
Chapters 1-9
Triangles
“So we eliminated the friend as a potential suspect,” Zack said. “Her letters weren’t enough conclusive evidence to indict her.”
“Yeah. Where does that leave us?” Hodgins asked, slumped over the lab table.
“I’m not quite sure. Did we have any additional suspects?”
“The Senator’s aide.”
“I thought we cleared him.”
“His brother bought a knife matching the one used to remove the victim’s hand. And the waffle iron he bought was the same brand and style as the one that gave the victim the facial burns.”
Brennan came in. “I need these new samples analyzed,” she said, and placed a box on the lab table.
“What happened with the woman, sweetie?” Angela asked.
“She’s the reason we need these new samples analyzed.”
“I’m guessing it didn’t go positively,” Zack said, lifting out samples of charred skin.
“Oh, my God!” Angela cried. “She didn’t…”
“Tox screen on those,” Booth directed, coming up behind Brennan.
“What are we looking for?” Zack wanted to know.
“Anything that would cause a woman to light herself on fire. Besides unrequited love, of course.”
“That’s not a reason to light oneself on fire,” Brennan said quietly.
“It just doesn’t make sense, Bones,” Booth said. “Why did Georgia LaLaine pick today to light herself on fire? Right after Mark Kirkpatrick’s death?”
“I don’t think there was anything…”
Booth’s phone rang. “Special Agent Booth.”
His brow furrowed as he listened intensely. “Yes. Yes. We’ll be right there. No. Don’t move anything.”
When he hung up, he turned to Brennan. “We’ve got to go. Apparently Ruby Kalefsky just threw up a key.”
Maryam and Adam Kalefsky lived on a quiet, middle-class suburban street. Their house was at the far end of the street, a rambling blue Victorian with a scraggly lawn and several dead plants on the porch. A bright green minivan with two Muth School bumper stickers was parked in the gravel driveway.
A tall, dark-haired man answered the door with a harried, frantic look on his face. “Special Agent Booth? I’m Adam. Come in, come in,” he said quickly. “She’s in the dining room.”
Maryam was kneeling on the floor, her arms around Ruby’s waist. The girl was screaming, her keening voice high-pitched and eerie. “There!” Maryam said, and pointed.
A short distance away, underneath one of the dining room chairs, was a puddle of vomit. Brennan took a pair of gloves from her kit and bent down next to it.
“She just got irritated!” Maryam said loudly, trying to be heard over Ruby’s screams. “And I went in to see what was going on, and she just vomited.”
“She used to throw up all the time,” Adam said. “And we thought she had stopped that for good… I guess we were wrong.”
Brennan held up a small silver key. “Have you ever seen this key before?”
Maryam shook her head. “No.”
“When could she have swallowed a key?”
“Any time today,” Adam answered. “She was at school all day today, and then she’s been playing alone in the living room since we came back from your office.”
“But you don’t recognize the key?”
“No.”
“Okay. We’ll try to figure out where it came from.”
“Do you think it’s related to the case?” Maryam asked, looking worried.
“We won’t know until we identify it,” Booth said, “but we’ll let you know.”
“You should probably take her to the emergency room,” Brennan added, “just in case there’s any esophagus damage from vomiting up the key.”
Adam nodded. “We’ll do that. We were planning on that anyway, but we wanted to wait until you got here.”
Brennan put the key into a plastic evidence bag.
“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Kalefsky,” Booth said. “We’ll be in touch.”
“I just wanted you to know,” Maryam said, “that Mark Kirkpatrick was a good guy.”
“Maryam,” Adam hissed.
“He was, Adam, and you know it!” She turned to Booth and Brennan. “He was a good guy. Dedicated and gentle. Folks are going to tell you that he was a gambler, and that there was some incident with a little girl a few years ago, but he was a good man. And I know he would never hurt anybody. Will you put that in your report?”
“If it turns out to be a part of the investigation, I promise you we will,” Booth said.
Ruby stopped screaming suddenly, apparently worn out. She slumped against Maryam. “Bad man,” she said softly. “Bad man gone away.”
Author: Sarah-Beth (memorysdaughter)
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Rating: PG-ish
Summary: When a Senator's husband is murdered at a school for disabled children, Booth and Bones must look at the world in new ways in order to solve the case.
Author's Note: I apologize for being away for so long! I've been really sick and have not had the energy to sit up at my computer to write, but now I'm starting to feel better and I'm writing more as well.
Chapters 1-9
Triangles
“So we eliminated the friend as a potential suspect,” Zack said. “Her letters weren’t enough conclusive evidence to indict her.”
“Yeah. Where does that leave us?” Hodgins asked, slumped over the lab table.
“I’m not quite sure. Did we have any additional suspects?”
“The Senator’s aide.”
“I thought we cleared him.”
“His brother bought a knife matching the one used to remove the victim’s hand. And the waffle iron he bought was the same brand and style as the one that gave the victim the facial burns.”
Brennan came in. “I need these new samples analyzed,” she said, and placed a box on the lab table.
“What happened with the woman, sweetie?” Angela asked.
“She’s the reason we need these new samples analyzed.”
“I’m guessing it didn’t go positively,” Zack said, lifting out samples of charred skin.
“Oh, my God!” Angela cried. “She didn’t…”
“Tox screen on those,” Booth directed, coming up behind Brennan.
“What are we looking for?” Zack wanted to know.
“Anything that would cause a woman to light herself on fire. Besides unrequited love, of course.”
“That’s not a reason to light oneself on fire,” Brennan said quietly.
“It just doesn’t make sense, Bones,” Booth said. “Why did Georgia LaLaine pick today to light herself on fire? Right after Mark Kirkpatrick’s death?”
“I don’t think there was anything…”
Booth’s phone rang. “Special Agent Booth.”
His brow furrowed as he listened intensely. “Yes. Yes. We’ll be right there. No. Don’t move anything.”
When he hung up, he turned to Brennan. “We’ve got to go. Apparently Ruby Kalefsky just threw up a key.”
Maryam and Adam Kalefsky lived on a quiet, middle-class suburban street. Their house was at the far end of the street, a rambling blue Victorian with a scraggly lawn and several dead plants on the porch. A bright green minivan with two Muth School bumper stickers was parked in the gravel driveway.
A tall, dark-haired man answered the door with a harried, frantic look on his face. “Special Agent Booth? I’m Adam. Come in, come in,” he said quickly. “She’s in the dining room.”
Maryam was kneeling on the floor, her arms around Ruby’s waist. The girl was screaming, her keening voice high-pitched and eerie. “There!” Maryam said, and pointed.
A short distance away, underneath one of the dining room chairs, was a puddle of vomit. Brennan took a pair of gloves from her kit and bent down next to it.
“She just got irritated!” Maryam said loudly, trying to be heard over Ruby’s screams. “And I went in to see what was going on, and she just vomited.”
“She used to throw up all the time,” Adam said. “And we thought she had stopped that for good… I guess we were wrong.”
Brennan held up a small silver key. “Have you ever seen this key before?”
Maryam shook her head. “No.”
“When could she have swallowed a key?”
“Any time today,” Adam answered. “She was at school all day today, and then she’s been playing alone in the living room since we came back from your office.”
“But you don’t recognize the key?”
“No.”
“Okay. We’ll try to figure out where it came from.”
“Do you think it’s related to the case?” Maryam asked, looking worried.
“We won’t know until we identify it,” Booth said, “but we’ll let you know.”
“You should probably take her to the emergency room,” Brennan added, “just in case there’s any esophagus damage from vomiting up the key.”
Adam nodded. “We’ll do that. We were planning on that anyway, but we wanted to wait until you got here.”
Brennan put the key into a plastic evidence bag.
“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Kalefsky,” Booth said. “We’ll be in touch.”
“I just wanted you to know,” Maryam said, “that Mark Kirkpatrick was a good guy.”
“Maryam,” Adam hissed.
“He was, Adam, and you know it!” She turned to Booth and Brennan. “He was a good guy. Dedicated and gentle. Folks are going to tell you that he was a gambler, and that there was some incident with a little girl a few years ago, but he was a good man. And I know he would never hurt anybody. Will you put that in your report?”
“If it turns out to be a part of the investigation, I promise you we will,” Booth said.
Ruby stopped screaming suddenly, apparently worn out. She slumped against Maryam. “Bad man,” she said softly. “Bad man gone away.”