Bones (2005–2017): Season 3, Episode 4 - The Secret in the Soil - full transcript

A charred body leads to a philandering organic farming magnate.

Okay, Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth.

Together. A little closer.

Okay. Yeah. That's
perfect. Beautiful.

Now keeping your backs straight,

- I want you each
to lean forward.
- No.

Excuse me? Come on, Booth.

I'm sure this is just one of
those meaningless exercises...

meant to illustrate the importance
of supporting each other.

We agreed to see
another therapist,

not be action figures
for a 12-year-old.

I'm 22, Agent Booth.

I have a doctorate in psychology
from the University of Pennsylvania...

where my dissertation on the
effects of job stress was published...

That's great. I'm sure Mom's
really proud of you, Sweets.

Dr. Sweets, or Lance, you know, if
you're more comfortable with informality.

But I'd prefer out of respect for each
other and the process of psychotherapy,

that we at least try to, uh...

Sign the forms so I can get out of
this suit and I can have a Saturday night.

I don't care how young you are.

I've never believed
in psychotherapy.

Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan,
this isn't a game.

The F.B.I. is considering
severing your partnership.

What? Why?

Why? Dude, you
arrested her father.

He was just doing his
job. Yeah, but come on.

He, like... He
arrested your father!

He's gonna have to be
a witness against him.

Circumstances such as these
tend to stir up a lot of scary feelings.

I don't have "scary feelings."

Maybe you need a little
night-light at night to sleep.

Agent Booth, you've been trying to intimidate
me since the moment you stepped in here.

And you've succeeded.

Don't scare the boy, Booth.

Now I need you both to,
uh, fill out... He's a little...

These questionnaires
and get 'em back to me.

Don't share your answers.

Uh, it'll help me evaluate...

whether Dr. Brennan's services
should be assigned to a new agent.

- That's not gonna happen.
- Like it or not, Agent Booth,

I'm the therapist in
charge of this case.

So I suggest that we work in
cooperation rather than conflict.

I can cooperate.

Good. Agent Booth?

I'm still gonna call you Sweets.


It's some kind of
personality test.

I can't believe he gave us
homework. You know, probably his.

What kind of kid works
on a Saturday night?

Oh, that's my fault. I told him I
wasn't available during the week.

Well, why'd you go and do that, you
know? I had seats right behind the dugout.


Ah! Don't look on my paper!

Okay. Yeah. Got it.

Well, there's only one thing more fun
than, uh, therapy on a Saturday night.

And that's a dead body.

Look at all the cars. I thought
the V.A. hospital was closed.

Well, it is, Bones.
But I mean, come on.

It's the weekend. All right?

An abandoned building surrounded
by acres of secluded land. Huh?

Use your imagination.

Teenagers. Hormones.

You're saying they're
here to fornicate. Yes.

Nice image. Very, uh, Biblical.

These two were on their way to a
romantic encounter under the stars...

and literally tripped
over the remains.

I'm guessing that
killed the mood.

I've got patchy tissue.

But this level of
decomp... Whoa!

Pushes things
into your territory.

I haven't touched it yet.
Definitely not homeless.

Nice watch, good shoes.
At least what's left of them.

Male, middle-aged.

Level of decomp would suggest
he's been out here a few weeks, but...

I don't get it. Kids come in here every
night. And they're just noticing him now?

- Dumped at the top of the hill?
- And he rolled down?

That would explain the amount of
fresh mud and leaves on the body.

These bones are still greasy. Did
you take an internal temperature?

With this degree of
decomp, why would it matter?

Maybe he hasn't been
dead as long as he looks.

The body is still
radiating a lot of heat.

- Wow, you're not kidding.
- We used to use
the local golf course.

I remember taking Marianne
Molano to the ninth-hole sand trap.

She had long hair all
the way back to her...

You are so gonna
regret telling this story.

Okay. Now, what do you got?

127 degrees?

Wow. That's really not normal.

No. That's way past
"really not normal."

- You're saying that before
the body was dumped, it was...
- Cooked.

- Cooked?
- Cooked.

Has it occurred to either of you this might
be another victim in the Widow's Son case?

Based on what? Because the
victim is cooked like an entrée.

- Same as that guy in Germany.
- There's no evidence here
to suggest cannibalism.

No bite marks. No condiments.

We have a bullet hole in
the sternum, Dr. Brennan.

What guy in Germany?
Ran a computer ad online.

Said he was looking
for someone to eat.

There's an excessive amount of
mud and debris from the dump site.

Makes it difficult to get
a clear view of the injury.

Yeah, tell me about it. I have
to separate and distinguish...

particulates and insects from
the body's original location.

People actually replied
to the ad? Oh, yeah.

- Guy ended up feasting
on a computer engineer.
- That's extremely disturbing.

Well, hello, my exotic princess.

What a charmingly inappropriate
greeting, Dr. Hodgins.

I think he's talking to a bug.

Well, now I feel
a bit... rejected.

Looks like something
from the Nitidulidae family.

Where did you come from,
you gorgeous creature?

And do you have any friends?

Boy, he melted like ice
cream on a hot summer day.

So, when do I get
my turn with him?

Oh, we should be
finished within 20 minutes.

Excellent. Wow. I'm finding
a large concentration...

of bristletails and harvester
ants dead by the victim's feet.

- That is odd.
- The guy was cooked, Hodgins.

"Odd" is kind of
a relative term.


Angela called, and
she wanted me to...

Hey, is that the test
from Dr. Sweets?

Yes. What'd you put
for number seven?

Because I put 12
to 15 times a day.

And now I'm thinking I really
misunderstood the question.

We're not supposed
to discuss our answers.

Come on, Bones. The teacher's
not in the room. Let me see.

Is this how you got
through school, Booth?

No. Well, maybe algebra. But...

Hey, Booth. I got your I.D.

Franklin Curtis, age 54.

His wife, Margie, reported
him missing yesterday.

Oh, Augusta County. He was rich.

Yeah. Founder of the Natural
Sun Organic Supermarket chain.

There's one near my apartment.
Excellent selection of local produce.

Totally overpriced.
A carrot is a carrot.

Hey, it's worth it. Organic.
There's no pesticides.

It's from sustainable farms. Every time that
I buy something there, I feel so virtuous.

Guy started off with a single
roadside produce stand...

which he grew into a
nationwide supermarket chain.

- An organic capitalist.
- Ambition like that is bound
to create a few enemies.

I tested fabric samples
from the victim's pants.

They were covered
with chloropicrin.

Why the pinchy face, Bones?

Franklin Curtis built his whole career
on organic produce. And chloropicrin...

Is a pesticide.

I was at a yoga retreat
with my daughter.

When Frank didn't answer
the phone, I got worried.

Here, Mom. Ignatia imara.

It's a homeopathic
remedy for grief.

When we came home, there was
a cup of herbal tea on the counter...

as if he'd just... stepped
out for a moment.

I noticed the fields as we drove
in. You still operate the farm?

No matter how big
the business got,

Dad always wanted to
remember how it all started.

Your farm, it's certified
organic, correct?

- No pesticides,
besides natural predators?
- Of course.

Your husband, was he having any
personal problems, recent arguments?

No. Everybody loved Frank.

- Mom?
- Your dad was a wonderful man.

My dad was kind of obsessed.

He'd pressure conventional
farmers to go organic.

"Pressure" makes it sound so...

He was an extremely
generous man.

He offered to support them financially
while they made the transition.

What if a farmer
didn't want to switch?

Dad would turn things
over to his lawyers.

They'd find some legal loophole.
Property taxes, zoning, who knows.

Eventually, Dad
would just buy them out.

And he'd force
people off their land?

I see.

Any farmers he was
trying to convert?

Yeah, Mr. Harding?
Something I can help you with?

Yeah. F.B.I. Special
Agent Seeley Booth.

This here's my partner,
Dr. Temperance Brennan.

We'd like to ask you a few
questions about Franklin Curtis.

You can tell that son of a
bitch that the only crop...

that will ever grow
on this land is tobacco.

I don't give a crap how many suits
he sends over here to scare me.

He didn't send us, Mr. Harding.
Franklin Curtis is dead.

Well, I wish I could
muster up some remorse.

Wow. No love loss
between the two of you, I see.

The man was trying to
kick me off of my own land.

My family's been on this
farm for over 150 years.

Tobacco built this country.

Yet these self-righteous eco-hippies have
the nerve to look down their nose at us!

- Did you see Frank
last Thursday?
- Not that I can recall.

Really? Because Virginia
Pesticide Control Board reports...

that you registered an application of
chloropicrin to your field last Thursday.

Same day Frank disappeared. So?

It's a fumigant insecticide.
It's perfectly legal.

- It was all over
Frank's clothing.
- All... over.

Okay, he did come over.

He said he was giving me one last
chance before he started playing dirty.

I was spraying the fields. I may have
accidentally aimed the chem hose at him.

"Accidentally?" Look. I swear
I wasn't trying to hurt him.

I just wanted him off my
property. You understand?

Who the hell was he to
take my land from me?


I'm just saying the
guy had a point.

If pesticides are so bad for us, then
how come people live longer now...

than they did before
they used pesticides?

You're oversimplifying an
enormously complex issue.

Meaning you don't
have a good answer.

The arguments in favor of organic
farming aren't just about food safety.

They're about
prevention of soil erosion,

protection of water quality, carbon
emissions from shipping, not to mention...

Whatever. You know what? You're not gonna
see me paying four dollars for a tomato.

You know, a researcher
at the University of Florida...

proved that alligators who swim
in pesticide-contaminated waters...

have smaller genitalia than
their clean-water counterparts.

No way. Way.

See? Right there.

There's some kind of pattern
on what's left of the skin tissue.

I'm hoping a more artistic eye
than mine can make sense of it.

Regular circular
shapes, cross-hatching.

I'd say button marks. Like
buttons from the victim's shirt...

were pressed into his
flesh while he decomposed.

Yes. That's exactly
what they are.

Glad to help.

Here's the thing though.

Our victim's clothing
doesn't have any buttons.

Yeah, and this whole
environmental footprint thing.

Right? I mean, why
shouldn't I leave a footprint?

I'm here, right? Hey, why should I
have fewer rights than any other species?

Hey, Bones, you know, we're
having a lively discussion here.

Tobacco has to be cured.
Yeah, I know. And it kills you.

We're on the same
side with that one.

Curing at tobacco farms is done in
curing barns using indirect fired burners.

Wow. So if Frank's body
were in Harding's curing barn,

that would explain
how it got cooked.



That should be enough to get
a warrant to search the farm.

- There's what?
- Skin slippage.

Our victim was pressed
up against another body.

And during whatever heating
process the two went through,

the second corpse's tissue
basically melted onto our victim.

Uh, thanks. What? You got
big news from the nerd posse?

When we search the tobacco farm, we'll
be looking for more than the murder site.

We'll be looking
for a second victim.

- I'm making lemonade.
- Lemonade?

It's awful hot today.

It's an intrusion, Elizabeth. Not a
garden party. Agent Booth, ma'am.

Elizabeth Harding.
Pleasure to meet you.

- Listen, we won't be
any longer than we have to.
- Shame about Mr. Curtis.

- Uh, we don't have to talk
to them, Elizabeth.
- Don't mind Mr. Grouchy.

Did you know Mr. Curtis
personally? Oh, of course.

Although maybe not as personally
as he might have liked. Elizabeth!

How's that? Andy
didn't tell you?

Oh, he gets so jealous. No
reason. Looks aren't everything.

Mr. Curtis was a big flirt.
Always making passes at me.

- It didn't seem relevant.
- And right under
his poor wife's nose too.

Fool thought he could get me
to convince Andy to sell the farm.

- Elizabeth!
- Oh, don't you start again.

When I told Andy, I don't think
I have ever seen him so mad.

What a temper you have.
Thank you, Mrs. Harding.

You have been very
helpful. Tell Andy.

He doesn't think I
can do anything right.

So, how many lemonades?

Oh. How many lemonades?

Make a pitcher. Great.

I put solar panels on my house,
compact fluorescents in every socket...

and still feel guilty when
I use a paper napkin.

I've been looking at
low-impact housing.

I saw a freestanding house
that was 118 square feet.

This entry to the sternum might
not be a bullet hole. Wait, wait, wait.

118 square feet? Dude, that's
smaller than the janitor's closet.

There's room for a bed, kitchen
on one wall, and a small bathroom.

I really don't see why we need more. Isn't the
goal to reduce our impact on the environment?

Our lives aren't only about function. We
are allowed to enjoy ourselves occasionally.

- That's why I work.
- Yes! Finally identified
my mystery bug.

Carpophilus nitidulidae.
King of the lab.

It's an agricultural pest
found on pineapple plants.

Agent Booth? There's nothing.
The curing shed is clean.

But the body was cooked. And
there should be another body too.

- Not here.
- More lemonade?

Yes, please. No, no, no.
Just go back inside and check.

I'll take half a glass. Thanks.


He was around pineapple plants
at the time of his death. Pineapples?

Hodgins found insect activity
that's only found on pineapple plants.

But the closest place they're
grown commercially is Florida.

You're saying that the body
was moved from Florida?

I don't have an explanation.
I'm just giving you the facts.

I found this article about
the environmental impact...

caused by transporting
crops over long distances.

It mentions this
farmer in Virginia...

who was trying to grow
tropical crops in a hothouse.

- Like pineapples.
- Like pineapples.



Boy, sorry to hear about Frank.

He was a good man. Big supporter
of what I'm trying to do here.

- All right, Mr. Page...
- Please, call me Lyndon.

- You ever eat a pineapple
the same day it was picked?
- Actually no. And...

Let me make you each
a smoothie. That's okay.

- I'd love one.
- Frank Curtis ever visit
your hothouse?

Once, back
when I first built it.

He had some advice on how
to maximize my sun exposure.

- What... What's he doing?
- He's powering the blender.

The wheel rim is
attached to a generator.

- This is rather ingenious.
- Stay fit and save energy. Everyone should do this.

I'm sure it'll catch on. So you and
Frank, you ever have any problems?

No. Never.

Probably helped that I didn't
have a wife for him to flirt with.

Seems Frank had a habit of
hitting on other people's wives.

All great men have their foibles. Well,
go ahead and check out the hothouse.

I'll bring these out as
soon as they're done.

Frank Curtis's wife stood to gain
the most from her husband's death.

If she found out that
he was cheating...

But you said her alibi is solid.

Well, it doesn't mean we
can't, you know, double-check.

I bet Sweets was picked
on all through school.

And that's relevant now,
why? You're kidding me, right?

Scrawny kid like that sees
me coming, a former jock,

and he's thinking to himself,
"Time for a little payback."

You know? Make him fill
out all those stupid forms.

Threatens to take my
partner away from me.

These tubs are too
small to fit anything.

We're not gonna find the second
victim here. You know what? You're right.

So what do you
say we go check...

Bones, was that you?

Was what me? That smell.

I don't know what you're talking
about. Why don't girls just admit it?

It's a natural bodily
function. You're a scientist.

Booth, I don't...
That had to be you.

It wasn't me. He
who smelt it, dealt it!

How do you even know that
phrase? Ooh! Sorry about that smell.

Guess I left the vents open. Community
composting facility's about a mile away.

But when the winds blow westerly,
it smells like it's around the corner.

Do you take agricultural
wastes to the composting facility?

Sure. Almost ever organic farmer in
the county does. It's a great program.

You give them your
waste. And in return,

they give you certified organic
compost at a fraction of the cost.

I wasn't done with that. I have an
idea. Thank you very much, Lyndon.

Your smoothies are excellent. Hey,
hey, hey. You have any to-go cups?

The road to the apocalypse is paved
with disposable food containers, my friend.

Compost, of course. The
identifying organisms...

would have started dying as soon as
the body was removed from the heap.

But how high do the
temperatures get?

Inside a large compost
heap? As high as 170 degrees.

That's hot enough
to cook a body.

And if Lyndon contributes
his waste to the pile,

that could explain why the
pineapple beetle was there.

Hey, you guys going to
check out a large compost pile?

That's wrong how
excited he sounds.


If you have any problems,
let me know. All right?

We've got five people
on staff full time.

But there's 43 farmers with
keys to the gates. You all right?

Yeah. No, just the smell.

We probably got a couple of masks
in the office if you two want me to go.

I'm fine. Agent Booth
tends to be squeamish.

Look, I'm... I'm fine, okay?
So you're saying 43 farmers?

They're welcome to
dump their own waste.

Otherwise, we schedule a pickup
with our truck when it's, uh, running.

Oh, it's ripe! Hey, Gavin.

Oh, Tim Peck, Clay Ansley.
Couple of our local farmers.

This is Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan.
They're here about Frank.

The truck stopped running again,
Gavin. I think it needs a new fuel filter.

- I replaced it two weeks ago.
- When I switched
to bio-diesel,

I went through at
least four fuel filters.

It's a conversion. Loosens up
the deposits. You work here?

Yes, sir. Charlie Rogan.

- Did you know Frank Curtis?
- Very well.

I only just heard
what happened to him.

I dated his daughter
all through high school.

Gavin introduced us.

If there's anything I can do.
Mr. Curtis was a great man.

Yeah. - Oh, you disagree?

Frank Curtis was in it for
the money, not the cause.

Then why did he donate his entire estate to
environmental groups? We're talking millions.

Even our co-op could see some.
You ever been to his house?

4,000 square feet?
Brand new everything?

Left his air conditioner on all the time.
Fat lot that man cared about the environment.

Don't mind him. Smell out here
always puts him in a foul mood.

Look, I'm gonna need names
and addresses of every employee.

God. And a list of
participating farmers.

And the facility has to be closed
until all the compost is searched.

We can get a
warrant if you want.

I do.

Two independent people
often find themselves...

- Agent Booth,
are you listening?
- What?

The judge will call when the warrant
is issued, Booth. Pay attention.

I'm in the middle of an
investigation. I get distracted.

It's not my investigation too? It's
too early in the morning for this.

No, no, no. This is good.
Let's talk about conflict.

- When you guys argue, how do
you come to a resolution?
- We don't argue.

- Come on. Remember? Zone of truth right here.
- Fine.

We might... bicker a little
bit. But that's not arguing.

- Bicker? I don't bicker.
- No? What about the whole
environmentalism thing?

That was a discussion.

You pretty much told me my penis was
gonna shrink if I didn't eat organic food.

That's not bickering.
That's being a good friend.

My penis is just fine, thank you.
Now we're getting somewhere.

I think we're in
that truth zone.

Stop with the whole truth zone thing.
Bones and I are trying to catch a guy...

who cooked a tree hugger, so
just score the personality test...

so we can get back
to crime fighting.

Yeah, that's good, Agent Booth.
Now let the anger lead you to the fear.

You can't be whole, you
can't do your job to its fullest,

unless you get in touch
with that fear you feel.

Now Dr. Brennan and I
are gonna close our eyes.

Follow the anger.

All right, feel it?
Feel it softening?

You feel that?

Very mature, guys.

Uh, gotta run, Sweets. Got
the call. Let's boogie, Bones.

And, um, look, next time
you really should tell me...

if there's gonna be
an essay on the test.

I just got off the phone with
Hodgins. He's knee-deep in compost.

He must be happy. Happy as
a pig in... what pigs like to be in.

A sty? You said you
had things to show me?

From the injuries, it
appears there was a struggle.

You can see the bruising and fresh hairline
fractures on the femurs and left ulna.

Consistent with defensive wounds?
That would be my assessment.

- So there was a fight
before he was shot?
- He wasn't shot.

- I thought you said
it was a bullet hole.
- I was mistaken.

It occasionally happens.

The hole is actually a congenital
abnormality. A sternal foramen.

So we're back to no known
cause of death? Not quite.

I found multiple puncture
wounds with hinge fracturing...

on the scapula and posterior
aspects of several ribs.

He was stabbed? By what?

I'm working on it.
Okay, then. Enjoy.

Oh, God. I'm never
gonna get over that smell.

This place is awesome! The thermophilic
bacteria content is off of the charts.

No security cameras. Too
high-tech for the granola crowd.

That means we have about a
hundred suspects. Are you coming in?

No. That's your thing. And I'd just
mess things up if I come up there.

Whoa. Oh. I just heard a crunch.

Definitely not plant life.

I'd love to try
this feeding fungi.

- It's adipocere.
- Is that good or bad?

Good for us, bad for the victim.

Female. Probably
in her early 20s.

If we attribute rapid decomposition to the
microbial activity of the compost pile...

She's been dead about
the same time as Curtis.

Even dead, Frank was
lying with another woman.

These three phalanges
still have some tissue.

And fingernails.

I may be able to get some
scrapings. Maybe even a print.

Calliphoridae didn't
have a chance to oviposit.

She must've been buried in the
compost just hours after she died.

Can you pinpoint how long it would
take for her to reach this level of decomp?

Given the carbon-to-nitrogen
ratio of the compost I sampled,

she's been in there
since last Wednesday.

Meaning she died
the day before Frank?

Who catches two people
cheating but kills them a day apart?

My sketch isn't matching any
of the missing women on file.

Maybe no one's missed
her yet. Poor thing.

Everybody should be missed.
Oh, you are such an angel.

I will get a bucket of
cold water, I swear.

There's perimortem
trauma to the skull.

But it's not severe enough to cause
death. I also found multiple broken ribs.

And the sternum is
severely fractured.

- Somebody tried to crush her?
- No.

These injuries are consistent with inexpert
use of cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

Somebody tried to save her.

The woman you
found, who was she?

Well, we were hoping
you might know.

I told you I was out
of town. I have no idea.

But you were aware that your
husband wasn't always faithful?

Yes, I was.

Yet you stayed
with him. I get it.

Big house,
comfortable lifestyle.

I stayed with Frank because I
loved him. I accepted his faults.

I'm sure you'll accept the
life insurance money too.

I'm not even thinking about money,
Agent Booth. How can you even...

My husband hasn't even been
dead for a week. I'm aware of that.

Since you were so forgiving
of your husband's infidelity,

why didn't you mention
that in our first conversation?

Kat. I couldn't do
that to our daughter.

She idolized Frank.

I can't ruin that,
especially now. Mom?

Mrs. Curtis, I...

I came over to tell you
and Kat how sorry I am.

Gavin said he'd try
to stop over later.

I didn't mean to interrupt.

No. Charlie, it's okay.
Stay. Mom, I knew.

Since high school. Charlie
knew. All my classmates knew.

- Oh, God.
- Come on, Kat. Not now.

I pretended that I didn't.

For you.

Okay, so Margie said
Frank kept an office in town.

Turns out that office
was an apartment.

Where he took his
women. Yeah. Okay, Bones.

That's right. Come on.
Let's go to the apartment.

I used that device once in one of my
novels, and my editor thought it was trite.

Maybe it was Frank's take on being environmentally
friendly, making a friendly environment.

Get it? Apparently not.


You know, I really
hate these gloves.

No. No sign of forced entry.

These sunglass frames are made
of bamboo. Well, is that weird?

Well, most frames are made of
metal or plastic, sometimes vinyl.

Maybe they belonged to
the Eco-Avenger. Who?

Frank. Toiletries in the bathroom,
bra hanging over the shower rod.

Definitely a woman living here.

Dried blood on the coffee table.

I'll just call Forensics
and have the place swept.

- Send everything to the...
- To the Jeffersonian. Yep, got it.

- Including the whole...
- Yeah, the entire
coffee table.

Here. Here we go. Take-out
receipt from, uh, two weeks ago.

Hop Lee's Chinese Kitchen. The
name on the credit card... Emma Billings.

Booth? Yeah?

I think we've found
our second victim.

Emma Billings.

She has an interior superior
margin fracture to the C5 vertebrae.

What about the posterior
half of the vertebral body?

Any linked sagittal
fractures? Yes.

So, if she fell...

and hit her head on the
coffee table at this angle,

that could account for
the broken vertebrae.

It's a statistically
rare possibility,

but one that would
have killed her instantly.

F.B.I. sent over some
info on our latest victim.

She was a cashier at one of Franklin
Curtis's Natural Sun Markets in New Jersey.

- How did she end up in Virginia?
- They think she was hiding.

Earlier this year, she accused
one of her coworkers of stalking her.

- Check him out.
- I wouldn't want him
following me.

I know, right? Guy's
name is Noel Liftin.

He was fired. Emma
filed a restraining order.

Booth's trying to track him down.
Any progress on time of death?

It appears to have
been accidental.

That would explain the C.P.R. But
Frank was stabbed multiple times.

Right. Not so accidental.

- Hey, Booth.
- What about the murder weapon
used on Frank? Find anything?

These puncture wounds... I still can't
find any weapon this small and curved.

They're close together. He
didn't seem to move much.

Which is odd because
the wounds appear deep.

Okay, call me after. Booth
found Emma's stalker.

He's been staying at a motel right across
the street from where Emma was killed.

Don't look at me like that. You can't
arrest me for renting a motel room.

I didn't break any laws.

I followed her, okay? But the
motel room is over 150 feet...

from Emma's apartment
building... I measured.

I guess I got no reason to suspect
you. You were just keeping an eye on her.

I was. Yeah.

- Frank Curtis.
- Who?

- Frank Curtis. He's the one. You should talk to him.
- Frank Curtis. Okay.

He treated Emma like he
owned her. It was so messed up.

Wow, the reflections on this
table, the patterns are beautiful.

Noel? Focus.

Frank Curtis. Oh, sure.

Frank comes in for one of his regional
visits and has the manager hire Emma.

Then next time he comes in, he
can see that Emma is falling for me.

So he has me fired. And then tells
Emma to take out a restraining order.

And the fact that you
called her 20 times a day...

and slept in her driveway,
that had nothing to do with it?

I guess you've
never been in love.

Where were you last
Wednesday and Thursday?

Mostly I just stay in my motel room. You
know, keep an eye on Emma's building.

Only times I ever leave is to go
out and, you know, sell my products.

- Your products?
- Hemp oil-based body products.

I make 'em myself.
There's a surprise.

Guess you're telling me
you don't have an alibi.

I reviewed the forensic
samples from the apartment.

Traces of triglycerides,

and free fatty acids on both
the carpeting and the furniture.

Looks like some vegetable oil.

Could it be hemp oil? Booth said
the person stalking Emma Billings...

sells hemp-based body products.

Yeah. That's one possibility. Reexamine
any clothing from Frank and Emma's bodies.

See if you can find additional
traces of the oil. Okay.

Dr. Brennan? I need
you to see something.

Fracturing to Emma's sternum
concealed a malformation...

that became apparent
once I finished reconstruction.

A sternal foramen.

Emma Billings and Frank Curtis
both shared a congenital abnormality.

When Zack told me his findings,
I decided to run D.N.A. tests...

on the tissue samples
from both victims.

Multiple matching R.F.L.P.s.
Our victims were related.

If our murderer thought he killed
Emma and her lover, he was very wrong.

He killed Emma and her father.

I've tested over 40 different
knives, ice picks, leather awls.

I couldn't find a murder
weapon to match.

With decomp and postmortem trauma from being
rolled down the hill, it's very difficult.

Okay, this will help you visualize
the pattern of the wounds.

Usually I can determine the weapon.
This is a very frustrating murderer.

I'm sure he'll apologize
when we catch him.

There are five puncture
wounds to Frank's chest.

The result of repeated stabs by an
unknown and very frustrating object.

Perhaps not. What if Frank
Curtis had broader shoulders?

Angela, move the
scapulae apart slowly.

A little more.

The wounds become equidistant.

You're probably looking
for an instrument...

with multiple sharp pointed
objects projecting from it.

- A pitchfork.
- How'd you get pitchfork?

These three wounds mark the termination
of a three tine pitchfork's penetration.

Makes sense.

I'll go match the
exact type and make.

I got results from the
clothes. You were right.

Same vegetable oil on both
Frank and Emma's clothing.

But I found a high concentration of
methanol and sodium hydroxide mixed in.

So the oil isn't
from body products.

No. It's from bio-diesel fuel.

So your suspect is going to give
me a description of your suspect.

I'm not following. Yeah, the stoned,
hippie guy. He's all we have so far.

He'll tell you what the guy looks like who
went into Emma's place, and then you draw.

I've never really found
stoned guys that dependable.

Except for cookies. They
always have good cookies.

You're grasping at straws, Booth.
We should wait for more information.

Has to be somebody in
the composting facility.

They have pitchforks to
turn the heaps, don't they?

Pitchforks are used on
every farm in the area.

But not bio-diesel,
okay? The owner, Gavin,

said he just replaced a fuel pump on
his truck when he switched to bio-diesel.

One of the other farmers also
said that he'd just switched.

And he has a key. He could have
dumped the body in the middle of the night.

I'm sorry, but whose side are
you on here? Don't say "the facts."

- Because that annoys me.
- You want us to base our
actions on your gut again?

Yes. You have your shiny
machines. I have my gut.

Is it always like this when
you two are together?

Yes. No.

It's kinda hot.

What the hell is he doing?

It's a Vedic chant.

All right, Noel. Let's
go. On your feet.

A bass player taught it to me.
I'm trying to calm myself, man.

Emma's dead, and I'm innocent. How
many times do I have to tell you that?

All right, Noel!

I just want to ask you some
more questions. That's all.

Who are the chicks?

Hey! Be respectful. Be a
gentleman. Let's go. Up, up, up.

Ow! Come on. There you go.

That's it. Okay. This
here is Dr. Brennan.

Angela Montenegro.
She's an artist.

Cool. Yeah, groovy.

Did you see a truck parked outside
Emma's apartment building last Wednesday?

How would I know? I mean,
it's not like I kept a log...

of everyone going in
and out of the building.

Noel, you're the primary
suspect in Emma's murder.

So if you do not cooperate, you're looking at
20 solid years keeping tabs on your cell mate.

All right, fine. I
remember a truck.

Had a cool logo from some
organic composting place.

We need to know who was driving the
truck and if he went into Emma's building.

You think I have bionic
vision or something? No.

But you got binoculars.
They're in every starter stalker kit.

- So give Angela
something to draw.
- I like artists.

I'll crush you like a bug, dude.

- Describe the guy.
- Uh, he's a young dude. Maybe 26.

About my height, average.

Kind of buff. You
know, Caucasian.

Brown hair. He was
wearing sunglasses.

Kinda looked like they were
made out of wood or something.

Far out, huh? Wood.

Hey, do you guys have
medical marijuana in D.C.?

Because I get anxiety attacks.

Noel, give Angela
something to draw.

Um, okay. He had
a, uh, square jaw,

um, straight nose,
uh, cute ears.

Charlie Rogan got 'em from Frank
Curtis. Why? What's going on?

Why did Frank give
Charlie a pair of sunglasses?

No real reason. Frank wore
'em one day to pick up compost.

Charlie admired them, so Frank
gave them to him. He was like that.

Can you think of any reason why
Charlie would want Frank dead?

Of course not. He's a
good kid. He loved Frank.

- This is the murder weapon.
- There you go.

- Bag it.
- Seems like Charlie and Frank
had a thing for the same girl.

Charlie gets jealous, he
gets into a fight with the girl.

Kills her. And then he goes after Frank.
Story as old as time, my compost friend.

Need something, Gavin? Yeah.
Charles Rogan, you're under arrest...

for the murder of Frank
Curtis and Emma Billings.

God, no. This
isn't what you think.

Gavin, I didn't. I
swear, I didn't...

Don't. Don't say
a word, Charlie.

Gavin... Cam, we've got the
murder weapon used on Frank Curtis.

Plus evidence linking Charlie
to the scene of Emma's murder.

Yeah. Well, I hate to
throw ants in your picnic,

but I recovered D.N.A. from
beneath Emma's fingernails.

Charlie Rogan didn't attack Emma
Billings. Her assailant was female.

What is it? Charlie
didn't kill Emma.

- What? He was there.
- But there's more. I noticed
some odd similarities.

So I compared Emma's own
D.N.A. to that of her attacker.

There was a 25%
commonality. Half sisters.

It was Kat Curtis.
She killed Emma.

My father promised
he'd stop fooling around.

My mother was so humiliated.

So you went to Emma?

I had the key.

I was waiting for her.
I scared her, I guess.

And you fought?

She fell.

I never meant to hurt her.

I just... I wanted my
dad to end things.

It just looked like
she bumped her head.

But she was dead.

Kat called. We
were still friends.

I knew she'd never hurt
anyone. It was an accident.

You told Kat you'd get
rid of Emma's body...

while her and her
mother went out of town.

But you leave your sunglasses.
It's not like I'd done this before.

And Frank sees them the
next time he goes to visit Emma.

He came at me, man, one
night at work. Frank went nuts.

Wanted to know why I was at
his place and where Emma was.

- You had a pitchfork.
- I was turning the compost
when he was yelling at me.

You knew what would happen
to you and Kat if he found out.

He came at me. I didn't
even know I'd done it.

It was like someone
else jabbed him with it.

But the body, Charlie?
Why'd you move Frank's body?

- For my mom. For the insurance.
- Of course. No payout without a body.

So I tossed him where
we knew he'd be found.

Dad left everything to nonprofits. That
insurance money was all my mom would have.

You did it for your mother. I never
meant for any of this to happen.

I never meant to hurt anyone. I
just... I wanted my mom to be happy.

Kat, your father wasn't
having an affair with Emma.

He'd had a relationship
with her mother...

a long time ago.

Emma Billings was his daughter.

She was your half sister.

What? Oh, my God!

Oh, my God, no! Oh, my God, no!

So, case finished?


Congratulations? Yeah.

- You don't seem too happy.
- Well, because sometimes
if you win,

you end up with somebody
else's pain and screwed up a life.

You work for the F.B.I.
You should know that.

Must be a challenge for
you to access those feelings.

Okay, stop! You
don't know Booth.

You don't know me. You have a limited
view of us based on superficial data...

you've accumulated on a
standardized questionnaire...

and a subjective analysis from talking
to us that is not at all scientific.

So, back off!

- Just trying to help.
- What? By questioning
his humanity?

Okay, Bones. Now you're going a little
bit overboard. He's just a kid. All right?

I mean, the worst thing that's
probably ever happened to him...

was he lost at Mortal Kombat.

Are you normally this
protective of him, Dr. Brennan?

We are partners. Our lives depend
on being protective of each other.

And you feel the same
way, Agent Booth?

Sweets, I can only hope that one
day you know what a real partnership is.

You two are very close.

That was evident in your superficial
standardized questionnaire...

and my unscientific

Yeah? You complement each other.

Oh, no. She never compliments me. Did
you compliment me in the questionnaire?

"Complement." Not "compliment."


He means that we complete
each other, as a team.

Yeah, right.

Now, we've got a lot to work
on over the next few months.

Meaning we get to stay together?

- Yes.
- I'm sensing a "but."

However... That's
the same as "but."

I have observed some underlying
issues that need to be addressed.

Issues? Yes.

There's clearly a very deep...

emotional attachment
between you two.

We're just partners.

And why do you think I
would have thought otherwise?

'Cause you're 12.

Don't read into
anything that Booth said.

We're professionals. There's a line
that doesn't even need to be there.

Not at all. I mean, if, uh...

If there were no more murders, I... would
probably not even, you know, see her.

That's very true.
Might have coffee.

Probably not. What?


You wouldn't even
have coffee with me?

Well, in your scenario,

we wouldn't even know each
other because there are no murders.

"Were." I said "No
more murders."

Then, fine. We
could have a coffee.

So that's clear then? I
mean, we'd have coffee.

I mean, that's our
relationship? Coffee.

Yeah. Let's move on. Let's...

What's that mean?