Bones (2005–2017): Season 8, Episode 2 - The Partners in the Divorce - full transcript

A successful divorce lawyer's corpse is found by hobos, after being burnt. Finn Abernathy and the regulars have a hard time finding out the exact, complex cause of death, involving a steep fall and heavy machinery. His last case, the Carmichael couple, seems back together, but there's more than meets the eye. Meanwhile Sweets rightly points out Booth and Bones can't just pretend everything is okay now they're rejoined with their baby, with Bones's learned domestic skills and their emotions shifted all over the place.

I'm telling you,
even if I had a job,

no way would I
be investing in real estate.

I own my tent. And I'm very
glad I made the investment.

Well, until I see the Fed instituting
some basic Keynesian fiscal policy,

I'm staying liquid. Well,
how liquid are you anyway?

Ibought the last bottle.

Hey, man, it's a recession. Folks aren't as
free with their change as they were in 'O7.

Do you smell chicken?
Smells like pork to me.

I don't care what it is.
It's food. I'm starving.

Who would throw out
a perfectly good meal?

Oh, hope it's not too burned.

[ Grunts I

That's not chicken.

[ Both Gasp 1


I thought we were going to eat.

What's going on?

Oh, I learned to make,
uh, pancakes“.

While working as a fry cook outside
of New Bern, North Carolina.

Fry Cook?

Well, we didn't have any money
while we were evading arrest,

so I had to do
whatever I could to get by.

My dad wanted to steal, but-

Well, you don't have to, uh,
be a fry cook no more.

I cooked us breakfast before.

Why don't you go sit and read one
of those dead body books of yours?

No, Booth. I'm fine. You sit.
I like to cook breakfast.

You just never let me.

Well, it wasn't like
I tied you up.

I was just-You know, just
trying to be nice. I know.

I just-I'm used to doing this.
So I'm nice now, okay?

You-Okay, you're very nice.

Oh, uh, you know,
I don't want them to burn.

L-I-l didn't mean
to turn away like that.

No. No, that's... fine.
I'm sorry.


Here you go.


These look, uh, good.

I know.

Oh, thanks.

Not like my French toast.

L-I make
French toast now.


Booth. Right.
Great. On our way.

Well, business as usual.

I'll get Christine ready
for day care.

One night,
when we were on the road,

I camped under a bridge that
looked very much like this.

You slept under a bridge
with Christine?

She loved it.

Ah, probably because
it wasn't a murder scene.

So what have we got here?
Uh, not much so far.

Severely charred body. Local PD.
says no one witnessed anything.

So far I've found blowflies.

No eggs or larvae, so I can't
determine time of death.

Based on the nasal root
and the brow ridge,

the victim is a Caucasian male-

Don't step in the brain, Booth.

Brain? Oh! What?

Oh, it's nice, huh?
All of us back together again?

That's not nice.
There's brain on my shoe.

Let me bag it.

- Bag my shoe?
- Yeah. You can hop.

Yeah, I've missed this.

What is adhering to the
victim's C6, Dr. Hodgins?

Do you see that?

Must be some kind
of melted alloy.

I mean, I can get
something to scrape it off.

No. No, we have to find a way to remove
it without destroying bone evidence.

Victim was probably homeless.

I don't know many homeless guys
who get manicures.

Okay, that definitely changes things.
Okay, this guy was found in an oil drum.

It's clearly a body dump. This
location is anonymous, isolated.

Witnesses would be deemed

This site was chosen with care.

Bones, explanations like that
are sort of my thing.

Okay? So why don't you just stick
to the toasty guy there?

I was a fugitive, so I actually
have more real-life experience.

I've been a special agent
for years.

Who hasn't been
in the field for months.

I'm just being thorough, Booth.

You want me to be thorough,
don't you?

Yes, I want you to be thorough.
Completely thorough.

Are we finished here? Would you like to
transport all this back to the Jeffersonian?

Actually, yes. Yes.
If the techs could-

Great. if we could just cross-reference
and catalog all the evidence markers.

I need three techs in nitrile
to sweep for trace.

This is an arson scene,
so you need nylon bags.

I want all the bone fragments from
the burst skull put in Teflon cans...

and heat-sealed before we ship
them back to the Jeffersonian.

Did I miss anything? No, I don't think so.
Let's move. Move!

All right, I'm
gonna get some samples.

I got a shoe with brain
all over it.

Let's prep the body for removal.

Right away. Yep.


This is difficult.

You Okay?

I don't mind admitting that burned bodies
churn up my guts pretty good.

Well, pathology
is a lot like football.

I need a helmet?

No, when in doubt,

ignore the pain and
plow ahead... scientifically.

Ah, scientifically.
Yes, ma'am, I can do that.

House fires average
approximately 1,200 degrees Fahrenheit.

Celsius, please?
Um, 650 Celsius.


The victim's stomach may still be
intact enough to discern a last meal.

Ah. You see, what
it is, Dr. Saroyan,

is that I'm a-basically
a bones kind of fella,

and this is more like a barbecue.

Fine. Tell me what
you see on the X-rays.

Thank you, ma'am.

Well, there is this metal blob...

that Dr. Brennan found
lodged in the C6.

Possible cause of death.

We should have Dr. Hodgins
take a look at it.

X-rays indicate that the victim suffered
from multiple fractures to the ribs...

as well as both femurs and tibiae.

It's like our victim was
beaten like a rented mule.

Sternal sutures
indicate heart surgery.


Stenw. Stems.

We can get a serial number and
identify the victim that way.

[ Grunts I

What was that all about? Hitting the
target. You should try it sometime.

No, I mean, you emptied your magazine.
You killed it.

How can you kill
something that's not alive?

That's interesting.

I'm sorry? Yeah, what in
your personal life is dead?

You know, metaphorically?
What did you hear?

Just that there was some tension on the
crime scene this morning. Tension?

Um, since
Dr. Brennan returned...

from her three months
on the lam,

have you had any, uh,
problems with your sex life?

Sex is not the problem.

You know what?

It's the solution.

But you admit there's
a problem then?

When Bones took Christine
and disappeared,

it-it was the right thing.

Then why are you so angry?

You want to know why?

Bones cooked breakfast
this morning.

That's why! She cooked breakfast!

Yeah, Bones?

Great. Okay. Cam got an I.D.

I'll tell you what. I'll come pick you up,
and we'll go talk to the next of kin.

I love you.
Well, gotta go.

Hey, Booth.

I just want you to know,
I understand.

You make breakfast. it's your thing since
you and Dr. Brennan moved in together.

That's our morning routine.

You're angry 'cause you can't have the one
thing that you want more than anything.

Which is?
For that three months,

when Dr. Brennan took your baby and
left you alone, to never have happened.

Well, those three months happened, okay,
Sweets? You can't unring the bell.

M s:


Someone was
bound to kill Richard.

Why? Was your husband an attorney...

for organized crime or terrorists?

Much worse. Richard was a
white-shoe divorce lawyer.

I believe the victim's shoes
were oxblood.

What she means is that her husband
is a lawyer for rich people.

No shoes.

Did-Did he leave you any money?

Yes. Insurance, investments.

I'll be comfortable
for the rest of my life.

I suppose that's what
you'd call a motive.

The dissolution of marriage has been
in practice for countless centuries.

In fact, in Christian Byzantium,

a woman could divorce her husband
for a number of medical reasons,

including leprosy or impotence.

Uh, Dr. Brennan is wondering why being a divorce
lawyer would get your husband murdered.

Richard was ruthless.

No holds barred.

He'd do anything to win, no matter
what the collateral damage.

Where you or I would see an unhappy
couple, Richard would see an A.T.M.

- So the losing side would hate him.
- Absolutely.

Also clients, lawyers, offspring.

Even the odd judge.

Is there someone at his work
we can talk to?

His assistant, Margot Sandoval.

I hate the burned ones.

Well, you're preaching
to the choir on that one.

Angie, whatever substance this is
melts at a very low temperature.

Hodgins says
you weld weird metals.

Yeah, she makes sculptures out of materials
with relatively low melting points.

Like aluminum? Are you
sure that's what this is?

Well, according
to the mass spec.

Well, if you get it out,
maybe we can figure out...

what it was
before it was a melted blob.


Gently. Say gently
again, and I burn you.

Slick as a frog fart.

There's something else in there.

What is that? Gold?

Looks like-A fleur-de-lis.

It's a sign of the Priory of Sion, a secret
society that defies papal authority.

Honey, honey. That's the
nib of a fountain pen.

What, he was stabbed in the
neck with a fountain pen?

Yeah, or assassinated
by the pope.

Or stabbed in the neck
with a fountain pen.

Wow! Must be nice
working in the penthouse.

I mean, come on,
look at that view.

Interesting anthropological fact. Men of
power have always sought higher ground.

To that end, a floor
that a man works on...

could be seen as the literal representation
of where he fits in the hierarchical ladder.

I work on the fourth floor.

And despite that, I am very proud of you.
Right, um-

Uh, this is a hard-hat area, so I'm
gonna have to ask you to leave.

F.B.l. I need a hard hat.

And, uh, directions to
Margot Sandoval's office.

And I need a hard hat too.

This is gonna slow me down.
That's a shame.

Buddy, a little mercy,
all right?

I'm doing renovations for a bunch of
lawyers who threaten to sue me every day.

I'm going bald with the stress.

You know why I have good hair? Because
I don't let lawyers stress me out.

That's true. Okay, okay, fine.
Who do you need to see again?

Richard Bartlett.

Uh, you'll lose a few hairs after
you meet Bartlett. Trust me.

Could I get the blue hard hat?

I got a great idea for this weekend.

Let's take Christine
to the carousel.

Oh, no, that is not a good idea.

How do you know? I took her to
one in Woolrich, Pennsylvania,

and she did not like it.

Well, maybe because
I wasn't there.

Why would that make any difference?
ls everything all right?

You know, I just don't like being in a
divorce lawyer's office. That's all.

Why? Well, 'cause it reminds me
that things, you know, fall apart.

Well, it's a good thing we're
not married, right?

You are not a very reassuring
person, Bones.

F.B.l. Ms. Sandoval, open up.

I hear something.

Of course you hear something, 'cause
someone's inside, Bones. It's Ms. Sandoval.

Please open up the door.

Hi. Sorry to keep you
waiting, but we're closed.

If you need a referral for
another divorce attorney-

No. No, we're not here
for a divorce.

We're not married, but-

The last time I saw Richard was
when I left work two days ago.

6:00 in the evening.

6:00 in the evening? Wow, that's early
for a high-powered lawyer to close shop.

Oh, definitely. It wasn't weird for
us to be here until 10:00 p.m.,

but Richard said
I wasn't needed.

- Can we see his calendar?
- Not without a warrant.

I'm sorry. Who are you trying
to impress, Ms. Sandoval?

Your boss is dead.

- Booth?
- Yeah.

One of these fountain
pens is missing. Okay.

Wait, I said you could come in
to ask a couple of questions.

You're gonna need a warrant if-Could
you please stand away from that?

This machine is warm. Have you
been shredding documents?

Richard left specific instructions
in case of death or disappearance.

- Booth?
- Yeah?

This is blood.

Blood? Whoa, okay.

Well, that means that this
whole room is a crime scene.

Which means we don't
need a warrant.

I need you to reassemble all of the
documents that have been shredded.

That's all? Yes, as quickly
as possible, of course.

Of course.
Good. Good.

This is bad.
Look at this.

This is tiny, tiny little pieces of paper.
Gazillions of them.

That is not an actual number.

Yeah, but it's
an actual problem.

This is a particle-cut shredder.

That means that each sheet can
be cut into 4,000 little pieces.

So not only am I going to have to figure
out how to scan each and every piece,

but then I'm also gonna have to somehow write
a code that can somehow recognize patterns...

within each little, tiny,
confetti-sized bit.

So it seems that
you have a handle on it.



You know, you haven't
told me how it's going.

While there are a few suspects,
we don't have any definitive evidence.

You and Booth.

You two should be locked
in a bedroom somewhere,

making up for lost time and
telling me everything about it.

What's going on?


Okay. Hodgins said that you seemed a little
tense with each other at the crime scene.

We're fine...
given the time spent apart.

There are many cultures, specifically
Native American tribes from Montana-

Honey, I don't want to hear
about any anthropological crap.

I want to know how
my best friend is doing.

I don't understand
what you want me to say.

I was gone, and now I'm back.

Booth and I are living
in the same house again,

raising our daughter
and solving another murder.

I'm still the same person
that I always was.

You worked at a fast-food place.

And you were a single mother.

You didn't even know if you
were gonna see Booth again.

That changes a person.

And now that I'm home,
I've changed back.

Okay. Okay.

Listen, just know that if you wake up
in the middle of the night screaming,

that you can call me...

and we can-
we can talk it out.

I don't know what that means,
but... thank you.

I should let you work.
You have a lot to do.


So did you identify the accelerant that
was used to torch that poor fella?

Well, most of it vaporized.

All I know so far is that it contains
cyclohexylamine, but I'm still looking.

All right, here you go,
clean and ready to go.

Much obliged.
Rootin' tootin'.

- Excuse me?
- You said “much obliged, ” I was suddenly in a Western-

Can we just forget I said that?

I'm afraid that's
not gonna happen.

Thought so. Hey, um,
all these fractures, right?

Are they from
the brain exploding?

Oh, well, when the liquid in the brain
reached the boiling point,

it blew from the midline
to the left coronal suture.

Did you ever think you'd be having these
conversations when you were growing up?

Nope. But I sure hoped I would.

Dr. Hodgins.

I need you to identify the makeup
of these stomach contents.

Ah, it just keeps
getting better and better.

Have you found something
of value, Mr. Abernathy,

or are you merely enjoying
this man's last meal?

The concentric microfracturing to the occipital
were definitely not from the brain rupturing.

They're most commonly
associated with a fall.

You mean fall, like someone passing
out after getting stabbed with a pen?

Yeah, well, I'm afraid we're looking at
something a bit more violent, ma'am.

Wow. His wife was right.
Bartlett was ruthless.

He'd bleed people dry
for his clients.

Right. Which means we have a huge stack
of people here who wanted him dead.

Not his clients.
They must've loved him.

Well, according to bank reports, I
mean, this guy-Bartlett was loaded.

We're talking, you know,
“private plane” loaded.

I mean, why would
he keep working?

'Cause with a guy like that, it's not about
money, it's about power and control.

You know, he destroyed senators,
athletes, even a Saudi prince.

You know, Bones and I,
we're just fine, okay?

Just so you know that. So you
don't have to worry about us.

I didn't say anything. I know you, though.
That's how you ask a question.

I assure you, I'm not that good.

Yeah, well, you know what? I
assure you that that door is shut.

Completely done.

Okay, I'm glad you had this little
talk with yourself. Thank you.

Um, I did find one of Bartlett's
files that looks promising.


Carmichael versus Carmichael.

Gavin Carmichael and his wife had an
extremely ugly divorce. A lot of threats.

Now look-look at page two.
It's a transcript-

Wow, that's bad. of a message that she
left on, uh, Bartlett's voice mail.

Page two.

€œBartlett, you are a lying bastard,
and I swear to God before I'm done,

I'll make sure
your days are numbered.”

Why is a voice mail transcript
included in the file?

Bartlett used the message to
reinforce the husband's claims...

that his wife had a history
of violence.

It says once that she clubbed her
hubby with a bottle of wine...

because he bought
the wrong vintage.

To be fair, 2000 was a
questionable year for Merlot.

So, why this couple...

and not the woman who stabbed her
husband in the eye with a shrimp fork?

Because Bartlett had a meeting scheduled
with both Gavin and his wife, Melanie,

at 7:00 p.m. the night
he was murdered.

What about Melanie's attorney?
She represented herself.

Margot said that the notes from the meeting
were with the documents she was told to shred.

Never easy, is it? Never easy.

Just look at the depositions.
These two are insane.

Melanie accused Gavin
of not being a man.

Then Gavin starts yelling at
her for assault. It's nuts!

Some people are just
not meant to be together.

Well, they gave up
after less than two years.

I mean, marriage is about working
through the tough times.

More often, marriage
is about divorce,

which is why Bartlett could
afford three homes and a plane.

Well, the question is, I mean, why did
Melanie meet with Bartlett and Gavin...

after the divorce was settled?

Logic dictates that if she's gonna kill
anyone, it would be her ex-husband.

I agree.

We're on the same page.
That's good.

It is a little surprising
to see you two together.

Not as surprised as we are.

The reason Gavin and I met
with Bartlett that night...

was to undo our divorce.


Yeah. I mean, we realized
how childish we'd been.

We always loved each other. And
we only gave it two years.

Marriage is about working
through the difficult times, right?

That's so true.
Isn't that right?

And we just
kind of lost each other.

- I was working too much.
- Yeah, me too.

I think we just forgot how
much we meant to each other.

So you went from assaulting each other to
reconciling in a matter of a few days?

- It's possible, Bones.
- Well, time travel's possible... theoretically.

Forgive my partner.
She's a bit cynical.

While Agent Booth
can be a bit idealistic.

We're going to have a baby.

So perhaps that makes it
easier to understand.

Yeah, a child sort of
puts things in perspective.

And Gavin is an architect,
as you know,

and he's designing us a new place with
a detached playhouse for the baby.

It was kind of like Bartlett
was giving us a second chance.

I really wanted to show him the
new house I'm designing for us.

We're calling
it our “second act” house.

So all the threats against
your husband, against Bartlett,

those are no longer
a part of you?

- People change.
- And if you don't believe that,

I feel sorry for you.

You found
something, Dr. Hodgins?

Oh, yeah.

I did a microscopic analysis of
the victim's stomach contents.

Did you have any suspicions
of what I might find?

I knew it was meat, but there
were so many additives.

Delicious additives.
Curry paste, right?

Sea salt, red pepper,
red poblano chili.

I got the poblano chili.

Where is this leading?
'Cause you seem very excited.

Capers and tarragon-which I
would never think to combine.

Dr. Hodgms,
'Ms 'vs not Top Chef.

Well, it-it sort of is.

What we have here was
an expertly prepared burger.

And this has meaning why?

Because whoever made it
was masking the meat...

which came from
Ra flus norvegicus.

Excuse me?

Richard Bartlett's last meal...

was a rat burger.


I got nothing to say
without my lawyer present.

Mm-hmm. Well, legal representation
is your constitutional right,

but I'm telling you the minute a
lawyer gets here, I can't help you.

Uh-uh. You say that,
but you don't mean that.

You served your divorce lawyer
a rat burger.

Says you.
The ingredients-

aside from the rat-forensically
matched your kitchen.

What ingredients? What ingredients?
Let's take a look here.

Curry paste, Corsican sea salt,

red peppers,

a fairly rare Russian tarragon,

Menorcan capers,

red poblano chilies. Oh!

This is the pan you used.

All you're doing here is
convincing me I need a lawyer.

You prepared the rat. You didn't just
dice it up and toss it in the pan.

You treated it
like a fine filet.

You really hated
Richard Bartlett.

Now that's a fact.

He was your lawyer. Wh-
You won!

Look, at first, I thought he was my savior.
Then I got his bill.

That bastard charged me so much, I would
have been better off giving half to my wife.

So you served him
the burger as revenge?

Every Tuesday night
for two years...

with a year and a half to go.

- Excuse me?
- He was gonna eat rat for as long as I was married-

three and one-half years.

For poetical reasons.
He figured it out somehow,

called you to his office, threatened
to sue you, take away your restaurant,

- and you killed him.
- Okay, now you're just being insulting.

'Cause I'm accusing you
of murder?

'Cause you're
insulting my cooking!

He loved that burger!
You check my e-mails.

All Bartlett does is rave
about that burger.

Why would I kill him?

Now I never get the satisfaction
of seeing that bastard's face...

when he finds out he ate rat
every Tuesday night.

Want to see something amazing?

I'm speechless.
I stabbed a mango.

I can see that.

But this is even better.

Oh, my God.
What happened?

My hand slipped, but my D.N.A.
ended up in the fountain pen,

and so did our bad guy's-


Yeah. Can you get D.N.A.
off of it?

Please. King of the lab.

So, what did you find?

I don't think stabbing
is cause of death.

It would have been
shocking and painful,

but the pen didn't sever any veins or
arteries or damage the spinal cord.

Take a look at these longitudinal
fractures to the femur.

Also, the fractures to the acetabulum
anterior wall and posterior column...

from the heads of the femur
being pushed upwards.

As though the victim jumped from a
building and landed on his feet.

I am not seeing cause of death.

The cascading horizontal lacerations
to the ribs, femurs, tibiae...

on both posterior
and anterior planes,

like he was falling
head over heels down stairs.

But he didn't strike his head.

Finn and I can run some scenarios,
see if we can figure something out.

In the meantime, I was able to
reconstitute some of the documents...

from the victim's shredder.

What did you come up with?

I initially had some trouble with
the shredded photo we found.

Then I discovered that there were pieces of
a typed document stuck to the photo ink.

You mean like if you took the photo and the
document, shredded them one on top of the other?


What is that?

A prenuptial agreement.

Richard Bartlett's personal
prenup with his own wife.

The section on
infidelity is highlighted.

She was cheating
with another man?

Some of this imagery
has been interpolated,

but I was able to clean up
the central image.

And there's the victim's
wife, Pamela.

With another woman.

Margot Sandoval.

This is the woman that Booth and Brennan
caught shredding these documents.

My point of view, she ain't
got nothing to be ashamed of.

Except for cheating
on her husband.

Yes, of course.

You lied to Agent Booth, Margot.

You said that you were shredding files
because that's what your boss wanted...

in the event of his death.

That's true.
I didn't kill Richard.

- Why would I kill my boss?
- Maybe 'cause of this?

Oh, my God.

Yeah, that was sort of
our reaction too.

On the night of the murder, where did
you go after you left the office?

Home. Pamela met me there.
You can ask her.

Well, you can understand why Pamela isn't
the most reliable person to talk to.

She was going to tell Richard.
She just didn't know how.

Right. 'Cause she could have
been cut off with nothing.

You saw the prenup, right?

I mean, it seems like both of you
had a pretty good motive...

to get Mr. Bartlett
out of your lives.

Pamela and I are in love.

We don't care about the money.

Yeah, it's easy to say when you
know you'll have a lot of it.

When did you first find out that
Richard knew about the affair?

This picture.

He called me in
to ask me to call clients,

file depositions, but the real reason was
so I would see the picture on his desk.

I tried to talk to him,

but he wouldn't listen.

But that was Richard-when he'd just get
this look in his eye like an executioner.

L-I tried to talk to him.

- So you fought?
- No. No one fights with Richard.

He just tells you what's gonna happen,
and there's nothing you can do about it.

He was going to ruin Pamela.

Okay, then why did you-
why did you shred the picture?

He was already dead. Why
should Pamela lose everything?

I was protecting
the person that I love.

Wouldn't you?

Where's Pamela now?

Isn't she at home?

No. She's gone.

The housekeeper doesn't
even know where she is.

Seems like she has made quite a mess
and left you to pick up the pieces.

Okay, so this is the victim
falling down a flight of stairs.

That's absurd.

I know this looks
a mite strange,

but I swear this is
the only scenario...

that explains all horizontal
anterior and posterior injuries.

What about the compression
fractures to the long bones?

Oh, it's coming.

Congratulations, Mr. Abernathy,

you have successfully reconstructed
the death of Wile E. Coyote.

Wow, honey! That was a very
impressive pop-culture reference.

Christine and I may have watched
a few cartoons while I was away.

I have to say, ma'am, I've
sure missed working with you.

I imagine you have.

Although I'm sure Agent Booth
has missed you more.

Is this helping the case,
Mr. Abernathy?

No, ma'am. I'm just appreciating the
good Lord's work getting you back.

If God was involved in our lives, these
cases wouldn't be so hard to solve.

I'm not so sure about that.

Without a challenge, you wouldn't
know how brilliant you are.

What if both the stairs and the steep
fall happened at the same time?

Excuse me?

Mr. Abernathy
may be onto something.

The bones tells us that the victim
suffered an extremely steep fall.

He had to have been falling at a rate
of at least 50 miles per hour...

to sustain
the compression injuries.

He also sustained cascading horizontal
injuries to the front and back of his body.

So you're saying it's almost as if he
fell down an almost vertical staircase,

which, of course, doesn't exist.

I know what happened.

Okay, you sure about this?

It seems like the most
reasonable explanation.

This is good stuff.

Which means we can wrap up this case,
and we can have a nice weekend.

I was going to take Christine
to the Children's Museum.

You were'?


I was thinking that maybe, you know, we can
go to the carousel. Give her another chance.

Why? I told you that
she didn't like it.

I know, but maybe it'll be different,
you know, now that her dad is there.

Are you saying I didn't know how
to take care of my daughter?

- What? Wait a second. No.
- It wasn't easy out there, Booth.

Here we go again.

What do you mean, “What”? You're not
out there anymore, Bones, okay?

You're back, and I'm part
of your life, remember?

Yeah, it's hard to forget. Okay,
what's that supposed to mean?

I'm not getting into this now.
You're angry.

Of course I'm angry, huh?
Wouldn't you be angry?

I tried to understand you, but it's
like you wish you were still out there!

Don't be absurd.
Oh, God!

Maybe you should just try to see
things from my point of view,

how I'm seeing things,
'cause it ain't pretty here.

From what I'm seeing,
I'm getting shut out all the time!

I'm not going to fight.

We'll talk later when you are
capable of being rational.

You know, you can't just cut me off like
that because you're scared to fight!

I'm not engaging, Booth.
Oh, right, that's it. Sure.

That's it, just run away. Just hide
behind that big brain of yours.

Escape all the messiness. Acting
like an adult is not hiding.

Well, you know what? You're gonna
have to face it sooner or later.

Do not tell me how to live!
We are not married!

We are both free agents, and
I've done just fine on my own!


- Fine!
- Hey, is everything okay here?

" No!
" No!

I need to get to
your construction chute.

Wait, now, that's a very dangerous area.
I can't let you go back there.

Angry F.B.l.!

Hey, I'm not supposed to let anybody-
Hey, hey, where are you going?

Whoever killed Richard Bartlett could
have easily moved the body out here...

any time after 6:00
without being seen.

There's lipping on each
of the stacked cans,

evenly spaced like stairs.

This chute could definitely have
created the damage found on the-

on the body-I need to
take a closer look. Wait!

Now this is my site.
I'm responsible.

You can't go in there.

He's right. You can't just go
rappelling down some garbage chute.

He-He could be
the murderer, Booth.

He already admitted that
Bartlett was suing him.

Just hold my feet.


Then, as previously stated, I will
act as the free agent that I am.

- I'm not sticking around here to watch her kill herself.
- One move, and I'll shoot you.

Whoa! Bones, no.

Don't drop me.
I won't.


I see blood and tissue, Booth.

This is where he died.

I'm sorry, Bones.

You shouldn't be sorry
for saying what you mean.

I'm sorry I caused you pain.

I'm sorry about that too.

I mean, for hurting you,
not for hurting me.

I get it.

Should I come back or-

Oh, no! Uh, come in.
Come in, Mr. Abernathy.

Do you see these fissure lines
inferior to the squamosal suture?

The cracks.
They're from the fire.

When I was examining the skull,

I found that
the fissures felt-

- What was the word I used, Mr. Abernathy?
- Disquisitive.

I had to look it up. In this case, it
means that her spidey sense was tingling.

What's the deal?
What's that mean?

There's something in the fissures.
The cracks.

Dr. Hodgins says it's a mixture of
toluene, hexane and methyl ethyl ketone.

Most likely from the accelerant
used to burn the body.

It's a highly flammable solvent used by
architects when building polystyrene models.

- Architect.
- Give me an hour.

Thank you...
for coming here.

You're welcome.


Uh, good luck
with the “maxamesomin.”

Good luck to you too.


We don't usually kiss
in front of people,

but we had a disagreement.

You already had the fight?


That was the two of you making up
after the fight you already had?

I don't understand your tone of
incredulity. Oh, no, ma'am, it's just-

When my mom and my stepdad used to get all
polite, like the two of you were just then,

that meant all hell
was gonna break loose.


You think Gavin killed
Bartlett because of some glue?

Solvent, actually.

Right. Not just Gavin.
You helped.

Me? it was Gavin's glue you found.
Thanks, Melanie.

It's solvent.
Solvent. We got that, okay?

We found your D.N.A.
on the murder weapon here.

If you mean the pen,

I cut myself on that when we
signed the divorce agreement.

How did you know which pen was
used to stab Richard Bartlett?

Obviously, it's the one
with my fingernail in it.

We should call a lawyer.

Suck it up, Gavin.
These are just tricks.

Besides, we don't need a lawyer
because I'm a lawyer.

They'll probably
want the divorce back.

Probably from
a cheaper lawyer, too,

because you didn't pay
your bill, pal.

Oh, the bill was a couple months past due.
That's not a crime.

Richard Bartlett is not a patient man.
Not at all. He nullified your divorce.

Apparently, your middle name was
missing and your wife's maiden name.

Bartlett used those mistakes to render
the whole document null and void.

So you stabbed him in the neck
with his own pen.

I want to make a deal. Shut up,
you weaselly little coward.

Now I really want to make a deal.
Melanie killed him.

All I'm guilty of is helping
her get rid of the body.

Moron, you're admitting to conspiracy.
Still not murder. I'll testify.

We have a deal?

He wasn't dead when you tossed him
down the construction chute.

- What?
- What?

- You mean Gavin actually killed him?
- Yes.

If he tossed him
down the garbage chute.

- Well, he did.
- You helped! She helped.

I'll be the one
cutting the deal.

All I did was jab him with a pen.
You killed the bastard.

You told me he was dead. You checked for
his pulse. We could've saved his life!

- Idiot. You just confessed twice to murder.
- Idiot?

Gavin was also the one who set him on fire.
And he liked it.

- Well, it's good to know.
- She lied about being pregnant.

Can you imagine this bitch
as a mother?

I just don't understand how two people like
you ever got married in the first place.

♪ Just look at
what I turned my back on ♪

♪ Mama, I wanted
to be the greatest one ♪

♪ So I followed down
the narrow land ♪

♪ I saw the raven
in the glory of the sun ♪

♪ All along, maybe I knew, r

♪ But a true thing
ain't easy to do ♪





Kinda late.

Well, I-
I went to see Sweets.



Something is wrong with me.

No, Bones,
nothing is wrong with you.

You know, I thought today, when
we apologized to each other,

that everything was fine.

Because we were being polite.


We were polite, but you still
knew that everything wasn't fine.

I was, uh,

hoping that it would be,
you know, in the future.

Only if we admit that
it isn't fine right now.

Sweets says that
I am subconsciously...

rebelling against
the fact that...

my happiness is now contingent upon
your happiness and Christine's.

Sweets, he's good with the psychol09Y~
okay? But we're more than psychology.

We're gonna be okay.

I just-I don't want to
be polite about this.

I'll just make sure that it
doesn't happen again.


I'll fart when I kiss you.

My God.

I was mad.

I lost you and Christine
for three months.

I'm never gonna be able
to get that time back.

I have a way to fix that.

Oh, what? Do you have a time
machine in your basement?


But we can take Christine
to the carousel.

Eventhough I know the outcome.

You're a wild woman.

I love you.

I'm willing to do
irrational things to prove it.

'Cause you're rational?

Don't you dare.


Don't you dare.
I would never.

What's that mean?