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“The Blonde in the Game”

Episode 2x04

Written By: Noah Hawley

Directed By: Bryan Spicer

Transcribed By: Sinkwriter

Disclaimer: The characters, plotlines, quotes, etc. included here are owned by Hart Hanson, all rights reserved. This transcript is not authorized or endorsed by Hart Hanson or Fox.




(Exterior – Wooded area, Daytime. Pan down from tall trees to DR. TEMPERANCE BRENNAN and SPECIAL AGENT SEELEY BOOTH as they make their way through the woods, led by a POLICE OFFICER/PARK RANGER, until they reach a clearing sectioned off by police tape.)


POLICE OFFICER/PARK RANGER: (voice coming in immediately, mid-conversation, as all three walk through the woods) Hikers aren’t supposed to let their dogs off the leash back here. But I’m pretty sure the dog was running free when he found the – what he found.


BRENNAN: What’s the condition of the body?


POLICE OFFICER/PARK RANGER: No idea. Can’t get close enough to examine it.


BOOTH: Why not?


POLICE OFFICER/PARK RANGER: The dog’s definitely not on his leash at this time.


BOOTH: Ohhh.


(In the clearing, Booth sees the dog growling ferociously, the skeletal remains of a forearm and hand clenched between his teeth – the dog is perched atop a small mound, surrounded by a wide circle of rangers, policemen, and the dog’s owner, GIL LAPPIN, who is trying to calm the dog as the trio approaches)


GIL LAPPIN: (to the dog) Put down the bone.


(Gil continues coaxing the dog as Booth and Brennan reach the crime site and stand, watching the scene)


BOOTH: How the hell are we gonna get to the body?


GIL LAPPIN: (trying to approach the dog) Come on, Buddy, drop it.


POLICE OFFICER/PARK RANGER: (watching the dog) You don’t see that every day. (turns to Brennan and Booth) Sent for Animal Control. Take another hour though.


GIL LAPPIN: Drop it now! (flustered, turning to Booth, Brennan and the Police Officer/Park Ranger) I – I’m so sorry. He – he’s never done anything like this.


BOOTH: (watching the dog) You ever have a dog, Bones?


BRENNAN: I always wanted a pig.


BOOTH: (amused scoff) A pig.


BRENNAN: Very smart, and despite the popular misconception, very clean.


BOOTH: (grinning) Yeah, I prefer my pig with a little mint, a little honey glaze –


BRENNAN: (gives him a brief look) Not funny. (turns back to watch the dog) In some cultures, dogs can guard corpses, sometimes to the point of starvation, so … shoot it.


BOOTH: I’m – I’m not shooting him for just doing what comes naturally. As far as he’s concerned, you know, finder’s keepers.


BRENNAN: That dog is compromising the integrity of my remains, so wing it – (Booth gives her a look) – him.


BOOTH: There’s another way, Bones. (steps forward, smirking a little) Dogs love me.


(Booth lowers his stance a bit, cautiously approaching the dog, hands open and unthreatening)


BOOTH: Nice doggy. Good pooch. (Buddy the dog puts the arm/hand bone down; Booth gives the dog an approving tone of voice) Ah! Niiiice doggy. Good pooch.


(As Booth reaches out, the dog barks loudly and Booth yanks his hand back)


BOOTH: Whoa! Hey, we’re just gonna wait for Animal Control.


(The dog picks up the bone again)


BRENNAN: (picking up a pine cone) I’ll do it.


BOOTH: (scoffs) Oh, yeah.


(Brennan whistles, using her fingers)


BOOTH: Yeah, a pine cone’s really gonna – (watches as Brennan heaves the pine cone away from the crime scene, for the animal to fetch) – work.


(Buddy runs off after the pine cone, the arm bone still clenched between his teeth; his owner Gil chases after him)


GIL: Buddy! Buddy!


BRENNAN: Okay. (calls out) I need everybody to clear the area. (to Booth) Set up a perimeter.


BOOTH: (casually, since everyone’s already moving, following Brennan’s instructions) Clear the area! Let’s set up a perimeter.


(Brennan brings a messenger bag over to the site)


BRENNAN: (turns to speak to Booth privately) And tell Animal Control…


BOOTH (leaning in) Yeah?


BRENNAN: … I’ll need that bone back.


BOOTH: Right. (looking grim) First thing I’ll do when they get here.


(Brennan and Booth squat down to check out the victim, as the point of view circles slowly around the skeletal remains)



(Interior – Jeffersonian – Medico Legal Lab – Platform. Pan down from a close-up on one of the lab’s computer monitors to the same remains from the woods, now laid out on a lab table for examination.)


BRENNAN: Victim was female, late teens.


DR. CAMILLE SAROYAN: (leaning in closely to examine the body) Blonde. Cause of death looks like blunt trauma to the back of the skull.


ZACK ADDY: (leafing through a folder of photos from the crime scene) She was buried facedown.


CAM: What’s that, some satanic hoo-ha?


DR. JACK HODGINS: (smiling, amused, as he walks up the steps to the platform and exam area) My uncle Preston wants to be buried standing up without a casket. (Brennan gives Hodgins a disapproving look; he quickly sobers and moves on to the facts of the investigation) Pupal casings and insect remains suggest she was buried out there seven to ten years ago.


BRENNAN: Placement of wrists and ankles suggests she was bound.


HODGINS: Residue on the medial malleolus might tell us what restraints were used.


BRENNAN: Look at that. (points out a section of bone around the elbow area)


ZACK: Yeah, wear to her right lateral epicondyle, and rotator cuff. Also, repetitive motion damage to the lower lumbar vertebrae.


CAM: (testing him) What’s that mean?


ZACK: Golf? (Brennan nods at him with a small approving smile)


(The sound of an I.D. badge being swiped at the foot of the stairs – ANGELA MONTENEGRO makes her way up to the platform while pulling back her hair. She’s wearing a cute outfit, including a short skirt. Hodgins stares at her as Angela begins to button up her lab coat. He looks at her as if he’s just seen her for the first time.)


HODGINS: Hi, Angela. (recovers, smiling admiringly) You look great today.


ANGELA: (smiles back, obviously appreciating the compliment) Thanks, Hodgie. (her tone remains light and flirtatious) This is my “boho, rocker, artist, mid-week, take-a-deep-breath-and-pout” look.


(Hodgins and Angela grin, eyes focused only on each other)


BRENNAN: (glances at them both curiously, her mouth slightly agape) “Hodgie”?


(Cam also tilts her head and raises her eyebrows, obviously intrigued at the overly familiar term they’ve never before heard Angela use to address Hodgins)


ANGELA: (smile dropping immediately, she glances at Hodgins before turning her attention to Brennan) Uh – (Brennan still looks mildly suspicious, following Angela’s eyes to Hodgins who looks down) – I did a facial reconstruction, extrapolating skin tone from hair color. (She reaches for the computer keyboard, bringing up a facial image on one of the monitors) For the record, I hate the guy who killed this girl, and I hope to hell he burns in all eternity.


(The sound of another I.D. badge being swiped at the foot of the stairs – Booth joins the group)


BOOTH: That our victim?


HODGINS: Yeah, I found flecks of black enamel paint in the wound. (With the computer and monitor, he zeros in on the specific bone, highlighting the hole from the injury with a red circle within a pixel box containing four blue marker points, for Booth to see)


ZACK: Shape suggests a tire iron.


BRENNAN: (murmuring) Tire iron.


(The screen whites out and flashes briefly to three quick, dark images, including wrist bones and a blonde woman screaming, before flashing back to Brennan in the present moment)


BRENNAN: (certain now, her intent eyes meeting Booth’s) Tire iron. Hands and feet bound, buried … facedown.


(Cam looks to both Booth and Brennan, eyes wide, needing more information)


BOOTH: (realizing and nodding) Epps.


(Hodgins understands as well, brow furrowed, looking grave. The team takes a collective concerned breath at this sobering news, while Cam looks at each of them, confused.)


CAM: Hello? New team member in the room.


BRENNAN: Howard Epps, a serial killer on death row.


BOOTH: Killed at least three.


HODGINS: We found two of ’em last year.


ANGELA: The judge stayed his execution to try him on the new charges.


CAM: You saved his life. Ironic.


BRENNAN: The timeframe fits. This girl would have been killed about … six months before Epps went to prison.


BOOTH: Run her through the database, get an I.D.


CAM: Why don’t you just ask him?


BOOTH: Well, because last time Bones saw Epps, it – (as his eyes meet Brennan’s, he smiles slightly) – got violent.


CAM: You’ll be there to protect her.


BOOTH: She’s not the one who needs protecting. (his eyes don’t leave Brennan’s face, as she looks down) Bones broke his wrist.


(Flashback to the Season One scene during which Brennan furiously grabbed Howard Epps and slammed his wrist against the table)


BRENNAN: (sickened) He touched me with his creepy serial killer hands.


CAM: (pause) Better not take Doctor Brennan.



(Cut to: Buzzing sound – an electronic prison gate is cleared to open. Close-up of a red sign with white lettering that reads: “NOTICE – DO NOT GIVE ANYTHING TO INMATES.” An armed guard lets Booth into a prison visiting room where HOWARD EPPS sits at a table, waiting.)


EPPS: (quietly cocky and confident) Agent Booth. What took you so long? (Booth stands in the dark shadows of the room near the door, his eyes narrowed, ready for the serial killer’s every move, as Epps looks past Booth) And where’s Doctor Brennan?





(Exterior shot of the United States Capitol in Washington, D.C. – Daytime – Cut back to the prison visiting room: Epps sits, handcuffed to the table, while Booth stands, tossing a file folder onto the table.)


BOOTH: (sets down a photo and points to the girl in the picture) Who’s this? (Epps tries to stand in order to get a better look at the photo, but his handcuffs and body chains stop him halfway) Ohhh! That’s right. You’re chained.


(Booth chuckles, then makes a mock-serious face as if he’d actually forgotten that fact)


EPPS: (still bent over, his face close to Booth’s) How about removing these shackles?


BOOTH: The name, Howie. The name.


(Epps glances at the photo, face void of any emotion, but instead of answering he slowly sits back down in his chair)


EPPS: You know … those hack doctors at the prison infirmary … did a miserable job setting my wrist. (squeezes his wrist slowly as he talks) It aches all the time, and I don’t have a full range of movement. (looks slightly amused, trying to get a rise out of Booth) And let me tell you, when you’re stuck in a prison cell for 23 hours a day, there’s really only one thing you can do to pass the time. And I need my wrist.


BOOTH: (brief pause) Well, I’m sure Doctor Brennan would be … happy to re-break it for you.


(Booth picks up the file folder and taps it on the table with both hands)


EPPS: What’s that?


BOOTH: (his tone level and enticing) What, these? These are crime scene photos, the ones you like. Tell you what. You, ah – you tell me the girl’s name, I’ll, uh, let you take a look.


EPPS: Everything you need to win the game is right there in front of you.


BOOTH: Game? (mock scoffs) You’re bored, huh? (leans in a little) Are you playing us?


EPPS: (leans in close, his face impassive) When Doctor Brennan figures it out, come and see me again. But bring your lady scientist. Otherwise … I don’t say a word.


BOOTH: (levels his gaze at Epps) Next time you see either one of us, they’ll be giving you a lethal injection.


(Booth stands, the guard opens the door for him, and he leaves without looking back, as Epps watches him)



(Fade to: Jeffersonian – Medico Legal Lab – Platform. Brennan and Zack are standing hunched over the skeletal remains, working. Booth sits near the head of the exam table.)


ZACK: Classic game theory. Throwing down of the gauntlet.


BOOTH: What?


ZACK: Conflict of interest arises followed by a series of moves from which divergent strategies can be discerned.


BOOTH: (turns to Brennan) What did he say?


BRENNAN: (not looking up, as she examines the skeleton carefully) Epps is playing us.


BOOTH: Yes. That’s exactly what I said.


ZACK: (not looking at Booth either, also examining the skeleton) Zero sum, obviously. After a few moves, we’ll know Epps’s order of preference.


BOOTH: What did he say?


BRENNAN: We’ll find out what Epps wants.


BOOTH: Look, I already know what he wants. (to Zack) I told you. He wants Bones sitting across the table from him.


BRENNAN: Three rational players. Me, Booth, and Epps. (looks up at Zack) What about the nondeliberative agent?


BOOTH: (to Zack) What did she say?


ZACK: (inspecting the ribs) In a game, there tends to be one “N” rational players and a nonconscious, nondeliberative agent. (looks up at Booth) What did Epps talk about before he said all the information you needed was in front of you?


BOOTH: Mom, Bones, blondes, his wrist being set badly after Bones broke it … And, um, you know, he – he made the point that he … really needed his wrist. (gives Zack a pointed look – Zack stares at him blankly, trying to figure out what he means)


(Brennan turns her head to look at Booth, who gives a half-smile)


ZACK: (realizing) Chronic masturbation. (Booth nods slightly, glancing at Brennan) The game may be all about self-gratification.


BRENNAN: The phrase he used was “right in front of us.”


BOOTH: (standing up) Yes.


ZACK: The … blonde is right in front of us.


BRENNAN: (nodding) And she has a wrist. Well, two, in fact.


BOOTH: You know, if you had a pet pig, what would you name him?


BRENNAN: (looking at him as if the answer is obvious) Jasper.




ZACK: This wrist looks completely normal.


BRENNAN: Here. The right hamate bone. (using a pair of tweezers, she holds up a small bone for Zack to consider)


BOOTH: Hamate?


ZACK: The whole coloration is off. It’s slightly greasy compared to the surrounding bone.


BRENNAN: (reaching across the skeleton to measure) It’s about … an eighth of an inch bigger than the same bone on the other side.


ZACK: This hamate bone does not belong with these remains.


BRENNAN: It belongs with a second body. There’s another victim out there, somewhere.


ZACK: (holding up the bone) Round one … goes to Howard Epps.




BRENNAN: Because he gets what he wants. Me in the room with him.


(Booth looks concerned and displeased at the thought)



(Cut to: Prison where Epps is held. A guard holds the door open as Booth and Brennan enter the viewing room from which they can see the visiting room, where Epps sits at a table with a young woman with long, mousy brown hair.)


BRENNAN: Who’s that?


BOOTH: Oh, that is, uh, Caroline Epps.


BRENNAN: Howard’s sister?


BOOTH: Uh, no. (The woman leans across the table and kisses Howard on the lips) Howard’s wife.


BRENNAN: Well, he didn’t have a wife last year.


BOOTH: Well, they got married about four months ago. (CAROLINE EPPS is escorted from the visiting room by another guard) Heads up, Bones. It’s our turn to visit the psychotic murderous maniac –


BRENNAN: (finishing for him) – bastard.


BOOTH: (cheerful voice) Hi, Mrs. Epps. I’m Special Agent Seeley Booth. (shakes Caroline’s hand) This is Doctor Brennan.


CAROLINE: Oh, Agent Booth. Howard’s told me you both saved his life last year.


BOOTH: It was our pleasure.


BRENNAN: (looks at Booth in confusion) What? I was disappointed.


CAROLINE: (to Brennan) Extending Howard’s life has given him time to come to grips with what he’s done – to ask God for forgiveness.


BOOTH: Then we did the right thing by having his execution stayed.


BRENNAN: (staring at Caroline Epps) Are you on some kind of medication?


BOOTH: (rolls his eyes) Bones.


CAROLINE: Doctor Brennan, I’m not one of those crazy women who falls in love with death row killers.


BRENNAN: Obviously, that’s exactly what you are.


BOOTH: (butts in, handing Caroline a business card) Listen, if the prison ever gives you a hard time in coming to see your husband, just give me a call. I might be able to help. (he pats her arm in over-exuberant reassurance)


CAROLINE: Thank you, Agent Booth.


BRENNAN: Are you serious? She’s crazy.


BOOTH: Chop-chop. Let’s go. (to Caroline) Thank you. Nice to see you. (he ushers Brennan past Caroline and toward Howard Epps’s visiting room)


CAROLINE: Nice to meet you both. (she exits)


BRENNAN: Why were you nice to her?


BOOTH: (whispers) Because we might need her.


EPPS: (looks delighted as Booth and Brennan enter the room) Ah. Doctor Brennan. You came.


BRENNAN: (sits, looking Epps in the eye) I got your message. We’re analyzing the wrist bone right now.


BOOTH: (sits, smirking) We just met your wife. (Epps’s eyes don’t leave Brennan’s face, so Booth snaps his fingers to get Epps’s attention) She seems very nice.


EPPS: (scathing tone) Caroline’s a hairdresser. (returns his laser focus back to Brennan) I’m glad you came. I hope you come back after you analyze the bone. Caroline’s the best I could do in here. (he smiles)


BOOTH: (squinting at Epps) Yeah, not your usual type, Howie. I mean, not young, not blonde.


BRENNAN: Not dead.


BOOTH: (never taking his eyes off of Epps) Bones, could you please shut up?


BRENNAN: (looks at him, surprised) Excuse me?


BOOTH: Is this why you duct-tape their mouths? Because that – (Booth nods at Epps) – I understand.


EPPS: (leans forward in his chair, staring at Booth for several moments before responding) That’s the lamest attempt at bonding I have ever seen.


(Booth doesn’t move or blink. Brennan looks down at the table.)


EPPS: (closes his eyes for a moment, sniffing the air deeply) You smell that?


BOOTH: What? My stinky effort to bond?


EPPS: Antiseptic. My mother smelled like that. (leans back in his chair) Obsessed with germs. She washed her hands with ammonia. Mine, too. (pause) My one regret – I didn’t make her my first victim. (looks to Brennan with a fixed gaze) Put her under a little stone cross years ago.


BRENNAN: Okay. (nodding at Epps, understanding what he’s telling her – he smiles)


BOOTH: “Okay” what?


BRENNAN: (touches Booth’s back as she gets up to leave) Okay.


BOOTH: (immediately) Okay. (Booth stands up quickly, never taking his eyes off Epps. Brennan knocks on the door to exit.)



(Cut to: Jeffersonian – Medico Legal Lab – Exam room with floor-to-ceiling drawers full of bones. Brennan is back at the exam table, looking over the skeleton for clues, as Booth stands at the head of the table)


BOOTH: Don’t be mad at me, Bones. My telling you to shut up was a ploy.


BRENNAN: Now he thinks you’re an idiot.


BOOTH: Game theory, Bones, okay? (as if reciting) For two players to gain advantage over the one, they must be distinct from each other.


BRENNAN: Where’d you get that?


ZACK: (entering room) From me. I suggested that you be the smart one.


BOOTH: Which, you know, left me making a ploy that, uh, was supposed to be lame. (smirks, pleased with his clever plan)


BRENNAN: (looks up at him, shaking her head, dead serious) Don’t enjoy this.


BOOTH: What?


(Booth and Zack share a pleased look as though they thought they had worked out a smart game strategy)


BRENNAN: The only reason I am playing his game is to discover the identity of this young woman.


(Booth is quiet, nodding to show he acknowledges her point)


ZACK: (sobering) Well, we’ve made no progress on that.


BRENNAN: Check the junior golf leagues. Given the amount of wear to her shoulder, elbow and spine, she must have started golfing at an early age.


(Zack exits as Hodgins enters the room)


HODGINS: I found minute traces of gypsum and selenium on the mystery wrist bone. Also, phenolphthalein, which is a kind of laxative. (pulls a small rolling metal table next to him and leans on it)


BOOTH: Laxatives show up in bones?


BRENNAN: No, not even after years of ingestion.


HODGINS: The laxative is on the surface of the bone. I – I have no explanation.


BRENNAN: We have scoured every inch of her, X-rayed her, run her through an M.R.I. – what clue are we missing?


HODGINS: The laxative is the one thing that makes no sense. (looks to Booth) Last time, it was masturbation. Did he reference bowel movements?


BRENNAN: (glances to Booth as well) He mentioned his mother was a germophobe, scrubbing his hands with ammonia – (realizing, looking to Hodgins for him to understand too) – Ammonia.


HODGINS: Ammonia. Ohhh! (he stands up from leaning against the table, gesturing exuberantly, now seeing the clue) Why didn’t you say so? (he walks out of the room)


BOOTH: (still confused) Ammonia?



(Cut to: Hodgins’ gloved hand holding tweezers, reaching into a clear glass cylinder to place the hamate bone inside, as Zack comes around the table to set a small machine next to Hodgins.)


HODGINS: Booth thinks we should get together and buy Brennan a pet.


ZACK: What kind of a pet? (he hooks up a hose to the glass case as Hodgins places a lid on the top)


HODGINS: A pig. And I don’t think he means a guinea pig. A real pig. Like a Mulefoot, Saddleback, or pot belly.


CAM: (entering the lab room) You want to expose a piece of crucial evidence to ammonia gas? (pause) No.


HODGINS: Besides being a laxative, phenolphthalein is a sensitive pH indicator.


(Cam’s arms cross, resolute)


ZACK: Colorless, unless it’s exposed to ammonia.


CAM: The second you expose this bone, it’s useless. Epps wants you to destroy evidence.


HODGINS: Why would he want us to destroy evidence he planted?


CAM: Why would he plant evidence at all?


ZACK: It might be a win-win scenario for him. If his endgame is to disorient Doctor Brennan, he can do that by – (Zack pauses to make his point) – ruining evidence that he himself planted.


CAM: (holds up her hand) Fine. You can perform the experiment. (Hodgins looks triumphant as Cam reaches for the safety glasses and puts them on) So, glasses. (Zack and Hodgins reach for their own glasses as Cam turns the valve to release the ammonia gas, exposing the bone fragment to its vapors)


(All three scientists bend down as the gas fills the case, illuminated by a hazy cobalt blue light. As the smoke clears, a small shape can be seen etched on the bone.)


CAM: What is that?


ZACK: Not sure.


(Zack brings over a camera on a crane, in order to capture the image to their computer and zoom in on the marking. The design is of two distinct hammers crossed over each other in an “X” at the handles.)


HODGINS: A Freemason symbol? (studying it intently) Hey, this explains the “buried facedown” thing. Oh, it’s all starting to come together. (Cam waits, wide-eyed, and Zack squints at him) These crossed hammers prove that Epps is working for the top level of the Illuminati.


ZACK: (interrupts, frowning) That’s the cartographic symbol for a mine.


HODGINS: (looks at the symbol again) Oh.


(Hodgins looks slightly disappointed as Zack gives him a look)


CAM: Epps is telling us that the second victim’s in a mine? What kind of mine?


HODGINS: One that contains gypsum and selenium.



(Cut to: Booth’s vehicle heading toward the metal gate entrance to a mining site.)


BRENNAN: (to Booth) In prison, Epps mentioned a stone cross. That’s what we should be looking for inside. (getting out of the vehicle) Okay, this is the only abandoned gypsum mine within Epps’s known killing ground to also contain selenium.


BOOTH: Six entrances, hundreds of shafts, and half of it’s flooded. (lifts up the police tape so Brennan and he can duck under it) All right. You just follow my lead and watch yourself in there, okay? Thank you.


(Booth and Brennan enter the mine shaft, shining their flashlights ahead – there are many agents walking about the area)


BRENNAN: I don’t think Epps would make it that hard for us.


BOOTH: Yeah, well, Epps said he wished he’d buried his mother under a stone cross. I bet that is a hint. (calls out loudly) Okay, people, listen up! I’m calling in a “splunking” team –


BRENNAN: Spelunking. (she crosses in front of him to reach a corner of the mine, her attention already on something specific)


BOOTH: – Spelunking team with imaging capabilities to look for a stone cross. Until they get here, let’s focus on the ventilation shafts – (to Brennan, who is trying to get Booth’s attention) Hold on – (back to the investigative crew) to the west of the main shafts – (Brennan taps him on the shoulder again and gestures with her flashlight) What? Oh. (calls to the rest of the crew) Never mind. (they head toward a shaft behind Booth) Can we get some, ah, light down this shaft, please?


(Brennan and Booth shine their flashlights, illuminating a stack of rocks that are piled meticulously in the shape of a thick cross)


BRENNAN: It’s the cross, Booth.


BOOTH: That is, uh, definitely a cross.


(Booth squats down near the rocks)


BRENNAN: Will you help me move these? (she sets her pack down and adjusts her flashlight)


BOOTH: Move what?


BRENNAN: The rocks.


(Booth sticks the end of his flashlight in his mouth, lighting his way, and Brennan starts from the other side, as they both pick up and shift rocks, one by one. Grunting, Booth moves one, uncovering a skull underneath.)


BOOTH: (spits out his flashlight) Bones! Ohhh … (grimaces at the sight and probably the smell) Ughhh. (sighs as he bends down to shine his light on the face of the skeleton, for Brennan to see)


BRENNAN: (joins him, her head close to his) Well, it’s definitely human, but –


BOOTH: What? (makes a face again, as if he might retch from the disgusting smell)


BRENNAN: Well, Cam can be more precise, but I don’t think this is more than a week old.


BOOTH: Epps has been in prison for seven years – (looks grim) – which means he has an accomplice killing people, on the outside.


BRENNAN: God, I wonder how many more there are.


(Pan down to a close-up of the new victim’s shiny wet skull as the scene fades to black)







(Cut to: Jeffersonian – Medico Legal Lab – Exam room. Pan left from a monitor – with a close-up of Cam’s gloved hand pulling back a section of tissue – to Brennan and Cam standing over a lab table, inspecting the latest victim’s body.)


CAM: This is where the hamate bone was taken.


BRENNAN: (dictating into a hand-held recorder) The victim is female, mid-teens.


CAM: Extensive contusions around the ankles.


(Close-up of bruising and marks from restraints on an ankle)


BRENNAN: (studying various X-rays) Yes, and bone damage, too. Hip displacement … elongation of the spine.


(The screen whites out and flashes to a pan down from a length of chain to a panicked, screaming woman whose wrists are bound, her blonde hair hanging down, before flashing back to Brennan in the present moment)


BRENNAN: He hung her upside down.


CAM: I agree. And while she was still alive, too. (nasty close-up of the victim’s partially decomposed face) Is that part of Epps’s M.O.? (she looks up from her work to Brennan)




CAM: (soberly looks down at the body again) So his accomplice threw in some flair of his own.


BRENNAN: (paces, thinking) Nine years ago, Epps kills someone and buries her. He goes to jail seven years ago.


CAM: Last week, his accomplice kills another girl and swapped wrist bones with the girl Epps buried nine years ago.


(Close-up of the swollen, discolored wrist and hand of the victim)


BRENNAN: How do they communicate?


CAM: Inmates are allowed phone calls, visitors, letters … but those are all monitored.


BRENNAN: He has a wife.


CAM: Look at this. (she brings a light closer to the flesh, to emphasize the marking) It’s a burn. Cigarette, probably. (Brennan shakes her head, troubled, as Cam reaches to a tray nearby and opens a small, clear petrie dish container) And, there’s this. It was jammed in her shoe.


(Cam lifts out a long golden chain with a locket or medallion of some sort hanging from it – the design on its face notes a carving of a woman, possibly a nun or a saint)


BRENNAN: What? She wasn’t wearing it? (Cam shakes her head)


(Angela enters quietly, holding a file folder)


ANGELA: The, uh, mine victim’s dental work identifies her as Sarah Koskoff, Bethesda, Maryland. Disappeared three weeks ago. Sixteen years old.


BRENNAN: (studies the file and the picture of Sarah attached at the top of the page) Sarah Koskoff. She fits Epps’s victim profile perfectly.



(Cut to: Booth’s vehicle driving over a bridge near the Jefferson Memorial. The sound of a ringing office phone overlaps the scene.)


(Cut to: Brennan’s office, where she picks up her telephone receiver)


BRENNAN: Brennan.


BOOTH: (voice on the other end of the call) Yeah, Bones, it’s me.


(Cut to: Booth in his vehicle, driving while talking on his cell phone)


BOOTH: Listen, I talked to Sarah Koskoff’s parents. They said her dream was to own her own beauty shop. She worked for a hair salon in the city.


(Cut to: Brennan, on her phone)


BRENNAN: Don’t tell me.


(Cut back to Booth in his car)


BOOTH: Yep. “M” Salon, Cleveland Park. Owned by Caroline Mapother.


(Cut back to Brennan in her office, nodding as she sees the connection)


BRENNAN: Now known as Caroline Epps.


(Cut back to Booth in his car)


BOOTH: You know, you remember when I was nice to her and you weren’t? This is why.



(Cut to: “M” Salon. A close-up of a framed photograph of Caroline and Howard Epps sits next to the cash register.)


CAROLINE: Thank you. (gives a customer her change and continues working as the customer exits and Booth enters)


BOOTH: (still standing near the door, a benign smile on his face) Hi.


CAROLINE: (looks up from her desk, surprised to see him) Hi.


(Booth flips the “Yes, We’re Open” sign on the door to “Closed – Please Call Again”)


CAROLINE: Is – is Howard okay?


BOOTH: Howard’s fine, Mrs. Epps. You don’t have to worry about anything. (still casual, leaning against one of the glass shelves nearby) I couldn’t help but notice the “Help Wanted” sign in the window. Did you recently lose one of your employees?


CAROLINE: (makes her way from behind the counter and continues her work, returning items to a stylist’s station) It’s, uh, hard to keep help that doesn’t steal from you.


BOOTH: (intentionally laid-back, handling a bottle of hair product and glancing at his fingernails for a moment before looking at Caroline) Sarah Koskoff steal from you?


(Caroline stops what she’s doing for a moment, looking up at herself in the mirror in front of her, then meeting Booth’s eyes from the mirror’s vantage point)


CAROLINE: No. Why? (resumes her work) What did she do?


(Booth’s face is serious – no more games now)


BOOTH: She died.


(Caroline freezes, her brow furrowing – she turns slowly to gaze at Booth)


BOOTH: You know, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you … but when was the last time you saw her?


CAROLINE: Uh, three weeks ago. She just … stopped coming to work. She – she died?


BOOTH: Did you ever, uh, talk to Howard about her? (he lowers himself onto one of the styling chairs, swiveling minutely as he watches Caroline, intently studying her reactions)


CAROLINE: (confused) Uh, I don’t know. Maybe.


BOOTH: Howard ever see a picture of Sarah?


CAROLINE: (visibly uncomfortable now) I – I don’t like this. What’s going on?


BOOTH: She was found buried face down in an abandoned mine. Back of her head bashed in; wrists, ankles tied. Your husband’s M.O.


(As she turns back to face the mirror, Caroline’s face reads as somewhat saddened, but it’s difficult to tell yet if the sorrow is genuine)


CAROLINE: Poor Sarah. (she spies a picture of herself and Howard, on the station table in front of her) But Howard – Howard has been in prison for the last seven years. (she turns back to Booth) How could he kill anyone?


BOOTH: He has an accomplice.


CAROLINE: You think it’s me?


BOOTH: You love your husband.


CAROLINE: I love the good in Howard. I reject the evil. (smiles with genuine joy) We’re going to have a child together. I’ve petitioned the court to let Howard donate.


BOOTH: Yeah. (clears throat) I have a search warrant here for your home and your shop.


CAROLINE: You don’t need a search warrant. (Booth blinks, but says nothing) You can look anywhere you want, because you won’t find anything. (Now it’s Caroline who’s making the benign face at Booth)



(Cut to: Brennan’s office. Brennan is sitting up, legs stretched out on her couch, listening to Booth talk as she looks pensively at the necklace found in Sarah Koskoff’s shoe. Booth is perched near the couch arm at the end of the sofa, gazing at the floor, somber.)


BOOTH: Sarah Koskoff was hung upside down before she was killed. That suggests the torture route. (pause) And I was hoping … it was in the basement of a beauty salon. (Brennan looks up at him) But, uh, my agents, they didn’t find anything. (finally meets her eyes and notices that Brennan is fiddling with something) What’s that?


BRENNAN: Religious medal. (hands it over to him) Sarah had it in her possession.


BOOTH: St. Agnes. Patron saint of young women … especially those who remain pure.


BRENNAN: How do you know all that?


BOOTH: I’m Catholic, Bones. (he hands the medal back to her)


BRENNAN: (reads inscription on the medal) S.A.H.S.


BOOTH: Yeah, St. Agnes High School. (considers this a moment) Except … I think Sarah Koskoff went to public school. Oh, God.


BRENNAN: (sits up and leans toward him) What? What does that mean?


BOOTH: It means … I have to go talk to a nun.



(Cut to: Booth’s office at the F.B.I. A nun with a narrow, well-lined face and a meticulous demeanor sits across from Booth at his desk.)


SISTER KAREN DUNNE: We have no student at St. Agnes named Sarah Koskoff.


BOOTH: Maybe she’s a friend of one of your girls.


DUNNE: As soon as you called me last night, we implemented a telephone tree asking precisely that question. No response.


BOOTH: Do the names Howard Epps, Caroline Epps, Caroline Mapother mean anything to you?


DUNNE: May I have the keyboard?


BOOTH: (quickly accommodating) Yes, Sister. Yeah, of course. Here. (chuckles nervously)


(Booth looks on, but the nun pauses – she clearly does not want him to watch what she types)


DUNNE: (reproachful look) I need to enter a password.


BOOTH: Oh, yeah. I’ll be right over here. (swivels in his chair so he’s not looking at the monitor or her typing) I’m Catholic. I – I go to mass every Sunday. (anxiously fiddling with his hands) Well, almost every Sunday. I’m very trustworthy.


(On the monitor, an online database labeled St. Agnes High School pops up a black box that reads “No Match.”)


DUNNE: Nobody by any of those names. (Booth turns back in his chair to face her again) I feel that I have been very patient in regard to not asking what this is about.


BOOTH: Oh, yeah. (reaches into his pocket for the jewelry) Murder victim. A young girl was, uh, found with this religious medal.


(The nun takes the medal from Booth and examines it closely a few seconds before she recognizes its origin and sharply looks up at Booth in surprise and apprehension.)


DUNNE: Helen Majors.


BOOTH: Helen Majors. Who’s that?


DUNNE: This golden medal is given to the Holy Spirit Award winner every year. I presented this medal to Helen Majors myself.


BOOTH: (respectfully) May we … please … see Helen Majors? Talk to her?


DUNNE: Helen left school three days ago. No one has seen her since. (Booth looks concerned)



(Cut to: A photograph in Brennan’s hand – a scene from the Holy Spirit Award presentation between Sister Karen Dunne and Helen Majors, both women standing behind a podium, smiling. Brennan is riding passenger-side in Booth’s vehicle as he drives.)


BRENNAN: Three days ago, Helen had that medal. Yesterday, we found it with Sarah Koskoff’s dead body. It’s possible Helen is still alive.


BOOTH: We have Caroline Epps under surveillance. (his cell phone rings; Booth reaches into his suit coat pocket)


BRENNAN: (exasperated sigh) I hate this.


BOOTH: (answering his phone) Booth.


BRENNAN: I don’t want to find that girl’s remains in some mine, Booth.


BOOTH: (glances at her as he listens to the caller speaking) Reiner Hatin? Address. 7408 Haskell Street, Cleveland Park. (hangs up his cell phone and reaches for the C.B. radio handset) Uh, 22705 to Control. I’m en route to a possible H.R.T. incident at 7408 Haskell Street. Requesting backup.


MAN ON RADIO: Affirmative, 22705. 7408 Haskell.


BRENNAN: (looks to Booth, uncertain what all that means) What?


BOOTH: Epps’s prison letters log show in the last year he wrote six letters to a man by the name of Reiner Hatin at that address. Caroline Epps might not be Epps’s accomplice after all. (Brennan reaches up near the roof of Booth’s vehicle, poking around) What are you doing?


BRENNAN: Where’s the siren on this thing?


BOOTH: (slaps her hand away) Don’t touch – (gives her a look that says “Do I mess with your stuff?” as he turns on the siren himself)



(Cut to: Siren still wailing as their vehicle pulls into the neighborhood of 7408 Haskell Street. Booth and Brennan both get out of the vehicle.)


BOOTH: Okay, Bones, I’m going in. You’re gonna wait outside.


BRENNAN: Booth –


BOOTH: (thinks she’s protesting) No, I don’t want to hear it. All right? (pulls out his weapon and racks the slide, before positioning his hands on the weapon, preparing to use it if necessary) When backup arrives, tell ’em there’s a federal agent inside.


BRENNAN: (gesturing, but Booth is not paying attention to her) But, the –


BOOTH: (looks around) Which one is it?


(Brennan clears her throat and points behind them)


BOOTH: Great. A vacant lot.


BRENNAN: I tried to tell you.


(They both stand there, frustrated and back to square one for the time being, as police cars pull up to the scene, lights flashing and sirens wailing.)







(Cut to: Prison where Epps resides. Booth and Brennan are back in the visiting room with him.)


EPPS: Did you hear? I’m gonna be a father. The judge granted our petition for artificial insemination. (turns to Brennan, looking mildly smug) When I make my donation to the baby bank, I’m gonna be thinking about you.


(Brennan looks repulsed)


BOOTH: Who’s Reiner Hatin?


EPPS: Oh, Reiner. (starts speaking German, which Booth doesn’t understand but Brennan seems to)


BOOTH: The letters were addressed to a vacant lot.


EPPS: I must’ve written the address down wrong. I’m slightly dyslexic, you know.


BOOTH: (leans in, all casual) Hey, come here. (Epps leans in slightly, too) You know, I really enjoyed – (he reaches under the table and yanks on Epps’s body chain, forcing Howard forward until his head hits the table) – playing your game. (The side of Howard’s face is pressed against the tabletop, and Booth leans in close, starting out with a harsh whisper that elevates with his anger) Now, you know what? There is a girl out there, hanging upside down with duct tape over her mouth!


BRENNAN: Booth, let him go. (puts her hand on Booth’s shoulder, trying to reach him through his anger) Let him go!


(Booth lets go and stands up in one violent swoop, turning to exit the room. Epps sits up slowly, at first hunched over, then nonchalantly straightening to full height in his chair. He seems more amused by Booth’s fury, not upset at all. As Booth leaves, Brennan bends forward to face Epps, eye to eye.)


BRENNAN: For all your … faults, Mister Epps, you were never interested in letting your victims suffer. You didn’t torture them. You’re not that kind of man. (Epps blinks but says nothing, so Brennan presses further) She’s an innocent child.


EPPS: (his face a bit more menacing now) She’s a young woman … and there’s no such thing as an innocent woman. Look within yourself. You know I’m right. (smiles indecipherably) You know, I’m just guessing here, you understand, but I think you’ll find that Helen Majors has less than 24 hours to live.


(Brennan sits back, considering this information)


EPPS: (sing-songs, with a sliver of a smirk on his lips) Better get going.


(As Brennan gets up from the table, she “accidentally” jerks the chain with her foot, slamming Epps headfirst to the table surface again.)


BRENNAN: (looks back at him unapologetically, with contempt) Sorry.


(As she leaves the room, Epps winces for a brief second before sitting up and laughing maniacally)



(Fade to: Brennan’s office – Angela is sitting, placing markers on a skull, as Brennan paces.)


ANGELA: What are you asking me for?


BRENNAN: You said you’ve dealt with manipulative men before.


ANGELA: Sweetie, this is a psycho killer, not some loser who wants you to cosign a loan for his Jet Ski.


BRENNAN: Epps is pushing me around, Ange. He’s in control. I hate that. (plops down in a chair, facing Angela, who smiles knowingly)


ANGELA: You know, Epps is acting kind of like a boyfriend.


BRENNAN: (half-laughs, incredulous) What?


ANGELA: Well, you obviously fascinate him. He can’t have you, and he can’t kill you. (Brennan is listening now) So … he wants to make you hate yourself.


BRENNAN: God, Ange. What kind of boyfriends have you had?


ANGELA: (mild smile) Let’s keep the focus on you and Epps, okay?


BRENNAN: (smiles back, nodding) Okay.


ANGELA: Epps knows that you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t find Helen Majors before she’s murdered.


BRENNAN: Not only is Helen being tortured, but … her family must be in agony.


ANGELA: You see? This is what he’s doing. (leans forward, speaking with a gentle tone) He’s putting pictures in your mind. He’s messing with your objectivity.


BRENNAN: There’s nothing I can do about that. (she looks down, miserable)


ANGELA: You have to step back, okay? (Brennan looks up again, meeting Angela’s eyes) Let the rest of us deal with the families. You find Helen. That’ll keep Epps from … getting a Jet Ski outta you.


(Brennan smiles at Angela gratefully)



(Cut to: Jeffersonian – Medico Legal Lab – Platform. Brennan is studying evidence on a computer monitor, as Booth weaves his way to her work station.)


BOOTH: Bones. Caroline Epps – not an accomplice. She was at work when Helen Majors was kidnapped.


BRENNAN: (speaking German, quoting from the phrase Epps used) “Alter Freund mit ähnlichem Geschmack.”


BOOTH: Yeah, whatever.


BRENNAN: It means “old friend with similar tastes” in German.


BOOTH: (skeptical) Oh, no. Epps tellin’ us the name of his accomplice? That’s too easy. (he starts to walk away)


BRENNAN: Well, if it’s too easy, then why can’t we find him? (she gets up and joins him)


BOOTH: You know what? He talked about impregnating Caroline.


BRENNAN: (frustrated groan) What is with Caroline Epps? I mean, why have a child with a monster like him? What is she gonna tell the child when it grows up? “Hi, your daddy’s a monster.”


BOOTH: (pauses at the top of the stairs) Look look look. Time out. You gotta detach from this, all right? We let Epps get under our skin, it’s exactly what he wants.


BRENNAN: Zack was right. Epps is trying to break us. (they head down the stairs from the platform) Not only did we save his life, but he is still killing.


HODGINS: (strides over quickly, joining Booth and Brennan as they walk) I found traces of ethylene oxide and high levels of an antibacterial agent on Sarah’s ankles. Also, polymer residue found in Polygenex latex glove liners used by people who handle toxic substances.


BRENNAN: Airport screeners, cops –


BOOTH: Wait – prison guards? (stops walking and pulls out his cell phone from his pants pocket)


(Brennan and Hodgins stop walking and turn back to look at Booth, as Zack walks up with a file of notes and a photograph)


ZACK: Lauren Hathaway was a nationally ranked junior golfer in 1997.


(Hodgins sits down at a computer as Brennan takes the photo from Zack and studies it)


BOOTH: (talking on his phone) Yeah, it’s Booth. I need to know if Howard Epps ever had a prison guard by the name of Reiner Hatin.


ZACK: She disappeared on May ninth, after leaving the Southampton Country Club in Raleigh, North Carolina.


BOOTH: (still on his phone) Check and see if any guard changed his name.


(Booth’s eyes meet Brennan’s)


BRENNAN: Reiner is German for “pure.” Epps has a thing about that.


BOOTH: (to his cell phone) Translate the name and see if that comes back in any form. Then get back to me. (hangs up his phone and reaches for the photograph) This the victim from the park?


ZACK: (to Brennan) Her father is in your office.


BRENNAN: (stunned) What?


BOOTH: Why didn’t you say that?


ZACK: You were on the phone.


BRENNAN: Booth. (clearly upset) I can’t do this one. Maybe Angela can help.


(She avoids his eyes, turning instead to look again at the picture of the girl)


BOOTH: (softly) All right. I’ll take care of it.



(Cut to: Brennan’s office. Angela sits on the couch with Lauren’s father, GRANT HATHAWAY, as Booth sits in a chair across from him.)


GRANT HATHAWAY: My wife died five years after Lauren disappeared. I think – because she just gave up hope. (long pause) Part of me is glad she’s not here today for this.


ANGELA: (as gently as possible) We’re sorry for your loss, Mister Hathaway. (he nods) For both your losses.


BOOTH: When Lauren disappeared, the police originally suspected her golf coach.


HATHAWAY: Yes. He’d had an affair with one of his students the year before. Ironically, his alibi was that he was with another student.


BOOTH: Does the name Reiner Hatin mean anything to you?


HATHAWAY: (shakes his head) No.


ANGELA: Do you recognize this man? (she holds up a photo of Howard Epps in his prison orange jumpsuit, which Hathaway takes and studies)


HATHAWAY: No. (upset now) I’m not helping, am I?


ANGELA: (calmly) That photograph is current. (Booth nods minutely, appreciating her approach) Here are some drawings that show what he might’ve looked like 10 years ago.


HATHAWAY: Hmm. (Booth watches closely as Angela shows the man one sketch, then another – the third one triggers something) Yes. That one. He was a – a greenskeeper at the club. He helped us load the car one day. I remember because he told Lauren she looked just like his mother when she was young. (Angela glances at Booth) It was an odd thing to say. (distraught) I told the police about him when she disappeared. Why didn’t they arrest him?


(Lauren’s father appears close to tears, as Angela and Booth exchange a look.)



(Cut to: Booth and Cam walking down a hallway in the Medico Legal Lab.)


BOOTH: (certain now, resolute) Caroline Epps. She knows something. She just won’t talk to me.


CAM: Why?


BOOTH: I’m a man, last time I checked.


CAM: (smirks a little) But she’ll talk to a woman?


BOOTH: That’s my thinking.


CAM: Fine. I’ll do it.


BOOTH: Oh, no. You can’t sarcasm it out of her. (Cam rolls her eyes good-naturedly) You have to connect.


CAM: You don’t wanna send Brennan?


BOOTH: No – Angela.


CAM: (surprised and unconvinced) Angela’s an artist, an expert in 3-D reconstruction.


BOOTH: Well, unlike you and Bones, Angela is, uh –


CAM: (tilts her head, waiting) What?


BOOTH: (small grin) She’s better with the living than she is the dead.


CAM: Fine. I’ll go tell her what she’s just volunteered for.


BOOTH: Thank you. (grins widely now)


(Cam shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she walks away.)



(Cut to: Royal Diner. Angela and Caroline Epps enter and sit at a table.)


ANGELA: Thanks for coming.


CAROLINE: (anxiously) I’ve told your people everything I know. I don’t see the point of this.


ANGELA: I know this is disturbing. (she pauses, searching for the right words) I find it very upsetting, and I’m … not married to the man who did it.


CAROLINE: I love Howard, Miss Montenegro.


ANGELA: (nods) I believe you.


CAROLINE: (her expression shifts to one of appreciation) No one’s ever said that to me.


ANGELA: I think you’d have to love him very much … to be willing to overlook what he’s done.


CAROLINE: Done in the past.


ANGELA: The thing is, we’re not so sure that it was in the past. (she pulls out some sketches of Epps’s victims) For Howard, it’s obvious what he likes. Blonde girls.


CAROLINE: Not me, you mean.


ANGELA: Men can’t hide what they like. For Howard, it’s this.


CAROLINE: Men can change what they look at.


ANGELA: Does Howard ever just look at you – (smiles) – as though you just feel his eyes adoring you?


(Caroline’s face falls, pained)


CAROLINE: He – he asks for magazines, DVDs. He’s – he’s very specific.


ANGELA: He likes blonde girls.


CAROLINE: (forced laugh) Always the blonde girls. (she looks up at Angela, her face hopeful) M-maybe if I – if I dyed my hair –


ANGELA: (saddened by Caroline’s desperation to please Epps) I’m sorry. (pauses, trying to change the subject delicately) I have to ask you something … Have you ever delivered any messages for Howard?


CAROLINE: Don’t you miss them?


ANGELA: I’m sorry?


CAROLINE: (struggling to get the words out) I wrote the message “Don’t you miss them?” on a – on a – on a piece of paper, and slipped it into a mailbox.


ANGELA: Whose mailbox?


CAROLINE: Um, a man named Henry Gerber who Howard knew from prison. Howard calls Henry “The Mad German.”


ANGELA: When did you deliver the message?


CAROLINE: F – five days ago.


ANGELA: Thank you. (moves to get up from the table)


CAROLINE: (reaches out to Angela, stopping her) C – Can – can – will you sit with me … just a moment longer? (her eyes are filled with tears)


ANGELA: (pauses) I’m – I have to make a phone call. You understand? (Angela is uncomfortable, but compassionately places her hands over Caroline’s) But after that, I’ll sit with you … as long as you like. (Caroline looks appreciative as Angela gets up and walks away)



(Cut to: Booth busting through the door of a house, Brennan following right behind him – HENRY GERBER is sitting in front of the television, watching a pornographic film.)


BOOTH: (gun drawn, pointed at Gerber) F.B.I. Hands in the air. (Gerber raises his hands gradually) That’s it. (gestures to the left) Now move over there slowly. (Gerber makes a move to lower one of his hands) Ah! Keep your hands where I can see ’em.


GERBER: I can’t do both.


BRENNAN: (notices something her partner hasn’t) Booth.


(Booth approaches Gerber guardedly, his gun pointed at the man. As Booth makes his way around the couch, Gerber watches him, hands still up in the air.)


BOOTH: Easy.


(When Booth comes around the couch in a half-circle, he sees the man is actually sitting in a wheelchair.)


BOOTH: Aw, geez. Where’s Henry Gerber?


GERBER: (irritated) I’m Henry Gerber.


(Brennan and Booth stand there, confused.)







(Cut to: Jeffersonian – Medico Legal Lab – Platform. The entire team is gathered to discuss the case.)


BRENNAN: (standing) There is no way a man in a wheelchair could have killed Sarah Koskoff or swapped hamate bones with Lauren Hathaway.


BOOTH: (also standing, pouring over a case file) All right, Epps got us again, huh? Gerber’s paralyzed from the waist down because Epps knifed him just before he was paroled. (slaps file down on a table and looks up at Brennan)


HODGINS: (sitting) So, what? His message “Don’t you miss them?” meant what, his legs?


ZACK: (also sitting, but with an admiring look on his face) Epps is good. (Hodgins stares at him, incredulous) Not morally, of course. But it’s a classic feint-and-parry misdirect, delivered via his wife.


BOOTH: (serious and slightly irritated) He gets off on screwing with people’s lives. (Zack turns solemn)


BRENNAN: Where are we on Reiner Hatin?


BOOTH: Nowhere. (he aimlessly moves about the platform, discouraged)


ZACK: I had some thoughts. Perhaps the point isn’t that German is a different language, but that it’s actually a different language. (Hodgins stands up – he and Brennan intellectually consider Zack’s double-speak while Booth turns, annoyed)


BOOTH: (sarcastic) Great. Thanks, Zack, for being so helpful.


BRENNAN: (to Zack) Go on.


ZACK: More broadly speaking, I mean, like an anagram or an inner or secret language. (turns to his computer monitor) These are phrases I found in English. Perhaps in German –


BRENNAN: No, the whole German thing was a ruse. If it’s anywhere, it’s here.


HODGINS: “Rant Herein I.” (shrugs) You know, like inner schizophrenic voices.


ZACK: “Are Inner Hit” could mean – (shakes head) – I don’t really do the poetry thing.


BOOTH: (stepping forward to take a look) “Neither Rain.” No. Neither … “Neither rain, nor sleet, nor dead of night.” (he looks to Brennan for confirmation)


BRENNAN: (nodding) The postal service motto. (Zack nods his agreement, too)


HODGINS: Hey, the guy’s all about sending messages.


BOOTH: Mail to an empty lot. Messages dropped in mail slots.


HODGINS: (making the connection) Postal workers wear Polygenex gloves.


BRENNAN: Who received the letters Epps sent to that empty lot?



(Cut to: Angela’s desk, panning from her telephone at the forefront of her desk to where she sits, flanked by Booth and Brennan as they listen to a voice on the speaker phone.)


MAN AT POST OFFICE: Letters with an invalid address and no return address go to the dead letter office.


BRENNAN: Who has access?


MAN: Uh, sorting staff and the mail carrier for that route.


BOOTH: Stream us a route which includes 7408 Haskell Street, Cleveland Park, right?


MAN: Yes. But there is no 7408 Haskell Street.


ANGELA: (receiving the data on her computer) Got it.


(Booth and Brennan lean in to take a closer look at the route marked on the map)


BOOTH: Hey, that’s Caroline Epps’s beauty salon. (the salon’s name is labeled on the map)


BRENNAN: (sees another marker) That’s St. Agnes High School.


ANGELA: The killer picked his victims from a postal route.


BOOTH: Tell us the name of the mail carrier.


MAN: I can do better than that. All I ask is that when this goes to the press, nobody uses the word “disgruntled.”


(The post office employee forwards a picture of the mail carrier – it’s a familiar face. The screen whites out, flashing to the beginning scene, where the dog owner says to Booth and Brennan, “I – I’m so sorry. He – he’s never done anything like this.” Flash back to the present moment.)




BOOTH: Yeah, I got him.




BRENNAN: That’s the guy who found the first body.


BOOTH: He found it because he knew where it was buried. Let’s go. (Angela gapes as the other two leave the room)



(Cut to: Booth kicks in the door to Gil Lappin’s home and enters, gun at the ready. Gil’s dog Buddy is there, barking loudly, teeth bared.)


BOOTH: (freezes where he stands) Whoa.


BRENNAN: (stands next to Booth, not moving a muscle either) Oh, great. Him again. I’ll need a pine cone.


BOOTH: (steps forward, pointing his gun at the dog, shouting) Listen, dog, I will shoot you in the head if you don’t cut it out right now! (the dog sits immediately, whining, so Booth lowers his gun, relieved) Oh.



(Cut to: Booth opening the door to a room in Gil Lappin’s house. When he sees the room is safe, he lowers his gun. He and Brennan are grim as they survey the collage of victims’ photos all over the walls.)


BRENNAN: (stunned) Oh.


BOOTH: (disgusted) God. I hate the serial killer wall of death.


BRENNAN: (pointing to a smiling face in a photo) This is Sarah Koskoff.


BOOTH: (gesturing too) Helen Majors.


BRENNAN: They were so young, so innocent. (picks up a photo) And Lauren Hathaway.



(Cut to: Close-up on the photograph of the young golfer as the scene switches to Booth’s vehicle, at night. Booth is driving, and Brennan is sitting, passenger-side.)


BRENNAN: Southampton Country Club. That’s where Epps and his accomplice met. Lappin maintained the golf carts. (she dials a number on the car’s cell phone)


BOOTH: (frustrated and tense) He’s winning, Bones. All right? We’re this close to saving Helen Majors’s life. We’re running out of time.


HODGINS: (voice heard over the cell phone speaker) Yeah.


BRENNAN: Hodgins, it’s me.


(Cut to: Hodgins at the Medico Legal Lab, where he sits at a desk, phone held up to his ear)


BRENNAN: (voice heard from over Hodgins’ phone) Is there anything you can tell us about where Sarah Koskoff was held –


(Cut back to Brennan in the car, on the phone)


BRENNAN: (continues) – before her body was dumped in the gypsum mine?


(Cut back to Hodgins at the lab)


HODGINS: The only substance I can’t explain is ethylene oxide.


(Cut back to Brennan and Booth in the car, listening intently)


BRENNAN: Well, what about the ethylene oxide, plus … the antibacterial agents?


(Cut back to Hodgins at the lab, as he puts the call on speakerphone and sets down the receiver)


HODGINS: (shaking his head, getting frustrated) It – it could be a lot of things.


(Cut to Brennan and Booth in the car, exchanging a tense look; cut back to Hodgins in the lab as he stands up)


HODGINS: I’ll set up a statistical model, give you four or five scenarios.


(Cut to Brennan and Booth in the car. Booth is out of patience.)


BOOTH: There is NO time. A girl’s life is at stake here.


(Cut back to Hodgins in the lab, his head bowed, listening to Booth’s angry voice on the speakerphone. Hodgins’ work has never had so much on the line before – all his previous research has involved general locations, or victims who were already dead.)


BOOTH: Just give me your best guess right now!


(Cut quickly from Booth in the car, to Hodgins in the lab)


HODGINS: (bracing himself against the edge of the desk, visibly upset, almost yelling now) I can’t just guess! I have a process!


(He drops his head, emotionally distraught and intense)


(Cut to Booth in the car, waiting, and back to Hodgins, who lifts his head and admits his fear)


HODGINS: What if I guess and the girl dies? (shakes his head emphatically) No. No way!


(He stands up and puts his hands on his hips, freaked out, as Angela enters the area, approaching Hodgins carefully, alarmed to see him this way – Booth’s voice can be heard over the speakerphone again)


BOOTH: All right. Simmer down, Hodgins. We’re all – we’re all just trying to do our best in this situation right now.


(Hodgins covers his mouth with one hand, listening, stressed out)


ANGELA: Jack. (Hodgins looks up at her)


(Cut to Brennan and Booth in the car)


BRENNAN: Hodgins, are you still there?


(Cut back to the lab, where Hodgins returns his focus to the phone, distracted by Brennan’s question)


ANGELA: Hey. (Hodgins turns to her, tense and shaken) Pretend it’s me asking, okay? (she is calm and smiling) Look, we’re just exchanging theories here at work like always. (Hodgins blinks, visibly calming down) Two substances, right? Put them in the same place at the same time. (his breathing is more controlled now; he’s settling down and listening to what she’s saying) Either they mean something or they don’t.


(Cut to Brennan and Booth in the car)


BOOTH: Hodgins, you there, buddy?


(Cut back to Hodgins in the lab, losing his concentration, tensing up again, his fingers pressing against his forehead)


HODGINS: Yeah. (voice desperate) Just give me a second, please.


(Cut to Booth in the car, irritated now)


BOOTH: We don’t have a second!


(Cut back to Angela and Hodgins in the lab. The extra pressure from Booth is not helping things – Hodgins looks up at the ceiling, stressed out and upset, while Angela attempts to keep her cool.)


ANGELA: (tightening her hands into fists, trying to be as diplomatic as possible) Booth, do you think you could just … stop talking, please?


(Cut to Brennan and Booth in the car. Booth gives Brennan an edgy look, but gives in and stays quiet.)


(Cut back to Angela in the lab, trying to get Hodgins to calm down and focus again. She looks to him, her face tranquil and expectant; he takes a breath.)


HODGINS: Okay. All right. (searching the facts) Uh, antibacterial agents. And uh, he – he’s a postal worker.




HODGINS: (frustrated sigh) Uh –


ANGELA: (encouraging) What else, Jack?


(Hodgins looks at her, shaking his head, thinking)


(Cut to Brennan and Booth in the car. Booth leans forward a bit as he drives, waiting, anxious but silent.)


(Cut back to Hodgins as he looks upon Angela’s face while considering the scientific possibilities)


HODGINS: Anthrax.


(Cut to Brennan and Booth in the car. Booth nods encouragement that Hodgins can’t see.)


BRENNAN: Anthrax?


(Cut back to Hodgins in the lab, his eyes still fixed intently on Angela’s. He breaks the gaze and turns to face the phone, to explain.)


HODGINS: After the Anthrax attacks in 2001, the post office shut down several … sorting centers.


(Cut to Booth in the car, listening carefully, trying to see the angle)


BOOTH: (nodding) Okay. All right.


(Cut back to the lab – Hodgins is still staring at the telephone)


ANGELA: Tell me. (Hodgins looks up at her again – it’s all coming together)


HODGINS: Uh, they used ethylene oxide and this antibacterial … agent, to – (turns his attention back to the phone) – That’s how they cleaned ’em. Not all of ’em reopened.


(Cut to Brennan in the car, considering this information)


BRENNAN: So, it’s possible Sarah was kept at an abandoned sorting center. (she looks to Booth)


(Cut to Hodgins in the lab, his eyes on Angela again)


HODGINS: Yes. (he smiles at Angela, who smiles radiantly back at him as he turns to the telephone, nodding) Yes, it is. (he’s breathing heavily)


(Cut to Brennan and Booth in the car)


BOOTH: I knew you’d come through for me, buddy. Good work.


(Cut back to the lab, where Angela is smiling and nodding at Hodgins supportively)


HODGINS: Whew. (he’s relieved and smiling back at Angela, immensely grateful)



(Cut to: Booth’s vehicle moving down the street, at night.)



(Cut to: Booth and Brennan entering an abandoned sorting center, Booth taking the lead, his gun ready. Brennan is behind him, carrying a flashlight.)


BOOTH: (sighs) All right. (he reaches down to his ankle, pulls out a small pistol from a hidden holster, and hands it to Brennan begrudgingly) Here.


BRENNAN: I didn’t even have to ask.


(They slowly make their way through the center, Booth attentively checking for potential hiding places and shadows)


BOOTH: Yeah, well, just be careful, all right? Don’t shoot me. Don’t shoot Helen Majors. Otherwise – (he shuts up at the sound of chains rattling and exchanges a look with Brennan – the sound is coming from up ahead, potentially from an upper level reachable by a metal ladder or around a dark corner where there are a couple of entryways)


(Booth advances slowly, cautiously, his eyes everywhere. Both Brennan and Booth reach the entryway and peer inside – they see Helen Majors, crying softly, hanging upside down by her ankles from a length of chain.)


HELEN MAJORS: Please? (they make their way around in order to reach her as she calls to them again, sobbing) Please?


(Booth and Brennan run to her, Booth holstering his gun as they come to the area where Helen is hanging)


BOOTH: Helen?


HELEN: (crying) Please – please help me.


(Brennan switches on a nearby light as Booth reaches Helen)


BOOTH: All right. Okay. (Helen is hyperventilating) Take it easy. I got you. (he holds her from underneath, supporting her back, shoulders and hips, easing her down slowly as Brennan helps to lower the chain) I got you, I got you, all right? (he gently lays her down on the ground) Where is he?


HELEN: He just left. I don’t know where he went.


BOOTH: (intensely insistent) Bones, stay here with her. Stay right there. (he pulls out his gun again and exits the room)


HELEN: (looking to Brennan) Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.


(Brennan kneels down beside the girl and looks over to the space where Booth just exited)


(Cut to a long shadowy hallway within the sorting center, as Booth makes his way, searching for the kidnapper. He advances slowly, shining his flashlight here and there, illuminating dark corners and spaces. He turns his head for one moment, and as he rounds the corner, turning his head to focus forward again, Gil Lappin jumps out at him from the shadows. He viciously strikes Booth in the arm with a crowbar, knocking him down, sending Booth’s gun and flashlight clattering away. He swings at Booth a second time, his crowbar connecting with the cement floor as Booth rolls out of the way. Lappin aims once more, slamming his crowbar down, but Booth has rolled again, trying to get away from him. This time, Booth is out of room to roll. As Lappin raises the crowbar one final time, ready to strike Booth, a gunshot sounds. Groaning, Lappin twists partway, stunned as he sees his shooter – Brennan. She holds her gun and flashlight on him, her eyes wide and round, as blood oozes from Lappin’s mouth. Gurgling, he drops the crowbar, which hits the cement with a loud clank that echoes throughout the building. Lappin collapses to the ground near Booth.)


(Booth gasps, breathing hard as he tries to sit up. He looks over to Brennan, who is still advancing toward Booth and Lappin, gun and flashlight held out as if her arms were locked in that position.)


BOOTH: Is he dead?


(Brennan is wide-eyed as Booth sits up just far enough to feel the side of Lappin’s neck)


BOOTH: Yeah, he’s dead. (he falls back over, groaning)


(Only then does Brennan let go, dropping her arms to her sides, visibly relieved. Her mouth is still open, shocked at what she has just done. Lappin’s eyes are still open but he does not move. He is truly dead and she has killed him.)


BOOTH: (pulls himself to a sitting position, holding his injured arm delicately) God.


BRENNAN: (dazed) I had to shoot him.


BOOTH: (breathing heavily) Yeah. (his eyes meet hers) I’m glad you did.


(Brennan still looks distraught, as the scene dissolves into hazy light.)



(The image comes back into focus at the prison, where Epps sits in the visiting room.)


EPPS: Well done. (Booth and Brennan stand before him – Booth’s hand is in a soft cast, bandaged halfway up his arm) Really.


BOOTH: Game’s over, Howie.


EPPS: (looking mildly pleased with himself) Yes. I won.


BRENNAN: Only if you wanted your accomplice dead. (she sits down warily)


EPPS: Lappin’s dead?


BOOTH: (remains standing) Shot resisting arrest.


EPPS: (has an intense look on his face) Who shot him?


BRENNAN: Hmm. (she does not immediately look Epps in the eye)


EPPS: It was you, wasn’t it? (Brennan lifts her chin in slight defiance but says nothing) You shot him? (Epps stares at her, his eyes staying on her face almost the entire time he talks) Did he take long to die? (she says nothing, clenching her jaw) Did he suffer? (Booth’s eyes narrow) This is better than I hoped. (looks to Booth) I thought it would be you. (turns back to Brennan) How did it feel? Dirty, yes? But there’s also a rush. (close-up on Brennan who remains quiet) Pleasure. (he leans forward a little) Part of you liked it.


(Booth glances at Brennan out of the corners of his eyes, checking to see if she’s okay)


BRENNAN: This whole game was to have us kill someone?


(Booth returns his focus to Epps, squinting at him, studying, silent)


EPPS: Who’s gonna tell Lappin’s mom? She loves him very much, you know. (he stares at Brennan, face devoid of any human emotion, except maybe morbid curiosity) Without her son, she’ll be completely alone in this sad world.


(Brennan looks like she understands what that feels like)


BOOTH: We’re done with you. You’re never gonna see us again. (looks to Brennan) Come on.


(Brennan gives Epps one last hard look before she rises from her chair)


EPPS: (eyes never leaving Brennan’s) I’m pretty sure you’re wrong about that, Agent Booth.


(Booth stares Epps down as Brennan passes to exit the room. He then follows her out the door. Epps smiles.)



(Fade to: Lounge area in the Jeffersonian, upper level of the Medico Legal Lab. Brennan sits alone on a couch, hunched over, glass in hand. Booth stands at the top of the stairs, jacket in hand.)


BOOTH: Vodka?


BRENNAN: (laughs) It’s water. But it’s – (she shakes the glass, ice rattling around inside) – on the rocks.


BOOTH: You know, Bones, I’m not sure you grasp the basic theory on how to get drunk. Hey … (he groans as he lays his coat over his injured arm, reaching for a chair with the other hand, pulling it over) … what you need to do is order a shot of hard liquor … (he sets the chair down) … from a bartender named Shaky. (he grins as he sits and settles himself in the chair) And tell him to, uh, leave the bottle on the bar. (he gives her a knowing look)


BRENNAN: I’m fine, Booth. (he nods slightly, indulging her) I’m sitting here thinking about it, and … I’m fine. (Booth raises his eyebrows at her – she clears her throat)


BOOTH: Okay. (smirks) So what I’m gettin’ from you here, Bones, is that you’re fine.


(He knows better and the look on his face tells her so)


BRENNAN: (looks away and picks up a photograph of Sarah Koskoff) He murdered Sarah. He was about to murder Helen. (Booth swallows but says nothing, waiting, letting her get it off her chest) You know, why should I feel upset about shooting him? You know, I mean, if I was going to be upset, which I’m not … it would be because Epps thinks he beat us, so –


BOOTH: He didn’t.


BRENNAN: I know.


BOOTH: You’re upset because you think he beat us. (Brennan looks up at him) You know what? (he nods as she looks away) He did.


BRENNAN: (looks up at him again, surprised) Beat us?


BOOTH: (still nodding) Yeah.


BRENNAN: Well, you just said that he didn’t.


BOOTH: Well, I changed my mind.


BRENNAN: What, in the last three seconds?


BOOTH: You know, you’re afraid that Epps turned you into him – into a killer. (she’s listening, concerned, scared) You have to come to grips with the fact that you killed another human being. (Booth pauses, his turn to look down for a moment) Because when you kill someone, you know, there’s a cost. (he meets her eyes again) It’s a steep cost. (he pauses, voice subdued) I know. I’ve done it.


BRENNAN: (looks weary) I did the right thing.


BOOTH: I know. (Brennan looks up at him, tears in her eyes – Booth takes care to look her in the eye so she knows he means it) I was there. (he smiles at her gently, and she smiles gratefully in return)


(She looks down at the photo of Sarah Koskoff again – a big wet tear hits the image)


BRENNAN: Oh. Look what I did. (she sniffles)


BOOTH: It doesn’t matter.


BRENNAN: (talking about more than just the teardrop on the photograph) It does. It matters.


(Booth nods at her, watching, understanding)


BOOTH: I got something for ya. (he reaches into his pocket)


BRENNAN: A bottle of hard liquor?


BOOTH: (smiles) The next best thing.


(He holds out his hand, palm up – it is a small, plastic toy piglet, which Booth holds out to Brennan. He holds it close to her face, and leans in.)


BOOTH: Hmm? (chuckles) Meet … (he leans even closer to her) … Jasper.


(Brennan looks at the pig. Her face is softer now, relaxing. Her eyes meet Booth’s and he grins at her. Brennan can’t help herself – she laughs and reaches out, taking the pig. As she looks at the toy, amused, Booth smiles at her warmly.)


BOOTH: You’re gonna be okay.


BRENNAN: (looking up at him) Yeah?


BOOTH: (unwavering) Definitely.


(Brennan looks down at the pig for a moment, thoughtful, and then back at Booth. They smile at each other, a new level of understanding, appreciation and closeness reached.)


(Fade to White, then Black)




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