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Wow.
That was, uh...
Yeah, that was...
Amazing.
And a huge mistake.
Huge.
Why do we keep doing this?
Well... you know...
We don't, I mean, what's it been?
Twice in the past ar?
Three- four, if you count
that stakeout. Yeah, well, you know what,
that wasn't sex. Maybe not for you,
but this is it.
Yeah, you're right.
But, I mean, it's not like we're doing anything wrong.
I mean, you and Drew are...
We needed to take a break
to gain perspective, but, um...
this isn't helping.
And that's why it's over.
Done.
Phone, yeah, phone.
Shh. Booth.
Yeah. Address?
You know, I, uh...
Oh, no, no, no. Me, too. Me, too.
I have to pick up Parker from school.
Oh, you know what, make sure that you bring him the comic
that I got him 'cause he loves that.
Yeah, sure.
Oh, uh...
Agent Booth's phone.
Oh, hi.
It's Dr. Brennan.
Is Agent Booth... available?
Available? Yeah, Dr. Brennan.
Yeah, Bones. What's up?
Nothing, just seeing if you got the call
and if you're swinging by to pick me up, or...
Oh, yeah, um...
you know, I'm just gonna have to meet you there, okay?
Okay, bye.
You don't, uh... think she thought...
No. No, we have
a child together, I mean, it's perfectly normal
for us to be together. Right.
It's not like, uh, this is ever going to happen again.
No, exactly.
Okay, um, are you done with the bathroom?
Yeah. 'Kay, thanks.
Sorry if I interrupted anything.
What?
Oh. No. No, you didn't.
Good. Okay.
But if you must know,
you know, Rebecca, my ex-
she stopped by my place
to pick up a comic that I got Parker. Okay.
She just so happened to pick up the phone.
That's it, you know.
Nothing more, nothing less...
I'm sorry, did I say I must know?
BOOTH: Oh, very nice.
Age and sex,
undetermined, victim is
immersed in a pool of...
what smells like a composite
of domestic corrosives.
Smells more like, uh...
Common drain declogger,
acid wash, bleach.
Submerged two to three days.
All right, are you saying that, uh,
he's been here all weekend just dissolving?
Allowing the killer
enough time for the corrosives
to do their thing.
Excuse me, can I get in here, please?
Yeah, I'm Pete Valero,
the development contractor. Okay.
I came as soon as I...
There could be evidence in there.
I'd say most of it's right in there.
I'll need Zack to help me extract the remains
and whatever else is beneath the surface.
Wouldn't it be a lot easier if we just took the whole tub?
No, no, no. No, wait.
That tub is an Godiva 3000.
These things aren't cheap.
Oh, do you think anyone is actually gonna
want this Godiva 3000 after this?
Well, would they have to know?
Look, I'm just saying,
that with subsidized housing,
the government wants every nickel accounted for.
I'll get your receipts
if you could tell me why the boss at the job is just
showing up right now.
Iwas at the dentist.
I got a call in the middle of a root canal.
Who knew I'd be better off there?
Do you know who this is?
How would I know?
I got over 200 workers on this site alone,
not to mention all the kids and the-the vandals
coming through here on the weekend.
Oh, my God! Oh, God, Bones!
Wait out there.
It's only skin.
Okay, I'll need that window,
a forklift and a flatbed.
Why?
You called it.
We want answers.
The tub is coming with us.
Down. Lower, lower, lower.
Keep going, keep going.
And... good.
Whoa, this is going to be fun.
I should get my video camera.
I may need a Compazine.
There'll be none of that.
No fun, no video, no vomit.
Whoa, then again.
We have to hurry.
Those chemicals are eating away at our victim.
Is there any chance
that he was put in there alive?
If we find any rope or duct tape on the body,
I'd say there's a good chance.
Okay, people, let's start with the "who"
We'll worry about the "why" and the "how" later.
But if we find the why and the how first,
we'll gladly take it.
Though "who" is clearly the priority.
The "who's" not going to change,
but the clues might if we don't hurry.
What's our starting weight, Zack?
Starting weight is 542.13.
The tub itself weighs about 200 pounds,
capacity is 34 gallons.
Which at about 8.3 pounds a gallon comes to...
270-275.
And two-thirds full makes it about 180,
putting this guy somewhere in the 160-pound weight class.
The cream always rises.
Or in this case, melted body fat.
I'll measure its volume to determine body type.
I'll start separating all things chemical from organic.
And I know you requested
a strainer of some sort, Dr. Brennan,
but I thought this could be of use.
For the big pieces maybe.
After that, Old McZachy, get on the horn
with the Coroner's office and tell them
I want two field unit
water sifters sent here ASAP.
They get mad when I drop your name.
Then drop it twice.
Talk about the proof in the pudding.
Even for me this is disgusting.
Was this too much even for Booth?
He's still questioning the workers at the site.
Hopefully, there's enough skull here
for a partial reconstruction.
Hmm, I've worked with less.
Right femur is pitted
and brittle.
Marrow's practically gelatinized.
Our victim's elderly.
That's a bit of a leap.
Not really.
Zack, hold still.
It's a hip replacement.
Don't these things usually come engraved with serial numbers?
Not this one.
It looks like the chemicals burned those off, too.
Hey, so where's Mr. Tub of Lard?
I figured they'd bring him here.
Lard I've got plenty of.
The rest of him's in the ookey room where he belongs.
Oh, wow, so that nasty yellow goop is...?
Fat.
9.3 liters so far.
Oh, good, Booth.
I'm sure you'll want to see this, too.
What is it?
Guess.
Maybe not, Zack.
It's our victim's wallet. Can you believe it?
Leather, cash, cards,
every shred of identification completely emulsified.
Mm, wow. You know what, Zack?
I'd like to go back to the old arrangement
where you don't talk to me directly.
Okay?
Have my water sifters arrived yet?
Yes, that's how I found the wallet.
Okay, so the point of this is...?
Doing what that wallet can't.
Right now, I'd say our victim's an ectomorph.
Thin, linear, narrow features,
and I hear you're back with your ex.
I'm sorry?
Rebecca, right?
Reliving old times?
I'll just keep sifting.
Yeah.
Dr. Brennan told you.
Oh, relax. She did, didn't she?
We all have our weak moments.
No, uh-uh, we don't, okay?
I don't.
Please, Seeley, like we haven't shared enough of them
for me to know better.
I was not gossiping.
Oh, really?
So then what would you call it?
Merely sharing a point of interest.
Great. So now what am I, huh,
the world's largest ball of string?
Not you, your behavior.
It was a textbook example of just how helpless
we higher primates can be to our biological urges.
I'm not helpless.
He's not elderly.
I can control my, uh... Who?
Our victim.
You see these marrow cells?
The lack of collagen indicates
osteogenesis imperfecta;
Brittle Bone disease.
And that's supposed to tell me that he's not old?
Not necessarily.
And if you're not helpless,
then why did you sleep with her?
Oh, I really don't recall saying that I did.
Well, you didn't have to... I could hear it in your voice.
I may as well have walked in on you having sex.
You didn't, and we weren't.
It's nothing to be ashamed of, Booth.
Humans act upon a hierarchy of needs
and sex is very highly ranked.
It's an anthropological inevitability.
Thank you, Bones.
I really appreciate you boiling me down
to your anthropological inevitabilities.
Sure.
Any time.
You know, if our victim had Brittle Bone,
there could be a Web site of some kind.
He might have been listed.
Afraid not, honey.
There's no official database,
but I did track down eight cases of Brittle Bone
in the area.
How may of them are adult males?
Give me a second.
What's wrong?
With what?
This is usually where I type and you talk.
You two are never not talking.
Well, we're not not talking.
Or maybe we're not not not.
Okeydoke.
Number of adult males with Brittle Bone
in the metropolitan area is...
zero.
Same with adult females.
These are all kids.
Why is that, high mortality rate?
No, when O.I. is fatal, it's mainly to infants,
and only in severe cases.
So our guy has a mild case.
Type One; near normal stature,
fragile bones and joints, off-white sclera.
Is this disease hereditary?
Mild cases can be.
The more severe forms, Types Two and Three
are often the result of a genetic mutation.
But if our guy is Type One
and these kids got it passed on from a parent...
All we have to do is contact these kids' families
and find out which one is missing a dad.
Let me print you the list.
Print two. We'll split up.
Mrs. Seaver? Yes.
I'm Dr. Brennan with the Jeffersonian Institute,
working in collaboration with the FBI.
The FBI?
Is this to do with Larry?
That would be your husband Lawrence Seaver?
Raymond's father?
He hasn't answered his cell phone in days.
I've left so many messages.
Please, come in.
The Northern caribou migrate... Ray, honey,
we have company.
Who's she?
Did they find Daddy?
My name is Temperance, Ray,
and I'm just here to ask a few questions.
Your husband's been missing since...?
Thursday.
Well, we didn't think of him as missing.
He just left on his business trip like he does every week.
But he never fails to at least call us back.
That must have hurt.
Not so much.
I'm used to it.
Ray has Brittle Bone.
It's just a mild form, though,
like Larry's.
You think I could sign your cast?
Sure. I'll get a pen.
Mrs. Seaver, I need to borrow this photo.
Okay.
Why?
Well... we found a body.
Oh, God.
Sorry I couldn't do more.
The skullcap was falling apart faster than I could put a face on it.
I'm not sure we'd have a match either way
with so little to work with.
Okay, here we go. Got our guy.
What?
Mother and her daughter up in Maryland,
Dad missing since Thursday.
Who's that?
Mother and son down in Virginia.
Father missing since Thursday.
Mine's a Lawrence Turner, 35, commercial electrician.
Oh...
And I've got Lawrence Seaver, 35...
...my...
...commercial electrician.
...God.
I think good old Larry's got two wives.
More like two lives.
And just sure Jenny takes her meds.
And tell her Mommy will see her in the morning.
Thanks, Betty.
How old's your daughter?
Six and a half.
She and Larry--
they have a special bond.
Brittle Bone?
You know about that?
She's Type One like your husband?
He's always felt so guilty about that.
He really dotes on her, on both of us.
Mrs. Turner, you husband ever talk about
any conflicts at work?
Never.
Everyone loves Larry.
He's fun, smart,
hard working.
That's what keeps him out of town so much.
Yeah, about that...
I didn't realize electricians were called upon
to be away from home
so much.
There's just so much underbidding.
And it's not like we can get by on what I make.
As...?
I teach. Eighth grade science.
Got it.
So he has to travel.
Go where the money is.
Not that he ever complains...
He says it makes
coming home to us all the more
sweeter he says.
Oh, God. What are we going to do?
Excuse me for one moment.
I'm so sorry.
These women have to know the truth about their husband.
- They could be in cahoots. - Cahoots?
If they somehow found out that Larry was two-timing,
they could both want him dead.
Okayso what now?
We ask them...? No, no, no.
It's all taken care of.
Mrs. Turner, could you please come with me?
Right this way.
Just wait here in the visitor's lounge.
We won't be long.
Help yourself to a cup of coffee.
Thank you.
Yeah.
That's the interrogation room.
Not tonight.
Hmm... nice touch with the kitty posters.
Who are you talking to?
That couple in there...
Agents Curry and Moran.
They set up the room.
I'll never drink FBI coffee again.
Whenever you're ready, Charlie.
You know, I almost married her, you know?
Agent Curry?
Rebecca... my ex.
You can talk about her now.
She got pregnant.
I wanted to do the right thing, but, you know, she said no.
You've told me this before.
Not that you've ever said why.
Well, issues with my job,
she wanted to start her own career,
she wanted to finish graduate school.
Alone with a baby?
Logic, right?
You're applying logic?
Do you still love her?
Not... like I did.
Not like that.
Then why can't it just be sex?
There's nothing "just" about sex, Bones.
But all mammals need it.
That release of serotonin,
the rush of endorphins.
Naturally, you seek it with someone
with whom you share a sexual rapport.
Rapport... right, that's the word.
I know when I'm in need of a release,
there's a former partner or two I'm sure I could call.
Okay, Bones, thanks so much.
I feel so much better now.
Here we go.
Help yourself to coffee, Mrs. Seaver.
Oh, okay.
Very smart.
It's my jobs, Bones.
It's, you know, what I do for a living.
They don't seem like...
Wait.
They may as well be in separate rooms.
Making them either great actresses
or in cahoots.
Or...
they have no idea what's going on.
How could these women not know?
Brennan was pretty sure that they didn't.
And still don't apparently.
Booth wants to wait to tell them.
Wait for what?
To summon the nerve?
Maybe.
I just wouldn't want these women finding out at the funeral.
I'll take a front row seat for that.
Sorry.
Did I say that out loud?
Have you found anything
resembling a weapon in the tub yet?
Not yet. Why?
These skull fragments
may feel like wet cardboard,
but I'm pretty sure we're looking at blunt-force trauma.
I'll second that. Roughly V-shaped.
Corner of a 2x4, maybe?
Specks of blood at the point of impact.
Could have been the lethal blow.
Making him dead before he was doused with lye.
Oh, happy day.
I've isolated our corrosive culprits: sodium hypochlorite,
calcium hypochlorite and hydrochloric acid.
Each available at your local market.
Lucky the whole tub didn't explode.
It practically did.
Along with teeth, I keep finding
tiny shards of copper
from the fixtures.
Is that what this is?
No, that would be a wedding band.
Braided gold and platinum.
Preserved by true love, no doubt.
One metal for each desperate housewife.
People, can we at least fake some sense of decorum?
I can't help it.
It's so Jerry Springer.
First of all, how does anyone juggle two spouses?
I can think of ways.
Of course, by juggle, I mean quite literally...
I have a scalpel.
Maybe he dissolved himself
so there'd be more of him to go around.
I'm going to Hell, aren't I?
I'll save you a seat.
Oh, no, not sweet Mr. Seaver.
It can't be him.
Yeah, well, um...
Is that your boss in there?
I mean, who would do something like that?
Everybody loves the man.
Well, you know, not everyone.
Hey, what's going on?
Mr. Valero, you won't believe it.
Agent Booth.
- We met yesterday. - It was Mr. Seaver.
That's who was in the bathtub.
Wait. Larry? The electrician?
Yeah, Larry the electrician.
Son of a bitch.
Now I'm never going to see my money.
You know, I must say, Pete, you're the first
person I've come across who's ever had a bad word
to say about Larry.
Yeah, well, the guy does have a way
with people... or he did.
I mean, I liked him, too, before he got all slippery.
Slippery?
I fronted the guy 85 grand to cover electrical supplies.
Last week, I got the inspector walking around,
and she cites me for cheap materials.
Substandard circuit breakers,
insufficient GFIs...
Where'd the 85 grand go?
That's exactly what I asked Larry.
"Show me receipts," I said.
What do I get?
Sob stories--
bad bookkeeping, his son's health, problems with the wife.
His wife?
Like I don't got a wife
of my own, right?
You know, you realize,
Pete, that everything that you're telling me
sounds a lot like motive.
Great.
Do I need a lawyer?
I don't know, you tell me.
All right, look, I can't say that I wasn't angry enough
to want the guy dead, but like always
I fell back on the old builder's code.
- Can't squeeze money from a dead man? - You know it.
Well, you know, as codes go, it's hardly limited to builders.
No, no, no, it's our code.
You can look it up.
No, maybe later.
Hey, you wouldn't happen to have
any of Larry's old paperwork on file--
accounts, receipts...
Yeah, yeah, sure.
I think I've stumbled upon an anomaly, Dr. Saroyan.
Looks like a splintered ulna bone.
But it's not. It's ivory.
From the tusk of a small elephant?
I was hoping you'd know.
If you notice
these indentations here.
Like teeth marks on a pencil.
See what Angela can make of it.
And, Zack, after that, I'll need you
to go back to the crime scene with the photos I'm taking.
See what you can find with the approximate shape
and dimension of this blunt-force wound.
Like a murder weapon?
It needn't look like one.
Anything that replicates this pattern.
I'm going on police business.
I'm so proud.
Does he mean, out? In the world?
We'll pin our phone number on his shirt.
What's that you've got there?
Well, having finally hit the very bottom of the tub,
I found it plugged with a ceramic stopper
which I lifted, and voila.
What do you make of this?
Bones, are you ready for this?
Did you tell the wives yet?
No, not yet, but I did some checking
into two-time Larry's nances.
Under the last name Seaver,
he's got a half million dollar life insurance policy.
Assigning motive to Gayle Seaver.
However, under the last name Turner,
he's got a living will leaving everything to Lila and their daughter.
Giving both women motive.
Right. Which is just a matter of which one needed the money more
than she needed Larry.
I might be able to help.
With what?
A very small used condom?
It's the finger from a rubber glove.
Hodgins just found it wedged under the tub's drain stopper.
It was spared the corrosive effects of the lye.
Meaning we may be able to pull a fingerprint
from the inside.
No maybes about it.
If there's a print, I'll pull it.
And when I pull it...
We have a killer...
It's just standard procedure, Lila.
Just press four fingers firmly and hold.
Our investigation turned up a print at the crime scene,
and we just need yours, Gayle,
to avoid any possible confusion.
This isn't gonna take long, is it?
Our tech has the print you pulled.
Ring finger, left hand.
No, shouldn't take long at all.
Just wait here.
Are you sure this is the best time to tell them?
After two days of nagging me,
just now you're getting cold feet?
What? I do not nag.
Well, you know, it's an anthropological
inevitability for women to gossip and nag.
Can I get anyone a soda?
No, thank you.
Are you on my husband's case, too?
No, I don't work here.
You're the, um,
the lady from the waiting room.
You gave me a tissue.
Oh, yeah.
That was you? Yeah.
Sorry, I'm a little out of it.
Yeah, I know how that feels.
Actually, ladies, let me make some introductions.
Gayle Seaver. Lila Turner.
Lila, Gayle. Hi.
Lila, that was very sweet of you.
- I'd just lost my husband. - You did?
So did I.
Actually, that's...
why you're both here really,
um, for the same reason...
for the same husband.
I'm sorry? Yeah.
Me, too. What Agent Booth's
trying to say is that your husbands, Larry...
are the same Larry.
This will help.
A little show and tell.
Well, this is wrong.
It's a joke.
A sick joke.
Actually, it's not... It's a sick joke.
My Larry would never...
Your Larry? Yes, my Larry.
He's my husband. What are you talking about?
I've been married to him for 11 years.
Okay, let's sit.
Everyone, just sit down.
This is ridiculous.
Fine.
I can't believe it.
Booth. Yeah.
I'm sorry. I can't imagine...
Who's kid is this?
Who's little girl is that?
Are you sure?
Thanks.
the print we found on the rubber glove
at the crime scene, it doesn't match either wife.
So it's back to square one.
You sure I can't get anyone a soda?
Hey, Dr. Brennan, right?
Rebecca, hi.
Is he in there?
He is, but it's not a good time.
Not that my powers of discernment
have ever been particularly sharp, vis-a-vis
good times from bad, but in this instance,
it's bad.
And I thought Seeley was exaggerating about you.
With regard to...?
Just tell him to give me a call.
Hey.
Can I ask you something?
Why did you say no?
Excuse me?
When he asked you to marry him.
I mean, he seems an ideal candidate--
strong, alpha male, good protective instincts.
And I should discuss this with you, why?
It's just... I'm not sure he knows.
And... I think it bothers him.
I've always taken care of myself.
To a fault sometimes.
And when we got pregnant, Seeley proposed.
But I didn't want to be one of those women
who gets married out of need.
So I said no.
I can see that.
By the time that I realized I'd made a mistake,
that I'd still be the same person...
I think there's a moment for two people,
a single moment where they can either catch fire
or...
Seeley and I?
We missed our moment.
Do you understand?
I'm trying, but...
the single moment thesis doesn't explain...
Why we still get together.
Fall together really.
Because I think that we just feel what used to be there.
And we miss it.
I think Booth inks you didn't marry him
because he wouldn't make a good father.
What?
He worries about it himself--
what he does for a living, his past as a sniper.
Oh, God.
Uh, do me a favor.
Don't tell him that I came by, okay?
Please?
Man, what I would've given to have been a fly on the wall
when you told those wives.
You would've been swatted, trust me.
No match on the prints
from our nationwide database either.
Well, at least we can assume our killer
was a first-time offender.
Great. Thanks, Bones.
That narrows it down.
So I hear you're back with your ex.
Don't look at me.
Your son must be thrilled.
I mean, I know I may thumb my nose
at the hypocrisy of marriage
as a sacred institution,
but I think a boy truly benefits...
I am not back with my ex.
Let me finish. A boy truly benefits
from knowing where his parents stan... together or not.
Like, I once had this dancer down in Miami
and her stage name was Abbey Road.
Anyway, she had a kid, too, right?
That'll do, Ringo.
I think I scored, Dr. Brennan.
Somebody just kill me right now.
Dr. Saroyan sent me back to the crime scene.
That's a junction box with a single brown hair embedded.
This at floor level?
Across from where the bathtub had been.
You'll find its contours match our trauma wound.
Then let's see if this hair's a match for Larry.
Before you go...
are we sure these copper bits are from the tub?
I assumed they'd come off the fixtures.
Yeah, but the drain, the faucet and the spigots,
they're all pristine outside a scratch or two.
Let me see that.
That's birdshot. Or it was.
Compressed copper that's frangible, so it breaks apart
on impact. Could they kill a man?
Well, I think our vice president
disproved that possibility.
Look, any ammo at close range
will do the job. At the very least,
a gunshot would've sent Larry flying causing his head
to hit this junction box.
Which given his condition...
Would be fatal.
Okay.
What you thought were teeth marks, Dr. Saroyan,
turned out to be Chinese characters
engraved along the side.
What do they say?
They say "What make foolish man think I speak Chinese?"
I thought you were half Chinese.
And I think you're half Swedish.
Let's hear some Swedish.
What is it, Angela, please?
It's a chopstick.
Only it's not the kind you eat with.
There's another kind?
Well, you wouldn't comb your hair with a fork,
would you? My hair?
All right, look, the one character
that I was able to translate off the Internet
is the word "beauty"
And I realized it's meant for hair.
Where you twist it in a bun and stick this through
to hold it in place.
But if that's what this is,
we can be pretty sure it wasn't Larry's.
Thanks.
Roommate says she went to go meet some friends
at the Beltway Burger.
And you think it's this Chloe girl because...?
The chopsticks.
As soon as Cam said it, I knew it.
'Cause when I went to go see Pete,
she had chopsticks in the back of her hair.
And how did Hodgins find out?
I'm sorry?
Yeah, "I hear you're back with your ex"
I don't know.
I assume it was Cam.
I was only trying to engage her in social intercourse.
Excuse me?
Just trying to be normal.
Congenial exchange with a coworker.
If that's what gossip is, I don't like it at all.
Yeah, you think you don't like it, I can't st...
There it is.
Beltway Burger.
Hey, Chloe.
Meeting some friends? Oh, hi.
You're that FBI guy.
Yes, I'm the FBI guy.
So you worship at the temple of Beltway Burger, too, huh?
Yeah, on occasion.
I may be 90% vegetarian, but the burgers?
Can't get enough of them lately.
How many weeks are you?
Excuse me?
Pregnant.
I could tell by your gait.
Your ilia, they've already started shifting
to widen the birth canal.
You can tell that?
So you are pregnant?
14 weeks.
Booth...
Chloe's friends.
Taking the kids out
for a little late night snack, ladies.
Don't tell me...
Larry is father...
???
designed for kids with special needs--
rubber surfacing, high-backed swings...
I took Ray there last week, and Lila was there with Jenny.
The kids started playing, we started talking,
and one topic led to another.
Small world.
Yeah. Too small.
What about Chloe?
Well, after we got over the initial shock--
like yesterday, but real--
we decided to followed Larry
to work the next morning.
Straight to a motel, where Chloe was waiting.
And, if that wasn't enough
to make our heads explode,
we then had to find out about Chloe's... condition.
At which point you knew it was time to confront Larry.
I had no idea that Larry was married.
Let alone twice.
But, since your prints match the one
left in the rubber glove,
we assume it wasn't long before you found out.
We checked your phone records, Gayle, and, uh...
you didn't leave Larry any messages
after Friday night.
The night you, Lila
and Chloe told him you were going to see him...
together... to get answers.
So you found Larry at his job, you shot him point blank,
and you dragged his sorry ass back to the bathtub.
Where you doused him
in sodium hypochlorite, calcium hypochlorite...
Or, as you and I like to call them:
bleach and Quick-E-Plumber.
Which, as an eighth grade teacher,
you knew would do the trick.
Simple Earth Science.
Look, all that's true, but we didn't kill him.
Really? Then who did?
He killed himself.
Larry was dead when you got there?
On the bathroom floor.
The gun was still in his mouth.
The coward must freaked
at the thought of facing us together.
If we had surprised him, maybe he would still be alive.
Back up. Are you saying that the gun was still in his mouth?
His finger was on the trigger. It was awful.
And where is the gun now?
I buried it in my backyard.
That's a good place for it.
Unbelievable.
Yeah. You got that right.
You know what? They're lying.
How do you know?
Come on. They've been lying since day one.
Between all of them, they should have a dozen Oscars by now.
I know what those are.
Come on. Suicide? Uh-uh.
Birdshot or not, okay, every self-inflicted I've seen,
the guy shoots himself and he drops the gun. Right?
It's an automatic reaction. Bang, drop.
There's no way the gun ends up in his mouth.
Then we'd better go dig up that gun.
Seeley?
I'll get the ball rolling.
Was that Dr. Brennan?
Uh-huh. Why are you here?
I need to know if you're going
to coach Parker's T-ball team this year.
You know I always coach Parker's T-ball team.
I didn't want to assume...
What is going on here, Rebecca, okay? Because, listen.
I thought we agreed here, we cannot end up
groping each other in the FBI closet.
We can't do that.
We're done. I know.
Really?
Seeley, all the excuses I gave you
for not wanting to get married...
- my independence, your work... - I know.
No, you don't.
You are a wonderful father.
And Parker is a lucky kid.
Such a lucky kid.
And, obviously,
we still have feelings for each other.
Do you still want to marry me?
Rebecca...
No. I don't.
I don't want to marry you either.
Here are the forms for T-ball.
I'll miss you.
Yeah. Yeah, I'm going to miss you, too.
You know what I'm going to miss most?
Yeah, but let's not go there.
Okay. DNA on the barrel confirms
it was in Larry's mouth at some point.
Yeah, well, I still don't buy it, you know?
The kickback alone would have forced it out.
Unless he was dead before the shot.
Well, yeah, that's true, but, uh... Wait. What?
The inside of Larry's skull
is pitted, which I had always attributed
to the effects of the lye.
But each tiny hole matches perfectly with the birdshot,
right down to these specks of copper.
You're saying it was suicide?
I would, except these holes are void of blood,
which would suggest they were inflicted
after blood stopped pumping
through Larry's head.
No. Keep talking. I'll... I'll catch up.
Unlike this blunt force trauma, no shortage of blood here,
proving he was dead
before he was shot.
So now we're talking about a faked homicide
to cover up a faked suicide?
A faked suicide meant to cover up an actual,
original murder.
Oh, just when you think things couldn't get any more twisted...
How's this for a curveball?
...in walks Cam.
After retrieving and reassembling every tooth from that tub,
I now discover I have one extra.
This is not a tooth. It's a crown.
Exactly. Any of your women
- happen to be missing one? - Not that I could see.
Well, it wouldn't be theirs anyway.
It's sized for a man.
I knew that.
A man's tooth, and it's not Larry's?
It's not a tooth.
It's a crown, whereby a dentist files down an existing tooth...
I know what a crown is, Bones.
Except Pete called it a root canal.
Pete.
Well, look who's here.
Returning to the scene of the crime.
Funny. You know, I was going to say that to you.
Okay, boys, that's lunch. Let's go.
Why? No, no. I'm... I'm talking about that.
Look at my wall there. Who's going to pay for that?
Let's find out. Smile for me, Pete.
Whoa! Back off! What's this about?
Temporary crown, maxillary central incisor.
Turn around, Pete.
Like I have the slightest idea how Larry got in that tub?
Actually, on that detail, we're quite sure you don't.
Making that look on your face
when you saw it all the more priceless.
It's because I didn't know what I was...
Well, let me tell you what I know, Pete, okay?
I know Larry owed you 85 grand.
So, Friday night, you come here to have a little talk
to him about it and, about the same time,
he gets a phone call from his very unhappy wives.
Wives? Yeah. Which puts Larry
in a really bad place.
So, when you ask him,
"Hey, you know, where's my money?",
he pretty much blows you off.
Like he has more important things to worry about.
Bad enough that Larry rips you off,
but he disrespects you on top of it?
That's not going to happen in this lifetime.
So it got physical.
Larry knocked your crown loose,
and you shoved him down here,
where he hit his head on the socket casing.
I... I... I swear, he didn't land hard.
With his O.I. condition, didn't matter.
Wouldn't take much.
It was an accident. I'm sorry.
So sorry you had to cover it up?
Stick a cheap shotgun in his mouth, pull the trigger.
Make manslaughter look like suicide.
The guy had ripped
me off for enough. I couldn't let him ruin me, too.
And you can live with that?
A person can live with anything
if they don't think too hard.
Let's try this again, Pete. Turn around.
How did he get in the tub?
It's been driving me nuts.
Know what? Try not to think about it.
The irony that I cannot think of a single woman
who would want three husbands.
Good thing. A guy would never
be stupid enough to let it happen.
Excuse me.
These women were not stupid.
And that is completely gross.
But comfy.
Welcome back, by the way.
What? After two days
of inappropriate comments, you're back to judging me
for gross behavior.
When am I ever appropriate?
Good point. Maybe it was just the judging me I missed.
Ah! The woman I know and love.
In a purely nonromantic, happy-to-be-judged way.
Well...
Anyway... These women.
Right. Not stupid.
And, frankly,
that they allowed themselves to be duped
is a sad statement on how lean the market is out there.
I resent that. I'm out there.
You certainly are.
How "not stupid" could these women have been
to think that they could get away with faking a murder?
Or how compassionate were they to recognize
that they were all in the same boat,
so why let Larry take his insurance money with him?
Yeah. A lot of good it will do them in jail.
So you never said how it ended up with Rebecca.
Well, yeah, it ended.
Only time we'll ever spend together is with Parker.
You sure that's what you want?
You know what, Bones? It might be all anthropology to you,
but there are certain people that you can't just sleep with.
I mean, you can pretend that it's just sex.
You can lie to yourself,
and you can say that it's all good,
but there are just too many strings,
and too much at stake,
you know?
Too much to lose.
Yeah. I can see that.
It's over, you know?
I'd appreciate, you know, you supporting that.
I will. And, if you should slip,
I will keep my mouth shut about it.
Thank you.
But, I mean, it's not like I'm going...
No, I mean with anybody.
I'm sure Rebecca's not your only option
for satisfying biological urges.
Please tell me
these women are not going to jail.
After trying to bilk the insurance system,
I imagine they'll get nothing less than a firing squad.
Not if they never filed a claim.
Because our friends here caught them.
You're both kind of right.
Given their kids, and the circumstances,
the DA is going to offer probation
provided that all three women
show remorse and attend mandatory counseling.
In exchange for movie rights, I hope.
You know they're going to get calls.
I hope so.
Hey, nice going, by the way.
Cam tells me you're back with your ex.
Cam? Mmm.
Cam in her office?
I said something wrong.
Would it be gossip if I told you?
I hope so.
That was, uh...
That was...
Wicked. Yeah.
And a huge mistake.
Not if we don't do it again.
Deal.
After tonight, I mean.
Never again.
No.