11x09 - The Cowboy in the Contest

[bunniefuu]

(cups clanking)

Oh.

You made coffee.

Mm-hmm.

And you are in my robe.

I stopped walking around naked about 20 years ago.

And started cross-dressing?

(chuckles)

(phone ringing)

Mm-mm.

Mm.

Work?

Yeah. A body was found on parklands in western Virginia.

It's being brought back to the lab.

(sighs)

Can I see you later?

Don't be so worried.

I simply like you.

(whispers): And I really like this robe.

(both laugh)

Brennan: How do you feel about cauliflower?

Booth: Roasted? Yeah, that's good. Boiled? Ugh.

That's disgusting.

So, what are you doing over there?

Oh, meal planning.

I figured, as long as you're driving me to work, we might as well use the time productively.

Or we could listen to sports talk.

On to scheduling.

Hank has a doctor's appointment on the 12th.

Will he get sh*ts?

Vaccines, yes, which means he might be cranky.

One of us should plan to go in late that day.

Then there's Christine's field trip.

Permission slip's in the glove compartment. I can turn it in.

Brennan: Okay.

Booth, are you looking at motorcycles?

Yeah, just a few, you know, for fun.

You are not buying a motorcycle.

You can't just decide that.

I accept the inherent risks of our jobs.

Why take on additional ones?

I'd wear a helmet.

Broken clavicle, shattered pelvis, compound fractures of the femur...

Okay, I get it.

Well, I'll say one thing about the victim-- at least he d*ed with his boots on.

He was bound.

Unclear whether it was before or after he was k*lled.

Nuchal crest and supraorbital margin confirm male.

Significant texturing on the sternal rib ends suggests he was in his mid-30s.

And... quite a smoker.

Take a look at the discoloration on the remaining lung tissue.

Hodgins: Staphylinidae maturity puts time of death at approximately 26 days ago.

Wow, he was out there for weeks.

And cause of death is pretty clear: multiple g*nsh*t wounds to the torso, one most likely hitting the inferior vena cava, and another, possibly the liver.

He bled out.

Dr. Hodgins, will you take a look at the residue around these g*nsh*t wounds?

Oh, wow, that looks like black gunpowder. Yeah.

I mean, I'll run it through the mass spec to be sure, but it's rarely used now.

It was more common in the early 1900s.

Daisy: There's an antemortem fracture on the left mandible.

Remodeling puts it at about five years ago.

Also, Cam, I found these hairs on the victim's clothing.

Based on the width of the medulla, uh, it's horsehair.

(chuckles): Plus, I found leather particulates on the victim's forehead.

Let me guess-- cowboy hat?

You said it, not me.

Angela says her facial reconstruction should be finished shortly.

And I've almost completed the initial evaluation, so I can write up my notes for you before I leave.

Leave? Why are you leaving?

Saroyan: Well, Dr. Hodgins has been requesting a microplate fluorometer, and in order to make it work, I had to make a few cutbacks, including... intern hours.

It'll only be for two weeks, and I will be eternally grateful.

(sighs): Well... I do understand the importance of functional equipment.

The victim has pronounced muscle attachments in the proximal and distal phalanges on the right index finger.

Wait a minute, wait a minute.

His trigger finger?

His right hand does show dominance, so yes.

Also, there are signs of osteoarthritis in the right shoulder.

Those markers combined could suggest heavy firearms use.

Saroyan: Plus, the jaw injury Ms. Wick found earlier could have been the result of kickback from a shotgun.

Okay, is there anything about this guy that doesn't scream cowboy?

Montenegro: Yeah. How about the fact that he was an accountant?

Uh, Stanley Belridge, 34.

He's not exactly a cowboy.

Saroyan: No.

So why does it look like he was k*lled at the O.K. Corral?

♪ Bones 11x09 ♪
The Cowboy in the Contest
Original Air Date on December 10, 2015

♪ Main Title Theme ♪
The Crystal Method

♪ ♪

(sighs): Stanley Harris Belridge.

Lived in Baltimore, Maryland.

No family in the vicinity.

Not many friends.

Reported missing by his supervisor at work.

I'm sorry, two weeks ago?

Wait, the guy's been dead for almost a month-- what's the Baltimore PD saying?

That, uh, missing adults aren't exactly a priority on their to-do list.

And there's a body, and it wasn't found in their jurisdiction...

They have generously turned it over to us.

Fine. I'll take a look at it.

Thanks, Aubrey.

I'll go talk to the supervisor.

Yeah.

Dr. Brennan is...

(chuckles): letting you get a motorcycle?

Do me a favor. Just turn around, walk out of the office, all right?

Okay. Walking.

Just get out of the office.

Just go to your office.

Wow. Stanley's dead?

Really?

Really. Why'd it take you so long to report him missing?

Well, I-I barely knew the guy.

I figured someone else would.

But no one ever called the office, so...

Did he have any conflicts with coworkers, clients?

Well, it's an accounting firm.

Not an especially dangerous place to work.

Well, I'm gonna send a team of techs over to gather up his files, computer.

Oh, hang on. Uh... we deal with personal financial data-- it's all very sensitive.

So you'll need a warrant.

So I'll get one.

Soil samples from the victim's boot treads do not match soil samples from the scene.

So we have a body dump.

Yep.

What's all this?

Oh, this is where the victim was before he d*ed-- the Frontier Games.

It's a weekend-long, role-playing, Old-West-style sh**ting competition.

Fun! Sign me up.

It's held once a month on a private campground owned by Francine and Luke Nichols.

Hey, check it out.

There's our victim.

(beeping)

Slow Burn Stanley?

Okay, now, that is awesome.

Saroyan: Well, that explains the horsehair.

What about those g*ns?

Are they vintage?

Yes, all of them are.

It's part of the rules of the competition.

Look at the final score.

Stanley won.

Montenegro: It's a $10,000 prize.

Saroyan: So our motive could be robbery.

Wait a second.

But if the victim d*ed 26 days ago and this event takes place once a month, then that should mean...

The next Frontier Games will be taking place this weekend.

Why do I have a feeling Booth already knows this?

Aubrey: Undercover?

Seriously?

Well, the likely suspects are the participants. Look.

Brennan: 85% of the competitors are repeat guests... from all over the Eastern Seaboard.

Which is exactly why we have to go undercover.

Because if we don't, we're gonna have to coordinate branches in seven different states, we're never gonna find the suspects...

Oh. You just want to dress up and play cowboy for the weekend.

Yeah, well, if I can do that and solve a crime, why, who wouldn't want to do that?

Do you have a problem with that?

Definitely not.

In fact, I think that I should probably go with you.

I haven't been on a horse in a while, but I would love to hit the trails. (imitates whip cracking)

It's not a dude ranch, Aubrey, it's a sh**ting competition.

I can also play every great cowboy song there is on my guitar, and that could be helpful.

How could that possibly be helpful?

You know what?

Best you just stay here, okay?

I'm afraid I can't leave the lab.

I don't have an intern this weekend, and there's still a great deal of work to be done with the remains.

Fine, then I'll do it alone, Wanda.

Oh. Is that something you guys do, split up like that?

Well... it's hardly splitting up.

Nah.

And if Agent Booth feels that is the best way to solve the case, then... he should do it.

Giddyap!

I found damage to the neural arches on at least two of the victim's cervical vertebrae...

I thought you were Dr. Saroyan.

So, what is this I'm hearing about Booth going undercover without you?

I'll admit, I find it a bit strange.

But then again, I find a lot of Booth's behavior strange these days.

Meaning what?

Well, first he wanted a Jet Ski.

Now he's looking at motorcycles.

He's only recently recovered from being sh*t, and he wants to... put his life in danger for...

I don't know what.

Yeah, I think I do.

Excitement.

Basically, what you're saying is... our life together has become routine, and... Booth needs to have some fun.

I'm saying that both of you need to have some fun.

♪ ♪

(indistinct chatter)

♪ ♪

Howdy! (laughs)

Hey, there, Nugget.

Who's this handsome fella you got on your back?

Big River Buck.

Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma'am.

I'm Fancy Pants Franny, one of the proprietors of this here establishment.

Man: Yeah, and I am High Card Luke, her worser half.

Right.

How was your ride, Buck?

It was good.

Glad to hear it.

You done much target sh**ting, Buck?

Oh, a bit. Looks like Slow Burn Stanley there is the one to b*at.

Oh, well, you're in luck, because I don't think he's coming this month.

Why's that?

Luke: No clue, but he sure will be missed.

(g*nsh*t)

Bit jumpy there, eh, Buck?

Sure you can handle this?

Don't worry about me, Luke-- I can handle myself.

All right. (chuckles)

(indistinct chatter)

You busy?

Hey. I was just looking at some bearberry foliage.

It's all over the victim's clothing, suggesting that he fell into a patch of bushes, so...

What's up?

You're not getting that microplate fluorometer.

At least not this month.

Wh-Why not?

Cam said...

I convinced Cam to pay Daisy double-time to come in over the weekend.

Brennan had to leave.

Which leads me to the next item.

Christine and Hank will be staying with us over the weekend.

Great!

I mean, Hank sleeps through the night by now, right?

I don't... No, I don't think so.

Just consider it practice.

Practice?

For what?

Angela?

♪ ♪

(indistinct chatter)

Fellas.

Man: I got room for you!

(indistinct chatter continues)

Allow me to introduce myself, ma'am.

Marshal Glen Gold Dust.

Hello. I'm Wild Card Wanda.

Quickest draw in all of Bony Ridge.

(Booth laughs)

Something funny over there, stranger?

Nope.

And you are?

Big River Buck.

Notorious highwayman.

Highwayman, huh?

Guess that makes you and me natural enemies. (chuckles)

But seriously, it's-it's both your first times here, right?

I mean, I've been coming for years, so if ya'll need anything, just ask me.

Especially you, Wanda.

I could use a root beer.

Well, that is coming right up.

Much obliged.

What are you doing here?

Being unexpected and exciting.

And solving a m*rder, of course.

That's great and all, but you do realize that you just introduced us as strangers.

What are we gonna do now?

We'll figure it out.

There's not much that's routine about this situation, is there?

Wild Card Wanda?

Mm-hmm.

Wanda, uh, Buck, this here's Sweet Rose Sadie.

Railroad heiress.

Ma'am.

Rose: Hey, Beau, come on over here.

How you doing? You get to see your kids this month?

Yeah, I managed to put a little money together, pay everything off.

Rose: Mm, that is wonderful.

I see we have some new competition.

Mm-hmm.

I'm Kentucky Loco Beau.

Hey, you guys see Stan's not here?

Rose: Well, I'll miss him.

But I got to say...

God bless you, Stan, 'cause now maybe one of us has got a sh*t at the win.

Hear, hear.

To Slow Burn Stan.

Cheers.

(bottles clink)

I really appreciate you being so flexible, Ms. Wick.

It's no problem.

I can use the overtime for Lance's college fund.

Have you started extracting the b*ll*ts yet?

I was just about to.

There's one embedded here in the L4 vertebra.

And another one here, in the articular facet of the vertebral tenth rib.

Ms. Wick, can you take a look at the left ilium?

Is that a nick or a defect?

It's a nick, perimortem.

Damage consistent with that of another g*nsh*t.

Must have been a through and through.

The exit wound would have been extremely close to the ilium.

Have Hodgins swab it.

It may provide clues to the actual m*rder site.

Montenegro: Hey, I just got off the phone with Sebastian Kohl, who said he left some stuff on my porch because he was in the area.

Who's Sebastian?

Uh, shouldn't you be working?

He's a gorgeous, smart, very successful photographer who does not live anywhere near me.

However, Cam does.

Which means the reason that he was in my area is because he had just been in your area.

Are you seeing someone, Dr. Saroyan?

No.

I mean, yes.

But it means nothing.

Uh, it means nothing.

All right, now, this here event is called the Great Bank Robbery.

First up, Big River Buck.

One p*stol, five rounds.

sh**t ready?

Ready, ma'am.

Give the cue, the clock will start.

You're surrounded by rangers, you yellow-bellied cowards.

(buzz)

(crowd groans)

(siren wails)

(crowd murmuring)

Man: Two out of five targets, 6.25 seconds.

You sh*t the bank teller that you were trying to protect.

That penalty's gonna cost you.

(phone beeping)

Better luck on the next event.

What do you got?

That guy you wanted me to look into-- uh, Kentucky what's-his-face-- his name's Robert Macintosh, lives in Pennsylvania.

Recently paid off $6,000 in delinquent child support in cash.

There's nothing suspicious about that.

There's no cell phones in the communal areas, Buck.

It isn't in the spirit of the games.

I'm just finishing up.

Luke: Next up, Wild Card Wanda.

sh**t ready?

Waiting on your cue.

You're surrounded by rangers, you yellow-bellied coward.

(buzz)

(siren wails)

(crowd whooping, murmuring)

Man: Five out of five targets, 4.8 seconds.

Well, I'll be damned.

I think I'm falling in love.

♪ ♪

Hey. All I'm finding on the victim's computer are boring accounting docs, so think I'm gonna figure out how to rearrange those car seats.

Yeah, um, Angie, do you have something to tell me?

Oh... I'm not pregnant.

Wow, you look way too relieved.

What? No, no, it's just... Come on, we haven't really talked about this yet.

But you know I've always wanted a big family.

I think we need to think about this.

Okay. I will.

I promise.

Okay.

Let me know if you need help with the car seats.

Yeah, all four of them.

I'm sor...

Uh, uh, four?

Yeah, I told Daisy we'd take Lance for a few hours so she could go shopping.

Man: There you go.

Thank you.

(sighs) That was some nice sh**ting out there, Wanda.

You know, you made the board.

Brennan: Oh, thank you.

I noticed your limp.

Are you hurt?

Oh, that.

No, I fell off my horse about a month ago. Guess it just didn't heal right.

You should consider an anterior hip replacement.

I knew it.

You're a doctor or something, right?

Me? No, I-I'm-I'm...

Oh, you... I get it.

Here, you're Wild Card Wanda, that's it.

(quietly): Yeah, uh, so Aubrey says they got a lead on an abandoned car at a bus station right around here.

Could be our victim.

Hodgins is working on particulate evidence from the dump site.

You're not doing very well, Booth.

You didn't even make the board.

I'm not even trying.

Right.

Miss Wanda, would you care to accompany me to the barbecue?

Why, yes, that sounds lovely.

Ah.

Techs confirmed the car that was found at the bus stop did belong to the victim.

No sign of forced entry or struggle.

His bags, weapons, and all other weekend paraphernalia were still inside of his trunk.

Abandoned by the k*ller?

Looks that way.

I'll bring the forensic samples and all the other contents by the Jeffersonian once I take a look. Oh, and get this-- the, uh, prize check that he won for the $10,000, it's still inside of his bag.

Mm. There goes our robbery motive.

We've got some info about the m*rder site.

Hodgins found microscopic splinters of wood from a Douglas fir inside the victim's g*nsh*t wounds.

Douglas fir doesn't grow around those parts of Virginia.

Yeah, the splinters were coated with phenol formaldehyde resin, soda ash, organic pigment and calcium carbonate.

Hodgins said they could be painted plywood.

I'll give Booth a call, see what he thinks.

What are you eating?

Oh, ribs, brisket, corn, cornbread, slaw.

Fries.

I heard Booth and Brennan were having a barbecue, got a little bit jealous.

Uh, yeah, I can tell.

Hey, did Dr. Brennan say what kind of barbecue it was--

Kansas City style, Alabama?

Uh, she's a vegetarian, Aubrey.

I'm guessing something with a vinegar base, mustardy, maybe sweet tomato.

I need to call Dr. Brennan.

Are we done here?

Personal favorite: Santa Maria style.

I mean, the magic that happens between a fire and a piece of tri-tip...

(beep)

Hello?

Hey. Psst.

I got your text.

You found something?

Extra flats.

Painted plywood.

Surrounded by bearberry plants.

Yeah.

One of the victim's wounds was a through and through, meaning if he was sh*t against these flats, the b*llet would still be here.

Yeah, but they're riddled with b*ll*ts, so use that, uh, there magic light of yours so... see if we can find anything.

Brennan: Hopefully we'll find one with human tissue on it.

Brennan: We found the m*rder site.

Booth: Got it?

Yes. (laughs)

Yes!

What's... Uh, hey, I saw you at the barbecue earlier with Glen.

I mean... I'm sorry, but what are you trying to do-- you trying to make me jealous or something?

No, I'm just... I'm behaving in a non-routine manner.

Yeah, but why?

Because.

Hello. I'm a wild card.

(stammers) I'm full of fun and surprises.

I'm Wild Card Wanda, baby.

(clattering nearby)

That was Franny.

Booth: Why is she following us?

Francine Nichols? The Frontier Games owner?

Yup. I've been looking for a motive, and I think I might have found something.

This was in the victim's car.

A book about starting your own business.

Along with a bunch of real estate fliers, all for large, rural properties.

And check out the notes on them.

"Neighbors might be too close for g*n noise."

"Easy to find from airport for out-of-towners."

Stanley wanted to start his own Frontier Games?

That's what Booth and I are thinking.

Now, Franny comes from money, so it's not about that.

But Dr. Brennan said she broke her hip recently.

She couldn't have done this on her own.

Well, that is where Beau Macintosh comes in.

You remember that money that he used to pay off his child support?

Of course.

I'm tracing it now, but it seems about the going rate for an accomplice.

What...

Montenegro: Hey, uh, hi.

Oh, um, sorry we're late.

Christine found Michael Vincent's face paint, and we just lost track of time.

It's a long story.

Saroyan: Well, you're just in time.

Agent Aubrey brought over the contents of the victim's car.

Aubrey: So, Angela-- or should I say Speedy Bandita?

These look like more of the victim's work documents.

For you, Toxic Cat Man...

Really?

...this box has the forensic samples that the FBI techs removed from the car.

And, since you're all here, can you help me take these g*ns into the autopsy room?

Sebastian.

Can you put this...

Yeah.

Well, now that you're unarmed...

What are you doing here?

I'm on my way to the gallery.

The weather's meant to be lovely tonight, and I was considering taking a stroll around the reflecting pool.

Care to join me?

Oh, I'm not...

(sighs)

I'm having so much fun with you, Sebastian.

I mean, truly, this has been a gift.

But a... a walk.

I think I understand.

Sorry.

(sighs)

Is this the victim's left mandible?

Daisy: Upon reexamination, I found perimortem, interosseous bruising and subchondral lesions.

Which were obscured by his antemortem remodeling.

He was punched.

Astute observation, Ms. Wick.

Thank you.

Ask Dr. Hodgins to review his initial particulate samples.

Consider it done.

Thank you.

(whistles) Psst. Hey!

Okay, look, I was right, okay?

Aubrey says that Franny's the one that's been giving Beau all the money.

And Daisy said the victim was punched before he was sh*t.

Booth.

I feel so foolish.

Why do you feel so foolish?

All of this, all of it!

Ah.

It's so irrational. I mean, how could I think that flirting with another man and besting you at a game of skill would have a positive effect on our relationship?

(laughing): Wait a second.

First of all, if you think I'm worried about you running off with some doughy guy who's dressed in some U.S. Marshal's outfit that's way too tight, you're wrong.

Secondly, besting me?

I'm a trained sn*per.

I could win this competition blindfolded.

The only reason I'm not doing it is 'cause I don't want to raise any eyebrows.

I'm not so sure about that, Booth.

You're used to cutting-edge weapons.

(muttering)

Cowboy sh**ting requires a different sort of finesse.

You really think you can b*at me in this competition?

Oh.

I am b*ating you, Booth.

Okay, well... (clears his throat)

Booth, look.

What?

Look.

(indistinct conversation)

You should follow them.

Aren't you gonna come with me?

No, no! We're together too much.

It's, uh, getting suspicious.

Wait. Oh, I understand what you want to do.

I see it. I get it.

You want to stay here and work on your lasso for the cattle rustling event.

All right, I get it, I get it.

Well, guess what, Wild Card Wanda.

You're going down.

Rose: They're beautiful, aren't they?

I've wanted one since I was a kid.

What, the horses?

Franny's always nice enough to let me ride 'em when I'm here.

Right. Speaking of Franny, I've been looking for her.

I thought I saw her somewhere around here.

Check out back.

She's probably sneaking a cigarette.

Franny smokes?

Don't tell Luke.

He thinks she quit.

He'd k*ll her if he found out.

Right, right.

I have something for you.

The m*rder w*apon.

A Civil-w*r-era Spencer carbine.

We don't even have a suspect in custody.

Wait a second.

This is the victim's.

Yup. Caliber's a match, ballistics confirm it.

Do we know who had access to it?

Well, from what Booth says, pretty much everyone.

It's a trusting place.

People leave their g*n carts outside, on their porches.

Even someone who wasn't a contestant could get on the property, no problem.

(quietly): Bones.

Wanda.

All right, Franny wasn't following us.

How do you know?

Have you been smoking?

Investigating. Oh, look, I didn't inhale, okay?

Look, my gut is telling me that Franny and Beau are clean.

Based on evidence, or some nicotine-fueled flash of insight?

They're friends.

They hang out together.

They're smoking buddies.

What about the rival business?

It wasn't a rival, okay?

She was looking to expand, but I did find out something else.

What?

Well, they said that Stan was smoking like a chimney last month.

You know, like he had something on his mind.

Did he say what it was?

Well, they said that it was work-related.

Luke: Okay, Big River Buck, you're up.

Watch and learn, Wanda. (clicks tongue)

g*ns ready?

Ready.

Waiting on your cue.

Booth: You think you can take my family's cattle, Shorty?

Go ahead and try.

(buzz)

(applause, cheering and whooping)

Man: 12 out of 12, 20.9 seconds.

Well, I'll be darned, Buck, you finally kicked it into gear!

Yup.

See that, Wanda?

Wow.

You are the least squinty of all of us, and you're literally sitting in here squinting.

Yeah, it's just weird.

None of the documents from Stanley's car seem to be on his hard drive.

That is weird.

I'm gonna run a software recovery program, see if maybe some of them were deleted.

What's on the tray?

Oh, yeah.

So, I found trace amounts of turpentine on the victim's jaw, so I've been analyzing various formulations to try and find a match, and I think that I actually got one there.

"Venice turpentine."

I've used that for-for painting.

Really?

Well, it's primarily used on horses to repair cracked hooves.

But, yeah, no, it's got, like, a zillion other uses.

(computer chirps)

Montenegro: Ooh, hey.

There are the documents.

They were deleted from the victim's hard drive, and recently.

How recently?

After he was k*lled.

Yes, I did delete these files, but that's it.

I didn't k*ll the guy.

Well, then, what were you trying to hide?

Nothing.

I mean, nothing serious.

For Stanley, but for me...

If there is anything that'll make the flashing red arrow that says "k*ller" stop pointing at your head, I suggest you spit it out.

Okay. These documents, the accounts-- they were mine.

I was forcing Stanley to do my work for me.

Why?

I was trying to finish my novel.

I told Stanley, if he helped me, I would recommend him for a promotion.

But when he disappeared...

Listen, you're gonna help us out any way you can, maybe I won't tell your boss about this.

Of course.

Yeah, I'll do anything.

I can't get fired.

Well, not until I'm published, I mean, and then...

Brennan: Is that the neurocranium?

I'm still trying to explain the neck trauma.

The damage may be microscopic.

A large number of microfractures together could cause heavy internal bleeding.

Do you think...?

Dr. Brennan, are you still there?

Oh, I'm here.

I'm just preparing to outshoot Agent Booth at High Noon.

I suggest you do a microscopic analysis of the frontal bone via cross sections, one cell thick.

I'll get started right away.

Um, go get 'em, Dr. Brennan.

The name's Wild Card Wanda now, Ms. Wick.

And I will.

Aubrey: Jim Shao says that all the documents concern the same company: a Clementine Construction.

Huh.

Is that one of the clients he tried to pawn off on Stanley?

Exactly. No idea why the victim was so interested in it, but Jim gave us the tax I.D. number and the SBA form, so let's see what we can dig up.

Yeah, okay.

(clears his throat)

(strumming upbeat melody)

You ever ride a horse, Angela?

Uh... yeah, a couple times.

Oh, beautiful thing, isn't it?

The communion between man and beast, moving together as one in the fog, thick as a blanket.

The sound of his breath.

Maybe it's yours.

Oh, hey, uh, I think I got something here.

The Social Security number on these documents-- it's fake.

The person who founded the company doesn't actually exist.

Meaning Clementine Construction is a front.

But for what?

Are you okay in here, Ms. Wick?

What's all this?

I'm studying the frontal bone in microslices.

Lots and lots and lots of microslices.

Huh. Care to elaborate?

I'm looking for trauma that would explain the internal hemorrhaging in the neurocranium.

And I found it.

Boy, did I find it.

Microfractures?

I'm so overwhelmed by the sheer number that I can't seem to figure it out.

Ask Angela for help once she gets back from the FBI.

If she scans in your data, she might be able to use a program that could help discern possible patterns.

That's a great idea. Thank you.

Dr. Saroyan, I didn't mean to, but I heard you outside the bone room earlier with that man.

Oh. Um... that was private.

I know.

And I know it's absolutely none of my business, but I understand how hard it is to open your heart again... after a loss.

It takes time, and it takes courage, but at some point, you have to risk it.

If you don't, you just... shrink a little inside.

Thank you, Daisy.

That means a lot coming from you.

(siren wails, applause)

Man: Nine out of 12, 23.2 seconds.

Seen the scoreboard?

You're tied all the way up in tenth place.

Tied with whom?

That Buck fella, believe it or not.

He came out of nowhere with his last couple of rounds.

All right, Wild Card Wanda, come on up here, girl.

You're next.

Franny: sh*t pattern is two sweeps and a loop.

Ready when you are.

I'm coming for you, you mangy bunch of curs!

And hell's coming with me!

(buzz)

(g*nshots, targets clanging)

(siren wails)

(applause)

Man: 12 out of 12, 18.8 seconds.

Think you can top that?

All right.

I'm coming for you, you mangy curs, and hell's coming with me.

(buzz)

(siren wails)

Man: 12 out of 12, 16.7 seconds.

Luke: Unbelievable! I believe that is the best we've ever seen here at the Frontier Games.

Glen: That's impossible.

He's cheating.

He's not.

Aubrey: Clementine Construction only had one client, and guess who it was.

Frontier Games, Limited.

Saroyan (over phone): Aha.

I guess now we know why Stanley was so interested.

Have you talked to Booth yet?

Yeah, he says he's seen absolutely no sign of construction anywhere on the property, but I'm headed there now.

To the Frontier Games?

Why? I'm sure Booth has everything under control.

I just... I got a bad feeling.

I think I should be nearby.

Are you sure it's not because you're a little jealous?

Don't insult me, Dr. Saroyan.

There is something that we are still missing, and whatever it is got Stanley k*lled.

But I'll admit, I am wearing a poncho.

(upbeat folk music playing)

Congratulations, Wanda.

Third place.

Thank you.

Yeah. Hey, I got you a little something to remember this weekend by.

Oh.

Some of the Old West.

I saw how you were admiring these when you first arrived.

Painted by High Card Luke himself.

Oh, that is so thoughtful of you. Thank you.

You know, I was thinking, um, maybe I could call you sometime.

Before you answer, I'm gonna get us some drinks.

I'll be right back.

Luke: Hey, everyone. Uh, Franny and I want to thank you all for joining us this weekend.

And now I'd like y'all to pick a partner for this very special song.

It's my husband's favorite.

And just because I can't dance so good these days doesn't mean you shouldn't. All right?

("Oh My Darling, Clementine" playing)

Brennan: All these paintings, Luke did them.

Well, that's great.

Well, whoever punched the victim had turpentine on his hands.

Turpentine can be used as a glazing medium for oil paint.

Wait a second. This song...

It's "My Darling, Clementine."

That's it.

Clementine Construction is Luke, you understand?

He was embezzling money from his wife.

Stanley must have figured it out, threatened to expose him, Luke k*lled him. Let's go.

Uh, we make a great team, don't we?

Still think you could take me at target sh**ting?

Well, with practice.

Booth, do you still think that our life together is routine?

Come on.

Why would you think that?

I would never think that.

Why else do you want a motorcycle?

Why do birds fly, Bones?

Because it's cool.

That's not why birds fly.

Come here, you.

Oh.

Oh!

There is a code among cowboys, Buck!

Now, I-I told you from the start, dang it, I-I had my eyes set on Wanda.

Calm down.

It's not what you think.

I don't need to think.

I have eyes.

And I have free will, which means you can't actually fight over me.

That's right. So just take a step back there, Marshal.

Oh, you just made a mistake.

Man: Whoa, watch out.

(crowd murmuring)

Man: Uh-oh. Look out!

(crowd gasping, murmuring)

(grunting)

Man: Oh, nice one!

Hey. Thanks, Bones.

Aubrey, what are you doing here?

Isn't it obvious?

I'm your posse!

(grunting)

(g*nsh*t)

That's it!

We got a zero-tolerance policy here on fighting! I'm sorry, but, Glen, Buck, you're both disqualified.

I don't think so.

There's a new sheriff in town, and his name is Special Agent Seeley Booth.

And you're under arrest for the m*rder of Stanley Belridge.

Brennan: And I'm not Wanda.

I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan.

I'm also the mother of his children.

That's right.

Sorry.

(groans)

Does this mean that I won?

Stanley figured out that you were stealing money from Franny.

You waited until you knew that he was alone, you took his g*n, and you k*lled him.

No, I didn't k*ll Stanley.

I hit him. That's all.

And he accused me of some nonsense.

I told him that he was no longer welcome here.

Franny: Is it true?

Have you been stealing from me?

Your wife asked you a question.

I'm gonna need a lawyer.

(sighs)

Daisy: This is the victim's frontal bone.

And every single one of these spots is a microfracture?

Yeah, there are thousands.

Daisy: At first glance, they appear random, but upon analysis...

Montenegro: You can see that they're actually arranged along overlapping lines, each line measuring approximately five to six centimeters in length.

Meaning that the victim was hit repeatedly in the forehead by something.

Saroyan: What about boots?

Kicked in the head with square-toed cowboy boots?

Yeah. I mean, if they were steel inside, it could definitely cause this kind of damage.

Not that a pair of cowboy boots is gonna narrow our suspect pool.

Folks, please just...

(crowd murmuring)

You need to get some ice on it.

I don't need ice.

Booth, listen to me.

He didn't even hit me. It was...

Will you look at this?

Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Well, Francine's pretty torn up.

I don't know if she's got it in her to press charges.

We need more physical evidence.

What... what are you doing?

I just thought I'd do a quick check of the perimeter.

(phone chimes)

Right. For what? Come on.

You're just looking for an excuse to ride there, Ponyboy.

Yeah, well, I figured while I'm here.

That text was from the lab.

It seems our victim was struck on the forehead by a heavy object 2,047 times.

Okay, w-wait a second.

How is that even possible?

I don't know.

It was a horse.

Hmm?

Booth, it was a horse. See?

Stirrups-- heavy steel, wrapped with leather.

The victim wasn't moved to the dump site by car.

He was flung over the back of the horse.

That also explains the rope around the feet and the neck trauma.

The victim was draped facedown, and then his neck and feet were tied together around the horse's belly to secure him.

So, with every step, the victim's head was pulled down by the rope and then slammed into the stirrups? Ouch.

Brennan: Oh, here. Blood.

We got him.

Except there's one problem.

This isn't Luke's saddle.

It's Franny's saddle.

But Franny can't even ride.

I think I know what happened.

Booth: Look, we know that you purchased a small ranch in North Carolina.

We also know that you purchased a four-year-old American Paint, purebred horse.

Yeah. So?

Both were paid for in cash, in amounts remarkably similar to withdrawals made from the bank account of Clementine Construction.

Luke Nichols gave you the money, didn't he?

You two were having an affair.

He loves me.

He only stayed with Franny 'cause he didn't want to hurt her.

Also because she's rich.

Stanley knew.

He threatened to tell Franny.

Booth: And you weren't gonna let that happen, were you?

You didn't want Stanley taking away the one thing that you wanted in life.

Your horse.

You k*lled Stanley.

(sniffles)

Promise me you'll find her a good home.

Booth: It'll be a lot nicer than jail, that's for sure.

Hi.

Hi.

I was just putting some stuff away.

I'll be ready in a second.

I'm not, Angela.

I-I'm not ready.

Oh.

Hey, here.

Just sit with me for a second.

This is about us.

What does that mean?

I love us.

So much.

The three of us.

We're like... a tight little cocoon of love.

Well, doesn't more kids mean more love?

Yes. Yeah. But the... a-a division starts to happen.

It's a natural one.

It's a good one, where there are the parents and there are the kids.

And right now, you know, it's-it's just you, me and Michael Vincent, and we're just... us.

And I don't...

I don't know if I'm ready yet to make room for anyone else.

I'm so sorry, Angela.

I just...

I-I wanted to be honest.

Saroyan: Hi.

Hey.

You want to take a walk?

Yeah.

(crickets chirping)

Booth: Hey, Bones, you know what doesn't get enough praise around here?

(toy squeaking)

Routine.

You're making fun of me.

No, I'm not. Come on.

Bath, lotion, story, snuggles.

I love it. I love routine.

I'm glad.

Good.

Mm-hmm.

(sighs)

I have something for you.

Something for me? Wow.

Mm-hmm.

Close your eyes.

Closing eyes.

It's a surprise.

You're gonna love it.

Gonna love it. Okay, here we go.

Something you want.

Booth: Tell me when.

Okay. Tell me when I should open 'em up.

Okay. This is good.

This is good. Hold on, wait.

Okay, I'm waiting.

This is good... Now.

Now?

Uh-huh.

What's that?

It's a motorcycle.

No, it's not.

Yes, it is.

It has a motor, and... uh, "cycle," from the Latin cyclus, or circle, can be applied to any wheeled vehicle.

You can't be serious.

Yes, I... Booth, I got you a helmet, too.

See? Very cool.

Listen, Bones, I...

This is... this is just...

I-I mean, I really appreciate this kind gesture and all.

I mean, it's very thoughtful, but, you know what? (bell dings)

There's no way in hell I am riding this or wearing that.

Are you sure?

Yes, I am sure.

Well, maybe I'll keep it for myself, you know? I mean, I did win the contest.

I deserve something special.

You didn't win the contest.

I did.

You were disqualified, Booth.

You want to win on a technicality?

Rules are rules, Booth.

You gotta be kidding me.

How do I look?

Like someone who came in third place.

First place.

Okay, I'm gonna... Yeah.

I don't know how to get the...

Don't crash! motor working here.

(bicycle bell ringing)

What's that mean?