All language subtitles for Bones S02E05 - The Truth in the Lye [YIFY]

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.

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.

He killed himself.

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.

Deal.

After tonight, I mean.

Never again.

No.