All language subtitles for Bones S02E13 - The Girl in the Gator [YIFY]

Florida? Today?

Is that work?
Yeah.

Hot, fun,
Miami, Florida or sticky,

you know,
swampy Florida?

Yeah. Your welcome.

What's going
on in Florida?

Wait a second, what flight?

Hold on a second,
I can't hear you.

Enough with the song already,
all right?!

I'm doing business here.
Deal with it!

Hold on for a second.

Wait, now my pen's
out of ink.

here

You know, hold
on, you know.

I can't hear
anything!

The kids love the music.

Well, I don't
see any kids.

The music
attracts them!

Why didn't you
say the Everglades?

Look, I can't hear anything
because of this insane music!

You shot my clown!

Okay, flight number?

Okay. Thanks.

Okay, we're all set.

That was not good.

I thought you said you'd be
down on the next flight.

I haven't met with
the shrink yet.

What shrink?

Oh, the department psychiatrist
has to sign a piece of paper saying,

you know, that I'm not nuts
before I get my gun back.

So I got an appointment
tomorrow.

Great.

Now I have to break in
this Agent Sullivan.

Wait, wait, Sully's a great guy.

Okay? And for your information,
you never broke me in.

I think that's him.

Okay, I'll talk to you later.

Dr. Brennan?

Agent Sullivan?

Uh-huh.

Name's Eugene.

Oh, okay, Eugene.

No, not me, I'm Sully-
short for Sullivan.

Well, then,
who's Eugene?

Eugene's been king of this swamp
for as long as I can remember.

Broke my heart
to have to shoot him.

Is there an actual human victim?

Inside Eugene.

He ate somebody?

Damn spring-breakers
think it's a real kick

to come down here and drink beer
with the big fellow.

I just chased off a bunch
of them, and there was Eugene

in the middle of the swamp,
gulping down somebody's arm.

Someone from the group
of kids you chased off?

No, no.

Gator's don't eat fresh kills.

They drown their prey, then
they stuff it down underwater

to tenderize for a few weeks
before they can eat them.

Okay, why don't you drag the rest of
the swamp for any additional remains.

I'll check Fort Lauderdale
missing persons.

You, start cutting.
No.

Well... isn't that
what you do?

Any potential remains are far too sensitive
to be retrieved here.

Okay, well,
where do you suggest?

My lab at the Jeffersonian.

The whole gator?

I'll handle transport.

You're gonna need a big crate.

And a lot of ice.

Okeydoke.

Well, if you're
doing this,

then there's a boat for sale

that I'd like to check out.

A boat?

Booth helps.

Because Booth can't relax.

There's something metal in here.

Don't you have a boat to buy?

www. 1000fr. com present

Capture:FRM@MAOREN
Sync:FRM@Uranus

I knew it was a gator,
Brennan told me it was a gator,

and yet... wow.

Definitely
confirms one thing:

We have the
coolest jobs ever.

Look at all these teeth.

Step away, please.

There are 80 in total.

Note the conical shape.

"Step away, please"?

Just because you have
a doctorate now,

does not mean I won't
use you as a swizzle stick.

Animal foot, possibly a rabbit.

Not so lucky
for either of them.

Frog.

Yummy.

Do I hear music?

Hey, I liked
that song.

What do you think, Zack?

Definitely a human foot.

Lovely.

Dr. Wyatt.

Ah, Agent Booth, is it?

Yes. Gordon.
Gordon Wyatt.

Right, you
the shrink?

Shrink, yes,
meaning, uh, psychiatrist.

That's great, doc.
How's about you, uh,

just sign my piece
of paper here,

and I'll get back
to work, all right?

Certainly.
No, no, I have a pen.

Um, do you mind if I ask what
exactly it was that you did?

Yeah, I shot a truck.

Ah, full of terrorists,
no doubt,

or plutonium or fleeing felons, was it?

Nah, it was an ice cream truck.

>> Napisy pobrane z http:/napisy. org <<
>>>>>>>> nowa wizja napis�w <<<<<<<<

Yeah, the music,
it was bothering me.

Ah.

Yeah, there
was a speaker in a clown's mouth.

Yeah, I just pulled out my gun,
you know, and...

Gone.

So the FBI sent you to me
because you shot a clown?

Not a real clown.

I suggest you cogitate
on the underlying reasons

you shot that clown
while I make us some tea.

Cogitate?

Tea?

The depth of
these bite marks...

very impressive.

One torn pair
of jeans.

One red linen blouse,

size two.

And one platform wedge.

Made it all the way
to the lower intestine.

Florida FBI just beamed over
names of recent missing persons.

We'll need dental records.

Sully.
Cam.

Look at you, in charge
of Moon Base Alpha here.

And you're still a G-man.

What happened to that restaurant
you were gonna open?

Or was it a... petting zoo?

Well, I'm keeping myself open
for the perfect opportunity.

I tried out a beautiful boat in Florida.

But he made it back to shore.

Victim is female,
in her late teens,

eliminating three of your missing persons
right here.

So cause of death?

For the gator?

We have these. 45 caliber slugs.

Okeydoke.

Well, um...

I am gonna go
grab a slice,

so give me a call
when you got an ID.

Her name's Judy Dowd.

Shouldn't you at least look at
the X-rays before deciding that?

Says right here

she had surgery to repair
a cleft palate at age two.

The bone graft is here.

She was a freshman
at Virginia State.

Reported missing
three weeks ago.

An alligator?

Oh, my...

When did you last see
your daughter, Mr. Dowd?

The day she left
with her friend

for spring break.

Her friend, uh...

Abigail Sims?

Abby.

Good kid.

I never should've let her go.

We found this among the remains.

This was her
mother's.

Lainie died

when Judes was 11.

It's just been
the two of us ever since.

Did you get
any calls from her while she was there?

Every day.

Any sign that
she was in trouble?

No.

She...

She sounded happy.

So happy.

You are really English.

Oh, I don't know, I think
I've assimilated quite well.

Typical American house, right
down to the white picket fence,

truck that's the, uh- what is
it?- the heartbeat of America.

But tea, tea is

sacrosanct, thank you very much.

Me, I'm a coffee drinker.
Listen, pal...

You know, in an effort to
understand your culture better,

I've been trying to embrace this very American
practice

of preparing meat in the garden.

Barbeque.

Mm, it's a delightful
word, isn't it?

"Barbeque. "

I think it's from
the Caribbean, barabicu,

which means a sort of
sacred fire pit.

Did you know that the Latin
for "hearth" though is "focus. "

Isn't that revealing?

It's quite literally
the focal point of every household.

The hearth, the heart. Huh?

I told the ice cream guy
I was sorry, all right?

I even bought him
a new clown head.

So just sign the paper.

I must apologize,

but I've got to go off and get
some ingredients for my mortar.

Um, why don't we reschedule?

We can't reschedule,
all right?

I got to get back to work!

Oh.

Well, in that case, um,

why not finish off
preparing this area here?

Could you do that?

All the specifications
are on the plans.

You are fit for physical labor,
aren't you?

I mean,
the clown didn't return fire, did it?

Well, what if I said that the plastic clown
did fire back, huh?

Brilliant.

Now, while I'm gone,
what I want you to do

is to consider what you were
really aiming at

when you drew a bead
on that unfortunate clown.

Hey, buddy,

when I aim
at something,

I hit it.

Precisely.

Anyway, I shan't
be long, Agent.

It's all on
the plans here.

I'll be back
before long, Agent.

See you then.

Do help yourself to
more tea, by the way.

Like I told the police,

me and Judy were just doing
the usual spring break stuff.

The whole night
was kind of a blur

until I woke up the next morning
at the hotel

and Judy wasn't there.

She hadn't come back with you?

I can't remember.

So why didn't you report it to
someone till later that night?

I thought maybe she'd hooked up.

Hooked up?

With anyone in particular?

We met so many guys.

You know how it is.

I'm guessing that she doesn't.

Do you have any pictures
from that night, Abby?

No. The police
took most of them.

Wait, most of them?

There's a couple on my personal Web page

I didn't want them
showing poor Mr. Dowd.

Judy would never want him
seeing her like that.

Like... what?

Here's the spectrophotometric
evaluation on Judy Dowd.

Any results yet
on her tox screen?

No drugs, but her blood-
alcohol was sky high.

Point one-one, and...

Oh, dear.

What?

SPM reveals hidden hematomas
in decomped tissue.

See this shaded
area here?

It indicates bruising
to her vaginal wall.

Meaning Judy was raped?

Or at the very least, subjected to
some extremely unpleasant college sex.

With one of these
fine lads?

Without DNA, it's the proverbial
needle in a haystack.

Wait.

Our victim was an HSB?

Excuse me?

Hotty-Student-Body. com.

It's this website that
gets drunk college girls

from all over the East Coast
to take their clothes off.

I clicked on a pop-up,
got caught in a pornado.

Oh, splendid.

So, was it your father who
taught you to read plans?

Wrong tree, Doc, okay?
Dad and I were tight.

Only, it's just that
earlier you said

you weren't used
to drinking tea with men,

which suggests
to me that you are usually pretty rigid

in
your assignment of gender roles.

What? No, no, m-m-my
partner's a woman, okay?

A woman who needs my help.

Ah, but are you currently
involved with anyone?

I just broke up
with someone, okay?

Me. And I ended it.

And how long had you been
involved with her?

Or, or him?

Her. Let's get that
straight, okay? Her.

Couple months this time.

This time?

We'd gone on- we'd gone out
b- before a, a few years ago,

and, uh, you know,

we, uh,
I broke it up when, uh,

you know, my ex wanted
to give it another go.

Complicated.

Ah... that's it!

I shot the clown because I can't
let go of the women in my life.

Ha! Thanks, Doc.

All right,
now I can go back to work,

and you can
sign the paper.

Excellent theory,
but quite wrong.

And... we're
out of time.

Tomorrow all
right for you?

I tried.

We found a stab wound.

Let's see it.

It's more of a puncture really

hidden here among the bite
marks just below her scapula.

Angela doesn't like me
being her superior.

Because you're acting superior.

Which is what a superior is.

Don't be
a horse's ass.

She's your friend;
that's all that matters.

These ridge marks
inside the wound look like the threads of a screw.

We're trying to ID the weapon.

Well, at
the very least,

it proves that Judy
didn't stumble into the swamp and feed herself to Eugene.

That was my conclusion as well.

Okay.

And the hits
keep coming.

Seems Judy Dowd
was raped and murdered.

No more rough college sex?

Now that we know
it's a murder,

I'm feeling
a lot less charitable.

What is all this?
Have a look.

Hotty Body rule...!

It was shot in Fort Lauderdale
the same night Judy disappeared.

Who's that?

His name is Monte Gold,

internet kingpin
and aspiring Hugh Hefner.

Monte has made millions off of this site.

He also paid out a million
in fines last year

for filming underage girls.

Monte Gold?

Uh-oh, grown-ups with badges.

Lloyd!

Hi, I'm, uh, Monte's
producer, Lloyd.

We've got, uh, shooting permits
and signed waivers.

You know this girl?

She's on your Web site.

Yeah, and a thousand more
like her.

Might as well ask a Chinese guy
to remember a grain of rice.

She's not a grain
of rice, sport.

She's dead.

Eddie, off! Cameras off!

Go away, babies, come on,
shoo, let's go.

What do you mean dead?

Her name's Judy Dowd.

We found her in Florida
raped, murdered and fed to an alligator.

And she's posted on my Web site?

Lloyd, do you
know about this?

How would I know?
Get her off now, Lloyd.

Now! Go!
Right, right.

Did you say an alligator?

We never would have posted her
if we knew.

Monte is insanely careful.
Not always, from what I hear.

But he learns
from his mistakes.

Now, every ID,
triple-checked for 18

before any girl signs
the waiver.

Idiot!

You let her on my bus?

I didn't want to
be rude, Monte.

Off the bus.
Your boyfriend has no warrant.

You know,
anthropologically speaking,

you follow a very
ancient tradition.

Okay.

Entrepreneur?

Pimp.

Class is over.

Off the bus.

Here you go.

Follow His path, learn His word.

You, too, follow His
path, learn His word.

Uh-oh, there it is!

Another misguided waif tumbles from
the Devil's sin-mobile.

Excuse me?
Uh, no, uh,

she's with me.
Why are you winking?

I'm not with-
h- he's with me.

This is Isaac.

Isaac's with the Church of the High Calling
way down in Eldon, Kansas.

Yeah, but let me
tell you something,

there is no
distance too great

to dissuade
these lost young women

from the grips
of Monte Gold's carnal temptation.

Looks like you plan on
saving a lot of souls.

Women like this?

Oh.

Uh-oh.

Who is she?

Huh, what did Monte do to her?

Give it a rest, Isaac.

Monte, hey, hey,
remember me?

I'm Alan;
I sent you, uh, my r�sum?

Not now, man.

Hey, hey, look, I'm,
I'm a great webmaster.

Another sinner about to throw
hisself into Satan's hellfire.

Shut up, freak!

Hey, hey, you come back,
I call the cops.

Get him out of here.

You'll never work
for me, pal.

Has God even fed you today,
Isaac?

Okay, let's get you
a sandwich, Isaac.

Eddie, make the preacher
some food, will you?

What?

The wing nuts come
with the territory.

Okay, let's quit
playing games.

What is it
you want to know?

Fort Lauderdale.

Lauderdale was
Lauderdale.

Partied that night,

gave some willing girls
their 15 minutes of fame,

and, uh, headed out to Daytona
for the next day's gig.

Any girls ride with you?

Much as I hate
to disappoint you, uh,

the fact is I'm not
"entertaining" like I used to.

Ah, getting too old
to exploit little drunk girls?

You seen the videos?
They exploit themselves.

Ready to roll
when you are, Monte.

Now they all want to be a
Hotty Body. Walk into a place

and the shirts fly off, making
what used to be a rush kind of,

I don't know, mundane.

Because you objectify them.

You never see
what makes them human.

Man, you have to spend all day
with her?

Yeah, an actual woman.

You ought to try it sometime.

Video's off the site, there's
a copy of the girl's waiver.

You know, I think I, uh, think
I remember this girl. You do?

Yeah, you remember, Lloyd.

We were leaving the Lauderdale
gig and you made a joke

about the bouncer
swapping spit with that girl?

That was this girl?

Pretty sure.

Oh, she was hot.

Passed the two of them
playing tonsil hockey in the doorway.

That bouncer was
a big dude, too.

And it's me you're harassing?

Let's go, Eddie.

This waiver is a joke.

I mean, look
at Judy's signature.

She could barely
hold a pen.

Well, Florida Bureau's
gonna scoop up this bouncer and call me back.

We need to get back in that bus.

We need cause
for a warrant.

You tell Mario that
he is still an artist.

What is that?

Mm.

Only the finest sausage
and peppers on Earth.

Someday, I'm gonna turn it
into a franchise.

You want a bite?

I, I thought you
were buying a boat.

I am.

Maybe I'll start
a charter service.

I can serve these
to the passengers.

You know? In Jamaica.

Good.
Mm, the word is great.

Or maybe I'll manage a band,
you know?

They could play
on the boat, too.

So you don't, you don't
like being an FBI agent?

Oh, sure, I-I do.

I just don't want it
to be the only thing I ever was.

You're telling me you're
just going to be a bone lady your whole life?

I've spent years studying
anthropology.

Well, I got a degree,

but I'm not going
to let it ruin my life.

I'm going back to the lab.

Mm, here.

Take one of these with you
back to that spaceship.

I'll call you when, uh,
we get our bouncer.

Ah, Jamaica.

I can dig it, mon.

Oh.
Hi.

Um, do we have
a scheduled...

Uh, listen, I really need
to get back to work,

so why don't you give me one of
those clown restraining orders

and just sign my paper.

Have you had an insight, then,

as to why you shot at that clown? Yeah.

You know,
I have something to say.

It's right here.
That's my...

Bones calling, huh, my partner.

Right? Yeah, Bones.

So when are you
coming back again?

What, aren't you playing nice
with Sully?

I'm just not sure
how serious he is about his job.

Oh, look, he's one
of the best, all right?

He just likes
to keep his options open.

I've noticed.

Listen, Bones, Sully,

he, uh, lost his partner about,
uh, a year ago, all right?

Something like that happens,
you just,

you hear that clock
on the inside

ticking just
a little bit louder.

So, uh, you know,
you're in good hands.

Here he comes, so I gotta
go, gotta go, gotta go.

All right, so maybe
I am a little irritable.

Why do you think
that might be?

Come on, look, don't they give
you, like, papers and files and reports?

All right, um...

Me and my partner caught
up to this serial killer

by the name of Howard
Epps, and he died.

And whose fault was that Yours or your partner's?

He jumped over that
balcony because of her.

Sometimes I think he
had the right idea.

And where were you
when Mr. Epps fell?

Holding his arm.

No, that was before
he fell, surely.

What?

Well, Mr. Epps was dangling
from your arm before he fell,

at which point he was no
longer dangling but falling. Attached to you,

he was alive;
no longer attached, dead.

I don't feel guilty about that.

I mean,
Epps was a serial killer.

He tried to kill my partner

and he threatened
my son- I was glad when he hit that pavement.

Do you think
about suicide often?

Suicide?

Me?

No, no, never.

And yet you sometimes feel that
Howard Epps had the right idea

about jumping off that balcony?

It was a joke, okay?

It was a joke.

Yes... you do that a lot,
don't you?

And it makes me feel
such a bully for prying.

We'll pick up
on that next time.

Increase magnification.

Please.

If you're ready.

I don't mean to appear
dictatorial,

I just...
I get it, Zack.

Hey.
So what are we looking at?

Bits of gold foil imbedded deep within bite
marks along the T-11 and T-12 vertebrae.

Jewelry?

More likely scenario has the gator's
teeth piercing Judy's stomach.

Embedding whatever
she last ingested into her bone?

How would someone eat gold?

Not eat.

Drink.

Goldenrod.

Goldenrod?

It's this hundred-proof cinnamon
schnapps we drank in college.

It's infused with real gold flakes,
purely for decadence sake.

How did it taste?

Uh, it's way worse coming up,
I can tell you that.

She could've wandered
into bars we don't know about.

If we can find the every place
that carries that stuff...

I don't think
we'll need to, Doc.

We've got our bouncer.

Of course, he denies all, but
his alibi just about buries him.

Buries him how?

Well, he said he left work early that night to get
to his other job:

Giving Midnight Swamp Tours
on his boat.

Sounds like a good job actually.

So he's admitted to knowing
the Everglades like the back of his hand?

Which would not be smart if he were in fact the killer.

Well, most of the killers
I know aren't all that smart.

The gold flakes are definitely from
the liquor we found in her system.

And I remembered
something.

Monte and his harem, so what?

Check out the caption:

"All the girls love
Monte's Gold. "

Now granted,
there's plenty of bars

that carry this stuff
but...

But this could be
the probable cause we need to search Monte's bus.

I'll get the warrant.

The bouncer's alibi checked out.

So Monte's minions were likely
just trying to throw us off.

Unbelievable, you people.

What is it now?
Hey, hey.

Cool your jets, Hef.

We just wanna
search your bus.

This is you, isn't it?

Please don't point
your finger at me.

I knew the first time I saw you.

Here comes another
feminist crusader out to spoil some good all-American fun!

Ow, get off, get off!

Self-defense,
he assaulted me.

Yes, he did.

Crazy bitch,
I'm calling my lawyer.

Here, you can read him this.

Now I just hope
we find something.

There.

That's not exactly
a smoking gun.

Can you prove
she drank it here?

I can try.

Okay, you can only admit
evidence that's in plain view.

Although, on this bus,
that could be DNA.

On virtually any surface.

That's an image.

Keep your eyes open for a metal
screw-threaded thingy.

A what now?

Judy's stab wound was probably

from a bolt of some kind
right through here.

Oh, just inside
her scapula.

Yes, but...

most laymen refer to it
as a shoulder blade.

Well, I told you
I went to college.

I minored in kinesiology.

Although this is the first time
I've used it to impress a lady.

What was your major?

Art History.

Um, I also got a Master's certificate
in sailing, a pilot's license,

and I'm a certified EMT.

There's more,
but I don't wanna brag.

Hold on.

Hi, Hodgins.

Judy Dowd wasn't killed at
the swamp where she was found.

Cryptosporidium on her clothes
came from saw grass,

a plant that doesn't even grow
in Eugene's swamp.

Where does it grow?

Pretty much everywhere else in the Everglades,

but in terms of gator distance,

there's a saw grass marsh
two miles south,

where Alligator Alley meets
State Road 29.

All that from cryptosporidium?

Did I not mention the fresh
asphalt in Judy's shoe?

That intersection was
just repaved about a month ago.

Very Interesting.

Thanks, Hodgins.

Hmm, what's interesting?

Ms. Montenegro?

I'm Bill Dowd,
Judy's father.

Oh.

Hi.

Um, I'm sorry.

How do you know me?

The FBI told me that the Jeffersonian was
investigating Judy's murder.

I read your team's
biographies online,

saw your picture.

And followed me here?

I'm sorry, I know
how that must look,

but I just...

need answers.

I need to know who
killed my daughter.

I'm sorry, Mr. Dowd,
there's nothing I can tell you.

I already know
about the website.

And this Monte Gold
son of a bitch.

The FBI told you about that?

Buddy from my job
found the video.

He thought I'd be embarrassed,

but all I care about
is what happened next.

Did this guy kill her?

I really can't discuss the case.

The way he was pawing
at my girl on that video,

he's gotta be a suspect.

At, at this point, Mr. Dowd,

there are a lot of suspects.

But not many like him.

I mean, do you
trust him?

Do you think he's a good man?

No.

Of course not.

I find him repulsive.

Please, I just gotta know.

Was it him?

I'm very sorry
about your daughter, Mr. Dowd.

There's nothing I can say.

I understand.

I shouldn't have put you
on the spot.

I'm sorry.

You lied about
the bouncer, Eddie.

What?

The bouncer in Lauderdale?
You never saw him kissing

Judy Dowd the night
she went missing.

Really?

I was sure
it was them.

Hey, you drive the bus,
too, don't you?

Yeah, so?

So you drove out of Lauderdale,

straight up the 95
to Daytona?

Is that what Monte said?

Yeah, straight up 95.

You sure about that?

Oh, no, uh, that's right
there was, uh, construction.

We got detoured
cross state on 75.

Right, 75.

Isn't that Alligator Alley?

Yeah.

Come on, Eddie,
a girl is dead.

We didn't kill her.

But she was on your bus.

She had a few drinks.

You have sex with her?

No.

No way. I was driving.

While Monte had
sex with her?

I guess.

You guess?
Was... was it consensual?

All I know is
she was drunk.

All right, really drunk.

And when Monte got done
with her,

she came up by me,
wanted to get off the bus.

Eddie, don't say anything!

Where were you in all this?

Lloyd drives in
front of us.

It was just me and Monte
on the bus. Shut up, Eddie.

Monte's lawyer says
we don't have to talk to anybody until he gets here.

He has nothing to worry about.

No one's under arrest.

Why'd you let her
off the bus, Eddie?

I didn't want to.

It was really dark.

She could barely stand up.

Then Monte wanted her off.

He was pissed off,
she was crying...

Eddie. He was gonna fire me if I didn't.

We owe Monte
a lot, okay?

The guy's been
really good to us.

And we knew that none
of us killed her.

Well, if you
let her off

the bus in the middle of nowhere in that condition,
you may as well have.

Look, when Eddie told me
where she got off the bus,

I went back there
and looked for her.

I must have driven
that road for an hour.

I figured she hitched a ride back.

You figured. He figured.

Maybe Monte made
a bad call in letting the girl off,

but she wanted off.

So he was just doing
what she asked.

Except for the sex part.

You know what?
You you can't prove that.

I wouldn't bet against her.

So, is Monte still in his office?

No.

He had an appointment
back at the Iguana Club up in Maryland.

Okay.

You know what?

I'm in America,
we're men,

let's drink coffee,
not tea, hey?

Oh, I say,

doing a marvelous job.

Thank you.

That's not coffee.

Ah. What is it?
I don't know

what the hell it is but it
sure as hell isn't coffee, doc.

You tend to do things well,
don't you?

Make coffee. Build barbecue machines.

It's not really a "machine. "

Solve crimes, raise a son,
love women. Leave women.

Whatever you
aim at, you hit.

Is that bad?

By no means, no,of course not,
except...

Oh, okay,
here we go.

Let me have it, doc.

Except it is indicative of a need to control
your environment.

Again I ask, uh, is that bad?

No, of course not, no.

Except...
Except?

Except when you shoot a clown.

You know, you make it sound like he was walking around
making balloon animals.

For the most part,
your rebellions are small.

rebellions?

The colorful socks,
the funky belt buckles.

They're a mechanism.

Quiet rebellions.

Your way of asserting your personal
control over a homogenizing organization

like the FBI.

But shooting a clown is not
a quiet rebellion.

Shooting a clown is
literally quite deafening.

Booth.
Hey, it's me.

Yeah, hold on for a second,
wait why is it, doc,

every time I answer
the phone you walk away?

Why do you answer the phone
knowing it'll make me walk away?

Yeah, you know what, Bones,
I gotta call you back.

Is Sully for real?

What?

I just can't decide whether
or not to take him seriously.

Why was he acting
unprofessional?

No, he's, he's very
professional, it's just...

can he really do
all he says he can do?

Oh, you mean that whole
master C=carpentry thing?

Yeah, well, you know what,
he, uh, made me a dining room set last year.

He's a carpenter, as well?

As well as what?

That's... Sully calling right now.

We're, um,...

we're doing, you know,

what we did.

Oh, you know, I'll be back soon.

Okay.

I'll talk to you later.

So maybe Monte can tell us

why he left the girl
on the side of the road.

Hey, there's
a store for rent.

Sausage and
pepper shop?

That's funny.

Take my lead.

I know what I'm doing,
didn't Booth tell you?

Yeah.

Take my lead.

Wait, wait, wait.

That's his car.

?ood outside his club.

It's the last thing
you said to Monte, Isaac.

"His judgment cometh
and that right soon. "

It's not even a Bible verse,
the judgment thing.

It's a line from Shawshank.

Who's that?

Vengeance is mine,
sayeth the Lord.

Look, if Monte's wicked deeds cost him his life, it
was the work of a hand

far mightier than my own.

And where exactly have your hands been
the last five hours?

Working on my truck- I got
garage receipts to prove it.

Hey, Angela, what's up?

Hey, I, uh...

I think that you might
have the wrong man.

What do you mean?

I made a mistake, Brennan.

I only wanted
to scare him.

I didn't go there to kill him.

But what he said...

three words.

He only said three words
in his defense.

"She wanted it. "

She didn't, Mr. Dowd.

That much we do know.

Is there anyone
you want to call, sir?

No.

There isn't anybody.

There was Judy.

Just Judy.

So this is the
culprit, huh?

Result of your metal
screw-headed thingy?

Zack managed to identify this bone bruise.

Across posteriors six thru eight.

Show off.

Okay, I've got my weapons
list and visual aids,

courtesy of Angela.

Now, we know
the wound was caused

by a blunt steel dowel with
screw threads at the top.

Bruising around her is the rough
size and shape of a harmonica.

Now theoretically, the
head of the weapon struck,

leaving the bruising,
but then broke.

Allowing the steel dowel beneath to be driven into Judy's back.

So possible weapons include...

a shovel handle
with steel shaft.

A golfer's wooden putter
with aluminum shaft.

Okay, a gear shifter?

That's an alloy gear shifter
with a grip-shaped handle.

This doesn't look like
it could cause the injury.

Unless it didn't
have a handle.

Yeah, though she'd probably not
have been killed standing up.

She'd have to be thrown down,
and then impaled.

Preacher man had one
of these in his truck.

With a tennis ball where
the handle should have been.

Hiding the exposed
threads underneath.

And he follows Monte everywhere.

Don't let us
interrupt you, Isaac.

I was praying
for His guidance

in bringing an end
to this harassment.

Yeah, well he can't
answer them all, can He?

Where were you headed?

Home, if that's any
of your business.

Back to your church, huh?

I gotta tell you, I wish I'd
called them sooner about you.

You did this? You called them?

Yeah, are you sure you weren't
headed back to Florida?

Stop along Alligator Alley? Make
sure you left nothing behind.

I don't even know
what are you talking about.

Well, apparently your church kicked
your hypocritical ass out last year.

Something about you hitting on
young female parishioners.

Who- who told
you this, huh?

Hey, you can't get in there!

A tennis ball
for a gear shifter.

Huh.

Turn around, Isaac.
All right.

Forgive them, Lord, for they know
not what they do.

Yeah, well what we do know is that Judy Dowd
was left drunk and stumbling on Route 75.

And you, following
Monte's bus,pulled over to give her a ride.

Not a free one apparently.

No, no, that's a lie.
I never even saw her.

Oh, so this isn't
her blood here?

It's someone's blood.

How many of Monte's cast-offs
have you been with, Isaac?

Huh? Girl's too
drunk to know. Before you picked up Judy.

You went for it.
She rejected you.

Next thing you know she's
impaled on the shifter.

I may have picked her up,

but if I laid a hand,
it was to heal,

and to ask His
redemption upon her.

Man, you are shameless.

She was drunk.
She went crazy.

Pushed me away
and fell back.

It was an accident.

You know, the Devil's work.

No, not, that was the part where
you fed her to an alligator.

There should be a sense
of satisfaction after solving a case, but...

most of the time I just...

I feel drained.

Yeah, that's why you can
only do this job for so long.

Murders, death, corpses...

you do that your whole life...

There's gotta be more, you know?

The sausage and
pepper sandwich.

You gotta admit
it was good.

So what do you and Booth
usually do now?

Is there a bar you
go to? A restaurant?Pilates class?

There's a diner.

Booth says the pie is the best.

Can I buy you a slice?

Sure.

I guess we're not working
together anymore.

Yes.

And since we have no professional
obligations to each other, I can ask you out.

Theoretically.

Theoretically

Perhaps after a 24 hour
waiting period.

Why?

So the brain can adjust to alternate perceptions
of each other.

I don't actually need it.

My brain adjusts
quite quickly.

Oh, my good Lord.

How many bricks did
you use in the end?

Yep, you know, 180.

Right, so you can
go sign away.

What are those?

Oh, those are two beautiful
prime rib eye steaks.

All right, being the barbeque
master that I am,

I thought I'd show you
how to barbeque, doc.

Oh, I don't want
to be shown.

I want to learn
by trial and error.

No, no, no, doc.
Come on, listen,

it's better learn off
hamburger or sausages.

Those puppies cost
50 bucks a pop.

You know, according
to the FBI reports,

there was no way you
could save Epps' life.

Your partner's report
says the same thing.

An FBI sniper on the opposite roof
saw everything through his scope.

According to all witnesses,

you have nothing
to feel guilty about.

Yeah, so?

So why in a fit of pique did you endanger
innocent people in a public thoroughfare

by discharging your firearm?

I'm a good shot.

I didn't put anybody in danger.

How many people have you killed?

I lost count.

Oh, you can remember 180 bricks,

but not how many lives
you've taken?

Epps makes 50.

50 what?

50 kills.

But, Agent Booth,
you didn't kill Epps.

You tried to save him, remember?

Or perhaps I'd better
put it as a question?

Did Howard Epps slip
from your grasp

or did you release him?

Oh, come now, man, it's
a simple enough question.

Was he indeed
your 50th kill

or did you just happen
to be there when he died?

I...

I don't know.

A man like you in control
of every situation

and you don't know?

I don't know.

I had him and then
I lost him and...

something happened in between.

I don't know.

I believe you.

Because for a man
like you to admit

you don't know,
to relinquish control,

that could argue a disruption

in your self-view
that was large enough

to motivate you
to shoot a clown.

You know, I think we made
marvelous progress.

This is a place for which
we can certainly begin.

You know what?

I've changed my mind.

I would love you
to cook those steaks.

I can do that.

Medium rare please, Mr. G-Man.

I can do that.