"Booth"

*Trigger warning*

Chelsea had a bit of vacation time and the state of Louisiana needed her help. She decided to travel down there alone and help wherever she could, they had just gotten through a hurricane and bodies were appearing out of the water like fish. Temporary Morgue- ST, Gabriel, Louisiana. Dozens of people in blue scrubs are examining cadavers. The camera travels from one room to another with seemingly no end of dead bodies. Mike Doyle, an orderly, is wheeling a body from one room to another. DR. Graham Legiere, the medical examiner, joins him as he walks past. They continue their conversation as they walk.

Graham pats him on the back. " You look tired, Mike. Late night?"

"Oh, yeah. Late and nasty." Mike smirks.

"Same kinky creature?"

"Doc, the girl, Carrie's, a serious perv swerve." Mike pushes the body into an autopsy room. He stops in front of Chelsea who is writing up her notes in a chart on another body. She smiles listening to the conversation.

" Feeling wrong feels so good."

"It's..." He stops when he notices Chelsea listening. "Hey, sorry, Dr. Swan."

She smiles. " No, it's fine. Males often bond by exaggerating sexual conquests."

"Oh, Mike's not exaggerating. This girl is seriously turned on by coffins. Mike will take her into the cooler..."

" Doc!"

Zack's voice is heard coming from a computer sitting on a portable table behind Mike. "Some libidos are inflamed by a proximity to death."

" Who's that?" Mike asks as Chelsea refrains from chuckling.

"My assistant, Zack, back in D.C." Chelsea turns the rolling table around so the monitor screen with Zack is facing Mike.

"Congratulations on your coffin sex."

Graham tries not to laugh. " Mm-hmm."

Mike looks at Chelsea who is smiling. " I've got work to do." he exits in a hurry. Chelsea goes to the new body and puts on her gloves to get back to work.

"Some of the information you sent for analysis seems to have come from remains that have already been embalmed."

Chelsea begins examining the body. " Bodies were unearthed by the flooding."

" I could fly down there to help, Dr.Swan."

"A." Tomorrow is my last day. And "B." The sex on the coffin thing is not guaranteed." Zack just sighs hanging up Chelsea examines the decomposed skull of the body. Graham, who is on the other side of the examining table, walks around to the end of it as he talks.

"You know there are reasons they call this the Big Easy even after Hurricane Katrina." He tries to rest his hand on a tray with surgical instruments but knocks the tray off. Everything crashes to the floor. Chelsea looks up shocked by the noise and laughs a little. Dr. James Embry, assistant to the medical examiner, enters the room with a file pertaining to the body Chelsea has been looking at. He is followed by Detective Harding and a uniformed Police Officer.

"Dr. Swan , meet John Doe 361." James explains

"We found this one in the 9th Ward sticking out of the mud."

"Good afternoon, Detective Harding." Chelsea smiles at the woman but the Detective doesn't return the favor. She goes back to assessing the body. " Male. Forties."

"Badly decomposed. Looks pretty banged up." Embry hands the chart to Graham across the examining table.

"Yeah. Be nice to know if it was the hurricane, floor or foul play that killed him."

Graham glances at the chart. " Detective Harding, have you been into the cooler lately? Apparently some libidos are inflamed by the proximity to death." Chelsea and James shake their head in disbelief.

"God, Graham. Thinking about sex in this place should be illegal, if it ain't already." Detective Harding and the Police Officer leave. Embry is looking at the skull and sees something strange.

Chelsea talking to Sam outside the room. "Oh, Sam, I'm going to need X-rays on this one." Embry begins to leave the room and meets Sam Potter, an orderly, as he is entering.

"Looks like there's something lodged behind his teeth." Sam nods his head and comes into the room to take John Doe 361 for X-rays. Chelsea is covering the body with plastic as Graham talks to her.

"You've been working 48 hours straight. You need the evening off."

"I only have one vacation day left."

"What are you...doing penance for FEMA? Why don't you let me cook you dinner tonight?"

" I don't know." Chelsea is hesitant.

Graham pleading. " Come on." Sam is finishing wrapping up John Doe 361 with a sheet and almost ready to leave. "I'm a Southern gentleman, ma'am. Your honor will be respected."

Sam scoffs. "Yeah." Sam wheels John Doe 361 out of the room leaving Chelsea and Graham alone.

"Tell you what, Graham. We'll see what the X-rays tell us about this one. And then, maybe, we'll get a bite to eat."

Graham smiles " All right."

Chelsea's lying on the floor. She is unconscious with a pool of blood surrounding her head and dripping from her mouth. Her clothes and hands are covered in it. A blood soaked towel is on the floor next to her and there are blood smears all over the floor. Chelsea begins to come around, coughing and panting. She slowly sits up and tries to focus and understand where she is and what has happened. She seems to remember something. Chelsea still doesn't know what's happening. She attempts to get up. When she tries to lift herself by grabbing onto the vanity with her right hand, she groans in pain and slips back to the floor rubbing her hand. She tries again, this time using her forearm to lean on, and stands. She looks in the mirror and is stunned by her appearance. Chelsea is still examining her face in the mirror. She reaches for her ear as she notices her earring is missing. Chelsea weak and stumbling trying to leave the bathroom to answer the phone ringing in the next room. Chelsea picks up the phone and sits on the sofa.

"Dr. Swan , your airport shuttle is here."

Chelsea is groggy. "What? No. Um. My flight isn't until Thursday."

"Today is Thursday, Dr. Swan." Chelsea takes the phone away from her ear.

She mumbles to herself " What happened to Wednesday?"

" Dr. Swan? Hello? Are...are you there, Dr. Swan?"

Chelsea is being examined by a doctor. She has been cleaned up and is wearing a hospital gown.

"Looks like someone stole your earring. Ripped it right out of the lobe."

" I don't know what happened to me."

" It's a tough town. We don't have that many cops anymore and, uh.." Detective Harding enters the examination room without knocking, interrupting the Doctor. He turns and sees her and continues.

"They were never that good to begin with."

"You shouldn't insult the ones that stuck around." Harding smiles at the Doctor.

" Detective Harding, I didn't know who else to call." Detective Harding turns around and sees her pile of clothes on a table.

Detective Harding looks at the doctor. "I need blood samples on this clothing." She turns back to Chelsea. " Maybe we'll get lucky and they won't all come from you. Still hazy on the details?"

"I'm not hazy on the details. I...I don't remember anything."

"Nothing?"

"Um, Dr. Legiere knocking over a tray of instruments at the morgue. Then...mm...nothing."

"That was the day before yesterday."

" I requested a rape kit." Chelsea spoke up, her head was swirling, everything hurt, she had a bruise on her head, one on her cheek. A busted lip.

"No sign of sexual activity forced or otherwise." The door opens and Booth rushes in heading straight for Chelsea. A woman is behind him trying to stop him. He is too worried about Chelsea to be stopped.

"Sir, ,sir, you can't go in there."

Booth shrugged her off. "Cherry, you okay?"

" Booth, I told you not to come." she winces

"Who's this?" Detective Harding asks.

"He's FBI. We're sort of partners."

"Guy flies down from D.C.? You're more than "sort of." Booth brushes off Detective Harding's comment. He's anxious to see how Chelsea is.

"Yeah, that's great." Booth sasses to Harding, he turns his attention to Chelsea. " You remember anything?"

Chelsea sighs her speech is slurred. " The tray falling over."

"Why can't she remember anything?" Booth asks the doctor who is very intimidated by the large man.

"Well, it could be the head injury."

"Hairline stress fracture on my right distal radius, concussion, slight fever, torn earlobe, Low glucose. I lost one of my favorite earrings." She pulls the only earring left off of her ear and shows it to Booth. It's obvious he is distressed and concerned about Chelsea.

"You're worried about an earring? You should really be worried about losing a whole day."

"I know. It's stupid. But these earrings were my mother's." His face softens when she says that.

"Amnesia caused by any traumatic event, injury or drug, can erase memories before the event, not just after."

"Great, we'll just wait for a tox screen." Booth says.

"It's gonna be at least 24 hours."

Booth getting upset. " 24 hours?"

The doctor looks nervous. "Well, most of the labs in the area were destroyed by the hurricane."

"We'll find out what happened. You just take care of your...uh...partner." Harding mutters Booth is barely hanging on to his temper. He clenches his jaw and focuses on Chelsea. He reaches and with a bent finger under her chin forces her to look at him so he can look at her injuries.

Booth and Chelsea are in the car. Booth is driving and Chelsea is in the passenger seat. They talk

"You know, it'll come back to you Cherry."

"You don't know that. Head injuries are extremely unpredictable."

"I'm just being reassuring."

Chelsea's cell phone rings. She answers. "Chelsea"

" Regarding the X-rays of John Doe 361"

"John Doe 361?"

" Yes. You sent his X-rays." Zack continues.

" I don't remember that."

"You don't remember?" Zack seems perplexed

"What about the X-rays, Zack?"

"Late 40's. Mixed race. Anomalies on his spine which I'm looking into. But the point is, his death was not accidental."

" I sent you the X-rays of a murder victim?"

"How'd he die?" Booth is quick to ask.

Chelsea can already tell that Angela is perking up hearing Booth's voice and turns toward the speakerphone. "Is that Booth?" Angela asks.

" Yes."

" You're hopping the Streetcar Named Desire with Booth? Oh, I love this."

" Obviously, they're working the murder of John Doe 361 together." Zack replies.

Chelsea nods. "Precisely. How did 361 die?"

"The pelvis shows crush fractures. There's also what appears to be a bullet hole in the skull, but there's no exit wound."

"Okay, keep working on it." The sound of Chelsea hangs up phone

"You don't remember the case?"

"No. And it's a murder.'' She feels hunger pain. " Oh, I'm hungry."

"Well, when was the last time you ate?" Chelsea just stares at him not believing he asked that question. "Oh, my bad. You have amnesia."

Suddenly, Chelsea recalls something. "Booth, I think I know a place."

They find themselves at a place called Jambalaya Jones Chelsea and Booth are sitting at a two-top table in front of the window. Chelsea is looking at a menu and Booth is playing with a spice shaker as they talk. There are wall decorations next to the table.

" All right, so what is the last thing that you do remember?"

"I told you, Graham, Dr. Legiere, knocked over a tray of surgical instruments."

" I want to talk to Legiere."

" We must've been about to examine John Doe 361" Chelsea keeps her eyes trained on the menu

A man who appears to be the chef of the restaurant, Peter Lasalle, enters "Dr. Swan? I thought you were leaving today.

" Peter, this is my friend, Seeley Booth." Booth and Peter shake hands. Peter notices Chelsea's injuries

"My God. What happened to you?" he asks as Chelsea gulps.

"I'm not certain, but the bruising suggests Tuesday night."

"After you left here?"

" I was here Tuesday?" Chelsea furrows her brows.

" What time?"

" In at 8:00, left at 9:00. Don't you remember? You had dinner with Sam Potter."

Chelsea's looks dazed as she remembers these images.

"Cherry? Cherry?"

" We have to go back to the morgue. Talk to Sam". She gets up to leave the restaurant.

"Who's Sam?"

" He's an orderly. He...he practices voodoo." Chelsea is already out of the door when Booth gets up, gives a goodbye wave to Peter and follows.

Back at the Temporary Morgue they meet up with Sam " You invited me to dinner."

"Why?"

Booth, Sam and Chelsea are sitting on the balcony. Sam gives Chelsea a box with voodoo spell casting ingredients.

"You found this in the mouth of a John Doe." Chelsea takes the box and looks at the contents.

"Let me see that." Booth asks. Chelsea turns the box toward Booth who looks at the contents."That's voodoo?"

"It's a gris-gris bag. It's a mojo. This one is meant to silence the dead so they can't speak." Sam explains.

"Well, usually dead people are pretty much silent on their own." Booth mutters.

" Voodoo embraces the premise that spirits can speak to us from beyond the grave." Chelsea explains.

"Voodoo is all about the balance of the forces. That wind, the flood, this death it's all out of balance now. Katrina was Armageddon for the ones who love balance. Some think it was Secte Rouge that brought it on."

" What's that? Some kind of a gang?" Booth jokes as Chelsea feels the urge to roll her eyes.

"The ones who follow evil. Some believe that they purposely angered the sirens who sent the flood." Sam points to the box. "This...this is Secte Rouge."

" Okay, so that's literally bad voodoo." Booth says as Sam takes the box from Chelsea and gives Booth a closer look.

"It's black gum root. There's only one place you can find it. A voodoo shop on Pontchatrain Avenue run by Richard Benoit. He's a good man. Maybe he can help you." Sam closes the box and gives it to Booth.

"Okay, thanks". Chelsea and Booth get up and are leaving when Sam speaks.

"Dr.Swan, a lost day? Perhaps a spell was cast on you as well."

"No disrespect, Sam, but it's not my religion." Chelsea walks down the balcony steps and Booth remains behind looking at Sam with a confused look on his face. Chelsea stops and calls back to him. "Come on, Booth."

Booth and Chelsea are in his car now. "Voodoo. Who's going to believe that stuff?"

"It's a religion. No crazier than well, what are you?" Booth is driving and Chelsea is in the passenger seat.

Booth takes off his sunglasses. " Catholic."

" They believe in the same saints as you do, and pray. What they call spells, you call miracles. They have priests."

"We don't make zombies."

"Jesus rose from the dead after three days." Booth quickly turns his head toward her. He's shocked speechless for a moment but when he does recover, he's not happy. Chelsea's cell phone rings and she answers it " Chelsea."

Booth pointing to emphasize. " Jesus is not a zombie. All right? Man." puts sunglasses Back on. " I shouldn't have to tell you that." Chelsea stares at his outburst like he's nuts.

" On John Doe 361...there's a narrowing of the disk space on L2 and L3."

"Congenital?"

" Unclear. Extensive injuries consistent with a body being thrown around by a flood." Zack explains as Chelsea nods.

" Cross reference what you know so far with the DMORT records of missing Katrina victims."

" Hey, Chelsea? Why haven't you come home?"

"Pretty soon, Ange."

"Is Booth there socially?"

"No, of course, not."

"All right, what's going on?" Angela asks as Booth grabs the phone from Chelsea's ear and talks to

Angela.

"Okay, Cherry has amnesia because a...voodoo murder put a spell on her to keep her from solving the murder of John Doe 361." Chelsea tries to grab the phone back from Booth to clarify the story but he switches it to his other ear so she can't reach it.

" That's a huge supposition."

"That's fine if you don't want to tell me." Zack turns off the phone.

🦋

Booth and Chelsea enter the voodoo shop. " Whoa. What's that smell?"

" I imagine everything smells here."

Booth spots a picture of a Cadillac Brougham and is in love. He begins to bend down in front of it almost in worship. "Whoa. Please just tell me that that car survived Katrina." he whistles.

From behind a beaded room divider, Richard Benoit, the store owner, enters. "We used it to evacuate."

"Did you restore it yourself or did you use voodoo?"

" Ah " Richard laughs. "An unbeliever. What can I do for you?"

"You, uh... " He pulls the bag of ingredients obtained from John Doe 361's mouth from his pocket and puts it on the counter. "You know what that is?"

"This is a dark spell. Forbidden magic. Very strong. This is Secte Rouge. I certainly wouldn't make anything like this."

"But you have the ingredients here?" Booth asks.

"Well, the individual ingredients are not malignant. It is how they are combined and what intention they are used for that makes a spell good or bad."

" Do you recognize me?" Chelsea asks.

Richard shakes his head. "No. Should I?"

" Anyone else work here?"

"My daughter, Eva. What is this about?" Booth pulls out his FBI credentials and shows them to Benoit.

"We're conducting an investigation."

Richard yells toward the back room " Eva!" he turns back to Booth/ "What kind of investigation?"

"Is it true that this is the only place a person could buy black gum root?"

" Yes. Most places like this are all gone now. It's not a coincidence." Benoit turns around and picks up some black gum root and hands it to Booth and Chelsea who examine it. At the same time, a door is heard to open and Eva enters the shop from the back room.

"Yes, daddy?"

"Have you ever seen this lady before?" Chelsea looks up at her so Eva can see her face clearly.

"No, why?"

Chelsea holds up the black gum root to her. "We need to know who's bought this lately."

Eve turns to her father. "Don't they need a warrant?"

Richard laughs uncomfortably. "Eva will pull up what you need on the computer."Eva reluctantly moves to the computer to begin pulling records.

" What you said before, what did you mean just a coincidence?" Booth asks.

"Most places like this, where a houngan, a priest, can get what he needs, they are all gone now."

"Because of the hurricane and flood?" Chelsea says.

"Which occurred because of a lack of balance."

"Mr. Benoit, are you suggesting that Secte Rouge somehow conjured up a hurricane?" Chelsea says in disbelief.

"Secte Rouge voodoo is much more powerful than ours."

"No, Eva. Not more powerful. Destruction is easier than harmony but not more powerful." He turns to Booth and Chelsea. " There are a lot of misunderstandings about voodoo."

" Yeah. That whole zombie stuff puts a crimp in your public relations I bet." Booth lets out an uncomfortable laugh. Eva joins them all again with a list of buyers which she hands to Chelsea.

"These are the people who have bought black gum root in the past month." Chelsea reads the list and recognizes a name"Graham Legiere, the medical examiner."

Booth takes the list and reads it. They make the trip to Graham's house.

" I tried to get in touch with him."

" He was scheduled to be out in the field this week." Chelsea opens the door and enters followed by Booth. She calls for him as she enters. "Graham? It's Chelsea."

"What if he's not here?"

"Well, he's probably asleep. He's been working nights." Chelsea continues through the house. "Graham? Graham?"

Booth bends over her shoulder and tries to make a joke. "Cracker."

" Hey, that's not funny. I think he invited me to dinner that night or drinks. I can't remember."

"Mm-hmm. You know what? Maybe he "roofied" you."

" I'm sure he bought the black gum root to look into its medicinal qualities."

"Yeah, because we all know how effective that is."

"Voodoo healing is quite effective. No crazier than acupuncture or exorcism.'

"Hey, hey, easy on the Catholics. Okay? Just easy." Booth sees something. "Cherry?" He points into the next room where a blanket is tossed over a full-length mirror. Chelsea remembers something and looks toward the upstairs. "Here we go again."

Chelsea climbs the stairs. Booth calls after her and follows.

"Cherry!"

Chelsea is moving down the hall seemingly looking for something while flashes of memory bomb her. Chelsea is still moving down the hallway and she sees a door slightly ajar

"You okay?"

"Something bad happened here." Chelsea is still staring at the door. She appears paralyzed. Booth is now behind her in the hallway. " And I got away." Booth moves forward toward the door. Chelsea stands still and then follows him.

Booth's hand slowly opened the door. Booth and Chelsea enter the room. The mirror on the wall shows the reflection of Graham Legiere's body crucified on the opposite wall. Booth and Chelsea turn toward the wall and see him. Graham is staked to the wall by his wrists. It looks like he is disemboweled and a large knife or possibly another stake is stuck in his chest. There is blood dripping down the wall and pooled on the floor. There is a mojo bag hanging around his neck. Booth and Chelsea staring in disbelief.

"Oh, yeah. Something bad."

The police have arrived and the police photographer is flashing pictures of the body and crime scene. There are flash cuts to various aspects of the scene including all the stakes and the body being zipped up in the body bag. Sirens can be heard outside. Detective Harding, with her notebook in hand, exits the room. Booth and Chelsea are waiting down the hall near the top of the stairs. Detective Harding approaches them.

" What exactly were you doing here?"

" It's Graham, isn't it?" Chelsea seems mortified.

"Tell you what, Dr. Swan, I'm going to ask the questions."

"Oh, come on, Detective. She was working with the guy." Booth says as the detective purses her lips

" How closely?" she asks as Chelsea wants to hit her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

" Answer my question, please. What brought you here? Was it a social call? Business? Revenge killing?"

"Look, Legiere bought some black gum root from the voodoo store. We just stopped by to ask why."

"Why?"

"That's what we came here to ask." Chelsea replies

"You wanna look behind me and remind yourselves why I'm a little low on sense of humor."

" Wuh, that wasn't a joke."

Booth shakes his head. " Oh, no, she's not wisecracking. She just tends to be a bit literal". While Chelsea is talking to Harding, Booth looks on the floor and sees Chelsea's lost earring by the leg of a hall table. He doesn't say anything to either Chelsea or Harding that he's seen it.

"Day before yesterday, I showed a voodoo expert a mojo that Graham found lodged in the mouth of John Doe 361." Chelsea explains.

"This, uh, voodoo consultation, did it occur before or after amnesia."

"Look, the amnesia's real." Booth says.

"Graham purchased a rare ingredient at a voodoo shop on Pontchartrain Ave."

A Policewoman enters the hall from the bedroom and comes up behind Detective Harding while she speaks. She has something in her hand.

"So Graham made voodoo spells, shoved them into corpses' mouths, then pretended to be surprised when he found them?"

Booth sees the policewoman and what she has in her hands. "What's that?"

"Ma'am?" Harding turns her back to Booth and Chelsea to examine the Policewoman as brought. Chelsea moves closer to get a better look leaving Booth alone and unnoticed. He bends down while they're talking, picks up Chelsea's earring and puts it in his pocket.

" Split cast, huh? More voodoo. Just like the symbol on the wall? Bag it as evidence."

"Secte Rouge?"

Harding turns back to Chelsea. Booth, with the earring safely in his pocket, steps forward and joins them. D

"What do you know about Secte Rouge? "

"If you're done with us, Detective, we're going to go." He takes Chelsea's arm and begins to drag her toward the stairs. Harding's words stop them.

"I'm gonna tear this place apart. If I find one piece of evidence that ties you to this scene, I will take you into custody. "

"Wait, do you really think that someone could go into a trance, commit a murder like that, and not remember it?"

"No, I don't. But I sure as hell think someone can fake amnesia." Detective Harding gives Chelsea a look with pursed lips.

"That's great. Thank you, Detective."

🦋

Assistant medical examiner, Dr. James Embry, has several charts that he hands to Chelsea."These files are everything you and Graham worked on the day before yesterday."

"James, meet Agent Seeley Booth. Dr. Embry is Graham's second in command."

"Condolences on your sudden promotion." Booth says.

"Um, why do you think the job had anything to do with Graham being killed?" James asks, arms folded over his chest.

" Cherry has voodoo amnesia, Legiere is voodoo dead, and the last thing they worked on together was a voodoo ritual murder. So, I'm...I'm thinking there might be some kind of a connection."

"Legiere's body. Is it, uh, as bad as they say?"

Chelsea looks up from the files. " How bad are they saying it is?'

"No matter how bad they're saying it is, it's worse."

Jame gulps thickly. "I just want to mentally prepare myself. Um, I start his autopsy in a few minutes."

"The file I need is John Doe 361"

"According to records, these are the only cases you worked on the day before yesterday. Four sets of remains, two were easy I.D.s, drowned victims, processed and booted for burial. The other two were both males, John Does 349 and 350."

" I sent 361's X-rays to the Jeffersonian."

" Well, I'll check again." Embry leaves. Chelsea glances through a file she's holding while Booth watches as they wait for Embry to return.

"Can I make a lifestyle suggestion?"

"Go ahead."

"You know, vacation. It's from the Latin, "vacatio." It means, you know, "freedom" or "release." You might want to consider that next time."

Chelsea smirks " Learning Latin?"

"This is the opposite of vacation. No wonder you snapped, went insane and totally lost your mind. "

"Oh, thanks for your understanding." Chelsea rolls her eyes.

Embry enters "Uh, Dr. Swan. There's no John Doe 361."

"Then whose X-rays did I send to D.C.?"

" No, I mean the file is gone." Chelsea and Booth stare at each other, not fully surprised that this is happening.

There are lots of bodies in body bags on tables. Sam Potter is in the room chanting over the bodies. He has a snake around his neck and moves from body to body saying his prayer. Chelsea, followed by Booth and James, enter the room through a plastic curtain partition. She hands Booth her phone set on speakerphone.

"Ugh, okay, hold that."

"Zack Addy."

"Zack, it's me. Anything else on John Doe 361?"

"Yes, Dr. Swan . We found some damage to the pubic bone. Some kind of strike marks"

Chelsea is checking the tags on all the bodies looking for John Doe 361. "Did you get Angela to reconstruct the pattern?"

"Yeah. Hi, sweetie. I'm here. Uh, I tried to make a digital positive, but it didn't work"

"Voodoo probably." Booth mutters as Chelsea rolls her eyes,

" The extrapolation protocols can't resolve the gradient fluxes in the bone shadings."

"What's that?" James asks.

"That's mumbo jumbo. It's scientific voodoo." Booth retorts as Chelsea continues looking at the tags.

" Can you do it manually?"

" Mm, not really."

" Can't you send the actual remains?" Zack asks as Chelsea sighs.

"They don't exist."

"That makes no sense."

"Voodoo. It's probably voodoo." Chelsea smacks him in the arm.

" Voodoo?"

"Okay, quit saying voodoo." Chelsea warns Booth who shrugs.

"Yeah, because, you know, it's not a factor."

"Okay, let me know what you find. Bye." Booth switches off the phone while he watches Sam perform his prayer ritual. Sam's chanting is louder.

"How do we know this is not the guy shoving mojo bags into dead people?"

"Those spells are the work of a sorcerer. Priest houngans can make healing mojos, but I'm not allowed." Sam explains

"But snake shaking, that's fine? Chelsea looks at the snake and touches it."

"The snake pulls the evil out of the soul freeing the spirit, the loua. I must do what small things I can. The floods washed away too much of what was good."

Booth sees Chelsea handling the snake."Hey, Cherry, how's about while you're a murder suspect, you, uh, act more like a normal woman and less like Lily Munster, okay?" He pulls Chelsea away from handling the snake. " Goodbye. Good snake. Bye-bye. That's it." Now that he's gotten her away from the snake, they head for the exit. " Now, call me crazy, but I'm suspicious of snake man."

"Ugh, that's because you've been inculcated by the mainstream culture's prevailing Judeo-Christian tradition into instinctive skepticism of alternative mores."

"Yeah. Thanks for that explanation."

🦋

"So, do you remember anything else that could help us out?" Booth and Chelsea are in her suite. It's late at night now.

"It could have been me." Chelsea shakes her head, eyes watery.

" Do you remember that?"

" Look at it objectively. Graham Legiere was killed between 11:00 p.m. Tuesday and 3:00 a.m. Wednesday. Not only do I not have an alibi, I...I can't even explain to myself where I was. It could've been me."

Booth chuckles. "No, it couldn't."

"Yes. Wha...how do you know?"

"I just know, okay? I'd bet my professional career on it. I already did."

" What?"

" Nothing."

Chelsea gives him a stern look. "What did you do?"

"Cherry! Stop. This is the last time and place that you want to be rational, okay? Let's just be wildly emotional and assume that you didn't psychotically murder a coworker who invited you over for dinner." Booth sees something on Chelsea's bed pillow. "What's that?"

" What?"

Booth pointing. " That." Chelsea gets up and moves to the pillow picking up whatever it is.

"Ew."

" Is it another voodoo dumpling?" It's another mojo bag. She opens it up, picking through the contents.

"It's some kind of flesh. And these are seashells. And leather, I think."

"Is that a human tooth? "

"Yes. A canine." The door bursts open and Detective Harding rushes in with her gun drawn, several other policemen behind her also with guns. Booth turns to face her pulling his own weapon out.

"Put down your weapon, Agent Booth." They face each other, guns pointing at each other.

"Put down your weapon. There's no threat from us."

" You're holding a gun on me."

" Yeah, well, you know, my finger here" he waves. " is not on the trigger. It's the best I can do under the circumstances."

Harding reluctantly puts her gun away/ " Holster your weapons." The other policemen put their weapon away and so does Booth. " I'm here to arrest Dr. Swan for the murder of Graham Legiere."

" Whoa, that's not gonna happen."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is."

Chelsea just shrugs. " I told you, Booth."

" Cherry, please! Just once in your life will you be quiet?"

Detective Harding nods. " That's good advice because everything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law." she nods to the bag. "What is that?"

" I...I found it on my pillow. " Chelsea hands the mojo bag to Harding.

"Cherry!" he groans in frustration.

Detective Harding nods. "Thank you, Dr. Swan." Harding drops the mojo bag into a plastic evidence bag.

"What's the probable cause?"

" Traces of Dr. Swan 's blood in Legiere's home, Legiere's blood on her clothing from the clinic."

"Is that it?"

"All I'm prepared to share with the federal government. Now, please. Step away from my collar."

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen." Chelsea steps around Booth and offers herself up to Harding.

"Cherry! Geez!" he slaps himself on the forehead.

"It's better if nobody else dies while we get to the bottom of this." Harding puts the handcuffs on Chelsea.

"Well, you know what, I wasn't planning on dying."

Chelsea being handcuffed " Ow. It's not you I worry about. Ow. You're welcome to the room. It's paid for." Harding shoves Chelsea out of the room. Everyone but Booth follows. Booth sighs, turns in a circle and then stops. He reaches in his pocket, pulls out her earring, looks at it, tosses it in the air and catches it. He looks up, seemingly to God, appearing to ask what to do next.

🍒

Harding is interrogating Chelsea. "Were you sleeping with Graham Legiere?"

"I don't...I don't think so."

"You don't think so?"

"I don't remember sleeping with him. And at the clinic they said there was no sign of sexual activity."

They are interrupted when CarolyN Julian and Booth enter the office. "I hope you've kept your mouth shut."

"Hey, Chelsea Swan , Carolyn Julian. She's your lawyer." They shake hands. "She's from the U.S. Attorney's Office. She's the best there is."

"You found a prosecutor to defend her? Interesting tactic."

"I've told Detective Harding everything I know so far."

"She's a fool. You didn't tell me she's a fool." Caroyln sasses as Chelsea winces.

"Look, she's a brilliant forensic anthropologist."

"Well, I have three degrees. I've pioneered research in..."

" What's that?" points at evidence on desk.

" A gris-gris bag. I found it in my hotel..." Harding stops her from touching it. " room and... I'm assuming the person who left it there is trying to frame me so the tooth is probably Graham's."

"Three degrees and still a fool." Carylon turns to Harding. " This interview is over, Rose. I need to speak with my client alone before she gives herself a lethal injection"

"Of course. Of course. It's nice seeing you again, Carolyn."

Harding exits and Booth starts in on Chelsea. " Okay, Cherry, what the hell were you talking to her for?"

" I was just trying to help."

"You sew those lips together, girl, because there is no such thing as "help" in the New Orleans Police. They just want to close the case as quickly and easily as they can. And you are making it Christmas time for them."

"Okay, listen, there's no way that Cherry could've killed Legiere. I mean sh...it's...it's just not her. I mean look at her."

Chelsea makes a face.

" I am doing you a favor taking this case, Booth. But as the lady cop says, I'm a prosecutor. And as it stands now, I could try this case in my p.j.'s and still get a conviction."

"Well, shouldn't you get to know your clients before you make snap judgments."

"Cherry!"

" Fine. Stop me when I get something wrong. Trained in three types of martial arts, two assault charges, registered marksman with the N.R.A., hunting licenses in four states.."

"You hunt?" Booth asks

"Well, only for food."

"Shot an unarmed man."

Chelsea shrugs. " Well, he was trying to set me on fire."

"All right, just...just arrange bail for us, Carolyn, so we can get out of here."

"Sure. Sure. Don't want to get this one mad at me." Carolyn exits and Booth, once again, starts in on Chelsea.

"You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you?" Booth says as her glucose meter beeps.

"I haven't had anything to eat for a few days. I need to eat or I might actually pass out." Chelsea was already slurring her words.

"Yeah, let's get you out of here and get you orange juice or something." Booth helps her stand up.

Booth, Sam, and Chelsea are seated at a table near the front door. They wre at Jambalaya Jones again.

"What, a human tooth?"

"Yeah, it was some kind of...uh...some flesh, some...some fabric. It looked like...uh...some kind of shell." Booth explains.

"It sounds like...to make you forget."

"Somebody doesn't want you to know what happened to John Doe 361." Booth says.

"Booth, I'm not under a spell." Chelsea rolls her eyes.

"Well, you forgot a whole day."

"The spirits don't need you to believe in them, Dr. Swan.They believe in you. See you back at work, huh?" Sam gets up and leaves. A waiter brings some food. Both of them start eating.

" How'd I get away? You know, Graham got killed. I got away. How'd I do that?"

"You know, Cherry, all those things that Carolyn mentioned, you know, the...the martial arts, the sh**ting, the...uh...the assault... It's just...you're the type of woman that fights. Maybe they didn't expect it. Maybe they thought some kind of magic could hold you."

" I don't believe in magic."

"Exactly. You're a surprising woman. Sometimes that's enough for getting away."Chelsea smiles at him and gives a small laugh. He smiles back.

"Why are you nice to me?"

"Because. Because they think they get away with it."

"What?"

" They burn their victim, they blow 'em up, they toss 'em in the ocean, they bury them in the desert, they...they throw 'em to wood chippers. Sometimes, you know, years go by. They relax. And they start living their lives like they didn't do anything wrong. Like they didn't spend somebody else's life in order to get what they got. They think they're safe from retribution. But, you make those bastards unsafe. That's why I'm nice to you."

' I couldn't do that without you, Booth."

" Yeah. So...uh, you should be a little nicer to me, huh?" He smiles charmingly at her. She smiles back. He laughs a little.

"I really should."

"Yeah." He replies/.,

Carolyn standing by the table. She turns and orders from some off screen "Beignet and a café."She sits in the seat Sam vacated earlier. "Hospital records. The tox screen was negative."

" What? That's impossible."

" No Rohypnol? No ketamine?"

Carolyn shakes her head. " Nothing but a touch of alcohol. Not enough to affect a baby. A jury is never going to believe this amnesia story."

Booth groans. " Well, but it's true."

"Maybe this is true, too. Legiere tried to rape you. He was a notorious horn dog. We claim self-defense, cop a plea. You're out in three years."

Booth shakes his head. "Nah, I don't care what it looks like or how you're reading the evidence, Carolyn. She didn't do it." Chelsea looks touched and grateful for his trust.

"Could be that's true, Seeley. You vouch for her, that's good enough for me. But, chéri, this looks bad. All you've got on your side is proof you got roughed up. These pictures from the clinic, these X-rays." Carolyn has passed a folder with X-rays in them to Chelsea and she studies them.

Its an X-ray of her broken wrist. "My wrist. The doctor was wrong. He said this was a Colles fracture from a fall. This break shows surface trauma on the outside of the bone. This was either defensive or someone slammed my wrist into something."

"Maybe because you tried to stab him in the heart with a knife?"

Chelsea shakes her head. "No, think about it. If I'd already stabbed the attacker, he wouldn't have been able to break my wrist. "

" I like this story. What else? "

"Well, there's the mojo bag. I mean someone was trying to put a forgetting spell on her."

"Booth."

" Hey, I can work with that. This is New Orleans, baby. And where is my beignet?" Carolyn ask as Chelsea's phone rings

"Chelsea."

"John Doe 361 is named Rene Mouton."

"How can you be sure?"

" I looked for something that wasn't there, which turned out to be a shunt channel." Zack continues

" Good work." Chelsea smiles with a nod.

"You understood that?" Angela's voice is heard.

"All Zack had to do was cross-check with DMORT."

"I only thought of it because of Hodgins."

" I can discern particulates on the X-ray, but I have no way of telling what they are." Hodgins speaks up.

"Some kind of dirt?"

Hodgins sighs. "Okay, everybody, the word "dirt" means nothing here in the lab scientifically."

"Any progress on the design that was pressed into the pelvic bone?"

"I've tried three different computer programs I fed in the information into multiple impact scenarios, but this isn't gonna work on X-rays. I need the actual remains. "

"Booth and I are looking for them as hard as we can."

" Or, better still, you can forget the whole thing and come home."

Chelsea sips her drink " Don't worry. I made bail."

"Bail?"

" Bail? For what?" Angela asks, voice laced with concern.

"I told you. Don't worry. The...the murder charge won't stick."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. murder charge?" Hodgins speaks up this time he was concerned too.

"Chelsea, the next plane. Okay? The next plane or I'm coming down there to get you myself."

"Everything's fine, I'm healing up satisfactorily. Bye for now." She hangs up.

🍒

Booth and Chelsea walk through a large room filled with corpses on tables. Workers are checking bodies against charts, looking at X-rays, generally going about the business of identifying bodies.

"According to Bureau files, Rene Mouton headed up a small voodoo church. By all accounts, he...he was a very good man. Now, he rescued scores of people during Katrina. Then he just disappeared. Some thought he was just swept away when the levee broke."

"Why would anyone murder him?"

"Ya know, the chaos during the evacuation. Could even have been for a bottle of water." Sam Potter enters the scene and interrupts them.

"Or because he was a priest. The gris-gris box, the murder of Dr. Legiere, your amnesia, this is the work of a bokor, a Secte Rouge sorcerer. Rene Mouton was a houngan. A powerful and well-loved priest. For Secte Rouge to claim his soul, this would give them influence on all the people that he influenced."

"Like a chain letter."

"Or in the real world, somebody wanted his shoes."

Chelsea shakes her head, " No, Booth, it makes sense."

"What does?"

" Graham and I were on the trail of a broker."

"Bokor." Sam corrects.

" And he found out, or Secte Rouge did."

" All right, great. Then we just toss the ring into the molten river and blah-blah, right? Look, in the meantime, somebody here had the ability to hide Mouton's body and files"

"James Embry. "

"Me."

'Mike Doyle." Chelsea says/

"Say you wanted to hide a particular body and you didn't want anyone to find out, where would you put it?"

Booth, Chelsea and Sam are looking in cardboard boxes which have bodies in them already identified and waiting to be buried.

"If I wanted to hide a body, I'd change the name tag on the coffin."

Chelsea looking at a body. " Not Mouton. Too young. "

"Yeah, it's buried and the evidence is gone forever. "

Chelsea inside another box. "Argh, female." shuts box lid. " You know, I find it hard to believe that horny little Mike Doyle is a voodoo sorcerer." Sam opens another box and there is fresh body inside with another Katrina victim's body.

" Me, too."

Chelsea: looking at the body " Speak of the devil. Mike Doyle. And he's not alone." She picks up the remains of the Katrina victim's hand and examines it.

Booth, Chelsea, Sam, James Embry, Detective Harding and a few other workers are there with Mike Doyle's body and the unknown Katrina victims found with him. Booth and Chelsea whisper to each other to the side while others work.

"You said to avoid the police."

" Not cooperating is one thing, Cherry, okay? Concealing a double homicide? Well, we might as well give them an excuse to hang us." Harding and Embry come up and join them.

"Dr. Embry says that you can identify the bag of remains."

"The skeletal remains belong to a man named Rene Mouton. His skull is missing."

"Looks to me like Mike Doyle was drugged, a spike was driven through his head during or immediately following sexual intercourse."

'Well, it appears that Dr. Swan , Dr. Embry and Sam Potter here are the three people who could've pulled this off."

"Well, Sam Potter brought us to the body. We called you in. Who's that leave?" Harding turns to look at Embry.

James rolls his eyes. "Oh, please. There's no security in this place. Anyone could've gotten in here."

"You said that Mike was having sex when he died. James, he must've been killed by the coffin girl."

" What?"

"What's her name?" Booth asks as James shrugs.

"Well, I never got her name."

"Is there a mojo in Doyle's mouth?" Chelsea asks.

"I don't feel comfortable releasing that..."

Chelsea rolls her eyes. " The girl is a voodoo sorcerer. She works for Secte Rouge."

"Detective Harding, I know this is - you know - sounds superstitious, but..."

"Three ritual murders and a world-renowned anthropologist who can't remember how she ended up smeared with the blood of a skinned man crucified to a wall with spikes. Call me superstitious."There is an uncomfortable pause when Sam interrupts from his place next to Mouton's body.

"Excuse me. May I scatter fwan guinea over Mr. Mouton? To purify his remains?"

"No! No more of this voodoo crap! I don't want you contaminating the body."

Chelsea leans forward to talk with Sam. " What is it?"

"Ashes from a ritual fire pit. Ashes from a dove's feather, salt mixed with holy water..."

"Okay, okay, ya know, we get the idea and..."

"It should have no effect on the bones,Detective Harding." Harding looks back and forth between Chelsea and Sam like they're crazy. Finally, she relents.

"Fine. Fine. Go ahead." Sam holds the pot up toward the sky and begins a voodoo chant. At the appropriate time, he stops, opens the pot and pours some ashes on the body. There is a reaction from the ashes and a design begins to be revealed on the ribcage.

"Whoa! Did you see that?"

'Very interesting phenomenon. The electrostatic charge of the particles reacted with the bone. Angela was unable to recreate that pattern from the X-rays using the best technology in the world."

Booth paces, thinking. He finally figures out where he knows that pattern from. "Electrostatic, my ass. That was part of an emblem of a 1959 Caddy Brougham. Oh, boy."

"What?" Detective Harding walks over.

"The voodoo shop guy owns a 1959 Cadillac."

'"He's got a voodoo daughter."

🦋

Booth, Chelsea and Detective Harding are in the shop as well.

"You're taking my caddy? Why?"

" Why? Because we have reason to believe that your Caddy was used in the wrongful death of Rene Mouton."

"You think that someone did a hit-and-run on Rene Mouton in my Caddy?"

"Yes!" Chelsea sasses.

"Mr. Benoit, does your daughter have a boyfriend?"

" Yeah." Booth whistles and gestures for Detective Harding to show him a picture.

She hands it to Richard Benoit. "This him?"

Benoit takes the picture and we see that it's a picture of Mike Doyle."Mike Doyle. Yeah. Why?"

" We need to speak to your daughter." Detective Harding clears her throat, interrupting Booth.

" By which I mean Detective Harding needs to speak to your daughter."

"I don't know where she is. "

"Mr. Benoit, right now she's a suspect in the murder of Mike Doyle."

Richard Benoit seems confused and scared. "Why would Eva kill her boyfriend?"

"It's hard to explain"

"She was involved in a hit-and-run. When the body surfaced at the morgue, she asked her boyfriend to help her hide it. He refused, so she killed him. Also, she's a member of Secte Rouge."

Richard shakes his head. " No, no."

" I bet there are drugs in this shop that could knock me out, make me forget." Booth, Chelsea and Harding stare at Benoit and each other as he processes this information. He exhales and finally decides he will cooperate

" Eva is downstairs praying."

Benoit leads them toward the door to the basement. The group comes down the stairs and stops outside a door to the basement room. "Eva? Eva, open the door." There's no answer. Detective Harding puts her ear against the door, then turns the knob and enters. Booth enters after her.

Benoit sees something.

"No. Eva. No!" He races into the room. Benoit runs toward his daughter, Eva, who is impaled through her chest on a long spike protruding from the wall."Eva! Eva!" He slowly pulls her off the stake and lowers her to the floor. "Oh, no. No."

Chelsea walks past them to study the altar that is set up at the end of the room. She calls Booth. "Booth?" He goes to where she is and sees what she's looking at. There is a skull on the altar.

"Could that be Mouton's skull?"

"Yes. And this" she picks up a spike. "could be the spike she used on Mouton and Mike Doyle."

Some time has passed because Sam Potter and James Embry have shown up. Eva is now on a gurney.

"This is the lair of a bokor, someone who can call the dark spirits." points at a spike in the wall. " This is used for animal sacrifice."

" It was heated to red hot first to cauterize the wound so it wouldn't bleed." Chelsea explains

"What, she killed herself because she knew we were coming?"

Richard shakes his head. " No, no. Not...not my Eva."

" She drove the spike through her sternum?" Chelsea crosses to the body and examines it.

" Sternum, heart, through the chest cavity, through the spine."

Sam at the altar " Can I open this?"

" Why?"

There are containers on the altar. He points to a few. "This one holds the soul of Mr. Rene Mouton. I believe this one holds the soul of the bokor."

"Why don't you just shut up?" Richard snaps.

" I would like to release Mr. Mouton's soul so no other bokor can use it."

" No. It's evidence. Don't touch it. "

"I raised my Eva to be a houngan, a healer. How could this happen right underneath my nose?"

" Rebellious adolescent? Do you remember how much of the spike was protruding from her back when we first came in?"

" Six, eight inches."

" Would the fact that the spike was red hot cause it to go through the body more easily?"

" No, it might even make it harder." James explains

Chelsea thinks for a moment. " Eva Benoit did not commit suicide."

Detective Harding furrows her brows. "Based on what?"

"This room isn't even 12 feet wide. Even if she ran at full speed and her aim was perfect, no way the spike would go through her spine unless she was pushed onto it."

Sam stares at Richard Benoit and gets closer to him."He is the sorcerer. He believes he can bring her back to life."

"Okay. Everyone just simmer down. Okay, you're saying that he murdered his daughter thinking that he could bring her back to life?"

" You find her dead, you stop looking for Mouton's murder." Sam explains

" An inch or two to the left or right, we would never have known it was murder. Had to have been hard pushing her onto the spike, especially if she were resisting. You'd have some wounds of your own." Chelsea grabs Benoit's shirt and tugs. Buttons fly off and his torso is exposed revealing a bandaged wound. Chelsea steps back. "There's your killer" Chelsea turns to Booth. "I'd really like to go home now."

'Yeah, me, too. All right, my advice? Cuff Mr. Wizard here before he puts a spell on you."

"What? No written confession?"

" You want a confession? Threaten to release his daughter's soul. He'll tell you everything.
Harding cuffs Benoit as Booth and Chelsea begin to leave. Benoit calls her and they turn back.

"Dr. Chelsea Swan, you leave here, you go home, it does not matter. There are powers, dark powers to whom distance makes no difference."

" Easy, buddy."

Richard starts chanting a spell. " Agua, aqua..."

"Hey, hey, hey!"

Benoit keeps chanting and finishes by blowing out a long breath of air toward Chelsea. Chelsea reaches forward and using two fingers, pokes his eyes. Benoit screams in pain.

"I've noticed that very few people are scary once they've been poked in the eye." Harding laughs.

"Yeah." Booth mimics the eye poke, whistles and then they leave.

🍒

"I got in the middle of a battle between two religious sects"

Chelsea, Booth, Hodgins, Angela, and Zack are seated in her office." Benoit used Hurricane Katrina as a diversion to take the soul of a voodoo priest."

" And he killed his own daughter."

" Dark sorcerers suck, man." Hodgins shakes his head.

" Oh, but, you know, he intended to bring her back to life."

" There's not really any such thing as spells and magic." Zack says

"What are you talking about? He put a forgetting hex on Dr. Swan"

"But it wasn't the spell that made me forget. It was the drugs. Rohypnol."

"Blood test didn't find any."

"Gamma hydroxybutyrate?"

Booth shakes his head. " Not a trace."

"Sodium pentothal?"

"Nope."

"Severe emotional trauma." She suggest.

"Honey, even I think you're too strong-minded for that."

" There were too many delays in doing my blood test. That, plus the adrenaline of my escape. The drugs were out of my system."

Hodgins chuckles. "They put the voodoo on you, baby." Booth crosses his arms in some kind of voodoo sign and hisses. "I didn't really mean to call you "baby."

"You guys, stop, now. I mean it."

"Do you believe in voodoo? Because even if a small part of you believes in it, then it has a grip.'

"I do not believe."

Booth leans in. " Maybe just a little?"

Chelsea shakes her head. "No."

"Good. Because, you know, if you have any doubts, we'll just have Benoit send you back one of those little satanic mojo pouches from prison."

"Booth, objects have no intrinsic power. A person's future does not depend on some...thing. Things are just things. They do not have magical meaning or powers." Booth is leaning back in his chair, head resting on his hand, listening. He opens his hand and lets the earring that he picked up in Legiere's house dangle for her to see. Chelsea stares at it a moment. "Where'd you get that?"

" What does it matter? It's just a thing, right?" He gives her the earring.

"My mothers' earring." Booth gets up and begins to leave.

"No, uh, magical power over your future." Smiling at her, he exits the office.

"Does that prove something?" Chelsea stares at the earring and finally puts the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Yeah. It proves something." She looks at the earring and smiles.

Bones 1x19: The Man in The Morgue

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