Wow. I guess there's life on this campus after all.
Oh, what, you've been here before? I guest-lectured last year.
Forensic science majors.
Four students showed up. Just four! Four? What was your topic?
Dimorphic distinctions within the human thoracic cavity.
Right. And just four whole people showed up, huh?
The dean blamed it on some game halfway across the country. Come on.
This is Atlantic State University, home of the Jaguars.
Other than sex and beer, nothin' is more important to these kids than their basketball team.
What about academics? I'll tell you what.
You bring your little "didactic" thoracic speech here...
any other time of the year, and you'll draw maybe five, five and a half easy.
Dimorphic, not didactic.
Student employee named Justine Berry opened up the practice gym.
Campus police called us because they didn't know what to make of what they found.
Hey, I got it. F.B.I. Special Agent Seeley Booth.
That here is, uh... That's Dr. Brennan.
Chief Jack Cutler, campus police.
Justine was opening up the gym after the four-day weekend.
Uh, you work here, Ms. Berry? What the hell? You know what I mean?
- Not at all. - The second I unlocked the door, the smell just...
Right?
The bleachers fold down. You need a key to open or shut 'em.
Whatever got caught back here sure as hell ain't an animal.
Oh, it.
Sounds interesting.
Oh.
Hey, uh, you know, last time I was under the bleachers...
I was, uh, gettin' ready to smoke a cigarette and make out with Vanessa Taylor.
I didn't know you smoked. Eighth grade, Bones, huh?
Come on. Didn't you ever get naughty with a jock under the bleachers?
I... You were a jock?
You had to be one if you wanted to make out with Vanessa Taylor.
- What is it? - Male.
- You smell that? - You're kidding.
I don't mean decomp. Alcohol.
Vagrant passes out by the heating grate, and somebody closes up the bleachers.
Whoa!
That would account for the accelerated decomp.
And the babies. Baby rats?
- Yeah. We'll need them. - Okay, um...
Yeah, uh, Chief Cutler, you got a rat carrier?
- Yeah, I'll find something. - We'll need the floor.
- The floor? - Whatever got pushed through that grate.
- Here you go. This do? - Yeah, that'd be great. Put that rat in the rat motel.
- We're good to go. - We need to take the pinkies, or they'll die.
Yeah, 'cause the world needs more rats. "'82 champs"?
'82 champs... Let me see that ring.
Wait a minute. Chief Cutler as in Jack "Cutter" Cutler?
- Yeah. Haven't heard that one in a while. - Bones!
You're lookin' at the star point guard from one of the best college basketball teams ever!
Huh.
- Drafted by the Detroit Pistons. - Knees blew out.
- Ended my career. - Booth.
Yeah? Eleven?
Oh, my God, no.
- What? - Did he wear one of these?
He never took it off. Who?
R.J. Manning. He's one of the best college forwards in the conference.
- He was destined to be the number one pick. - I don't know what that means.
But if this is Manning, that's not going to happen.
Eight seconds for the bleachers to close.
According to the chief of campus police.
I don't think the victim was killed by the bleachers.
What do you mean? The dude's an accordion.
What killed him if it wasn't the bleachers closing?
The skull shows evidence of powdering. Crushing would snap the bone.
Multiple strikes lead to powdering.
But it is possible that the skull being forced through the grate caused the powdering.
We'll know more after the skull's reconstructed.
Man, the Jaguars will not be the same without R.J. Manning.
Thirty-plus points in his last five games. Forty-plus in the last three.
Not you guys too?
Hey, R.J. Manning was gonna be the next Kobe Bryant.
That explains why every news source in town wants to confirm his death.
The ancient Greeks chased a ball made of animal skin wrapped around seeds.
But that was a fertility rite played in the nude.
- Nude? Count me in. - I tend to look better fully clothed.
Both central and lateral maxillary incisors are implants.
That's a match.
- It's Manning. - I'll inform the press.
Zack, your priority is to classify the skull fractures.
Dude... you're not goin' home for days.
The victim's clothing and the chunk of floor should keep you pretty busy too, Dr. Hodgins.
Sure it's R.J., not just somebody wearing his medallion?
We matched your brother's dental records.
That means it's definitely R.J., Kamaria. Are you R.J.'s lawyer?
No. Well, you could probably say that.
I'm... I'm, uh, an alumnus of Atlantic State.
What I do now is I volunteer my time to help the team with their finances...
and their scholarships, living arrangements... Did you all live together?
No, R.J. lived on campus,
but he still takes care of me and my little sister.
Their parents passed away two years ago.
We lived on R.J.'s scholarship, and Mr. Francis got me a good job downtown.
Yeah. R.J. mention any trouble in his life lately?
Any arguments? Only...
No, it's okay. It's okay.
He had a fight with Mr. Francis.
Why'd R.J. strike you? I don't know.
He was an exhausted 20-year-old man, and I was treating him like a kid.
R.J. loved Mr. Francis. We all do. You can ask R.J.'s girlfriend.
That's Dallas Verona. She's a cheerleader.
Also, you know, you should talk to Coach Morse.
Those were the two people closest to him other than his family.
Damn it. I should've gotten a bigger turkey.
You have a smaller skull?
Do I have a smaller skull than who?
I meant, is there a smaller skull we can wrap in this turkey carcass?
- Boys, this better be good. - It's going to take me a very long time to reconstruct...
R.J. Manning's skull in order to discover whether he died from multiple blows.
- Which suggests murder. - Or if his skull was...
crushed through the heating grate just like this one.
We covered a skull with turkey meat.
I calibrated the pounds per square inch from the closing bleachers.
And we filled the skull cavity with a gelatinous matrix.
Okay. Turn it on.
By "gelatinous matrix," you meant ambrosia salad?
Gelatinous matrix sounded better.
There's absolutely no sign of powdering here.
Then R.J. Manning was killed by multiple strikes to the head.
I'm tellin' ya, George Francis does not care about that family. Kamaria seemed to like him.
Sure. I mean, he paid the rent and made her brother a star.
But, you know, he's got a whole 'nother agenda.
How do you know? 'Cause I was a college athlete.
Guys like that, they're always buzzin' around campus. Why?
Why? 'Cause there's millions of dollars at stake.
For bouncing a ball? Well, yeah!
All that bouncing, you know, translates into dollars from TV rights,
revenue shares, tournament fees.
Well, I don't understand what's interesting about it.
Unlike you, most people enjoy a pastime that takes them out of their head.
Takes them out of their head like drugs and alcohol.
Brennan.
- Hodgins and Zack proved that R.J. was murdered. - Murdered.
We've suffered a loss, gentlemen. One of our brothers is gone.
As a team, we grieve for him.
I tell you what you do not weep for though.
Losin' the best damn power forward in this entire country.
Colby Page is not shedding tears because we lost a power forward, is he?
No, sir. How do I know that?
'Cause Colby Page is gonna step right up and take R.J.'s position.
This is his opportunity, and it's good that he sees it as such.
Father God,
accept our brother R.J. Manning into your loving arms.
Give us the faith and the strength to carry on.
- Amen. - Amen.
Now, you boys go be together. Talk about R.J.
Come right back here and be ready to carry on and do what needs doin'.
Yes, Coach. All right, let's go!
All right, Colby. Let's do this.
- Go. Move it, Harris! - Yes, sir.
That's very impressive, Coach.
You the F.B.I.? Yes, sir.
Listen, if you're gonna talk to the boys, I'd prefer you do it soon.
Let us move on from the tragedy, okay?
What now?
Well, find out which one of these pretty girls over here is R.J.'s girlfriend.
I went home for the long weekend.
R.J. stayed on campus. Why?
Whatever... team stuff.
Did you call R.J., talk to him?
Yeah, and texted him. But he didn't answer.
That's not weird or anything. R.J.'s the face-to-face kind, right?
Everything okay between you?
Were you sexually active? He was my boyfriend.
He was in great shape, so, pretty active, yeah.
Were there any noticeable changes in your sex life?
Frequency, duration?
Every day but game day.
That was R.J.'s motto.
No jealous boyfriend from the past, angry dad, nothin'?
Oh, my God.
Mr. Francis is right.
You people think R.J. was murdered.
Was he under any kind of stress?
Of course.
Midterm exams?
R.J. was a star. They made sure he could pass his midterms.
R.J. was stressed because he always wanted to win.
Stressed enough to hit Mr. Francis?
R.J. never told me why he did that, but he felt bad about it.
Couldn't find enough tissue for a tox screen,
because these little scamps ate what was left.
Yeah, uh...
Hodgins, is that my own personal blender from the kitchen?
Toss these babies into the gas chromatograph.
Did you get it from the kitchen?
Yes. Any foreign substances in R.J.'s body should show up in the maggot juice.
Is it labeled "personal property of C.S." on the bottom?
Yes.
Don't worry. I'll rinse it out.
I can give you a few pointers, Bones.
Colby doesn't get out of class for a few minutes.
You gotta sort of flip your wrists, you see?
Like this. Bang! Sports should not have such a priority in the university.
All right. You know what? That's crazy.
No. Anthropologically speaking,
sports are a way for boys to practice their battle skills.
Yeah, okay. So, you wanna just focus straight up, get up on your toes and just let...
The truth is athletes are basically emotionally arrested in boyhood,
acting out childish games as though they have adult importance.
The only thing more juvenile are grown adults who watch sports.
Why you gotta say stuff like that? What? You mean, the truth?
All right. I'm a jock. So when you say those, you know, things that you say,
what are you saying about me? Nothing. You grew out of it.
No, I didn't, all right? My shoulder crapped out on me.
Otherwise I would've gone all the way with it.
- What? - And another thing, all right?
I, uh... I fought in a war.
So if sports is a, uh, childish substitute,
I can live with that.
- Ahh. Yo, Colby! - Yo?
Yeah, yo. I'm a little irritated with you. Just leave me... What?
Alone long enough so I can get over it, okay? Why are you irritated?
Why? Because I love sports. I watch sports, you know? I'm all about sports, you know?
Agent Seeley Booth. This here is Dr. Brennan.
- Yeah, Mr. Francis said you want to talk to me? - George Francis.
He really looks out for you guys, huh?
You must be happy to be a stringer again.
Starter, Bones. Starter.
Like Coach said, I'm happy to be starting, but not happy 'bout how it happened.
- Colby didn't ask for this. - It's okay, Celeste.
Colby's a team player. He's stepping up.
- This is my fiancée, Celeste Cutler. - - They're engaged?
- They're awfully young. - Cutler... as in, uh, "Cutter" Cutler?
Yeah, he's my father.
Your father's in law enforcement. You understand I have to ask these questions.
Plus, your boyfriend is one of the few people...
who benefited directly from R.J. Manning's death.
I don't like you.
- I hate her. - I can handle this. Just go on, Celeste. Okay?
All right.
I'm, uh... I'm sorry about Celeste.
She's just really... Really loyal.
I have to ask you, um... Where were you over the long weekend?
I was home. Look, I hate to disagree with Coach,
but I didn't really benefit from R.J.'s death.
- It sure seems like you did. - Starting power forward? That's pretty big around here.
I'm not gonna replace R.J. just because I take over his position.
Every game, people are gonna say, "Good game, son."
But in their head, they're thinkin', "He's no R.J. Manning."
Now, does that sound to you like something that I would kill to achieve?
Look, I was happy where I was.
I'm a team player, not a star.
Now, look, you said you were at home. Can anyone verify that? Huh? Your parents?
I'm not gonna answer any more questions until I talk to Mr. Francis.
I'm sorry.
Hmm, Francis again.
Hodgins here?
No. Do you know where he is?
No.
Can I leave a message for him with you?
- Why me? - Are you serious?
Fine.
I mean, you live together, right? No.
I mean, not officially.
- We have our own places. - But you spend all your time together.
- What's the message? - Tox results for R.J. Manning.
- Negative for alcohol and sedatives. - He reeked of bourbon.
Somebody emptied a bottle on him. More interestingly, he was on steroids.
I still haven't found an explanation for the extra synovial fluid in the joints.
I'm not sure I can remember all this.
Steroids, bourbon, synovial fluid. What's the problem?
I draw stuff. Okay? Fluids are not my actual area of expertise.
It's Hodgins's actual area of expertise,
and Hodgins is your area of expertise.
So by my calculations, all the areas of expertise are overlapping perfectly.
It's not a problem. I'll give it to him.
Thank you.
I read your contract, Coach.
You get a million-dollar conduct bonus for keeping the kids here in line.
I oversee 30 healthy, rambunctious, type "A" boys.
I earn every penny of it.
But you'd kiss that million dollars good-bye if R.J. Manning tested positive for steroids.
R.J.?
Tox screen came back positive.
- No. Doesn't make sense. - The better he plays, he's worth more to the pros.
Better chance you have to move up to the NBA.
You see this? You see this scar?
Brain cancer from steroids.
When it comes to my team, I have zero tolerance, and they know it.
What do you do if you catch 'em? I sure as hell don't kill 'em.
Million-dollar bonus. Free ride to the NBA.
Listen, I tell ya what. You call my doctor.
I'm terminal.
I got two years, tops.
The money, the career? Not big incentives.
I'd appreciate if you didn't tell anybody about my condition. I don't want sympathy.
Just want my boys to win this season.
You understand, I gotta pursue the steroid thing.
You don't even need a warrant.
Any boy that does not submit a urine sample is off this team.
Not one sample shows steroid use?
Not one. Coach's confidence in his boys was justified... at least as far as steroids.
Something else showed up?
Two of the samples came back positive for cefixime. The antibiotic?
Most commonly used to treat gonorrhea.
Gonorrhea would explain the extra synovial fluid in R.J.'s joints.
So R.J. plus two members of the team had gonorrhea? No.
Two of the urine samples came back with not only identical levels of antibiotic,
but... the exact same specific gravity.
Two samples from the same player.
Yes. My guess is that someone with gonorrhea...
is trying to protect someone using steroids.
Nice bunch of boys.
One of you is taking steroids, and the other one is being treated for the clap.
Somebody tested positive for steroids?
Oh, thank you for your candor, Jimmy. Thank you.
- I didn't admit anything. I asked a question. - That's great.
The guy on steroids would be worried about steroids. The guy with the clap...
That would be you, Eddie. He wouldn't worry. Well... why worry?
It's just a shot in the ass.
He was guessing until you admitted that, douche bag.
- Thank you, Ed. I appreciate it. You can leave. - Why can he leave?
I really don't care about where he's been dippin' his, you know, wick.
All right? I care about illegal steroids. Get lost, Ed. Leave.
What's steroids got to do with what happened to R.J.?
Oh, I don't know. Maybe R.J.'s just worried about the, uh, side effects.
You know, all the yelling and screaming. You know, all the zits on his pretty face.
His manhood shrinking.
So maybe he just gets nervous and he wants to confess to Coach Morse.
What, so I kill him?
That's crazy!
R.J. made me look good enough to go to Europe leagues... maybe even the NBA.
- You can't even prove I'm on steroids. - Nah.
No, see, I execute this warrant to check you for steroids.
It's a paper trail, and it becomes public knowledge, my friend.
- Man, I'd lose my eligibility. - Bingo.
So you tell me who provided you with the steroids. It stays between you and me.
Or, uh,
you gotta pee in the cup.
- Come on, man. - And this time, I'm gonna have to watch you pee in the cup.
I hope you don't have a bashful bladder.
- Dr. Saroyan? - Yes, Angela?
I've been thinking about it, and...
I don't think it was professional of you to leave this file with me.
- Really? Why is that? - I'm not Hodgins's assistant.
- But you are his girlfriend. - Problem is that being his girlfriend...
is a personal, private thing, and this is work.
- Ah. - I don't think it's good to mix the personal and work.
Hodgins and I are completely separate human beings with completely separate careers.
- In your opinion, I crossed a line. - Yeah.
It's my opinion.
I apologize, Angela. Thank you.
But you might be able to understand why I was a little confused.
Because apparently, you're not always against bringing your personal life to work.
Oh, my God. 'Cause what you're doing there is extremely personal.
Yeah, extremely personal.
I'm seeing parts of you and Hodgins I'd rather leave to the imagination.
When did they put security cameras in the storage area?
Who else has seen this? So far, just me...
and a very appreciative security guard. Oh, my God.
- Well, you've made your point. - Good. This is the only copy.
Do we get any points for this occurring during lunch hour?
Which is, as you know, personal time.
No. Fair enough. I had to ask.
Now, trust me. I know what I'm talkin' about.
I know what I'm talkin' about. You gotta know...
George Francis, you're under arrest... Ow!
For providing restricted substances. Whoa.
You said you were just gonna talk.
I saw his face, and I got mad, okay? You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.
So this is a pretty good time to probably tell us that you killed R.J. Manning.
Save us all a whole hell of a lot of time. Why would I kill R.J.?
Why would I kill the golden goose? He wasn't a goose.
He was a man. He give you steroids too, Colby?
No, he was just trying to get me into free student housing. Colby, tell Cutler, okay?
Just tell him what's goin' on.
He was with Colby?
Uh-huh.
Colby's like a son to me. Well, he's about to become my son-in-law.
You don't care that Colby's not a star like R.J.?
As a man, sure, I'd rather it be R.J. Manning. But as a father?
Colby'll make a much better husband to my daughter.
You walk like a man decades older than you are.
You never got to play in the pros.
Your wife left you because you didn't turn out to be the star she married.
It's not like I was a lot of fun to be around when the cheering stopped.
- You two don't pull any punches, do you? - Mm-mmm.
- I'll tell you what else I know. You'd do it all over again. - That doesn't make any sense.
Jocks.
You understand each other, but your priorities are completely skewed.
Ignore Dr. Brennan, okay? She's unreasonable on the subject.
He won't admit to the steroid thing.
- Plan "B"? - Plan "B."
- What's Plan "B"? - Convince him if he doesn't admit to the steroid thing,
then he's confessing to murder.
We, uh, jocks will take care of this one.
I'm looking at a cockroach's leg?
Technical term is "tarsus."
Are they usually blue like that? No.
He stepped in an amalgam of fats, waxes, oil and calcium dye.
Lipstick.
R.J. Manning wore blue...
lipstick? The lipstick wasn't found on his lips.
You know what I mean? Yes, thank you.
You sure? Yes, Dr. Hodgins.
Angela? Yeah?
You know, this is pretty good.
I mean, usually with these things, you think,
"God. More yoga, less carbs." You know? But... this ain't bad.
You might wanna turn the volume down.
Yeah, thanks.
You're gonna believe some kid takin' steroids...
over the best friend this college ever had? Of course.
Why? Because, George, if you and R.J. argued about steroids...
Say, he wanted more and you were sayin' no... that would explain why he hit you.
Ah, you know, 'roid rage?
I never provided steroids to anybody.
Okay, you know what I gotta do here, right?
Let me reason with him one more time.
Here's what's gonna happen, George.
If you don't admit to providing the steroids,
Agent Booth is going to arrest you for murder.
- That's ridiculous. - Really? 'Cause you got a great motive.
- What motive? - R.J. Manning admitted to you...
that he was gonna fess up to Coach Morse that he was on 'roids.
- You panicked and killed him. - Now, who's gonna fall for this?
Oh, the grand jury.
R.J. hitting me had nothing to do with steroids.
Agent Booth needs more than your assurance on that, George.
All right.
R.J. and I had a deal, and he wanted to break that deal.
You signed him up, didn't you? Illegal as hell.
But George had R.J. sign with him for representation in the NBA. Huh?
NBA salary, merchandising rights. Signature shoe?
And R.J. wanted out, right?
Cars, apartments, providing for his family? I deserve a little return on my investment.
Is R.J. the only one that you had a deal with?
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Huh? Who else? Colby? Huh?
Colby's a nice kid, but he's never goin' pro, Cutter.
Now, I didn't kill R.J. Manning.
There's no point to it. I had a legally binding contract with him.
You rat bastard! Come on.
If you don't arrest him for that 'roid thing, I will! All right. I got him.
I will. I got it.
This is saliva I found in Manning's shorts.
I also found pre-seminal fluid. What does that mean?
Are you serious?
Well, I know it means he had an erection, but what does the erection mean?
That he was sexually stimulated.
I know that. Healthy, post-adolescent males...
experience 11 to 20 erections every day,
any number of which produce pre-seminal fluid.
Yes, but do those erections produce saliva? No.
Cam's a doctor, honey. That was an amusing rhetorical question.
Zack also found this in the victim's hair.
What, semen? No, esophageal mucous... commonly known as a loogie.
- Someone spat at the victim? - Should I paint you a picture?
No.
Traces of pre-seminal fluid and saliva inside the basketball shorts...
suggests oral sex, during which the victim did not ejaculate.
Or perhaps he was killed before ejaculation.
I don't want to get graphic or anything, but wouldn't it be difficult...
to simultaneously bash someone's head in while servicing him? Talk about multitasking.
Which means there might have been a witness to this murder.
According to a cockroach I know, she might've been wearing blue lipstick.
Hmm.
We have been assuming that the victim was conked on the head...
and then dragged under the bleachers and compressed.
I see. Two people involved... victim and murderer.
- I see. - But now we could have a three-person situation.
I see. Victim, murderer and victim's special friend.
And you need what from me?
Any information you might have...
that could lead us to either the special friend or the murderer.
You might be interested in these crystalline deposits.
Oh. What is that?
- Bacteria crystallized postmortem. - Gonorrhea bacteria?
And we're back to R.J.'s special friend.
If only we could figure out who she is.
Hmm, you might want to ask Edward Dekker.
This is from R.J. Manning,
And this... is from Edward Dekker... same strain.
The members of this team are very close.
Oh, yeah! Baby alert! You can wait outside, Bones.
Are you still angry at me for saying that athletes are emotionally stunted?
Hey, baby, I know you want... Of course not. Hey.
Hey, hey, I talk to you, Ed, for a second?
All I did was pee in a cup for Jimmy Fields. All of a sudden this is a federal case?
Turns out he has the clap. Exact same strain as you.
Wait. You think I had sex with R.J.?
- I don't know. Did you? - No!
- Then why'd you bring it up? - You brought it up. All I did was pee in a cup.
- Why? - Because Jimmy's a teammate and he asked me to.
I would've done it for any of my bros.
- How'd this boy get into college? - Basketball.
Hey, look, I don't think I can be discussin' sexual topics with her lookin' at me.
- Why? - Because you're hot and I'm naked.
Okay, maybe you should just go stand over there.
- Wha... Because he's shy? - Look, maybe you didn't notice,
but, uh, I got no reason to be shy.
Obviously, he can't concentrate, so either cover your eyes or stand over there.
Okay.
Yeah... I'll just... I'll be right here.
Hey, man, she's smokin'.
All right, now, listen, Ed. I need to know if you and R.J. had sex with the same girl.
Definitely.
Okay, who?
- I don't know. - You don't know?
Well, look, there are girls who like to have sex with basketball players... "B" bunnies.
"B" bunnies. Right, yeah. Yeah.
Look. I'm not sayin' me and R.J. ever crossed swords or anything.
- Yeah. - But we were definitely takin' shots at the same hoops.
Right, um... You wear condoms?
- Always, yeah. - You got the clap.
- Right. - So who didn't you wear a condom with?
Attaboy.
Now you're using your whole brain. Come on.
All right, look. I got a name in my head, okay?
But there's no way R.J. Manning ever tapped that.
The name, Ed. I need the name.
Okay. My poli-sci tutor, Justine.
Hot not.
All the bad decisions you made,
and the one thing you're ashamed of is having sex with a "not hot" girl?
- What are you doing? - What?
I know I have gonorrhea. I'm being treated for it.
Well, where'd you get it?
They asked me the same thing in Health Services. Could've been a couple places.
Well, you're a smart girl. Why didn't you wear a condom?
I do... most of the time.
You know what? I made a mistake. She is not a smart girl.
This is a terrible university.
Do you ever wear bright blue lipstick?
Why? Is there some kind of link between the clap and blue lipstick?
Let's discuss Ed Dekker.
Okay, yes.
I gave gonorrhea to Dekker. Are you gonna arrest me?
We know that R.J. Manning had the exact same strain.
Did you give it to him too?
I mean, do you have some sort of hate-on for the entire basketball team?
R.J. gave it to me. Then he wouldn't even talk to me.
So I gave it to Ed Dekker for revenge.
Like, you know, let R.J. know I was still alive.
Those guys all talk, compare their conquests.
You have a key to the bleachers.
I didn't kill R.J. I'm not that nuts.
- We need a sample of your D.N.A. - Why?
Because just before he was killed,
R.J. was having sex with someone who may have seen his murderer.
You've got my snot,
my tears and my hair.
Knock yourself out! Just...
I don't understand. R.J. Manning, I guess,
broke her heart and a bit of her brain in the process.
Justine Berry's not the one who left her saliva or her lipstick on the victim's privates.
Okay, I'll help, but I do not want to be known as the makeup expert around here.
You found blue lipstick. "Chakra by Zensual."
"Zen" plus "sensual."
Chakra. Chak-ra. Rah as in "rah-rah," as in "rah-rah, sis-boom-bah."
Okay, you started off in English, but I have no idea where you ended up.
This is a promotional line...
marketed specifically to high school and college cheering squads,
tailored to their team colors.
Ah, Atlantic State Jaguars. R.J. Manning was under those bleachers...
gettin' lipsticked by a cheerleader.
♪♪
Do you know why we're doin' this? I can guess.
We found evidence that one of the cheerleaders...
might've been with R.J. before he died...
Sexually.
I know what "been with" means.
You know, the D.N.A. will, uh, tell us if it was you.
It wasn't.
- Why isn't she upset? - Oh, please.
Oh, I get it. You think because R.J. compulsively played around,
I might've lured him to his death or something?
Wow, she's smart. Mmm.
Well, do you want to pick out anyone in particular here?
Did you see R.J... Before he was dead, I mean?
He was a very good-looking guy.
You factor in his sex drive and how he played?
Half these girls have done him. Hell, he even did the towel girl.
All right, do you know about Justine Berry?
R.J. liked girls... All kinds of girls.
- I'm just one kind. - Hmm. Which kind is that?
The permanent kind.
You plan to live like that?
R.J. came home to me.
That's the way it would've stayed.
From his crappy student apartment...
to the giant mansion he would've gotten.
Is she crying because she loved him or because she lost a mansion?
She made the decision to hang on to him by...
letting him have sex with any other woman he wanted.
That sounds extremely rational. That's what's confusing.
Well done.
The idea that one person can be all things to another person...
Satisfy every need, or even more than one...
Is sentimental and mawkish.
There are indentations here.
Alphanumeric... "Z" and "S."
It's an imprint. Uh, it's backwards.
The numerals two and five.
Twenty-five.
Twenty-five pounds.
An imprint from free weights.
Our unknown female either meets or lures R.J. under the bleachers.
Lures? We're pretty sure the girl didn't actually kill R.J.,
but that doesn't mean that she wasn't bait.
I got somethin'... blood spatter.
Uh, it was wiped, but it's definite.
Looks like we have our murder weapon.
D.N.A. evidence is in. The blood on the weight is definitely R.J.'s.
What about the saliva and the sputum?
The loogie. I know about loogies.
Two things about the saliva.
One is that it did not come from the same person who provided the loogie.
So the person who serviced R.J. is not the same person who spat on him.
Two, we got a partial match on the saliva from one of the cheerleaders.
Celeste Cutler.
You think Colby and I plotted to kill R.J. Manning?
Celeste, you lured R.J. Manning under the bleachers, and you kept him busy.
- Kept him busy how? - Evidence shows she was performing oral sex on him.
Which gave you time to bash his head in.
But you made one mistake. One.
Look, I haven't done anything.
We will match this D.N.A. to the sputum found at the scene.
- What? - You hawked a loogie on him, kid.
- You killed him and you spat on his face. - Look, God is my witness.
That never happened.
Sorry to interrupt, but you really need to see this.
- Tox screen profile? - All 13 S.T.R.'s.
Thanks.
We got a hit on code "S" from the D.N.A. on the, uh, hawked loogie.
Hey, Chief.
If I hadn't have spat on that son of a bitch, you never would've caught me, right?
Well, Celeste might've told us.
She doesn't know.
I came in and...
saw my little girl...
Saw her with R.J...
doin' what she was doin'.
She heard me and took off.
None of the girls could resist R.J.
Kid had it all.
Magic boy.
You know what else he had? The clap.
And he knew that when he took my daughter underneath the...
Oh. He's got a gun, Bones.
I need you to leave now.
Don't worry. It's not you I intend to shoot.
There's no way "Cutter" Cutler kills himself.
No way "Cutter" Cutler goes down without a fight.
- What are you doing? You want him to shoot at you? - Go.
I was just like him, you know?
Under these same bleachers, in fact.
I was as bad as him.
You wouldn't understand.
We were all like that.
It changes your life. You... You see your little girl.
It's a different perspective.
People are gonna understand the action that you took, okay? I do.
Hey, man, you're "Cutter" Cutler.
Lowest assist in turnover ratios.
Huh? Twelve triple-doubles in your last season.
Nobody could change direction in the open court like you, man.
Nobody.
No.
Do it now. Just change direction again.
"Cutter" Cutler died a long time ago.
I'm just puttin' him away.
Uh!
Ow.
All right.
Your hand hurt? A little.
♪♪ So, jock mentality, teams...
Not all bad, huh? Why are you telling me this?
'Cause you said we're all stunted adolescents...
who take children's games too seriously.
I never meant you.
- Bones. - What?
- Bones, I'm one of those guys. - No, you aren't.
You don't play at being a warrior. You are a warrior... every day.
You're definitely... a fully developed man.
♪ Swept away by the tide ♪
Okay, okay. You leave the tip.
Even Cutler knew you were lying...
when you said you treated women like that under the bleachers.
- Oh, and you believe him? - Yes.
Because you still remember that first girl's name.
Let's go.
What's that mean?