Title: California Case File - Part 2/4 (Chapters 7 - 12) Author: Margie Rating: R (mostly for violence and/or graphic descriptions of corpses and things) Pairing: MSR UST, M/Sc/Sk friendship Summary: Mulder and Scully are loaned to ISU to help profile and catch a serial killer in Santa Barbara, CA. Disclaimer: I don't own anything. 1013, Fox and Chris Carter have carte blanche on all. (Except maybe Jon Engle) Feedback: Yes please! margaritagomez1@msn.com Archive: If you want it just email me to tell me where it's going. It will eventually be on my own website when I get the chance to update (www.angelfire.com/indie/margarks/index.html) Author's Note: ** Warning ** If you don't like descriptions of serial murders and the affects they have on family members left behind don't read this fic. Otherwise, enjoy. Beta: Thanks to Fran!! My wonderful Beta. This story wouldn't have been anywhere near as well written without your insightful character and storyline comments, and your wonderful grammar skills! *** Ch. 7 Santa Barbara General Santa Barbara, CA January 3, 2003 3:15 PM PST As he swam back up to awareness, Mulder heard familiar beeping sounds to his right. He was sore as hell, and he felt a sharp stab of pain at every intake of breath. He groaned, patting his bruised side with his left hand. “You’re lucky you didn’t break any ribs.” Scully. He opened his eyes to slits and saw her sitting in a chair by his bed. He could see the little line that furrowed her brow whenever she was annoyed with him. “Mulder, what were you doing out running when you were so exhausted?” She had been confused and frightened when she’d gotten the call from AD Skinner this morning. The hospital had found Mulder’s badge and called headquarters. When she arrived and found out that Mulder had nothing more than a severe bruising and a slight concussion, her fear ebbed into annoyance. “Come on, Scully. I just needed to let off some steam. You know how these cases get to me.” He gave her his pouting puppy dog look, but it was cut off with a grimace as he tried to sit up. “Well, you can explain that to Skinner when he arrives.” Her tone lightened at the sign of pain his pinched face displayed. “Skinner?” This time his grimace had nothing to do with the pain in his side. “Yeah, they called the Hoover when they found your badge. Skinner called me to let me know what had happened and that he would be joining us shortly.” “Why? It’s not like I was injured in the line of duty.” Mulder whined. “Mulder. You know Skinner was getting pressure to solve this case or he wouldn’t have assigned us to it. And now that you’ve gotten yourself run over, he’s coming out to make sure that we are still on track and that your injuries, such as they are, will not hamper the investigation.” “Scully?” Mulder was pulling at the IV attached to his right hand. She raised an eyebrow at him. “When can I get this damn thing out?” Maybe changing the subject would postpone the inevitable. “Mulder.” She sighed. “They had to keep you hydrated. You were unconscious for a good 5 hours before they were able to wake you for the first time.” “I know that. But I’m awake now. And perfectly capable of hydrating myself.” He was pouting again, his bottom lip jutting out just slightly. She rolled her eyes, wondering why she hadn’t expected it. “The nurse will be in soon to take your vitals anyway. We’ll ask her then. There shouldn’t be any problem.” They were silent for a few minutes while Mulder continued to fidget with his IV line. Eventually he looked up and asked, “Have they found anything yet?” She knew what he was asking, and shook her head in the negative. “No. The list is still too large. They’re narrowing it down, but apparently California isn’t known as the state of marital bliss.” He chewed on his bottom lip in thought. “He’s going to make his move soon. He’s not going to wait much longer. I can feel it. The last murder was so efficient. He knew exactly what to do, how much time he had. He’s gearing up for something - ” In unison they both turned toward the door as it swung open. Assistant Director Walter Skinner strode into the room, his face grim. “Sir.” Mulder and Scully addressed him. “Agents.” He looked toward his wayward subordinate. “There’s been a new development. How are you feeling, Agent Mulder?” “Development, sir?” Mulder ignored the question pertaining to his health. “Yes. But before we get into it I’d like to know how you’re doing.” He gave them both his stern A.D. look. “He’s fine, sir. Just some bruising and a mild concussion. They’ll probably want to keep him one more night for observation,” Scully answered for him. “And how was he before the accident?” He turned toward Scully, knowing that Mulder would not answer. “He hasn’t had a chance to get in too deep yet, sir. He was showing signs of loss of appetite and exhaustion, but nothing serious.” Scully was grateful that Skinner understood the risks that Mulder took whenever he was assigned to a case like this. “Hello? I am in the room.” Mulder was frowning at them both and gesturing at himself. “I’m well aware of that, Agent. And just how did you get yourself into this particular room?” Skinner eyed him wearily. Mulder lowered his gaze. He was embarrassed that he had allowed his confrontation with Engle to break his concentration. And he wasn’t about to announce that to Scully or Skinner. “It was just an accident sir. I was running. My mind was on the case. I didn’t see the car until it was too late. Now can we talk about the case?” Skinner studied his injured agent. It seemed that Mulder could never catch a break. He had enough problems dealing with cases like these. Studying and deciphering the actions of a mad man was bad enough, but now he was physically hampered as well. And Skinner knew he wasn’t going to take the latest news very well. “Our UNSUB struck again last night.” “What? I knew he’d already picked out his next victims, but this is too soon. Something must have happened.” Ignoring the pain, Mulder sat up straighter. “What else?” How did he know? Skinner glanced over at Scully who was waiting expectantly. She had no doubt that if Mulder suspected Skinner was holding back information that he was correct. He again locked gazes with Mulder. “He’s taken the child.” “What?” It was Scully's shocked exclamation this time. “After he murdered Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, he entered Mark Jackson’s bedroom. He forced him to dress, and then left the scene with him.” Skinner was rubbing his head with his right hand as he spoke. “Sir? Did he deviate from his MO in regard to the murders?” “No, Mulder. Both Mr. and Mrs. Jackson were stabbed 3 times in the upper chest. Both have ligature marks around their necks.” “Why did he take the child?” Scully was shaking her head. “Do you think that maybe Mark caught him in his parents' bedroom?” “I don’t think so, Scully. He’s too careful to let something like that happen. Remember? He plans everything out. He would have made sure that Mark was unable to catch him in the act.” Mulder’s hands were clasped together and he was rubbing the skin just above the IV needle. “I know. I remember thinking that it was such a blessing that he’d locked poor Chris Lassiter in his room.” “What do you mean, Agent Scully?” Skinner queried. “Well, it not only kept Chris from walking in on the murders, but it kept him from discovering his parents' bodies the next morning. It’s like the UNSUB meant to protect himself, but ended up protecting Chris as well.” “Protect?” Mulder murmured. “Excuse me, Agent Mulder?” Skinner turned back toward the bed. “He ended up protecting Chris.” Mulder’s gaze was turning inward. His voice was losing inflection. “Protecting Chris.” “Yes, we’ve established – “ Skinner was cut off by a look from Scully. “He’s protecting the children. He thinks they’re in danger. He thinks their parents are putting them in danger.” Skinner watched, fascinated. He could almost see the wheels turning in his brilliant agent’s mind. “Something must have happened for him to change his MO so drastically. He wouldn’t have taken Mark unless he thought the danger was even greater.” His eyes were still glassy when he turned them on to his partner. “Scully? Did we get the results on the fibers?” His brow was still furrowed in concentration, as he awaited her answer. “Yes. I got the fax this morning at the hotel.” She pulled out a slim white piece of paper. Mulder snatched it up before she could unfold it to its full length. “Hmm…shoelace? It's common in shoelaces?” His mind was whirring. He began to murmur again. “Protecting the children. Protecting them from their parents. Latch key kids? They were all latch key kids. Shoelaces? What does the shoelace have to do with it?” His voice faded as he eyed a point in the wall just above Skinner’s left shoulder. His eyes were moving in a rapid back and forth motion. And Skinner realized that he was going over the case file in his head. Suddenly the stillness of the room was broken by Mulder’s quiet declaration. “He had a son.” Ch. 8 “I need to get out of here.” Mulder threw the covers open and swung his legs off the bed. “Mulder, wait!” Scully was up and pushing the nurse call button. “Agent Mulder! Sit down.” Skinner put a restraining hand on Mulder’s shoulder. “Sir. I have to see the latest scene. We’re so close now. I can feel it.” Mulder looked beseechingly up at him. “At least wait until we can get a doctor in here, Mulder. He’s got to fill out the paperwork before you leave anyway. Scully’s already called the nurse.” As evidence of this statement, the door swung open, admitting a young woman in a white uniform. Scully was speaking before she could step fully into the room. “Please call the doctor, Nurse. Agent Mulder would like to be discharged.” As the nurse turned to leave, Scully addressed Mulder. “You know you should stay another night. You’re probably still going to be a bit disoriented. You do have a mild concussion.” “Scu-lly. You know I can’t do that. He’s already killed again, and this time he’s kidnapped a child. I can’t just sit here.” “Mulder. How do you know he’s got a son?” Skinner couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer. “He doesn’t. Not anymore. He’s dead.” Mulder was pulling at the IV still attached to the back of his hand. “Stop that.” Scully batted at his hand. “The doctor will have it pulled when he gets here.” “I’m here.” A voice answered from the doorway. “What’s this I hear about you leaving us, Mr. Mulder?” The young man walking toward them looked no older than 19. He had light coloring and a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. “I need to leave,” was Mulder’s only reply. “I see.” The doctor eyed him cautiously and then turned his gaze to Scully and Skinner. “I’m Assistant Director Walter Skinner with the FBI.” Skinner held his hand out in greeting. “This man is one of my agents. We’re currently on a case. Can you tell me if his injuries are serious enough to prevent him from returning to work?” “They’re not.” Mulder answered, daring his doctor to contradict him. “You are correct, Mr. Mulder. But it would be wise to stay another night for observation. Your injuries aren’t life threatening, but the concussion shouldn’t be taken lightly.” “My partner’s a doctor. She’ll make sure I’m okay.” He glanced at Scully for support. “Can you take this thing out now?” The doctor glanced back and forth from Scully to Mulder. Finally, he sighed in resignation. “I’ll send a nurse in to pull the IV while I fill out the paperwork for your discharge. But you’ll have to sign yourself out AMA. I am going on record that I do not approve of this.” “Thank you, doctor. I’ll make sure my partner doesn’t endanger himself.” She smiled reassuringly at him. Mulder turned toward Skinner. “Sir. We have to get the team to start researching the deaths of any children between 8 and 11 that have occurred within the past 5 years.” Mulder was already pulling his clothes out from the closet and stepping into his pants, unmindful of Scully’s presence. “Agent Mulder! Agent Scully is still in the room,” Skinner felt the need to remind him. “I’m sure she’s seen worse, sir.” Mulder answered without turning around. Exasperated, Skinner turned toward Scully. “Can you leave us alone for a few minutes, Agent?” “Yes, sir.” Scully was trying to suppress the smile that was threatening. Before Scully could leave, the nurse was back and pulling out the IV. Mulder was now free to put on the rest of his clothing, causing her to beat a hasty retreat. While Mulder pulled his undershirt over his head Skinner sat down in the chair recently occupied by Scully. “Agent Mulder. There is something we need to discuss before we leave here.” Skinner’s words were stiff. Mulder began buttoning his dress shirt. “Sir?” “Agent Engle made mention of a…discussion…the two of you had before you left for your run.” “What discussion was that, sir?” Mulder continued to face the closet door. “Agent Mulder, you know that I have the greatest respect for both you and Agent Scully.” “Thank you, sir.” Skinner sighed, then continued. “When I called the station house for an update on the case, I asked if Agent Engle knew what had happened to you. At first he explained that you had been running and then he was suddenly confessing to having possibly upset you.” Skinner gave a rueful smirk. Mulder finally turned, keeping his features neutral. “Upset me how, sir?” Skinner did not break eye contact. “Well, he didn’t give me all the details, but I think I got the gist of it.” “Sir?” Skinner watched Mulder carefully. Whether his agents were personally involved, he didn’t know. But he was sure that neither would allow that kind of relationship to intrude on their work. “Agent Mulder, let’s just say that Agent Engle was…bothered…by your last conversation. He spoke with me about it and I’ve straightened it out.” Mulder said nothing for the next few minutes. Was Skinner saying that he told Engle the rumors weren’t true? Or was he saying that he told Engle that they were none of his business? Either way he figured that the issue had been resolved, for now, at least. Finally he straightened up. “Yes, sir.” Shrugging on his jacket, he followed Skinner out of the room. Ch. 9 Jackson Home Goleta, CA January 3, 2003 6:23 PM PST Mulder and Skinner entered the already bustling house. The local forensics team was on site dusting for prints and collecting what little other evidence was left behind. They had just dropped Scully off at the morgue where the Jacksons' bodies were waiting, and had left Engle at the station house organizing the few deputies they had helping sift through the data generated by the new search parameters. Skinner watched Mulder as they walked toward the master bedroom. The house looked more like a small cottage. It was obvious that the Jacksons weren’t exactly well to do. But the house was cozy and well built. It was only one story, with the master bedroom toward the back, and two smaller rooms to either side. The one on the left was obviously Mark Jackson’s room. The right had been turned into what looked like a small study. Mulder entered the master bedroom and was immediately assaulted with a sense of déjà vu. The room furnishings were nothing like that of the Lassiter home, but the bloody scene was eerily reminiscent. The left side of the bed was soaked with already drying blood. The right side was almost immaculate with just a few splashes of the red liquid. The floor on the right was soaked through. Walking around to Mrs. Jackson’s side of the bed, he could see that she had tried to struggle. As the UNSUB stole her breath, she had probably bucked and twisted, trying to dislodge him. The sheets had been pulled down, the ends draping to the floor. Mrs. Jackson had probably grabbed the sheets in an effort to pull herself up. Mulder sat for a long time contemplating the blood stained carpet. Skinner watched and waited. Eventually the forensics crew packed up, leaving them alone in the house. Skinner was finding this new side of Mulder very interesting. He had never seen the agent in profiling mode, and was amazed that he could sit still for this amount of time. Mulder was a creature full of energy, which was what usually got him in trouble. Skinner was about to clear his throat in an attention getting manner, when Mulder suddenly looked up. “He’s so full of anger. I can feel it surrounding me. It surprises me that he’s able to keep control during the killings.” Mulder stood, dusting non-existent lint off of his slacks. He rolled his neck, hearing the satisfying crack. ‘You call this control?’ Skinner thought, surveying the bloodied scene, but only grunted in answer. “He doesn’t let his rage consume him. At least he hasn’t yet. If he had, he wouldn’t be able to stop at just 3 or 4 stabbings.” Mulder was pacing now, his voice losing inflection once again. Skinner shuddered. The flat, lifeless voice Mulder seemed to take on whenever he was entering the killer’s mind made his temperature drop. It was almost as if Mulder wasn’t in there anymore. “The shoelace. It’s extremely important to him. The killings revolve around it.” Mulder stopped and stared at the bed once more. “He keeps his rage in check because he wants to use it. He needs to use it. He needs for it to be the instrument that steals the women’s lives.” Mulder was no longer moving, no longer seeing. He stood facing the bed, his breath even and his eyes glassy. He was still for long moments before he spoke again. “I hate her.” “What?” Skinner had lost the thread of the conversation somewhere. He was beginning to worry and wondered if he should be calling Scully, for advice or rescue. He wasn’t sure. “She didn’t have to do it. She should have been there. I should have been there. But it was her job. She was the mother.” Mulder’s voice was no longer flat, though his body was still. “She was supposed to be the mother!” At his incoherent wail, Skinner stepped up and slapped him. Mulder’s head whipped to the side and when he returned his eyes were clear. “Sir, I need to see Mark’s room.” He was out the door and out of sight before Skinner was able to reply. He rounded the corner and entered Mark’s room, seeing Mulder sitting on the bed rubbing his reddened cheek. “You were out of control.” Skinner asserted. “Hmm?” Mulder was focused on Mark’s desk. “The slap. You were out of control.” Skinner wasn’t apologizing, just stating facts. “Yes, sir.” Mulder didn’t seem to have followed the conversation. He stood and moved toward the small wooden desk. There was an outdated PC on it, and a stack of computer games on the shelf attached to the wall. “Games.” Mulder mumbled. “Computers, Playstations, Nintendos. Toy store? Electronics?” Mulder was thumbing through the stack. “He had to have access somehow. He was escalating. I knew it. I should have realized." Skinner felt comfortable as long as Mulder kept moving. He was watching for signs that might lead to a repeat of the earlier incident. “Realize what, Agent Mulder?” Maybe if he kept Mulder engaged in conversation, he wouldn’t go too deep. “That he’d eventually want a replacement. Need a replacement.” Mulder chewed his bottom lip. “But it still shouldn’t have happened so quickly.” He was fiddling with the papers on the desk now. "He was hurt." “Who? The UNSUB?” Skinner queried. “No. Mark. That’s why he was taken. That’s why he moved his timetable up.” Mulder was rubbing the stubble along the underside of his jaw. “What? How can you know that?” Skinner was incredulous. “Here.” Mulder handed over what appeared to be a greeting card. He opened it to reveal a cheery picture of a smiling sun. The words “Get well soon!” appeared at the bottom. There were several scraggly signatures that couldn’t be read, but a few words such as ‘cast’ and ‘fall’ could be made out. The card was dated the day before yesterday. Skinner felt an odd sense of relief. Mulder had deduced the events through the use of actual facts. But he was beginning to understand how he was tagged with the nickname ‘Spooky’. The silence was broken by a shrill ring. They both reached for their pockets, fumbling for their phones. It was Mulder’s. “Mulder.” “Mulder, it’s me.” “Hey, Scully. What have you got?” “Nothing new. I found a few fibers of the same material on Mrs. Jackson’s neck. I’ve bagged what I could and will be sending it on to the lab.” “Good. We’ve found out that Mark Jackson had an accident before the kidnapping. Had some sort of cast. We need to check hospitals. I need more detail on the accident.” “You think that’s why he was taken?” “Got it in one, Scully.” Mulder smiled on the other side of the line. “Are you heading back here?” Scully smiled back. She was washing up after just having pulled off her latex gloves. “Yes. We’ll pick you up and head over to the station. We need to see what progress Engle’s had and then compare notes.” “I’ll call over and get Engle to start a deputy on chasing down the hospital the Jacksons used.” “Thanks, Scully. We’ll be there in a few.” “Okay, Mulder.” * Click * Skinner had watched the exchange carefully. He didn’t know yet what to make of his conversation with Agent Engle, but he thought now would be a good time as any to start paying a bit more attention to his two wayward agents. Were the rumors were true? He didn’t know. Were they were any of his business? Sure as hell they were! He was their boss. Not only that, but he had found over the years that he cared for the two of them. They were a good team with a high solve rate. And he was determined to make sure that they stayed that way. But since he had no definitive proof either way, he decided to watch, wait, and bide his time. Since Mulder was already heading toward the front door, he decided to follow. Ch. 10 UNSUB’s Home Santa Barbara, CA January 4, 2003 9:53 AM PST “Shhh.” He rubbed the child’s back in a circular soothing motion. The quiet sobs continued to echo off the papered walls. His eyes swept the room once again. He had set it up just like Jason’s room, except for one or two upgrades. Instead of the Playstation he now had an Xbox. Instead of the old 386 PC he now had a Pentium. There were the usual posters on the wall; Mark Maguire, Michael Jordan. He should have everything he needed to make him happy. So why was he crying? “Are you hungry? Do you want a snack?” “NO!” The child swiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “I want my mom!” The child pulled away and ran toward the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He could still hear the sobs and sniffles through the door. Well, if that’s what he wanted, that’s what he was going to get. *** Sheriff’s Department Santa Barbara, CA January 4, 2003 1:13 PM PST The squeak of door hinges alerted the quartet to their visitor before the Sheriff was able to completely enter the room. Hat in hand, he nodded a greeting to the four agents. “Ma’am, sirs.” Skinner stood and held out his hand. “Afternoon, Sheriff. I’m Assistant Director Walter Skinner. I want to thank you for the use of your facilities and all of the help you and your deputies have been.” “Sheriff Crane.” They shook hands. “But I should be thanking you. You’re helping with MY case, not the other way around.” “Of course, Sheriff. We never meant to imply otherwise.” Skinner re- seated himself as he spoke. “Now what can we do for you?” The Sheriff remained standing, while he eyed the newcomer. “Well, Mr. Skinner, I’d like an update on your progress. Do we have any idea where this bastard took Mark Jackson? Or if he’s even still alive?” “He’s definitely still alive.” Mulder asserted. “And what makes you so sure of that?” Crane’s gaze flitted across the room until it fell on Mulder’s lanky form. “Because everything has been leading up to this.” Mulder stood and began pacing the back of the room. “I should have seen it sooner.” His hand came up to wipe across his haggard features. “In every case so far, he’s been protecting the children. He made sure that none of them could get out of their rooms. He made sure that none of them would find their parents after the fact. He wanted to – “ “Wait a minute.” Sheriff Crane interrupted. “Alicia Harris was the one who called in the 911 on her parents. She found the bodies.” “Yes, but Alicia is 15. She wasn’t the UNSUB’s target. Tommy was. He was protecting Tommy, her 9 year old brother. He didn’t care whether Alicia found the bodies, just Tommy.” Mulder’s movements were slowing as he once again found himself facing the wall of crime scene photos and family portraits. “His son was most likely 9 or 10 when it happened. He wouldn’t stray too far from the original. Mark will be turning 11 in February. He’s just the right age. Don’t you see?” “No, I don’t see, Agent Mulder. What happened? And how do you know he has a son?” “Had a son, Sheriff. He’s dead. That was probably the trigger that started our UNSUB on his downward spiral. The final stressor for him was the divorce.” Mulder was pacing again. His eyes were darting around the room in a distracted pattern. “Our UNSUB is in his mid 30’s to late 40’s. He comes from a dysfunctional family, most likely having been raised by his father. His mother either passed away when he was very young, or she abandoned them. His father abused him verbally, but not physically. “Growing up, the desire to have his own family became increasingly prevalent. He married young and had a child. After the birth of his son, he would have been much more relaxed. His obsession with having a family would be somewhat appeased.” Mulder stopped once again, this time facing the group. Scully watched as the tension in his body increased. His back was ramrod straight. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides. She could tell that he wasn’t really looking at them, instead watching the play of images across his mind’s eye. “He relaxed enough to allow his wife to go back to work. Part time, of course. And only after his son had started full days at school. But that was a mistake. She should have been at home taking care of their son. “For days when work ran late, she had given their son a house key. He would let himself in and wait for her to get home. Our UNSUB didn’t find out until after. He never knew that she wasn’t home to greet their son every day after school. Not until it was too late. “There was an accident.” Mulder shook his head. His eyes cleared slightly as he glanced over at Scully. She caught his eye and they exchanged a look. Mulder’s features visibly relaxed. “The death of their son caused a rift between the couple. Our UNSUB blamed his wife for the accident. He made no attempt to hide this from her. Their eventual separation and then divorce was the final straw for him. The last little pieces of his dream family had shattered.” Mulder took his seat next to Scully. “And now he wants it back.” Jon had been watching Mulder throughout the profile. He had come to a few of the conclusions himself, but with nowhere near the depth of detail into the UNSUB’s mind that Mulder had gone. “So at first, he was content to just ‘protect’ the children. Going after the parents who were leaving their children at home to fend for themselves. The latch key kids.” Jon broached tentatively. “Yes.” Mulder turned to regard Engle. “But it wasn’t enough. Just protecting the children wouldn’t bring back his dream of having a family of his own.” “So now he’s decided to what? Replace his kid?” Sheriff Crane asked dubiously. Mulder ignored his incredulous stare. “It would have happened eventually. Mark’s accident just upped his time table.” “Well, now that he’s got a replacement, now what? Does that mean we’ve got some time before he kills again?” Skinner questioned. “Yes and no. He won’t kill again. Not unless he decides that Mark isn’t ‘right’ for him.” Mulder scrubbed at his jaw. “But he still doesn’t have his family back. He’s missing a vital component.” “A mother for his son.” Engle prompted. “But how will he choose her?” Scully looked toward Mulder. “He doesn’t have to choose one. He already has one.” Mulder looked back to see Scully’s confused stare. “That doesn’t make any sense. He blames his wife for his son’s death. Why would he want her back to take care of his ‘new’ son?” Scully questioned. “Because he craves redemption. For himself, his wife, his family. He wants to start over. He thinks that if he can control the environment, he can keep it from happening again. And absolve himself.” Mulder stood staring at Mark Jackson’s family portrait, a new addition to the war room wall. “He’s convinced himself that if he had known his son was a latch key kid he would have put a stop to it. He would have forced his wife to stay home. He would have prevented the accident.” “So where do we go from here?” Sheriff Crane piped in. “This is where Agent Engle comes in.” Mulder seated himself once again, gesturing toward Engle. “What can you tell us?” Engle stood and began handing out a stack of papers to each member of the group. “As you know, we began with a list of well over 15,000 divorces within the surrounding counties.” He re-seated himself and began flipping through the papers in front of him. “We were able to narrow this list down to about 8,000, given Agent Mulder’s original profile of the UNSUB. Cross-referencing this list with the list of boys ages 8 to 11 who died within the past 5 years has narrowed the list even further.” “Agent Mulder instructed us to focus on men who were living in Santa Barbara County at the time of their sons’ deaths. The list is now down to a possible 125 suspects.” “That’s still too many to move on.” Skinner noted. He was becoming increasingly frustrated. It seemed as if they were so close. He turned toward Mulder. “What can we do to narrow this down further?” “I need time to work on the profile some more. I need to figure out where he’s meeting these kids. He’s got to be getting his information from somewhere. In the mean time, you can try to eliminate anyone whose ex-wives are deceased. She’s definitely still around, at least for now.” Mulder was already gathering the case file closer, his right hand reaching out for a pen and a blank pad of paper. Ch. 11 The rest of the group dispersed at Mulder’s obvious dismissal. Sheriff Crane left the room intent on interrogating his deputies as to the progress of their research, Engle in tow. Skinner went out to make use of an empty desk in order to check up on headquarters. Scully was the last to leave. “How about I order a couple of pizzas for lunch?” “Go ahead, Scully, I’m sure the guys would appreciate it.” “I’m not worried about the guys, Mulder.” She briefly touched his shoulder. He looked up into her worried face and sighed. “Thanks, Scully, but I’m not really hungry right now. I could really use a few hours alone to work on the profile.” “I know that, Mulder. But I haven’t seen you eat anything since before the accident. You need to eat something.” “I think finding Mark is the priority right now, Scully.” “What good will you be if you collapse from exhaustion and malnutrition? You haven’t even fully recovered from the accident!” Scully snapped. Mulder’s jaw clenched. “I don’t need a babysitter, Scully. I can take care of myself.” He spat the words out. “Mulder, do you remember what you said at the hospital? You told that doctor that I would make sure you were okay. And that’s what I’m going to do.” “Scully, I can’t worry about that right now. He’s taken a child. Mark’s only 10. 10, Scully. He’s scared. He probably doesn’t even know what’s happening, or where his parents are. I need to find him.” He glanced up and then away. Scully’s irritation fled at the haunted look in Mulder’s eye. “I know, Mulder. I know you can’t worry about it, but that’s why I’m here.” She caught his eye. They stared quietly at each other for a moment. Finally she stood. “When the pizza gets here, I’ll bring you in a couple of slices. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you, but please just try to eat something. Okay?” Mulder capitulated with a quiet, “Thanks Scully.” He watched her walk out of the room, closing the door behind her. *** Sheriff’s Department Santa Barbara, CA January 4, 2003 4:01 PM PST Skinner found Scully at an empty desk across the way from the war room. She was busy transcribing her notes from the latest autopsies, a cold slice of pizza sitting on a paper plate to her right. As he watched, he noticed her scrutiny of the war room door every few minutes. She seemed pensive as she chewed on her bottom lip. “Agent Scully.” Lost in thought, she visibly jerked at the sound of his voice. “Sir?” “Is there something wrong, Agent?” “Wrong, sir? No.” “Good. I wanted to ask you how Agent Mulder’s doing. I’m a bit worried about my decision to allow him to sign himself out of the hospital so early. Do you think there is any cause for concern?” Scully debated her answer. She was worried, but she didn’t want A.D. Skinner to think that Mulder was incapable of doing his job. She knew that wasn’t the case. To her, his abilities weren’t in question. “Well, sir. I think, under the circumstances, there was no other decision to be made.” Hmm. Interesting answer. She didn’t seem to be agreeing or disagreeing in any way. “Yes, but do you think that Agent Mulder’s health could be in danger?” “No more than usual, sir.” Skinner chuffed out a quiet chuckle. “That’s not very promising, Agent.” Scully allowed a small grin to tug at her lips before continuing. “Sir, you know that Mulder has a tendency to focus entirely on a case, especially ones involving child kidnappings. This ability to focus allows him to write extremely accurate profiles, but does expose him to exhaustion and a battered immune system. I’m a little concerned that the accident may exacerbate these conditions.” Scully watched Skinner for his reaction. His face remained unchanged. “What do you suggest, Agent Scully?” Skinner knew she was right. He’d already borne witness to Mulder’s fatigue over the past day and half. “I’ve already spoken to him about trying to eat. In fact, I left two slices of pizza for him in the war room about an hour ago. Hopefully he’s at least taken a few bites.” She sighed and looked back down at her laptop. “Well, I’m just going to check and see how the profile’s coming.” Scully hid a smile as she watched Skinner cross the room towards the commandeered interrogation room. *** Skinner entered to find Mulder engrossed in the case file before him. He didn’t look up or acknowledge Skinner’s presence in any way. The A.D. took a moment to assess his agent. The two slices of pizza were sitting at the end of the table, cold and untouched. The previously blank pad of paper was now flipped to the fifth page down and was half full of notes in Mulder’s scraggly writing. There were three empty coffee cups on the table to his left. Mulder was a mess. It didn’t look as if he had shaved that morning. Although he still wore his tie, it was askew and his jacket was thrown on the chair beside him. The top two buttons on his dress shirt were undone, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He had obviously spilled some coffee on the table, and a bit on himself, judging by the brown spots on his shirt. “Ahem.” Skinner cleared his throat. Mulder still made no move to acknowledge his superior. He pulled out the chair in front of Mulder and took a seat. The scraping of the chair echoed throughout the room, causing Mulder to finally glance up from his work. “Nothing new yet, sir. I still need some time to develop the rest of the profile.” “Well, I’d like to read what you have so far.” Skinner reached across the table to grasp the notepad. “Sir, those are just my notes. I don’t have anything new to add to the original profile report yet.” “I realize they are just your notes Mulder, but I’d like to read them anyway. Why don’t you finish your lunch while I read these? It will only take a few minutes and then I’ll leave you to continue your work.” Skinner eyed him levelly. “I’m not really hungry, sir. I’ll just go get another cup of coffee.” Skinner’s arm shot out to stop Mulder from standing. “That wasn’t a request, Agent.” Mulder scowled. “You can’t force me to eat, sir.” “No, but I can take you off this case.” “You wouldn’t do that, sir. There’s no one else who can take it.” “Mulder, this case is important. And saving Mark Jackson is important. But I will not allow you to put your own health at risk. I can and I will take you off this case if necessary.” Skinner ended his speech with a growl. The two men stared at one another. Mulder was the first to glance away, reaching his arm across the table for a slice of pizza. “Scully got you doing her dirty work, sir?” He made a face at his first bite of the cold food. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mulder.” Skinner caught Mulder’s scowl. “If you had eaten it when it arrived, it wouldn’t be cold now.” “Words of wisdom, sir. I’ll be sure to remember them.” Ch. 12 Motel 6, Room 143 Santa Barbara, CA January 5, 2003 2:32 AM PST “I need to go back to the crime scenes, Scully.” Mulder sat slouched in the one chair of the room. He hadn’t really gotten anywhere on his profile this afternoon. He still hadn’t figured out the contact point. Scully watched him from across the room. His head was thrown back and he was staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. “Okay, Mulder. You can do the revisits tomorrow.” “I’d like you to go with me. I need you there.” He’d visited the first four scenes with Engle, and the last with Skinner. He couldn’t help thinking that all the pieces were there; he just couldn’t quite make them fit. He needed to go over each scene again. He needed to bounce his ideas off of Scully. “Sure, Mulder. The autopsy reports are complete. Skinner and Engle can take care of the research. There’s not much more we can do on that end for now anyway.” She regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. Mulder’s face fell into an impassive mask. “Mulder…I didn’t mean – “ “No. You’re right, Scully. They can’t do anything until we can figure out the contact point. How the hell is he meeting these kids?” Mulder’s fist slammed into the small round table next to him, the half cup of coffee splashing liquid onto its surface. Scully strode to the bathroom. She reappeared with a small face cloth to wipe up the coffee spill. When she was through, she took a seat on the spare bed facing him, their knees almost touching. Mulder’s eyes were closed, his face pinched. Tentatively, she reached out to touch his hand. They were clasped together on his lap, his right thumb tracing circles on the back of his left hand. His eyes flew open at her touch. Her hand laid gently atop his. Her palm was warm against his cool skin. She gave a gentle squeeze as their eyes met. The color rose in her cheeks, but she did not remove her hand. The lines on his face smoothed out as the silence stretched. Slowly, his left hand disengaged from his right. Pulling it out, he laid it atop her own, cradling her hand in his. “Scully, I – “ Her hand recoiled at the knock on the door. Her arms crossed to hug her abdomen, the color still high on her cheeks. Skinner surveyed the room as the door opened. Mulder was sitting at the small table the room provided. Papers were spread on its surface and the bed nearby. His gaze swept the room, noting that at least the covers on the other bed were intact. “Scully.” He nodded at her. “Sorry to disturb you so late, but I see that you’re still up.” He gestured at the papers laying on the spare bed. “Yes sir. We were just discussing the case.” Though her color was returning to normal, Skinner was able to see the faint traces of her earlier blush. Discussing the case, huh? She closed the door and turned to her superior. “What can we do for you, sir?” Mulder still sat quietly in the corner. “I was actually looking for Agent Mulder.” “Well, you found me, sir.” Mulder smirked. “Yes, I see that.” He looked pointedly at his agent. “I wanted to discuss what your plans for tomorrow were going to be. We are still at an impasse in the research.” Scully glanced at Mulder to see his jaw tense at Skinner’s unintended slur. “We were just discussing that, sir. Mulder and I will be heading out to revisit the crime scenes tomorrow. Mulder thinks it will help him develop the rest of the profile. And since I haven’t seen them yet, he thought a fresh pair of eyes would be a good idea.” “That sounds like a good idea. I’ll want you to check in at each crime scene so that I can gauge your progress. Agent Engle and I will remain at the precinct to ensure that the deputies on research duty stay on track. “Thank you, Agent Scully. I’m sure you’d like to get some rest now. I know we could all use some.” He threw a glance at Mulder. Mulder sighed, getting to his feet. Either Skinner really wanted him to rest, since he was sure he looked like crap, or he was trying to tell him that he didn’t want a repeat of his earlier conversation with Engle. Either way, he figured it was time to say goodnight to Scully. “Thanks, Scully.” He threw her a crooked grin. “Why don’t we meet for breakfast tomorrow and then we can head straight to the Hunts'?” “Sounds good, Mulder. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She walked them both to the door. “G’Night, Scully.” “Goodnight, Mulder. Sir.” “Agents.” *** Hunt Home Montecito, CA January 5, 2003 8:17 AM PST Scully stifled a yawn. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. After Mulder and Skinner had left, she had spent a few minutes straightening up the room, and then getting ready for bed. But even after having slipped beneath the sheets, her mind refused to allow her rest. She couldn’t help feeling that her relationship with her partner was getting more and more complicated. She watched him as he absentmindedly swung the ‘For Sale’ sign on its hinges as they passed. A brief smile lit her face at his childish display. “We won’t be here long, Scully.” Mulder spoke as they entered the home. “They’ve already packed everything up for the move. I just wanted to do a quick walk through before we went to the Harris’.” They walked through the now empty living room, entering the hallway to the right. At the back of the house was the master bedroom. She watched as Mulder paced the length of the room, his eyes not focusing on any single location. She noted that his walk was the normal steady gait she was used to. His injuries from the accident almost healed. She could still tell that he had some trouble moving from a standing position to a sitting position and vice versa, but otherwise he was in relatively good shape. “What do you think, Scully? How can he be hitting all three cities so efficiently?” Mulder was musing out loud. “Traveling salesman?” Scully ventured. “I don’t think so. It doesn’t feel right. I think he’d have hit a larger area if he that were his occupation.” She watched as he chewed his bottom lip, his eyes shut in concentration. “Maybe he’s a contractor? He had a job out here, and then one in Goleta, then one in Santa Barbara?” “And now he’s got another in Goleta?” He thought for a moment. “No, it doesn’t seem to fit for some reason. If he were a contractor how would he have met the kids? Unless he were working on their house? Or a mall or shopping center maybe?” Mulder sighed. “But we should probably check it out, see what kind of contractors have been working the three areas.” “I’ll let Skinner know when we check in. He can have Jon start that aspect of the research while we go on to the Harris’.” Mulder suppressed a slight involuntary grimace. Scully didn’t notice Mulder’s reaction to her informality with Agent Engle’s moniker. He was probably just over reacting after all the crap he’d been through in the past few days. But still it bothered him that Scully seemed to take to ‘Jon’ so quickly. He had noticed that she’d been calling him Jon, not Agent or even Engle, practically since they’d landed. “Okay. Well, you can call in now. We need to get going anyway. I want to do a run through at each site for you before we settle in at the Jacksons'. That’s where we’ll probably get the most information, since it’s the most recent.” Mulder’s hand warmed the small of Scully’s back as he led her to the front and out the door. *** Jackson Home Goleta, CA January 5, 2003 7:01 PM PST “Mulder, there must be hundreds of electronics stores in the area.” “I know that, Scully. I told you, it’s just a hunch. A feeling.” “But if he worked at an electronics store, how would he have known about all five families in three different cities? It doesn’t make sense.” “I can’t explain it. And I know that not even all five kids had the same electronic system, but they all had game systems. PCs, PS2s, Gamecubes. And kids at that age have a tendency to obsess over those games. Especially boys. You saw the number of video game magazines at the Lassiters'!” Mulder was getting frustrated. He couldn’t explain why he thought the killer might have met them through an electronics outlet. But his mind had made a connection, and he thought it was important enough to at least follow up on. Scully was right, but so was he. Scully could hear the plea in Mulder’s voice. She knew he couldn’t always explain how he got to whatever conclusions his mind had drawn, but this was far fetched, even for Mulder. He was basing his entire assumption on extremely circumstantial evidence. Before she could open her mouth to answer Mulder was talking. “Okay, Scully.” He took a long and deep breath. “If you think it’s a waste of time for Engle and the deputies we’ll just drop it for now.” He took a seat on the small twin bed beside her his eyes focused on the opposite wall. Scully frowned. That was definitely not like Mulder. Giving up? “Mulder, are you okay?” “Yeah, Scully. I’m just tired.” He swiped his open palm across his face. “And I’m just not sure how close we are. I don’t know what the UNSUB will do next, because I don’t know what Mark Jackson will do next. If he doesn’t behave the way the UNSUB expects, or wants, it may just trigger an even bigger event than the original stressor. And if we don’t find our UNSUB’s ex-wife soon, she’ll be thrown into that explosive equation as well.” His head now rested in his hands, just above his knees. “We have to find them soon. Within the next 48 hours, or I can’t guarantee that Mark Jackson will still be around to be found.” The whispered words carried through the quiet room to Scully’s ears. “Okay, Mulder. If you think that there’s a chance that our UNSUB could be connected through an electronic outlet, then we’ll chase that lead. You’re the profiler.” She felt her hand steal out to comfort him, but pulled back before making contact. She wasn’t sure if either of them were stable enough for a repeat of last night’s encounter. “Geez, Scully if I’d known I could get you to change your mind by just agreeing with you, I would have tried it a long time ago.” His grin was contagious and she answered it as she threw back, “You catch more flies with honey, Mulder…”