Jo Jo lee
Joeyleenaz@aol.com

X-Files A/U
Continuation of Series:Story Two: Harmony in Echoes
Chapter 1/13
Slash S/M PG to N17
Thanks to Bertina for her great Beta Reading

Disclaimer: All X-File characters belong to somebody other than myself. No profit, Just fun.

Summary-Skinner and Mulder hunt an elusive serial killer who drags Skinner and Mulder into a perilous undercurrents.

Note: This story is in the same ëuniverse´ as Two Voice Harmony-using many of the same original characters and such. You may want to start with that story before you read this one.
Smiles, Jo Jo lee
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two Voice Harmony-Story two: Harmony in Echoes
 

Chapter 1

The nun appeared to be asleep and the man in the adjacent seat of the bus tried not to disturb her. She had not looked well when he had observed her boarding the bus in Detroit. He had politely helped her stow her coat and her small carryall in the overhead and chided himself for his awkwardness. To his mild surprise he found himself slightly uncomfortable finding himself next to a nun in full regalia.

He wasn´t Catholic and didn´t know that much about them other than what he heard or had seen on TV. He didn´t know quite how to treat her. She was a tall woman, about five foot eight inches and very thin. She had strong features and very dark eyebrows and eyes that contrasted with an unnatural paleness. Her face was gently lined and spoke of over sixty years of living.

Her manner had been pleasant; her voice had been unexpectedly soft and somewhat weak. After a few polite acknowledgements, she had closed her eyes. He had been, to some extent, grateful that he would not have to contend with her all the way to D.C. He opened his newspaper to read and tried to ignore her flowing black skirts.

*******************

Mother Francesca Serrati carefully regulated her breathing in a futile attempt to calm her mind. The past week had been a nightmare. She was haunted by the memory of the small boy she had found dead. He had been abused, then murdered and left for someone to stumble across. Unfortunately, it had been her.

Mother Francesca had spent the last thirty-two years teaching at a Catholic facility called Villa Cabrini Home for Boys a few miles outside of Lansing Michigan. The facility covered six acres and housed three hundred boys and had both orphans and boys the state considered ëat risk´. Little Arthur had been seven and one of the orphans.

Little Arthur had snuck out of the second grade dorm room after the boys had been put to bed and had never been seen alive again. While looking for him, Mother Francesca had literally stumbled over his dead body in a wooded area, less than a mile away from his dorm.

She had been discouraged by what she had witnessed of the subsequent investigation. Then her discouragement turned to anger when she realized that nobody would listen to her when she said she had seen another boy, dead, like this. Too long ago to be relevant they all had said. Mother Francesca knew better, felt it. Someone was out there and had killed again.

The rum-rum of the bus and the unfamiliar surroundings unsettled her. In the thirty-five years she had been a nun, she had never traveled alone. Her Order had, for the most part, ignored much of the moderations of Vatican Two. Her order still wore full habits. Luckily, they had always been simple and practical.

It was still customary to travel at least in pairs. She had not traveled often and she keenly felt her singleness. She had always found comfort and peace in the routines of her life. This ëadventure´ was anything but calming. She was uneasy and felt ill-prepared in the fast paced world of strangers. She grimly lowered her eyes and the thought of her mission she drew courage from what she knew she had to do.

She prayed that she was not self-deceived and that the omission of her purpose to her superiors, Mother Veronica and Monsignor Breenen, would not taint her purpose. No, she knew that what she was doing was right and that the inspiration and the desire to do it had come from God.

She had told her Mother Veronica and Monsignor Breenen that she was exhausted and needed a vacation. Since she had not taken one in over a decade, and due to the tragedy she had been involved with, permission was quickly granted.

She informed them that she was planning to visit her brother and assorted relatives in Baltimore and had been given a special dispensation to travel the distance to her relatives alone. However, she had omitted that she planned to visit an old student in D.C. and had given a later arrival date to her brother.

She was well acquainted with the bureaucracy of the Church and felt justified in excluding it. They would never agree to involve secular agencies or lay people any more than necessary in their concerns. She had seen no alternative than to reach out independently to her old student.

The local law enforcement agencies seemed hesitant to delve too deeply into the murder of a small orphan boy. Bureaucratic complications erupted all around. The Church, while not impeding the police investigations, made it clear that they wanted the matter closed, wanted the police to stop interfering with their autonomy and sticking their noses into their institutions.

The Lansing Police Dept and Ingram County Sheriff Department, as well as the Clinton County Sheriff Department had blurry jurisdiction and were simultaneously competing and trying to shove the investigation at each other.

Villa Cabrini Home for Boys had two acres in Ingram County and four acres in Clinton county. Arthur´s little dead body had managed to straddle both counties. The Michigan State Police wanted no part of a murder on Church grounds with its accompanying Catholic entanglements. Law enforcement was in a state of such confusion that Francesca had despaired of any chance that the killer would be caught.

The police in general were convinced that the murder had been an isolated and opportunistic crime and that the killer was long gone. Arthur had been known to explore at night, but not, Mother Francesca thought, in the middle of winter.

Finally, the child was a ward of the Church, not the state. If the Church did not press for results, the local police departments were not going to press themselves to solve it. Crimes were common and police were always overwhelmed with cases. That was the reality of the situation.

Monsignor Breenen had reassured her that God´s final justice could not be thwarted. This she believed, of course, but, coming from the Monsignor´s lips, she perceived it to be a lazy response by one who had lost compassion for his flock.

The Monsignor was, by reputation, a bitter and disappointed priest who waited only for retirement. A priest who somewhere along the way had lost touch with his purpose, lost touch in the joy of serving, lost touch with himself. No, Mother Francesca thought, I can´t wade through him. I´ll just quietly walk around him, what he doesn´t know, won´t bother him nor will he fell obligated to inform Bishop Powell.

*****************

Mother Francesca was very tired and her usual good temperament was taking a nap. D.C. was a crazy town and she was confused. She had started very early in the morning from Villa Cabrini and had been driven to a bus station in Lansing. She transferred in Detroit after an hour and a half layover and finally arrived in downtown D.C. at a little after two in the afternoon. She had eaten only a small cup of soup during her Detroit layover.

It was a overcast winter day, cold with gusting wind that seemed to penetrate her coat and rush up her skirts. The gutters were lined with black snow. A drearier environment, she couldn´t imagine. It seemed she had been walking for hours; she glanced at her watch and saw it was after five. She realized the light was beginning to fade, well she´d give it another half hour before she decided what to do. She trudged on, clutching her bag, uncomfortably aware that her stomach was complaining loudly.

Walter didn´t live in D.C. itself, but in one of the suburbs, Crystal City. She was having a hard time finding a detailed map of that particular suburb. She felt like Dorothy on her quest to the Emerald City, only someone had snatched away the yellow brick road! Normally, she would first go to a local convent or make contact with some religious ( many nuns now lived in apartments) and then let them show her the way, but she couldn´t report to a convent or contact any religious, she wasn´t supposed to be here.

She hesitated to take a cab because she did not know how much it would cost. Her funds were limited. So she kept on walking, asking directions when she felt comfortable to do so.

Finally, a police squad car pulled over, having evidently been notified of a lost nun, and gave her a lift to the address that was the return address that had accompanied a generous donation every Easter. Walter had sent a donation every year since he had left the school. Even when he was in Vietnam and in a VA hospital, he had sent a few dollars.

After thanking both the young policemen in the squad car and assuring them that this was the right place, Mother Francesca approached the tall building and opened the door. She suddenly was faced with a stern looking middle aged security guard. She reached into one of her cavernous pockets and withdrew an envelope with its return address and showed the security guard.

Max Wilson looked at the envelope and wondered if the nun thought it would do for I.D. Ah, she was showing Walter Skinner´s address. Well, so what? She could have typed that herself. He asked for I.D. Out came a laminated card with a photo. It identified Francesca Serrati as a Member of the Missionary Sisters of the Scared Heart.

ÝWell, Mr. Skinner wasn´t there, but Mr. Mulder was. He figured he´d just call up and let Mr. Mulder deal with her. As Max watched the red lights on the elevator ascend to the seventeenth floor, Max smiled as he remembered he forgot to mention that Francesca Serrati was a nun.

***************************

Fox Mulder quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt. He had just showered after a workout and had been all set to flop on the couch and watch one of his favorite movies while he waited for Walterës call. Who the hell was Francesca Serrati? He walked over to his desk and pulled out his gun and checked to make sure it was loaded and ready and then placed it behind a stack of magazines on an end table where he could grab it quickly.

She had asked for Badger and Max had said that she looked harmless. She claimed to be an old friend. Fox, using his endemic memory, was certain that Badger had never mentioned her. He was already at the door when he heard the knock.

Mulder opened the door and then opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The apparition of a tall nun in cascading black, looking at him with a look of total dismay, was a bit hard to respond to.

"Oh, you´re the wrong Walter Skinner!" Her hand quickly went back into one of her numerous pockets and retrieved the envelope she had showed the security guard and held it out to the damp young man who had opened the door. He took it automatically and examined it.

Mulder looked down at the crumpled paper. It was typed and addressed to ´ Villa Cabrini Home for Boys´ with Badger´s return address. Mulder recognized the name as the facility where his lover had grown up. He looked up at the nun and realized that inside of the habit was a very tired woman.

Mulder attempted a smile and opened the door wider, "Sister, please come in. Walter Skinner is out of town, but he´s on his way back. He should be arriving later this evening, probably around ten, if his plane is on time."

Mother Francesca smiled at her foolishness. Of course, this was the right place. However, Walter only communicated twice a year, he might have moved. She was grateful that that thought had never occurred to her until the possibility was disproved. She could only hope he was still with the FBI.

It had been impossible to call before she came. There was not enough privacy at the convent for such a call. It was over six miles to a pay phone and she didn´t drive. Up till now, there had never been a need to.

She looked around and sighting the many candles sitting here and there, smiled, yes, Walter lived here. She looked for any evidence that he had maintained his faith, but found none. She sighed, his yearly checks were enough to know that his heart was not cold, perhaps she had another reason to be where she was. She looked around to the young man who was looking somewhat perplexed as if he was wondering what he should do with her. It was at least three or four hours before Walter was due back.

She smiled at him and held out her hand, "I´m Mother Francesca Serrati; you may call me Mother Francesca."

Mulder reached out and took her hand and introduced himself, contributing his name only, and then asked if she had eaten. She wearily shook her head.

Over left-over tuna casserole and salad, she regaled Mulder with her odyssey. She smiled to her self, the tuna casserole was made exactly like that served at the school every Friday night.

She timidly confessed her illegal stop in D.C. and her bungling attempt to find Walter´s address. Mulder was smiling most of the time and laughed when she told him how she had been collected by the local police.

When they had finished eating, it was apparent to Mulder how tired the nun was. He offered her the use of a bed so she could rest and She gratefully accepted. He left her with a few political magazines and went to get the bed ready.

Mulder ran up to the master bedroom. They no longer had a guest bedroom, it had been made over into a small gym. The third bedroom had always been an office. It did have a couch, but he didn´t think it was polite to have a nun sleep on one.

Mulder hurriedly changed the sheets and left an extra coverlet on the bed so she could rest on top of the bedding. He filled a paper grocery bag with the contents of their bedside tables and rushed into the bathroom to gather their toiletries. He then looked around the room to see if anything hinted at their relationship. Nothing obvious, he finally concluded.

Mulder didn´t know how Badger would handle this, but he liked Mother Francesca and unbelievably, she had known his lover as a child. He wanted so badly to ask her about Badger, but not until he had the go ahead from the man himself. Finally Mulder headed downstairs, bag in hand.

Mulder grinned, he had never met a nun before. This one seemed special. She was bending the rules to visit with Badger, determined to peruse some secret agenda, a fugitive from her superiors, unable to check in with her colleagues, no wonder he felt a special kinship with her. He could relate to her quite well.

******************

Mother Francesca settled herself on the huge bed, grateful beyond words to be horizontal. Walter would listen to her and would make sure what could be done, would be done.

******************

The phone rang shortly after ten O´clock and Mulder quickly reached for it so it wouldn´t wake up Mother Francesca. First thing Mulder heard was Badger´s voice saying, "Missed you, come get me." Mulder loved Walter´s voice when it sounded like this, so much more satisfying than e-mail.

Mulder replied back, "Love you, missed you, can you get a cab? We have an unexpected house guest and I don´t want her to have wake up without someone here."

Mulder knew that Badger was trying to control the bark in his voice as he asked, "House guest? Who the hell are you talking about?"

Mulder smiled and said sweetly, "An old friend of yours. She turned up like a stray cat, cold and hungry."

When no more was forthcoming, Walter prompted in a low ominous tone, "Fox?"

Mulder quickly added, "She says she´s Mother Francesca Serrati. Her costume is quite convincing and she seems to be on a covert mission to see you. She´s here without permission, on the way to see her family in Baltimore."

"Good Lord!" was Walter´s whispered response. "I´ll be there soon. Love you." Walter hung up without waiting for Fox´s reply. What in world was going on?

He hadn´t seen Mother Francesca since he had last vacationed in Michigan, must be five or six years ago. Just a short visit. Over the years, he had exchanged Christmas and Easter cards with Mother Francesca, each inserting short notes. What could have happened?

Mother Francesca had been his ëhome´ mother. She had supervised the three years olds the year he had started Villa Cabrini and had followed his group until graduation. She taught high school history, both U.S. History and World History in the high school. She was the closest thing to a mother he had.

After his group´s graduation, she had rotated to a new group of three year olds. Her group, this year, would be seniors. She had written that she was excited that next year she would retire to permanent nursery duty while still teaching her high school classes. No more ëhome´ mother. She was looking forward to more time for research and various other pursuits. What was going on?

What had unset her world so much that she would abandon her seniors and jeopardize her future? She could be thrown out of the order for a stunt like this. He realized that his stomach was knotting. The only other person that could put him in such a state was Fox. What the hell was going on? He couldn´ t stop his mind from speculating as he flagged down a cab.

End of Chapter 1

~~~

Chapter 2

Mother Francesca opened her eyes, surprised she had fallen asleep. She glanced at her watch and was happy to see that it was just turning ten. She got up and went to the bathroom attached to what must be the master suite to freshen up. Coming back into the bedroom, she flipped on the light and looked around.

It was a simple bedroom, no designer furniture or expensive looking bedding. The walls were peppered with notes and charts and a large map of Michigan. She wondered what she was looking for. It was just a sense that she was missing something, and then it struck her.
 

The two sides of the massive bed were different. On one side, a book, a current mystery bestseller, was neatly placed on the night stand. The only other things on the night stand were a lamp and a water glass. On the other side there were a number of books and papers, haphazardly piled on the nightstand and a few were shoved under the bed. She had actually trod on a science fiction tome as she got out of bed. Along with the books, the night stand was cluttered with an array of this and that.
 

Walter´s last Christmas card had been signed Walter and Fox. She grimaced as she tried to remember. She had been so tired and hungry that she hadn´t taken it in, but didn´t the young man introduce himself as Fox Mulder? Fox? A nickname? Did she really hear; Fox?

Sudden understanding stiffened her posture; two people occupied this room, Walter and the young man down stairs. She waited out the jumble of emotions that tumbled through her. Finally, seeking calm, she kneeled beside the bed and wordlessly sought guidance. After a few minutes, Mother Francesca rose and reached for her veil.
 

The Missionary Sisters of the Scared Heart wore a simple habit. The sisters never cut their hair but wore a black bonnet that tied under their chins and sported a pouch at the nap of the neck to hold the hair. The veil was a large light piece of black translucent cloth that could be held in place by one large straight pin.
 

The veil was often taken off for activities such as cooking, washing and hanging cloths and gardening. It was a practical habit and Mother Francesca was grateful for that. She turned around and folded the coverlet and sat back down on the bed. Why was she thinking about her habit when there were more important things to think about?

Avoidance, of course. She sat down determinated to think things out. Walter was co-habituating with a man. Did that change Walter´s ability to help in Arthur´s murder? No. She would have been much happier if she had come to his home to discover a wife and family living in an obvious Catholic home. However, Walter´s home showed no evidence that he was a practicing Catholic. Had he always been attracted to males?
 

She tried to remember back to his teen years. In an all boy school, it was hard to know if a boy was developing normally. It was the priest´s responsibility to give the boys that kind of training. She could not remember anything that would have prepared her for this kind of eventuality.

Well, she firmly believed that God had brought her here, not to judge, but to seek help. She would accept and pray for Walter, no, pray for both of them. She decided that her prayers would have to be open-ended. She had no wisdom in these matters.

Her stream of consciousness was broken by the sound of the front door opening and muted voices. They were lovers and had been separated. She would give them a couple minutes before she went down but not long enough to decide to retire. She had to talk to Walter tonight. She had to get to Baltimore before noon tomorrow or her brother and nephew might get concerned and call the convent.

***************

Walter´s face lit up when Fox opened the door. He stepped in and, with a quick look around; making sure that the immediate area was sans nun, he grabbed Fox for kiss and hug. He had missed him so much, and from Fox´s response, Fox had missed him too. Regretfully, Walter pulled away.

"Where´s my run away nun?"
 

Mulder grinned, "Upstairs resting. She wandered around in some very nasty weather for most of the day. However, she wants to talk to you tonight. She has to be at her brother´s tomorrow or else sheëll probably be found out.

"

Walter shook his head and looked up the stair case, "What on earth could this be about?"

Fox pulled him further into the front room, "In a minute, let´s get you comfortable. Go to the gym, I´ve got some sweats and a tee-shirt in there for you as well as your shaving kit. I also have some slacks and one of your knit shirts in there if you want to be a bit more formal. Go clean up and I´ll start the coffee."
 

Fox paused and looked into Walter´s face and made eye contact, "Badger, do you want me to join you two or would you like me to go to bed? Oh, by the way, bed is our sleeping bags in the office.

"

Walter looked at his lover and marveled how he cherished this man. He had to temper and control his responses in public, but he was not about to do that in their own home for anybody, not even for Mother Francesca. If his read on her was right, she probably already knew. She was sharp, very sharp.
 

"Stay. No secrets, not in our own home. She came to me, and if I know her, it´ ll be O.K. She´ll respect our relationship even if she doesn´t quite agree with it.

"

They were interrupted by Mother Francesca´s voice from the top of the stairs. "Mr. Mulder, is that Walter?

"

Walter grinned, "She knows. If she didn´t she would have been down without a word. She´s always loved to sneak up on people." Walter turned his head towards the stairs, "Yes, Mother Francesca, I´m back. Come on down and get some coffee. I´m going to be just a minute and change.

"

***************************
 

Mulder was just finishing the preparations on the coffee when Mother Francesca made her appearance. He turned towards her and smiled, "It will be ready in just a few minutes." He turned and pulled three mugs down, set them on the counter and then turned to a cupboard and drew out a sugar container and a small bowl of Equal. Then he went to the fridge and pulled out some half and half.

Mother Francesca watched Mulder prepare the coffee things. He seemed like such a nice young man, so polite and sweet. He had been very gracious and evidently had reason to be a bit nervous. She decided to put him at ease.
 

"This is very nice. Shall we sit out here or in the living room?"

"Your choice, Mother Francesca."

"Why don´t we just sit at the kitchen table, that way, Walter can eat if he´ s hungry and I fell a bit steadier when I can lean my elbows on a table."
 

"That´s good, I´ve got some sandwiches made up for Walter, but there are plenty for all of us."
 

"That will be fine. Can I help with anything?"
 

"Na, nothing left to do, but wait for the coffee." Mulder was transferring the mugs to the table as he spoke. He turned around and took out three small plates and set them down on the table, then turned back to the frig to pull out the plate of sandwiches that he had prepared.
 

Mother Francesca took a seat, "Mr. Mulder, this is very nice. How long have you and Walter been together? Before Christmas, but not before last Easter. At Easter he signed his donation just, Walter. However, his last Christmas card was signed, Walter and Fox. The Fox must refer to you. I thought he had gotten a dog or something. Is that your nickname? Fox?"
 

Mulder started laughing and gasping for air. He couldn´t believe Walter had added his name to the card he sent Villa Cabrini. However, Walter had let them assume what they might. God, he loved that man. He finally sputtered, "No, Fox is my real name." After a few moments he got himself under control. Sobering up a bit he looked appraisingly at the nun. "Walter said you knew, he said you´d be down here sneaking up on us if you didn´t."

"Ah, yes, a little game I play with the boys."

"How did you know?"
 

Mother Francesca leaned back and grinned, "The two sides of the bed, two very different personalities, two different spatial environments."
 

Mulder nodded his head, Walter was right, she was sharp. "We got together last fall. Is this a problem for you?"
 

Mother Francesca shook her head. "I may be a bit uncomfortable. Ignorance is bliss, however, it is not my place to judge. You both are adults and I care for Walter a lot, and I like you. This is just new for me. I live a somewhat sheltered life at Villa Cabrini and although I know of such things, I´ve never had to interact with those involved, or, at least, I did not know I was interacting with such."
 

Mother Francesca shook her head and chuckled, "I´m getting lost in my own rhetoric. Do you work in law enforcement, also?"
 

Mulder nodded, "Yes, I´m an FBI agent."
 

Mother Francesca nodded soberly, "Good, you might be able to help with the problem I have brought to Walter."
 

At that moment, Walter walked in wearing the knit shirt and slacks that Fox had laid out for him. He went to the coffee pot which had just finished and came to the table and filled the three coffee mugs. He put the pot back and then took a seat and looked at Mother Francesca. "What problem could you have that required the attention of the FBI?"
 

Mother Francesca proceeded to tell them about finding little Arthur, the subsequent confused investigation, the church´s reluctance to push for a resolution and the muddled jurisdiction. Finally, she said that she was convinced that Arthur´s murder was related to a boy´s murder which had occurred in Gaylord, Michigan. The boy was a state ward in a foster home which housed nine children. It had been a farm of one hundred and sixty acres. The murder had taken place nearly four years before. She related how nobody would listen to her.
 

Walter and Fox had been listening intently when they realized the seriousness of why she had come.
 

"Mother Francesca, why do you think these murders are related?" It was Fox who asked the question.

Mother Francesca had been addressing her remarks to Walter and now turned to Fox. "It was the shoelaces.

"

Walter interjected, "Shoelaces?

"

Mother Francesca nodded her head. "Yes, the shoelaces weren´t there." She leaned forward trying to emphasize and make clear what she saying, "You see, Arthur was a crack baby and had a number of developmental delays. He was such a sweet child and needed a lot of affection and encouragement. He had a terrible time learning to tie his shoelaces. He struggled with his shoelaces since he was four. He had just learned a few weeks before. Mother Veronica let Mother Muriel, Arthur´s house mother, make an announcement and to request that we make a fuss over him for a while.

So for the last few weeks, every time I saw him, I would glance down at his tied shoelaces and commend him on how well he had tied them. When I found his body, his shoes were on, but the laces had been taken away. As far as I know, they weren´t found at the crime scene.

"

Mother Francesca stopped, distracted by her memories. Fox gently prodded her on, "And the other boy´s laces were gone as well?

"

Mother Francesca snapped back to the matter at hand. She nodded briskly, "Yes. We have a small cabin that is used as a retreat outside of Gaylord in a place called Johannesburg. Each nun in the order is scheduled for a personal retreat for a weekend, every year.

I was staying there when the child was found. He wa six year and had been was murdered. The foster family were Catholic and the foster father was away from home, in Detroit, for a farmer´s convention. The county sheriff, ah, Sheriff Barnes dropped by the cabin and asked if I could accompany the foster mother, Sarah, to the morgue to identify the body. The police were unwilling to wait for identification until the foster father returned home.
 

I did so. It was the first time I had ever been to a morgue. The little body looked so small on that huge metal table. The boy had not been totally undressed yet. He still had his shoes and socks on. He wascovered by a sheet, but for some reason it had been pulled up to the boy´s ankles. When they pulled down the sheet to reveal the boy´s face, I couldn´t look. I looked at the boy´s feet instead. He had on blue and white athletic shoes. I remember I found it was slightly curious that they had no laces. Later I learned he was found that way.
 

Nobody had put any significance to it, I didn´t either until I found myself starring down at Arthur´s body and found myself starring at his laceless shoes.

I called Todd's foster family. Sarah, his foster mom said that the laces had been mismatched. One was white and the other was navy blue. One of the original white ones had broken and all she had had left was a spare navy blue one. She never bothered to replace it because Todd had thought having two different colored laces was neat.
 

She didn´t think Todd would have taken the laces off. She thought the police had taken them off for some reason. It didn´t seem important enough to ask about."

Fox looked to Walter to see if this was enough to start an investigation. Walter gave him a slight nod.

Walter got up and gathered the sandwich plates and refilled the coffee mugs.

Walter sat back down and made eye contact with Mother Francesca.

"OK, Mother Francesca, I want you to go over everything again. I want you include everything you remember about Arthur. How he came to Villa Cabrini, if you know, and about his relationships with other kids as well as Mother Muriel."

Mother Francesca interrupted, "Walter, surely you don´t thinkÖ"

Walter impatiently shook his head, "Of course not Mother, the better we get to know the victim the better chance of finding the killer. We just want the most complete picture you can provide.

Also include all your impressions of Sarah and the household that Todd came from. Did you met the foster father? Did Sarah talk about Todd? What did she say.

Just talk and Fox will take some notes and then we´ll follow up with on site investigations."

*********************

5:30 AM

Mother Francesca was upstairs resting and Walter and Fox were going over the notes Fox had taken. Mother Francesca was detailed and insightful in her narrative, but nothing jumped out. She had not met Todd´s foster father nor had she been able to stay for the child´s funeral.

"What do you think, Fox. Is it a serial killer?"

Fox leaned back on the sofa and leaned his head back, "Yeah, I´m pretty sure of it. I need to get to Gaylord and to Villa Cabrini for the crime scenes. I need these first hand, pictures won´t do. I need the files and morgue pictures and a series of interviews.

We only have two potential murders, will Sikora go for this or can you authorize it?"

"I can authorize it, but if it comes to nothing, I´ll certainly hear about it. If your initial check turns up another murder, Sikora won´t say anything no matter how it turns out."

Fox sat up, "Well, that´s the first step. The guys and I can search and see if we come up with anything. Shoelaces are so trivial, their absence might not be mentioned."

Walter stood up, "What will be your initial parameters?

Fox stood up and stretched, "Well, at first I´ll stay with males, five to ten years, catholic, not living with their natural families, ah, some kind of care facility, and start with a fifty mile corridor of US 27. These might be too narrow. Even if I find a hit, we´ll start here."

Walter nodded his head, Fox was amazing, he had already put the start of the investigation together.

"Why the corridor for US 27?"

Fox grinned, "I´ve been looking at your map of Michigan in the bedroom too much. That highway runs just about the length of the state. It straight north and south, just too convenient not to use for a killer. Both Gaylord and Villa Cabrini are within ten miles of it."

"Good work, Agent Mulder. Let´s get breakfast going so I can get Mother Francesca to her family. Oh, did you get a hold of Frohike?"

Fox grinned and then chuckled, "Oh yeah, and he was non too happy about it."
 

End of Chapter 2

~~~
 

Chapter 3

6 AM Saturday Morning
Skinner´s and Mulder´s condo

"Walter, it is not necessary for you to drive me to Baltimore! You can drop me off at the bus station!"

Mulder had his back to the two and was grinning as he stirred up some scrambled eggs. He had never seen Badger trying to show such deference while trying to get his way. It was fun to listen to the two. They had been going on and on for the last half hour. The gal didn´t give an inch, unless she wanted to.

"Mother Francesca, please, I´d, ah, I´d like to talk a bit further with you. It´s only an hour drive or so."

"But you have to come back too. That makes it a long drive."

"I have books on tape, I´ll survive."

"OK, OK! Fox, will you be coming too?"

Mulder turned his head, "No, I want to start a bit of research here on the computer."

There was a knock on the door, "Badger, can you get that? That will be Frohike with the cell."

Skinner got up from the kitchen table and went to the door and opened it. Indeed, there was Frohike, looking a bit worse for wear in the early hours.

Skinner smiled, "Hi, come on in. Do you want some eggs, toast, bagels or anything?"

Only a low grumble of ëCoffee´, was audible as Frohike passed by.

When Frohike turned the corner entering the kitchen, he stopped short and blinked his eyes.

Mulder who was dishing out the eggs, smiled at Frohike. "Shut your mouth and sit down, Frohike. This is Mother Francesca Serrati of the Missionary Sisters of the Scared Heart. Mother Francesca, this is Melvin Frohike, a friend of ours."

Frohike straightened his posture, tugged at his shirt and cleared his throat. "HelloÖ"

"Hello, Mr. Frohike. I´m so glad to meet you."

Frohike sat down and laid a small package on the table and looked at Mulderës back.

"I picked up what you asked for. It´s a simple and dependable model. However, I do not understand why you insisted I bring it over at this absurd hour of the morning. I am not a morning person."

Mulder turned and smiled as he put a mug of coffee in front of Frohike.

"Here´s some coffee, you´ll live. The cell is for Mother Francesca and Badger is going to drive her to Baltimore this morning so her superiors don´t find out she´s AWOL."

Frohike grinned and turned towards Mother Francesca with added interest, "You´ re AWOL?"

Mother Francesca folded her hands in her lap and bent her head demurely, "Afraid so."

"Ah, well, let me show you what I brought for you."

Mother Francesca raised her head, "Walter, do you really want me to take this? It´s like taking contraband into the convent. I haven´t asked permission to have such a thing in my possession."

"Would permission be given?"

"No."

" Well, yes, I want you to have it and carry it until this investigation is over, if you are willing. Frohike will put it on a vibrator mode so it won´t ring. You can recharge it in your cell at night. I think it´s important to have an open and easy way to communicate with you."

Mother Francesca looked intently at Walter, "Why? I´ve told you everything I know and I can anticipate no further involvement with these events."

Walter shifted in his chair, "Mother Francesca, we might need to use you as a resource. I haven´t paid much attention to the church since I graduated and Agent Mulder is not Catholic. Agent Mulder´s partner is Catholic, but as a lay person, has little knowledge of Catholic bureaucracy and the hierarchy.

If we run into a situation where we need information or an opinion on something with a Catholic bent, we´d like to be able to tap into you as a reliable source. Then again, if no such situation arises, we won´t contact you."

Mother Francesca nodded her head, "I´m glad to help, Walter, but I can´t just whip out the cell phone when it vibrates."

"We´ll call not expecting you to answer and you can return the call after you put your kiddies to bed."

"OK, now how do I use this?" Mother Francesca was examining the cell phone closely. " If I wanted to answer it, how do you answer it? There´s no answer button."

Frohike´s eyes widened, "Ah, Mother??, ah, you press the ësend´ button." Realizing what a tech novice he had, Frohike proceeded in educating Mother Francesca on the use of the cell phone. Frohike was glad he had chosen an out of date one that was very simple and small enough for her to put in her pocket.

**********************

On the road to Baltimore 9:38 AM

Skinner was driving towards Baltimore with Mother Francesca sitting beside him. "Mother, I´m going to tape you this time." Skinner grabbed a portable cassette player from beneath his seat and handed it to her.

"I want you to close your eyes and go through it all again. Press the record button before you begin."

"Walter, again? This will be the fourth time. Why? You could have taped this on my second telling of it."

"Repeating an event brings more details into memory. Most of the time, the memories are irrelevant, but sometimes something significant surfaces. I´d have you tell it a few more times before I tape you if we had the time. Now, tell it again and just let it flow. Say anything that comes to mind."

"Oh, OK."

********************

Still on the road to Baltimore 10:20 AM

"We´re almost there. McKemey Drive is in Fell´s Point? The area that has all those made over warehouses?"

"Yes. Geno´s son and his family moved there two years ago. Anthony is my nephew and the place is large enough for his family and my brother, Geno, who is a widower."

Walter tossed aside a map, "Yeah, I can find it. You will call if you remember anything? You have both mine and Fox´s cell phone numbers?"

"Yes, yes, I will call. Will you call to keep me updated on your investigation once in awhile? It would reassure me."

"If you want, of course. Fox and Frohike will start with a data search to see if they can find similar cases. Frohike is very talented with computers and Fox is a very talented investigator and profiler."

Mother Francesca glanced uncomfortably at Walter, "Profiler, like on TV? You mean hunting serial killers and such?"

"TV profilers are not very realistic, but Fox is a profiler, he hunts serial killers and most of the time he catches them."

"Walter, do you really think Arthur´s murder, and Todd´s, was a work of a serial killer?"

"Fox is sure of it. If the two murders are related, there should be more victims. Four years is a long time between killings, but possible. A killer is given the label ëserial´ once there are three victims killed at different times. The label of ëmass murderer´ is given if a killer kills three or more people at one time."

Mother Francesca shook her head and looked down at her folded hands.

"All this is very grim. Labeling evil like cans of soup. I´m sorry; it´s just that it´s all so horrible! I saw the reality of evil in the remains of that little boy´s body. Such an innocent! A lamb! I cannot get the vision of that little boy´s crumpled abused body out of my head. How do you and Fox deal with all the destruction, all the evil?"

"We just do, because it´s necessary to stop the bad guys. It´s just that there is always a new supply."

"I have always prayed for you, prayed for all my boys, but for you and Fox, I shall increase my efforts. I have been so proud of your achievements, but I never considered what evil you had to fight against."

Walter was silent as they drove up to a made over warehouse on the harbor. Mother Francesca checked the address and nodded her head.

"This is it, Walter."

Walter parked the car and unloaded Mother Francescaës bag. While they were still on the sidewalk, a dark haired man in his late thirties emerged from the warehouse.

"Anthony! Dear one! You look fine. I am here as you see. This is Walter, one of my former students who took pity on me and drove me from DC."

Skinner took one look at ëAnthony´ and the only response that made any sense was "Ah shit!" Luckily, he stopped himself before he blurted it out.

Anthony looked at Skinner critically, he hesitantly held out his hand. Skinner took it and shook it quickly.

"Nice to meet you, Anthony. Are you set Mother Francesca? I´ll be off then."

Walter quickly got into his car and waved as he made an illegal U-Turn and was gone.

Anthony Serrati frowned as he watched the Ford Taurus pull away. It couldn´t be him!

"What did you say your friend´s name was?"

"Oh, Walter, Walter Skinner."

Anthony gulped; his only response ricocheted in his head.

"Ah shit!"

*******************

Skinner drove out of Baltimore shaking his head, Anthony Serrati !!! Of all the gin jointsÖetc. etc. Of all people to bump into! Well, I wonder if he´s remembered yet. Maybe, just maybe, he wonët Iëve changed a lot, a lot more than him. I lost most of my hair, I´m a lot bigger. Good God, that was twenty-three years ago.

I remember because Tony my first sexual experience. Skinner grinned as he remembered that wonderful summer weekend. Stealing bits of time in the afternoon to run off into the wood and the middle of the night rendezvous in a moonlit meadow. He had given joyfully given away his virginity, his innocence to Tony on that weekend. There had been nothing they hadn´t done to each other.

Tony had been visiting the Villa Cabrini on that weekend, staying in the senior dorm. He was on his way to a college orientation before classes began. It had been glorious! It had been perfect. It was a cherished memory, hidden away. Now it was threatened by reality. Shit!"

Skinner knew he was not Tony´s first, he had probably just a boy to pass a boring weekend. Tony probably won´t remember. I remember because one doesn´t forget their firstÖnot exactly love, but first time partner.

Tony had seemed so mature and experienced to the fourteen year old Walter. Hell, Tony had been an ancient seventeen a soon to be college man. Skinner had been so impressed that Tony was heading off into the world.

Walter never knew that Tony was related to his ëhome mother´, Mother Francesca. Ah, shit! If he had known! He was uncomfortable thinking that he´d been intimate, very intimate, with her nephew. All in the family, ah shit! Oh well, Mother Francesca said that he now had a familyÖwhat did that matter? He had been fucked and had fucked what amounted to his cousin! No, that´s not really true, but for right now that´s how it felt.

He glanced down at his speedometer and lifted his foot off the accelerator. He wanted to get back to Fox and his home, couldn´t get there quick enough, but he decided he´d rather get home in one piece.

*********************

Skinner´s and Mulder´s condo 12:38 pm

Walter let himself in with his key and looked around for Fox. Not seeing him, he called out.

"Hi, Baby. Did you deposit Mother with her relatives all right? Frohike went home to start the guys on some data bases. Want to reheat some stew or do you want to order out? Good grief! Whatës up? You look like youëve seen a ghost."

Walter wearily sat down, "Well, sort of, and let me tell you, I ran like hell."

Fox sat down next to him and put his arm around him. "What are you talking about? Come on, give."

Walter snuggled closer to Fox and wrapped his arm around Fox´s waist.

"I dropped off Mother Francesca at her nephew´s home. Her brother, a widower, lives there too. I drove up and her nephew came out and I jumped into the car and drove away as fast as I could. I hope I said good-bye. I think I did. You know, he probably didn´t even remembered me."

"An old lover?"

"My first, and I never, never knew he was related to Mother Francesca. He visited Villa Cabrini for a weekend and was put in the senior dorm. He was going to college to be a teacher. He was only there for two days! I don´t think he learned a lot about Villa Cabrini, but he sure as hell learned a lot about me."

"Your first? You´ve got to be kidding! And Mother Francesca´s nephew, no less. How old were you?"

"Fourteen."

"Good Grief! Fourteen! Preconscious werenët you. You must have been adorable! How old was he and who went after whom?"

"He was seventeen and he was looking at me in a way that, well, excited me. It didn´t take much at that age. I looked back. He suggested a walk in the woods. I don´t exactly know who jumped who. He was experienced so he must of given me an opening."

"You were still pretty young."

"He never asked me how old I was. I was tall for my age so he might have taken me for older. I was more than cooperative, I was eager."

"Is your first time memory tarnished now that you´ve seen him again. Is he pot-bellied and bald?"

Skinner grinned, "Ah, no, he´s fit and handsome. I´m the one that´s bald."

"Shit. Badger, did he reawaken any doormat yearnings?"

"Only to get home to you as fast as I could."

Fox leaned in and started biting and nipping Badger´s neck, "God, you must have been adorable. I wish I could have been there."

May I remind you that when I was fourteen, you would have been six. I wouldn´ t have impressed you."

"Maybe seven depending on the time of year. Bet it was summer, then I would have been seven and don´t forget that I was adorable too."

Walter chuckled and gave Fox a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I have no doubt you were!" Walter sobered a bit as he continued.

"Mother Francesca said he had a family. I hope he´s not one of those two-timing assholes that hang out at gay bars."

Fox hugged him closer, "Na, I don´t think so. I did a light back ground check on all the Serrati´s living there. Anthony Serrati is a special education teacher, who specializes in teaching kids with learning disabilities. He seems solid. He has a good work record, married sixteen years with three children. All seem healthy, well-adjusted kids.

Mary Serrati is a physical therapist who works with children from birth to three years. She works at a clinic and makes house calls to teach parents to work with their kids.

The family takes regular vacations. Credit slips indicate Anthony and Mary like to eat out once or twice a week. They met for lunch at least once a week. The family likes live theater and hiking.

Their last family vacation was to Archlands National Park and Canyonlands National Park. They camped. I didn´t find any shadows. You know slight indications that things are not what they seem.

Geno is a retired city employee and plays the lottery, five dollars a week, and hangs out at a neighborhood bar called Harborview. He´s hung out there for the last forty years. Spends about fifteen dollars a week on beer and pool.

I didn´t find any shadows that any of them are anything but what they seem.

There was no indication that Anthony is gay. Iëll dig a bit deeper, but most of his time is accounted for and thereës no paper trail to suggest side activities."

Walter nodded his head and pulled Fox around to him, "God, I missed you. Let´ s drop it for now, I´ve better ideas on what to do."

"What? Lunch?" Fox asked innocently.

Walter got up and dragged Fox along with him and drew him into a tight embrace and caught his mouth in a passionate kiss. Fox´s last coherent thought was that they weren´t going to make it to the bedroom this time. He was right.

End of Chapter 3

~~~
 

Chapter 4
 

Aunt Francesca and Mary were chatting in the kitchen doing the after dinner clean-up. Uncle Geno had gone to the bar and the kids were all industriously occupied with homework. Tony Serrati was apparently absorbed with watching the news. All appeared peaceful, except Tony´s insides were quaking. It had been the kid from Villa Cabrini.

Tony had been reared in Catholic schools which followed the belief that separating the sexes kept the boys pure. It had been a failure with him. If girls weren´t available, there were a number of boys who experimented with each other. A few that even knew a lot about what they were doing.

He had had plenty of ësex´ since he was fifteen. Between classmates and summer counselors, he had gained a lot of experience. He had never thought himself as gay, nor did any of his classmates, at least that he knew about. This was just what you did if you wanted to have sex and be sexually experienced. He had never done it with any of the ësissy´ boys.

There was a two tier hierarchy at school and even at summer camp. The boys stayed with the boys and the ëgirls´ had to make do with the ëgirls´, of course there was an occasional ëgirl´ that passed as a boy. That was OK as long as the other boys didn´t catch on. He grimaced when he remembered the stupidity and callousness of the adolescent standards. It was incredible that his group had found a way of branding the sissy boys for doing exactly what they, themselves were doing.

Between school and summer camp, he hadn´t been around any girls his own age until he went to college. Once he had been exposed to girls, there had been no conflict about who to date.

He had dated for a year before meeting Mary and then that was that. He fell in love and was still in love.

He knew that his adolescent sexual activities had left him slightly bent. He didn´t have the abhorrence that some of his male acquaintances seemed to have at the thought of men having sex with men. He also knew that occasionally he would pull out one of his younger self experiences to use as a fantasy when he was left on his own. His weekend with Walter had been a favorite.

While he could appreciate a male in a sexual context, he had never been tempted to cheat. Once he had committed to Mary that was it.

Tony´s father, Vic, had been a ëladies´ man´ and had had no sense of the pain his selfish philandering had done. Tony had vowed never to be like him and by a determination of will he had made his commitment to his wife and family a non-negotiable.

Mary was equally committed to family and their marriage was central to their lives. Each committed fully and happily. They had no secrets, both had shared their sexual and emotional pasts.

And now this. This what? The poor guy had run like a bat out of hell. How unreal to see the man the boy had become. However, no amount of added muscle nor the loss of that wispy hair could change those eyes and that nose and those lips, ah, that face. God! His face had finally matured enough to fit those glasses.

How many years? Good God! Why was he finding this so unsettling? Must be because one of my favorite fantasies has been trashed? Na, just that bumping into an ancient lover so unexpectedly and finding him still very handsome was disturbing.

Wonder what he does? Did he serve in Nam? Does he still like boys? Did he ever marry or find somebody to love? Why any of this should be important to him he couldn´t say, but it was important to know that that the beautiful boy from years ago was happy.

He´d talk to Aunt Francesca and see how much she knew about him. God, he´d been in her home dormÖmust have been younger than I thoughtÖthirteen or fourteenÖGod let it be fourteen.

Tony continued to have thoughts such as these whirling in his brain with out a lot of common sense to latch on too. It was the first time that he had ever had a chance encounter with an old lover, well sexual partner, ah more than that, he had really liked the boy.

****************************

The Condo 7Am

"Scully, we leave tomorrow. We´re going to Graylord, Michigan. I need you for your diplomatic skills and for your forensic expertise."

Fox pulled the phone away from his head and let her express her opinions on their travel plans.

When he could hear a break in her comments, he quickly started talking.

"Scully, I´m sorry about your date with Sam K. I think we might have a serial out there hunting little boys. I need you to check over the autopsy reports and talk to the M.E.s."

Scully was still complaining, but that was just what she did when confronted with a change in her routine. Once she was done, then she dove right in. Fox gave her two minutes then interrupted her.

"Take today off and get packed. I´m working from home today. Don´t forget your rosary! Bye!"

With that he hung up and turned back to the computer. He flipped through reports and then stopped and frowned. Tommy Lenton, five years old. Raped and strangled. Left in a cabbage field. No mention of shoelaces. This was seven years ago. The killing had taken place in the township of Bath. If this was related, it would predate the killing in Gaylord. Fox reached for the phone and dialed the number for the Clinton County Sheriff.

The Clinton County Sheriff had been polite and helpful and had given Fox the name of the lead investigator, a deputy sheriff who lived in Bath and was still in office.

******************

Cash David, named for the great Johnny Cash, had been a deputy sheriff of Clinton County for ten years. He lived in the little township of Bath, that in recent years had been more or less taken over by East Lansing.

Bath now sported an elevated portion of the Webster Road interchange that rose over the Pleasant Hill Cemetery on Webster Road. The graveyard was no longer pleasant and certainly not peaceful. Those who visited the gravesites had the muted roar of cars traveling over head to disturb their thoughts. The noise from the traffic was loud and more or less continuous.

Cash´s young wife and the baby that had died with her were buried there. He seldom went there. It was not a place that he was able to contemplate their loss. He went there only once each season to make sure the grave was tidy. Just one grave among rows and rows of David´s. He also checked on the grave of the little boy, Tommy Lenton, who had been murdered near by. A little nobody. Cash had always felt a tinge of guilt for not being able to solve that murder and for not being able to get any of the other agencies interested enough to try.

There had only been two murders in Bath in the ten years that Cash had been deputy. Alice David had been beaten to death by her alcoholic husband, Matt David. That was easy enough to solve. And the murder of little Tommy Lenton.

Many of the dirt roads in Bath had been paved and they even had a Seven-Eleven. The heart of the little hamlet was only six miles from East Lansing. Bath no longer knew what it was exactly.

Cash had lived through these changes and was not totally comfortable with them. But his family had lived here for over a hundred and fifty years. Before the ëexpansion´ almost half the town was made up of Davids of one sort or another.

Bath´s only claim to fame was that of a notorious tragedy. On May 18, 1927, a dynamite blast torn through an entire wing of Bath School. Thirty-nine children and teachers were killed and dozens more were injured.

As frantic townspeople ripped through the rubble, another blast blew up a pick-up truck parked out front, killing the diver and four by standers, including the superintendent of the school, a student and two towns people. The bomber had taken his own life and four more innocents with him.

The driver, Andrew Kehoe, was an embittered school board member. His position was that of treasurer and he was resentful of the decision of the school board for higher taxes for school construction. He, himself, was facing the foreclosure of his farm and had decided to get back at the town through its children. After the dust had cleared, forty-five people had died and many dozens were injured.

It was soon known as the Bath School Disaster. It had made the national news and knocked Charles Lindbergh´s transatlantic flight off the front pages for a few days.

Michigan´s governor, Fred Green, created the Bath Relief Fund. It was nation wide and cash and sympathy rolled in from the entire country.

The children of Michigan collected pennies. The pennies were melted down and then an University of Michigan artist named Carleton Angell sculpted the statue of a little girl holding a kitten in the wind, creatively named Girl with Cat.

Michigan Senator James Couzens gave generously to rebuild the wing of the school that was destroyed. On August 18, 1929, the repaired school and statue of the child was dedicated to "Our living youth´.

The James Couzens Agricultural School was a two story brick monstrosity and caped with a white cupola which could be seen for miles. The cupola survived the mad man´s blast and became a local landmark.

The James Couzens Agricultural School served the community, first as facility for the entire school, then a small high school was built, then an elementary school. Up to 1975, the James Couzens building was used as the middle school.

In 1975, it was determined that the James Couzens building was unsafe and unable to be repaired. It was torn down. Now in the middle of town there was a Bath School Disaster Memorial and the cupola of the old building. A strange sight, if one didn´t know what it was.

At the time of the Disaster there were only 104 students in the Bath school system. There were families who lost children and also lost the continuation of their families. Their last names were no longer heard in Bath.

Many of the Children were buried at Pleasant Hill, little Tommy Lenton was buried near two of them. Funny that he would be thinking of Tommy Lenton. Must be time to visit Sharon and baby Grace´s grave and Tommy Lenton´s too.

The phone rang in the little sub-station in downtown Bath and Cash reached over and picked it up and was more than surprised to find himself talking to an FBI agent.

*******************

The Condo

"Scully, change in plansÖwe´re headed to Lansing, Michigan. We´ll connect from Detroit. There´s a small airport in Lansing and the Lansing Bureau will pick us up."

Scully was busy commenting again. Fox was e-mailing Badger at his office on the latest possibility.

"Scully, I´m faxing over the information of the third possible. Just go over it. I´ll see you tomorrow."

As soon as Fox hung up the phone, it rang. He picked it up and heard his lover ´s voice, completely in professional A.D. mode.

"Hello, Agent Mulder. How sure are you of the Bath victim?"

"About eighty per-cent. He fits the major criteria. The boy was five years old and he was a orphan who lived with his aged grant grand mother. The state was investigating and was considering taking the boy because of neglect due to the advanced age of the child´s caretaker. The family was Catholic, but didn´t attend church. Bath is right off of US 27. The boy was found out in the open, ah, in a cabbage field. He was sodomized and strangled.

I´m going to have Scully compare the similarities or differences in the strangulation method of the three boys. There was no mention of shoelaces, but the deputy sheriff, ah, Cash David, kept the evidence bag and that contains the clothes. I asked him to wait until I got there to reopen it. It will preserve the evidence chain better."

"Good thinking. Consider your 302 approved. Have you made travel arrangements?"

"Yup, we´re all set. Flying to Detroit and then to Lansing. Agent Mullin of the Lansing Bureau will pick us up."

"Excellent. We´ll complete the preparation over dinner tonight. Is that agreeable, Agent Mulder?"

"Yes, Sir."

*************************************

The Condo After dinner

Walter was bringing two large glasses of ice tea into the living room. They had set up work on the large coffee table. Walter had always liked sitting on the floor and working at it and Fox had sort of taken up the habit.

Walter set the glass down near Fox and gave him a kiss on the head, "God, I hate to be separated from you this soon after the last time."

Fox looked up, "Yea, just a bit of bad timing. Maybe you can fly out this weekend. Help me keep my head on straight."

"What about Scully? Won´t she think it´s strange to have the DA traveling for this kind of case. Usually, I don´t budge except for high level on-going hostage cases."

Fox sat back and leaned against the couch. "She´ll wonder, but I need you, Badger. I lose my balance when we´re separated for too long. This is going to be hard, I can feel it. I don´t want to be away from you too long."

Walter came around the coffee table and took Fox into his arms. He knew what Fox had said was not easy for him to say, to admit. The younger man had started to look lost as he put his need into words.

"I´ll be there. I´ll arrange it with Director Sikora. It´s amazing how much work I can get done without all the meetings. Just me, my cell and my lap top. I have to be here through Thursday, barring any emergency, I´ll fly out Friday and stay through Sunday. I´ll come every weekend until you´re ready to come back."

Fox snuggled into that magic place in Badger´s neck and Badger heard his muffled voice, "I´m sorry, I´m so needy, but I don´t think I can make it without you, not on a case like this."

"Fox, I can´t tell you how wonderful it makes me feel to know you can tell me that you need me. It means a lot to me. I love you, so much!"

Fox snuggled closer, "What about Scully? I think we need to tell her. If we mention the Director knows, I think the most we´ll get from her is a few of her ´looks´. It will save her time from her match-making activities, at least those concerning me. Did you know that Dr. Sam of John Hopkins, her latest boyfriend, has not one, but three eligible sisters who would be willing to try out an FBI agent? Our little office has gotten a bit tense at times."

"Three sisters?"

"Huh huh, three. Not to mention four cousins."

"OK, we tell Scully. How about at breakfast tomorrow. You tell her and I´ll come in for the finale. I get out of my first meeting at 8:45. How about Vickie´s?"

"Ok, I´ll have Scully meet me there at 8. For breakfast she´ll be at least 20 minutes late."

"Give her a quick call and then go over what you´ve got."

*****************************

Walter laid in the dark with his body wrapped around his lover. He didn´t want to miss a moment before Fox would be airborne and flying away from him.

He bent his head so it rested on Fox´s shoulder. How well they fit together. How blessed they were to have found each other. Tonight had been a major step forward in their relationship. Fox had asked for his support. Fox had admitted that he needed him.

They had gone through fire in their young relationship. Walter had always been there as Fox stumbled through the terrors of his childhood dumped into the present by idiots trying to recreate Nazi experiments to lengthen life spans at the cost of innocent children. They had hardly time to breath. Fox had leaned on him, but once the crisis was over, Fox had tried to distance himself. Had tried to gain a bit of independence and to reestablish his self reliance. It had been a painful and rocky time.

Walter had had his own limits tested. His personal barriers invaded by Fox´s need and the temptation to rebuild those barriers and retreat behind them had been tremendous.

Marcus Gabbowski, their FBI shrink and personal friend had not allowed that to happen. Grueling counseling sessions had forced them to blend their needs and keep hold of one another. Love and common sense, really. But it was frightening how insecurity, misunderstanding and doubt could blind one.

Walter inhaled the scent of his lover. For a moment he felt almost overwhelmed by the joy that they were growing into a deeper love. He closed his eyes and concentrated on feeling Fox´s body spooned against his. Walter enfolded him firmly and gently and said a prayer of thanksgiving. Mother Francesca´s influence, no doubt.

End of Chapter 4

NOTE: The Bath School Disaster is a true historical event. Information presented is accurate. If interested, there are at least two web sites. Key Word: Bath School Disaster or Bath Schools Michigan.

Continued in Chapter 5

~~~
 

Chapter 5
 

HOOVER BUILDING
X-Files Office
6:57 AM

Scully leaned back and stretched. She had just finished all her reports for Dr. Kasdan, her boss at Quantico. Kasdan was getting a bit prickly lately. He didn´t want to share her with the X-files. He was starting to give her more work than her part time status called for.

If a full time position because available in the X-files she would jump at it. Quantico was becoming more unattractive with every trip there. She would be giving up her chance to be chief, but she decided she probably would not get it and she really didn´t want it. She liked the X-files, she even liked Mulder and Skinner was fair boss.

She had already talked to Skinner about it and he had said he would lobby to get her a full time assignment to the X-files. Mulder had even written a recommendation for her.

Kasdan had evidently caught wind of her plans and was going to make her pay for it as long as he could. She had tried to maintain good relationships with her other co-workers, knowing she would still be doing work there. It seemed to be working. She had an information network that kept her informed of Quantico gossip.

She had inadvertently learned a lot about Patterson and the ICU. It was said to be a hell hole for the more talented profilers. Purgatory for the merely competent. Patterson pitted them against each other and pressured them to get results.

However, Patterson´s profilers were not doing so well lately. It seemed they didn´t have Spooky Mulder to lean on anymore. It was rumored that a question here, an insight there would put numerous profilers on the right path. No credit was ever given to Spooky, of course, and now his absence was telling.

For a time, profilers had been constantly calling the X-files office for Mulderës insights and begging for him to work on various profiles. Mulder had quit taking the calls. Patterson had fumed and insinuated that Mulder didn´t care about the murder victim and that Mulder just about his monsters. Patterson spread his venom about Mulder to anybody who would listen.

However, there wasn´t much Patterson could do except slander Mulder and the X-files. The director firmly supported Mulder and the X-files and Mulder´s work as a field profiler for VCU. Sikora would not listen to Patterson´s rants.

Scully was very pleased that the time she needed to spend at Quantico was minimal.

She put her Quantico files away and reached for the X-file stuff. She had a better attitude towards investigative research now that she had decided that this is where she wanted to be. That and the results of their unofficial case in California with Bio-link and all those kidnapped children that had been used for experimentation. She felt herself shudder. Those tanks and to think that MulderÖ

She sat up straighter and opened the nearest file. Her job was to log on the internet and check through Michigan law enforcement agencies for murders of young boys. Mulder had given her the parameters. They were looking for another murder victim to make it an official serial murder case.

She had three messages and opened her mail. Three crime reports. She downloaded them and sent them to Mulder´s computer.

Mulder stepped in the office and looked at her in surprise.

"What are you doing in the office so early? Breakfast is not until 8."

Scully grimaced, "Kasdan wanted the reports done my autopsy reports done by 7am today. Kasdan does not consider work in the X-Files or VCU or the travel required any excuse for not keeping up with my share of work. Let me tell you, his idea of half-time is closer to full-time."

Mulder grinned, "That Kasdan is really turning into a prick, isn´t he?"

Scully made a face, "Kasdan has always been a prick, but he´s currently irritated at the thought that he has a half-time employee. He feels he´s being gypped. After all, I used to be all his."

Mulder bent over her slightly and whispered in her ear, "Scully, maybe you should remind him you now wear a gun."

Scully laughed and looked up at him. "What brings you down here so early?

"Just picking up some files and downloading some background information. Have you got any responses yet?"

"Yeah, three just came in. They´re on your computer."

Mulder went around to his desk and turned his computer on. He downloaded the files and sent them to his home computer and copied them on a disc so he could study them on his lap top. Both Skinner and he had secured computers. It made it possible to spend a bit more time working at home.

Mulder looked over at Scully and wondered how she would react to what he would tell her over breakfast. He realized that he didn´t know her as well as he had thought. Her main objection might be religious. If so, he might ask her to talk to Mother Francesca.

Scully and him had been partnered only six months and had never really talked explicitly about religion. He didn´t know how serious she was about it. She did wear a small gold cross, but many people wore religious jewelry without a deep commitment to any religion.

Scully looked up, "Do you want to run to breakfast now?"

Mulder sat down at his computer, "Not yet, Scully, I´ve got some reports to finish, it will take about an hour. Do you mind?"

"Na, I´ve got some work I can do. Kasdan will be shocked to see I´m a bit ahead, at least until tomorrow. He won´t be happy I´m not here tomorrow, I was scheduled to do three autopsies. Routine stuff. He might have to do them himself. Funny how that brightens my day."

*******************

Vickie´s 8:20 AM

Vickie´s was a small restaurant inconspicuously tucked into a set of buildings three blocks from the Hoover building. It had a small courtyard which was used in good weather. Inside, there was room for about thirty people.

It was ran by an Viet Nam vet and his Vietnamese wife and their six children. Between them they kept the restaurant open seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day. Their patrons were made up of the workaholics in downtown DC. The place was never empty.

Mulder and Scully came in chilled from their short walk and took a table in the corner. After their food was delivered, Scully decided it was time to hear whatever Mulder had on his mind. She had no doubt something was on his mind, his glances in the last hour in the office were obvious enough.

"OK Mulder, what´s this all about?"

Mulder took a sip of his coffee and set his cup down carefully. He was not as sure now as he had been at home last night. He knew he was always surer of everything when he was in Badger´s arms.

He pulled himself together. He liked Scully and didn´t want her to disappear back to Quantico, however, if they were going to be working closely together, she had to know.

"Ah, you asked for the background on this new case. We now have three possible murders of small boys. The first possible dates back seven years. Just found it last night. The other two possible were brought to my attention by a friend of Skinner.

The source is Mother Francesca, a nun, ah, the order of Missionary Sisters of the Scared Heart. She teaches at a boy´s home in Michigan where Walter grew up. She came to see Walter because she used to be his home ´mother´ and knew he was in the FBI. She wasn´t satisfied with the local law enforcement efforts."

Scully´s eyes widened a bit when she heard Mulder use the AD´s first name.

"Ah, I was there because, ah, I´ve been living in the condo with Walter. Ah, we love each other."

Scully sat very still. She couldn´t be hearing what she was hearing.

"What are you saying, Mulder? Are you out of your mind? Do you want to get kicked out of the FBI? Are you saying you´reÖgay? Are you saying Skinner is gay? Are you saying? What are you saying!!!?"

Mulder sighed, he hated having to explain, having to defend, hell, he wasn´t going to defend. But this was Scully, he would be carefully polite.

"Yes. We both are gay. The bureau always knew about me. Director Sikora knows about Walter, knew about him from Nam. Director Sikora knows about us. His attitude is as long as its not a problem for him, he won´t make it a problem for us. I´m telling you because we´ll be working closely together, especially when you start full-time. I don´t want to have to be that careful around you."

"How long?"

Mulder sat up and stretched back shoulders, struggling to bury his resentment at her cross-examination. It wasnët her business, it wasnët anybodyës business. Why did it matter? He knew he was being unreasonable, but he started to feel angry that he had to ëconfess´ in order to be able to work with her.

She certainly didn´t have to get his approvable to date Dr. Sam K. No, he didn ´t need her approval. He wasn´t telling her because she was a friend, but because he wanted some freedom in working with her. All he needed was her acceptance.

"Since the night I got beat up last fall. It´s not a casual relationship. I trust you will keep it to yourself. I understand if you decide you´re too uncomfortable to work for me and Walter."

Just then Skinner entered the restaurant and looked for Mulder and Scully. He walked over and took a seat next to Mulder.

Walter gave his order for coffee and looked expectedly at Mulder.

"Ah, I just told her."

Skinner nodded and looked at Scully. Scully sat uncomfortably aware that both of them were waiting expecting her to speak.

"I don´t know what to say. I never suspected, I mean you maintain your distance in the office. We´ve had plenty of meetings, I can´t believe I didn´ t catch on."

Skinner nodded as the waitress brought his coffee. He took a tentative sip of his coffee, "Agent Scully, it is imperative that Agent Mulder and I maintain a professional relationship at work. I am, after all, his superior. Director Sikora would never allow any of his agent´s personal life to interfere with work."

Scully nodded. "Why did you both feel I had to be told? I think I would have rather been ignorant."

Mulder smiled, "Ignorance is bliss theory of interaction? We´re telling you because soon you´ll be working full time on the X-files and we will probably need to meet together to work out of the office. The logical place is the condo. We have secured computers. We just can´t pretend all the time. I donë t want to."

"Who else knows?"

"Just the Director, Sid Stein and Marcus Gabbowski at the bureau, the Lone Gunmen and now Mother Francesca. I think Amos Keswick has guessed, but he´s in California and would never say anything."

"OK. Well, congratulations. I can´t say I understand, but then that´s hardly necessary is it? I don´t see why I can´t work under these conditions, after all, I´ve more or less been working under them for the last few months.

Did you say full time soon? I sure would like to get out from under Kasdan. He ´s giving me enough work for a full time employee."

Skinner smiled, "The funding came through. The Fed Kid case closed an impressive number of files. The powers that be were impressed. If you want it, you will be full time in two weeks."

Scully smiled, "I want it. Oh, ah, you probably don´t know, but I´m close to being engaged. You remember Sam Kasahara? You know from the doctor from John HopkinsÖI don´t like keeping secrets from somebody that I´m probably going to marry."

Skinner looked a little uncomfortable. Mulder looked at Scully.

"Scully, you don´t have to keep secrets. If he asks, tell him. Why don´t you just take a ´don´t ask, don´t tell´ tack for now. He´s in Baltimore and you´ re not married yet. The tighter the circle, the more comfortable we are. We´ re still pretty new in this relationship, we don´t need the worry."

Scully nodded, "Ok, I can understand that, but I won´t lie to him but I won´ t bring it up in casual conversation either."

Skinner stood up, "Well, that´s settled. Let´s get going. It looks like it´s going to get nasty out there. Letës get back to the Hoover to pick up your bags and Iëll drive you out to the airport."

Scully´s mouth set in a hard line. She didn´t like to be a ëthat´ that had to be settled. She didn´t appreciate the situation she had been put in. Be OK with it or what? Well did it really make a difference? She was not happy, but what could she do? Just let it play out. She liked Skinner and she liked Mulder, the idea of them together she wasn´t too sure of. How open were they going to be in her presence? She started getting mad all over. How dare they dump this on her!

She silently fumed all the way to Lansing. Mulder didn´t notice, he was bent over his laptop and immersed in the reports she has isolated for him.

**************

Bath, Michigan

Cash David spread the contents of the evidence bag on his desk. An old tattered coat, tee-shirt, jeans, boxers, sock and shoes.

"There´s not much here. I remember there were some rocks in his pocketÖoh, here they are."

Mulder picked up the shoes one at a time. "Sheriff, where are the shoelaces?"

Cash looked at the FBI agent uncertainly, "Ah, there aren´t any."

"The grandmother, I assume is dead. Do you remember Tommy running around in shoes without laces?"

Cash shook his head. "I hardly knew the boy existed before he went missing. His parents were killed in a car wreak in Alpena. The aunt, ah, sister of the father didn´t want the boy and dropped him off with grandma. The boy had been here about six months before he was murdered. It was two days before grandma got word to us."

"Two days!"

"Yeah, the Lenton farm was pretty isolated. The land had been sold off to other farmers, but the house was in the middle of no where. No phone, no running water. Lizzie Lenton was ninety-three years old when that witch of an aunt dropped off the boy.

Neighbors would drop by once in a while to see everything was all right and to make sure she had enough water in the house. Once the boy arrived, one neighbor, Pasty Bell, made sure to drop by a couple of times a week. She was the one who notified the Welfare people.

It was Pasty Bell who notified me about the boyës disappearance, poor Lizzie was beside herself. She died shortly after Tommy´s body was found."

Mulder nodded his head and carefully put back the pitiful little pieces of clothing. He looked at the shoes. The boy was found in February but had been wearing ordinary athletic shoes.

"Why wasn´t he wearing boots?"

Cash looked at the FBI agent, he didn´t know what to think of him yet. "Probably because he didn´t have any. The aunt didn´t bring much of anything with her. We found only a couple of tee-shirts and some underwear and one other pair of jeans at Lizzie´s house. There were no toys, no personal belongings that we could find. Tommy´s parents were poor, but not that poor. The aunt just didn´t bother."

Mulder nodded his head again. "What´s the aunt´s name and where is she living now? Do you know? I´d like to know why she didn´t want the boy?"

Cash David leaned back, he was starting to like this guy. Not the conceded egotistical jerk he was expecting. The last guy from the FBI that he had talked to at a crime prevention convention had acted like he thought anybody in local law enforcement was defective.

"Her name, seven years ago, was Dixie Barnes. She was living in Alpena, working at a hotel or motel. I don´t know about her now."

"I´ll find her. Can we go out to the dump site."

"What, after all these years?"

Mulder smiled, "Its just how I work. I like to see where the killer dumped the body, maybe work out why."

Cash got up, "Sure, Its not far, I´ll drive us out there. *****************

On the Road

In just five minutes they were close to the cabbage fields. "This is Webster Road and we´re headed towards East Lansing. East Lansing is 5.9 miles from the edge of Bath Township at the start of Lake Lansing Road. Up here where the road curves is where Lake Lansing Road starts. We´ll go straight. At this curve the remainder of Webster Road used to be a graded dirt road. It was paved two years ago.

Down this road are three houses that sit on two acre lots. Behind them are the cabbage fields owned by the Carns."

Cash stopped the car in a large wooden house´s driveway. A young man came out the side door.

"What can I do for you, Cash?"

"Just want to park for a bit and wander out back in Carn´s fields for a bit. The Carns are in Florida at Disney World, so I didn´t want to park there."

"Fine. It´s cold out there, stop in for coffee when ya all done."

The young man had been looking at Mulder pointedly and when it seemed that Cash was not going to introduce them, he held out his hand to Mulder, "I´m Sean Kincaid, I´m a teacher at Bath High School."

Mulder smiled, "Glad to meet you. I´m Fox Mulder of the FBI"

"FBI!"

Cash nodded, "He´s here to look over the Lenton´s boy´s murder."

"That was before I moved here. I´ve been here only five years. Why after all these years?"

Mulder knew this was just a generic reaction and gave the stock answer. "Just routine. We like to revisit cold cases once in while, as long as they´re still open."

Kincaid nodded, accepting the answer for what it was. "OK, see you when ya all get back."

************************

Standing in Carns´ Cabbage Fields

"Texas? How´d he end up in Bath, Michigan?

Cash chuckled, "Oh, I don´t know. He was engaged to a Lansing girl and I guess picked up a teaching job out here. Nothing ever came of the Lansing girl, but I guess he decided to stay with the school. Says he likes it because it´s a small system and he´s free to teach instead of a lot of the extra duties that city schools put on teachers."

"A friend of yours?"

"Uh, uh. We hang out together a bit. We´re both bachelors and we watch each other´s back for marriage seeking females. Neither of us wants that right now."

"It´s a big house for a bachelor."

"He bought it when he thought he would be marrying that Lansing gal. He keeps it because he likes it and figures he´ll marry sometime."

Mulder had been looking over the bleak landscape. The grown was rippled by furrows that went on for what seemed like forever. The grown was dusted with snow with the dark earth speckled throughout. The fields were broken up by tree breaks in the distance. It was desolate and very quiet.

After a long silence, Mulder turned to Cash. "How was it different seven years ago. Start with the weather."

Cash spread his legs apart and clasped his hands behind his back, "It was colder, the fields were totally covered by snow. Cash looked up, remembering, then stood up straight and pointed to his left. "There were a row of seven migrant worker shacks lined over there. They were a few hundred yards from the body. They were made of wood plank. They had no water or electricity and measured six feet square. They hadn´t been used since the early sixties. We went through them carefully. There was no sign of habitation or anything else. I talked Bill Carn into tearing them down."

Mulder nodded and then stood for another twenty minutes in silence. Mulder liked and appreated Cash David. He was a man with patience and who respected Mulder, at least his position of an FBI agent to let him do his ´thing´ in peace.

Finally, Mulder turned around and started walking back towards Kincaid´s house. Cash David fell easily in step beside him.

Mulder started talking softly, "The shacks would have been a strong enticement to a small boy. The bastard promised him an adventure, promised him he could explore them."

David nodded, "The possibility crossed my mind."

"It would be someone who knew about those shacks. Someone who would know how to lay low in the winter. A local who either came back or left sometime afterwards."

Cash David stopped, why hadn´t that occurred to him. He had never not known about the shacks and other stuff peculiar to the Bath area. It just never occurred to him..

"Were there ever any other migrant shacks in the area?"

Cash shook his head in the negative. "No, just these. Every other farm in the area grows corn and wheat. This was the only place that grow cabbage and needs the extra labor.

The migrant workers still show up once a year for two weeks labor. The Carns have a dorm and the kids have a traveling tutor. They work the strawberry and cherry season and then travel on to Ohio."

Mulder tucked his head into his shoulders. Whatever else he found, he knew this was the genesis. It started here. He would identify his killer here and start to track him. He stopped without realizing it and swayed. He felt himself begin to swirl into a vortex. It always began this way. He felt a hand on his bicep and turned.

"I need to talk to Pasty Bell, is she still around."

Cash David merely nodded his head. It had been a long time since he had seen one with the "gift" his mother had described as a special intuitive sensibility to motivations good and bad. He remembered his grandfather had had it.

End of Chapter 5

~~~
 

Two Voice Harmony-Two: Harmony in Echoes
Jo Jo lee
Joeyleenaz@aol.com
X-Files A/U WIP
Continuation of Series: Story Two: Harmony in Echoes
Chapter 6/?
Slash S/M PG to N17
Thanks to Bertina for her great Beta Reading
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two Voice Harmony-Story two: Harmony in Echoes

Chapter 6

Bath Sheriff sub-station

The interview with Pasty Bell had not yielded much, but she couldn´t remember anything strange or needy about Tommy´s shoes. Mulder inferred that Tommy Lenton´s shoes had had laces or the ever helping Pasty Bell would have taken care of it.

Pasty Bell was one of those good people who, when they saw a need, responded to it in a helping in a non-judgmental way. She was in her late fifties and Mulder had liked her right away. She spoke with sadness when she reminisced about Tommy and Lizzie Lenton.

Busy with four of her seven children still at home and a sick husband, she had still had time to check on her neighbor and help. Patsy could not even find harsh words for Dixie Barnes, the aunt who had dropped off a five year old boy with a ninety-three year old woman and had, without any kindness, informed her of her grand children´s deaths. Patsy just referred to her as a troubled woman and would not comment further.

Patsy had hung her head and said she still felt guilty that she hadn´t done more, but who would have thought such a thing could happen again.

"Again?" Mulder had asked?

Patsy had folded her hands in her lap and nodded then decided to get up and refill their coffee cups. "Yes, once before in the early fifties. I was six and Bobby David disappeared. He was nine."

She let out a breath and sat back down. "He was my cousin and one of my playmates. He was found like Tommy. Cash´s granddaddy was the one who found out who it was that done it.

Bobby was one of four boys that were killed. One from Fowlerville, another from Potterville and one from Okemos. It seems that a drama professor from Michigan State University didn´t seem to think that a few country children would be missed. Peter David convinced the bastard otherwise."

"Peter David was the sheriff?"

Pasty shook her head, "No, he was a farmer, but wise in his ways. He just put it all together somehow and him and a few men went and got this fellow. Once the men were convinced of his guilt, they dealt with him."

"Dealt with him?"

"You know, killed him. All the men who melted out justice are dead now or else I wouldn´t be telling it."

"Who were these men?"

"Well, there was Peter David, the daddies of all the boys, and a few of the boy´s uncles. I don´t remember them all, being a child at the time."

"Is that the last time that local men melt out their own justice?"

Pasty nodded her head, "If there was another time, I don´t know about it. When Tommy was killed in that way, I couldn´t help thinking about Bobby. They get confused in my dreams. I can´t image another man of such evil killing again, but that´s a stupid thing, all you have to do is pick up a newspaper or watch the news.

When Tommy was killed, there was nobody who could figure who did it. No one, except Cash, really cared much. Tommy had no family here except Lizzie and she died soon after."

"I´m looking into it with Sheriff David´s help. Can I come talk with you again, for back ground information."

Patsy had smiled, "Come anytime." Just then, loud wailing erupted from the back of the house. Pasty smiled, "That Kevin and Kyle, my twin grandbabies. Can you find your way out?"

Mulder got up with a smile, "Sure, see you soon."

***********************

Mulder mentally finished going over his interview with Patsy Bell and was still smiling when Scully stormed in.

"I don´t understand why you wanted all of these and why I had to lug them while you daydream and drinkÖwhat are you drinking? It cold and miserable out there, but you wouldn´t know it tucked snugly away here."

Mulder ignored her harangue, "Have you got all twenty years?"

"Yeah, the principle is holding Sheriff David responsible for their return."

"OK, Cash, come here. Let´s start with 1975."

Cash looked at the twenty Bath High School year books and sat down.

"Why are you so interested in the Fighting Bath Bees?"

"Bath Bees? Well, I guess the powers that be could have decided to have the mascot as the Bath Bats or Bath Bears or Bath Bugs, Bath Beatniks, Bath Bandits, Bath BlundersÖ"

Cash had gone from a slightly shocked look to laughing, usually people were too PC to pick fun at Bath´s high school mascot, not quite as funny now because real ´killer´ bees had come up from South America, but still!

"All right, all ready!

Mulder grinned and sobered. He bent over the table and opened the 1975 year book, "OK, what I want you to do is to look at all the boys. Make a list of all the boys who you don´t personally know where they are. Make a list for the boys who have moved away. Make another list of all the boys who you know or think have died. Check out the underclassmen and make a list of all the boys who didn´t graduate, at least from Bath."

Mulder turned towards Scully, "Start back ground checks and make sure there is a death certificate for everyone on Cash´s death list.

Scully put her hands on her hips, "That´s a hell of a lot of work. Why? Why didnët you have me get the last seven years worth of year books? Oh, Tommy Lenton was killed seven years ago."

Mulder didn´t care for her attitude, but chose to ignore it. "He´s from here Scully."

"How would you know that? This is the first crime scene we´ve been to. One of the cases you downloaded predates this one."

Mulder shook his head, "Tommy Lenton might not be his first victim, probably not, but the killer is from here"

Scully sat down heavily at the computer table, "I just don´t know how you can say that. What are you going to be doing?"

Mulder put on his coat and looked out the window. "I´m going to the old Lenton place." Mulder looked back at Cash, "Did you call the Farris´"

Cash looked up from his lists, "Yeah, they said they´d be happy to show you around. They´re the second owners since Lizzie. The Mullins didn´t stay long before they moved back to Dansville to be closer to their parents. The Farris´ moved in about four years ago."

Mulder looked out the window again as a pickup stopped out front. Sean Kincaid got out of the pickup and walked up to the sub-station´s door.

The sub-station was one large room with a counter near the front door and a large table and assorted chairs. A smaller table and computer lined the back wall along with a small desk and telephone. The room was painted a pleasant blue with dark blue trim. Unfortunately, the plaster the paint covered was bumpy and cracked.

The small building was heated by old-fashioned radiator that hissed ominously without giving off much warmth. A coffee maker adorned the counter and a large maps adorned the walls.

There was a large map of Clinton County and a large map of Michigan. It was the same map Badger had tacked up on their bedroom wall long before it had been theirs. Having that map there was somehow a small comfort, bringing to mind Badger, their bedroom, their love.

Sean came in with a blast of cold air. "Are you ready yet?"

Mulder nodded his head, "Perfect timing, thank you."

Sean looked around noticing Scully, and Mulder called out, "Scully."

Catching her attention, "Agent Scully, this is Sean Kincaid, a teacher at the high school. Sean, this is Agent Scully who is also Doctor Scully of the FBI"

Sean walked over and reached out his hand, "Hello, glad to meet you."

Scully looked up and reached up her hand, "Like wise. Kind of you to taxi us about."

"As long as it´s after school, no problem."

Sean turned, and walked over to Cash and looked down at all the year books.

"Anything I can help with later?"

Cash shook his head, "No, you haven´t lived here long enough for this. Bring me dinner?"

Sean smiled and nodded, "Sure thing."

Cash smiled as Mulder and Kincaid let in another blast of cold air as they left.

Cash picked up the lists from the ´75 year book, three deaths and four unknown and got up and handed them to the disgruntled red head.

She grabbed them with ill-grace and then smiled, "Sorry, I just hate to do busy work and I think this is."

Cash turned around without a word and sat back down at the table and picked up the ´76 year book. He opened and spoke quietly, "I think he´s right. He has the gift."

Scully jerked around, "Sheriff David, what gift? What are you talking about?"

Cash turned to face her, "I don´t know what it is called, exactly, but my grandfather was like Agent Mulder. They make connections before they really know why. Sometimes, they can´t explain until the hunt is done. You need to let him be and just help him pull the information he needs together."

Scully bit down on her tongue, "Thank you, Sheriff David, but I don´t need advise from you on my working relationship with Agent Mulder. I´ve been working with Agent Mulder for six months now and I believeÖ"

Cash interrupted, "Sorry, you´re right, it´s not my place to say." and turned back to his work.

Scully turned back to the computer and started the checks for the death certificates. It was cook book kind of work and her mind scattered around. This was weird. Usually Mulder couldn´t get along with the local officials, but here in Bath, he was joking with the sheriff and the sheriff was defending Mulder to her. She didn´t enjoy playing the heavy in this arena.

She had the right to question Mulder and make him offer up some rational to his decisions. He was good, he was brilliant, but usually inept with local law enforcement. Maybe she was a bit cranky because her usual diplomatic role was non-existent or maybe she was still smarting from Skinner and Mulder´s revelation.

She didn´t like carrying other people´s secrets and she didn´t like being kept in the dark. She had the right to know about them and yet she was irritated that they told her. She would have to think it through. Would she be as upset if one of them was female?

She felt that for the last six months that she had gotten to know Mulder that he had played her false. She felt foolish for trying to set him up with a date. No wonder he had become snappish. It hadn´t really been her place to interfere, but she had been trying to help.

Even Sam had told her to ease up. How dare they almost order her to not tell Sam. Well, had strongly suggested to keep it to herself. They wanted freedom to be themselves, but expected her to keep a secret from Sam.

She pounded on the computer keys, automatically printing out the needed information. Did she even like Mulder? He could be irritating, bossy and dismissive at his worst. He could whine and be childish, he could be inconsiderate and condescending.

She pulled another sheet from the printer and stacked it. He could also be funny and play like a kid. It made the basement office a good place to be usually. He could be considerate and willing to listen if you caught him at the right time. She hit another key, he could also be petty. If she hadn´t hauled a desk up from the sub-basement herself, she would never have gotten one. Mulder would not order her one. She still fumed on that one. But, incomprehensively, he had gotten her a computer, once she had gotten the desk. She yanked out another print out.

He was messy and disorganized. He was overly emotional at times and stubborn when he thought he was on to something. He was weird. She finished with the names for ´75. She had found four death certificates. One of the unknown had died in a car crash in California. The three other unknowns were accounted for.

She sat back and let her mind cascade through her perceptions of Mulder. He was also damaged. With Mulder, what you saw, was what you got. She had never seen his gayness. She, somehow, felt insulted by it.

She had never personally been interested in Mulder that way, so she didnët understand why she was feeling this way. She had meet Dr. Sam Kasahara five months ago and was very happy in that relationship. Why should she begrudge Mulder his lover?

She pushed away from the computer and grabbed her mug and stood up and trotted toward the coffee maker, was it because that lover was Skinner? They were a trio, of sorts, and would it be two against one. Would she always be a professional third wheel? She´d have to think it through. Let it play out.

She sat back down, well, Skinner was Mulder´s boss and Mulder was her boss. A bit too cozy if things turned sour. She was a bit too isolated to be comfortable and she didn´t trust either one that much, not yet.

Cash got up and interrupted her thoughts by handing her another set of lists, she nodded her head in acknowledgement but said nothing. Cash had enough sense to stay quiet and go back to his table and work.

Scully started pounding the computer again. It was chancy for her career, if things went sour, she would have very little recourse. Skinner was an AD and there was no where else to go. She´d more or less burned her bridges at Quantico. OK, Ok, what was she so unset about.

In the last six months, the work had gone well. She was happy. She had found a compatible niche. Mulder was not the easiest person to work with, but he got results. He wasn´t an egomaniac, he just got stubborn. He did listen to her impute and to her criticism. She was vacillating back and forth. She hated it when she did this about anything.

OK, Ok. She got another printout. Mulder was a good agent and he was dedicated. Skinner was a good agent and AD and dedicated. They had treated her well, had let her grow into the non-doctor aspects of the job. She just wished she knew why she was soÖwhat? Angry? Unbalanced? Insecure? She tore out the last print out. One death, seven unknowns accounted for.

She wondered if Mulder was right and if at the end of this they would have a possible suspect. She wouldn´t be surprised. Why had she given him a hard time. It wasn´t warranted. She needed to talk to Sam. She needed to talk to her mother. She needed to talk to a friend. Ah, was that it? She had started to think of Mulder as a friend.

She had confided some personal things about the trouble she was having dealing with her father´s death. Mulder had not made any personal confidences, but his childhood and it´s terrors had been broadcast as they had worked the Fed Kid Case. Could she still think of him as a friend? He hadn ´t told her as a friend, but as a necessity. She felt a spike of anger at that.

Cash handed the lists for ´77 and left without a word. She commenced on pounding the computer again. This was useless. There was a killer to catch. Skinner and Mulder had their lives to live. Sam and she had theirs. They would do their jobs. She would see if the bud of friendship blossomed and ride it out. But she still needed to talk to Sam, hear his voice and have him talk some sense into her.

*******************

Mulder was cold and wet by the time he was dropped off at the sub-station. The light was fading and the snow was falling hard.

Scully stood up and stretched, "We´ve got the first five books done. I´m tired. Can we let it go till tomorrow morning?"

Mulder shrugged out of his coat and looked at Scully, she did look tired and it had been a very long day.

"Sure. Take the rental. I´ll find a ride back to the Bed and Breakfast."

Kim, Skinner´s secretary had booked them into a small, inexpensive B & B located on Clarke Rd. just inside Bath Township and just off of US 27. It was the only place available to stay within Bath. They could have stayed in East Lansing, but it was much more expensive.

Scully reached for her coat and put it on and said good night to Cash and Mulder.

"I´ll ask Mrs. Everhart to save some dinner for you, Mulder."

Mulder walked up to her and put his hand on the doorknob in preparation to open it for her and whispered in her ear.

"Scully, its going to be all right. You´ll be OK, I promise. Go call Sam. It´ s OK. Talk things over with him. I understand."

Scully looked up at him and smiled, how did he know?. She nodded her head and he opened the door to let her out.

Cash looked up, "She was a might upset."

Mulder sat down at the computer and started looking over the print outs.

"She had cause. It´s been a rough day."

***********************

An hour later Sean walked in with large bags from a Burger King. He ripped open the sacks revealing lots of fries, onion rings and burgers.

Cash got up and opened a cabinet under the counter to reveal a small refrigerator. He opened it and called back over his shoulder, "I´ve got coke, diet coke, ice tea and Dr. Pepper."

Mulder opted for ice tea and Sean portioned out the food for three. "Where´s Agent Scully? I got enough for her too."

Mulder looked up, "She left for the night. She was tired and I think she was looking forward to Mrs. Everhart´s famed meatloaf."

Sean sat down, "Well, all the more for us. I´m starved. I brought my classes´ essays with me so I can grade them while you two work. It´s messy out there. I can take Mulder home or you can."

They worked until eleven and shut down the office. They had gotten eight of the twenty books done and had come up with one possible. Mulder had sent the information to the FBI for a complete back ground check. The man had simply disappeared.

By the time Mulder was ready for bed, having made a snack out of Mrs. Everhart ´s famed meatloaf, he looked at the phone. It was late, but he needed to hear Badger´s voice. He picked up the phone and called.

His call was answered on the first ring.

"Skinner."

"Hi lover. It´s me. I miss you."

"Hi baby, I miss you too. How´s it going? How´s Scully doing. Tell me everything."

Mulder laid back and did just that. It was wonderful to recount the day. His belief that the killer hailed from Bath, the description of the desolate cabbage fields and the people he had met that day.

Skinner was the first person that Mulder ever met that really listened to him. All his life, people had been defensive because of his IQ or just wanted to use him like a computer. Even profiling, fellow agents just used him and took the credit. The credit was not the real issue, the issue was that they felt free to use him like he wasn´t a real person. Skinner had never been like that, not even at the beginning.

Mulder and Skinner chatted about the case and then started talking in a more personal way. Mulder told him how the map of Michigan in the sub-station reminded him of their bedroom. Mulder went on to tell Skinner how he loved their home, missed the candlelight that lighted their room every night, missed the feel and sound of his lover.

Skinner made sure he told Mulder how much he loved him and missed him and how much he was looking forward to joining him Friday, just a few days away. Skinner kissed the phone and hung up. He was sure Mulder had fallen asleep to the sound of his voice. He grabbed Mulder´s pillow and hugged it to himself. It still smelled of Mulder and he buried his nose in it and closed his eyes to dream of his lover.

End of Chapter 6

Continued in Chapter 7
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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