Appalachian Idyll by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Finished: 18 August 1997 Summary: Mulder and Scully work with a local DA to try a serial murder. This story started life, two years ago, as a threat back when Goo was posting her story, Corpse. Some of the comments sent to her about the story were humorous threats. Well, one that I thought of and e-mailed, was to make Goo be an prosecuting attorney and Mulder & Scully be the chief witnesses. I even included a vignette of her meeting the two. She loved it. I asked permission to make it into a full scale story. She agreed. Here it is. Several of the characters in this tale are based on various people that I have corresponded with on the net. I also make use of many places and things I remember from my days growing up in St Petersburg, Florida. Also, this story makes use of a fictional setting. The actual Aurora is an Atlantic coastal community. My Aurora is set in the Appalachian mountains and has nothing to do with the original. Also, there is no Goff County, North Carolina. Many thanks must be given to Carrie Lane for her proofreading of the entire thing. Her comments were most helpful preparing this thing for publication. FIRST DISCLAIMER: DISCLAIMER: This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognized characters and plot- lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental or is done with permission. Feel free to distribute, but please keep me as the author. SECOND DISCLAIMER: This story makes use of several characters who should be copyrighted and/or committed, your call. Their copyrights are as below: Character / Item Copyright/Trademark Owner Goo aka J. Hyacinthmae Livengoo livengoo@tiac.com Jer aka Gerald Riggens livengoo@tiac.com Emma livengoo@tiac.com Char Hall drakkar@bconnex.net Kylie Loxton s337861@student.uq.edu.au Carrie Lane issccml@lux.latrobe.edu.au Ra Enright RaEnright@aol.com, ralgw@wco.com Rodent YouKneek@aol.com Michelle fbi_basement@hiley.demon.co.uk Monkey Boy aka Sean Smith ez042725@dale.ucdavis.edu Tammy & Winky, Carmine MsBrookyn@aol.com Other copyrights and trademarks belong to their original owners. Please don't sue me. --------------------------------------------------------------- Appalachian Idyll Part 1 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com 7:30 AM February 12 Goff County, North Carolina "Where Goo get stuck with a job she doesn't want." ------- The intruding sound of the telephone woke the trim blond up from a nice deep sleep. A groping hand reached for the receiver as disgusted eyes noted the time. 7:30AM. "Goo," she mumbled. "Ah, Hyacinthmae. I'm so glad to find you home. This is your uncle Freddy," said the baritone voice on the line. She sat up. She hated the name, her name. Had hated it since childhood. There was only 4 four people left in Goof County that would dare call her that to her face. But this was one of them, Judge Frederick "Freddy" Fitzpatrick, North Carolina Superior Court Judge for Goff county. And 5 of the surrounding counties in the northwest corner of the state. And as she, Goo is the lowly Assistant District Attorney, she knew better not to pay attention. Even if he was her mother's brother, and she was his favourite niece. "Sir?", she questioned. "Be up to the Courthouse by 9AM, Hyacinthmae," the baritone voice said. "And dress for court. Good Day". Click. "This had better be bloody important," she mumbled swinging her lithe five foot 8 inch frame out of bed. First a quick shower. <"Dress for Court" Freddy said . . . conservative it is>. Within an hour, Goo said goodbye to the pets, and was heading into town, garbed in grey linen and beige silk. Winter was changing to Spring in the North Carolina mountains and the warm air felt good with the convertible's top down. The tangerine Karmann Ghia Cabriolet served it's mistress well on the 15 mile trip into town. A quick run down Charlotte Street and a right turn into the courthouse parking lot finished the trip. Release the seat belt, stuff the driving gloves and Ray-Bans into the briefcase, and off to the back entrance of the Civil War era building. Goo noticed with sadness the county workers putting a coat of paint over the sign at George Walter's parking place. George Walter still was the DA, his heart attack while on honeymoon in Las Vegas didn't remove him from office, he would be back. "He would be back," had become a mantra from the recent member of the North Carolina Bar. She didn't want to be District Attorney, she really didn't want to be Asst. DA, but the money was too good and there just wasn't that many jobs for a new lawyer in the county. The sheriff's deputy at the rear entrance yelled that Goo was wanted on the front steps of the building. As she shouted her thanks, she left her purse and briefcase with the receptionist. came to Goo's mind as she stepped out of the front doors of the Court House. She stopped for a moment absorbing the scene in front of her. The steps in front of a building that had been erected before the 'War of Northern Aggression' had become a media circus. There were reporters and cameramen, and other people that Goo didn't have a guess what they were doing there. And it was worse on the street. There were vans from a couple of the major Asheville television stations, satellite dishes pointed up to the sky. A Bronco from UPI. Even a econo-box with a "PRESS" sign in the front windshield and "NC Public Television" on the driver's door. Seeing County Commissioner Peter Lazenby talking with some reporters she headed over to them. Peter's face opened up into one of his "Election Smiles" as he saw the blond walk up to him. He steeled himself for the fun that was sure to follow *this* press conference. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Fourth Estate, we are ready." Motioning Goo to his side, he started speaking, "We are all saddened by the recent heart attack and hospitalization of our friend George Walter. The District Attorney. He will be missed during his convalescence. But we must keep moving forward and find somebody to fill his shoes until he will be back to the courthouse." Goo knew that at least part of George's "hospital" stay was a doctor enforced vacation. The man had worked hard for several years. As the Asst. DA, Goo helped out all she could, but . . . Her mind came back for Peter's big statement. "The County Commission met late yesterday to discuss this matter. I have also discussed this over the phone with George and the State's Attorney's office in Raleigh. All agree on one choice to fill in for George until his return. That person is J. Hyacinthmae Livengoo, our current Assistant District Attorney." As the clapping started, Goo started, and started to turn towards George. was the first thought, killing Peter, Freddy, the county board, and the SA was the second. "Smile for the cameras now, Goo," Peter whispered. "I'll get you and Freddy for this, Peter," was her response through gritted teeth as she smiled and started to answer reporter's questions. Fifteen minutes later, Goo walked through the door of Uncle Freddy's office on the second floor of the courthouse. Doris, his secretary was standing at her desk. "Good Morning, dear. Your go right on in now. The Judge is expecting you." Fighting a dozen angry moonshiners seemed safer than facing this Appalachian Valkyrie. She left for a cup of out-of-hearing-range coffee. Nervously walking off tension, Goo started, "You son-of . . ., how could you, . . . God . . ." Freddy mused, He knew the best way to handle this was to let her blow off steam, and then talk rationally. "Hyacinthmae, sit down." Freddy's voice of command cut through her panic and confusion. She sat. "You pushed this through didn't you." The sentence was as much accusation as it was question. "Yes. This is in a bad situation. George was a great DA, but his heart attack means he is out of office until after Labor Day. We told him he shouldn't have married that cheerleader. She just graduated high school last year and he's in his sixties. But the county needs somebody for that office now." "Somebody from Raleigh?" "No. We need to have somebody local. We don't want some Capital City bozo to come in who doesn't know how we do things in Goff County," said Freddy. "Anyway, you know the cases that are pending, you know the routine, you know the people. You can sit in his chair and get right to work." She thought over his statement. "Shit, you are right." A pause. "Dammit, Freddy, you know that I'm a dirt lawyer. I know real estate law, but don't know squat about criminal law. I haven't studied it since college." "What is there to worry about, HyacinthMae? We don't have that much in the way of criminal activity here in Goff County. You'll do well." A look at her uncle. "You owe me big time for this one. *Big Time*. --- Section 2 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 2 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 4:34PM Sunday, 5 March The Livengoo Residence "Where the FBI gets "Gooed" and Mulder gets to chew his wingtips." ------- The rare early spring sun was warm on Goo's back as she waxed the tangerine Karmann Ghia. The previous Wednesday morning, Uncle Freddy gave her his keys to his Cape Hatteras beach house and told her to get lost. When a Circuit Court Judge tells her something, Goo does. She called a friend to take care of the pets, packed some clothes, and headed for the coast. It had been a great two days on the beach, eating seafood, and dancing the shag. She returned with sand in the car's carpet and salt on the coachwork. FBI Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully had been on the road since before New Years. They had been up and down the eastern seaboard of the United States chasing a serial killer that had a thing for federal and state employees. When they had finally tracked her down that morning, she claimed that she was trying to help balance the budget by reducing the government payroll. They had been put on the case months after she had started operating. So they had enjoyed two months of living in backwater motor courts, eating in greasy spoons. Scully thought thinking of the classy Aurora hotel they had registered just after locking up the 'perp' in the local jail. Glancing over at her partner, she thought. They had been told to go out New Hope Church Road until they got to 'Brick House." The DA lived there. "Eleven twenty-one, this is it," Scully said, seeing the bronze plaque on the brick gatepost. Mulder just grunted, turning onto a gravel driveway. At the end of the long gravel lane, past winter-bare apple trees to either side, they could see a building. 'Brick House' was a Antebellum two story brick mansion with the traditional large veranda in front. And an added enticement... "Good Lord . . ", mumbled Mulder. Scully had to agree that it was a picture to warm a male heart. In front of the home was a tall blond with a long pony tail and a body to die for waxing a cherry '75 Ghia convertible. The movements were doing nothing to hide her body inside the wet crop top and bicycle shorts. Neither did her bending over the fender rubbing the last bit of wax. "Get you tongue in, Mulder, " she said good naturally, "We are here to talk to the DA, not ogle his daughter." she thought. The figure standing up and stretching opened his mouth again. Goo stood up and stretched to ease the kink in her back. The sound of a car crunching up the gravel drive told her she was not alone. looking down at her wet clothes and bare feet. She hadn't expected anybody this afternoon and thought it a good time to wash and wax the Ghia. It was her baby, a rather loud baby with an engine from a Porsche and a competition suspension. It was fun to drive. Two people got out of the white Ford Taurus. One was Mr. GQ, tall and slightly boyish looking. The other was a 5 foot Vargis Girl in a frumpy suit. Goo's eyes widened slightly at the unladylike bulge at her right hip. , she thought as she stood a little taller in response. As they got closer, they started to look more like real people than Vogue models. GQ was wearing dusty shoes and looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. The Vargis munchkin was walking stiffly like she had been sitting in a car seat way too long. The sparkle dimmed a bit. "We are FBI Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully," GQ said while they presented their IDs. "We would like to talk with Mr. Livengoo, the District Attorney." was her first thought. was her second. "How may I help ya'll," Goo said in her best "Gone With the Wind" drawl. "I'm Hyacinthmae. Would you like to come up to the verandah and have some iced tea?" A quick look between the two, and both of their faces lit up. "Thank you very much." said the female agent. As Goo led them up to the house, Mulder was able to get a better look at their hostess. Her buttocks moving under the skin tight shorts was not helping him feel cooler. he thought. After settling them in wicker seats on the verandah, Goo went inside and got iced tea and cookies. Nothing of consequence was spoken at first. "Allow them peace while drinking the first glass", Goo's mother always said. Goo took the time to look them over a bit more. Dana Scully, the woman agent, was maybe 5 feet or a little over. Her eyes had the slightly unfocused look that came from mind numbing fatigue. Fox Mulder, her partner, was taller, a little over 6 ft. His eyes looked haunted, as if he was beyond his partner's fatigue. He had come to that place where everything was a dream, or Goo thought, a nightmare. Scully looked over at her partner, concern in her eyes. She didn't like him looking this fatigued. But tracking serial killers required him to get inside their heads and when he did, the cost to both his body and mind were severe. She looked to her hostess, "Hyacinthmae, We are looking for District Attorney Livengoo. Agent Mulder and I captured Cathy Anders, a serial killer, this morning. She is residing in the Goff county jail. We understand she will be arraigned here in Goff County and wish to coordinate this with him." Goo looked over at Mulder for comment. She got a brief nod. Mulder was willing to let somebody else carry the ball. "My daddy isn't home right now," Goo said, enjoying herself. she thought. "The DA's office is in the County Courthouse in Aurora, the county seat. Check there tomorrow morning." "We will," Mulder said, apparently revived by the stop. "Thank you for your hospitality, ma'am. We are staying at the Aberdeen. We'll be on our way." Mulder stood and reached out to gently shake her hand. Goo was not quite that gentle. Mulder froze for a moment, the handshake was rather harder than he had expected. Scully rose, "That was very good iced tea. Something special?" she asked, shaking their hostess's hand. "An old Southern tradition. Just a little mint added to the tea leaves," Goo responded. A Siamese yowl caused Mulder and Scully to freeze for a moment. The sight of a Siamese chasing a Rottweiler caused both agents to stop in their tracks. "Angus, Sit! Kiss, Sit!," was Goo's loud command to the two animals. Mulder and Scully were shocked when both animals stopped running and sat right down, the cat with its tail wrapped around itself. "Kiss, bad kitty. Don't chase the dog," Goo chided, walking up to a small sealpoint Siamese cat. She turned and walked over to the Rottie, stoking its head before grabbing its collar. "It's OK, agents. The cat just enjoys chasing the dog." A shrug, and she continued, "And since Angus enjoys it, why should I stop it. You needn't worry, he'll not attack you." Scully wasn't so sure. Angus looked much bigger than she was, and all muscle to boot. A wave from Scully and GQ and Vargis were on their way. "Tomorrow will be fun," Goo said to herself as she collected the glasses and went in. 7:03PM Sunday, 5 March Dining Room, The Aberdeen Hotel "This way please." ------- "This way please," the hostess said leading the two back to a table. Scully instantly liked the place. The crystal chandeliers and moire silk wall coverings made her think of a few of the nicer places she had been eaten at in Washington and Baltimore. She was just glad she hadn't given into her inclination to change to casual jeans before dinner. "We're not on a date, Mulder," she told her partner. Mulder thought before replaying her comment. He slowly shook his head as he pulled her chair out for her. "This is the first nice place you've taken me." He looked up from the menu at her face and saw the humour in her eyes. "You mean you didn't like Bubba's Bar-B-Que Pit and Truck Stop in Yeehaw Junction," he chuckled. A raised eyebrow told him told him, 'You've got to be kidding me.' "It's so nice to stay somewhere with some place nice to go to," she commented. The arrival of the waitress derailed that train of thought. "Good evening," she said, setting down a covered basket. "Tonight we have . . .," starting a monologue of the evening specials. Scully could see the waitress taking quick little looks at her partner. Not that she, Scully, hadn't taken the same looks herself. she asked herself. And she didn't miss the hint of jealousy in the quick look that the waitress gave her. So Scully did the only thing she could do, smile. "I'll have the broiled perch," Scully ordered, handing the dark blond haired waitress her menu. Mulder glanced up at the waitress's name tag. "Michelle, what you recommend," he asked, giving her a smile. "My personal favourite is the Bar-B-Que ribs," she answered. Scully couldn't help but notice the waitress's emphasis on 'personal.' She leaned back to watch Mulder flirt with one of the local ladies, again. Before Michelle left, Mulder asked a question, "Yorkshire?" Scully had picked up on the English accent, but couldn't pick out where in England. Michelle's face brightened before she responded, "Why, yes. I'm from Yorkshire, Sheffield in fact." Scully watched the two talk. The waitress, about growing up in England, Mulder, of his time at Oxford. Mulder was a natural profiler, she had been told once by somebody in BSU. He notices things, looks at people. Looks at them as individuals, pays attention to them. And here he was doing it again, not really for any gain, just because that's what he is. "Keep this up, and I'll have to get you a bib," Scully chided, watching Mulder's eyes follow Michelle as she walked away from the table. Mulder looked over at his partner, and her gave one of his best wounded looks. She laughed. The food was all the decor claimed it would be, fresh, well prepared, and tasty. And the waitress made several trips to their table, always topping off their glasses, keeping the bread basket filed. Scully had to admit that Mulder was being his most charming tonight. While waiting for desert, Scully excused herself and visited the lady's lounge. She was about to refresh her lipstick when their waitress walked up to the sinks. "Your husband is dreamy," Michelle said washing her hands. Scully barely kept herself from extending her lipstick to her ear. She turned to the younger woman and extended her left hand. Michelle could see no wedding band, and no cheating mark. "Boyfriend," she hazarded. Scully laughed. "No. Nope. Nadda. He is my partner. We are not involved. We're FBI agents here on a case. Nothing more. We just work together." Michelle stood there and processed that for a second. A gleam came to her eyes and a smile appeared on her face. "Thanks," she called out as she headed for the door. Scully shook her head in amusement and finished her repairs. Michelle was delivering the deserts when the agent walked up to the table. Scully could see the change in Michelle with the discovery that Mulder was not taken. Now she openly flirted with him, moistening her lips with her tongue, fiddling with her hair, leaning in close to the man. And Mulder was responding. He leaned back slightly, was attentive to every word she said. Scully smiled at this side of her partner. Soon desert was over and the partners parted ways, each heading to their own rooms. 9:45PM Sunday, 5 March Scully's Room, The Aberdeen Hotel "Mulder's Luck" ------ Scully thought, leafing through the local newspaper. No redeye flights. No phone calls at three in the morning telling them that somebody else had disappeared. she decided finding the TV listings. she thought smiling, remembering Mulder's wanting to see the movie. She called room service for soft drinks and a bowl of popcorn. The knock on the door, a quarter hour later, caught Scully's attention and she went and opened it. And found a smiling Michelle, handing her a tray with a jumbo tub of hot buttered popcorn and a chilled quart bottle of I.B.C. root beer. "Thank you," Scully told her, taking the tray and setting it down. A quick check over the bill and she handed it back, signed, with a tip. "Thank you, ma'am," Michelle responded as the door closed and she continued down the hall with another food service tray. Scully thought, lifting the lid off the tub and idly nibbling on a couple of kernels. she thought, going for a bucket of ice. Returning, she went to the connecting door, preparing to invite Mulder in. And heard a giggle. A giggle that was low, throaty, and in a English accent. "Sorry. I couldn't get Devonshire cream for the strawberries, but the heavy cream should taste just as good." Scully pulled back. She didn't know if she was hurt because Mulder wouldn't be coming over for the movie, or that he had gotten 'lucky' and she was alone. She walked away from the door and started to chuckle, wondering if all the stories she had been told about Mulder were true. She sat down, poured herself a cold one, and changed the channel to HBO and "The First Wives' Club." It should be a good night. Section 3 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 3 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com ---------------------------------------------------------------- 7:30AM Monday, 6 March Dining Room, The Aberdeen Hotel "The truth be known." ------ Scully was still smiling when she sat down at breakfast. A smile she had gotten from the room service tray by Mulder's door. The sound of a chair being pulled back caught her attention. Her partner was there, looking quite relaxed, maybe not too well rested, but well relaxed. She waited until he got his coffee to his mouth. "Sleep well," she asked innocently. He almost, but not quite choked on the coffee. "Quite well, thanks," he finally choked out, his eyes on her. "Ah, our waitress," Scully murmured, saved from any response from her partner. And it was Michelle, the young lady stuck with both late dinner and breakfast shifts. Michelle moved in close to Mulder and hung on his every word. She had made her claim. Scully didn't feel threatened by the situation. Mulder had came here with her, he was going to leave with her. she thought. When Michelle came out with the food, Scully was certain that there had been a mistake. She had ordered a Belgian Waffle and fruit. What she got two waffles and half a melon. But when she started to ask Michelle, the waitress just winked. Mulder's "Heart Attack Special" was oversized as well. Scully counted 4 fried eggs and what looked like a pound of country ham. As Michelle put down the platter in front of Mulder, Scully could hear her murmur, "You have to keep up your strength." 9:00AM Monday, 6 March Goff County Court House "Goo learns the truth" ------- The pleasure of fooling the FBI agents the previous afternoon had faded with the light of day. Getting to the office unusually early, Goo called down to the Sheriff for an update. Mulder hadn't told the half of it. Cathy Anders was wanted in several states for killing people with poison and then hiding the bodies in old wells and mine shafts. She had been caught Sunday morning with a dead body in her car, presumably to hide it somewhere. Freddy was going to hold the arraignment Tuesday. Goo crouched down to pull some papers from a bottom drawer in a filling cabinet when she heard knocking at her door. "Come in." The door opened. Steps were heard. "Just let me finish getting these papers out." Mulder mused. Before Scully and him was a blue clad women taking papers from a filing cabinet. And the woman, not the filling cabinet, was the center attraction. Her hair was blond, and up, showing tasteful earrings and a slender neck. The power suit she was wearing was as tailored as Mulder's Armani and showed off her trim body. A hint of ecue lace was seen at collar and cuff. As she stood up, the skirt rested mid-thigh and showed off her long gunmetal nyloned legs, an old fashioned seam running down the middle of each leg. She turned around. A smile came to Goo's lips as she beheld Mr. GQ and the Vargis Munchkin. "Good Morning, what may I do for you," her opening. Scully and Mulder missed a beat. Was the elegantly clad woman the same person as the half clad tomboy that had served them refreshments, was Scully's thought. "We are looking for District Attorney Livengoo," Scully said, thinking like her partner, that maybe this was his secretary. "Well," said the blond, turning and sitting behind the desk. "You have found her." She motioned them to sit down. Sitting, Scully and Mulder paled. they thought, almost in unison. They looked at each other, swallowed, and turned to the DA. "I am very sorry for the misunderstanding," said Scully. "We meant no disrespect to you or your office." thought Scully. A veteran of the Federal Bureau of Investigation for over 10 years, a doctorate in abnormal psychology from Oxford, and over 5 years in Violent Crimes had not prepared Special Agent Fox Mulder, Supervisor, X-Files Section, for this situation. He always felt that he tried to maintain good relations with the local law enforcement. he thought to himself. A wan smile, "I have to echo my partner, Ms. Livengoo, we made a foolish assumption and apologize for it." Goo did not mind watching the two agents squirm, but enough was enough. She wasn't angry. A big wide smile. "No insult taken. And its 'Miss Livengoo." But please call me 'Goo'. Everybody else does. Nobody will know who you are talking about if you say 'Livengoo'. Now what can 'little ole me' do for the FBI." Scully and Mulder visibly relaxed. Mulder started, "As we mentioned last afternoon, we are in town due to the apprehension of Cathy Anders, a serial killer. We caught her . . . Sunday morning in the Patterson Township with a victim in the trunk of her car. We are here for two reasons. The first is for her arraignment." Goo nodded. "The second to try to recover as many of the victim's bodies as we can. She generally disposed of the remains in old disused wells and mining shafts. We would like to coordinate our search with your and the sheriff's offices." A quick look at Scully for any comment, and Goo said, "Okay. I'll contact Sheriff Grimes and arrange a meeting between him, the two of you, and myself. Okay?" A nod from the agents. Scully was glad that they hadn't bungled it up too bad with Goo. It would have been hell to work with her if she was going to hold a grudge about their mistake. "I noted in our file on Anders that she hasn't selected a defense attorney yet," said Goo. "I'll be contacting one of our local lawyers to handle her case." Scully started, "Goo, do you know anything about Cathy Anders background and family?" Goo quickly looked through the file and found nothing about Anders's background. "No, with her only phone call being one to," fiddling with the file, "her father in California, I figured that she didn't have a local lawyer and needed a Public Defender. We don't have a formal Public Defender's office here in Goff County, but rotate the work among the lawyers of the county. One of the costs of practicing law here." A chuckle. "Goo," Mulder began gently. "Cathy Anders is one of the Hollywood Anders." An unknowing nod from Goo. A panicked look was developing on her face. Something had been missed and she was going to get stepped on. "'The Hollywood Anders' used to dictate to Samuel Goldwyn and the other major players in the film industry. Today they may be behind the scenes in Hollywood, but they still lord it over Lucas and Spielburg. Not to insult the lawyers of Goff County, but she will not need them. She'll have a 'Dream Team' that will make O.J.'s look like a bunch of law school dropouts. I am sorry." Goo's head slowly dropped to her desk. She was a dirt lawyer, she handled leases, sales contracts, disputes about boundaries. She was DA only because she was suckered into it by Uncle Freddy. She had been 'Peter Principled' way over her head. Despair wrapped it's cold embrace around her heart. She cradled her head in her hands. "Oh my God, I'm royally screwed" she said. She looked up from her hands, her face a picture of despair. "Ok, guys, fill me in what you know about Anders and her family." The rest of the morning was spent going over the investigation and arrest. They broke for lunch at noon, leaving for "The Aurora Inn." Mulder looked around. The 'Inn' was a small place paneled in dark wood, a dozen booths, and maybe, the same number of tables. The lunch menu was mostly salads and sandwiches. Scully and Goo, each ordered salads, Mulder a 'pore boy' sandwich. Lunch was a peaceful affair, discussing differences between Aurora and Washington. Until they were joined at their table. "Mind if I join you," asked a woman walking up. It was lunchtime in the crowded diner. There were no empty tables and only a few unused chairs. Scully and Goo looked up and nodded their approval. Mulder dropped his sandwich as he felt the quick press of lips on his cheek. He looked up. "Priscilla," he whispered, his face a mixture of amazement and fear. "Foxy!," the suave brunette said, planting a possessive kiss on his cheek. Mulder immediately started to sink into his seat, knowing that there was no way he was going to survive this with dignity. Scully looked over at him and honoured him with her patented arched eyebrow. Her eyes asked, "What is going on here?!? Who is this woman? Why didn't you tell me about this? Foxy?!" "It's a small world, isn't it," the brunette asked. She noted the look of distress on Mulder's face, the redhead's questioning look. Goo didn't quite know what to make of this . . . woman. She was dressed in a Hollywood version of a Power Suit, her perfume was too strong, and she was being pushy. She watched this person with the same repulsed fascination you would give a rattler. She sat down between Mulder and Scully. Ignoring the women, "Don't tell me you are the FBI agent in charge of the Anders case? And aren't you going to introduce me to your delightful friends?" What Mulder was doing was trying to determine what he had done to deserve this. And how best to sink into the floor. "This is Hyacinthmae Livengoo, the District Attorney and my partner, Special Agent Doctor Dana Scully", Mulder finally croaked out. "And you are . . .." Scully asked in a pointedly sweet tone. A tone that sent shivers down Mulder's spine. "Priscilla Standish," the brunette said, "I am with the defense council." Smiling openly, she reached out to shake Goo's and Scully's hands. Mulder knew that the Furies had finally tracked him down and were going to Veg-a-matic him. He was going to die a Julienne death. And he was hopefully going to die, death by a thousand slices was preferable to being stuck in the middle between Scully and Priscilla "politely" sniping at each other. Looking over at the resigned agent, "Foxy, I've left some lipstick on your cheek." Priscilla said. Reaching over, she caressed his cheek with a napkin, removing the lipstick from his cheek, while driving up the blood pressure of every OTHER man in the diner. Scully felt irritation at this scene. If it was any other man than Mulder, she would be amused, but to see her partner in this situation irritated her. She cleared her throat. If anybody was going to jerk her partner around, it was going to be her. "You'll have to forgive me, " she said, turning her attention to Goo and Scully. "We are such old friends. We practically grew up together on the Vineyard. When I was living in Washington, four years ago, they offered me a position in LA. I nearly turned it down so I could stay close to Foxy." And Mulder sits there looking forlorn, holding fast to the hope that rescue will come from some quarter. Feeling like the poor man had suffered enough, Goo pushed back her chair for attention. "You will have to excuse us, Counsellor. Dr Scully, Agent Mulder, we must get back to work." "Would it be convenient for me and my associates to come by your office at 3PM to discuss the case, District Attorney," Priscilla asked. A nod from Goo. "It was nice to meet you Dr Scully." A moment break. "And Fox, I am staying in room 1121 at the Aberdeen, why don't we get together this evening to relive old times. Perhaps we can have breakfast together tomorrow morning." She got up and wrapped her arms around Mulder's arm, staking her claim on him. She leads him towards the door, leaving Goo and Scully at the table. "Your partner knows some interesting woman, Agent Scully," Goo asked as the intertwined pair got to the door. "He sure does," Scully replied, thinking of Phoebe Green, "he sure does." "And this one has my chief witness", Goo exclaimed, remembering that Mulder and Scully had found Anders in her car with the last victim. Goo and Scully dashed out of the diner, searching for the pair on the sidewalk. Scully found them first, Standish was walking Mulder across the treed Town Square, leading him towards the Aberdeen. Scully took off after the pair. Scully may have had the head start, but Goo's longer legs allowed her to catch up to Scully allowing both to greet Standish at the "Memorial to Our Confederate Dead." Goo gave a reverent nod to the statue before verbally accosting Standish. "Counsellor, unhand that man." Priscilla Standish was never talked to that way. She was a scion of a old Boston Family, valedictorian of her high school class, graduated top of her class at Harvard. She turned to give this backwoods law clerk a piece of her mind. But, the two facing her were not the calm sweet ladies at the luncheon table. The shorter of the two had unbuttoned her jacket, allowing better access to the 9mm pistol at her belt. The slight smile on her face did not reach her eyes. Her eyes were cold dark sapphires, no humour, no humanity. They were saying one thing, "Let my partner go." The taller of her lunchmates was not making even the show of smiling, the mouth was set in a straight line, the weight was forward on the balls of her feet. She was ready for any conflict the LA lawyer would want. "Tampering with a witness is a serious crime in the great State of North Carolina, and being arrested for same will prevent you from representing your client," she quietly said. Standish wasn't stupid, she quickly backed away from Mulder, she knew she was staring at worse then death, disbarment. Mulder backed away and almost fell onto a park bench. Standish looked at each before she turned and walked off, giving her hair an angry shake. "Talk to me guys," Goo interrupted, "What the hell is going on here." Her voice never raised, but both Mulder and Scully could tell that answers were going to have to be forthcoming. "Goo, can this wait for your office," whispered the still shaken Mulder. A quick nod, and Goo led them back to her office in the Courthouse. Once there, she told the secretary to hold all calls and sat the agents down. Standing in front of them, leaning on her desk. "Ok, what gives. I don't care what you two do in your spare time, but if it effects this case, I need to know about it ASAP." Mulder sighed. "I knew Priscilla Standish 6 years ago when I was still in the Violent Crimes section. We lived together for a while. But it didn't work out when she started to resent my travelling, and I didn't like her clients. So when she got the job offer in LA, it was a nice clean break." Mulder still remembered the nasty fights over what each did. And when the LA job offer came, she took it without talking with him, expecting him to follow her. And when he couldn't, wouldn't, it ended a relationship that was already dying. "Agent Mulder, I am sorry for any trouble that telling me may have caused you. But as the Prosecuting Attorney for this case, I need to know anything that may jeopardise the case. If you remember or discover anything that you feel might jeopardise this case, please tell me. I will hold anything you tell me in the strictest of confidences." He shook his head. The ringing of the telephone stopped the discussion. "Goo." A couple of "Ah-huhs" and "Okays" later, Goo hung up the phone. "That was Doris, Judge Fitzpatrick's secretary. The Judge wants to meet with Thomas Bullfinch, the head of the defense team, and myself to discuss the arraignment. The meeting will be at 3pm and he wants the two of you to attend at least the beginning of the meeting to answer questions about the evidence that has been collected. And by the way, you will hear me use the term 'Uncle Freddy' when referring to Judge Fitzpatrick, he is my mother's older brother. But, it will not effect the case." Scully and Mulder nodded to show understanding. They gave Goo a quick briefing of the important points of the case. All too soon, they left for the Judge's Chambers. Goo opened the frosted door, and waved the two agents in ahead of her. As soon as she entered the anteroom, she noticed that 'Priscilla' was sitting in one of the office chairs along the corridor wall of the room. Being intentionally rude, she walked past the LA attorney right up to the secretary. "Doris, may I introduce FBI Agents Scully and Mulder. They are the arresting officers in this case. Agents, Doris Chapman. She is the Judge's office factotum and knows more about the court system in Goff county than anybody alive." "Glad to make your acquaintance, Agents," Doris said while shaking their hands. "Goo, Mr. Bullfinch, the Head Defense Counsel, is in talking with the Judge. I'll let him know you are here. Agents, please have a seat. The Judge will want to talk with you shortly." Scully and Mulder sat down in chairs catty-cornered from Standish. Mulder tried to sit in the chair farthest from his exlover, but Scully took that one with a smile. Mulder gave a cold smile back and sat down between the two beautiful but deadly women. It was plain by her tapping hi-heeled foot, that Priscilla was not a happy camper. "I should be in there," Priscilla said out loud. Scully leafed through an old magazine, barely looking at the pictures. She was rather thinking about this 'Priscilla Standish', She looked up at the brunette and smiled. She went back to the magazine. "I did the research, I did the briefs, why am I sitting out here?" Standish thought. Smiling at Scully, she asked, "Is he still messy, Dana." Scully favoured Priscilla with a big smile, a smile that did not reach the eyes. "No, my dear, he is very neat. When he spends the night at my place, he does not make a mess in the bathroom, and helps with the breakfast dishes," the redhead sweetly said. Mulder thought. "He still take up all of the bed," Standish asked, perhaps not quite so nicely as before. Scully sighed, "No problem there either. He lets me have all the bed I need, whether at his or my place." Mulder could see Priscilla seethe, but before he could help calm things down, Doris interrupted. "Agent Mulder, Judge Fitzpatrick wishes you to join them." He sighed his relief and followed the secretary into the inner sanctum. He was impressed, the walls were of walnut, the floors oak. And the man standing behind the desk was even more impressive. He stood a tall 6 foot 3 inches, still as straight as a ramrod. His hair was white and short-cropped. He looked still the hale and hearty man. He stuck out his hand and gave the FBI agent a firm handshake. "You have met Miss Livengoo, the DA. Agent Mulder, this is Thomas Bullfinch, the Chief Defense Counsel. Mr. Bullfinch, FBI Agent Fox Mulder." Fitzpatrick quizzed Mulder why they stopped the Anders car and what they found in the car. "Let me remind everybody that this will strictly be an arraignment hearing, not the trial itself. I expect that everybody will keep that in mind when writing and filing briefs." Standing up, "That is it. Thank you for coming to this meeting. I am certain that we will see each other more than we will wish. Good Day." Goo thought. Scully and Standish reminded her of a couple of cats that were itching for a fight. "I'll see you latter, Doris. Let's go back to the office, gang," she said looking at Scully & Mulder. The walk back to the office was quiet and uneventful. Once they got back to the DA's office and the door was closed, Goo started, "Don't worry about Judge Fitzpatrick. He is hardnosed, but pretty fair." "That is good news," Scully said. They discussed how best to build a case against Anders. "We can't count on that diary you found in the car," Goo told the agents, "According to your arrest report. It was still 'locked', and if they can make a big stink about 'self-incrimination' that diary becomes 'poisoned fruit' and any subsequent evidence becomes worthless no matter how damning it might otherwise be." How to get around that problem was the thought on everybody's mind. They had a good case against her with finding the dead body in her car, but the more dead bodies the better. "People who keep diaries tend to write things in them," Mulder advised. Both Goo and Scully gave him a 'No Shit' look. "FBI psych studies have shown that serial killers often record their exploits. And if we can independently find other deaths that match her MO, we should be able to get Fitzpatrick to give us a warrant to 'search' her diary. The only problem is to find a map of the abandoned mines and wells in this area." Both Scully and Mulder caught Goo's slow smile. "You have came to the right place. While 'Mr. Livengoo' is not a DA, he is a surveyor who had the pleasure of surveying much of Goff and the surrounding counties. And my mother did the cartography and she kept copies of all of her maps at their home office. I can pull one of their county maps and select some areas to start checking in." She checked the wall clock. "It's getting late, how about we meet tomorrow morning at the Aberdeen dining room for breakfast at say, 8:30, and then come back here and review my selections. I'll bring some detail maps and one of the sheriff's deputies can guide you. Sounds good?" Mulder and Scully voiced their approval. "We'll check in on Ander's at the Jail, then call it a night ourselves," Mulder said. Goo thought, turning off the lights and locking up the office. Section 4 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll Part 4 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com --------------------------------------------------------------- 6:30PM Monday, 6 March Courthouse Steps, Aurora North Carolina "Scully and Mulder find out what it is to be wanted" ------ Exiting the bronze doors of the Courthouse, Scully and Mulder were met by a scene that Dante would have struck from his "Inferno." Illuminated by picturesque hissing gas lights, the streets around the Aberdeen, their hotel, were jammed with myriad reporter's cars, TV station vans, and even a tractor-trailer emblazoned with the CNN logo. Scully noted with amusement that one of the best spots was filled by a Omni with a 'North Carolina Public Broadcasting' decal. Mulder noted the same Omni, but that it was blocking their motorpool Taurus. But the media interest in their prisoner was not remarkable knowing her family's importance in Hollywood. When they got to the jail, Anders was not happy. She had problems getting the fingerprinting ink off of her skin. The food was not tasteful. Mulder and Scully stuck their heads into the cell block and got an earful of her billingsgate. But a check with the jailer told them that she was getting quality care. Now they could sit down at dinner without worry. They were waiting at the traffic light about a block from the hotel when Sheriff Steve Grimes walked up beside them and surveyed the scene at the hotel for a second. "Evening, Agents. Eaten yet," he asked with a smile on his face. "Hope to," said Scully. "But with the activity around the Aberdeen, I don't know if there will be seating available." "I wouldn't worry too much about seating. You can always order room service. But there may be other problems. Your two have gotten very popular all of a sudden." Enjoying their confused looks, he continued. "I got a call from my niece Gail, the night manager. She told me that there were some bigwig Hollywood lawyers there who had registered this morning. And they were asking to be put on the same floor as ya'll. Wasn't that right friendly of them?" "Yeah, 'right friendly'," Scully replied. "It will be a madhouse going through the lobby, with the fourth estate wanting interviews. Any suggestions, Sheriff?" "Mind sneaking through the kitchen," he asked. At their nod of agreement, "I didn't think so. We can go in the kitchen door and then up the service elevator to your floor. Any questions?" There were no questions. Grimes led them through the alleys of downtown Aurora until they got to the kitchen door. He was about to open the door when he heard a movement behind him. He turned and saw a man standing there in fedora and trenchcoat. "They got the other entrances covered. And there are people waiting outside your rooms as well. Darlings of the media again, Scully and Spooky," the mysterious figure spoke. "This is Sheriff Steven Grimes, identify yourself," Grimes told the trenchcoated figure. "Jerry Riggins of the Tattler-Tribune. If you allow me, I will pull out my press pass," came the identification. Mulder did not know if he should be happy or shoot the person. "Riggs," he asked. "Yes, Spooky, it is I," he responded. Sheriff Steve Grimes had seen a wide variety of things occurring in his years of police work, but this was the worst. "What are you doing here, Mr. Riggs," he asked. "Waiting for Mutt and Jeff here," he said. "I knew that if they tried to go through the lobby, they would be mobbed. Knowing that they are too intelligent to allow that to happen to themselves, I asked myself, what would be the best alternate route. I looked around the building, noticed that the main service entrance was already manned by one of my colleagues. I then decided to make use of a little known exterior door." "And you are now . . .," asked Scully. "As my fellows are doing, searching for quotes and interviews," Jerry told her. "How do you know this man," asked the sheriff, a bit of edginess getting into his voice. A sigh of resignation. Mulder decided to explain, "We met Jerry Riggs while on a case in the Midwest. It was a rather nasty one, and I must admit, Riggs did a good job as a journalist that time, he informed his readers without blowing everything out of proportion and without violating confidences. Scully and I can't say anything now, Riggs. When we can start talking about the case, I will look you up." "OK. But I will try to interview other people in the community." "Sheriff, with Rigg's mention of people on the floor where Mulder and my rooms are, I do not think that even if we got to the room, we would be able to sleep well. They would be knocking on the door all the time," said Scully. "Not to mention, that having the lovely Priscilla Standish staying in the room next to Mulder's would raise some questions," Riggs quipped. thought Mulder. Scully thought, "Any alternate hotels in town, Sheriff." "'Cept for the Aberdeen, there's a couple next to the main highway, but last I checked, one had been closed down for health violations, it was so bad the hookers wouldn't go there. And we raided and closed down the second because the manager was running it as a whore house." The sheriff remembering who was with him said, "Pardon me, ma'am." A couple of seconds pause, "Let me make a phone call." He walked into the kitchen's office. When Jerry tried to follow him, a hard glance from Scully stopped him. He raised his shoulders as if to say, "Can't blame me for trying." A quick dialling of a number and ... "Goo here," was the gentle answer to the phone. "Sheriff Grimes here, Goo. We got a problem with those FBI agents." thought Goo, "What's your words of joy, Steve?" "The agents were staying at the Aberdeen. And it's crawling with reporters. And the defense team is also staying there." "Thanks, I think," responded the blond DA. "We could reopen the Vinoy. There's a couple of rooms that are still usable. Put Scully in the old 'Nuns' room. And put Mulder in the 'Little Girl's' room with all that lace. What do you think, Goo?" She heard the laughter in his voice. Picturing the straight- laced federal agents spending the night in what had been the local bordello, she could but respond with a "Right. Sure. Great idea, Steve." . A idea came to light. "Have you or they eaten yet?," was her question. "Nope" "Bring them up here. I'll fix supper, and they can stay here the night. I've got the rooms. Think you can get somebody to get their stuff out here tomorrow morning?" "Yup. I'll drive them up, their car is blocked. I'll have Gail get their stuff out, and have one of the officers drive it up". "Sounds like a plan to me," said Goo," I'll expect you soon." Riggs stepped up to the redheaded agent. "How is he doing, Dana." he asked lowering his voice. "Ok up to now, Jerry," Scully replied. "We've been on the case now since before New Years and he still hasn't hurt himself yet. A minor X-File there." Riggs responded with a whistle and a "Good job, Spooky." "I don't hurt myself that much," Mulder said, following the conversation. He leaned against the brick wall of the hotel. His hazel eyes were closed, body relaxed. Scully looked at her partner and lifted an eyebrow. "Tell that to the insurance department sometime. I'll want to watch that." A moments pause, "Mulder." "Yes." "How many rounds are you carrying," she asked. Riggs eyes got wide, the olive-skinned reporter thought. "I donno. I've a clip in the Glock, and two spare clips," he answered, eyes still closed. Anybody looking at their relaxed bodies and not hearing the words would think that they were discussing sports, or perhaps the weather. "That, my Glock, and your ankle gun, should get use about 40 rounds. Let's go hunt us some defense attorneys," the redhead joyfully said. "They're causing us to lose sleep, let's return the compliment. And by the way . . ." "What Scully?" "I get Standish." "You can have her. But, Scully, let me remind you that two of the witnesses for the prosecution shooting the defense team, would probably prejudice the case against the prosecution," he informed his partner. "Spoilsport." A moments pause. "I've got an idea. Let's go bag us some reporters." Mulder shrugged. "Riggs," he said, his eyes still closed. "You're in trouble now, she's a good shot. Better than I am." "Now that ain't saying much, Mulder. My mother is better than you are. How's this Riggs, we'll give you a 30 second lead. Just run for your car," Scully said. Riggs was uncertain about this. Mulder and Scully were not known to be violent, but . . . "Scully, I hate to break your bubble, but shooting the reporters will not help us sleep." "Why not, O partner of mine," she responded. Riggs was getting nervous. She had pulled her Glock out, and was checking the clip. "While Skinner wouldn't give a damn, you know FBI regs as well as I do. We'd have to fill out a form for each bullet expended, a form for each bullet that missed the target, and two forms for each person we hit. That would keep use up until about the middle of next week. Don't think it's gonna work. And on top of it, Skinner would expect me to at least try to stop you. And then you would have to shoot me. Think of the paperwork then. I have an idea." "Come out with it." "We could always stay at the bordello, you get your choice of rooms," Mulder said. "Mulder." "Yes, Scully." "That was the dumbest thing I have ever heard coming out of your mouth. First you have to be a killjoy, ruining all of my fun, then you come up with stupid ideas. Next thing you will suggest is to get us arrested for loitering." Riggs was never so happy to see an officer walk up. "Mulder . . . Scully, I have found you room and board for the night," Grimes said coming through the doorway. Mulder turned his eyes to Scully. Seeing her faint nod, he said, "As long as it isn't the Goff County jail, we'll bite. Sorry, Riggs, we have to go." Jerry sketched a wave as good-by. The sheriff led them out of the kitchen and half a block away. "Goo has a couple of spare rooms at her place. I doubt that anybody will have a problem with the chief investigators staying with the DA." Mulder and Scully exchanged glances and nods. "Lead on Sheriff Grimes, we'll try it tonight, " was Scully's reply. (continued in 4b) (**Note: I lied. My editor doesn't like this part... it's in 3. - SciNut) (continues from 4a) 8:00PM Monday, March 6 The Livengoo Residence "Where Scully is glad that there was no room at the inn" ------ Goo was her mother's child. Daughter of one of the best hostesses in Goff County, she went to work. Chicken and Dumplings started cooking in the Dutch oven using scratch biscuits and some chicken she had cooked and frozen. Home canned green beans was the vegetable and the frozen apple pie she had made during the harvest, would go in the oven to be baked for desert. A quick run by the linen closet and the guest bedrooms were set to rights. was Mulder's thought. Happy for the hospitality, but uneasy about staying in somebody's house. He hoped the nightmares that was his lot after a case like this one wouldn't keep everybody up. Scully was uneasy about staying in somebody's home. Mulder had his nightmares and Scully was uncertain about staying in people's homes. Too many weird visitors with guns. And that's just Mulder's friends. As they drove up the gravel driveway, she could see Goo standing in the open door, beside her a mastiff- looking dog. She heard Mulder humming some song which she couldn't quite place. At Scully's questioning look, "Hotel California, The Eagles," he quipped. Scully's fatal glare made him smile wider. Gone was the polished barrister, meeting them was the tomboy that had been waxing her car, now dressed to greet callers. She had changed to a robin's egg blue Oxford cloth blouse, and a pair of gaberdine slacks, and replaced her heels with loafers. The agents recognised Angus and Kiss, a Rottie and Siamese Cat that they had seen playing the prior afternoon. "Welcome to Brick House, please come in," she said, inviting everybody in. "Dinner will be served in about half an hour. If you would like to freshen up first, I can show you to your rooms now." Grimes said wanted a cup of coffee, so he headed to the kitchen. Angus had the idea that he needed to inspect the guests. "Please stand still for a moment. Angus takes his job as chief of security very seriously and just wants to smell who are. See, there, he likes you Scully," Goo said, watching Angus nuzzle her hand to scratch him. Scully favoured Goo with a faint grin. She did not mind dogs, liked them even, but this one was bigger than she was. But he seemed very happy to let her scratch his head without trying to jump up on her. "Your rooms," a question. At their nods, Goo led Scully and Mulder up to their bedrooms, pets following. Mulder had the front bedroom across from their hostess's. Scully's occupied the opposite corner of the second floor sharing a bathroom with Goo. "When you are done, please come down the stairs, and head towards the back of the building, we will be eating in the kitchen," was Goo's request. Grimes was just finishing his cup of coffee when Goo walked into the kitchen. "Thank you for taking them in, Goo. You would not believe the media circus over at the Aberdeen. Everybody wants an interview with the FBI wiz kids." "Makes sense to me. And I've got the spare bedrooms here," Goo said. "And it is nice to have somebody else sitting at the dinner table for a change." "Ah Goo, I've got to scoot, Martha's been keeping dinner warm waiting for me." "Of course," she laughed. "Well when you get home, say hi for me." She saw Grimes to the door and went back to the kitchen. Everything was doing well on the stove, so Goo started setting the table. Mulder had the pleasure of a top of the line telephone in his apartment. The first autodial button dialled Scully's home phone, the second, her cell phone. The third was the Lone Gunman. He never did set up a button for the FBI building, and the remaining 17 were a variety of takeout and delivery places close to his apartment. Scully often chided him on his inability to cook, but still asked him where the best Thai take out was in DC. So to come into a kitchen and smell cooking food and see china on the table as a shock. He had expected cold sandwiches, he hadn't expected a full cooked meal out of the deal. He rapped on the doorframe with his knuckles to let her know he was there. She had heard him walk through the dining room on his way to the kitchen, so the rap did not surprise her. "Good evening, Agent Mulder," she said wiping her hands on her apron. "I hope you like chicken and dumplings." "Yes, I do, thank you. I seem to have gained a shadow here," he said looking down at the sealpoint Siamese that had followed him into the kitchen. The same cat that was now looking around the room, sniffing the air as it did. "Good," she replied. "It's a bit strange. Kiss generally does not like men, and she seems quite taken by you." Both smiled as the cat arched up and rubbed its muzzle against Mulder's pants leg. "The food is ready. As soon as your partner joins us, we can start eating. By the way, is there a nickname or first name I can use when we are away from the office, I feel a little odd calling you by 'Agent Mulder' all the time." She saw his slight smile, a smile that told her that this was not a good subject, and that after tonight, drop it. "No nicknames I approve of, and I do not like my first name, I even made my parents call me 'Mulder'." As a woman with a nickname based on the last syllable of her last name, she could appreciate it. "Then Mulder it is. Do you think your partner would like some iced tea?" "Yes, thank you," they both turned, hearing Scully's voice. "Those are delicious smells. Chicken . . .," a quick, almost cat-like sniff, "an apple pie, maybe," Scully finished with a quick grin on her face. (continues part 4c) (continues from 4b) Goo quickly decided that she liked the carrot-top agent. "Chicken and dumplings with an apple pie for desert," she laughed. "It is ready and we can start eating. And please sit down, I'll handle the food." The food appeared on the table almost like magic. The Dutch oven took it's place of honour in the middle of the table, flanked by the green beans and a basket of bread. Scully expected to be disappointed. The smells had been good, but she had ran into too many 'amateur' cooks that had much greater opinions of their cooking than it deserved. This was not the case here. This food was not pretentious, but was well done. The dumplings were light, the chicken well seasoned, and the green beans were not the typical factory canned. What totally emphasized the quality of the food is when Mulder, one who had told her on several occasions that ketchup on a hamburger counted as one of your vegetable requirements for the day, finished off the green beans. And Scully herself broke a longstanding rule and had a slice of apple pie with her coffee. "Thank you very much for dinner, Goo," said Scully, "This is the first good meal we have had since we were put on this case." "Yes, Goo, I must second my partner's comments. This was a very good meal," Mulder said while getting up. "Here let me help with the dishes." "No need for that, I can take of things easily enough. Please sit for a moment and I'll have things cleared off," Goo said. And it was but a few minutes and they were looking at some large scale county maps. They were looking for areas where Anders seemed to like to dump the bodies. Mulder started to doze off fairly early so Scully led him off to bed. Scully was worried. Mulder and her had been under a lot of tension with this case. Tension that would cause Mulder nightmares. And she did not want problems with the DA because the AIC had the screaming-meemies. She walked with him to his room. Goo was waiting in the hall when she closed his bedroom door. She couldn't keep the surprise from her face. Goo chuckled as she handed Scully a tray. "A little something to help him sleep, chamomile tea and cookies. I'll meet you downstairs." Scully could but watch the blond go down the stairs and out of sight. She looked the tray over, a small teapot under a cozy, a cup, and a saucer of cookies. She pushed the door open and looked in at her partner. Mulder was still awake, still looking tense. "Goo dropped off a midnight snack for you," she said setting the tray down on the dresser. She poured the tea and took a sip. she thought. She added a couple of spoonfuls of honey, stirred and took it over to her partner. "Drink," she told him. "Scully," he sighed tiredly, "This is nice of Goo, but I don't want tea right now. Nothing with the slightest touch of caffeine." Scully had brought over the cookies and sat down on the bed. "She told me it was 'A little something to help him sleep.'" She tried one of the cookies. she thought. "Enjoy." He made a face at her and drank down the tea and ate a couple of the cookies. "Good cookies," was his only comment. He was asleep in 3 minutes. Both of Scully's eyebrows did their arch trick. she thought. She checked his pulse and respiration. Both were fine. She collected the tray and went back to the kitchen. "How did it work," Goo asked the redhead. Scully looked at the blond for a second and set down the tray. "It worked great. He went to sleep in about 3 minutes. What was that tea and where can I get some?" Goo laughed. It was a warm, hearty laugh, one that a person would erupt with when the work is done, and it is soon time for bed. "It is an herbal tea called 'Nighty Night' that I buy at Ra's Herb Shop on the square. It includes chamomile, catnip, and hops." "I'll have to get some to take home. It is hard to get him to sleep at times. Especially when he has been dealing with a stressful case like this one." "And after you return home, they do mail orders and orders via the Internet." At Scully's questioning look, she continued, "Even holistic herb shops have entered the electronic age." Goo's face got a bit solemn look on it. "Scully," she started. "Go ahead and call me 'Dana'," Scully said. Goo smiled, "Dana, you indicated that your partner sometimes has sleeping problems when he is dealing with stressful cases. What kind of cases do you normally deal with?" Scully looked forward, not really seeing anything for a moment. "Mulder and I normally work on what is called the 'X-Files.' These are odd FBI cases that resist solution. We review and research them trying to find solutions. We are sometimes successful. Before the X-Files, Mulder was assigned to Violent Crimes where he did psych profiles on serial killers. And like with the Anders case, they still occasionally call him in on the cases that nobody else can get an handle on. Part of what makes him so good, is that he can get inside the perps head. The downside is that sometimes it is hard for him to get back out. And that is when the nightmares start coming. Cases that involve children seem to bother him the most." "What has made this case especially hard is that we got called in about 3 months ago. The trail was already ice cold. And the perp especially good at not getting caught. Women are not normally pegged for being serial killers. So Mulder and I have spent the last 3 months solid living in backwater motels, eating diner food. The only break we have had is once going back to Washington for more clothes." Goo sat sipping a cup of tea, thinking for a moment. "What are your demons then, Agent Dana Scully?" Scully jerked like she had just been shot. "Mine," she gave a quick, humourless laugh, "are dealing with the dead and their family. I crack open the victims, try to determine how they were killed. That would be bad enough, but I also get to deal with the families of the victims. I don't have the nightmares, but I loose my share of sleep. "It really isn't always that bad. The work in challenging and it feels good when we close the file or bring in the perp. We are both pretty much workaholics, so the long hours isn't that bad." Goo sat for a moment shaken by the FBI agents revelation. "At least this one is in jail," said Goo. "Yea, but Mulder is saying that Anders has two accomplices that are still on the loose. They may not be as dangerous as Anders, but they are still in the woodwork," replied Scully. "Got anymore of that 'Nighty Night' tea. Goo quietly made two more cups of the sleeping draught and handed one to Scully. They saluted each other, tossed down their chamomile tea and went to bed. Section 5 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll Part 5 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com --------------------------------------------------------------- >From Smalltown, USA A series by Jerry Riggens This is your columnist Jer Riggins with another column as I tour through American Smalltowns. Today finds me in the pleasant town of Aurora, North Carolina. It is a small town. A town that is prosperous, a town of little crime. It makes me think of Andy Griffith's Mayberry. Someplace that you would like to live and grow old in. That image was shattered scarcely 48 hours ago by the arrest of one Cathy Anders, a serial killer. She was captured driving down the highway with the latest of her dead victims in her automobile. How can this be, you ask. Crime this violent, this cruel, in the Heartland. But it happens, and we have people sworn to protect us from it. And two of the finest we have, found Cathy Anders, and brought her to account for her crimes. The two I refer to are Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. They have devoted their lives to the capture of those that would prey upon use. And their lives for the past two months have had but one purpose, catch the person responsible for the heinous killings of our state and federal employees. Let me describe these two heroes. Fox Mulder is a handsome man, slight of build, a little over 6 feet tall. He makes use of his Oxford Doctorate in Psychology to figure out how serial killers think and how to stop them. He calls it 'doing profiles', others call it a 'minor miracle." Dana Scully is the daughter of a US Navy Commander. She selflessly applies her skills as a forensic pathologist to discover how the criminal killed there victims. She helps collect the evidence needed to convict the criminal If it wasn't for the selfless devotion to justice these two have exhibited, Cathy Anders might still be out there killing us. We need to salute FBI Special Agents Dana Scully and Fox Mulder for capturing Anders. We also need to salute unsung heroes in our cities, our towns, our hamlets that also selflessly search out those that would hurt us. This is Jerry Riggins, signing off from another one of America's Smalltowns. Aurora, North Carolina. 5:00 AM March, 7 The Livengoo Residence "The fate of those who rise before the sun" ------- Mulder put the handset back in its cradle. He had gotten up at his normal time, his body telling him that it was time to run, to forget the world as he pounded the pavement for 4 miles. But his running shoes were at the hotel, and he didn't think his wingtips would do the job right. Then the night dispatcher at the sheriff's office had called to tell him that a deputy would be out shortly to drop off their clothes. A pleasant bit of news. Might as well wait by the front door. It was still dark when the halogen beams of the Crown Vic's headlamps cut through the gloom of the early morning as it pulled to a stop in front of the house. Mulder walked down to the gravel of the driveway to greet the deputy. "Fox Mulder," the deputy asked as he got out of the car. "Yes." "Then these are your and Scully's clothes," the deputy said opening the Ford's trunk. Mulder looked over the bags in the trunk. Scully and him had travelled so much together that he knew her bags as well as she did, and they were all there. "Thanks officer," Mulder said as he reached for a bag. "Sorry sir, some identification first," the officer interrupted. "With some of this being crime investigation notes, I would like some proof of identity before turning it over." Mulder was taken aback for a moment, he thought for a moment. Noting the name tag on the deputy's shirt, "Fine, Deputy Green." He pulled out his FBI badge and handed it to Green. "Thank you sir. Let me help you with some of this," Green said handing the badge back and picking up several suit cases. "Harry Green, is that you," Goo's alto intruded into the conversation. Green grinned and looked up to the woman standing on the veranda. "Yes, ma'am. Just bringing out the FBI agents' clothing and effects. "Good for you, when you get done, gentlemen, please come back to the kitchen for some coffee." She turned and went back into the house, leaving the front door open. It did not surprise him that 'Security Chief' Angus was watching the proceedings. It took but one trip for Mulder and Green to carry the bags back into the foyer. When they got back to the kitchen, Green set down a box he had brought in from the car. Nodding her thanks for the cup of coffee Goo handed him, he opened the box, and pulled out a folder and several bags. Mulder thought recognizing the official police bags that various stacks of papers were packaged in. Including his jogging shoes, All of the evidence that he and Scully had collected was safely packed in the vault at the "Merchants and Growers Bank" in town. Taking a swig of the hot joe, Green opened up the folder. "I had Gail go and collect Dana Scully's things, just seemed the right thing to do sir." The young man swallowed, "We had some problems collecting what was in your room, sir. The papers and other effects were quite scattered, very unlike your partner's..." He swallowed, looking quite embarrassed. "So I made use of training I received in a recent seminar in evidence collection the county sent me to and 'collected' the contents of your room." He handed Mulder the folder. Mulder read over the contents of the folder. He was impressed. the kid had done a very good job noting where each pile of papers were, and the bag they were in. He was slightly embarrassed that a couple of the notations were for his effects, 'British Knight Running Shoes, men's, white, size 11 1/2' was on one of the lines. "You did a very good job here, Green," he said looking over the folder at the deputy. "This is an FBI quality job." Green's face opened with a big smile. It was no small praise for a small town cop to be told that he had done a job equal to that done by the FBI. He stood a little straighter before responding. "Thank you, sir." He swallowed, then continued, "This may look like Mayberry, And sometimes, we act like a bunch of hicks, but the problems we are dealing with are a little harsher than Andy dealt with. Sheriff Grimes believes that the crime traditionally associated with urban areas will start filtering to the small towns. And that the department needs to know the tools used by the urban police departments to combat crime. Thus I was sent to a evidence collecting seminar held by the State Bureau of Investigation. Techniques used in your room at the Aberdeen." Mulder stood there for a second. He hadn't thought of the locals as 'hicks', but he had used the Mayberry label. "I think Grimes is being a wise man, preparing for the future. And I think you will be valued member of the department if you continue doing work this good." Green was beaming by now. "Thank you, Agent Mulder. And thank you, Goo, for the coffee." He shook Mulder's hand and left. Goo took a quick look up at the wall clock. It was showing 7 o'clock. "Mulder, would you and Dana prefer eating then getting dressed for the day, or getting dressed first." He took a second to look at his hostess. He felt suddenly totally grungy next to her. She was already dressed in a pressed blouse and fitted skirt. And he was wearing clothes he had put on over 24 hours ago. "Changing, then food. Scully and I have been wearing these clothes for the past 24 hours, and I know that I would like to change before doing much more." "Suits me. See you and Scully back here at 8 o'clock." A quick nod, and Mulder headed up the stairs. A quick knock on Scully's bedroom door and Mulder passed in her suitcases. He carried his back to his room, and cleaned up. Precisely at 8, Scully and Mulder showed up in the kitchen. "Good morning," Goo said, "Breakfast?" Scully was amazed at the spread of food on the table. "How would you like your eggs," Goo asked. "Scrambled, over- easy, sunnyside-up," was suggested. Scully, amazed at what was spread before her, was now overwhelmed by a choice of how she wanted her eggs. She glanced at her partner, "Scrambled?" At his nod, "Scrambled please." "Fine, sit down then and start. I'll be there in a minute," she said, whipping half-dozen eggs and pouring them in the pan. Scully knew that she normally did not eat much breakfast, when she sat down and Mulder passed her the sausage. But also knowing that it would be rude not to eat, took a couple of pieces along with a small bowlful of grits. Before she could get her coffee poured, Goo was serving the eggs and sitting down herself. Mulder thought, adding milk and sugar to the yellow gruel that Goo had served. taking a bite, "Dana, I think we got ourselves a Yankee, here," Goo drawled. Scully looked up from her plate to see Mulder putting some sugar on his grits before eating more. "Yup, He sure is," Scully drawled back. "Mulder, what are you doing to your grits," she asked. "Grits??" "Yes, grits. Boiled, ground corn. As long as you have lived in DC, you never had any." his partner asked. Looking from Scully to Goo, "No. Breakfast is generally a muffin or bagel, you know that Scully." The ladies laughed, and Mulder soon joined in. Breakfast continued quietly. By the time half after 8 had rolled around, the table was bare of food and the last of the coffee had been poured into the cups. "Goo," Mulder started, "Scully and I would like to thank you for your hospitality. With the problems at the Aberdeen, I was uncertain where we would be able to sleep. And serving us this wonderful breakfast was surely more than necessary." "You and Dana are more than welcome. If I hadn't shown you proper hospitality, they would have drummed me out of the 'Daughters of the Confederacy'," she replied in mock seriousness. The ringing of the telephone interrupted the discussion. Goo got up and picked it up in the kitchen, "Goo." "This is Harold Stephens of the State's Attorney's office. George Sherman and myself have been sent from Raleigh to help you with the Anders prosecution," said the scratchy voice on the line. "Fine, I will need the help. Shall we meet at my office at the Courthouse. Say at 10 o'clock." "We will be there at 10. Can you tell us where the FBI agents that did the arrest? We would like to talk with them." "I'll have them there at 10 as well," Goo answered. "Good, we'll meet you at 10 at your office. Goodbye." "Goodbye," she responded and hung up. She gave Scully and Mulder a synopsis of the conversation. "One question, if I may. How long to you expect to stay here in Aurora?" "Skinner, our boss, wants us to stay in town for another week. That will put us here through the arraignment and allow the defense team to ask us any questions it wants. This is a righteous bust, and he doesn't want to lost due to some technicality," Mulder responded. "Then why don't you stay here. I've got the room, and it will be nice to have somebody here for awhile." Scully and Mulder gave each other a quick look. Scully turned to Goo and said, "Thank you very much for your kind offer. We will accept." Any place where Mulder slept the night away, is a great place. Goo smiled her response. The next several minutes were spent discussing the habits of the house. Goo was excited about the prospect of having roommates for a while. She liked the old house, But with her retired parents working with Habitat for Humanity in Ohio, she got lonely living by herself. They soon found themselves by Goo's Karmann. Mulder was looking down at the sports car with a bit of trepidation. He wasn't sure he would fit in this car. Goo could see the worry build on his face, then decided the cure. "Follow me," she called over her shoulder as she walked back to a 4 stall garage. Scully and Mulder looked around in amazement as they looked at the selection of vehicles inside. The first bay held an Jeepster, the second a Humvee, the third was empty, and the fourth was obviously for the Karmann. "Mom and Dad have the Cherokee, lets take the Jeepster." She started the red touring car and while it was warming up, opened the garage door. After she pulled the car out, Mulder lowered the garage door and jumped in himself. "It's a bit cool for leaving the top down," Goo said. "It was originally my father's. He needed something a little bigger than a Jeep, but with 4-wheel drive. When my older brother, Thomas, got a hold of it, he upgraded the engine and running gear from a CJ-5." Scully found the Jeepster to be comfortable enough, a lot more comfortable than the M151's her father had buzzed around while on Navy bases. She enjoyed looking out the windows as they drove into town. The signs of spring were everywhere. The grass was starting to turn green, the swings were back up at the playgrounds (and being used), and shopkeepers were putting out tubs of flowers in front of their stores. Definitely a change from the often miserable weather they had gone through tracking Anders. By the time they were parked behind the courthouse, Scully was feeling nice and warm and at peace with the world. 10:00 AM Tuesday, March, 7 District Attorney's Office "Revelations" Goo had met with her staff, a secretary and a single law clerk, right after getting in. She had introduced the FBI agents and brought them up to date with the current case load. And now it was 10AM and the gentlemen from Raleigh were 'big city' right on time. Goo resisted asking them if they set their watches by the federal time standard in Boulder. She made the introductions. The gentlemen from Raleigh also got right down to business. Herald Stephens started, "Ms. Livengoo, this is a big case, one that is surely as big or bigger than the O.J. Simpson case. We are here to help you with the extra work that prosecuting this case will create. We suspect that the defence team will try to avalanche your office with briefs, requests for discovery, and other paperwork. This is done in the hopes that your office will be overwhelmed and make mistakes. We are here to try to prevent it from occurring." Goo mulled it over for a bit. She knew that Harold was correct, She and her team were not ready for this sort of case. "Ok, I'll buy into this. I can get you office space here in the courthouse. And I know of two hotel rooms at the Aberdeen that you can use." Scully and Mulder shared a smile at that one. Mulder thought. The rest of the morning discussion went well. Harold and George seemed to know what they were talking about. The idea of trying to find as many bodies made sense to them too. "Goo," George said, "Why don't you work with Scully and Mulder finding the bodies. Harold and I can handle responding to their paperwork, generating responses for you to review and sign. This also gives us the advantage of not being able to give them immediate replies if they ask for one. If you are out of the office, they will have to wait until we discuss our options before replying." Everybody said it sounded like a good plan. As it was lunchtime, Harold and George were going to check in at the hotel and with Raleigh. Goo, Scully, and Mulder agreed to pick up sandwiches at 'Chicago Pizza and Pasta,' a pizzeria on the square, and eat them sitting on a park bench. It seemed a waste to sit inside on such a beautiful day. "A moment Goo," Harold asked. "Mulder, please pick me up a 6 inch number 4, hold the oil, and a bag of BBQ chips," Goo asked, passing him a bill. "I'll meet you in the park. I'll be able to pick the two of you out." Mulder and Scully nodded and left for the pizzeria. "Ok, Harold." "Goo, I don't know how to bring this up," Harold started. "I've always found that beating around the bush just tires everybody out," said Goo. "We checked out Mulder and Scully with the FBI offices in Raleigh and Charlotte. They are a odd pair." At Goo's puzzled look, he continued, "Mulder has the nickname of 'Spooky Mulder' around the FBI. He was one of the up and coming young turks doing psych profiles on serial killers. Psych profiles that were almost biographies of the killers. Then one day, he switched from being a hotshot to holing up in the FBI basement working on unsolvable cases. The rumour around the bureau is that he is not stable. "Scully has been assigned to him for almost 3 years now. She is a well respected pathologist. She disappeared for about 3 months two years ago. The official word is that she got kidnapped. The unofficial word is that nobody, including herself, really knows what happened those 3 months. "On the positive side, they work exceedingly well together and have one of the best success records in the bureau at this time," he concluded. "Why tell me this? It's rumour and innuendo at best," Goo asked. Her voice was cool. She did not like rumours and half truths being spread around. "Because these two are our best witnesses. It was his profile that made them look for somebody like her.. She will be doing many of the autopsies of the victims. Would you rather have me bring up this BS now, or have Standish or one of the defense team bring it up and discredit a witness?" "Good point, I'll think on it. Now if you will excuse me, lunch is calling." Goo walked out of the Courthouse and across the street. The park was a nice double block, but not so big that two people as distinctive as Scully and Mulder would not be noticed. she thought. A shouted "Goo" broke her reverie. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed that she had walked past the two agents sitting on a parkbench. "Goo," Mulder shouted again. "Alright already," Goo shouted back, turned around and sat down beside Mulder. He passed over the waxed paper wrapped sandwich and paper cup of iced tea. She unwrapped the sandwich and started eating. The three passed the time comfortably. The sun was warm. The air was cool but comfortable. The young mothers were out with their babies pushing them around in perambulators. Goo could hear songbirds starting to practice their songs. It was a nice warm day, a day to feel safe in. But with a serial killer in a jail that was normally empty, and warnings about your house guests, it was hard to feel totally warm and safe. She shivered. When Mulder turned and asked, "Cold". She gave him a weak smile. "Got some bad news. Doris called just after you left. The arraignment has been moved up to today at 2:30. You two should plan to be there." Mulder looked at Scully, Scully looked at Mulder. "Cool. No big deal. We'll be there. Then tomorrow morning we can start looking for remains," Scully said. "Mulder," Goo said, turning to the Agent.. "A question, if I may." "Sure, Goo." "Why were you there at the exact place to capture Anders. There was over 100 officers involved, with over 30 checkpoints and roadblocks. It is amazing that the two of you were at the exact place to arrest her," she asked. Mulder sat for a second deep in thought, "Based on the past behaviour of the suspect, coupled with the MO of the disposing of the bodies in rural areas off the main roads. And based on the point of abduction, the county is rural enough, it seemed a logical conclusion that this would be her target area. North Carolina 19 goes through the least populated part of the county. Therefore, that's where we were." Scully broke in, "He had a hunch. By the way, that is not of public consumption. The FBI is a scientific crimefighting organisation. We do not play hunches, we analyse data and draw conclusions." Everybody laughed. It was time to leave the park and re-enter the world of law. Goo walked back to her office to coordinate things with Doris. Mulder and Scully walked to the Jail to check in on the prisoner. Two o'clock rolled around and the procession started. It appeared a burlesque, 6 people escorting a lone woman to the courthouse. A sheriff's deputy led the way as drum major, a Remington automatic shotgun as baton. The prisoner, clad in bright orange coveralls, manacled and fettered, was between a burly state trouper, and a prison matron who looked like Hulk Hogan's twin sister, the one that still beats him up regularly. Following behind was the grand marshal and his entourage, Sheriff Grimes with Scully and Mulder. It was quite an impressive sight. Mulder whispered to Scully, "There are still two out there. I know there is. She is just too small to manhandle some of those victims. And she does not match the description in some of the cases." "Mulder, you may be right, but as of Monday, we are off this case. Let's go home, talk with Skinner and see what we can get moving." "I just hope that there isn't any other killings. Get rid of the head wolf in a pack, the other wolves still keep killing." The arraignment was a formality, but a formality that had be fulfilled. Goo stood up and read off the charge, Murder in the First Degree. The defendant tried to enter a guilty plea, but was quieted by Bullfinch, the Chief Defense Attorney. Goo requested that there be no bail, that she was a significant flight risk, and that she should be hold for possible extradition to other states or the federal government. Bullfinch tried to request a high bail amount. Judge Fitzpatrick decreed no bail due to no ties to the community. Bang! Bang! Court was no longer in session, take the prisoner back to their cell. Section 6 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 6 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 5:30 PM Tuesday, March, 7 Courthouse Square Aurora, North Carolina "Parade" ------ Mulder and Scully again joined the parade back to the jail. It was a not a quiet walk. The route thronged by journalists and cameras. Many of the high powered journalists stayed at the courthouse to interview Bullfinch and Goo. Or at least until after Anders was locked back up. When exiting the jail, both Mulder and Scully were jumped by the media. They tried to stay together, but all too soon, Scully was being interviewed by 'E!', and Mulder by the BBC. It was almost dark by the time both were done with the fourth estate. The peace and quiet of twilight was a counterpoint to the noise and bustle of the day. Scully could hear the crickets in the grass, the sounds of birds chattering. Mulder was amazed by the greetings of the people on the street. The two agents received several offers of home-cooked meals. And graciously turned them all down. By the time they got back to the Courthouse, the purple twilight had faded and the velvet night had fallen. The deputy guarding the front door, let them into the building. Once inside they quickly made their way to Goo's office. She was ready to head for home too. The day had taken its toll on the blond. Her clothes had lost their crispness, the energy gone. "Harold and George headed for the Aberdeen dining room. You two like 'gumbo'?" At their nods, "Good, I've got some cooking in the crockpot at home. I need to pick up a few things before heading home, would you like to wait here or tag along." Scully decided to tag along, Mulder was going to settle the bill at the Aberdeen. "Got your cel phone, Mulder," Scully asked. Mulder smiled and pulled out his Nokia, "Never leave home without it." "Fine, I'll call you when we are done, you can meet us at parking lot," Scully finished. Scully discovered that she enjoyed the shopping trip with Goo. When she and her partner had left Washington, it was a cold and snowy 3 days after Christmas. And the Appalachian mountain weather had been horrible most of the time since then. She remembered times when it seemed they were more at risk from driving off some snow or ice slick road, then from the serial killer. But here in Aurora, it was comfortable, the people were pleasant, and both the Aberdeen and Goo's home were comfortable places to rest your head. And as important, her partner was getting reasonably good night's sleeps, something he did not always get at home. Goo stopped at a store on the north side of the square. The gold-leafed sign on the window said "Ra's Herbs and Spices." Scully got a feeling of claustrophobia just walking through the front door. As she followed Goo to the back of the store, she winded her way between and around numerous old bookcases and cabinets pressed into duty as display cases. There were handmade soaps, bags of herbs promising to protect your clothes from moths, and bunches of herbs and spices hanging down on threads from the rafters. The smells of lavender, bay, and clove filled the air. The woman in the back of the store was just a little taller than the FBI agent, still wearing the 3 inch pumps she had worn for the arraignment. she thought enviously seeing the freckled woman's midback long brown hair. She was perched on top of a stool behind a counter and the cash register. "Hello," Scully opened. "Hello. Welcome to my herb shop," the woman responded. "Care for some tea?" Remembering some of the medicinal teas she had bought from Ra in the past, Goo's eyebrows went up. Noting the question of the guest's faces, Ra put their questions to rest. "Goo, it's Earl Grey." Everybody had a laugh, and Goo made the introductions. The woman was Ra Enright, owner and shopkeeper of "Ra's Herbs and Spices". "Goo, what brings you out on such a pleasant evening?" "Coffee. Do you have any chicory coffee in stock." Goo asked. Scully suddenly remembered the different taste to the coffee Goo had served that morning. She had thought it was due to the local water, but tastes matched. "Yes. I just got a shipment in from Grandma's," Ra replied. Noting the quizzical look on the redhead's face, "A coffee roaster in the French Quarter of New Orleans." "Three pounds then. Ground, please," asked Goo. During a second cup, Scully made arrangements to 'Internet-order' some teas and spices in the future. She suspected that Ra's "Nighty-Night" was going to be a standard item in her medical bag in the future. "So you like your coffee with chicory," Scully asked as they walked down the sidewalk towards the courthouse. "Yes. One of my uncles had . . . shall we say . . . an attraction for the French Quarter of New Orleans. So the family got into the habit of drinking coffee with chicory. And we have continued to do so for almost a hundred years." Scully reminded herself. In many ways, it was all too soon they found Mulder at the parking lot. It was just that nice an evening. They piled into the Jeepster and headed back to Goo's. 8:00 PM Tuesday, March, 7 The Livengoo Residence "Frontsteps and Rottweilers" ------- Goo was lost in thought as she drove back to 'Brick House.' , Goo thought. Pulling into the gravel driveway ended the reflection. Seeing a parked car and two shapes on the porch, put all three at alert. Goo parked the roadster so that the headlights illuminated the veranda where the two shapes where. The first everybody quickly recognised as Angus, conscientiously guarding HIS house. The second unfolding itself to be a olive skinned man dressed in suit and trenchcoat, fedora coming off and held in his hands. Goo vaguely remembered seeing him at the Courthouse after the arraignment. She cut the lights and the three walked to the steps. "Gerald Riggens, at your service," he said by way of introduction. Goo looked him over for a few seconds. He was an olive-skinned man, black haired, with perfect teeth, and a broad smile. He was dapperly dressed, a Savile row suit, a shirt that looked custom, and he even had a small rose in his buttonhole. "And, you, madam, are Miss Hyacinthmae Livengoo, Esquire, the District Attorney," he asked in a smooth baritone. "Your business, Mr. Riggens," she asked in a formal alto. "To meet you. To have a bit of conversation with Agents Scully and Mulder." She thought for a moment, "Scully, Mulder. Do you know this gentleman," she asked without turning her face from him. Riggs knew that he was not facing some country bumpkin. His research told him that she had gotten her J.D. at NCSU in Raleigh. That her speciality was land law, a 'Dirt Lawyer' like his friend, Emma Courtland. That she had been tricked into being the local DA. That she was smart, able, and could shoot straighter than he could. He was in many ways, on trial. Scully spoke up first. "Riggs is all right, for a member of the fourth estate. We met him during a serial killer investigation." "For an investigative reporter, he actually did not get in the way of the investigation. Scully and I can talk with him in town in the morning," Mulder finished. "You have a presspass, sir," Goo asked. Riggs knew that he had lost a point by not mentioning his choice of careers. He pulled out the little leather folder with his Chicago Herald-Tattler and Parade presspasses in it. she thought. "I am afraid that a press pass issued in Chicago or New York is not worth the paper it's printed on here in North Carolina," she said handing the folder back. "Have you dined, Mr. Riggens?" The question took him aback, "No 'mam." "Then please come in. If you can resist interviewing the Agents or myself, you are welcome to join us," she told him. "Thank you, Miss Livengoo. you have my word of honour," he responded. He was not amused by Mulder's snicker. "Very, well. And please call me 'Goo'. Only salesmen and people trying to get something from me call me 'Miss Livengoo'. Let Angus here smell you. That will help him understand that you are a guest, and not an intruder." That act done, the three followed their hostess in. "Dinner will be served in about 30 minutes in the dining room. Mr. Riggens, there is a bathroom on this floor if you would like to freshen up before dinner. Will everybody please meet me in the dining room when they are ready." While Goo walked down the hall to the dining room doorway, and from there, the kitchen, and Scully walked up to her room to change, Mulder and Riggens looked at each other, not totally comfortable in each other's presence. Riggens knew too much about him, to have Mulder entirely comfortable in his presence and Riggens knew of the mortality rate of those around Mulder. Kiss, wise in the things that only cats know, could feel the unease that the new human felt towards her friend. She walked over to the new human, meowed to get his attention. Riggens reached down to the cat, smile on his face, saying, "Pretty kitty." Kiss lifted his head and sniffed at the hand, and swatted him in the leg. Claws out. When Riggens yiped and pulled back, Kiss walked away and up the stairs, wondering what sort of trouble she could get that stupid Rottie into that evening. Riggens looked up and saw the agent looking down at him, a smug 'shit eating' grin on his face. Riggens also saw the Siamese rub against the agent's leg, and the hand slowly reach down to scratch its head. A loud purr told everybody whose side the 'kitty' was on. Goo met Scully in the dining room, a scarce quarter hour later. "Please be frank, Dana. How trustworthy is Riggens," she asked the agent. "Actually not bad. Mulder is fonder of him than he is of most reports. And, by and large, he's fair. And he showed that he can keep his mouth shut during that prior investigation" the titian-haired agent replied, helping Goo set the table. "Good," she replied, looking over the polished oak table. It was set for four people, silverware and china, napkin and waterglass. She heard a throat being cleared in the doorway to the hall. It was Gerald Riggens. she thought to herself, seeing him in the light. Not that she had anything against those who dressed well. She had changed from a pinstripe business suit to a silk tee and a pair of fitted slacks, herself. 'Clothes don't make the man, Hyacinthmae,' her Uncle Freddy once had said, 'But they give you a damn good idea of what he is made of.' Savile Row suit, handkerchief, silk shirt, spit-polished tasselled-loafers, even a rose in the lapel. "I hope you enjoy Cajun cooking Mr. Riggens. This evening, we are having seafood gumbo and rice." "That sounds wonderful, Miss . . . Goo. And you must call me 'Jer', everybody else does." "Everybody except me, Riggs," Mulder interrupted. "And everybody knows that you, Mulder, must do things your way," Jer responded. Scully laughed at that. Dinner was a simple affair of seafood gumbo, steamed rice, and iced tea. Jer turned out to have both the good manners and amusing stories of a good dinner companion. His stories of the shenanigans of the Chicago politicos had everybody in tears. That reminded Scully of some of the antics that the residents pulled while she did her residency. Goo related some of the silliness of NCSU campus life. Mulder related some of the more humorous things he had seen at the FBI. Coffee and cake was enjoyed in the living room. Conversation was quiet, humorous, and had nothing to do with the case. When the 'Grandfather' clock in the hall started to strike 9PM, Jer started to rise to his feet. Goo followed his example. "I am happy that you came by. You amazed me by not mentioning the case at all. Please come again some time." "Thank you for your invitation. May I call upon you tomorrow at your office," Jer asked. "Please do. And good night," she responded. Mulder walked Jer out to his car while Scully and Goo cleaned up after desert. "Frankly, Mulder, how is the case going," asked the Chicago reporter. Half surprised to hear Riggs not tease him with 'Spooky', Mulder decided to be straight with him. "Fairly well. The bust was by the book. Finding a dead body in Ander's car helped a lot. We should get a conviction," the hazel-eyed agent answered. The two men looked up into the clear night sky. They stood quietly, neither wanting to break the quiet. They might not totally trust each other, but they trusted each other more than they trusted most people. "You surprised me Riggs," Mulder said. Watching Riggs' eyes look at him, he continued. "I expected you to pump Goo for information over dinner." "You cut me to the quick, Mulder. Do you think that the only thing I think of is to get the news." Seeing the look of amusement on the agent's face, Riggs continued, "I will not abuse hospitality by questioning my hostess or her guests over dinner. Tomorrow at the Courthouse . . ." He shrugged, both knowing that the rules would be different. They both let at go at that. Jer got in his beamer and headed back to town. Mulder watched as the car hit the street and disappeared into the night. He walked back into the house and closed the door. He heard the noises of china and talking from the open doors to the living room. Looking into the living room, he caught the tranquil scene in front of him. A fire was burning merrily. Goo was sitting curled up in a overstuffed chair, reading a file. Scully was sitting, legs tucked underneath her, reading one of those professional journals she always seemed to have with her. Remembering the copy of the Raleigh 'News & Observer' in his bedroom, he decided to join the ladies in enjoying the printed word. "Meow," Kiss was happy seeing his friend come in the bedroom. His first name was 'Fox', the cat had been told. the Siamese cat thought. Arching his back, he rubbed his muzzle against his hand and arm. This, in typical cat efficiency/laziness, both told the silly biped that he wanted to be scratched as well as marking the hand with the cat's scent. Mulder got the message and started to scratch the cat's head while looking for, and finding the newspaper. the cat thought excitedly. Kiss continued while following Mulder down the hall and stairs. Finding no easy place to spread the sports section, Mulder sat on the floor, spreading the pages on the well polished hardwood. Opening the section up, he started to read an article about the upcoming tournament when he heard the sound of ripping newsprint. All eyes were on the cat as he very carefully removed the words, 'Wolfpack,' from the basketball ratings column. "Wolfpack," Goo asked. Mulder looked up and nodded. "Thought so. She has never been fond of 'doggie' named sports teams. She does love the Carolina Panthers, though." she finished. Mulder nodded his head, as he finished reading the sports section with the destructive cat. The grandfather clock stuck eleven o'clock as the two agents eyes met. Goo could never figure out how they communicated, but decisions seemed to be made. Mulder stifled a yawn, "Anybody else for bed," he asked. Scully looked up and nodded her agreement. "Why don't you two bathe, while I finish up this file," Goo suggested, trying to be the good hostess. "And you first, Mulder, I'm finishing up this article and will be a few more minutes," Scully suggested. Mulder nodded his agreement, folded his newspaper, and started up the stairs. A minute or two later, Scully yawned, and made her excuse, she would go upstairs and wait for Mulder to finish. Goo nodded her concurrence and went back to her peaceful reading. Goo's head shot up when she heard the yell from the floor above. It was Mulder's tenor that broke the peace. "Goddamn it. I'm going to kill you, you little bastard. Yow, it hurts." Angus ran up the stairs. Goo followed, her files and briefs forgotten. Scully was at the door, gun in hand, listening. "Stay back," the Federal agent hissed. Goo stayed back as Scully opened the door and slipped in. Angus understood 'Stay', but he did give a quick look up to make sure what Mommy wanted. She was 'staying', so Angus stood, weight on his forepaws, muzzle up sniffing the air. A slightly wet Kiss, came out of the room just after the agent slipped in. Angus nuzzled the cat, inspecting it, trying to find out if anything was amiss. Goo looked down at the cat as she started to clean her paws. And Scully burst out laughing. Goo thought. She pushed open the door and the three walked inside. Scully was leaning against the bathroom doorframe, laughing. "Everything is OK, Goo, Angus" she snickered. "That's easy for you to say, Scully. You didn't have a cat try to flay your back," Mulder said between gritted teeth. Remembering her cat's habit of sitting on the edge of the bathtub complaining when Goo showered, she asked, "Did Kiss fall in the tub?" "Yes," Mulder grunted. "She tried to climb up you to get out of the water, didn't she," Goo asked. "Yes, she did." Scully burst out laughing again, arms over stomach, leaning against the doorframe. "Please . . get me . . my . . doctor's bag, . . . Goo," Scully asked between laughs. "Waitaminute," Mulder got out, "There's nothing wrong, they're just scratches, everything is OK." "Mulder, If I don't look at them now, they'll get infected, you'll end up in the hospital in one of those silly gowns you just love. And I'll have to tell Skinner what happened. Won't the guys in Violent Crimes love hearing this tale." Mulder groaned. "Um, Scully, I'm in the shower." "So." "I'm not in the habit of wearing clothes while taking a shower." "So. I've seen your butt before, isn't anything that I didn't see in anatomy class, or cut up last week during an autopsy. Don't worry, I'll send Goo out of the room first to preserve your modesty. But then," Scully continued, "Goo has brothers. I doubt that you have anything they don't have." "Funny, Scully. Funny." Goo handed her the bag. She couldn't help the smile on her face from the byplay. "Dana, please tell me how things end up. I feel a bit responsible, being that it is my cat and all." "I'll fill you in, Goo. I doubt that there is anything I can't handle.." "Thanks. I'll be downstairs in the kitchen making tea. Do you want me to boil some water," she asked, not able to help but to continue the joke. Mulder groaned. "No need for boiled water, I've got iodine in my bag." Another tenor groan. "But when you make the tea, make Mulder's catnip." "I'll get you Scully. I swear, I'll get you." Both heard the muttering from behind the shower curtain. Goo left the bedroom, Angus in tow. She got to the head of the stairs when she heard a shout, "Keep that damned cat away from me. It's injured me enough." She heard Scully crack up again. She smiled all the way down the stairs. Half an hour later, Scully walks into the kitchen. Goo hands her a cup of hot tea. Scully sips, gives Goo one of those 'What's this' looks. "Catnip tea. Its good for the digestion. Honey," Goo asks, handing Scully the honey pot. Scully shakes her head no. Goo can see the fatigue in the droop of the petite agent's shoulders. "Did you have to do much reconstructive surgery," Goo asks. Scully holds still for a moment, obviously thinking about what Goo asked, then her face brightens with a smile, "Very little. Only about 3 stitches and 6 feet of first aid tape. Patient is laying on his side reading a magazine, perp is curled up on a pillow purring." Goo smiles her joy at the news of little damage. Hands Scully a plate of cookies. They companionably stand, sipping their tea, eating a cookie each. Or at least eating what Angus doesn't mooch. Section 7 follows. ============================================== Appalachian Idyll - Part 7 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 7:30AM Wednesday, 8 March Second story hall, 'Brick House' "Missing Items Revealed" ------ "Dammit Mulder. What did you do with my hose?" Goo could hear the exasperation in Scully's voice from the kitchen stove. She hurried up the back stairs. She could see the petite agent standing in front of her partner's door, rapping on it with one hand. Dana Scully had searched her luggage for her pantyhose. Twice. Even that fresh package that she had bought in some no- name town in Georgia two weeks ago and hid in the back of her suitcase had disappeared. She could find the rest of her clothing OK. she thought. Angus could see the tension in his petite friend's body. She was pacing around the bedroom, peeking into dresser drawers, behind the bathroom door, through her luggage. He wanted to help, but didn't quite understand what she was looking for, not quite having a need for clothing himself. She finally stopped in the center of the room. Arms folded across her chest, she slowly turned and looked around the room, going through her memory of places she had checked. All she had left to do was her hose, skirt, and shoes. "Angus, you didn't see anything did you? You are an observant animal, you would notice . . . Dana Katherine, you are losing it. Asking a dog if anybody has stolen your clothes." She stood there, clad in her underwear and crepe de chine blouse. A growing realization that there was only one person that would pull something like this. Scully thought. The woman had to meet with the defence team that morning at nine o'clock to be grilled. She knew that she needed to look her best. So she had pulled out her 'Going to court' suit, a silk blouse, and some sexy underwear. She wouldn't normally wear a black lace demi-bra and bikini panty set while working, but it was a bit of psychological game playing. It gave her a edge wearing the very feminine underwear under that cool professional exterior. And to look like a professional woman, she needed hose. And the only one around here that would even think about making the hose part of a joke was Mulder. And the joke was that her pantyhose was missing. Instead of her state-of-the-art nylon and spandex, she found little fancy gift boxes, exquisitely covered in brocade, tied with ribbons. Boxes with no names on them. One held a pair of black silk garters, with little bows the same color as her lipstick. A couple of the boxes had black hose, one had a pair of blue, and the last had a pair of sheer green hose. She pulled on her robe and stormed to her partner's room. She knocked once and barged in. Mulder was standing there in front of a mirror, tying, what was to Scully, a tasteful tie. "What is the matter, Scully," he asked. It was the wrong thing to say. She walked up to him, invaded his space, and started poking him in the chest. She talked in a low calm voice, the only sign of her agitation was punctuating each word she said with a jab to his chest. "You ask me what's wrong. I've got a meeting with the defence team and YOUR GIRLFRIEND this morning. And you make some stupid joke stealing my pantyhose. Give them back Mulder!" He raised his hands in supplication and surrender. "Scully, I swear to you that I have not done anything to or with your pantyhose," Mulder said in his defense, backing away from his partner. She did not let him out of reach. She followed him, jabbing him with each word, until he backed into a chair and sat down. And stared directly at the finely polished and filed index fingernail. "Then who the hell did take them? Are you, an Oxford educated genius, suggesting that Angus or Kiss took them? Goo knows better then to mess with another woman's clothing. So that leaves you." An especially hard jab. "So give them back!" "Scully, I did not nor have I ever touched your pantyhose. If I wanted to pull a joke like this, there have been other times that I could have pulled it easier." Goo had been standing there watching the two agents argue. "It is Uncle Harry. He did it." Scully and Mulder stopped arguing for a minute to look at Goo. "Uncle Harry??" they said in unison. "Yes, Uncle Harry. He had or has a thing for dressing well, and . . . I think your pantyhose was something that he did not like. He has . . had definite preferences on how women dressed. He hates pantyhose. Dana, Mulder did not steal your hose, Harry did. Do you find a pair of silk hose?" At Scully's nod, she continued, "That proves it. Mulder did not steal your pantyhose, Harry did. And the silk hose he left should fit, and fit well. I'll explain everything at breakfast." Scully turned to her partner. "I tell you this Mulder. If I find out that you had anything to do with this, or EVER do anything like this, you will wish that Skinner was riding your ass. You will get down on your knees and pray that Skinner rescues your lousy ass. For when I am done, there will none of it left." Mulder saw the anger and frustration flash in his partner's lovely cerulean eyes. "Yes, ma'am," he meekly responded. Goo turned and started down the hall. the redhead thought. It had been quite some time since she had worn hose and garters, but still remembered how to pull them on. And the feeling of the silk against her legs and thighs was seductive. "Goo," she said to get Goo's attention. "I apologise for this morning's outburst. Mulder and I do not air our disagreements publicly. But this morning, the stress was just too much to hold inside." Goo looked over at Dana. She could see the redhead standing a little straighter, standing a bit taller on highheels. It was a look of a confident professional. It was a look that Goo was familiar with, one she had perfected herself for use in court and French restraints. "Don't think of it. I never thought to mention 'Uncle Harry' to the two of you. I trust the hose fit well." "Quite, thank you." Scully saw Mulder walk into the dining room. "Well, how are you feeling," Scully asked her partner. Mulder was feeling, sorta OK. He never articulated it even to himself, but he wasn't going to give his partner the pleasure of thinking that her joke was getting his goat. He hadn't been able to find any of his 'goofier' ties since the first morning staying with Goo. He looked at his partner warily. "Fine, Scully. Good morning, Goo." Goo only listened with half an ear. she thought. Scully had confided to Goo that she was stressed over the meeting with the defence counsel that morning so Goo made a light breakfast of Belgian Waffles and fruit. Scully finished off the second waffle and turned to Goo. "Thank you for the making the waffles. I trust they were not too much work," Scully said as thanks. Mulder added his nod. "Not at all, just used mixed them up using biscuit flour. And some fruit I had put up last fall. No problem at all. But, let me explain about Uncle Harry," Goo said. Scully could see that the younger woman was uncomfortable. She reached out a hand and patted Goo's. Goo flashed her a smile. "I am sorry for the problems this morning. I had not brought up 'Uncle Harry' because I did not think he would bother you, you being guests and all. But I was wrong. Harry must have felt like you had become like family. "Most buildings much over 50 years old have resident ghosts here in the South. And 'Brick House' is no exception." Scully shot a warning look at her partner that told him NOT to jump in. He ignored the warning, this was much too interesting. He smiled at Goo and leaned in closer to listen. Goo felt self-conscious about the story that she was telling. 'The best way to handle any problem is head on,' Harry himself was known to say. So she continued. "And 'Uncle Harry' is ours. He was one of my great great-grandfather's younger brothers. He worked as an apple salesman for a Goff county apple co-op about the turn of the century. He travelled a lot, picked up a taste for chicory coffee that the family has kept to this day. He was also a fine dresser, and liked those around him to dress well also. Particularly women. He had a devout interest in the fairer sex, as they were known to say." Goo smiled, "What we would call today a womanizer." She stole a quick look and was pleased to see both paying attention. If Mulder leaned any more forward, he would fall off the seat. Scully may be sitting back listening politely, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. "When he died, it was a big deal. The menfolk of the town wanted to show their appreciation of what he had done for this county by giving him the grandest funeral that had ever been seen in the history of this county. They told the family that they did not want anything to disturb Uncle Harry's well deserved rest. One of the men's groups got four adjoining plots in the cemetery, another had shipped in a solid bronze casket from Raleigh. According to newspaper accounts, the grave was dug an extra 10 feet deep, and the first reinforced concrete vault used in western North Carolina was built there. The Arch-bishop from New Orleans came up to handle the service. The other ministers of the faith assisted. They wrapped his hands with a rosary said to be blest by the Pope himself. The casket was brazed closed after the ceremony and wrapped in a ship's anchor chain. The chain was locked, and the lock sealed with wax by the Arch-bishop. They placed a foot thick slab of granite over the grave in addition to a magnificent head stone. Some people have claimed that there is a crucifix carved in the underside of the slab. I don't know, but I do doubt the claims that they put a oak stake through his heart." Scully spoke out at a break in Goo's story. "They took a great deal of care with your Uncle's grave. Is there any information as to why?" Goo leaned back in her chair, "It is well known that Harry had, as it was said, 'a fine appreciation of the fairer sex.' And it was known, that they appreciated him too. Ladies came in from all over. The newspapers report trainloads of women coming in from Raleigh. They came in from as far away as Chicago, New York, and New Orleans. Even today, there is a bed and breakfast in the old 'Storyville' section of New Orleans that has a room that bears Uncle Harry's name. It's a covenant in the deed that a room of any building on that property would bear his name. "And the birthrate in Goff and a couple of the surrounding counties dropped significantly 9 months after his death. "In the here and now, people living in this house have discovered that they need to dress . . . correctly. It is correct to wear casual clothing when doing something casual, but if it is a dress situation, you had better dress well, or Uncle Harry will correct it for you. He doesn't destroy things, he just hides them, replacing them with items he considers more appropriate. "Does your Uncle ever do anything with men's clothing, or does have a thing for only the ladies," Mulder asked. Goo laughed, "Oh Yes. I remember Christmas's when we gave my father ties. And the gaudier ones being replaced with proper school ties." Scully burst out laughing. Goo and Mulder started looking at her. "So that's what happened to your ties, Mulder. I noticed that you were wearing tasteful ties for a change. Drats, I had hoped that you had gotten some taste." She sounded disappointed. Mulder gave her one of his puppy dog looks. "And I thought that you liked my ties, Scully." Scully gave him one of her raised eyebrow looks of utter incredulousness. Her fair face soon broke into a smile and they all laughed. They soon left for town. Mulder driving the Taurus. The windows were down, bringing in the warm spring breezes and sounds. The birds tuning up for the spring symphony. The rich smell of just turned earth drifted through the open windows. It was the sights and smells of the rural South in Spring. Scully and Goo hurried up to Goo's office to get ready for the defence team and their questions. Mulder, feeling a certain responsibly for the prisoner in the jail, walked over to the jail, received an earful of Anders, and then stopped in the sheriff's office. Section 8 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 8 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 10:00AM Wednesday, 8 March Sheriff's Office, Goff County "A call on the locals" ------- The room was reminiscent of the "Andy Griffith" show, or maybe "In the Heat of the Night". Locked cabinet of rifles on one wall, dispatcher in front of his console speaking into a mike. The faint smell of gunoil and leather, coffee and Danish that seems to follow policemen around. The wave of a Stetson in the back of the room caught his attention. He walked back, dodging desks and chairs until he got to the chunky Southerner. "Good Morning, Sheriff Grimes," Mulder said. "Good Morning, Agent Mulder. How is the G-Man business, this morning?" Mulder laughed along with Grimes at the friendly joke. "Fairly quiet," he replied. "Have any bank robberies that need solved?" It was Grime's turn to smile. "Last one was, 'bout 20 years ago. Trail'd be a bit cold by now," he paused for a moment. He brightened up, "Got anything planned for this morning" he asked with a smile. "No. My partner is fielding questions from the defence team this morning. I am going to join her and Goo for some field work this afternoon." Mulder knew that something was up, the smile had just too much fun in it. "Good, I would like your help with something. Deputy Fitzpatrick, John Fitzpatrick, will be checking out some reports of vagrants at a unused cabin this morning. And with your comments that Anders may have had accomplices . . ." Grimes could see the interest in Mulder's hazel eyes. "Fine, when does Fitzpatrick plan to leave?" "Right after your next cup of joe," Grimes responded with a smile. Mulder smiled his appreciation and a moment latter, Grimes pored coffee into a cup with Mulder's name on it. "When you are done, rinse it out and hang it on the rack here." Seeing Mulder's confusion, he elaborated, "It's a something one of the deputies picked up at a Boy Scout campout. Assign everybody a permanent cup and a space to put it. No more disposable cups." Mulder nodded. He looked over the setup while sipping his coffee. he thought to himself. The thought made him chuckle. When Fitzpatrick looked up, Mulder just smiled and shook his head no. Done with his paperwork, John led Mulder out to his International Scout. Opening the back gate, "Go ahead and get in, I need to get Fifi and Pierre," John told the Fed. Mulder got in the passenger seat of the Scout and latched the seatbelt. <'Fifi'? 'Pierre'?? What sort of police dog names are they? What does John have, a couple of teacup poodles,> Mulder thought, chuckling. The image of two balls of fluff gnawing around a perp's ankle added a twinkle to his eyes. Mulder turned around as he felt the Scout bounce as first one, then a second heavy weight landed on the open tailgate. coursed through his mind. And came nose to nose with a monster in black and mahogany. It was a Rottweiler, watching him, his mouth open just enough so that the agent got a good view of the flesh-rendering teeth. And so that the tongue could comically slip out the right side. And there was a second one, maybe a little smaller, sitting beside it. "That's Pierre in front of you, Fifi is sitting behind me," John's voice interrupting Mulder's testicles retraction into his abdomen. "Pierre, Fifi," Mulder croaked out, eyes not leaving the dogs. he thought. "Yes," John responded, starting the Scout. "They're good dogs. Pierre's about 150 pounds, . . ." "Interesting names," commented Mulder, relaxing. "Yea. Just seemed to fit, though. Rotties being such big gentle critters and all. Goo's Angus is one of their pups. Runt of the litter" "What do you know about the house we're checking out," Mulder asked, looking out at the passing spring countryside. "It's the old Roger's place. Family been renting it out to skiers and vacationers for the past several years. I called them in Ohio this morning and they haven't had any body staying they for the past month. They seemed happy that I was going to check it out." The dogs watched the humans for a few minutes, and when it seemed that they were not going to get a snack or attention, they like all good carnivores, slept. "What is it like, working for the FBI," Fitzpatrick asked, interrupting Mulder's reverie. Mulder asked himself. "Not as much fun as Efram Zimbilst, Jr had. There's a lot of surveillance work. A lot of travel to little backwater towns that make Aurora look like a busy metropolis. Scully and I have stayed in fleabag hotels in little places like Yeehaw Junction, Florida, Mantoon, Illinois, Atomic City, Idaho. Our boss is an ex-Marine who would ride my ass all the time except for OSHA regulations. But he is also there when we need him. There are some positive sides of this job, you get generally interesting cases. And if you need technical help, it's only a phone call away. Half the time I spend in a dark basement office profiling serial killers, the rest of the time, Scully and I take on cases that the FBI have labelled unsolvable." "Mulder, it sounds to me like this job sucks the big one. If it is as bad as you describe it, then why do you stay with it," John asked Mulder. "Because in my ten years of doing this, I have put away more than my fair share of killers and rapists. That is what makes this job bearable." Fitzpatrick hazarded a quick look at the 'Fed'. he thought. "We're here. I'm going to park here on the road as not to disturb any evidence," John said. Mulder approved of Fitzpatrick pulling off the paved road and checking out the dirt driveway of the house. The two found a faint pair of tire tracks. "Nice sized tires," Mulder remarked. "Yes, they look like maybe truck tires," John commented, writing down notes and measurements in his notebook. "Mind if we walk back there. It's only a couple of hundred yards, and less chance of disturbing evidence." "OK," Mulder said, getting out his trench coat, John, his parka and a camera bag. The wisdom of Fitzpatrick's suggestion was proved walking. They found several more places where there were tire tracks and several bent branches. Branches bent at just the right height for a normal sized van. Mulder enjoyed the walk. The air was crisp, the sun was shining, and the buds were starting to open. The two dogs walked to either side of the men, Pierre to Fitzpatrick's left, Fifi, to Mulder's right. Mulder admired the way the sun glistened on the dog's shiny coats. The dogs walked, no pranced, down the driveway. It was obvious to the Agent that they were enjoying their walk in the sun. A slight sound made him look over at John and Pierre. Pierre was looking up into his master's face, with a look of pleading that even Mulder could read. "Go ahead, you two," John softly said to the two dogs. The dogs broke ranks and ran off together into the woods. "Little chance of finding any decent evidence here on the driveway," he told Mulder almost apologetically. The dogs had rejoined the primates by the time they had gotten to the house. They walked around it together surveying the place. Fitzpatrick had a small video camera out videotaping the exterior. "Just making a record," he told the G-man. It was a nice little house, Mulder decided. It was single story, about 30 feet square. The roof was shingled and the walls were aluminium siding. There was a small lawn around the place and a ill- maintained grove behind it. They found a place that might have been a parking place for a truck or van. The house itself proved to be a bit of a disappointment. A broken window in the front door had allowed someone to bypass the doorlocks. The two men checked out the house together, John doing most of the checking, Mulder letting him run the show. He liked what he saw in the Deputy Sheriff. He knew how to investigate a scene without destroying evidence. After checking the living room, they moved to the kitchen. "You know, there is something about this place that doesn't add up," John told Mulder looking through some cupboards. "This place is too clean. Vagrants don't have much invested in a place and tend to be messy, if not outright destructive. But here, . . . they didn't do much. Except for a little ash in the fireplace and the broken window, there's nothing." Mulder hadn't done much in the way of 'vagrant' investigations, but had to agree that something was off. Something was making the hairs on the back of his head raise. He had been in the field too long, not to know that sometimes his instincts picked up on things that his mind did not. "I agree," Mulder turned around surveying the room. "Something is not right here." "Mulder, come over here please," asked Fitzpatrick. "Got any idea, what these might be," he asked the Fed, pointing out some little red balls. Mulder leaned down to take a better look. They were several little red balls lodged between the kitchen counter and the wall. "Damifino," answered the Fed. "But I do have an evidence bag to stick them in," he continued, pulling out one of the official FBI (even had the FBI seal on it) plastic bags. John lent him a pair of tweezers, that Mulder used to collect as men of the items as he could. They did not find anything else of note in the house. They checked each of the rooms a second time, still finding nothing, still with a feeling of missing something. They got into the Scout, and headed back towards town. They had been driving for a few minutes when the deputy cleared his throat. "Agent Mulder," he said. Mulder knew that he was in trouble when a local starts using the 'Agent' honorific after they have been talking for a while with out it. "Agent Mulder," he repeated. "What do you mean by 'profiles'". Mulder grimaced. "Profiles are perhaps better described with the term, psychological profiles. A profiler takes the information from the crimes, analyses it, and writes a determination of what the perp is like. Part of what you do is to get inside the heads of both the perp, as well as the victim. At one point I was dealing with so many cases, and so much travelling, I had trained my dreams to go through parts of the case. I finally just got to a point where I could not take it anymore. I was able to get a transfer to a less stressful department. Although I still get called in for the cases that the normal profilers cannot make any headway in. Doesn't happen all that often." They drove quietly until they got back to the outskirts of town. "Want some proper North Carolina barbecue, Mulder," John asked. Mulder looked over at the Deputy, "That sounds good, where?" "Buffy's," John said licking his lips. As they pulled it, it looked interesting to the Agent. 'Buffy's' was a smallish place that looked like it had gotten it's last facelift sometimes in the '60s. The exterior was covered in white enamelled panels and there was a 57 Chevy sitting on the roof with a mannequin dressed as a waitress standing beside it. The dining room was shared with a burger joint named 'Biff-Burger'. Mulder thought as he got out of the Scout. Mulder wasn't quite certain how good the food was going to be. He knew that in the South, much of the best barbecue will be found in places the Health Inspector would close down, if it wasn't for the fact the owner was his brother-in-law. But here, the food was good, the iced tea sweet, and the waitress brought out a plate for each of the dogs. Theirs lasted even less time than the humans. "I bet you have a fancy office in Washington," Fitzpatrick stated. Mulder laughed. "Sometimes it seems that you end up with the lousiest working environments possible. Right now, Scully and I work in the basement of the J. Edgar Hoover Building in Washington. It's often dark and hot, but it's not the worse office, I've had. The first was the absolute worst. I was right out of the FBI Academy, and they assigned me to the Behavioural Sciences Unit. While we never could get a straight answer, I still believe that the offices were in some old law enforcement fallout shelter that had built sometime in the 1960's. We were 60 feet down in a windowless sub-basement. It was cool and damp, just the place to put a bunch of psychologists. We used to joke that we buried 10 times deeper than a corpse. There was nothing but florescent light, and the air was sucked down from the surface for us. Well, I had just came back from my first trip out of town, and there was a drill scheduled for that day. A drill that my fellow agents had not bothered to tell me about. Well, the warning sirens sounded, and the ventilation system stopped running. I didn't know what was going on so I started to run for the elevator. I was in the last dash for the elevator when the blast door closed in front of me. I'm starting to sweat when the florescents die and all we have is the emergency lighting. Now I am sweating big time. And they let me stew for about an hour. Then they let me know what was going on. We all had a good laugh about it." Section 9 follows. Appalachian Idyll - Part 9 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 11:45AM Wenesday, March 8 Goo's Office "Pass the lowly pasternoster pea." ----------- Goo and Scully looked up from some papers as Mulder walked in the office. "Hello, Mulder," Goo said as greeting. How was the investigation." "Fine, just fine," he replied as he set in one of the empty sidechairs. "We didn't find that much out there, the place was too clean. It didn't feel right either. Fitzpatrick noted that the place was way too clean for someplace that vagrants were staying at." Scully looked up from her report. Mulder was too right with his hunches and guesses too much of the time for them to be disregarded out of hand. "Did either of you have any idea who may have been staying there," she asked. "No. We did find one thing though, these red beads," he replied. Mulder pulled out the evidence bag containing the red balls and passed it to her. "Got any idea of what these are, Scully?" She squinted at the little objects through the thin polythene. "Not a clue. Doesn't look like . . ." Scully started to say something, then started to drift off, as if something came to mind. She passed the bag to Goo for her perusal. "Mulder, there was something from the lab results of what the victims had in their stomach and intestines. Something about a red powder of some sort." "Yes, there was. They were never quite sure what it was, And by the time the lab got the sample, it was too digested for any good chemistry testing." Goo took a good look at the contents of the bag and something clicked. "Gang," she said quietly. When that did not get their attention, "Dana, Mulder, I think I know what these beads are." Both agents turned their eyes and complete attention to the svelte blond. "At my confirmation, my mother gave me a rosary that had been in the family since 'The War'." The way Goo had said 'The War', both Scully and Mulder were certain it was The War of Northern Aggression, aka, the American Civil War, she was referring to. "The beads in it are just like these. My mother called them 'Paternoster Peas,' and said that they were poisonous." Her eyebrows went up, and the corners of her mouth went up in a smile, "Does this make me a suspect?" "Do we Marandaize her here, or at the Sheriff's Office, Scully," Mulder said in a joking tone. "No, not unless you've been gone alone on business for most of the past 4 months, and we find a large supply of these peas in your house. But," he quickly turned to his partner. "According to your book on poisonous plants, paternoster peas do contain abrin." Scully gave one of these rare smiles that lights up one's entire face and laughed. "We know that the victims died from ingesting abrin. But we never could figure out how the perp got the poison." Taking a good hard look at the bag. "If your identification is correct, we have a link." "And those things are easy to find in Florida and Central America," Mulder commented, remembering the article in the book on poisons. "Goo, we need to get an evidence team out to that house pronto. Neither Fitzpatrick nor I were looking for much in the way of evidence for anything. We probably over looked something." "No problem. I'll call Grimes. He'll want to send somebody out there to keep an eye on the scene. We don't have anybody here in Goff County with this expertise, Grimes will contact the SBI and have them send out a team. I can have a courier take a sample of these peas to the state lab in Asheville for tests. We should know by morning," said the blond DA. A few phone calls, and everything was moving. "Shall we head out on our field trip," Goo asked her FBI companions. As they were leaving the building, they stopped in and filled in George and Harold. They were equally excited with the development and wished Goo and the Agents 'Good Luck' on their hunting. 1:00PM Wednesday, March 8 Foyer, 'Brick House' "Mulder earns himself a kick." ------ Scully was quite pleased with herself. All of her jeans and other 'outdoorsy' clothing was still in the closet in DeeCee, she had packed nothing but suits and dresses when they had left the day after Christmas. But she had found a nice plain blue cotton blouse in her suitcase, and paired it with a charcoal gaberdine pair of slacks. A pair of canvas Keds on her feet. Not the best selections she knew, but the best she could come up with. A noise from Mulder quickly brought her back to the present. Goo was starting to come down the stairs and Scully suddenly felt frumpy, the pleasure of her cleverness fading. She knew that the willowy blond had done nothing special, but she still looked like she had just stepped out of a Vogue layout on camping. The combination of hiking boots, hiphugger jeans, tank top, and a flannel shirt was a natural. Scully remembered wearing the same outfit shopping before Christmas. But on Goo they just worked perfectly. The feminine curves were chastely hinted at. The clothes had that slightly worn look that told you that these were real clothes being worn by a real person, not props worn by a model. And Scully would be willing to bet her spare clip that the braid Goo had put her hair in was perfectly hanging from the hole in the back of her baseball cap. Not a hair would be out of place. Scully didn't know whether to shoot her hostess or kneel down and cry. Another noise reminded her that her partner was standing beside her. Her anger flared, she couldn't blame Goo for looking so leggy and perfect, while she looked short and 'cute'. She clipped Mulder in the shin with the side of her foot. "That's for staring," she told him under her breath. "I wasn't . . .", he started to say, But the look on the redhead's face told him to shut his yap. A brief sparkle caught Scully's eye and she looked back to her host. the forensic pathologist thought, The realization came to Scully where the sparkle had came from, Goo had a belly button ring. Goo felt a little self conscious. Both Scully and Mulder were looking at her and should could not figure out why, She wasn't wearing anything special. After she got to the bottom of the stairs, she gave herself a quick inventory. Everything seemed to be in place. Except that the tanktop had ridden up a bit and exposed her belly button. And the 18 caret loop in it. "Like it," she asked her guests. "I had my belly button pierced while I was still back at State. A youthful indiscretion." All three laughed as they turned and left for the field. Mulder had given Goo a profile of places that would be likely to have remains left by Anders. Small, unused homes, both with good access to roads, but far enough from them to allow privacy. And a well or tunnel that could be used to hide bodies. She had located 4 farmsteads that matched the profile easily. And today they would be visiting them. The first three met the profile exactly. But there were no bodies found. The worst thing the three houses had brought them was ruined clothing. The brambles and North Carolina clay had done their worst on the two Federal agents. Mulder had fallen in a puddle and ripped a foot long hole in his sweatpants. Scully had not fared any better. The button collar, Oxford cloth blouse still looked as school-girl neat as when she had put it on. Her fitted wool gaberdine slacks did not. The trail back to the well at the second house went by brambles. They did not draw blood, but the right leg of the trousers were shredded like cole slaw. And it did not help Scully's and Mulder's feelings when she called back at them to hurry up. They looked up at their hostess with death in their eyes. She still looked as neat as she had then they left the house. The crease on her clean jeans was still sharp, and the tank top and flannel shirt was still clean. The fourth house was different. The home was much like the other three that they had seen. Siding that had last been painted about V-J Day, a galvanised roof that had gone red with rust. Several outbuildings that just about fallen in. "This way," Goo called out, leading the FBI agents down the trail. "According to Mom and Dad's notes, this house had a rather large spring house down this trail." They got the first whiff of death then they first saw the spring house. It was the sickly sweet smell of corruption. A faint humming was an undercurrent of sound. A quick look at each other, and Mulder and Scully scouted on either side of the half buried building. Goo had to smile when she realized that it reminded her of when Angus and Kiss found a turtle in the yard and investigated it. No communication, just quick, efficient work. Goo held back the few minutes it took for them to check things out. When Mulder waved her forward, she was relieved. But It was relieve that was short lived. Mulder went down the short flight of steps and opened the door to the out building. As the door opened, the source of the hum was seen, thousands upon thousands of flies boiled out of the doorway. A few steps and the three heroes found their body. Or what was left of it. The flies had been industrious, laying their eggs in the dead flesh. What had been the mortal shell of a man, was now a mass of seething maggots. Goo took a tentative step towards the body and swallowed. Turning to the agents, "I think I need to check something on the Jeepster," she said, swallowing again. She didn't wait for acknowledgment when she quickly climbed out of the building. The sound of retching was heard within seconds. Scully and Mulder gave each other a quick look, seeing the dead is never easy, and this was a particularly messy one. Scully thought. "Mulder, why don't you radio this in," she said with a faint smile. Mulder smiled his thanks as he quickly exited the building. Scully half listened for Mulder's distress as she slipped on her latex gloves(Size Extra Small, Surgeon's Extra Thick). Hearing nothing, she knelt down. Scully thought to herself. The maggots and decay had ruined enough of the face to make identification hard, if not impossible. But ID's are typically heat sealed in plastic, and Anders left her victim's on them. A few minutes of poking and she had in hand a plastic wafer, with a faded thumbnail photograph of a smiling 40-something man. "Gary Fritz," she read under her breath. A name on the list, a name on a list she remembered as well as Mulder. A family could stop worrying and start grieving. Mulder walked up to the Jeepster. He hadn't lost his lunch, but it had been close. He understood Goo's stomach distress, he didn't quite understand how his partner could keep examining dead bodies, but then, she had mentioned that she did not understand his ability to get inside killer's heads. "How are you feeling, Goo," he gently asked the quiet blond sitting in the driver's seat. "I'm so sorry, Mulder," she said turning to the agent. "I didn't mean to act like a kid there and lose it, but it was just too much." "I've seen seasoned agents that have lost their lunch at less. Don't worry about it." Picking up the police band walkie-talkie, he radioed in the find. The dispatcher acknowledged and told the agent that the SBI would be requested to send out a crime scene team. "Hello," they heard Scully's dulcet tones coming from the trail. "You two okay?" "Yes," Mulder yelled back, as they saw the petite redhead walk up, small evidence bag in hand. "Gary Fritz," Scully said simply, handing the bag to her partner. "Federal employee out of Danville, Virginia. Works . . .worked for the EPA," Mulder finished, recalling the case from memory. "Now what," Scully asked. "I think you two need some new duds if we're going to keep doing this," Goo said, looking at the agent's ruined clothing. Mulder and Scully looked at each other and laughed. Scully's neat pressed blouse and trousers now bedraggled and torn. Mulder's sweats now caked with North Carolina clay. Scully looked at Goo and asked the question that had troubled her since the brambles, "Goo, how did you keep from ruining your clothes like Mulder and I?" Goo let out a alto laugh and smiled at the two agents. "Its simple, Dana. I know enough not to brush up against brambles. And I learned long ago not to step in wet clay. Now look at you. I'm not quite sure what to do with the two of you. Dana, we can hem your pants and make a cute pair of shorts. But, Mulder, I'm afraid that those sweats are going to be red the rest of your life." She sat there for a second looking at the agents, idly resting her chin in the palm of one hand. "Devil Dogs," she finally exclaimed. "Devil Dogs," Scully responded, the question in her voice. she asked herself. "Yes, Devil Dogs. Devil Dog Dungarees, to be exact. They are a North Carolina manufacturer of work clothing. They have several plants in Zebulon, as I remember. If we are going to be doing much tramping around in the woods, you two will need the appropriate clothing. And a pair of Devil Dogs and some boots will be just the ticket. And there is a store in town that will be open late." When they left DeeCee, Scully had not expected to have to go tramping around in the woods. It was winter so out came the wools and the sweaters. And in her closet, there were several pairs of blue jeans, dungarees if you please, ranging from a ratty pair she had bought while she was still in college, to a pair of Chanels, she had bought for a date. And a couple of pairs of hiking boots, just made for tramping around in the woods. A quick glance at Mulder for comment, and she nodded. They stopped by Goo's for a quick change of clothes (and a shower for Mulder) before heading downtown. The store was sort of a general store, with a little bit of everything for the grower or tourist. Scully came out looking like she was ready for the Appalachian Trail, silk tee tucked into belted Devil Dogs, a matching Devil Dog jacket, and a pair of leather hiking boots. Mulder was not quite so dapper, keeping the (clean) sweatshirt, but donning a pair of Devil Dogs to cover his legs. Supper was jointly agreed that the Chinese from "The 'New' Red Lantern" was just the ticket. They had just set down to hot tea and their menus when Goo spoke up, "Let me make a quick call to 'Heckle & Jeckle' to see if they might want some take out." The agents nodded their agreement. Both Mulder and Scully agreed that for state bureaucrats, they weren't bad to work with. Goo came back with a long face. "Gang, our 'Lords and Masters' have some plans for us," the blond told the agents after the waitress took their orders. Scully's raised eyebrow was the redhead's primary response. Mulder's boyish looks hardened with a certain wariness. "Heckle and Jeckle told me that the State's Attorney want to talk with use Friday, all day. Sorry." "Not a big deal, we'll take a early morning flight to Raleigh, then take a evening flight back," Scully said look from partner to Goo. Goo smiled one of those sad smiles you use with little kids that do not understand the world. "Scully, there are no local flights that fly into Raleigh." She sat back in her chair. "Actually, there are no local airports at all. And by the time you drive to the airport, you might as well, just have driven to Raleigh. You're in the boonies guys." The agents looked at each other for a second. "If we must, we'll drive. It isn't like we haven't driven in North Carolina before," Mulder finished. "OK," Goo replied with a smile. "What are you two doing Sunday?" Mulder laughed. "Nothing. We haven't been anywhere long enough to make any sort of plans for a couple of months now." "How about coming with me to Mass, brunch, and the Spring Social and Ball?" Scully looked to Mulder, Mulder looked to Scully. This was a more complex subject than the serial killers and alien blood suckers they normally handled. So he shrugged, she gave a quick, almost unnoticeable nod and consensus was reached. "Sounds good," Scully answered. "Is there anything we can do to help with any of this," the petite agent asked. Goo smiled her thanks, "Actually there is, Dana. Part of the 'Spring Social' is a baked goods raffle and I'm afraid that I don't bake that well." Mulder's snort of disagreement brought the maitre d' coming to the table. Mulder waved the man off. Goo flashed Mulder a quick smile of thanks and continued, "Not against people like Tammy and some of the other people of Aurora. But I do help out, manning one of the booths. Would you be willing to help out, I don't know which booth it will be this year, but it shouldn't be that taxing." "No problem, we'll be glad to help, won't we, Mulder," Scully answered. The last phrase said pointedly at her partner. "Yes, Scully, anything we can do, Goo. Anything at all." Mulder smiled. Section 10 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 10 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Thursday, 9 March From Smalltown, USA A series by Jerry Riggens Things have quieted down here in Smalltown, USA. Cindy Anders, the accused, has been arraigned on one count of first-degree murder. The arresting officers, FBI Special Agents Dana Scully and Fox Mulder, have started searching the countryside for additional evidence. And things have quieted down in town. My press colleagues have returned to their newsrooms and studios, taking their satellite dish equipped trucks and laptop computers with them. The warmth of spring continues to soak into the populace. The swings are back up in the playground. You can hear the joyous shouts while they play. People are taking down their storm windows and putting up screens. Shopkeepers are putting out bright tubs of flowers for all to enjoy. A church bazaar is planned for Sunday, the ladies of the town are raising money to buy land for a history museum. Booths are going up in the football field, ladies are holding hushed conversations as to what they will be entering in the baking contest. And Sunday evening. The One Hundred and Fiftieth Goff County Cotillion and Birthday Celebration is planned for that night. All of the senior girls from the high school are anchious awaiting their introduction to society. The dance will be held in the ballroom of one of the local Antebellum mansions. But have things really gone back to normal? There are now brown-uniformed State Police pulling guard duty at the normally empty jail. A FBI sedan is often seen in the parking lot of the local courthouse. I've seen the lock- smith's van parked in front of several people's homes this week. Like Pandora's box, once the box that holds urban fears within has been opened, the small town cannot really go back to it's norms of little fear and trust. And is there hope at the bottom of this box? Maybe. I've talked with Sheriff Steve Grimes and several of his deputies. These are men and women whose training matches that of any major metropolitan police force that I have had the pleasure to deal with. These people have a stake in the town that they were born and have grown up in. And these are people that are devoted to the protection of their town. These people, the Sheriff and Deputies of Goff County, are the hope of their small town, now that the Pandora's box of serial killers has has been opened. Our hats are off, and our thanks go to, these members of the small town police departments that stand there, a thin line between their fellow citizens and the criminals that now have moved in to prey on them. This is Jerry Riggins, signing off from another one of America's Smalltowns. Aurora, North Carolina. 12:20PM Thursday, 9 March U.S. Highway 321, North Carolina "Scully enjoys a Twinkie" ------- Mulder watched the world pass by in the perpetual twilight of Polaroid sunglasses. Gone was the bare branches that had greeted him and his partner when they had started on this quest. The world was now clothed in the green of new growth. It was a welcome change. The case was winding down too. They had caught the perp, and the two, maybe three left shouldn't be that much threat. He had been sleeping, The clicking of the turn signal caught Scully's attention. She closed her medical journal and tucked it between the front seats. A stop would be welcome, a chance to stretch. "Goo, gas stop," she called out to the blond in the back seat. Looking up from her copy of "Martha Stewart's Living" magazine, "Thanks, I could use a break." The lithesome counselor rolled her shoulders to loosen them. "I found some interesting desert recipes in this issue." Mulder pulled the Taurus off the highway and into a gas station. He looked over at his partner, a bit of amusement on his boyish face. Scully just shrugged, as if to tell him not to look to her for reason. Goo, seeing Mulder's face reflected in the rear view mirror continued, "I think of much of the stuff in 'Living' to be on par with 'Popular Science' or 'Popular Mechanics'. Projects with the feminine touch." She had a bit of a frown as she continued, "Haven't had that much time lately. Cannot keep up with them they way I used to. You know, between Mom and I we have almost the complete collection of the magazine and Stewart's books." Scully thought to herself. Seeing her partner head towards the store, she thought to give him a warning. "Mulder," he turned and looked at her for a second. "Remember, no sunflower seeds in the hull, get the hulled variety." Seeing the start of his protest, "I know they taste better when you hull them, but I don't want any more complaints from the Motor Pool about having to vacuum the carpet three to four times to get all the hulls out. They still remember the squawk from Newt Guinrich when sunflower hulls came out of the air conditioning ducts." "All right, all right," Goo heard Mulder say as he continued towards the store. Goo could only shake her head, She continued to shake her head as she followed Mulder into the confines of the store. A quick look at her watch reminded her that it was midday. She started to suggest a snack when she saw his hands full of munchies and fresh fruit. She headed for the rack and picked up a 'Moon Pie' and a RC cola. The shoppers found Scully sitting at a picnic table waiting for them. Her smile told Mulder that he had been right to pick up a couple of apples and a Twinkie for his partner. the DA thought to herself. Seeing Scully paying close attention to some butterflies flitting in the soft breeze, she decided to offer to the agents, a perhaps, more convenient situation. "Mulder," her voice low, "Would you and Scully like to share a bathroom?" She had not heard anything, but if these two were a couple, she would rather they be comfortable then sneaking around at night. The question seemed to take Mulder by surprise. His quick smile told Goo that he wasn't hurt by the offer. "Goo, thank you, but while Scully and I are the closest of friends, we are FBI agents and romance is the farthest thing from our minds. Anyway, we know each other too well." He stopped for a second, it almost looking like his ears perking up as he heard Scully take the cellophane off the snack cake. "She's bit off one end of the Twinkie", he paused for a second. "She's bit off the other," and pause, "now she's sucked out the filling. Scully?" The two conspirators looked over at the Titian haired agent. Her tongue was making quick cat-like licks cleaning her lips of creme filling. Her eyebrows raised. "Yes?" "Goo suggested that it might make things easier if we shared a bathroom, Scully." "No, oh no. Goo, I rather like things the way they are. Don't have to worry about He-Man here leaving the toilet seat up." Scully paused for a second. "You're not the first to think that Mulder and I might be having an affair. But, it is really the farthest thing from our minds. However fun and convenient it might be, sooner or latter things would go sour. And then there would be hell to pay." "Yea. Either we get mad with each other and then split up both our working partnership as well as our private lives, or. . . Skinner finds out and we are separated at the FBI and that might split us up personally too. Too much at risk." "And we couldn't live with each other if we wanted to. Mulder is not the neatest of persons all the time. I have seen his hotel rooms at check out look like somebody stired them with a spoon." Goo looked at the two partners. She couldn't help but think that maybe they were trying to build walls around their feelings. But, it was their business, not hers. Looking down and noticing that her Moon Pie and RC Cola was finished, "Shall we hit the road?" Section 11 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 11 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 5:12PM Friday, 10 March CharGrill Drive-In, Raleigh, North Carolina "Just a little bit of greasy meat" ------ "Mulder, look at those beef patties the man is cooking," Scully exclaimed to her partner, as she pointed out the flaming hamburgers on the grill. They were standing looking at the posted menu at 'CharGrill,' a place that Goo said that no trip to Raleigh would be complete without a visit. "What's the problem, Scully," Mulder replied. Goo thought to herself. She could feel herself salivating just thinking about eating one of them. "Mulder, there is so much grease in those things that they catch fire on the grill, doesn't that tell you something?" "Yes, good eating. Scully, I quietly ate what you ordered for me at lunch without any complaint." She looked at him, one of those looks that a mother gives her 5 year old that tells him that she knows that he is exaggerating the truth, just a little bit. "Ok, without much complaint. Not it is you turn to enjoy a bit of good food. And if you're worried about grease, they do have chicken sandwiches." Scully remembered lunch. At the State Attorney's suggestion they had visited 'The Irregardless Cafe.' Scully liked what she saw on the menu, mostly vegetarian with a few fish and chicken items. Everything nice and healthy. Mulder made the mistake of washing his hands when the waiter stopped by to take their order. She ordered a veggie burger in a pita for Mulder and the grilled fish with a glass of chardonnay for herself. She would not have said that Mulder was happy with the meal, but he was a good sport about it. And now, as they say, paybacks can be a bitch. "Ok, get me the GRILLED chicken sandwich and an unsweetened iced tea." "Ok. Any lettuce and tomato," he asked, filling in the ticket. "Yes. Goo, have you ordered", Scully asked, turning her head slightly. "Yes." "Lets sit down and let the gracious male wait for our food. Mulder watched his partner and Goo walk over and sit at the aluminum picnic table. He shrugged, he didn't care, why should he. The next time, Scully would wait for the food. Anyway, it gave him a chance to watch them grilling the food, one could even say, admiring the cooks at the grill. The ladies looked up as Mulder walked up with the food. Mulder looked at the rectangular hamburger buns with a bit of confusion. But one bite told him that he was in Buffet's 'Cheeseburger in Paradise' heaven. Nobody's food lasted that long. And soon enough, it was time to discuss the evening's entertainments. The three were supposed to join a couple of Goo's sorority sisters for drinks at a local country and western bar. But a last minute message at the hotel told Mulder to go to Chapel Hill and watch ACC championship basketball. "You are one lucky stiff," Goo told Mulder. "Uncle Freddy has been going to the ACC games ever since he graduated Law School back in the late '40's. He took me there one time while I was going to Chapel Hill. They have a nice box with a great view. Even have a waiter bringing them drinks and food. Nice going, Mulder." 10:13PM Friday, 10 March Dean Smith Dome, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill "Just reach out and touch someone" ------ The shrill ring of Mulder's cel phone got him dirty looks from the rest of the box. This was the second time that the cel phone had gone off and bothered everybody. And it was Scully again. "Hey, Mulder, Come on back to the . . . bar. Come out and play," he heard her voice, tinny from the tiny speaker in the phone. Mulder looked around. It was the beginning of the 4th quarter of the game, and Duke was ahead of Chapel Hill by 2 points. It had been a hotly contested game, one that everybody around him said would go down in the basketball annals. And the 'everybody' were a powerful group of people. One was the president of the biggest bank in North Carolina, another was a college president, and the third was Speaker of the NC General Assembly. Mulder thought. And they were a great bunch of men, no stuffed shirts, no 'I'm a big wig and you're a peon.' They had made him feel right at home. But the cel phone was distracting them from the game. And that was taboo. "I'm having fun and you're not here. All you do is work . . . work . . . work," continued the tinny voice. He looked around himself. he thought. "You need to get a life, Mulder" "I'm with 3 attractive girls here." The voice got quiet, as if Scully was trying to be devious and sly. And effect that was ruined by feminine laughter and a muffled Scully trying to get them to quite down. "And you can be halfway presentable when you try." He took the phone away from his ear and looked at it. Scully's generally frumpy suits made her claim to be of the clothing patrol rather nebulous. He considered just turning the damned thing off. It was the beginning of the 4th quarter and it promised to be just as exciting as the prior three. And the gentry mentioned going to 'The Mansion' for drinks after they stop by the locker room to talk to the coach. He almost turned the thing off, Scully was in no danger here. They weren't chasing anything that would go after them. They hadn't pissed off anybody in Washington for at least 2 months. It would be just so easy. "Ok, Scully, where are you," he asked into the phone. He would make his excuses, they knew that he was an FBI agent. He would be heading out to meet his partner. 11:21PM Friday, March 10 Ramada Inn, Apex, North Carolina "A Rodent and a Sick Scully" ------ They had been a great bunch of guys. Mulder had in his wallet, social cards with not only their direct office phone numbers as well as their home phone numbers. They had understood that he had to leave to met his partner. They understood that business must at times come before pleasure. . "The next time you're in Raleigh, give me a call, maybe we can get together for a pig-picking or something. And bring your partner, we would like to met her too," one of them had told him. The foyer of the Ramada was generic motel. Mulder pushed through the faux 'saloon' doors into the establishment. He had been in enough honky-tonks and roadhouses while on cases to know that this place was a poor copy. But the songs about a man's wife running off with his truck and dawg were played low and there weren't too many peanut shells on the floor. "Excuse me," Mulder asked the man behind the counter. Mulder didn't mind waiting the few seconds it took for the man to finish what he was doing. Watching him was poetry in motion. In one hand, he had a cocktail shaker, gently moving it, the other was pouring a glass of wine. The wine went on a server's tray, the strained contents of the shaker followed, a few seconds latter. The shaker was dismantled and rinsed, a clean rag came out of the man's back pocket and he gave the already gleaming mahogany a quick rub. "What can I get you," the man asked. He was a little shorter than Mulder, built like a weight lifter. Wide deep set eyes behind small wirerims, a smile below a thick, light brown moustache. Mulder instantly liked the man. "I am looking for join a group of three to four women. One of the ladies is a redhead with blue eyes, about 5 feet 4 inches. Another is blond, maybe five six or five eight, looks like a model." "Oh, you mean Goo. They're in the back," the man said, pointing to a booth at the back wall. "Yes, thank you." "Good. You must be Fox Mulder, G-Man then. I'm Sean Smith. Goo and Dana told me that you would be coming to pick them up. That partner of yours has one hell of an imagination. She had Goo, Rodent, and Pat in stitches with some of the weird tales she was telling them. Things like killer cockroaches, planetary alignments, and flukemen." The bartender sighed. "They were pretty well lit by that time." Mulder couldn't get over the odd nickname, "Rodent," he asked, eyebrows raised. "Yes, 'Rodent.' It's a sorority nickname. I met Goo while we were all students at Chapel Hill. Oh, did you see any part of the basketball game." "Yes, a bit." "Great game, went into over time. The fourth quarter was awesome. They are just now getting to the post-game show," Smith said, pointing to the television up in a corner. Mulder's eyes naturally looked up, and saw the party going on in the winning lockerroom. And a certain bank president, a known university president, and a North Carolina politician that Mulder had just met socially, were in the locker room. Without him. He sighed. "Nice to have met you, I'll be heading back." "Want anything. Mr Mulder." "Coffee, please. I'm the designated driver." As he poured the coffee, he waved away the money Mulder was pulling from his pocket, "Free Coffee or softdrinks for designated drivers. Cream or sugar? Enjoy." Handing Mulder the cup and saucer, nodded and returned to his cleaning. Mulder thought to himself. As he walked back he started to wonder how his partner was feeling. Soon he knew. "What do you do with a drunken Skinner, What do you do with a drunken Skinner, What do you do with a drunken Skinner early in the morning?" "Polish his head until it glistens, Polish his head until it glistens, Polish his head until it glistens early in the morning." "Hey! Yay! We're in the FBI," Hey! Yay! We're in the FBI' Hey! Yay! We're in the FBI early in the morning." Mulder remembered the basic song as one the cadets in the FBI Academy sang about their teachers. "Hey, Mulder. Glad you could make it," Scully slurred the words slightly. Mulder could tell that she had perhaps a bit too much to drink. Not falling down yet, but glad that he had her gun, not her. A bit of fire glistened on her nose. "Scully, what is . . .," he said as his partner turned around. And the light hit the diamond stud that had started the evening as an ornament in her right earlobe, and now graced her right nostril. "Scully, where did you go and get your nose pierced?" "Jack's," was her reply, her body slowing moving to music only she heard. "Jack's," he made the response into a question. "Yes, Jack's. You know Goo," turning to the blond, "Men can so dense." Turning back to her partner. "Jack's. He is a piercer and tattooer in Roser Park Mews. In London." "Dad was military attache to the US embassy in London one year. I was into punk. I visited Jack's." Her crealian eyes tried to focus on the stud. "Hey Mulder, you have a pierced ear. Say, lets go into the office with jewelry." He had it done back when he was at Oxford. "No, Scully, I think we should skip the jewelry. And, since you brought it up, how did you know that I have a pierced ear?" The petite agent took a look at her partner, "Mulder, I've taken care of you enough times to know every inch of your epi. . . epidermis. Turning back to Goo and her friends. "Do you know that Mulder has the cutest . . ." Sitting down, he stopped her. "Ok, Scully, I think that its time to go home. You've had enough to drink." Goo was a little more able to make the introductions. Sitting with them was "Rodent", and Pat, both sorority sisters of Goo. Conversation had gotten around to the point of discussion the differences in living in Washington, Raleigh, and Aurora, when the bartender joined the party. "Hey, Monkeyboy, how about an other round," Goo asked. Seeing Mulder's confusion over the nickname, Sean's shrug telling him, "Me too". "Now, ladies, I think that it is time to head for home. Mulder, here is Dana's tab, you might want to hold on to it for her. You might want to remind her of her evening out." Mulder looked at the tab and let out a whistle before folding it and slipping it into his wallet. Scully would have one hell of a hangover. "Mulder, you are driving Goo and Dana back to their motel rooms." At Mulder's nod, he continued, "Good, I'll take Rodent and Pat back to their apartments." Everybody made their, and for the women, intoxingly tearful, goodbyes and headed off in their cars. Mulder had gotten to US 1 when he heard a pitiful plea, "Mulder, please stop." He turned and saw a very pale Scully. And against her auburn hair and green blouse, it was a horrible sight. The second the car pulled to a stop the door was open and Dana Katherine Scully, MD, FBI Special Agent, was being noisily sick. He quickly turned on the emergency blinkers and got out of the car. He had grounds to be angry with his partner, pulling him away from the game the way she did. And getting drunk and sick just made it worse. But she was his partner, and partners took care of each other. He held her head as the remains of her supper and way too many drinks came up. She smiled her thanks when he helped her sit up in the car seat again. Mulder did a quick check in the back seat where Goo was sitting. She deathly white but was otherwise was OK. The remainder of the drive back to the motel was uneventful. The stay in the room wasn't. "Mulder, let's sing," both Goo and Scully told the agent. "What did you have to drink, you too?" Goo and Scully looked at each other, and started to go through their drinking binge. They had started with dark beer, switched to New York State champaign. They ended up with Irish Mist. Mulder thought. And he was right. Section 12 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 12 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 9:02AM Saturday, 11 March Capital Holiday Inn, Raleigh, North Carolina "Good Morning Merry Sunshine" ------ Goo hurt. Goo hurt all over. Goo's toe nails hurt. As the blond slowly woke up, she did not remember ever hurting so much. Every part of her trim 5 foot 8 inch frame was in pain. She might not be totally sure where her pancreas was, but she was certain it hurt too. And the nausea. There was the faint smell of food in the air and her stomach started to do flipflops against her backbone. Her eyes opened. "Good Morning Goo." A cheerful, quiet male voice intruded into her pain. She looked down at the source of the voice. It was Mulder, a shaved, showered, and impeccably dressed Mulder. It was disgusting. "Must you be so cheerful this morning, Mulder," she replied. "There are reasons why they call it being polluted. I'll go wake up Scully." She heard the connecting door open and close. The redhead hurt. But unlike Goo, she knew the names of each of her bodyparts. She could place a name for each and every ache and pain. "Scully, it's time to get up, Scully. I even brought you breakfast." The low male voice intruded into her pain. "Go away," the faint words were heard. "Can't you breathe any quieter," she croaked. "Come on Scully, you've been hurt worse. Anyways. I ordered breakfast. We have pancakes, poached eggs, grits, and lots of orange juice. Time to rise and shine, Merry Sunshine," her partner ordered. The faint smell of what Mulder had ordered for himself intruded. Scully normally had no problems with bacon as a breakfast food. She would occasionally swipe one of Mulder's bacon strips during breakfast. But the smell of maple cured, fried bacon was just too much this morning. She ran for the bathroom. Her stomach had settled down when she heard a knock on the bathroom door. "Go away," she ordered. "No, Scully," came the muffled reply. "I'll shoot." "I've got your gun. So unless you've got your 'Agent 99' pumps in there with you, you will have to come out." Scully opened the door. She knew that she did not look her best in the morning, but this was ten times worse. "Here, drink this," Mulder told her, dropping a couple of tablets into a glass of water. "I'll go get up Goo." He left. When Scully came out of the bathroom, it was after the Alka- Seltzer and washing her face. The smell of the food was still a pain, but she could take it. "Here, sit down," Mulder said while pushing her into a seat. A glass of orange juice, a mug of hot coffee from a carafe, and a plate of toast was placed in front of her. She pushed the toast away. "You need something down there. It's dry toast, so it will be gentle on your stomach. Now eat. She looked over at Goo and her partner. Goo looked about as bad as Scully felt. Mulder looked disgustingly in good shape. She nibbled on the toast. By the ten o'clock check out, everybody was feeling better, and the Taurus was on the road. Goo was in the back, Leaning back against the seat, Ray-Bans over her eyes, and a loose hat low on her forehead. And asleep, dead to the world. Scully was not quite that lucky. She knew what she had done. Mulder was at a major basketball game, and shortly before the end of the game, she called him and pulled him out of the game. And for no good reason. She had hurt her partner unnecessarily. She looked over at him, He looked back, gave her a half smile and reached for the radio. She cringed inside. Often the radio was a source of good-natured arguing while they drove from one crime scene to another. The quiet sounds of classical music filled the sedan's cabin. Scully was surprised, Mulder generally chose hard, sometimes acid rock for driving music. Scully was the one that liked the classical stuff. "No problem, Scully, no problem," she heard him whisper. At that, she relaxed and closed her eyes against the sun. Mulder looked over at his partner. He knew how to drive not to wake her up. And he drove that way, all the way back to Aurora. 4:55PM Saturday, 11 March Our Lady of the Celestial Lights RC Church Aurora, North Carolina "Confession is good for the soul" ------- "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." Scully heard the grilled window slide open. She hated this. Christmas Mass was the last time she had gone into a church, and she had a lot to confess. "Tell me your sins," a dry bass responded. "God has the mercy to forgive all." "I have not attended Mass since Christmas," was the first confession. The list continued, missing Holy Days of Obligation, cursing, having unclean thoughts. She worked her way chronologically to that prior evening. she thought. "I was drunk last night, Father." "The sin of gluttony. Pray to Saint Augustine to give you guidance not to drink to excess. You did not drive after your drinking did you," the Priest asked. "No, Father. I called a friend who was not drinking to come and drive me and a companion back to our hotel rooms." "Hmmm." Scully almost grinned thinking what the Priest would be thinking. "Father, the three of us had gone to Raleigh to discuss a case with some state officials. The companion is a local that needed to be there with us. The friend is my police partner that left a basketball game to come pick us up. We all have separate hotel rooms." There was a momentary silence from the other part of the confessional. Perhaps a silence that lasted for much more than a moment or two. "This would not be the ACC Semifinals that were being played last night," was a quiet question. "Yes, Father. My partner was given a ticket to a box seat for last night's game. He came and picked us up when I called him on his cel-phone." "You pulled your friend away from a major event like that," she heard his voice rise, word by word. "You should be on you knees praying to God that your friend forgives you. Pulling him away from an event like that is a grievous thing, my child. Just grievous." "Father, . . .," she started to no avail. "To atone for what you have done, pray the Rosary. That should be a fitting penance. Now let's pray the 'Our Father' together before you go." "Our father who are in heaven . . " the duet of old priest and young woman finished the ancient prayer. "Now, once you have finished you penance, you will be reconciled with God and your sins will be forgiven. Now go with God and sin no more." "Thank you, Father," the words came automatically was Scully rose from the kneeler. she thought opening the door to the confessional, Mulder saw his friend and partner leave the small mahogany booth. The look she gave him should have made him melt into the marble floor of the church. Instead, she brushed past him and walked up to the front of the church. A cough interrupted this thought. "Attending Mass tomorrow," the gentle older man asked. "Yes, Father," he answered. "Have need of the confessional?" Mulder gave a quiet chuckle. "No. I'm not Catholic. I'll be coming with a couple of people that are." Noting which 'couple of people' the young man was looking at, the priest did not have to make a leap of faith to determine just who was the basketball fans. "Catch the ACC game yestereve," he asked. Slightly taken aback about discussing basketball in a church, Mulder remembered people telling him that the state virtually shutdown during ACC basketball week. So it probably was not far out of line. "Most of it," he admitted. "We have it on video tape. Come by some evening after Vespers, and we'll see about finishing the game." The quick ring of the church bell interrupted the conversation. "End of the time for hearing confessions. Must be off. God be with you." Scully brushed back her hair as she knelt at the front of the church. 'What did you get," a faint whisper intruded from her left. "'Pray the Rosary,'" Scully whispered back. "Same here." Goo admitted. "Did you bring one?" "Yes." "See you in an hour," Goo responded. The two woman's voices rose in prayer as Mulder quietly waited. 7:15PM Saturday, 11 March Scully's Bedroom, Brick House "How something so ugly can be missed" ------- "Hold still for another moment," Goo asked the blue eyed agent. A quick knot on a piece of buttonhole silk, and she was done. "OK, I've finished hemming the skirt. Why don't you look in the mirror?" Scully nodded to the blond and walked over to the mirror. She had been shocked to find out that the gown she was wearing had first been worn in the cotillion of 1859, but assured by the lady at the historical society that occasional wearing actually helped air out the gowns. She liked what she saw in the mirror. The gown, was a confection in white moire silk. The full skirt had flowers in raised terry velvet. The bodice was pointed front and back with short puffed off the shoulder sleeves. she thought to herself. Goo smiled watching the copper haired agent turn in front of the mirror. she mused. "Comfortable," she asked. Scully flashed her a quick smile. "Yes, quite. It feels almost like it something made to be danced and partied in." "Good." thought the petite agent. The gown, made a century before she was born, fit exquisitely. The crinoline that held the full skirt out was not heavy. The bodice was more comfortable that many of her modern suitcoats. Seeing the silver butt of her gun told her what was the matter. she thought. A gun had been a part of her ever since the first one had been issued to her at Quanticao. It had been either at her waist or in her purse, even being with her when she went to confession earlier that day. She knew she would feel uncomfortable without it tomorrow night. Her FBI ID and a few bills she could tuck somewhere, but her Smith and Wesson was just too big. She had an idea. "Mulder," she called out going to the bedroom door, "Bring your ankle gun and that knee support you use." A quick smile to Goo quieted her questions. He arrived in a moment. "Here they are. They don't quite go with the outfit, do they", he asked, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "Simple," she told her partner. She started to pull up the skirt. "I'm shocked. Showing us your legs, you wanton hussy," Mulder said, the teasing tone of his voice taking the fire from the words. His eyes swept the room, a mirror image of his own. And different in other ways. His room had been Goo's older brother's. And it still had the empty feeling of an once occupied room has. Not that it was empty, there was a comfortable bed, nice chest of drawers, even an overstuffed chair with a lamp for reading. And the papered walls were not bare, the brother's high school diploma, now framed, shared space with old ancestors, several of which ended their days in places like Bull Run and Gettysburg. But this room looked lived in, alive. The bed, now slightly rumpled from being sat upon, had an impossibly pink stuffed bear guarding it from atop one of the pillows. The pictures of dead ancestors were joined by ones of Goo and her, Mulder assumed, parents, Goo and friends in Girl Scouts at Natural Bridge. There was music playing, Goo was kneeling in front of her own Carolina Blue gown, checking on a century old piece of lace. There was life here. More life than there was in his own spartan bachelor pad or Scully's IKEA apartment. "You've seen more than this at the FBI pool," Scully's alto brought him out of his daydream. "And Goo, ask him sometimes about a pair of red Speedos getting banned at the pool after the riot." Mulder half choked trying not to laugh. Scully continued, "I need to have a gun with me tomorrow at the dance. And this one is nice and small." She removed the strap that generally held the gun to Mulder's ankle, substituting the longer strap. "And your knee support should be just the thing to hold it up," she told him pulling up the side of the skirt. A quick motion and the gun and holster was secured just above her shapely knee. She admired her ingenuity for a second, dropped the skirt, and walked across the room. "That will work," she said, satisfied with the feel Leaning back against the door jamb, Mulder watched his partner work. "Ever consider the trick they show on 'Silk Stockings'," he asked. "Yes. But the elastic at the top of the hose isn't strong enough to hold a pistol any length of time," she answered. Seeing her partner's raised eyebrows, she continued. "Right after I was issued my first gun, a couple of the female students at Quantico tried it. Didn't work worth a damn. Anyways, I'll be wearing knee-highs tomorrow, the gun would be too low." "We could test it further," Mulder jokingly suggested. Scully gave him a quick grin, "In your dreams, partner, in your dreams." Section 13 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 13 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 08:15AM Sunday, 12 March 'Brick House' kitchen. "Not yet time for breakfast" ------- Mulder was confused. The kitchen was cold and empty. He remembered that they were going to go out for brunch after 9 o'clock Mass, but expected that Goo would have at least have had a pot of coffee going. After the morning run and shower, even a bowl of grits would have been welcome. "Morning, Mulder," Goo's happy voice intruded into his thought. "Good morning, Goo." Mulder was torn. He would like something to eat. But Goo was their hostess, not a restaurant manager. He felt odd bringing up the subject. "Good Morning, Goo, Mulder," Scully's dulcet tones joined the conversation. Noticing Mulder's unease, Goo decided to walk right into it, "Something wrong, Mulder. You are looking a little out of it." He sighed. "Breakfast," he asked, the puppydog look on his face. Goo was confused. "Oh. Yea," Scully's eyes opened a bit. "That's right, you're not Catholic, are you Mulder," Scully asked. "No. Raised Methodist." "That explains it," Goo said to Mulder. "You're not used to the idea of fasting before Mass. Would you like me to make you something quick?" Scully's mouth opened in a big grin, "No, Goo. A short fast will do him some good. Maybe even clear out some of that cholesterol. Sorry partner, no food for you until brunch." Grabbing her coat, "Shall we leave then?" 11:15AM Sunday, 12 March The Aberdeen Dining Room. "Now it is time for breakfast" ------- Mulder followed the ladies through the doors into the dining room. The sight of the thirty foot food line brought a slightly irreverent comment from the seasoned agent, "Oh, My God." Goo looked from Dana to her partner. Dana's eyes were open wide at the food displayed in front of them. Mulder slowly shook his head looking at the table in front of them. she mused. Scully was uncertain where to start. Her medical training told her that a breakfast of fresh fruit and juice would be a good start to the day, the Epicurean side told her that the fruit and juice would be a good place to start. When she sat down at the table, she realized that before her was not the luncheon plate found at most brunches, but a full sized dinner plate. she thought smiling. Mulder's thought of which of the two plates to start with was interrupted by a waiter leaving three filled champagne flutes on the table. "Champagne for breakfast," he asked not totally expecting an answer. "'Fraid not, Mulder, county's dry until 1 o'clock. Sparkling apple cider," answered Goo taking a sip from her glass. Scully watched the people around them enjoy their meal. In one corner was the priest sitting and talking with several of his parishioners, in another, a table was filled with older ladies she recognized as having been at Mass. Before she noticed, 3 empty plates were sitting in front of her. "Enjoy your meal," her partner smirked. "Better than your cooking, Mulder," she said dryly. Goo smiled enjoying the byplay between the two FBI agents, but a quick glance at her wristwatch told her it was time to go. "Shall we leave for the bazaar," she asked. 1:00PM 12 March Our Lady of the Celestial Light's HS Football Field "A New Life Experience" ------- Scully looked over the football field with a bit of excitement. The field was filled with colorful booths and people visiting them. She could smell the elephant ears and cotton candy. She liked 'homey' things like church bazaars. And this was looking like it was going to be a doozie. "Hello, Tammy," she called out to the Brooklyn transplant as she walked past them. Feeling Mulder's eyes on her, she turned and shrugged her shoulders, as if it say, "Hey, everybody else is doing it." And everybody was. The entire town had turned out for the church bazaar, and everybody was happily greeting each other. "Hello yourself, Dana. Good Morning, Goo, Mulder," the brunette baker greeted each of them. She turned to her lawyer friend, "Goo, Billy Bob just dropped out of judging the desserts. Got any last minute suggestions?" A quick smile alerted the world the Dana Scully had an idea on whom could help out. And a quick jab in Mulder's ribs told the world her idea. "Hey," Mulder cried out, "What the . . .." "Well, thank you Mulder. Tammy, I'm certain that Mulder will be more than happy to help out judging the deserts," Scully said, speaking up for her partner. Mulder turned and glared at his partner. the gaze communicated on their private wavelength. A Bronx cheer on the same wavelength was her replay. He turned to the brunette baker and said, "I will be glad to help out with the judging. When does it start?" "Right away if you're able," Tammy replied. Everybody followed her to the competition area and looked over the competitors. It was a wide variety that greeted them. Mulder looked over a lemon meringue pie shaped like the state of North Carolina, a gingerbread house made to look like the Governor's mansion, a pig made of salmon pink cottage cheese. Even a model of the State Capitol made of sugar cubes. "I don't know if I would want to taste test many of these," Scully commented, looking at the cottage cheese pig. "You don't. These are subtilties," Tammy remarked, halfway down the row. At everyone's questioning look, she continued. "A subtilty was an item presented with great fanfare at a medieval feast. It looked grand and glorious and was carried around so everybody could see it and then presented before the guest of honor. The old nursery rhyme of 'Four and Twenty Blackbirds,' was about such a item. But they were never eaten." Then came the grandest and the most glorious of all that they had seen. "Thanks for coming by," a little gray haired lady, told the two agents. She was standing in front of a dining room sized table, something about a yard across propped up at a shallow angle on it. As they got up to it, they could tell what it was. "Oh, My God, Scully, do you believe it," Mulder whispered quietly, "It's perfect." Scully could but nod her agreement to her partner. Turning to the lady, she found a few words, "Ma'am, I walk past and over that thing several times a day, and I have never seen it in this way before." Against a board covered in tinfoil, was a rendition of the FBI seal as a three foot Jello mold. The blue of the background was done in blueberry Jello, the gold in lemon. Surrounding it was the words "Welcome Agents Scully and Mulder," in red and green 'Jello Jigglers' letters. The lady had copied the design set in the floor of the Hoover Building perfectly. Scully thought. "I will never be able to think of the FBI Seal in the same way again," Mulder told the woman straight faced. She beamed. A brief, "Look this way please," and the newspaper photographer recorded the Kodak Moment. Mulder stayed to finish the judging before heading for an awaiting basketball game, while Scully and Goo walked over towards the registration table. "I don't know what we've volunteered for," Goo said. Scully raised an eyebrow at the "we've volunteered for" comment. In reality, Goo had done the volunteering, but Scully didn't mind helping out. Goo had been the gracious hostess, so some reciprocity was in order. Scully's thoughts came to the present when she noticed Goo staring at the two 'Chap-sticks' on the table. "Robin, tell me you're kidding," she asked the older lady behind the table. "No, Goo. You know that the High School cheerleaders normally handle the kissing booth, but when Betsy and Ashley came down with mono last night, we were stuck. Then your Uncle Freddy remembered that you had volunteered to help out, he said you wouldn't mind." the agent thought. She looked to Goo to see how to respond. "Dana, I'm sorry. I thought we might be helping at a food booth, or something like that, I didn't imagine that we would be stuck with this," the blond told her. Scully thought for a moment. She felt a little old to be manning a kissing booth. But as long as it didn't get back to DeeCee or Frohike. "I don't have a big problem with this, Goo. Let's just do it." Goo was relieved to see Scully being such a good sport. "Robin, I'll take this up with Freddy later. Well. Scully, do you prefer Mint or Cherry," Goo said offering Scully her choice of Chap- sticks. As Goo led Scully up to the booths, she outlined the rules. "First, the guy can't lean over too far. He cannot reach into the booth. The farthest he can reach is a line in the middle of the counter of the booth. Likewise, you have to keep your hands on your side of the line too. No open-mouthed kissing. No leaning." As Goo ran down, "Sounds like you've done this thing before," Scully asked dryly. "Hasn't everybody," came the immediate reply. "Here we are, our offices for the next couple of hours." As Scully looked for a place to put her purse, she looked the place over. Her's was next to Goo's. It had a stool, a small shelf under the counter, and enough of a roof that the occupant would not roast in the Southern summer sun. Not that Scully had much time to admire her 'office.' The next quarter hour was filled with customer after customer laying their money down. During a break, she looked over at her compatriot, "How's business?" "Very little," Goo responded, a smile on her face. "Must be the new girl on the block." Scully's eyebrows went up, and then went down as a Goo continued. "You're attractive, cute, and new to everybody." "No wonder the 'young men,' want to visit," Scully finished. She had noticed a large wooden barrel on the side away from Goo. "What's that," she asked pointing out the barrel with her thumb. "Dunking booth. Normally the jock boyfriends of the cheerleaders manning the kissing booths would be over there. But with their girlfriends coming down with mono, . . . ." "They don't want to take the chance," the redhead agent finished. The cogs were moving in the agent's head. She trusted her partner with her life, her honor, and her virtue. But she knew that if he got the chance to rag her about the kissing booth, he would. she mused. "Goo, it's too bad the nice ladies of the 'Altar and Rosary Society' won't have the income from that booth. I'll get Mulder to come out and man the booth. He'll be happy to join in." Goo looked over at the petite agent. "We can ask, but I don't know if he'll fall for it," Goo responded. "Oh, I think so. I think so." Calling out to one of the young men that had been at brunch, Scully asked him to go to the church's rec room and bring back Mulder. Her pleasure at his helpfulness turned to disappointment as he came back alone. "I didn't see him in the rec room. I'm sorry, Miz Scully," he said. And then claimed a kiss with a fresh new dollar bill. "Let me get somebody," Goo offered. A second young man was sent off on a quest. One that he sadly failed at, returning without the FBI agent. And again, Scully's favors were bought with a bill. the agent thought. Calling over another young man. "Johnny," remembering his name, "Please go over to the church rec room and tell Fox Mulder, my partner, that I need to see him. Please be sure to check the kitchen, the restrooms, and anywhere else he may have gone to there." Feeling that her instructions were clear enough, she sent him on his way. But he, like the others, came back alone, he couldn't find him. And put down a five dollar bill. And didn't want change. As Johnny turned to leave, a smile on his face, Scully asked a final question, "Is the basketball game still on?" The young man stopped for a second, "Yes, ma'am. When I was over there, it's was still in the second quarter, and Duke was leading by 20 points." She waved him off and sat down on the stool to think. Absently moistening her lips with the Chap-Stick, she thought for a moment. As the sharp mind of the agent responded to the challenge put before her, she soon came to a conclusion. "That son-of-a-bitch. That lousy, rotten, son-of-a-bitch." Noticing Goo's less than approving look at the language, she continued, "He's still there, he's paying them off." At Goo's raised eyebrows, she sat back on her stool in disgust. 2:45PM 12 March Our Lady of the Celestial Light's 'Rec Room' "Decisions, Decisions." ------- Mulder was torn. The third young man with a 'Get your ass running,' message was walking back to the kissing booth, clutching one of Mulder's five dollar bills in his hand. Mulder thought, hoping the kid would get the pleasure he was hoping for. 3:00PM 12 March Our Lady of the Celestial Light's Kissing Booths "A plan is born" ------- Scully was in a funk. She was stuck here in this stupid kissing booth, and her partner wasn't being stuck in turn. A friendly voice ended her reverie. "You ladies have been doing well." Scully looked up at the voice and smiled at the speaker. It was Ra from the herb shop. "What brings you to our humble place," she asked. "Well. According to the organizers, you have been bringing in the most money of any of the booths. You should be proud of yourselves," Ra said. Scully and Goo mumbled their thanks for the message. "Its too bad that we haven't been able to get the men to help out as much as you have." Scully's mind started working. "But we can't get him up here," she remarked. "If Mohammed won't come to the mountain, the mountain must go to Mohammed," Goo interjected smiling. Scully's mind grabbed at the idea. "So the ladies would have to go and find him. Hmm. Sounds like a plan for me. We would have to give the girls some sort of token or ticket as proof." Scully leaned back against the side of the booth for a moment thinking. "Anybody have an idea for a name." she asked. "Fox Hunt," a cultured male voice suggested. Everybody twisted to see who the person offering the suggestion was. And it was Jer Riggs, standing dapper in a charcoal gray suit, ready for spring with a rose in his lapel, and a straw boater on his head. Nodding her agreement, Scully made the introductions. "'Fox Hunt' sounds good. The use of his first name will vex him," Scully said, thinking all the while that this would be great blackmail to hold over her partner. Ra ran off to the organizer's table to get some tickets for the Hunt. Jer asked the question, "How will Mulder take to discovering he's the hunted fox?" Goo and Scully looked at each other, their visages telling the roving reporter that they had not considered that. "Oh shit," was Scully's only reply. She knew, best of all there in Goff County, how private a man, Fox Mulder was. She knew that the man really did not have any friends other than herself and "The Lone Gunmen." He was not a social butterfly, maybe, just maybe a social pupa. He would probably go along with the joke, but it would not be a good idea for some innocent girl, only wanting a moment's affection from an older man, to surprise him. "Let me write a quick note." Scully pulled a page from her field notebook and quickly wrote a note: Mulder 12 Mar Since you will not come to the mountain, the mountain will come to you. There has been declared a 'Fox Hunt'. Clever, heh! Knew you would like it. You have been selected to be the subject of many young ladies' attention. They will be coming to you with a ticket good for one kiss. Please fulfill their wish. See you after the bazaar ends. DKS she thought. Handing the note to Goo, she awaited her approval. Once Goo nodded her agreement, Scully looked for somebody to run the message to Mulder. Calling over at one of the young men of the parish, she gave him the note and the Chap-Stick to deliver. As he ran off, she noted Goo's look. "He may need it," was the redhead's reply, "And anyway, I did bring some lipgloss." When Ra brought back the tickets, they sold quite well. Even Jer bought 20 of them. Scully looked at him with a question on her face. "Just helping out a good cause," Jer replied. Scully noticed with approval Jer handing out the tickets to the girls around him. He kept one for himself. "Do you think that Mulder would honor this ticket if I presented it to him, Agent Scully?" "I think that he might shoot you," Scully replied dryly. Jer shrugged his shoulders and gave the ticket to one of the awaiting girls. Pulling a dollar bill out of his wallet, he went to Goo and bought a kiss. With a brief salute and a smile, he left. 3:15PM 12 March Our Lady of the Celestial Light's 'Rec Room' "Studmuffin Mulder." ------- Mulder looked up when somebody tapped him on the shoulder and guided his gaze to a brown haired young lady standing in the doorway of the rec room. He was aware of the dirty looks he got as he passed in front of several enrapt fans. When the first girl had shown up, they smiled at the antics, but now, even the priest gave him a dirty look. He looked up at the screen, Duke was doing well, about 12 points ahead. he thought. He got up to the young lady. He gestured for her to lead him out into the hallway, enough privacy for a kiss, but close enough for others to protect against morality charges. "Hello, Agent Mulder, I'm Kylie Loxton," she said presenting Mulder with the chit. A quick glance assured him that it was an original, he looked at her. was his first thought noticing her metre and a half height. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Thank you, Agent Mulder," she said afterwards, her blue eyes bright with excitement, suppressing a giggle. "You are welcome, Miss Loxton," he answered. "Shall we go," he suggested, leading her out of the building. "Are you going to be at the cotillion tonight," he asked, making conversation. "Of course, Agent Mulder," she said coquettishly. She spun on one heel, letting the full skirt spread. "I'm wearing the same white dress my greatgrandmother wore when she was a debutante in nineteen hundred and eight." "White dress," Mulder mumbled, thinking of Scully and Goo the night before. Seeing the young woman's eyes on him, he spoke up. "Do all of the girls wear a white dress, Miss Loxton?" Her look of exasperation, an exaggerated sigh, told the seasoned agent that he had analysed the situation correctly. "Of course, Agent Mulder. All of us wear white when we're presented. We're the only ones that do. Are you going to be there?" He smiled as he nodded. "Will you save a dance for me," she asked hopefully. "It will be my pleasure," he replied, giving her a half bow. He had to smile as she ran back towards the football field and the bazaar. he chanted to himself. He chuckled quietly. His good humor did not last long. The next hour was a game of hide-and-seek. He liked women, even didn't mind when they chased him, but being the target for osculatory assault by girls in their teens was not his idea of fun. But, as he reflected hiding behind a hedge, he got to know several blocks of residential Aurora quite well. "Mulder, how are you doing," was a scary question he heard from the other side of the concealing hedge. "I can assure you that you are for the moment safe from the huntresses." Mulder chanced poking his head up. He had collected a dozen of the 'Fox Hunt' tickets, and was trying to make sure that it wasn't thirteen. He sighted Jer Riggs standing there. the agent fumed, noting the newsman's unwrinkled shirt and still fresh flower in his lapel. "Hello, Riggs." "And hello to my favorite FBI agent," Riggs said, half chuckling. "Enjoying the hunt?" "Loads," Mulder said, looking around for girls waving tickets in their hands. "How did you find me?" Mulder had been pretty good about not getting caught, and wondered how did Riggs get him. "Just waited until you walked by, old chap. But, I am afraid that I must be going," he said as the church bells started pealing 5 o'clock. Mulder walked back with Riggs, the 'Fox Hunt' ending with the ending of the church bazaar. Or so he thought. As he was walking up to the kissing booths, he felt a tap on the shoulder. "Mr. Mulder," a young woman asked. He looked down into a round face graced with brown hair and eyes, and got a gut feeling that he knew what was up. He nodded. And was presented with a 'Fox Hunt' chit. "I am Char Hall. I know that the hunt ended when the bazaar, but I couldn't find you earlier." he thought. Seeing his partner out of a corner of his eye, he took the young lady into his arms and kissed her, adding a little enthusiasm for his partner. "Thank you, Mr Mulder," she said afterwards, a little dazed. "No, thank you, Miss Hall," he responded, turning on the charm. She left, Mulder watching her leave. Scully walked up and stood beside him, the two watching the emptying bazaar. "Have a pleasant afternoon," he asked. "Not all that bad," she responded. Section 14 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 14 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 6:00PM, 12 March Ballroom, Seven Gables Plantation An Exciting Evening ------- The sounds and sights of the ballroom gave Scully the first hint of what was in store for the evening. It was an hour before the cotillion was due to start and people were already congregating in the ballroom. The vast room had been decorated with bunting and colorful garlands of flowers, with the three great chandeliers casting their light throughout the room. In one corner, a chamber ensemble were warming up. Along the back wall, a buffet was being set out. The people were as colorful and exciting as the room. Many of the women had dressed to match the theme of an antebellum cotillion, their gowns bright spots of color. Many of the men had also dressed to the theme. She spotted Sheriff Grimes talking with a blond she didn't recognize. Grimes was dressed in the gray of a Confederate Calvary officer. Her FBI trained eye caught the subtle slope of his polished belt, and the weight in the holster attached to the belt. Many men had also dressed in the gray of the Confederate Army, while others had adopted the white uniform of Southern Planter made famous by KFC. She took a second thinking how Mulder would look dressed like Rhett Butler. Then with a half smile she shook her head. It was nice that they had been invited here tonight, and Goo was great finding her a period dress to wear that night. But they didn't live here, they were but visitors. They had been reminded of this by the E-mail waiting for them at Brick House after brunch. Skinner was ordering them back to DeeCee. They would be leaving Tuesday morning. She hurried on to the dressing room. It was pandemonium in the ladies' dressing room. In one corner, a local beautician was curling hair. A big department store in Boone had sent over somebody to do makeovers. An untouched buffet of finger sandwiches and other non-messy items had been provided by the hotel. Even Scully caught the excitement, rushing around helping everybody until Goo, Tammy, and Ra sat her down and let the woman from Princess Machiavelli weave her spell with powders and paint. Finally standing in front of a mirror, Scully did not recognize herself. Her hair was swept back, the copper tresses covered with a band of white lace and silk flowers. The gown virtually shown in the bright light of the room. And the makeup made her look the young girl before she joined the FBI. An unladylike exclamation caught her ear and brought her back to earth. She turned to watch one of the debs walk up, crying. "Miss Scully, I need some help. My dress ripped and I didn't bring any thread, and I . . . I . . ." Scully could see the state the girl is in. She could empathize with her, remembering how tense she had been at her senior prom. she thought looking at it. It was ripped only an inch or so, but if it wasn't sewn up, it would rip further as the evening progressed. Looking up, she spotted Goo. "Yo, Goo. Please bring over the sewing kit," she called out. Goo was over in a minute and watched with fascination, Scully sew up the seam with the dress still on the girl. Scully made little neat stitches, not noticeable if you were not looking for them. And was soon done. "There. It's back together," Scully told the deb, a hand on her shoulder. "Oh thankyouthankyouthankyou, Thank You," the girl exclaimed, before scurrying back over to her friends. "That was impressive work, Dana. Quick, precise, and you didn't even take off your gloves," Goo complemented. Scully looked down to her lace covered hands. "Thank you. I guess that I'm so used to working in gloves that I didn't think about them," she responded. "What sort of stitch did you use? I would have had to take the dress off of her to get it back together," Goo asked. Scully stood still for a moment considering the question. And smiled before answering. "Just used some of my medical training. I sutured it back together." Waiting for a second to see if the comment was a joke, Goo raised her eyebrows, a passable imitation of the master's. "Not a big deal. Every doctor learns how to sew people back up. And having Mulder as a partner gives me plenty of practice. So . . .," Dana replied smiling. A knock on the door to the room, and it opened. One of the organizers of the fete came in and started handing each of the girls a little booklet with an attached pencil. Scully was surprised when the older woman stopped and gave her one too. She looked it over. It was a small booklet of ivory parchment, the front "Birthday Celebration and Goff County Cotillion" and the date in raised letter printing. Below it was lettered "Dana Katherine Scully, M.D." in gold ink. Inside was prettily printed with 12 numbered lines, under the legend "Dance Card." It had a elastic loop just big enough to slide over her wrist and a goldtone pencil attached with a piece of red velvet ribbon. "Ladies. Ladies, It is time to line up for the Grand Processional," the woman handing out the dance cards announced. The girls lined behind her as she left the room. Noticing Scully's puzzlement, Ra walked up. "You'll have fun, Dana." Scully gave the blond a questioning look, "Fun doing what." "Being one of the debs, of course," Tammy finished. Seeing the redhead's confused look. "Didn't Goo tell you? All women that haven't been presented to Goff County society are eligible to be debutantes. It's actually quite fun." All the pieces fell into place and the panic struck. The white gown she wore. The gowns of the young women in the room. The dance card. Liver eating mutants, shape-shifting alien bounty- hunters, a pissed off mother, were all things she was used to dealing with. But hundred's of people looking up at her expecting her to be feminine, genteel, and graceful . . . . She shuddered. Feeling a feather light touch on her arm caused her to look up into Tammy's eyes. "Don't worry. Just go through the processional, dance the first dance with your escort, and then have a good time." Scully nodded her head numbly and headed for the door. "There you are, Dr Scully," Uncle Freddy greeted her. Scully looked up at the Circuit Court Judge. She had seen and talked with the man several times in the preceding week. Always well groomed and gracious, he had seemed to be the embodiment of the Southern Gentleman to the FBI agent. But now, gone were the Judge's robes and business suits, he had put on a virtual copy of the white Southern Planter's suit. Freddy gave the suit an air of dignity that she had not seen before. "And here is something for the most beautiful debutante this year," he said offering Scully a nosegay of carnations and baby's breath. Scully accepted the florist's box, stammering out her thanks. Freddy smiled at her while he took the box from her nerveless hands and tied the flowers to her left wrist. Leading her to the top of the Grand Stairs, he whispered reassurances to the nervous agent. And the announcer spoke, "Miss Dana Katherine Scully, MD and her escort The Honorable Judge Frederick ...." Mulder looked up at his partner and her escort. There was no jealousy, Freddy was doing her quite a complement escorting her here. She had a life outside of the X-Files and the FBI, just because he didn't . . . At the announcement that the debutantes had been introduced and that the 'Debutante Dance' would be the first dance of the evening, he backed up and then watched the young ladies and their escorts enjoy a waltz on an uncrowded dance floor. And she did look lovely in the gown. Mulder felt a light tap on his shoulder, turning, he saw Michelle, the waitress from the hotel dining room. She was dressed in a blue antebellum gown. The blue was one of those rich blues, he mused, remembering a Ceylonese Sapphire he had seen once at the Smithsonian. It was a delightful change from the blue skirt and white shirt of her hotel uniform. She was pulling back her hand after tapping him's shoulder with her fan. "Yes, Miss Michelle," he said, bowing slightly. "The next dance, sir," she drawled in her English accent. "Delighted," he replied and lead her to the dance floor. Almost everybody seemed to be on the floor dancing, Scully and Deputy Fitzpatrick, Riggs and Standish, Char and Freddy. And even, he, 'the FBI's most unwanted' had a beautiful woman in his arms dancing. "Enjoying your stay here in Goff County," the beautiful woman asked. "Yes. My partner and I are having the best time that we have ever had on a case. Everybody has been friendly. The work has been going well." "Good," Michelle replied. "My big cousin wanted me to ask you if you were enjoying your stay here in Goff County. He's very much a Goff County booster." "You'll have to introduce me to him," Mulder answered. As her wide smile, he concentrated on enjoying a slow waltz with an attractive woman in his arms. Soon the dance ended and Michelle led him over to a man dressed in a Confederate uniform talking to a group of men. The obvious weight in the uniform's holster told Mulder that this was one man that took reenactment seriously. "Cousin," Michelle said, touching the Confederate on the shoulder. Mulder grinned and stuck out his hand as the man turned around. And nearly went into cardiac arrest when Sheriff Steve Grimes reached out and shook the agent's suddenly lifeless hand. "You don't have to be so formal with me, Mulder," Sheriff Grimes. he thought, waiting for the sheriff to pull out his pistol and shoot the agent for being too friendly with his favorite cousin. "Mulder, are you ok? Do you need to sit down," the concern in her voice and Grimes' face was there for all to see. Mulder decided to be a man and take it. "I'm all right," he said straightening up. He looked right into Grimes' eyes. "Good," Grimes said, slipping an arm around Michelle and giving her a quick hug. "So, you've saved me the trouble of introducing you to each other. Michelle, Mulder is a great guy, the FBI agent working with Goo. Mulder, Michelle is a smart girl. Headstrong like her mother. Can't tell her a blessed thing," he said shaking his head. "Now, Michelle, if I can have the next dance?" Mulder watched Michelle and Grimes go off dancing. He shook his head smiling, it was turning into an interesting evening. Goo wondered, idling tapping her chin with her ivory and silk fan. She wasn't too worried about Dana, with Freddy escorting her in the Debutante Processional, she would be a very popular dance partner. And Freddy had been a good sport about it, 'It is my Duty As A Southerner,' he had told her, with each word capitalized. And he hadn't even told Goo that she had owed him on this favor. But Mulder was another issue. Great guy, bona fide wallflower. <*Oh Shit*,> she thought, the rythmatic tapping missing a beat or two, But seeing him dancing with Michelle ended that worry. Seeing Michelle and Grimes walk out onto the dance floor, she collected Mulder and led him over to an older woman that looked as if she was holding court. Her bright eyes followed the two as they walked up. "Mrs Rogers." At the older woman's nod, Goo continued. "This is Mrs. Isa Rogers, our 'Last Surviving Confederate Widow'. Along with the Debutantes, we are celebrating her birthday tonight. Mrs Rogers, this is Special Agent Fox Mulder, with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Dr. Dana Scully, his partner, and Agent Mulder captured the woman believed to be killing the federal and state employees." Mulder saw the woman nod and waited patiently while Mrs Rogers and Goo discussed the activities of their respective families. When they finished, Mrs Rogers dismissed Goo and turned her attention to the agent. "Mr. Mulder, or do you go by Fox," she asked. "I go by Mulder, ma'am." She cocked an eye at him. "Mulder will do well. You don't look like a Fox. I've seen too many foxes. Sneaky little animals. Mulder fits you." "Thank you ma'am," Mulder replied, giving her a smile. "Please get me some punch, Mulder," she asked. Mulder gave a half bow and left on his mission. The refreshment table looked well stocked with all kinds of food. And two bowls of punch. He studied them both for a second. They looked the same. He ladled a cup from the first. Normal bland Sunday School punch. Rather sweet. He ladled a cup from the second. he thought. He ladled a second cup from the second bowl. The Last Surviving Confederate Widow took a sip from her glass and saluted Mulder with it. "I knew you were gentlemanly enough to bring me the right punch. Good choice. Some of the Tuttle 'shine in it." At the young man's raised eyebrows, she explained. "The Tuttles add a bit lemon and lime juice to their mash. You can taste it in the whiskey." She sat for a moment longer, staring at Mulder, sipping at the spiked punch, then asked a direct question. "Where do you hail from." The question took Mulder by surprise. 'Where do you hail from,' is not something that he was used to. Then he translated it to 'Where are you from,' and perhaps even more important, 'Where is your family from.' This is of course the Deep South, and while what you do is important, so is where your family 'hails from.' "I live in Arlington, Virginia. I was born and my parents are from Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts." Martha's Vineyard queued Mrs. Rogers' attention. "Martha's Vineyard," she repeated. "Doris," she called to a just slightly younger woman that Mulder remembered seeing following Mrs. Rogers' around Aurora's square. "Didn't my GreatAunt Rosemarie marry that Yankee whaler and go with him to Martha's Vineyard?" Mulder's attention moved to Doris. "Yes, Mother. I think she did." "That settles it. Mulder, you must be kin to me," Mrs. Rogers told him. Mulder turned from woman to woman, he thought. Then it came to him "Well, thank you, Mrs. Rogers. I did not know that I had any family in this area." "You are welcome, young man. Now, who is this," she asked. Mulder turned his head. Scully seemed to be gliding, face slightly flushed, a smile on her face. Mulder made the introductions. Then watched the two. Both were strong willed women, that he was sure of. But their conversation ended with nice comments about the weather and promises to call on each other. A tap on her shoulder got Scully's attention. And she was soon off dancing in the arms of the young man Mulder had paid off that afternoon. Mulder watched them until he was tapped in turn. "Mr. Mulder," a quiet voice intruded into his thoughts. Mulder looked down to see the features of Kylie Loxton. he remembered. He made his excuses to Mrs Rogers, and took Kylie onto the floor. They enjoyed the dance and a glass, both from the Sunday School bowl, of punch. Scully mused, wondering where her partner had disappeared to. The last time she saw him, he had been sharing a glass of punch with Kylie. She decided to try the balcony off the mezzanine on the chance he went out there. And found him. "Enjoying yourself, Mulder," she asked, walking up to him. She saw his smile, one of those lopsided ones that told her that he had things on his mind. "And what are you thinking about, partner." "Resigning the Bureau and moving out here." The answer floored her as much as a proposal for marriage. "What has brought this on," she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral. Mulder levered himself up onto the brick bannister. "Gotta cigarette," he asked. Scully made a move to start checking the few places to hide things on the gown and looked up at Mulder. "None, you know I don't smoke." And at his pointed glance, "Much any more. Haven't smoked much since medical school." She looked directly at him. "Anyway, you don't smoke. What's up?" The second question told Mulder that his partner was expecting a answer. "I'm relaxed Scully. Everybody has been nice, even friendly. Nobody has shot at us. No black suits, no morphing aliens that don't talk much. I've been invited to at least thirty homes for dinner. Grimes half offered me a job as a detective in Aurora. I was told that with my degree, I could even get a job as an Adjunct Professor at the state university at Boone. Hell, I could even get on a tenure track and become a full Professor. Nice and restful. I could use that." Scully looked over at Mulder. These were words she never expected to hear from her partner. She could stop this by asking him to forget it. But she would never ask him to forget a dream. "And your search for the truth," but she could go Socratic and ask him leading questions. Mulder looked into her eyes. Even in the dim light on the veranda, she could see the pain behind the hazel. "We are going nowhere, Scully. We are seeing only what they want us to see. We are learning only what they want us to learn. It's cost us family members. I just tired of the fighting sometimes." Scully reached out and slid her hand up and down the wool of his coat. She would do anything for him, and tonight she would be his conscious. "Mulder, you've become a big city boy," she hoped her gentle smile would take the sting from the words. "This is a small town. You would get bored in months. You're used to a wide variety of restaurants, of entertainments. Grimes does a good job with what he has, but his is a small town operation, you're used to the big time. How long until you got bored with your work and got sloppy?" She saw the droop of his shoulders and hated herself for it. But this man was used to a different ethnic style of cooking every day of the month, he wouldn't get that here, or in Boone, or even in Raleigh. He was used to the big city. He wouldn't last. Mulder lifted his face to Scully, a wan smile on his lips. "You are forever my conscious, Doctor Scully," he told her. She searched his face for anger, for resentment, and found none. "You are of course right, Scully. I wouldn't survive here long before I would want to go back to Washington." She took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry Mulder. I'm so sorry." He gave her a gentle squeeze back. "I'll be ok." He got up, straightened his coat, and offered Scully his arm. "The last dance of the evening," he offered. She took his arm and told him, "Yes. Thank you." They rejoined the others in the ballroom. And enjoyed one last dance. Section 15 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 15 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 6:00AM Monday, 13 March Scully's Bedroom, Brick House "A Missed Chance" ------- Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The quiet tapping intruded into Scully's sleep. She stretched slowly, languorously like the Persian cat, Angus thought she was like. The room had cooled down through the night and the down comforter was warm. A quick glance to insure that the bathroom door was closed, then a low "Yes, Mulder". The door opened just enough for Mulder to stick his head in. He had to smile at the sight. They had discussed jogging this morning. And rather than see his partner in sweats and track shoes, she was still lounging under a thick comforter with only her hair and eyes peaking out. "Wanna come for a run? Last chance before we head back to DeeCee," he asked. And the answer did not surprise him. "Not today Mulder. This bed feels too warm and soft for me to want to get up this early. Sorry." "No problem. I'll see you when I get back." He closed the door without a noise and started down the back stairs. He had to smile, He was cool. 8:00AM Monday, 13 March Kitchen, Brick House "Where Art Thou, Mulder" ------- "Good Morning, Dana," the ever smiling Goo greeted her friend. Handing her a mug of coffee, she asked, "Have you seen your partner?" "Not since he left for his run." Scully took a quick sip of the hot liquid. "I was supposed to go with him but over slept." Seeing Goo's twinkling eyes on her, "Ok, I slept in, the bed I'm in is too comfortable for me to want to get up and run in the cold morning air." Goo gave a quick chuckle and refilled Scully's mug. "Those feather beds are soft aren't they." A quick glance at her watch, "Shall we head out, or wait a bit longer?" Scully checked her own wristwatch, "Head out. You're driving?" At Goo's nod, "He's got your back door key. He can shower, then drive himself," she finished. Goo considered it for a moment then agreed, "Sounds like a plan to me." "I'll get my purse," Scully said. At Goo's nod, she rinsed out her mug and hurried up the stairs. A quick rush down the stairs and the two women were heading into town. 8:30AM Monday, 13 March Brooklyn Bakery, Tammy and Winky, Proprietors "Decisions, Decisions, Decisions" ------- Scully couldn't make up her mind. With Mulder among the missing, Goo had not fixed breakfast, so the two ladies were hungry. And while it was a toss up between the Aurora Inn and the dining room at the Aberdeen as to who had the best breakfasts, nobody was as fast as the Brooklyn Bakery. If the customer could make up their mind? There was such a selection. Scully barely registered the beep of Goo's pager. "Tammy, may I please borrow your phone for a second," Goo asked the dark-haired baker. Nodding her thanks as the cordless was passed over the counter, she quickly punched in the phone number on the pager display, Sheriff John Grimes' office number. "Grimes," came the tinny voice. "Goo here." "Are Agents Scully and Mulder with you?," Grimes asked. Goo could tell that there was a bit of tension in the Sheriff's voice. "Scully's right here. Mulder was out jogging when we left my house about half an hour ago," she responded. Goo would have sworn that Grimes used one of the seven words that cannot be used on television, and Grimes rarely swore. "What's up, Steve?" "I can't say over the phone. Where are you?" "Tammy's." "Then get your collective butts to my office pronto. We need to discuss something right quick." Then hung up. Scully straightened up, told Tammy the order. A quick look at her friend told her that something was up. "Goo," she asked in the tone reserved for questions. "Steve Grimes just paged me. Something is up that he doesn't want to discuss over the phone." Goo's tone was puzzled. Something was troubling her. Goo turned towards Tammy, "Are any of Carmine's bagels left?" At Tammy's nod, she smiled, "Two with lox and cream cheese." Scully told herself. She didn't know the players as well as she would have liked, but her cop senses told her that something was hitting the fan. Scully didn't have too much more time to ruminate before they got to the sheriff's office. Fitzpatrick, one of the deputies that Scully fondly remembered dancing with the night before, led them to Grimes's office. Grimes stood up and waved the women to their chairs. Scully couldn't help but notice that after Grimes's nod of dismissal, Fitzpatrick left the office, closed the door, then stood guard over it. "I am sorry for the mystery. Scully, Goo, do either one of you know where Agent Mulder is right now," he asked. The two women looked at each other in puzzlement and shook their heads no. Scully spoke up, "This morning at about 6, he came by my room to see if I wanted to go jogging with him. I declined. He jogs anywhere from an one to one and a half hours. He should have been back by the time we left Goo's. I thought he was just running longer then normal. And that he would drive himself into town. So what is going on, Sheriff?" Grimes' steel gray eyes bored into the cerulean blue eyes of the agent. He hated what he was about to say, but had to say it. "We got a phone call this morning at 8:25. The caller informed us that they had Mulder. And if we do not release Anders, they will kill him. They gave further instructions where to find evidence of the kidnapping." Scully felt that she had been gut-punched. Her vision grayed for a second, then firmed up. As soon as Grimes saw the agent stiffen, he started to get up, but when she relaxed, eyes bright and focused, he knew that he didn't need to worry about her today. "The caller identified a mailbox where we could find proof. I have a deputy running out to the mailbox to collect what is there. Another is checking out your house, Goo, to see if he is there." A knock on the door interrupted their discussion. Grimes looked up and waved the deputy in. Death and evidence was part and parcel of Scully's everyday life, but never made it easy when it became personal. Scully never saw Melissa, while she suffered from the bullet in her brain, until she was cleaned up and in the hospital. And her father was on his funeral bier the first time she saw him dead. She was not ready for the contents of the evidence bag the deputy handed to Grimes. It was an small plastic card, an FBI identification card. Grimes handed her the bag. And for the second time that morning, she paled. And then came back to herself. "It's his. No doubt." She set the bag down gently on Grimes's desk. "Could it be a forgery," Goo asked. Scully shook her head. "Those things are almost impossible to forge. And it has several wear marks that I remember seeing on his ID. It's his all right. Sheriff?" "Yes." "I'll need someplace to work, and the sheriff's office would probably the best place to work from." Grimes studied the petite redhead for a second. He had seen grown men with decades of service fall apart if something happened to their partner. And this mere waif has the spunk to keep moving. "Fitzpatrick," he yelled. The deputy at the door stuck his head in. "John, take Agent Scully to Don Wesley's desk. Give her what ever she wants." Turning back to Scully, "This office will do everything in its power to help find your partner and arrest and prosecute his kidnappers." "Thank you." Grimes knew the score. They really didn't have snowball's chance in Hell of finding him at all, much less finding him alive. 9:00AM Monday, 13 March Bullpen, Goff County Sheriffs Office "Just keep searching." ------- Scully had donned surgical gloves and gave the ID a close examination. She immediately felt guilty for the thought. He hadn't planned this. It wasn't his fault. But it was still her responsibility to find his ass. And to make a phone call. She quickly dialed the eleven digits and waited for the phone to be picked up. "Good Morning. FBI Assistant Director Skinner's Office. Kim speaking" It was his secretary, we have another moment before the shit hits the fan. "Good Morning, Kim. This is Dana Scully. I need to talk with the AD." "Sorry, Dana. Skinner is in a meeting and he will not be getting out of it until after lunch. Would you . . ." "Kim. I need him now. It is an emergancy." Skinner would want to be told *now*, not later. "I'll get him. Give me your phone number in case we get disconnected." Scully read off the phone number then silently waited, outwardly calm, inwardly in turmoil. Her partner was kidnapped. Part of her was out there, God knows where. And now to have to wait through that damned FBI musak. "What is the emergency, Agent Scully," the gruff voice of FBI Assistant Director Walter Skinner came on the line. No time for niceties, direct to business. Scully filled him in percisely. "Your confidence level." "High, sir. This is his ID. He is missing. There is nothing to suggest that he may have left on one of his wild goose chases." "OK." She gave him a few seconds to digest things, "The local PD has started searching and is contacting the state and other local level law enforcement. I propose to contact the AIC's in North Carolina and Knoxville, Tennessee and start the ball rolling at the federal level." A few seconds passed, "Good plan. Any problems or questions contact me. I'll be down as soon as I can arrange it. I'll call later when I get a better idea on when I can leave DeeCee." "Yes, sir. I'll see you then." Scully hung up the phone. It was going to be a long day. 8:00PM Monday, 13 March Bullpen, Goff County Sheriffs Office "The Arrival" ------- Scully looked up at the map in front of her. It was a large scale map of Goff county with all colors of little pins stuck into it. Black meant found dead bodies. They had found five dead bodies. Three of which matched Ander's MO. The way the messages were radioed or phoned in would have been comic if the situation wasn't so tragic. 'We have found a dead body, and NO it is not Mulder.' They barked out the disclaimer in the same breath as their initial report. Everybody was trying to keep up the hopes that Mulder would be found. Green were good places to check. Which were changing to red pins, showing that they have been checked, or Yellow, nothing this time, check again latter. She didn't know where they had dug up the rolling bulletin board that they had tacked the map up on. It looked a lot alike the ones she remembered from grade school, she mused. Scully looked down at her watch. She knew. She had been on the phone to every FBI office in North Carolina and Eastern Tennessee. Twenty agents had already gotten to Aurora and were out pounding the pavement. She vaguely remembered Goo putting a sandwich in front of her, but by the trash in the wastebasket, she must have eaten it. And now Skinner was due in an hour and a half. He had gotten an Army Blackhawk helicopter to be assigned to this case. And said copter was due to land at the heli pad at the hospital. Grimes had volunteered to go pick him up. That was fine by her, she could spend more time on the search. 10:00PM Monday, 13 March Heli Pad, Goff County General Hospital "A Changing of the Guard" ------- It had to make Grimes think of Viet Nam. Standing in the dark, waiting for some officer, straining for the sound of a chopper rotor. He had checked up on 'FBI Assistant Director Walter Skinner.' His sources said that he was one of the younger Assistant Directors and on the track to becoming the Director if his maverick agent Fox Mulder didn't cause too many problems. That Skinner was known for being a by-the-book agent and director. And that he did not let his people down. And that he had been a well decorated Marine in Viet Nam. he mused. He heard the sound of the Blackhawk in the northeast. He waved everybody back from the chunk of pavement that doubled as helipad and overflow parking. And soon the camo bird of prey landed and as soon as the rotor stopped turning, Grimes made his way up to the craft. Skinner took the well remembered crash helmet off and clapped the copter pilot's shoulder before leaving the Blackhawk. It had felt odd riding in the back of a military copter again. But it was now time to start sorting out the problems that one of his favorite agents had caused him. "Good Evening, Director Skinner. My name is Sheriff Steve Grimes." "Walter Skinner." They shook hands. Grimes led Skinner over to the waiting Cherokee and drove him into town. 10:15PM Monday, 13 March Bullpen, Goff County Sheriff's Office "End of the Day" --------------- They were standing around a map of Goff county. Scully was running the briefing, going over the search. He looked over the people in front of him. "And now, any questions, Director Skinner," Scully asked. "None, Agent Scully. You have done a fine job here." He could see her color slightly at that. "The investigation into Mulder's disappearance is going well. You have covered a sizable area in the short amount of time. "Agent Scully, please log in your field notes that I am taking responsibility as AIC at this time." Taking a quick look at the map, "Briefing tomorrow at seven o'clock. Now, if everybody will excuse Agent Scully and myself, we have to go over our next step." Everybody dispersed giving Skinner the privacy he wanted. "Agent Scully, I want you as AAIC. Now go back to the District Attorney's and . . . " "Sir. I respectfully state that my place is out in the field helping with the investigation," Scully interrupted. He moved in close to her, invading her space. His eyes looked over the room, noting that nobody was close. Adjusting his eyeglasses, he looked full into her eyes. "Agent Scully," his voice low. "The soonest I will be able to get an behavioral analyst is Thursday. You are familiar with Mulder's methods and his notes. I need somebody to help me figure out what these perps might be up to. Mulder's greatest hope may be what you come up with. So get back to Livingoo's, study his notes, and get a night's sleep. That's a direct order, Agent." She cursed the tears in her voice, "Yes. Sir." She turned and left. Skinner watched her leave the room, hating what he had just done. A footstep interrupted his thoughts. "That was pretty cold, Director Skinner," Grimes said walking up. "Was it, Sheriff? If she had stayed, she would have tired out. This way she has the chance of getting some sleep tonight. We. . . Mulder needs her at her sharpest tomorrow. And with us working together, let's stick to Walter," he finished. "Fine, Walter, it's Steve. They're fine agents. Sharp, good with people, and professional through and through. Hell, I wouldn't mind either of them on my staff." Skinner chuckled at the idea. "One big problem, you either get neither of them or both of them. You can't separate them. I knew that six months after they started working together." Grimes nodded, "You know, if you don't get Mulder back, you'll loose Scully." Skinner looked back over at the Sheriff, "Yes, I know." 10:45PM Monday, 13 March New Hope Church Road, Goff County "Thoughts" ------- Scully looked out her window of the Jeepster as they rode back to Goo's, the rythmatic swoosh of the roadster's windshield wipers and the occasional rattle of sleet providing a background for the thoughts in her head. Finally the pragmatic side of Scully came through the guilt of Mulder's kidnapping. Skinner had told her to go through Mulder's notes and she would do so, just as soon as they got back to 'Brick House.' 11:15PM Monday, 14 March Brick House "Rain and Ice" -------------- Goo and Scully looked out from the veranda of Goo's family home. The drive home had been miserable and the walk from the carriage house had gotten both of them soaked and cold. Goo could see the worry in her friend's face at the cold weather. "It may be better if he is kidnapped rather than being out in this," Scully told the blond. "He won't last long if he is lying somewhere in the woods without shelter." Goo nodded and lead Scully into the house. 11:30PM Monday, 13 March Mulder's Bedroom, Brickhouse "What was left" --------------- Scully went into her partner's room to get his notes. She quickly scanned the room and a load of bricks dropped on her. On the dresser was a hippack he often used when he was out jogging. Empty. He carried his ankle gun in it while jogging. Which means that if the hippack is here empty. . . The suddenly recognized weight of her purse made her open it up and check. Amoungst the accumulated detritus that had accumulated since Turkey Day, there were the tools she used as an FBI pathologist, several pairs of surgical gloves in both her and Mulder's sizes, a disposable facemask, her reloads, her wallet and FBI ID. And an added couple of pounds, Mulder's ankle gun. She had borrowed it for the ball the prior night and had never given it back. So he had been out there without protection. She collapsed sitting on the bed. came the unwanted thought. Shaking her head clear, she got up, grabbed the folder of Mulder's notes and went back to her room. 01:00AM Tuesday, 14 March Scully's bedroom, Brick House "Let the weary sleep" ------- Goo quietly walked up the back stairs of her ancestral home. Scully had been up there working for a couple of hours now and Goo was uncertain if hot coffee or a calmative tea would be the best right now. A knock, and when no answer was forthcomming, she let herself into Scully's room. Scully was in there, papers in neat stacks on the bed spread. And asleep. it was obvious to Goo that Scully had just curled up and went to sleep. Goo covered her friend, turned off the light and went to bed herself. Section 16 follows ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 16 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- From Smalltown, USA A series by Jerry Riggens This is your columnist Jer Riggins with another column as I tour through America's Smalltowns. It is late Sunday evening as I write this, standing on a balcony overlooking the Ballroom at the Seven Gables Plantation. The Birthday Celebration and Goff County Cotillion is now history. The belle of the Ball was the elfin Char Hall. This cute young lady led her fellow debutantes to their introduction to society. They were respondent it their white Antebellum gowns and many of their escorts were likewise dressed in the clothing of an earlier time. Once a ball of the landed gentry, the Goff County Cotillion is a very egalitarian event. Today, all young ladies living in the County can be presented. And one young lady that had never been presented to Goff County Society was Dana Katherine Scully. I was able to spend some time talking with Isa Rogers, the lady who's birthday was being celebrated. She is known by the sobriquet "The Last Surviving Confederate Widow." Her first husband was a drummer boy in the Confederate Army. A very alert and knowledgeable woman, we spoke of the changes she has seen. She laughed at the thought that Cathy Anders was a big deal, "Her father, maybe, but not her," was her comment. She told me several tales of Prohibition and moonshiners in the mountains. "Violence is nothing new in the county." As I stand here thinking back over Mrs Rogers' comments and this evening, I must ask the question, "Is the peace and quiet that we ascribe to the small town a reality, or a wish?" I cannot say, but I will continue to look. This is Jerry Riggins, signing off from another one of America's Smalltowns. Aurora, North Carolina. 6:35AM Tuesday, 14 March 199- New Hope Church Road, Goff County "The Cold Gray Dawn" ------- The very pines seemed kneeling down praying in the cold gray dawn. The rain had continued through the night and now the tree's branches were weighted down with gray ice. Cold, gray ice that muted the bright green of the pine's needles that had greeted Scully just a few days before. The sky wasn't any better. There was not blue in it, just a leaden gray that promised more ice, snow, and cold wind. It was a day that held no promise of warmth. The playground that had been a buzz of brightly clothed children enjoying the spring sun was now a collection of pipes against winter browned grass. The store's windows that had been open and inviting business were now shuttered as if expecting an assault. Goo parked the roadster in the lot beside the Sheriff's office. Scully glanced at the blond over the roof of the Jeepster as Goo locked the car door. The humor and friendliness that had characterized Goo was gone, replaced by a sword-like sharpness. Scully was glad to have somebody like that around at a time like this. The sight of the parka covered Tammy was a surprise to Scully. As was the basket of freshly baked pastries that she pressed into the agent's hands. "We all are pulling for you, Dana. We hope that Mulder is found soon." As her eyes clouded with tears, Scully was certain that she heard Winky's faint cry coming from the coated figure as she hurried back to her shop. 07:10AM Tuesday, 14 March Bullroom, Goff County Sheriff's Office "A Lack of Southern Gentlemen" ------- Grimes watched Skinner leaving the Bullroom for Grimes's office. The chime of Skinner's beeper told them both that something had came up. Grimes was not liking the mood of the room. Many of the FBI agents seemed to be feeling some resentment towards the petite agent in front of them, describing the searches for the day. "And that is all for now. All teams will check in via radio hourly. Good luck and take care of yourselves." Scully picked up her notes from the podium and started for the door. And hesitated halfway there. Some smart guy just had to say something, "Mrs Spooky seems to be holding up well without the Mulder-Meat around." She straightened up and hurried out the door leaving it half closed behind her. A female agent behind the talker tapped him on the shoulder, "Spooky's the only one that can tolerate the subzero Ice Queen." Grimes saw Fitzpatrick start to rise in indignation. Grimes started to stand. But Goo beat him to it. And walked right over to the man who had made the first comment. "How Dare You Make Comments Like That," asked the blond DA, drawing out each word. Grimes sat down to enjoy the morning entertainment. "She is an FBI agent same as yourself. Mulder is an FBI agent as well. Would you like to hear them talk about you like that?" She turned to the agent sitting next to her victim who had the gall to snicker. "And John Beauregard Lee. You are from the South and know better. No Southern Gentleman would act like you are acting here. And would not sit there quietly while somebody else was being mocked. Your mother would be ashamed of you if she heard you." Grimes saw Skinner through the wireglass of the door. He held up his hand to forestal Skinner from coming in. Striding up to the front of the room she turned her anger to everybody. "I have not known Agents Scully and Mulder long. But while they have slept under my roof, nothing has happened that would make me doubt them. They have always acted like the perfect Lady and Gentleman that I thought FBI agents were supposed to act. Much better then you have here." She left the room. Grimes stood up straight and tall. If this wasn't nipped in the bud now, there would be problems. The deputies would not like working with assholes like these FBIers. And if the word got out, much of the aid and assistance that they had enjoyed would dry up. The menfolk of Goff county wouldn't like hearing talk like this. "Deputies. You will not repeat any of this unfortunate discussion this morning, neither will you allow it to get in the way of our investigation. I expect you to act the professionals you are. Now, Dismissed." Grimes was happy to see his staff, men and women both, get up and file out of the room. He picked up his hat and got ready to leave the room himself. "She sure does talk pretty. Talks just like her mother. And you know, she is right." He left holding the door open for Skinner. Skinner was not happy. He didn't know if Mulder and Scully was doing each other every night. As long as it did not effect their work, he really didn't care. But for it to be mentioned in public. He strode into the room, shutting the door behind him. "OK, everybody, shut up and sit down," He told them while striding to the front of the room. He stood behind the podium and looked at the FBI agents there and when they did not move quick enough, he reiterated, "I said SHUT UP and SIT DOWN." The Marine officer was back. "You guys are real bright. You know that? Making comments like that in front of outsiders is great. That blond is the District Attorney handling the Anders case. And the man with the Stetson is the local Sheriff. How are they going to think about us after what you have said? We have to work with them. "Now if there is anybody that can't give their 110%, speak now. I can get you transferred today. But if you stay, I expect each and everyone of you to do your best as investigators. Because if you don't, I will talk to your superiors, and express my displeasure. "I have worked with Fox Mulder and have never known him to say derogatory things behind another agent's back. What he needs to say, he says it to their face. Obviously, the same can't be said about you. Now dismissed." he thought as the agents filled out the door. 07:20AM Tuesday, 14 March Ladies' Room, Goff County Sheriff's Office "A talk" ------ "Thought you might need your purse, Dana," Goo set the bag next to her friend. Scully was leaning against the washstand in the small room. She could tell that Dana had been crying, but knew that the agent would never admit it. Scully mumbled her thanks pulling out her hairbrush, and started to brush out her hair. By the time she had finished, she started to talk. "I don't like what they say about me, but I've come to live with it. But it's when they cut down Mulder and he isn't here to defend himself, it really bugs me. Not that they don't take potshots at him when he's there, but at least then he can answer them." She chuckled before continuing, "And boy can he answer them. "They talk behind his back like this, but let them have a problem with a case," she gave a bitter laugh. "And he is their fair- haired boy, there to solve their problems. And he does, generally without wanting nor getting the credit he deserves. "I've known Mulder for four years now. He has never made a pass at me. He has never treated me with anything but the utmost in professionalism." Scully set down the hairbrush and turned to face Goo. "Once when I disappeared, he left no stone unturned to find me. How can I do any less for him." Noon Tuesday, 14 March Bullroom, Sheriff's Office "An Uncomfortable Lunch" ------- Scully heard the slightest of throat clearing noises and looked quickly up. And stood up even quicker. "Mrs Rogers, please sit down. What brings you out on in such horrible weather," she asked. "My nephew, Mulder, of course," a hurmph told Scully that she should have known. "How is the search coming?" Scully swallowed, and told the older woman as simply as she could, "We have not found any trace of him or where he is being held. I am sorry, Mrs Rogers." "And I am sorry for you, my girl. Well, I want you to know that the Alter and Rosary Society is meeting everyday to pray for you and Mulder." "Thank you, ma'am. Please tell the ladies of the Alter and Rosary Society that their prayers are a comfort for me." "Now, where is this Mister Skinner that I've been hearing so much about?" Luckily, Skinner conveniently showed up. "Sir," Scully started, "May I present, Mrs Isa Rogers, the matriarch of Goff County." "Mrs Rogers, this is FBI Assistant Director Walter Skinner. He is Mulder and my direct superior. He came down to direct the investigation himself." Both the short, frail-looking old woman, and the bear-like ex- Marine studied each other. "Now, what are you doing to bring my nephew home, Mr Skinner," she asked, thumping her cane on the floor for emphasis. She was, if nothing else, direct. Skinner shot a questioning look at Scully and answered. "Mrs Rogers. I can assure you that everything that the FBI can do to find Agent Mulder is being done." She continued to stare at him for a moment and nodded. "Good. I don't like losing kin I just met. Well, then carry on. I'll be by tomorrow." One of the deputies helped Mrs Rogers to the door. "Scully, 'losing kin'," Skinner asked. "Sir, Mrs Rogers is convinced that Mulder is descended from one of her great-aunts that married a Martha's Vineyard whaler. So she believes that Mulder is therefore family, or 'kin'. That is all." "Because, by Mrs Rogers claiming Mulder as kin, Mulder is now related to half of the North Carolina State Legislature, and several senior members of Congress. One of her daughters is a sorority sister, if not related to the wife of Jesse Helms," Scully added. "I believe you, Agent Scully." He shook his head, mumbling something about Mulder not needing any more connections in Congress. Scully's lips twitched, suppressing a smile. Skinner continued, "Grimes just told me that The Goff County Ladies Society has brought us lunch. Hungry?" Scully had forgotten about food more than once while on a case. And this was no exception. But at the mention of a meal, her stomach remembered. "Yes, Sir." Lunch was an American smorgasbord of cold cuts and soup. Roast beef, turkey breast, sliced city and country ham. Sliced cheeses and fresh baked breads. A tureen of Scotch Broth and one of Tomato soup. Coffee, hot tea, mulled cider, and a cooler full of soft drinks finished the board. Her stomach told her of it's pleasure at being filled with something other than cold coffee and promises. The food lifted her spirits as it always did. "Agent Scully, Grimes wants to see you in his office," one of the khaki uniformed deputies whispered to her. she thought seeing Grimes and Skinner through the windows into Grimes' office. They were staring like a couple of cats that have just flushed their prey. And a scared looking Priscilla Standish was the prey. Section 17 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 17 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Half Past Noon Tuesday, 14 March Sheriff Grimes Office "Grilled" ------- Scully walked into a tableau that the view through the glass only hinted at. Grimes and Skinner were leaning back against the desk. Grimes, standing more at ease, bracing himself with his hands against the desktop. Skinner was standing with his arms crossed, eyes down, looking at the victim. Scully had been there. There would be no mercy in his eyes. "Please close the door, Agent Scully," Grimes quietly asked as the redhead entered the room. Scully closed the door and walked up to the desk. Priscilla looked up, pleading in her eyes, the bravado that had been a characteristic of the LA lawyer gone, replaced by a badly shaken woman. Scully's blue eyes were drawn to the package sitting on the desk. On top of a kraft envelope there was a Redskin's sweatshirt, torn, tattered, now bloodstained. Scully didn't need blood typing, DNA testing, or any of the myriad tests that she knew the labs would run. It was Mulder's. "What happened," Scully quietly asked. Standish stammered out the tale. She had gotten a phone call from the front desk at the Aberdeen telling her that there was a package waiting for her. She wasn't expecting anything, but went down to pick it up. When she got back to her room, the contents confused her, the sweatshirt and an audio cassette. She started to listen to the cassette, then called Grimes. "I don't know what is going on here. I've told my client that if she knows anything, it would be in her best interest to volunteer the information. She just looks at me, laughs, then discusses my eating and sexual habits in crude terms. Why they sent it to me, I do not have the slightest idea." "Scully," Skinner murmured. Scully understood what her boss was saying, "What do you think? Questions? Comments?" "My bag," a request she made looking at the sanguine clothing on the desk. Grimes went to the door, opened it, and called out for somebody to bring him Agent Scully's purse. Skinner asked the lawyer some rather pointed questions about the kidnapping. Who might be involved? Has anybody contacted her prior to this? Who might be Ander's associates? He knew that there were things that the Canons would not allow Standish to talk about, but he needed to know what her involvement in the kidnapping was. But there was no new information to be gotten from the lawyer. Scully nodded her thanks to the deputy who brought in her purse. On went the latex gloves, then she unfolded the shirt. . "It's Agent Mulder's all right." "Are you absolutely certain, Agent Scully," asked Skinner. Scully gave a cold bitter laugh that startled all in the room. "Oh, yes sir. I am certain. Mulder ripped his sweatshirt jogging three weeks ago in some backwater town in South Carolina. Both of our sewing kits were empty, we'd been on the road so long. It was a Sunday morning and the only thread I could find to sew with was black suture silk from my medical bag. It's his all right." Skinner gave his agent a quick look. Scully was a paragon of professionalism at all times. "Let's listen to the tape." Grimes nodded and got a boombox that Scully vaguely remembered had been in the bullpen playing Conway Twitty and Johnny Cash songs earlier. She slipped the tape in, and hit play. A female voice came from the speakers. "Well, you wonderful idiots of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, you couldn't take a hint could you. Release our leader and we'll release Mulder. "Keep our leader, and we'll kill Mulder. "That's the bottom line. Since you are moving real slow about things. Let's give you some help making your decision. Say something nice for your friends Mulder. They could hear movement in the background before Mulder's voice came through the speaker. The hollowness told Scully how weak he was. "Don't give into them. Prosecute the bitch." The sound of a slap came from the speaker. "That was not being a nice boy. You must be punished. Now listen here Mister FBI. Each day you don't release Anders, we'll break one of Mulder's arms and legs. And here is today's break." The sharp crack of breaking bone was heard, then a scream. The recording ended. Skinner looked over at Scully. Her porcelain complexion, had lost that bloom that lurked behind the fairness. She wasn't wavering standing there. She wasn't going to let anybody see her sweat. "Ms. Standish, you now know what kind of associates your client has. And if anything happens to Agent Mulder, I will see that everyone involved is prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Keep in touch with this office. You may now go," Skinner dismissed Standish. As she was scurrying out of the room, an uninvited, olive-skinned man was standing in the corner of the office. "And who the hell are you," Skinner offered as a greeting. "Jerry Riggins, of the Chicago Tattler-Tribune." He passed over a leather folder containing a press pass. "That doesn't mean that you can waltz in and interfere with investigations. Get out of here and stay out of my office," Grimes growled. "What do you want, Jer," came the quiet question from Scully. Both Grimes and Skinner looked over at her. She was standing straight, still a little pale, but holding her own. "I want to watch the investigation, be present at most meetings, be the first member of the press to interview Mulder when he is rescued." "And if we throw you out on your ear," Skinner suggested as a possibility. "I'll call my editors, it'll be a breaking story on CNN. Within 3 hours the networks will be here." A half-grin broke his face, "I might even make Nightline, this evening." All of them remembered the images from the Freeman standoff. It would be a disaster. "Accept his offer," suggested Scully. "For a member of the fourth estate he is OK. He knows when to keep his mouth shut." Skinner thought. "Thank you, Agent Scully," Riggins said with a half bow in her direction. The temperature in the room dropped as Scully stared at Riggins. "Don't thank me, Jer. If you interfere with this investigation, I'll be coming for you myself, and you'll wish that Grimes and Skinner had bodily thrown you into the street this hour." She turned to Skinner and Grimes, Riggins forgotten. "At least we now have proof that Agent Mulder was alive and coherent when this tape was made. Now if you will excuse me. I some work to do." At Skinner's nod, she walked out of the office with the shirt and the tape to send them to the lab. "Mister Riggens, don't interfere. And I will see everything you send out until this is resolved," Skinner growled at the newsman. After Riggens' nod, he left too. 11:30 PM Tuesday, 14 March Parlor, Brick House "Interlude" ------- Goo looked over at Dana. They hadn't known each other for much more than a week, but she felt that she had known the petite redhead for years. And now she worried. Grimes had explained to her once what partners meant in police work. What it meant to have somebody at your back that you trusted with your life. A trust that you might not extend to your spouse. And what it meant to have that person taken away from you. The loneliness, the feeling of loss. And she had seen the depth of the partnership between Dana and Mulder. She had seen how they worked as a single entity at times. They might not be lovers, but they were everything else that two people can be to each other. "How are you holding together," Goo asked. Scully took another sip of her tea before answering. "Ok, I guess." She looked up at Goo and her lips went up in a melancholy smile. "There's a lot of stress. But the FBI is doing it's damndest to find Mulder. I have hope. There have been times I haven't had this much to hold onto." Goo nodded. She sat still for a second collecting her thoughts before her next question, "Do you love Mulder?" Scully's eyes went wide at the question before she very carefully put the cup and saucer on the coffee table. And then doubled up in laughter. "Well, the way the two of you carried on, one moment all caring, worried about the other, the next, threatening the other with bodily harm. It makes me think of my parents." Scully's laughter had died down to giggles. She took a gulp of air before answering. "Thinking of it from that point of view, yes, I love the man. He can be very considerate and kind. He has often been very supportive of me, a woman in a men's club. I trust him with my life and my honor. But I wouldn't sleep with him. Nor would I consider marriage. We know each other's warts too well. And he can be the biggest pain in the ass you would ever find. If he focuses in on something, get out of his way, he'll run you over. He's done it to me enough." "And his feelings?" "I like to think that they are the same. He has been hurt by too many people too many times to easily trust people. So he tries to keep them at arm's length and not let them know his true feelings. So I really don't know what his true feelings are. "And there is the question about our work. We are the X-Files section. We get assigned the FBI cases that nobody else wants to look at. The weird ones, the ones that look like it might be Bigfoot or a werewolf. The ones that are often real risky. We are not good life insurance risks." The last caught Goo's attention. "I thought FBI agents were mostly auditors with guns." Scully sighed. She didn't want to get into this, didn't want to remove any of the innocence that this Blue Ridge Martha Stewart had left. But she had asked. She tucked her legs up underneath her before continuing, "The TV show 'Law & Order' does it right most of the time in the first half of the show, talk to person after person, dig through mounds of paper, then put the facts together. My job includes doing forensic autopsies as assigned. But the X-Files are outside that norm. All too often the crime we get called in on is bizarre to start with, then it just gets weird. One case was a twist on the alligator in the sewers of New York City urban folk tale we have all been told. But this time it was a fluke the size of a man. Luckily that time we got some evidence, he got caught in a closing water valve. We got half of him. We've run into The Jersey Devil, VooDoo, a maybe werewolf, a demonic ghost, even subliminial murderous messages. "But other times." She paused, studied her cup of tea as if divining what to say from the tea leaves at the bottom, but her mind was elsewhere. , then continued, voice slightly dreamy, as if she was not totally aware of the world around her. "We get assigned cases, or to be precise, Mulder assigns us cases, that step on somebody's toes and somebody tries to step on us, or destroys evidence. I remember the first case I worked with him on. We got too close to a truth that somebody didn't want out. They burned down the motel we were staying at to destroy the evidence we had collected." Her voice firmed as her attention returned to this mortal plane. "There is a real chance that we will piss off somebody bad enough that Mulder's friends in high places will not be able to save our asses and they will step on us like you would step on a cockroach in the kitchen. And then if our families are lucky, they will find our bodies to bury them. Mulder's gotten too close and nearly killed because of it several times." Scully would not get into what might happen if THEY decided that the two of them would be of more value as live experimental subjects then as dead bodies. She didn't even discuss that possibility with Mulder. "You said once that you had been abducted once. Was that because you pissed somebody off?" "No, Mulder and I have never been able to get any good hard evidence what happened after I disappeared. I turned up 3 months later in a coma. No long term damage that we are aware of, but the FBI is having a full physical exam every 3 months to make sure." Goo thought. "Sounds scary. How do you do it day after day," she asked. "Yeah, it's scary. But if Mulder and I don't keep going, the bad guys win," Scully quietly responded, head downturned. She lifted up her face to Goo, sadness in her eyes, "It's as simple as that." The grandfather clock in the hall interrupted their conversation, chiming midnight. "God, it's late, I'd better get to bed." Goo nodded to her guest, as relieved as Scully was that the revelations were over. She was intrigued by much of what Scully had described, but also horrified by just as much. She had grown up in a house with a fairly benign ghost. There were stories of strange happenings all through The Blue Ridge. Some good, some bad. In the past, except for Uncle Harry, they had been stories told around Girl Scout campfires or slumber parties. But now there was some doubt. Section 18 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 18 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- 5:00AM Wednesday, The Ides of March (15th) Goo's room, Brick House Jail Break ---------- The ringing of the phone woke Goo from a troubled sleep. She had nightmares most of the night. The phone call was a not unwelcome distraction. "Goo," Grimes' voice came over the wire. "There's been a jail break." Goo thought. "Anybody hurt," she asked. "Thank God, no," Grimes answered. Goo could hear the weariness in his voice as she looked over at the red glowing numbers on the clock-radio. It was five o'clock. "I'm driving Skinner out so we can go over the Scully's maps with you and her. We'll be there at six. We're expanding the search. I'm calling the Sheriff's offices across the state line. Skinner wants to take a sweep through the area this morning." "We'll be ready," Goo answered and hung up the phone before pulling on a robe and knocking on Dana's door. 10:00AM Wednesday, 15 March County Road 42 A dog's nose ------------ The weather had improved since Monday. It had warmed, the ice was melting, it actually looked like it might be a pleasant day for a ride in the country. If you weren't looking for a missing partner. The news of Ander's jail break had hit Scully hard. It was very bad news for the search for Mulder. With Ander's free, her accomplices didn't need the FBI agent as a hostage. Most of the morning had been a daze for Scully. She remembered Goo placing something in front of her for breakfast, couldn't remember what it was. One sharp memory was the two walking across the yard to the carriage house. Goo was dressed much the same way she had been when they had hit the road looking for bodies, jeans and a leather jacket. But with a difference. A shoulder holster with a 9mm Luger and a M1 carbine was part of this morning's ensemble. What chilled Scully the most was not that Goo was going to war armed, but that Goo had accepted it without question. A fourth was with them then they hit the road. Goo's insistence that Angus was skilled as a tracking dog had quieted Skinner's initial opposition. And now they driving down a dirt road between a grove and a forest. They hadn't seen much, but then neither had other search teams through the area. Scully returned to the world around her when she felt the Hummer pull off to the side of the road. "Scully, I don't remember seeing this road to our left on the maps," Goo said. Scully went through the maps as well as she could, but the back seat of the Hummer was not spacious. "I need more space then I've got here to go through the maps," she told the front seat. They all got out, Angus bounding into the forest. The humans used the hood of the Hummer as a worktable. The road was not on the maps. "Must be new," Goo said, pencilling in the change. Skinner and Goo were still discussing the maps when Angus came out of the forest. He walked up to Scully and sat down in front of her. When Scully looked down at him, he got back up and walked six feet towards the forest, he looked back and gave a little whimper. When she didn't follow immediately, he walked back and tried to nudge her to get her moving. "Something you want to show me boy," she asked the Rottie. Angus stood still for a moment, brow wrinkled as if in thought. Then he opened his mouth in what could called a grin. There was enough ivory showing to make a Hollywood starlet proud, that is once you got past the sharp points on the canines. Angus came back to Scully and carefully captured the cuff of her jacket between his teeth. And started to pull her towards the forest. She followed. And soon found herself going down a path, one that looked like it had seen some use recently. The mine entrance they found at the end of the trail had nothing to recommend it. Gray weatherbeaten wood, the painted name of the mine long since washed away. But missing the green paint 'X' that marked the mine for having been inspected. "This is it Angus? You want me to check inside?" Angus led her in. She turned on her flashlight and followed the dog. The shaft went in about 10 feet and then turned to the right, then the floor dropped 15 feet. And at the bottom was the pale body of one Fox William Mulder. Scully thought it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. And it was breathing. "Mulder," she called out. "Scully, that you," the normally rich husky voice weakened and barely understandable. "It's me Mulder. We'll get you out quickly." "Knew you would find me." "I'm going to get some help. I'll be right back, Mulder." "I'm not going anywhere," an attempt at humor in his voice. Scully walked out of the mine into the daylight. The sun had broken through the cloudcover. It was going to be a good day. She pulled out her walkie-talkie. "Scully to Skinner." "Skinner here. Where are you Scully," came the tinny words. "By the entrance to a mine. I've found Mulder, sir. And he is alive." "Scully, please repeat." "I have found Mulder. He is alive." "Thank God," were the faint words that came from the speaker. Scully started for the Hummer. By the time she got there, Skinner had called for the medical evacuation helicopter to fly out to pick up Mulder, estimated time of arrival 20 minutes. And with rope in hand, and Goo and Skinner bracing it, Scully was lowered to where Mulder was laying. He looked weak but not in too bad a shape. She took off her jacket and draped it over him. "I knew you would find me," he whispered. She gently squeezed his hand before answering, "Shush, Mulder. You need to conserve your strength." She continued to check him over. "I'm thirsty." "Mulder, you may have some internal injuries. I don't want to give you anything by mouth until I am certain there are no internal injuries." "Spoil sport." After a few minutes, he added, "I tried not to get hurt this case. This wasn't my idea, Scully." A noise above alerted Scully that the evacuation team had arrived. "I know, Mulder. The med-evac team is here. They'll have you at the hospital soon." The med-evac team had Mulder in a stretcher and in the air in minutes. Scully tried to fly in with Mulder, but the EMT told her there would be no space for her on the copter. she thought, watching it fly away. The explosion of two discharges from a large bore shotgun split the morning air. The three took off running. Not for the first time Scully cursed her short legs. Skinner was just as tall as Mulder, and the ten years he had on the field agent did not make it any easier for Scully to keep up with him. And Goo, she's younger then Scully and taller, the math is obvious. So Scully did as she always did, run very, very fast. Skinner signaled them to stop and the women ducked behind trees, everybody pulling their guns. They could hear voices, loud angry voices, one, being Anders screaming that all they wanted was the truck. Scully knew what Skinner was up to, letting the years of Marine Corps and FBI training help him plan an attack. A third blast, and he signaled the attack. They all rushed in. Then stopped. The tableau presented them shocked them to no end. Anders was laying face down on the ground cursing a blue streak. Beside her was an unknown woman, sounding like a pissed off Swedish Chef from the Muppets. The third was an unknown man, lying there quietly. Uncle Freddy stood guard, pump shotgun at ready, and the three spent shotgun shells at his feet indicated who had been disturbing the peace. "Goo," he said without as much as turning his head, "didn't I learn you better how to run in the woods. You made as much noise as the bear that's running with you." Skinner started and Scully had to suppress a smile. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, the appropriate term 'Bear' to describe Skinner was one that she had never thought of. "And Good Morning, Agent Scully. White Linen perfume becomes you," Freddy continued. Now it was Skinner's turn to smile at her coloring. Then his visage got stern, "FBI, please put down your weapon." He thumbed the safety on the pump 12-gauge and set it down on the hood of the truck he was standing beside, then took a step away from it. "They are all yours, Agent. I am Frederick Fitzpatrick." Scully stepped in, "Sir, he is the North Carolina Superior Court Judge for Goff and the surrounding 5 counties." Skinner knew that he had better be careful here. He had been right having an unknown man disarm himself, but you handle a Superior Court Judge with kid gloves. "Sir, I am Walter Skinner, Assistant Director of the FBI." "I did not know that assaults against state judges is a federal offence," he asked smiling. "Court is in recess this week and I came out to relax and do a little fishing. They tried to jump me and steal my truck." Freddy turned to watch Goo quietly giggle. "And what is wrong with you, Hyacinthmae," he sternly asked his niece. The giggles started to turn to laughter. Covering her mouth, she explained, "We're off the hook, Uncle Freddy, if they've assaulted you, you can't try them, and I can't prosecute. And with these same people having kidnapped Mulder . . ." The man on the ground half pushed himself up, "I can take you to where he is at. I didn't want to hurt him." That earned him curses from the Swedish Chef and Anders. "I didn't want to hurt him. Magda told me to." Scully walked over staying out of reach, and out of the line of fire. "We found Mulder alive and he is on the way to the hospital." The look of pure joy on Sven's face startled Scully, this is one of his kidnappers and he's happy that he's been found. The chanting of the Maranda creed took but a couple of minutes. The handcuffing a few more. As Scully watched the three being lead away by State Troopers, she suddenly realized a simple fact. Mulder was on his way to the hospital, the perps were in custody. It was over. Section 19 follows. ------------------------------------------------------------ Appalachian Idyll - Part 19 of 19 by Steven M. Wagner wagnersm@mindspring.com Disclaimers and other information included as in part 1. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Friday, 16 March From Smalltown, USA A series by Jerry Riggens My last missive was sadly out of date when you read it. As yesterday's news informed you, Special Agent Fox Mulder had been kidnapped by confederates of Cathy Anders, a murder suspect in custody. But my column was already on the wire and no way to call it back. But as the news also informed you, a FBI taskforce put together by Mulder's partner, Dana Scully and Asst. Director Walter Skinner, rescued Mulder and tracked down and captured Cathy Anders and her confederates. I was there for much of the search but for security reasons was not able to report on it. But now, things will quiet down. Anders is being charged with assaulting a State Judge and other assorted crimes, and the case is being moved from the State Judge's jurisdiction. The State Police guards will be returning to their barracks, the FBI agents back to Washington and their offices. So the media circus will be leaving Aurora quiet once again. What will be the long term effects on Aurora and Goff County? I am not qualified to even guess. I have talked with County Commissioner Peter Lazenby. He assured me that quiet will return and that things will get back to normal. When I talk with County Sheriff Steve Grimes, he smiles and tells me that the Sheriff's Office will be ready. Sunday's conversation with Mrs Isa Rogers, "The Last Confederate Widow," leads me to belief that violence has always been part of the country landscape. That while the hustle and the noise of the city is not there, the crime and violence has always been there. And will always be there. And now, we must leave Aurora and Goff County, North Carolina. The open road is there and we must travel to the next small town. This is Jerry Riggins, signing off from another one of America's Smalltowns. Aurora, North Carolina. 5:00PM Thursday, 16 March Mulder's room Goff County Memorial Hospital Epilogue One ---------- Mulder's room was jammed with flowers. Everybody in the county, and even one of his new-found basketball buddies had sent flowers. And the stack of telegrams and cards threatened to fall over onto the floor. Mulder was now holding court, telling Goo and Scully all about the kidnapping. "I was running when they drove up beside of me and pointed a shotgun out of the window. I couldn't get away.." went through Scully's mind. Unbidden, her hand went up to her forehead to rub at the tension. Her eyes caught Mulder's eyes on her, an unspoken question as how she was doing. Her smile told him that she was doing well enough. A knock on the door frame caught all of their attention. A tallish brunette stuck her head in before asking, "FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder?" At Mulder's nod, she entered. "I am Federal Prosecutor Carrie Lane." Mulder made the introductions and waved Lane to a seat. "I will be handling the case against Magda and Sven Larson. Can you give me a brief synopsis of the kidnapping?" Scully did the lion's share of the interrogations for the partnership. She just had to enjoy watching Mulder being the one on the hot seat. And Prosecutor Lane was going a good job of it, too. Lane looked over her notes for a second and asked a question, "You have advised that incarceration would not be the best route for Sven Larson. Yet this is the man by his own admission, drove the van that was used to kidnap you, broke your leg when told to by Magda Larson, and left you to die. From what Larson and you have told me, we can charge him with accomplice after the fact in several murders of state and federal employees. I would expect to see some hostility from you against Larson. Are we seeing the Stockholm Syndrome here?" Scully stood up straight, her already high estimation of this Prosecutor ratcheting up another notch. Mulder's face got thoughtful. "I do think that one of my Oxford dons mumbled something about that during lecture." He gave Lane one of his best 'shit-eating' grins. "No, this is not the Stockholm Syndrome. I am not identifying with nor sympathizing with my captor. Sven Larson is of below average intelligence. He doesn't understand that the bodies that he helped dispose of were people. He showed me kindness, bringing me sealed packages of food and drink so that I would know that I was not being poisoned. But he could be talked into doing violence and leaving somebody to die. He needs time in a psych facility, not behind bars." Carrie Lane looked from Mulder to her notebook and made a notation. "I'll take your comments under advisement. Now, Agent Mulder, I'll be in touch when you get back to Washington." She bent over to collect her things before leaving, "Goo, thank you for suggesting the Aberdeen, that is a very nice hotel." "Glad you liked it," Goo responded. "You from Kentucky," she asked. Carrie looked up smiling, knowing her accent had given her away. "Yes, I am," she chuckled. "Grew up in Mooroolbark, a little town outside of Canterbury, Kentucky. Went to Victoria College in Oz, then studied law at Kentucky State and Stetson College of Law." Her things in her briefcase, "Now," addressing the room, "You'll have to excuse me. Goo, it has been a pleasure working with you. Agents Scully and Mulder, I'll see you in DeeCee." The door quietly closed as she left. "Mulder, I think this is a good Prosecutor," Scully commented, handing him a glass of water. Mulder's response will never be known, a knock at the door and Char Hall and Kylie Loxton walked in. Before they could say a word, the adults knew what they were. They were both wearing pink and white striped jumpers over white blouses. "We're your candystripers," Kylie said joyfully. "And we are here to bring you drinks, books to read, anything we can do to help you," Char continued, a big grin on her face. Scully hid a smile at this. Mulder could be very gracious around women, but this would be a test for him. "We each have 'Fox Hunt' tickets, Agent Scully," Kylie asked. "Can we make use of them now," was her innocent question. Mulder looked up at Scully, beseeching her to say no. "Kylie, Char. The 'Fox Hunt' ended with the end of the Bazaar." As their faces fell, Scully decided to tweak her partner's nose a bit. "I bet that just before he leaves, he'll kiss you," Scully said with a mischievous grin on her face. "And you know girls, he just loves blue Jello." As Mulder turned and looked daggers at her, the two candy-stripers giggled with glee. As they left, a olive-skinned man invited himself in, "Just what I need. Riggs," Mulder growled. "And a Good Day to you, too," Riggs told Mulder. "And here I am, bringing you something from the photographer on the Gazette." Mulder's eyes popped open wide at that word. And he took the proffered envelop. He nodded his thanks to Riggs as he looked at the enclosed 8-by-10 glossies inside. "I have to be going. The wireservice has assigned a regular correspondent to this droll comedy and I am back on the road," Riggs said. Mulder looked up at that and put out his hand, "Thanks for the photographs, Riggs." They shook. And another knock was heard at the door. Scully thought to herself watching Skinner and Grimes enter the room. At Skinner's glare, Riggs made his exit. After the obligatory questions and responses about Mulder's health, Skinner pulled out a copy of the Goff County Gazette. "Have you seen this," he asked, showing a copy of the paper. The front page headline read "Agent Mulder Rescued." And a picture of Anders, Magda, and Sven battled with a picture of Mulder taken at the Bazaar battled for front page space. "Good pictures of the perps," Goo offered. Skinner nodded and opened the paper to the back page. This raised everybody's eyebrows. One picture was of the Kodak Moment at the bazaar with Scully and Mulder at the FBI Jello mold seal. Scully and Mulder shared an embarrassed glance. "It won first place," Mulder offered, digging himself deeper. Skinner glared. "Agent Mulder," Grimes said. "Michelle would like you to come over some evening once you get out and have dinner with her and the family." Mulder put down the photographs on the ubiquitous rolling cart and paled. "Sheriff Grimes, err, sir . . ." Turning to Skinner, Grimes continued, "And of course. Walter, you are invited, as are you, Goo, Dana. What is the problem, Mulder?" Mulder flopped back in the bed, relieved. "Nothing, Grimes, nothing." "Nice picture, Scully," Skinner picked up the pictures on Mulder's rolling cart. The first one was a color print of the one in the newspaper, of Scully in her antebellum finest. Scully just nodded. The second got Skinner's attention, it was one of Scully in the kissing booth. She was laying one on one of the young men that she sent out searching for Mulder before the Fox Hunt. "I trust that you have an explanation for this, Agent Scully," Skinner. "Sir," she shot Mulder a glare, "I was asked to help at the bazaar and Goo and I got stuck with the kissing booths." "While it is good that an FBI agent takes the time to be helpful to the community when they are off duty. But the Bureau prefers something a little less . . .." he paused, at a loss for words. "Personal," Goo volunteered, earning dirty looks from Scully and Skinner. "Mulder, what are these prints for." Skinner asked eyes boring into the younger agent. "I . . .err . . . wanted some pictures to give Agent Scully's mother," he said innocently. Scully was happy that her picture of Mulder kissing the teenager was safely hidden in Goo's briefcase. Skinner looked at him for a second, Mulder feeling like some sort of bug that wanted to crawl under a rock. "Goo," Skinner said. "Thank you for putting me up at your house. But I must mention something to you. I found, in one of the drawers in the chest of drawers, a rather large selection of men's neckties. Some of them looked suspiciously like Agent Mulder's." Goo's whoop of laughter caught everybody's attention, "Uncle Harry," she stammered out between laughs. Grimes gave a knowing smile, Scully and Mulder looked at each other, Skinner was puzzled. "Did you find anything else, Mr. Skinner", Goo asked. Like Scully's arched eyebrow, Skinner had a trademark motion. His was when he was nervous, he would adjust his eyeglasses. He was adjusting now. "Err, I found some . . .." "Pantyhose," Mulder finished for him, earning him another glare from Skinner. "Yes, some ladies pantyhose," Skinner said. Goo and Scully looked at each other, "That bedroom has not been used since my brother went off to college. And it was Uncle Harry's when he was alive," Goo said. "Do I want to know," Skinner asked the room. "No, sir. It's better that way," Scully assured him, glaring at Mulder to shutup. "And Mulder," he said, turning to the man in the bed. "I've talked with your doctors. They have advised me that it would be best for you to not to travel for about a week. I believe that Washington can spare you and Agent Scully for that long. Now, if you will excuse Grimes and me, we're going out fishing for a couple of days. Goodbye." The two older lawmen left. "Well, that means that I have the two of you as house guests for the week. I'll enjoy that," Goo told the agents. "And you, Mulder, can have my parent's bedroom downstairs. It's got an attached bath and a sunny sitting room that will be nice for you to sit and read in." "Goo, I think that I won't need to bother your parent's room," Mulder said. "Nonsense, Mulder. You can't climb stairs in your condition. Your leg is pinned remember. You'll be in a fiberglass cast for a month. No, a bottom floor bedroom will be best." "Ok," Mulder acquiesced, knowing when he was beat. He looked around for the photographs, wanting to put them where they would be safe from Scully, and they were not there. "Scully, do you see where the photographs are," he asked. "No, I don't," Scully responded. "They were on the rolling table, weren't they, Mulder," Goo asked. "Yes, and . . . Skinner," Mulder said looking up at the women. They all realized that when Skinner picked up his newspaper, he picked up Mulder's blackmail photographs at the same time. Mulder started to chuckle, his plans laid low by fate and his boss. The women joined in. The End