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2020-11-05
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Brittle

Summary:

The X-Files come to Cascade

Work Text:

Brittle
by Twilight

 

Prologue

Present Day, Wednesday, September 22nd
Harbor Health Spa, Cascade, Washington

The proprietor of the spa jogged on her own treadmill. Sweat glistened on her skin. Only it wasn't sweat...slightly slimy and mucus-like, it oozed from her pores, becoming thick, cold, and clammy on her skin.

The club was getting crowded. Businessmen, professionals, housewives, and students from the nearby university...all ordinary people of every shape and size, all exercising, moving between the various machines designed to tone. Most, excluding the newcomers, healthy and physically fit.

As she jogged, she surveyed the club, spotting a large muscular man on the weight machine.

He's certainly large enough.

She eyed the lawyer on a stationary bike.

I wonder if he took my suggestion about taking those vitamin supplements. He's way too thin.

A very tall woman with red hair pulled up into a ponytail entered the gym.

Pretty...big boned...excellent...if only they were all that way. I know I've seen her before. Maybe at the health food store on Wolfe Street.

She dreamed of the possibilities. 'Most of these people are possible candidates.

She lingered on the thought of an accidental touch, a handshake as a way of introduction to the man on the weight machine. The man noticed her stare and quickly give her a wink and a broad smile.

Well he certainly seems interested.

She could take him right here in her own club in front of all these ordinary people.

She could feed.

He would die.

...stupid...indiscreet...drawing to much attention to yourself and the club. Her father's angry chastisement rang in her ears. Her father had taught her better than that; she would never disobey him. She loved him too much, too deeply.

As she continued her jog, she thought of the festivities of the coming evening, her father's birthday celebration.

His five-hundredth; a milestone.

They would dine tonight privately, in secret as they always do, tonight with two specially invited guests.

With her jogging finished, she stepped off the treadmill and headed to the private shower in her office. She remembered the day, decades ago; when her father told her that her mother was one of the ordinary people. Just like one of those that attend her club.

Possibly even like the tall women with the red hair.

Her father actually loved this person all those centuries ago.

Loved her! She couldn't believe it then. She copes with it now.

She and her father don't always agree on everything. He had always stated that ordinary people were a necessary evil for them...a means of survival, but more than that, and not so different from themselves.

Living, breathing, human beings just like ourselves that should be treated with kindness, and respect, and mercy. We do have to live among them. She heard her father's voice in her mind again as she had heard it continuously for over two centuries.

"Yes Father, you are right, but we must also feed among them," she said in an inaudible whisper. He just didn't enjoy the hunt anymore. In fact, she didn't know if he ever did.

She sees ordinary people as a necessity too...but a pleasurable one. Living beings...true, she thought, </i>but they should be enjoyed.</i>

Although she and her father may not agree on the ordinary people, there is one thing that she understood for certain in spite of her father's opinion. She had surmised that after all, they are just...food.

As she showered, the slime washed from her skin and hair congealing into small lumps on the shower floor. She directed them down the drain with her foot.

After tonight...I won't be hungry.

******

Friday, April 24th, 1984

Cascade Race Track Parking Garage.

Cascade, Washington.

"What do we have?" Detective Simon Banks asked.

A uniformed officer responded, "A garage attendant reported this car left overnight. We observed a small blood stain on the seat and popped the trunk. From what we can make out, it's a man. Looks like the perp tried to get rid of the body with some kind of chemical. Just this one mark on what's left of him. Looks like some kinda burn mark. We're running down the plates now and the ME is on his way."

******

Present Day, Friday Evening, September 24th
Pink Hippo Lounge, Cascade City

The woman sitting at the old worn bar looked a bit desperate, eyes constantly roaming the bar patrons and dance floor.

Rebecca had spied her entering a few hours ago, but no one had offered to buy her a drink. Now her chubby body moved in time as she swayed to the music blaring from the overhead speakers, toying with her brandy glass, spinning it round and around on the bar top.

Rebecca smiled, sitting in a corner booth, considering the possibilities. The dance floor was crowded; a flurry of bodies gyrated and danced to the techno beat of the music, but the bar was dark except for the pulsing strobe light directed at the dance floor.

Rebecca looked again to the woman from across the crowded bar, her bleached blonde hair was short, dark roots crowned the top of her head. Her face seemed older, her large nose out of place on the feminine face; neglect and smoking combined with heavy make-up had aged her...

And then Rebecca laughed, realizing that the she was really a he. She got up and waded through the dance floor, bumping into the dancers as she made her way to the stool next to the woman. "Hi."

The blond gave Rebecca a quick glance as if she wasn't sure that the red headed stranger was talking to her.

"Umm...Hi."

"Want another one?" Rebecca tilted her head slightly indicating the almost empty glass.

A brief hesitation and then, "Sure, thanks."

Rebecca tapped the bar, signaling the bartender to refill her new companion's glass. They both watched as the amber liquid was poured over melting ice.

"I'm Tania."

"Rebecca." As she spoke a tall man joined them, standing between the two.

"Hey there, babe." He smiled and reached down to give Rebecca a slow kiss.

"I'm Lee." He told the man/woman on the other bar stool. He was in his early thirties, slim and tan. His dark hair was pulled tight into a rubber band at the base of his neck and his checkered shirt was slightly open, revealing a smooth chest and tiny tattoo.

Rebecca smiled as her new friend eyed her boyfriend and in a soft seductive voice asked, "Like what you see?" She lifted her wine glass, sipping on the light fruity blend, hoping she didn't seem too eager.

After all this was a hunt.

The prey had to be lured, not captured and dragged against its will.

A small nod and then Tania said, "What do you think of this place?" She swirled her straw through her drink, picking up a handful of nuts with surprisingly small hands.

Rebecca leaned toward her and asked, "How do you like it here?"

The woman flashed a small, shy smile. "I like it fine but how about we go somewhere more quiet where we can talk and get to know each other?" As she spoke, the man ran a hand down and over Tania’s shoulder, resting it on her lower back.

"Hmm...and where would that be?" He asked playfully, leaning into Tania's personal space.

Although the game was rapidly losing its appeal, Rebecca appreciated a good hunt. It was too easy, but she continued to play because soon her hunger would overwhelm her.

The blonde leaned closer to her boyfriend, their lips almost touching. "We can talk at my place."

"I have a better idea." Rebecca stood. "Let’s go back to our place; it's nearby."

As the bartender announced the last call, Tania looked from Rebecca to her boyfriend, seemingly thinking over the offer. "Okay, your place it is."

*****

Monday Morning, September 27th.

The blue and white pickup bumped along the narrow street outside the university. Jim drove in silence, allowing his roommate to finish up on a few notes for an upcoming class.

Blair had been busy over the weekend, grading papers and working on one of his own that needed to be tuned in today. On top of all of his other work, he had agreed to take a lecture for a friend who had called in sick.

"You almost done, Chief?"

"Umm?" His friend looked up from his notebook; glasses perched on the end of his noses. Today he had his hair tied back, giving him a more scholarly look.

Jim turned into the parking lot, waiting patiently as a car in front of him moved slowly, looking for a spot to park. "I said...are you almost done?"

Blair shifted, still chewing on the end of his pen. "Oh yeah, man. I'll be ready."

Once in front of the building, Jim watched as his friend stuffed his notebook and a few other stray sheets of paper into his backpack. "Thanks again, Jim." He said, sliding out of the cab.

"It's okay." He waited until Blair had all his things, slinging the pack over his shoulder. "I'll pick you up around lunch time."

He watched as Blair made his way to the steps in front of his building, stopping every few paces to talk to someone else. Jim had to wonder if Blair knew every person on campus by name.

Once his partner was safely in the building he pulled out, ignoring the honking from behind him. He made a mental note to call the garage this morning. The new tires had been scheduled for today, but he wanted to be sure Blair's car would be done by the time they got off later in the day.

The ride into the station had been slow going, the city traffic bumper to bumper until he reached the interstate.

Once he reached his desk, he grabbed up the Booker file. A few minutes later a loud bleeping noise interrupted his reading. After marking his spot and setting aside the report, he picked up the phone, "Ellison." He listened to the dispatcher and scribbled down a street name and address. "Okay," he sighed, "I'm on my way."

Jim rose from his desk and looked around the empty squad room.

Henri Brown breezed in and sat at his desk, a coffee in one hand and a danish in the other. Sensing that someone was looking at him, he turned and smiled at Jim. "What's up, Babe?"

"There's a body on 8th. Want to ride along?" Jim grabbed his jacket, sliding an arm into one sleeve.

Casting a quick look at his pastry he shrugged, "sure, but where's your sidekick?"

"He's got a few classes this morning." Jim paused, allowing Henri to put on his coat and shove his danish in his mouth.

"I see…second choice." Brown complained, picking up his coffee before following Jim to the elevator.

Jim just smirked and stepped onto the waiting car.

******

Jim directed the old pickup toward Cascade's famous red light district.

Brown jerked in his seat, sloshing some coffee over his hand as Jim made a sharp turn into the back alley of 8th and Madison. They both exited the truck and made their way through a small crowd of on-lookers to the crime scene.

Ducking under the yellow and black police tape, Jim took in the surroundings, the buildings and people milling about. But nothing unusually presented itself.

The alley was narrow and cold. The ground was wet and smelt of trash and urine.

A medical examiner was looking over the body and taking notes.

Jim approached the officers on scene and asked, "what do we got?"

A short balding man in blue answered, "the owner of the Circus Show Bar found the body. The Vic had a wallet in a purse." The man shrugged and continued "Driver license says his name is Tony Miller. That's all we know."

Thanking the man, Jim shifted his attention from the officer to the victim's partially clad form, feminine clothing covering a masculine body. His blue eyes were open and he looked to be in his late thirties. There were some bruising and abrasions on his face and
wrists and his body was damp from the early morning dew. Some makeup streaked down his face.

Approaching the tech he asked, "What do we have?"

The ME stood over the body with a specimen vial. "The victim is male. Given the rigor and decomp, I'd say he's been dead for a couple of days. No outward signs of the cause of death. Can I roll him?" The tech waited patiently for Jim to finish writing notes in his pad.

Nodding the ME and his assistant rolled the victim over, kneeling down carefully to examine the head and torso for any apparent wounds, or for any bloodstains on the remaining clothing. "No apparent wounds or cause of death here either."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks." Jim jotted down a few more observation notes and turns to Henri. "You want start with the crowd?"

******

Later that day
Major Crimes Department

Captain Simon Banks stepped from his office, calling for Jim.

Jim stood and made his way to the door, waiting for his boss to invite him in.

"Come on in, Jim. Tell me what you have on the Miller case." Simon pushed back a file he was reading, folding his hands on top of his desk.

Jim sank into the chair in front of Simon's desk, "Not much, Sir. He doesn't have any family. We searched his house and talked to all the neighbors. Everyone said he was a nice enough guy. A little strange, but other wise... One neighbor said he liked to go to the
clubs on 8th Street. Brown is working the clubs, showing his picture around to see if anyone has seen him. I'm going to pick up Blair on my way to Miller's employer and then we'll stop by the morgue and see if they have anything for me."

"Good." Simon turned and poured a mug of coffee. "That's a good start. Just keep me informed. It seems that the commissioner is interested in this one. That's the tenth body found around the district in the last two years."

Jim stood, "Very good, sir."

"Jim?" Simon's secretary stuck her head into the office. "A Victoria Moorer with the ME's office is on the phone. She's calling for Dr.Wolfe. He wants you down there right away. She says he's found something strange."

"Yeah, okay, thanks Rhonda." Jim cast a quick look at Simon and then made for the elevator.

*****

Jim rode the empty elevator to the basement and walked along the quiet corridor. He passed a few people that worked in the lab, wondering what Dan wanted to see him for. The medical examiner was fairly new, but Jim liked his no nonsense approach to his job.

Considering the older man had been in the business of dissecting bodies, Jim knew that hardly anything bothered the coroner.

He stepped into the outer lab area and up to the security door, waiting to be buzzed back to the morgue.

Dan met him half way. "Thanks for coming, Jim."

"No, problem Dan. What have you got for me?" Jim moved along with the medical examiner to the autopsy table. The victim lie under a white cloth, blood spattered the clean sheet around the chest area.

He waited as Dan pulled the sheet back to expose the head and upper torso.

"Tony Miller," the coroner said. "Cause of death still undetermined. He has deep ligature marks on his wrists and it appears that he was sexually assaulted. I'm waiting for the swab results to see if there is any semen."

Jim nodded, watching as the older man pulled the sheet back farther.

"I also found an unusual burn. It's almost shaped like a hand." Dan pointed to the victim's left side. What appeared to be a handprint was burned deep into the skin, it was deep red in color and small blisters dotted the surface. "It's a third degree burn, caused by some type of instrument."

"A brand, maybe." Jim ventured, still studying the burn.

"Hmm." Dan moved away and pulled out a funny looking device, slipping goggles over his head that seemed to magnify his brown eyes, studying the wound. "But there is something else weird." He took off his magnifier and handed them to Jim. "If you look closely at the mark, you'll see that there are tiny holes in the skin and there was some kind of slimy residue. I've sent it to be tested."

Jim put the goggles up to eyes, although he had already seen what Dan was referring to. "What caused it?"

"I don't know. Note how the entire surface of the mark is completely intact and seems to be applied with equal pressure around the victim's ribcage." The older man circled his finger in the area and Jim saw how the mark wrapped around the man's stomach.

He stepped back as the coroner covered up the cadaver.

"There is one more unusual thing." Dan told him. "Some of his bones...they have decayed; there was no fluid in them. They were so dry and brittle that when I touched them, they crumbled." The medical examiner picked up a vial of gray colored dust.

"What could cause that?" Jim asked, taking the vial and holding it up to sensitive eyes.

Shaking his head Dan said, "I looked through our database for causes and like cases. I thought that maybe it was some kind of infection or sickness. I didn't find anything, but maybe you could run it through the FBI data base."

******

When Jim returned to the bullpen he found Brown and Rafe waiting for him.

"Hey, man." Brown jumped up from his perch on Jim's desk. "I found a witness. The owner of the Pink Hippo was working the bar this weekend. She saw the victim leave with a couple...but doesn't know if that was Friday or Saturday night."

"Good," Jim sat and entered his password quickly into his computer, waiting for the right page to display. "Did you bring her in?"

"Oh yeah, she's with the composite artist now. She already looked through some mug shots, but nothing there." Brown motioned for his partner. "We're heading out for lunch. You want to come with?"

Jim glanced at his watch. "Thanks, but I can't. I got to pick up Blair in a little bit."

"Suit yourself." Rafe smiled, pulling on his coat. "Later."

"Later." Jim mumbled as the two headed for the hall.

"Hey, Jim?" Simon moved across the bullpen. "What did Dan have to say?"

Jim sat up a little, shifting some papers around on his desk. "He said he didn't know how Miller died and that something strange happened to his bones. There's also some type of funny brand mark on the victim's left side. I'm running a check through the federal database to see if anything pops up."

"Good, keep me informed." Simon started to walk away. "After you see the employer take Sandburg and canvas the clubs and neighborhood again. See if anyone recognizes the composites."

"Very good, sir." The computer beeped and Jim typed in the data before logging off. Hopefully he would get a response by the time he and Sandburg got back from lunch.

******

Blair was waiting near the fountain when his partner pulled up and beeped. He turned to his friend Shelia. "See you tomorrow."

Crossing the grassy area in front of his building he climbed into the truck.

"Hey, Chief." His friend waited until he was belted in before pulling out. "How about we go to Nero's for lunch."

Already shaking his head Blair said. "Oh...well how about we go to Kate's? I'm really in the mood for one of those strawberry smoothies...and I can pick up some things at the health store on the corner."

"Yeah, okay. But I'm not eating anything with soy in it." Jim smirked at him, taking the next right to head into downtown and the trendy neighborhood where Kate's was located.

"Come on, man. It's good for you."

Blair laughed as Jim shook his head. The small café wasn't crowded, so they choose a table near the large window that overlooked the harbor.

A waitress took and delivered their lunch quickly and they made small talk as they ate. Jim told him about his newest case and Blair was intrigued about the mystery that had killed the man. It could be an illness or some toxin...

When they had finished, Blair paid the bill. Kate's not only had excellent food, but also fit into his budget.

"I'm going to head over to Wallace's and see if they have that book I've been looking for." Jim told him.

"That's cool. I'll only be a few minutes." They parted at the corner.

Natures Choice was a little more crowded. People came from all over the city to shop. They had a large selection of alternative foods and health supplements.

He grabbed a hand basket and picked out a few dry goods. The produce was next on his list and he picked out the fixings for a fresh salad for dinner.

Remembering that Jim was almost out of his daily vitamin, he walked to the back of the store and picked up a bottle, reading its contents as he rounded the corner. A woman in yellow jogging pants ran right into him, dropping her basket.

"I'm so sorry." He quickly knelt, scooping up her groceries and dumping them back into her basket.

"Me too," she said, helping with the mess. He held her arm as they stood together. She had stunning red hair and Blair couldn't help but to notice her fair, creamy skin and delicate freckled complexion.

"So umm..." He saw how her eyes swept his body.

"Well, thank you." She held out her hand and he looked at it for a second before realizing she wanted her basket back.

"I see you have a lot of supplements."

Lame.

"Hmm....yes. I offer them to my customers. I own a health club right down the street." She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a card. "Come in sometime. I'll give you a trial membership."

"Oh, hey thanks..." Blair took the card and pocketed it. Her hand lingered on his before she turned to leave. Swallowing a few times he murmured, "Maybe I'll see you around."

*****

Tuesday Afternoon, September 28th
Cascade Major Crimes Unit

Simon sat at his desk, reading over a finished report from a case Rafe and Brown had wrapped up. The phone rang and Rhonda stuck her head in to tell him he had a phone call from an Assistant Director.

"Thanks, Rhonda." He punched the blinking line. "Bank's."

"Captain Bank's" The voice on the other end of the line was smooth, soft spoken. "This is FBI Assistant Director Walter Skinner. I'm calling in regard to a request made via the Federal Database. I'm sending two of my agents to coordinate the Miller investigation."

"What." He shouted, lifting his hand to rub at the bridge of his nose.

"Sir, I would appreciate your full cooperation as the FBI has complete jurisdiction in this investigation. Thanks you." And then the line went dead.

"Okay, Ellison." Simon pushed back from his desk. "What have you walked into this time?"

******

Early Tuesday Evening, September 28th
FBI Headquarters, Washington DC

Special Agent Dana Scully watched as her partner's chin drooped again. She and Mulder were attending another meeting about the Bureau objectives for the coming month.

She had no idea why Skinner wanted them to attend those meetings because the only expectation the Bureau had about the X-Files was that...well, they had no expectation.

"In conclusion, gentlemen and lady," Special Agent Harvey Whitey nodded at Scully, who was the only female agent at the meeting, "this is what the Federal Bureau of
Investigation is expecting from its representatives. Any comments, questions?"

"Hell no," Mulder said under his breath as the meeting's participants shook their heads.

"Thank you everyone and I'll see you all next month," Whitey said.

"Hell no...we won't go," he whispered, getting a small smile from Scully.

"What was that Agent Mulder? Do you have something to add?" Skinner asked for the head of the table.

"Hell n...I mean...no...no sir, nothing to add."

Scully stood quickly, turning from her boss and partner.

The group filed out of the meeting room and Mulder walked next to her as they made their way down the short hall. "Ol' Nytol still has the touch," her partner said as they reached the elevator.

"Mulder! Don't call him that."

"Why not? Everyone calls me Spooky!" Mulder pressed the down button one more time.

"Yes," She said. "But you don't like it, so why are you doing it to Whitey?"

"Infantile behavior, a cheap way to get revenge, a desire to... the reasons are infinite Scully."

She shot a side-glance at his wild gestures, noting a folder sticking out from under his arm. "What's that Mulder?"

"What?"

"The folder under your arm."

"Oh, that. I'm glad you asked. Actually...it's for you."

"Me? What is it?"

The elevator doors opened and the agents stepped back in heading for the rear of the car.

"It's a medical oddity from Cascade."

"How odd?" she asked. She knew from experience that whatever Mulder was involved in was bound to involve some far out alien activity, conspiracy theory, or some mutant life form. She wasn't disappointed.

"The Cascade Police Department has requested information about a killing involving the drying of the victim's bones and a hand shaped branding."

Scully's lifted a brow, waiting for the rest of the story.

Her partner flipped open the folder, handing her the summary of the autopsy report. "The body found looked perfectly normal on the outside," he said, pointing to a section of the report. "But when the ME cut it open and touched the bones they turned into a pile of ashes, as did the teeth."

"Ashes?" She shook her head. "That's impossible Mulder."

"Well, not in Cascade."

The elevator doors opened on the first floor. Everyone but Mulder and Scully exited. With the doors closed again, the elevator resumed its descent to the basement.

Once inside their small, cramped office, Scully said, "I have to talk to this Dr. Wolfe."

A huge smile lit up Mulder's normally somber face. "Good the car's all gassed up and I took the liberty of throwing our suitcases into the trunk...Ready for a road trip Scully? Oh yeah...I'll fill you in on the related X-Files on the drive to the airport."

Scully turned to leave the office again, "Knowing you Mulder I should have realized that your enthusiasm involved more than an interesting autopsy report."

******

Tuesday Evening, September 28th
Vincent's Restaurant, Inner Harbor, Cascade

Charles Moorehouse walked through his bustling, crowded restaurant at early evening. He had owned and operated this restaurant for over twenty years. It was lighthouse shaped and provided patrons with an excellent view of the Cascade Harbor sights. The decor was of brass and wooden fixtures showcased by a nautical theme. The crimson tablecloths were accented with silver cutlery and crystal stemware.

He pushed his way through the swinging door into the kitchen to check on the dinner preparations. The executive chef looked at his approaching boss and straightened his tie. The man coming his way was the epitome of elegance. He was well dressed in a dark Armani suit sporting a traditional red carnation in his lapel. His salt and pepper hair was perfectly trimmed and styled.

An eager chef's assistant offered him a taste of the stewing crab bisque, but he politely refused and motioned for the headwaiter and the pastry chef to join him to discuss the evening's desert offerings.

The executive chef told the assistant, "don't be too disappointed he never samples the food. As a matter of fact, I've never even seen him dine here."

With everything in order in the kitchen, Moorehouse made his way to his private office where his daughter was waiting.

The space was large and plush with a dark mahogany desk and an expensive hi-back Italian leather chair, behind the desk hung an original artist's rendering of the Cascade skyline.

His daughter waited patiently seated on the black leather sofa. She idly watched the exotic tropical fish in the large wall encased aquarium.

As he entered she rose to meet him. He looked down at her sternly and angrily said, "I've taught you better than this. What were you thinking! How could you be so careless!"

"I'm sorry Daddy. I was interrupted before I could dispose of the carcass properly. I had no choice but to leave the body in the alley. Don't be angry. It won't happen again."

With a sigh he said, "I just can't seem to stay angry at you anyway. I love you darling. You know I want what's best for you, but I must stress that you must be more careful.
If you are discovered, it could be devastating for all of us."

"Yes Daddy, she said, her eyes downcast to the floor. “I won't disappoint you again."

He put his left arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Rebecca, perhaps you should reconsider your methods, search elsewhere, be more particular. If you would select healthier individuals you won't need to feed as often. Perhaps you should also reconsider the company you keep." He hugged her gently, "Don't pout."

"Yes, Daddy. You're right, and I don't want to raise any suspicions."

******

Wednesday Morning, September 29th
Cascade Major Crimes Unit

Jim sat his coffee down and hung his coat, Blair was coming from the break room with a muffin in his hand.

"Ellison, Sandburg. My office." Bank's booming voice echoed through the squad room.

Rafe glanced up from his desk and said with a chuckle, "what you two do now?"

Blair shrugged and followed Jim into the captain's office.

As they entered, two people wearing expensive dark suits stood to meet them.

Jim looked the two strangers over while Simon made the introductions. The woman was pretty, petite with red hair. The man was much taller, dark hair and a boyish grin.

Simon gestured toward the two agents from behind his desk. "Ellison, Sandburg, this is Special Agent Fox Mulder and his partner Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI. They are here to coordinate the Miller investigation."

"Simon, we don't need any help," Ellison said, but stopped his protest at his boss' raised hand.

"Our friends at the FBI have related cases with similar evidence. Now I expect you both to play nice with our esteemed guests." Simon went back to whatever he was doing, dismissing all of them.

"Yes sir," Jim muttered, giving Mulder the once over.

"Why don't you show us what you have so far and we can go from there?" Mulder gestured toward Scully and said, "my partner is a medical doctor and would like to go over the autopsy findings with your ME."

"I would be happy to escort Agent Scully to the ME's office." Blair whisked her away by the elbow, and Jim stalked back to his desk with Mulder in tow.

"So, how about filling me in on your similar cases?" Jim plopped into his seat and nodded to the empty adjacent chair.

Mulder sat, flipped open his brief case, and pulled out his related X-Files. "In 1964, a cow's carcass was found in rural Wyoming that displayed what appeared to be a hand
shaped imprint or branding burned into the hide. The veterinarian involved reported that the cow's bone structure was abnormally soft."

"A cow?" Jim couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"Yes. Also in 1951 a man reported being attacked by a young woman who approached him in a bar. Subsequently, he escaped his attacker and upon examination a partial
hand shaped burn was visible on his back. He had no recollection how it got there. The victim became violently ill and later died. The autopsy findings showed structural
weaknesses in both bones and teeth."

"That's interesting," Jim said sarcastically.

Why was this quack telling him about a case from 1951?

"But we're looking for a young woman and possibly a man based on composite sketches that were provided by witnesses." Jim reached into his folder and retrieved the artist's sketches. "The woman was seen leaving a bar with the victim and the man has been seen with the woman. Right now, both are considered suspects."

Mulder pulled the composite sketch from the 1951 case and sat it in front of Jim and asked, "does your suspect have red hair?"

"Yeah, how did you know that?" Jim looked down at his desk at Mulder's composite.

"Well, the suspect from 1951 had red hair also, and by looking at these two composites...I'd say that the similarities are unmistakable."

******

Blair jabbered nonstop on the elevator ride down to the morgue. The woman sharing the car was listening politely, but Blair didn't notice the occasional raised brow.

"So what is an Anthropologist doing in a police station?" She asked and he was off again, reciting the well rehearsed thin blue line story. Soon they reach the bottom floor and Blair exited ahead, turning right to the autopsy room.

"Dan Wolfe should be in here." He said, pushing the buzzer by the door.

The two doctor's talk briefly and Blair follows along, only half listening to the medical speak.

"...the hand shaped print. What was the result of the skin and tissue analysis?" The Agent asked.

Dan looked up from a report that was spread across his work surface. "We found something very interesting in the slimy substance that was found on and around the burn mark. It was found to have human sweat properties such as oil, bacteria, and pheromones. Under the electron microscope I determined that the sample contains thousands of dead parasitic organisms."

She looked down at the sample through the microscope.

"The organisms actually possess some type of sharp piercing appendage on their heads." The coroner concluded.

"They could explain the small holes found inside the mark." She said, looking up from the sample.

"I've never seen anything like this." Dan told her. "I've sent a sample to the Microbiology Lab at the University to see if they can ID the organisms. I doubt they'll have much luck."

"Cause of death?" she asked.

"All signs point to the bone deterioration as the cause of death. Frankly, I don't have a sound theory."

Scully asked, "Is there any evidence of any substance or chemical being applied to the bones which could have caused the deterioration?"

"No, no, not at all, but it's interesting that the teeth are affected as well," Dan replied.

"Dr. Wolfe, what do bones and teeth have in common structurally that they would both be affected by the same process?" Scully asked.

Blair piped in, "The only thing I can think of off hand is calcium."

"Or the lack there of. Dr. Wolfe, we need to test the bone and teeth tissue for the levels of calcium and other minerals present. My thinking was that a substance would
have to have been applied to or ingested by the victim to cause the bone damage that's present. It's possible that the deterioration was actually caused somehow by the removal
of something from the body like calcium, either before or after death. Calcium does give structural strength to bones and teeth."

"It's logical," Blair answered, shooting the ME a small smile.

"Sort of, or at least my partner would think so. I just can't explain how or why it would have been done." She dug into her coat pocket and pulled out her chirping cell phone, the ring echoing in the quiet room, "Scully."

She politely turned away. "Mulder, where are you?" A tiny glance over her shoulder and than, "okay, I'll meet you in an hour."

When she turned around she reached for the coroner's hand. "Thank you Dr. Wolfe. I'll leave you my card if you get any more information."

Blair walked her back to the elevator, holding the door as a few people exited. The doors opened on the first floor. "Thank you Mr. Sandburg. I'm sure I can find my way from here."

He watched her leave the building. "Blair, call me Blair."

*****

Friday, October 1st
Gunpowder State Park, Washington

"How about we just walk for awhile? You're wearing me out." The man was a little pudgy, pushing his short legs and breathing heavily, trying to keep up with his running partner.

His wife, short and thin, small framed and curly dark hair, turned to see her husband's strained face. "Okay. Maybe we'll see some wildlife."

"You say that every morning, but we never do. Maybe I'm scaring them off with all this huffing and puffing." He linked his arm with hers as they followed the trail deeper into the wooded area.

A rustling in a group of shrubs at the bottom of a steep incline made him slow his walk. "Shh, did you hear that?"

He headed through the underbrush, his wife in tow, stopping suddenly at the sight in front of him.

His wife moved closer. "What is that? It looks like a mannequin?"

"It looks like green trash bags," he said, pushing his glasses up a little on his nose.

"Not that! That thing in the bush beside the bags."

Realization dawned on them both and they turned to ran back to their nearby house. "Was that a body? It couldn't be."

She ran ahead of him. When they reach the road they saw a dark panel truck speeding away from the park. She noticed a flash of red hair in the passenger seat. "Mark get the license plate number!" she yelled.

"1..4..something..2, damn that's all I can get," he said. When they reached the safety of their home, they called the police.

******

"Major Crimes, Ellison." Jim listened to the dispatcher and then headed for the coat rack. He looked around for his partner, finding him sitting at the lunch table in the break room looking over a file. "Hey Chief, I got a call, let's go."

Blair stood and went for his coat. "Where we going anyway?"

"Gunpowder State Park," he slipped passed Blair and punched the down button on the elevator. "Got a body in the park."

They hopped in the truck and took off toward the suburbs of Cascade.

"Brown took the call, but he is requesting us. Seems like it might be related to the Miller case."

"Man, I wonder if the body is in a similar state. Have you heard anything else for the Agent's?" Blair grabbed the door handle as Jim made a sharp right onto the interstate.

Jim's hand's tightened on the wheel briefly. "They're not much help..."

A short will later they pulled into the park and met Rafe by his car. The young man was looking a little pale, but smiled as they approached.

"You okay, man?" Blair stopped to talk to the detective, but Jim went ahead, deeper into the park.

A small group surrounded a taped off area and he found H talking with a uniformed officer.

"What do you got?" Jim asked.

Turning H told him, "We got a man, sorta."

"Sorta?"

"Yeah well, more like half a man. Seems that a good piece of him is missing." Brown opened his notebook. "Mr. and Mrs. Chopper were in the park this morning and discovered the body. They saw a panel truck speeding away from the scene. We have a partial plate and Mrs. Chopper says she saw the passenger's hair color. Said it was bright red. Couldn't tell if it was a man or women though."

A few branches snapped as Blair made his way through the onlookers. "Geez, what a smell." He lifted his hand and covered his nose.

Jim nodded, moving a ways down the embankment to talk to the ME.

"Don't touch the body, Jim." Dan stood from reviewing the remains. "There seems to be some kind of acid eating the remains. We're going to have to get a HAZMAT team out here to remove the corpse."

"No limbs," he said as Blair joined him, shielding his eyes. "We're gonna have to look around here for his legs and lower unmentionables."

"You're not serious?" Blair gazed around the vast forest. "You don't mean all this place...right?"

"Yep, 'fraid so. The entire place until we find the missing parts." Jim moved off to find Rafe and Brown to help in the search.

******

Scully's hotel room phone rang as she got out of the shower. Running, dripping wet and wrapped in a towel, she got it on the fifth ring.

"Scully, it's Mulder. We need to get to the station. I just got a call from our friendly Cascade P.D. They found another body. It's on the way to the morgue and you're
slated to do the autopsy with Dr. Wolfe."

"Great," she muttered, hoping that they would be wrapping up and going back to D.C. since they didn't have anything.

"I'm on my way over and...Scully try to still be in that towel you're wearing when I get there, okay?"

"MULDER!" Looking around the room, she almost expected to find him in a dark corner. "How do you...? "

"Okay, bye."

"Mulder? Mulder..."

******

"I can't believe we almost got caught!" Rebecca screamed at her boyfriend.

Lee shrugged, "Why are you worried?" He was used to his companion's outbursts. She was always blowing up over one thing or another. The problem was she wanted to take it out on him after every visit to her father, especially when the old man chewed her out.

Looked like he recently had a good chew.

"It was your idea Lee to use that truck. You better hope that this doesn't connect my father to this in any way because if it does, I'll have to teach you a lesson. You understand me?"

Looking at her he swallowed hard and said, "I understand, but don't worry babe."

As she huffed and stormed into the kitchen, Lee realized for the first time in his strange relationship with Rebecca that he feared for his life. He knew what she was capable of
doing, and he realized that she wouldn't hesitate to get rid of him.

After all, we're not even having sex. Too bad Rebecca's not in to it. Guess it doesn't matter anyway.

His turn on has always been the abductions and assaults…all that power over someone…he almost came in his pants just thinking about it.

******

Later the Same Afternoon
Cascade City Morgue

Scully and Wolfe examined the body on the autopsy table. It was a black male approximately in his late thirties. The lower extremities and torso below the ribcage were missing. There were massive chemical burns to the chest, arms, and face. The right hand was missing, completely dissolved by the caustic agent that had been applied to the body. A hand shaped burn was present on the right shoulder.

"The same slime, micro-organisms, and burn mark are present just as were found on the first victim." Scully examined the outside appearance of the body as she spoke into the overhead recorder.

"Doesn't look like dental records are going to do us any good," Dan said as he stuck a dental appliance in the victim's mouth, "because there aren’t any teeth."

As the ME prepared to do a test to determine the identification of the caustic agent, a woman with short, brown hair and thick-framed glasses entered the room.

She smiled at Wolfe and handed him a Petrie dish. He accepted it with a small smile and turned to Scully. "Agent Dana Scully with the FBI, this is my new lab assistant, Vicky
Moorer. She is going to do the measurements and comparison between the two burn marks on both victims to determine if the same instrument was used."

"Nice to meet you," Scully said as the woman turned her attention to the hand shaped burn photographs spread on the work table.

Scully turned back to the body and her observations. "The chemical agent is a white powder. It is extremely caustic and we will now attempt to identify the chemical in dilution with a litmus paper test."

"Hmm..." Dan looked over at the test in progress. "The powder has turned the litmus paper red, which identifies this agent as calcium oxide, also known as lime. I'll have Vicky call Ellison and ask him to check out the chemical for any leads."

Dan talked briefly to the new assistant before retuning to the body. "We better try to figure out how to neutralize the agent before the body completely dissolves, and besides
I think we want to keep our fingers and toes."

******

Saturday Morning, October 2nd
Cascade City Major Crimes Unit

Agent Scully's slide show of crime scene and autopsy photos neared its completion.

"......calcium was missing in the bone and teeth tissue of both victims. Assuming the deterioration was the cause of death either directly or by causing some other physical
failure, the calcium removal would have to have been before death. We've determined by doing a comparison of both hand shaped burns that they were caused by the same object, or at least the exact same sized object. The burns when measured and projected on a flat surface were perfectly matched. We believe that the burns were applied by some type of branding iron before death. The slimy substance was applied to the iron and then the iron was applied to the bodies for reasons unknown. The organisms and the origin of the slime remain unidentified at this time.

Mulder leaned and whispered into Scully's ear, "Good job."

Simon stood to give instructions, as the mayor was now very interested in closing the case. "Rafe, Brown, see if you can find out anything else about our John Doe's identity. Blair what did you find out about the chemical?"

Blair looked through the notes he compiled, "it's used in waste treatment by state governments...only five factories manufacture it in the states. Joel's headed over to the Public Works Department to see who has access to it in this area."

"Whoa, wait a minute... I remember one of my cases back in '84. We found a body in a trunk that was doused with some kind of chemical." Simon sat and thought for a second. "I'll pull the file and see if there are any similarities. Okay, any questions?"

Mulder spoke up, "it's possible that this chemical wasn't purchased recently. It could have been bought a hundred years ago or more before any records were kept."

Everyone in the room, including Scully, looked at him.

"Mulder, can I see you over here for a moment, please?" Scully guided him away by the elbow.

After an awkward moment of silence, Simon said, "okay people let's move."

*****

In the corner of the room Scully whispered, "Okay, I know you must have some kind of theory related to the previous X-files, so let's hear it."

"Scully, you saw the resemblance in the composite sketches between the suspect in the 1951 case and the current suspect."

"Mulder, that was over fifty years ago. What are you thinking, some kind of family relationship given the similarity?"

"Actually, I suspect that the murders were committed by the same individual."

Scully looked at him doubtfully. "Mulder, how? That's conjecture. There's no scientific evidence to suggest any relationship, and besides it's not possible."

"You didn't say that about Eugene Tooms. He came out of hibernation every thirty years for a liver dinner and he didn't look a day older."

Scully sighed. "That would mean that the murderer could have been doing this for possibly an infinite number of years, but why is it then that only a few bodies have been
found?"

"I think that they were mistakes...accidents. Obviously we wouldn't have a second victim if the calcium oxide had a few more hours to do its job. Scully, you yourself determined that the bones and teeth of the victims were missing calcium. Suppose the calcium has been removed by the murderer."

"Mulder, how and why? You're not suggesting that the calcium was extracted or ingested somehow by whoever is doing this?"

"I would say more like... digested." Mulder paused, letting his statement sink in. "Scully you remember the case about three years ago where the lonely guy was putting ads on the Internet to gets dates with heavy women. He subsequently killed them and sucked the fat from their bodies."

"Mulder, we never proved that."

"Scully, he attacked you...We've been concluding all along that the burn marks have been made by an instrument. What if the marks are actually handprints? The skin has been burned, which suggests some kind of energy release or transfer. The calcium could have been extracted by this energy or the micro-organisms causing death in that instant. Maybe the red head needs the calcium to survive. Her body digests it in some way,"
Mulder paused, "it gives new meaning to the phrase, 'you are what you eat'."

"Mulder, what I think is that you've seen too many old B zombie movies on tv."

"Scully, you as a scientist must agree that there are species that are parasitic that drain nutrients and other substances from their hosts."

"Yes Mulder, but not humans from other humans, or are you suggesting that the red head is actually a little green man in disguise?"

Mulder looked hurt, but confidently said, "Scully, I'm right on this and I'm going to prove it with or without your help."

******

Monday Afternoon, October 4th
Major Crimes Unit

"Anybody seen Mulder?" Jim yelled across the squad room to no one in particular. Brown passed in front of his desk balancing a few cups of coffee.

"I believe I saw the younger, thinner Elvis leave the building about an hour ago with the lovely Agent Scully. Why? What's up? Something new on your case?"

"Yeah, I just got a call on the ditched panel truck that was found last night. Forensics determined that the trace amount of blood in the back is a match for our John Doe."

"Fingerprints?" Brown asked, sitting one mug on Jim's desk.

"The truck was wiped down pretty clean...but the lab found a partial on the floor mat on the driver's side, and a couple on a gum wrapper that was thrown under the seat.
They're going to run them through the national system. Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe we'll get a hit." Jim sat back, digging through his desk for some change.

"Ah...the sweet smell of a lead. The bad guys mess up and we get to haul 'em in and be heroes. Makes me proud to be a police officer," H moved away to his own desk, dropping off one mug for Rafe and Joel on his way by.

"Yeah, yeah...you're a hero." Jim stood, pulling his wallet out. "Blair, can you go get us some coffee from Stan's?" He shoved a few bills and coins into his partner's hands. "When you get back we're going to question a suspect...Charles Moorehouse. He's the owner of Vincent's Restaurant at the Inner Harbor."

"Hey...I think I ate there once with a good looking blonde and she paid the tab." Blair laughed. "I'm with you, and let's get some take out while we're there. I'm starvin'."

*****

Early Evening
Major Crimes Unit

Charles Moorehouse sat in the interrogation room at the Cascade Police Station. He had been left alone for over an hour and wondered if they were ever going to come back to question him. His eyes scanned the room once again, the nondescript gray cinder-block walls, broken up by a large mirrored window. The table was square, only two chairs. Overhead, matching hanging lamp.

I hope this doesn't take too long. I need to eat soon.

Whatever they have on that damn rental truck can't be traced back to me. The truck was obviously seen leaving the scene of the crime. Rebecca...what has you done now? Why would she take that truck without my knowledge? That crazy boyfriend probably put her up to it.

The longer he sat, the hotter he got. He began to sweat, feeling his skin stick to his dress shirt. He could feel the slime running down his back.

God, it's hot in here. Maybe I should have asked to have my lawyer present.

He waited another hour, hoping someone would come in soon so he could get this ordeal over with. He decided to remove his suit coat in an effort to keep from sweating.

Jim and Blair watched from the observation room. Simon entered, trailed by the FBI Agents.

"Do you think he has been in there long enough?" Simon asked.

"I think we should give it a little while longer. I think we should wait until he's more uncomfortable." Mulder piped up.

A short look to the agent and then Simon decided, "okay, another half hour, but that's it. We can't keep him here much longer or he'll walk."

Why is it so hot in here?

The back of Moorehouse's neck was damp. Now the slime started to ooze from around his hairline. He took out his handkerchief and patted at his forehead.

they don't come in soon, I'm leaving. I don't care how it looks.

Slime from his back poured down into the waistband of his slacks. His handkerchief was drenched with the ooze. He used the lining of his suit coat to wipe his face and neck.

Hopefully those damn detectives won't come in now and find me covered with sweat.

He folded his suit coat neatly and draped it over the back of his chair again. After a few minutes, he wiped the back of his neck with his hand, coating it with the sticky stuff; he flicked it to the floor under the table.

The door started to open. "Finally," he sighed.

"Whew, it's hot in here," Jim said. "Mr. Moorehouse, can I get you something? Uh...a soda maybe, or a glass of water? You look pretty soaked there."

"No thank you Detective Ellison."

Jim pulled the chair across from Moorehouse and laced his fingers together on the table, studying the man across from him. Blair leaned against the window, back against the cool glass.

"So," Jim began. "How is it that a truck you rented ended up leaving the scene of a murder a few days ago? We have evidence that the deceased was in the back of the truck."

"As I've already told you detective, I rented the truck for my delivery man to pick up supplies for my restaurant. By the evening it was too late to have the truck returned. It was parked in my lot. Someone must have stolen it overnight."

"Then why didn't you report it stolen the morning that you noticed it was gone? Why did you wait a couple of days?" Jim looked to Blair, shrugging his shoulder.

"I would have reported it if I had known that it was stolen. I assumed that my delivery man had returned the truck to the rental company the following morning. I had given him instructions to do so the night before. I didn't speak to him about it that morning because he was running errands. When I spoke to him yesterday he informed me that he hadn't returned the truck, and that he assumed that I had someone else do it. I was surprised to find that it had been stolen. That's when I reported it immediately. Surely there must be some evidence of that...a hot-wired ignition, a jimmied door, something," Moorehouse looked steadily at him, never breaking eye contact.

Deciding to try a different approach Jim asked, "Do you frequent any bars in town Chuck? Strip joints or like the kind in the district?"

"Certainly not," Moorehouse raised his voice, dropping his eyes to the table.

"Ever heard of a chemical called..." Jim looked to Blair.

"Calcium oxide?" His partner told him.

"Yeah, Calcium oxide. Is that used in the restaurant industry?"

"No...I can't say that I've ever heard of it." His eyes met Jim's again.

Jim dropped the composite drawings of the red headed suspect and her presumed boyfriend in front of Moorehouse. "Have you ever seen these two before? They are suspects in two murders, and may have been in the rental truck when it left the last crime scene."

Rebecca. Moorehouse tried not to look shocked or surprised when he saw his daughter's picture.

"Who's is she? The look on your face just told me you know her. Who is she, huh? Your girlfriend? We thought the rough looking character in the other picture might be the boyfriend, or didn't you know about him?" Jim pushed back his chair, the screech of the legs loud in the room.

Don't push me detective. I could kill you in an instant. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know this girl and I think I shall leave now." I have to get out here before I do something I may regret. I'm...starving.

Mulder and Scully viewed the interrogation through the two-way mirror. "They're going to have to let him go. He's right. We have nothing to hold him on," Mulder shifted away from the window. "He may be involved, but he didn't commit the murders."

"How do you know that?" Scully followed him from the room and into an empty hallway.

"Because he's not a red headed woman, or at least as far as I can tell."

"What makes you so sure that the woman is the murderer?

"I think that they work in tandem. When we find the male suspect his DNA will match the semen sample, but he didn't kill Tony Miller either. The red head did...because the hand shaped burns found on both bodies were made by a small slender hand, a woman's hand, Scully."

******

Blair noticed Mulder putting on his overcoat and asked, "where you off to, leaving without your partner?"

"Well, I sent Scully to talk to Taggart to see if there's any new leads on the calcium oxide. He seemed to think that the chemical was a dead-end since anyone who worked for the Public Works Department couldn't have stolen a drum. I'm going to tail Moorehouse and see what he's up to. I know this guy's involved in the murders. He might lead us straight to the red head. He definitely recognized the composite."

"Okay, we'll go with you." Jim handed Blair his jacket and they follow Mulder to the elevator."

The radio in the rental car was tuned to the local station.

"...WUPN has learned that a suspect may be in custody for the two brutal murders of a thirty two year old man and an unidentified male. Inside sources stated that both murders were connected by an unusual mutilation of the bodies. WUPN will be trying to speak with an official of the Cascade City Police Department to confirm this report. This is Dawn Daniels reporting live outside the Cascade City Police Department. Back to you Denise...."

Blair leaned forward in his seat, "man, heads are gonna roll."

They saw the suspect leaving via the back entrance and Mulder followed at a discreet distance. The man looked fatigued and pale, stumbling as he hailed a cab on the corner.

A while later the cab pulled over in a seedier part of town. Mulder pulled to the curb on the opposite side of the intersection. They all watched as Moorehouse approached a heavy set brunette.

Moorehouse handed a wad of bills to the woman and they disappeared around the corner into an adjacent alley.

"Okay, let's go...carefully," Jim said, eyeing his partner.

They slipped out of the car quietly and crossed the intersection.

Blair whispered, "How do you think he's involved?"

"I don't know," Mulder told him. "I'm more interested in why."

Once at the entrance to the alley, Jim could see that the suspect was not in the alley.

They walked farther to the back, "where could they have gone?" Blair asked, standing close to Jim.

Looking into the darkness, Jim could see a little light coming from a half opened door. He signaled Mulder and Blair to follow him. They entered the building, drawing their guns and Jim pushed Blair slightly behind him.

The room was a storage area that was stacked from the floor to ceiling with pallets of boxes and crates, the light coming from a swinging bulb overhead. Jim could make out a small scuffling sound coming from the back of the room and motioned for Mulder to go to the left around some wooden crates.

Moving slowly, he clearly saw Moorehouse holding the woman by the neck against the brick wall with his left hand. She struggled wildly and kicked at him with her feet. Her mouth was open, but no noise came out.

Moving closer with his gun raised, he saw the look on the suspect's face, a look of sorrow as he touched her on the arm with his right hand and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Moorehouse's hand and her arm fuse together for an instant as the micro-organisms attach themselves to her skin. A brilliant flash of light blinded Jim for an instant and he dropped to the floor.

Blair kneeled next to him and in the distance he could hear the woman shutter and drop dead to the floor.

Jim heared Mulder whisper, "over here. She's dead."

"He's...here." Jim got out, looking up to Blair.

Movement along the far wall brought the FBI Agent from the shadows. Blair watched as the suspect lunged, arms out stretched.

Mulder tried to move, but Moorehouse had grabbed him around the neck and was easily lifting the agent into the air.

BANG!

Before Blair could comprehend what was happening, Moorehouse slumped to the floor, bleeding heavily from a shot to the chest.

"You okay, Chief? Jim moved toward the body, gun still aimed at the still figure.

The agent stood, patting at his neck.

"I don't see any marks, you're okay Mulder"

******

Late Evening, Monday, October 4th
Harbor Health Spa

She sat at her desk trying to finish a pile of paperwork, but couldn't concentrate. A little later, she hit the power button on the TV remote, the TV encased in the credenza on the far wall clicked to life and she switched to the evening news, wanting to see if rain would be in the forecast.

The announcer's voice filled the room. The volume was up too high. "We have breaking news on the third mutilation murder. The suspect in this case and two previous others has been shot and killed at the scene by a Cascade City detective. The suspect was shot by the officer when he attacked an unnamed FBI agent that has been working on the case. The suspect has been identified as Charles Moorehouse who was the owner of the trendy five star Vincent's Restaurant at the Inner Harbor."

She stared at the TV screen in disbelief.

There must be some mistake.

A photograph of her father was flashed on the screen behind the anchorwoman's head. Hot tears started to flow down her cheeks.

"No..."

A prerecorded scene ran, showing a covered gurney being pushed to a waiting ambulance...three men followed in the background.

"Cascade City Police celebrate tonight, putting an end to the vicious murders that have occurred over the last couple of weeks. WUPN will update this story throughout the broadcast as more information becomes available. In other news tonight..."

"No! No! It can't be," she screamed.

Shaking, she grabbed up the phone. After a few rings a voice answered. "I...I need to talk to you.

*****

The Following Evening, Tuesday, October 5th
Baltimore City Morgue

After they complete the autopsy on Charles Moorehouse, Dan helped Scully cover the body with a sheet. Mulder entered the examination room and nodded a greeting to Dr. Wolfe. Before he could say anything to his partner, his cell phone rang.

"Mulder. Yeah...okay...right," he returned his phone to his coat pocket. "That was Ellison. They finished the search of our friend's restaurant," he nodded to the form under the white sheet, "they found several drums of what appears to be a white powder in a basement storage room. The lab confirmed that it's calcium oxide."

His partner removed her safety goggles and gloves, thanking the ME before leading Mulder across the room. "Well, we know that Moorehouse didn't rape the first victim. It will be a while before the official results are returned, but I called the lab and the preliminary results suggest that Moorehouse's sample does not match our semen sample."

Mulder nodded and she continued, "the hand shaped burn on Moorehouse's victim also matches his hand print perfectly, although his hand print is inconsistent with the burn marks on the other two victims."

"And?" Mulder asked.

"And...I can't believe it, but the man has no digestive system Mulder. None at all. The mouth area at the back of the throat is a small pouch that joins the windpipe. There's no esophagus to speak of...no stomach, no intestines...no rec..."

"No number two," Mulder smirked. "Poor bastard. How about the hands, Scully?"

"As you requested we dissected both hands. We found nothing unusual in the left, but in the right palm we found what appears to be a small digestive organ," she handed him a glass jar of yellow fluid. Floating inside was a round, gray lump with dozens of tendrils hanging from its underside. It reminded Mulder of a jellyfish. "It contained digestive juices as you would expect to find in a normal stomach. The tendrils were connected to arteries in the right arm. As much as I hate to admit it Mulder, it looks like you were right. It appears that the victim's calcium was removed by an unknown process when Moorehouse's palm was applied to the skin. The calcium is probably absorbed through the palm and into the organ where it's presumably digested in some fashion. The calcium would appear to be sent directly into the bloodstream through the tendrils you see there. Your zombie theory seems to be on target."

Mulder shifted a bit farther away from the other people in the room. "Scully, this means that there are at least two of them. That stills leaves the red head and her rapist boyfriend unaccounted for."

*****

Wednesday Morning, October 6th

Jim and Blair sat around his desk, finishing the preliminary report on Moorehouse.

Rafe came from the hall, dropping a slip of paper on Jim's desk. "You got a call from research. They got a response from national on the prints from the truck. Three possible matches. They're emailing the files up now with the mug shots."

"Thanks, Rafe." Jim pulled up his email and opened the requested information. Blair slid his chair closer to see the profile shots of the suspects.

Jim scanned each convict's record before looking at the photos.

"Anything promising?" Blair asked.

"These guys are just petty cons. Mostly theft and robbery with short prison terms. Nothing heavy duty...Whoa....this guy was released from the State Penn three months ago after a seven year term for sexual assault on a minor. He's got some previous convictions for rape."

Blair pulled the composite sketch of the male suspect from the file. "Same coloring and build. He doesn't look much like the composite though."

"Composites have been known to be notoriously wrong before." Jim took the drawing and compared it to the photo on his computer, hitting the print button for the file. "His name is Leeland Duane Neff. He worked in a club on 8th Street as a bouncer before his arrest."

"No current address," Blair told him, picking up the papers as they printed, "and current whereabouts unknown."

"He's got to be our guy," Jim sat back, rubbing a hand over his face. "He fits. Recently out, sexual assault convictions, worked in the area where one of the victims was last seen alive. What else could we ask for?"

"The computer gives his prints a 92.3% chance of being the prints found in the truck. A direct match isn't possible because they were partials and smears." Blair handed Jim the papers. "Maybe he's hanging at his old digs. Old habits die hard."

"We gotta find him, Chief." Jim rose from his chair. "I got to talk to Simon about putting an APB out on this guy."

******

10:00 AM, Thursday, October 7th

Warehouse on Saratoga Street

Dead.

Daddy's dead.

I won't even be able to attend his funeral.

Rebecca reread the brief article in the Cascade Times about the police shooting which resulted in the death of the well-respected restaurant owner, Charles Moorehouse. In the article along side a photograph of her father's restaurant is a picture taken at the scene. A tall man in a long black coat...gotta be the FBI Agent, another tall man turned and talking to a short guy, long curly hair.

"Which one of you killed my father?

Storming from the loft, she grabbed up her cell phone.

"Lee...I need you to do something for me."

*****

The grocery store was crowded, but Blair doesn't mind. It was hard to believe that it had been over a week since he had been here. He fingered the card in his pocket, wondering if he should stop into the health club and talk to... “Constance.” He read the name on the business card.

He picked a few tomatoes up, smelling them before putting them in his cart. He was planning on making steak on the grill for dinner, grateful that he and Jim agreed on buying the George Foreman. It made grilling so much easier.

Grabbing a bag of tortilla chips, he headed for the check out. Paying for his purchase, he made his way to the Volvo, unlocking the door and tossing the bag onto the passenger seat.

The fine hairs on his neck stood on end and he turned to see a man standing under a streetlight a few cars away, the darkness of the night and the brightness of the light concealed his face.

Deciding to get while the getting was good, he started to sit, but stopped when a hand landed on his arm.

"Sorry pal," and then a meaty fist punched him hard in the gut. Blair doubled over clutching his aching stomach, looking around frantically for someone to help. The man yanked him out, still bent over; he brought down both fists on the back of Blair's neck, knocking him out.

Sometime later he startled awake surrounded by complete darkness. At first he didn't know what had happened or where he was. Motion, creaking sounds, and the smell of gasoline told him that he must be in a trunk of a car. He laid on his right side, wrists handcuffed in front of his body. Unable to move his feet, he reached down his pant leg to find that his ankles were bound together by thick rope.

The vehicle jerked to a sudden stop. He heard a door slam and the sound of heavy feet on pavement. Holding his breath, he waited for the trunk lid to pop open.

The man looming over him was the same man from the sketch.

He smirked down at Blair, "don't worry pal, you're gettin' out of this trunk..." He reached in, pulling Blair by the rope tied around his ankles. "And after you do, you and me are going to have some fun."

Jerked from the trunk feet first, with a sickening thud his head and shoulders hit the pavement. The man pulled him up, slinging Blair over his shoulder, squeezing his leg a little too hard. "Rebecca is going to be so happy."

After an elevator ride, he was dumped on a bed, White sheets covered the manufacturers plastic. His wrists were handcuffed around a vertical bar on the bed frame above and behind his head.

The man loomed in the corner of the room, rooting around in a drawer.

He came back across the room, something dangled in his hand. "You ready for a little fun?"

Blair shook his head, pulling at his wrists, drawing his bound feet up.

"None of that," the man sat on the bed, pulling the duct tape from Blair's mouth. "Now be quiet. The last thing you want is for Rebecca to come in here."

And then he leaned forward, running a hand down Blair's chest.

"Don't do this, man." Blair could feel tears pressing at the back of his eyes.

A fist mashed into his face, blood shot over the pillowcase.

"Don't think that pleading will help you." The man sneered. "I like it when they beg."

"Lee?" A woman came to the doorway, but Blair could hardly make her out. The man on top of him was blocking his view. "Take care of him."

And then she was gone.

Sometime later, Blair tried to turn over off his sore ribs. His throat was sore and dry, swallowing he tasted blood. Trying to breathe, he cleared his throat, spitting blood and mucus to the hard wood floor. His tongue told him that he had a loose tooth, maybe two.

He looked down at his body and realized that his legs weren't restrained, so he bent his knees and flexed his stiff ankles. His shirt was ripped down the front and bright red welts and bruises pepper his chest and belly. His ribs ached with every breath. "At least I'm still breathing."

He turned his head slowly to one side and looked around the room. It was still dark, but he could make out stains on the wall...scrape marks on the metal headboard.

He twisted and pulled on the handcuffs again, rubbing his raw wrists in a vain attempt to free himself by dislodging the headboard.

God, how many people have been beaten...how many have died here in this bed?

A trickle of cold sweet snaked down his back and he tried harder to get loose...he had to get away before the man returned, before something worse than a beating happened.

******

Friday Morning, October 8th

"Any word?" Jim paced the confines of his boss' office. He had been at the station for hours, searching the streets, manning the phones, anything he could think of to find his partner.

"Nope," Simon poured a mug of coffee and passed it to Jim. "Forensics just finished with his car. No prints were found, his groceries were sitting on the front seat, but we have no witnesses. Nobody even remembers seeing him at the store."

"Captain?" H stuck his head in the door. "A uniform just picked up Neff going into a club. They're on their way in."

Jim jumped up and headed for the door. "I'm the one talking to him."

"Okay," Simon joined him. "Just make sure you go by the book."

Leeland Duane Neff was ushered into the interrogation room. Jim stalked over and roughly pulled out a chair and pushed the man down. "I'm Detective Jim Ellison."

The man nodded, clearing his throat.

"You're under arrest for the suspected kidnapping of Blair Sandburg, the rape and murder of Tony Miller, and the murder of an unidentified black male."

"I didn't hurt anybody."

"Yeah, well the public defender is on the way, but in the mean time, let’s have a nice chat while we wait. You know, man-to-man. What we have here is an open and shut case as far as the DA is concerned. So you need to start talking right now because your implication and complicity in these murders are gonna lead you right to death row my friend. So talk. Where's Sandburg for starters?"

The man crossed his arms, sinking back into his chair. "I think I'll wait until my lawyer gets here."

*****

Simon opened the door to the interrogation room. "Jim, can I see you a minute?"

Jim walked stiffly to the door, shoulders straight and muscles tight. No matter what Jim threatened him with, Neff refused to give up any information. The public defender showed up a while ago and Neff hadn't said a word since. "What's up Simon?"

"We may have caught a break," Jim's friend walked down the corridor toward the bullpen. "Agent Mulder might have found something."

Agent Scully sat at his desk, typing something into her laptop

"Where's your partner?" Jim grabbed his jacket.

"He's on his way in." She told him, shutting down her computer.

Soon the agent walked in and right up to Jim. "It's just a hunch based on information provided by a witness I just interviewed, but I've got a good idea of where your partner is being held."

Scully joined them at the elevator. "What did you find out, Mulder?"

"I had a lengthy conversation with an ex-girlfriend of Neff's. She strips in the club where he used to work as a bouncer. She gave me his most recent and presumably current address. It's an apartment on Saratoga Street above an old closed up warehouse." Mulder left his rental car pulled up near the elevator in the garage.

"But how do you know it's not just another bogus address like the rest we found on Neff?" Jim buckled in, squeezing his legs behind the front seat.

"Because." Mulder took a left and headed over to the warehouse district. "The stripper was there previously. She described the interior for me and told me exactly where it is in the building, on the fifth floor. She's been there with him on more than one occasion to give him a 'private dance' so to speak," Mulder turned to look at Jim. "Until he got himself a new girlfriend from the club. A redhead. The stripper told me that Neff and the woman were shacking up and were presumably doing the horizontal tango at his place."

Gliding the car to a stop, they all jumped out and crossed the street. The entire section of the street was dark and deserted, full of dilapidated housing, old empty warehouses, and boarded up businesses.

The warehouse building they approached was red brick, but crumbling. The windows on the bottom floor were boarded up; the windows on higher floors that once enclosed office space were almost all broken. A rickety looking metal fire escape climbed the building to the left of the main entrance door. The building was completely dark except for the fifth floor, which was lit up like a parking lot. There seemed to be open windows around the exterior of the loft apartment.

"Neff may be in jail, but it certainly looks like somebody's home, Scully."

Jim kneeled close to the others, listening. "He's in there." He told them, then moved closer.

"How do you know that?" Mulder moved up by him, putting a hand on Jim's shoulder.

"I just do," Jim moved into the brush around the bottom of the building. "He's in a back room. You two find a way in, I'm going around back."

"That was odd." Scully scooter closer to her partner as a dark sedan pulled recklessly in front of the building. As the brakes screeched, Mulder grabbed Scully by the shoulder and pushed her flat against the building

Once they heard the car door slam Mulder carefully lifting his head to look, "it's our red head."

The woman unlocked the main entrance door with a key and flipped a light switch to illuminate the bottom floor of the building. She moved quickly to the intercom buzzer beside the elevator, the sound of the buzzer and elevator motor echoed through the building. Mulder and Scully could hear the noise from outside as the elevator slowly descended to the bottom floor.

*****

Rebecca angrily waited for her arrival in the fifth floor loft. Seated on a green sectional sofa facing the elevator, she waited for her quest to arrive.

A moan from the back room echoed through the nearly empty loft, but she ignored it, knowing that she would be taking care of that problem soon enough. Maybe her guest would like to stay and share in her meal.

*~*~*

Below, on the side of the building, both agents converged on the door that the red head had just entered. Mulder tried the knob. "It's locked."

He surveyed the exterior of the building noting that there were other doors, some latched by padlocks.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and one will be open," Scully moved to the next door. "Let's start trying them."

"You do that." Mulder moved away. "See if you can find another way up to that loft besides the elevator."

"What are you going to be doing?"

"I'm going up that fire escape. It may drop me close to an open window so I can get in."

Scully shook her head, "it may drop you five stories to the ground to your death by the way that thing looks."

Mulder ignored her comment and warned, "remember Scully if you run into the red head, don't let her get close enough to touch you." Then he disappeared into the shadows around the corner of the building.

Finding no other likely entrance Scully turned her attention to the rusty padlock on the nearest door. After several attempts at unsuccessfully trying to pick the lock, she returned to the door with a long piece of metal she found in a nearby dumpster. Forcing the metal between the hinge and the doorjamb she pulled dislodging the hinge.

Close by, Mulder scaled the fire escape as quickly and quietly as possible. By the time he reached the fifth floor he was sweating and breathing heavily. Leaning his back against the cold exterior of the brick building he heard shouts from a nearby open window.

The voices of two women quarreling filled the apartment. They often overlap each other making it difficult for Mulder to understand what was being said. At times the voices faded, as if the fight was being continued in another room.

Leaning over slowly he could see two women, similar looking, both with flame red hair.

"It's your fault that Father is dead, Rebecca. How could you have been so stupid as to use Father's truck to dispose of that body, or did your psycho boyfriend put you up to that? Where is he anyway, out on another drunken binge? If he were here, I'd kill him myself."

"Oh... excuse me...Daddy's favorite little girl...the sensible, responsible one. Ms. Society with her health club. Oh so...particular about what she eats, only healthy ones, and with such etiquette concerning body disposal. What happened to Daddy is not my fault, Constance. A certain detective is responsible for shooting Daddy, and when I'm done using Lee, I'll kill him myself... Thank you very much. And you know what else? At least my mother wasn't one of those ordinary people!" she shrieked, moving toward the back room.

The woman closer to the window was quiet for a moment and she then spoke in a softer voice, "your stupidity led the police right to father. You can't deny that, and your stupidity is going to lead the police right to you".

"Give me a little credit for being smarter than that. After all...I have the last laugh anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"I have a special guest in the bedroom Constance. Lee grabbed him for me and I'm going to kill him when I please to avenge our father. Go see for yourself."

Mulder watched as the two moved away from the window, but he strained to hear what they were saying.

"Maybe you'll want to take part yourself. It may help you to release some of that anger."

"Rebecca, now what have you done?"

*****

 

Scully was just entering the building when her phone rang.

"Scully," Mulder whispered. "I'm on the fire escape. They're arguing. There are two of them, Scully."

"Two what...suspects?" she moved farther into the building, looking for a stair well.

"Call for backup. I'm coming down," Mulder whispered. With his last sentence, his cell phone slipped from his sweaty hand and clanged down the fire escape stairs.

*****

Jim waited just behind the bedroom door. He was able to break a lock and enter the building from the rear, climbing the stairwell and entering the loft by a rear door.

Someone had been arguing since he had arrived, but that didn't stop him from checking on his partner. A low moan escaped Blair's torn lips as Jim patted his face. "I'll have you out of here in a minute, Chief."

He slipped behind the door when footsteps approached the bedroom.

"Rebecca, you idiot," one woman yelled. "I know this man. I met him in the health food store. He can identify me. I even gave him my business card for Christ's sake."

A pinging sound from outside the window drew them away. "There's someone on the fire escape."

"Unlikely Rebecca since we're five floors up and that fire escape couldn't hold its breath, let alone any weight."

"It sounded like something falling." Slowly, they moved to the living area, leaving Jim to uncuff his partner.

******

Mulder saw one woman approaching the open window and stuck his head and upper body through, drawing his gun he yelled, "freeze, FBI. Don't move an inch or I will shoot you. Call the other one out from the backroom. Call her now!"

Not saying a word, she moved a fraction closer.

Mulder yelled again, "you in the backroom come out with your hands in plain sight above your head."

No one exited the back room. Fairly certain that he was now in control of the situation; he began to enter the window...halfway in, his pant leg caught on a nail, sticking up from the sill. Stumbling into the room, the woman saw his moment of vulnerability. She hesitated for an instant than ran at full speed toward him, one hand outstretched, palms forward.

BANG!

A bullet tears through her heart, her body slammed hard into the floor. A growing red stain spread on the front of her blouse. She was dead even before her body hit the floor. Her blue eyes, pupils fixed and dilated, stared up at the metal beams that support the loft's ceiling.

"Thank you…again." Mulder told Jim as the detective holstered his gun. Stepping fully into the room, he allowed Jim to steady him. "Did you get Sandburg?"

"Yeah, ambulance is on the way."

He followed the detective back to the bed. Sandburg was bloody and appeared to be unconscious. The other suspect was gone; there was another exit door in the hall near the bedroom.

*****

BANG!

It was definitely a gunshot and Scully hurried through the empty building. There was an elevator shaft in the middle of the room, but the elevator wasn't on the floor.

An enclosed metal staircase sat to the left of the elevator, turning on her flashlight, she quickly ran up the stairs to the fifth floor door. She jiggled the locked handle. "Mulder... Mulder."

With a swift kick from a very high heel, the door burst open into the loft. Spotting the dead woman by the window she called again for her partner.

Mulder came out from a back room, looking from Scully to the splintered doorjamb. "I came up the stairs when I heard the gunshot."

Shaking his head, he moved closer to the body, carefully picking up the dead woman's hand. "We have Sandburg. Detective Ellison made it in a back entrance. Ambulance is own the way."

"Better call in the coroner." Scully told him.

"Umm... can you? I seemed to have dropped my phone down all five flights of the fire escape."

She made the call and then checked in on Ellison and Sandburg. "He's beat up pretty badly, I don’t think he was…I ah think he's going to be all right." Blair started moaning so Jim turned back to him, patting his arm.

"How about the second suspect?" Scully turned back to her own partner.

"She's gone...down the elevator right before you made your grand entrance."

"Are you absolutely certain that there were two? Did you actually see her? There is no evidence that suggests so. Isn't it possible that she may have been mentally disturbed, or was suffering from a clinical multiple personality disorder? She may have been arguing with another personality instead of another person, Mulder."

"There were two distinct voices. They were arguing and, although I can't be certain of all that was said, the voices overlapped on top of each other. Even a ventriloquist can't do that. Besides someone went down in the elevator. They were sisters, Scully. Moorehouse was their father. One of them... I think the one who's lying in there on the floor, kidnapped Sandburg to avenge their father's death."

"There were two." Jim joined them in the living area. "He's out again."

Moving closer to the body, he bent down as Scully kneeled.

"When you do the autopsy you should find that this woman has the same anatomical anomalies and biology as Moorehouse." Mulder said.

"Or at least I really hope so since I shot her at point blank range and she doesn't have a weapon." Jim added.

"I think we'll also find that her hand print matches the burns in the Miller and John Doe cases." Scully told them, looking closer at the woman's face...something was off...a tuff of dark brown hair was sticking out around her forehead. "Mulder, I think the suspect may be wearing a wig."

"Huh...?"

With a gloved hand Scully removed the red wig from around the head and face of the dead woman. Underneath was a head of thick, dark brown hair, cut very short. Then she ran a gloved hand over the woman's face. A piece of silicone around her nose came loose.

"Mulder...it's the ME's assistant....Wolfe's assistant...Vicky Moorer."

Scully looked up and met Mulder's eyes. They looked at each other with perplexed expressions, not quite comprehending how the pieces fit together yet. Police sirens approached the building.

******

Sunday Evening, October 10th
Cascade General

Get well cards were taped to the wall opposite the single window that overlooked the parking lot. Flower arrangements covered the top of the credenza under the window. Jim and Simon sat in chairs around the hospital bed, reading magazines.

Blair sat propped in the bed with his back against several pillows. His right arm was in a cast and his forehead was covered with a large bandage that protected the stitched cut on his head. He had a black eye and a yellowing bruise near his jaw line, his gown covering a multitude of other bruised flesh. His IV's had just been removed and he had been eating and going to the bathroom on his own today.

Jim looked up and saw that Blair was looking at him through swollen and blackened eyes. "Hey Chief. Feeling better?"

A small nod and then the eyes closed again.

"I'm going to go get a coffee. Want anything Jim?"

"No, I'm good."

Once Simon was gone, his partner's eyes opened again. "The doc said you could go home in a couple of days. They just want to keep an eye on your noggin." Jim stood and adjusted a pillow under the cast arm.

FBI Agents Mulder and Scully entered the room. Dana approached the bed, smiling down at Blair. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks." Blair shifted a little on the bed, wincing a time or two. "What's happening with the case?"

Jim stayed close. This was the first time Blair had asked about what was happening.

"Well," Mulder began. "We have the case from 1951 and 1984 that are going to remain unsolved in the books. The recent cases are going to be filed inconclusive, considering the evidence degenerated."

"What?" Jim looked up from his friend.

"All the bodies," Scully told them. "Even Moorehouse and Moorer. There is nothing left but dust and ashes. Dr. Wolfe’s tested to see if they were related but the results were inconclusive and it appears Moorer moved into town around the time of the first killing. There are some similar unsolved cases in Baltimore were she had lived and worked as a tech for the Baltimore Forensics Department."

"Umm...how about Neff?" Blair wouldn't even meet their eyes and Jim had to wonder again if something happened that Blair hadn’t told him about. Despite his protests, the doctor checked for sexual assault, since that was apart of Neff's MO, but there was no evidence. Blair had numerous other injuries, but thankfully that wasn't one of them.

"Neff's going to jail for a long time, Chief." Jim assured him. "He confessed to the Miller rape and your kidnapping and assault. He still insists he didn't kill anybody, but given the bizarre nature of the cases and the circumstantial evidence against him, the jury probably won't buy it."

Blair carefully nodded his head, resting back into his pillows. "What about the second woman I heard everyone taking about?"

"She's no where to be found. Probably never will be found unless she leaves a body." Mulder shrugged. "We don't even know who she is. But then there's no evidence that she killed anyone either."

Once the agent's said their goodbyes and left, Jim sat back down, holding onto Blair's hand. He wondered if he should approach the subject again. The last time he said anything, Blair got very upset, but was adamant that nothing happened besides the beating.

******

Epilogue
Tahiti, October 30th

She sat in a plastic lounge chair on a beautiful white-sanded beach, wearing a bright yellow bikini. She was petite but shapely; her short blonde hair shined in the bright sun, her blues eyes sparkled with all the possibilities.

It felt so good to get away from it all.

The beach was covered with ordinary people. They were all slim, deeply tanned and athletic. Some sunbathed. Some jogged along the shore. Some swam...others played volleyball.

In the hot midday sun she began to sweat, but it isn't sweat. It was a mucous-like slime that oozes from her pores dampening the towel that covered the lounge chair. As she wiped the back of her neck with her hand, a few drops sank into to the sand.

A man approached, jogging along the beach. He was bare chested and buff, and moving in her direction...probably returning to the exclusive resort behind her. A large Retriever trotted beside him anticipating a ball toss.

Very handsome...muscular.

As he lofted a long throw down the shoreline, she bolted impulsively from her lounge chair and jogged the short distance down the beach to meet him. "Hi, my name is...um, Connie Mooregate. I don't normally do this kind of thing and I don't mean to embarrass you or myself, but I want you to know that I think you're attractive. If you're free, would you have dinner with me tonight?"

He smiled back and as she waited for his reply, she eyed him from head to toe.

He'll do just fine.

 

The End