Stephanie Bell’s Residence

March 30, 1998

2:13 p.m.

Stephanie Bell rubbed her bare ring finger softly as she got out of her car. Though it had been days since she turned down her boyfriend's proposal, her subconscious seemed to constantly question her decision. She really did feel bad turning him down, but she wasn't ready to commit her life to one man. Though some of her friends were desperately eager to decorate themselves with a symbol of their lover's undying love, she had no such desire.

Closing her eyes, she recalled the look of devastation that passed over him when she put her hand over the ring box and told him firmly "no" when he asked for her hand in marriage. She felt so guilty seeing the aguish and confusion on his face, she almost reversed her decision. Fortunately, for the both of them, she held steadfast to her first answer. There was no reason for the relationship to go further than where she wanted it to be.

The calendar on her wall reminded her that only four days had passed since that awkward night. At times, it seemed like she had been alone for months. So far, her boyfriend has respected her request for solitude. It was a lot lonelier, she had to admit, but not necessarily in a bad way.

After he packed a suitcase that night, Stephanie had a chance to take a step back from the relationship and contemplate her actions. Why had she led on the man she supposedly loved? Did this relationship become a game to her at some point? When did she realize that he loved her more than she loved him and why hadn't she ended it there?

She walked into the kitchen and put a pot of water on the stove to boil. Placing the box of tea she purchased on the counter, she hoped the warm liquid would calm her rattled nerves.

After several minutes, her drink was ready. She poured herself a cup and moved to the couch. The weather had turned rather chilly as the day wore on, making the warm cup feel good around Stephanie's cold hands.

Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw someone walking. "Bryan?" she called loudly. "Is that you?"

Silence was her answer.

Convincing herself she was seeing things, she took a sip of her tea. Before she could swallow, there was a loud thud and her body dropped to the floor; the cup breaking underneath her.

X-Files Office

April 18, 1998

7:45 a.m.

"Hey Scully," Mulder called as she entered the office, "did you manage to catch last night's special on the validity of crop circles in England?"

She put down her briefcase and poured herself a cup of coffee before answering. "Sorry, I must have missed it," she said unsympathetically. "I was reading an interesting article about how crime labs are using bugs to create timelines of murder victims. I was impressed. Dr. Grissom definitely knew the finer points of entomology."

Mulder let out an exaggerated yawn. "Come on. Your Monday night has to be better spent than learning about insects."

She crossed her arms defensively. "You know, Mulder, I am sure there will come a time when a person like me can turn on their television and be entertained by science."

Snorting, he replied, "Oh, I can see it now. They could call it Tales from a Crime Lab. 'Please, Doctor, pass me the slide with the DNA sample on it. With science, we can solve any crime.'"

She raised one eyebrow, like she did when she disagreed with one of his theories with a case. "I'm telling you, it will happen." She thought for a moment. "Maybe they would even show an autopsy."

He shook his head. "Only you, Scully, would think a show based out of a crime lab is quality T.V. I mean, who would be the star of the show? Agent Tucker from forensics?"

Scully's cell phone chirped as she began to respond. She pulled it out of her briefcase and answered it. A few affirmations later, she ended the call. "Mulder, did you bother to bring your cell phone to work?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

He reached in his jacket pocket and placed the phone on his desk. "The real question you should be asking is if I bothered to charge it."

"Late night at the Gunmen's?" she asked knowingly.

A sigh passed between his lips. "They have a new software program that they just had to show me. Apparently they don't appreciate the value of alien landscaping either."

"Well, stop pouting. That was Skinner. He wants us to see us right now."

"Why didn't he call down here?" he asked.

She shrugged. "He said they were doing some kind of mainframe communication upgrade. I'm sure the Gunmen could give you all the details about it."

He stood up quickly, heading towards the exit. "No, that's ok. I've had my hacker fill. Now it's time for the ass chewing and my week will be set."

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

When Mulder and Scully walked into Skinner's office, they were surprised that there was another person in the room. The middle-aged man stood to the side of Skinner's desk, making it possible for him to see the three of them at the same time. "Deputy Director Fitzgerald," Mulder greeted, familiar with the man.

Scully looked at the older man, not recognizing him. Mulder must have worked with him prior to their partnership. He was a middle-aged man with a serious look that appeared to be permanent. Scully noticed there were no laugh lines on his face. His eyes seemed to pierce whatever they were looking at, which was currently the look of distain on Mulder's face.

Fitzgerald nodded in his direction and pointed to the chairs in front of Skinner's desk. Each agent took a seat; Scully sat poised with her legs crossed at the ankles, looking directly at her boss while Mulder sat with a slight hunch and kept Fitzgerald within his line of vision. "Good morning, Agents," Skinner said formally.

Scully quickly ran through the events over the past few days, trying to come up with a reason why the Deputy Director would feel the need to sit in their meeting. She ran through her mental checklist: no break-ins into military installments, no possession of highly classified material, not even one questionable item on their expense report.

Based on his slightly suspicious look, Mulder was beginning to have an idea why they were called into Skinner's office. He quickly deduced the situation. One Deputy Director sits in a meeting with an Assistant Director with two special agents, one who was the golden boy at BSU and the other was the Bureau's best forensic pathologist, who had no case currently pending. Mulder suppressed a sigh. That could only mean one thing: high profile case. With Fitzgerald here, Mulder could confidently wager his profiling skills were going to be requested.

"Sir, not that we don't enjoy seeing those from the seventh floor, but I've never really agreed with the saying 'the more the merrier‘," Mulder said.

Three things happened simultaneously: Scully's jaw dropped, Skinner's face turned red, and Fitzgerald grimly smiled. "Nice to know you haven't changed, Mulder," he responded.

Mulder leaned back in the chair and looked directly at him. "Why would I do that? My personality had gotten me to where I am today."

"The basement, I know," Fitzgerald said disdainfully. "I'm here to pull you out of there."

Skinner took that as his cue to try to regain control of the situation. Obviously, the two men had some kind of history together, but now was not the time to press that issue. "We appear to have a serial killer running around in Southern California. Over the past few years there have been five deaths. All of the victims have been killed in the same way. Now, the killer's pattern is escalating. Originally the time between killings was one year; it has now jumped to one month apart." He slid them each a copy of the reports pertaining to the case. "You'll have time to review the information on the plane."

"What does the local field office think?" Scully asked.

"They don't," Fitzgerald answered shortly. "Apparently the former ASAC didn't think to take notice of the local PD's request to help them out until politics got involved." At the agents' confused look, he continued, "The latest victim, Stephanie Bell, was related to the Congressman of that district. She was his niece. When Congressman Bell heard that the federal government wasn't acting in this investigation, all hell broke loose."

He glanced at Mulder's direction. "I assured the Congressman that it was a grave oversight on behalf of the FBI and told him that we would have no one but the best working on this case. Which is why you are here," he explained.

"It feels so good to be loved," Mulder deadpanned.

"Don't screw up, Mulder. I don't have to tell you how much is riding on the line if this goes sour. Neither of us really wants Congress looking into how the FBI uses their resources. They might decide the basement is better used for storage," Fitzgerald warned.

"I got it. Make the FBI proud and they let me play with my files a little longer," Mulder responded.

"I want you to start from ground zero. Go back and interview all the family members again. Review all the records. Exhume the damn bodies if you have to. Somebody missed something somewhere and you're going to find it," Fitzgerald said.

The senior agent looked directly at Scully for the first time since she entered the office. "It will be your job, Agent Scully, to assist Agent Mulder with the forensic data. Analyze it; help him to make sense of it." He glanced at Mulder, and then continued, "Off the record, you're there to watch him. If he's going too deep, you have the authority to reign him in."

Before either could respond, Fitzgerald held his hand up. "I'm serious. There is no place to error, not on this case. Based on what I've read about the two of you, you are exactly what Agent Mulder needs: someone objective who he will listen to and trusts." He shifted his gaze back to Mulder. "Don't make her job harder."

Mulder looked at Scully. The two agents exchanged an entire conversation in a glance. Fitzgerald had heard about the strong non-verbal communication between the two, but seeing it was a different thing entirely.

After a few moments, Scully nodded. "Of course, Deputy Director. I'll do whatever I can to assist Agent Mulder in apprehending this killer."

"All right. The flight information is in the files I gave to you." Skinner glanced at his watch. "You have ninety minutes before your flight leaves."

Scully inwardly groaned. That would barely give her enough time to go home, pack and arrive at the airport on time. She nodded briefly, grabbed the folders, and led Mulder out of the office. When he caught up with her she asked, "Want to tell me the history between you and the Deputy Director?"

He shrugged as he pushed the button for the elevator. "Back in my days in BSU, I had a case where Fitzgerald was running the show. A serial who liked to target little boys..." his voice faded as he remembered the horrific case. After a couple of seconds, he pulled himself away from the specifics of the case. "Anyway, I guess I got too deep in the profile and wound up assaulting one of the other agents working the case. Fitzgerald was ready to fire me, Spooky Mulder or no. But, that same day the profile lead to the capture of the suspect.

"He felt that he couldn't punish me after that. Though he disapproved of my methods, he liked the results. So, he swept the whole thing under the rug with the condition that he could call me anytime for any case." He looked back in the direction of Skinner's office. "Let's just call it a mutual dislike for one another."

A small smile passed over Scully's lips. "You sure know how to make friends."

"Hey," he said playfully, "my teachers always warned my parents that I never played well with others."

She rolled her eyes as she got in the elevator car. "Funny, I still think Skinner says that same thing about you now."

Flight 333

11:14 a.m. EST

On the plane, they each took a copy of the report as was their habit. Each would read the file, take notes on areas of interest and look for any potential oversights in the investigation so far. When they were finished, they would swap perspectives. With the ways they looked at data varying so much, it allowed them to come up with a broader range of courses of action.

Mulder sat across from Scully, an aisle separating the two of them. He had no one seated next to him, so he was able to use the spare seat to hold the paperwork he wasn't using. Both trays had been pushed down with the photos of the victims propped against them.

Scully was not so lucky. She had the aisle seat and was next to an overly polite salesman who just had to borrow a few seconds of her time to tell her the wonders of Spot-B-Gone. After a couple of minutes of politely hearing his sales pitch, Scully pulled out one of the more grisly crime scene photos. Mr. Salesman got the idea very quickly and moved on to the poor guy in the window seat, trying to sell his product. She supposed she could have moved to the seat next to Mulder, but understood he needed as much space as possible when he was trying to get the overall picture of the crimes.

She glanced at Mulder, who was reading one of the police reports intently, and pulled out a picture of the first victim, Catrina Carlson. Before she was murdered, the 31 year old woman had a youthful face with long, wavy blonde hair. Her green eyes seemed to laugh at the camera; the smile on her face made her seem ten years younger than she really was. Catrina was a medical biller for one of the largest privately owned hospitals in the area. She was engaged to Jack O' Donnell. She was murdered on their three year anniversary.

Scully set aside Catrina's picture and pulled out the next. The cold brown eyes of Daniel Torres stared back at her. Unlike the jovial demeanor of the previous victim, Daniel seemed hardened. The 24 year old Caucasian had slicked back black hair and a goatee. A long thin scar stretched from the bottom of his ear to his chin. At the time of his murder, Daniel was working at an auto repair shop and living with his girlfriend of five years, Karen Bates.

Next, Scully placed the picture of Nicole Roberts on her tray. She was a 27 year old Latina woman with shoulder length brown hair. Nicole had a mole right above her lip and on her right cheek. She worked out of her home office where she lived with her husband, William Roberts. Nicole was four months pregnant when she was killed.

After Nicole Roberts, the killer altered his timetable. Where the first three people had been murdered exactly one year apart, the next victim was found nine months later.

Demetrius Pappas was a foreign exchange student from Greece. His handsome face was boyish, making it difficult for Scully to believe he was actually 30 years old. He had curly light brown hair, grown out to his shoulder. He had been attending UCR with a major in International Relations. Demetrius lived in an off campus apartment with two roommates at the time of his death.

Finally, Stephanie Bell had been murdered over three weeks ago, one month later. The 39 year old advertising executive was exotic looking. From her olive colored skin to her piercing hazel eyes, nothing was ordinary about her appearance. She lived alone in her condo in Riverside.

Scully set aside the photos and focused on the autopsy report. Each person had been murdered in exactly the same way. Each of the coroner's report noted significant blunt force trauma to the head that occurred before they died. The cause of death was strangulation. Unfortunately, no prints had been left; the killer used an article of their clothing to strangle them. Post mortem, the victims had their tongues cut out.

According to police reports, no connection was found between the victims. None of them knew each other; they spent time in completely different social circles; the financial breakdown of each victim ranged from the very poor to the extremely wealthy. Add the lack of a connection between these people and the apparent lack of motive and the result was one frustrated police force.

She set down the last police report and let out a small sigh. She saw Mulder leaning in her direction. "Hey, Scully. Want to know why the good Congressman took over two weeks to start complaining about the lack of assistance the local PD was getting?"

"Sure, Mulder," she answered flatly, though she was curious.

"Apparently, Congressman Bell was out of the country on vacation when his niece was murdered. His sister, Stephanie Bell's mother, didn't think to contact him until after he returned to the States," he responded. "As soon as he heard about this, he contacted the Director and sent a formal complaint."

"You know, Mulder," Scully said, "I'm starting to think that Congressman Bell might be trying to use his niece's murder for political gain."

He looked amused. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think that your subscription to the Lone Gunmen magazine is finally rubbing off on you."

Ontario International Airport

3:33 p.m. PST

When they disembarked off their plane, Mulder and Scully were unexpectedly greeted by a rather annoyed looking man. "Are you the FBI agents?" the balding man huffed.

The partners exchanged a glance. Skinner hadn't mentioned anything about someone meeting them at the airport. "We are. And you would be?" Scully asked.

The man looked slightly insulted. "I am Congressman Leroy Bell of the 49th District in California. Don't you know the politicians in the House of Representatives?"

Before Scully could answer, Mulder cut in. "Congressman Leroy Bell, a Democrat who has been elected into office for three terms. You have missed 68% of legislative votes this year. Six months ago you stepped down from your position in the Judiciary committee due to political pressure from both parties. Currently you have a sexual harassment lawsuit pending against you from one of your former administrative aides. Your constituents are unhappy with your performance; your job approval rating has fallen below 27 percent. If this continues, Congressman, you're going to be out of a job in November."

Bell flushed, embarrassed by the negative information Mulder recited. "Well," he stammered, "I wouldn't have to be here if you guys at the FBI hadn't screwed up. Because of your incompetence, my niece’s killer is still on the loose. You have failed at your job and I will make sure the American people know who's to blame the next time this killer strikes."

Mulder looked unimpressed at Bell's outburst. "You should have saved your act for the camera, Congressman. Now, please, if you don't mind, my partner and I need to get going. We have a job to do and frankly, so do you."

The two walked away leaving Bell with his jaw hanging. Once they were out of earshot, Mulder leaned down to Scully's ear. "Don't you just love having a partner with a photographic memory?"

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. "You know what they say. Smart is sexy."

Riverside Police Department

4:16 p.m.

Mulder and Scully walked into the plain brick building as they had countless others, with Mulder guiding Scully ever so slightly with his hand on the small of her back. Together they approached the front desk. The receptionist looked at them.

"Let me guess, you two are the FBI agents." At their nod, she grinned knowingly. "No detective around here could afford a Donna Karen or an Armani." They glanced at each other's clothing as she continued speaking. "I'm Julia," she said, holding her hand out for them to shake.

Mulder shook her hand. "I'm Agent Mulder and this is Agent Scully," he said as she shook Scully's hand.

"Nice to meet you. I'll page Detective Moreno for you."

She picked up the phone and they stepped away from the desk. "At least we know we have good taste in clothes," Mulder muttered.

Scully ran her finger across his loud tie. Today's pattern included multi-colored blocked with exclamation points on them. "Mostly good taste."

"I'll have you know this was a very expensive tie," he defended.

"Mulder, it looks like it's something a ten year old would wear. Where did you get this anyway?"

He didn't answer her right away. Finally, he broke down and told her. "Well, see, they guys went to some video game conference last weekend and got this for me. Apparently it's to promote the new Mario Brothers video game. I told them I would wear it to see your reaction," he said sheepishly.

"Figures," she said under her breath.

Their exchange was interrupted by a women walking up to them. "Hello, I am Detective Patricia Moreno. You two are here for the serial murders, right?" They nodded as the rest of the introductions were made. "If you two would follow me, I can take you to where the base of operations is."

As she led them down the hallway, Mulder studied the young woman. She was probably in her early 30s with dark brown hair pulled back in a bun. She wore little makeup, highlighting her natural beauty. Her wire-rimmed glasses finished off her professional look. She was slightly taller than Scully, who was walking next to the detective. Moreno's stride matched Scully's: calm, in control, and authoritive.

Moreno's voice brought Mulder's attention back to the conversation. "We converted this old break room into a hub for this investigation. Everything pertaining to this case will be in here." She motioned to the two men sitting at their desk as they walked through the doorway. "This is Detective Richard Hale and our Crime Scene Technician Stanley Crichton." She pointed to the stacks of papers covering various tables and desks in the room. "We have been working our tails off trying to find this guy," she added accusatorily.

Mulder inwardly sighed. He did not have the time or mental energy to waste on a local versus federal law enforcement argument. "Detective Moreno, we are here to help," he reminded her.

Moreno looked at him for a few seconds, trying to judge the sincerity of his words. He didn't turn away from her icy stare. He knew it was important for her to believe that they were as dedicated as her team was to finding the killer. Moreno nodded slowly, not sure if she could trust the agents. "Thank you. So now that you two are here what do you want to do first?"

"We'd like to re-interview the people closest to the victims. There has to be some kind of connection that has been overlooked. We just need to see what they have in common," Mulder answered.

Moreno rolled her eyes. "What makes you think that we haven't tried doing that? Arrogant Feds..." she mumbled. Louder she said, "OK. Rich, can you see if you can arrange a meeting with Jack O'Donnell for me?"

The red head nodded. "Sure thing, Boss."

Moreno turned back to the agents. "We'll see if we can do this interview tonight and the rest we'll do tomorrow, ok?"

Though it was phrased in a question, her tone made it clear there was an expectation of agreement. "Detective Moreno," Scully said, "as Agent Mulder implied earlier, we are all on the same team. We are here to work with you, not against you. We would appreciate the same respect."

Hale cut in before Moreno could respond. "Everything's a go. Jack O'Donnell is at his apartment."

Moreno nodded her thanks. "Come on 'team', let's go."

Mulder and Scully exchanged a glance. This was going to be an interesting evening.

Jack O'Donnell's Residence

5:02 p.m.

Jack O'Donnell's apartment was a cozy environment, reminding Mulder of Scully's home. It wasn't quite the decor he would have imagined for a single man in his thirties. Jack saw his questioning look. "Cat decorated the place. I haven't been able to change anything."

He led them to her living room and they sat on the couch while he settled on the loveseat adjacent to them. "So, do you guys really think the person responsible for Cat's murder the serial killer the news has been talking about?"

Mulder smiled politely. "Mr. O'Donnell, it really isn't appropriate for us to go into those details yet. But, we did have some questions we would like to ask you."

He grimly nodded. "If I can help save someone else from what happened to Cat, I will do anything you ask," he assured them.

Scully watched as Mulder began to mentally write a list of questions to ask the distraught man. With his previous experience at BSU, Mulder was more knowledgeable in how and what to ask the victims to get the answers he needed to write an effective profile. Scully often watched his technique when he was in his profiler mode, fascinated by how his brain was able to make leaps in logic that most weren't capable of.

"Let's get a fresh start. I know it was a while ago, but can we go over the day Cat was murdered?" His tone was sympathetic; he hated the fact the young man would have to relive the worst day of his life.

The brunette nodded. "It's not a day I will ever forget." He folded his hands as he began to recollect his final hours with his lover. "It was a Thursday. We both had the day off to celebrate our three year anniversary. We did our errands: grocery shopping, went to the post office and dropped off some clothes at the dry cleaners. The rest of the day was spent doing whatever we wanted. Her gift to me was a helicopter ride around the Inland Empire." He smiled at the memory. "She knew I always wanted to be a pilot."

"Anyway, we did that and then we ate a late lunch at Frank's Steakhouse. Then, we drove downtown so I could give her my present. Cat was always into the new age stuff so I took her down to this psychic. I had her fortune told and her palm read."

This caught Mulder's attention. "Was she told anything significant?"

Jack laughed bitterly. "That woman was a load of crap. She told her that Cat would have a long life full of happiness and joy." He shook his head. "I always told Cat never to trust those people."

Still, Mulder pushed for more information. "Were you there at the reading itself or did you wait for your girlfriend?"

Rolling his eyes, Jack answered, "Oh, Cat insisted I go in there with her. She wanted me to remember everything the lady said. She was so excited." He ran a hand through his hair. "So, I stayed there for the fifteen minutes listening to the mumbo jumbo coming out of that lady's mouth. After she was done, Cat bought some 'love potion' from her and we went home."

"Love potion?" Scully couldn't help asking.

The man shrugged. "Colored water, probably. After we got back to the apartment, I needed to go pick up my check at work and she was going to cook dinner. That was about six o'clock. I got my check and deposited it. I came back around 6:45. And that's when I found out she was missing." A tear slid down his cheek. "I will never forgive myself. If only I had asked her to come, she would still be here."

"Mr. O'Donnell, you can't blame yourself," Mulder said. He stood up; the two women repeated his action. "Thank you very much for your assistance."

Jack walked them to the door. "Thank you. I hope you find this bastard and make him pay for what he has done."

The three made their ways back to the cars. Moreno turned to Mulder as the agent approached their rental. "So, what did my guys miss?" she asked with a tone of challenge in her voice.

He shrugged; he wasn't in the mood to have a battle between jurisdictions. "Probably nothing. Thank you for helping us, Detective." He got in the driver's seat before he could be provoked any further by Moreno.

The agents drove away and went to their hotel. Mulder quickly transformed his room into a disaster zone: stacks of papers were precariously balanced on the edge of the bed, crime scene photos were separated into various piles, notepads with Mulder's handwriting on them were scattered throughout the room. He was beginning to boot up his laptop when a knock came from the connecting door.

"Come in," he yelled.

Scully slowly passed through the door frame. "Not wasting any time?"

"I can't. Not with Fitzgerald breathing down my neck."

A look of guilt passed over her face. "Detective Moreno just called me. She invited me to eat dinner with her, exchange perspectives on the case. Do you think you could wait to start working?"

He smiled slightly. "I think it's safe to say that the good detective doesn't care much for me. I'll pass. But, hey, it wouldn't help to put in a good word for me, you know."

"I'll see what I can do." She looked at the grisly data that covered the room. "If you need anything, Mulder, don't hesitate to call, ok?"

He put an "X" over his heart. "I promise."

Old Spaghetti Factory

6:22 p.m.

Scully wondered for the third time why she was at the restaurant instead of helping Mulder go through the data. It would have been more productive than being with the detective. Though they were well into their salad course, Moreno barely exchanged a dozen words with her. Finally, Scully decided she would have to be the one to break the silence. "How long have you been working on this case, Detective?"

The brunette looked up from her barely eaten salad. She put down her fork and answered, "From the beginning. I was a lieutenant when a call for Catrina Carlson's murder came in. It was the first murder I had ever been called to." She laughed bitterly. "I wasn't prepared for what I felt. The sorrow, the anger and when no one could find the killer, the injustice. Eventually I got promoted to detective. Anytime a murder case passed my desk I would try find a connection between it and the Carlson case. Putting an end to this has become my obsession."

She turned and shot Scully with an icy stare. "You know, we probably could have caught this character if we would have gotten help from the FBI sooner."

Peacemaking was not was of Scully's strong suits. Usually, she argued her point until the other side conceded. However, she knew for this investigation to be successful, Moreno's cooperation was required. "Detective, I apologize for the agent who dismissed your request. Agent Mulder and I have been assured that he has been made responsible for his actions. All we can do is focus on what is going on now. Agent Mulder is one of the best profilers the FBI has to offer. If there is anything for him to find, he will."

The detective seemed unimpressed with Scully's stamp of approval. "No offense, but your partner doesn't strike me as a brilliant profiler. I mean, instead of asking Jack O'Donnell about anything relative, Agent Mulder spent his time following up on what a psychic told Jack's girlfriend. It seems a bit farfetched for me."

Scully had to squash the feelings of defensiveness she felt. True, Mulder's methods were strange to some, but for those who knew what he was capable of, he was a genius. It seemed obvious to Scully that much of Mulder's time would be spent trying to prove himself to Moreno and that was unfair to him as well as the investigation.

She decided to put an end to the detective's protests. "If you have any doubt about his credentials I would suggest that you contact the FBI Headquarters. I am confident they would be able to lay aside any issues you may have on the validity of Agent Mulder's ability to profile."

Moreno didn't seem at all surprised by her assertiveness. If anything, it only spurred her more. "I would be more interested in hearing your perspective. As his partner I am sure you know him better than anyone."

In that regard, the detective was correct. There was no one who understood Mulder more than Scully. Some days it was a burden, always having to be the one to help him in times of trouble when he had no one else to turn to. But, in situations like these, where he needed to be bragged on, Scully was proud to be his friend.

"Agent Mulder is the most brilliant law enforcement officer I have ever met. He takes situations that most people would deem unsolvable and comes up with a resolution. His methods may seem unorthodox, but they are effective. There isn't anyone I would want working on this case other than Agent Mulder. All it would do would waste what little time we have before the murderer strikes again," she said proudly.

To her surprise, Moreno put her hands up in defeat. "All right, Agent Scully, I believe you. I will let him do what he needs to, but if he does something to jeopardize this case, I'm holding him responsible."

"You don't have to worry about that. If Mulder fails, he will punish himself enough," Scully assured her.

EZ Sleep Inns

Room 12

7:27 a.m.

For the first time in hours, Mulder stood up to see the damage done to his room. The walls had been covered by the crime scene photos; the bed was a smorgasbord of police reports; the table looked as if a paper blizzard had hit it. Despite all the mess, he had little to show for it.

He knew coming into the case finding a connection was going to be difficult, but wasn't too daunted. After all, he was the profiler who could make evidence appear out of thin air. He could see things no one else could; that's why he was sent there. However, he had to admit, this case was already giving him trouble. Maybe Fitzgerald was right; somebody did miss something.

A quick glance at the alarm clock told Mulder he was running out of time. Soon the business of the day would need to be attended to and the profile would have to be put on hold. He hoped Scully would give him extra time this morning, knowing he was up late working on the profile.

*Knock knock*

He always knew he had bad luck. Quickly he tried to nearly stack several piles of paper without disturbing their order. He looked at his clothes; they were the same ones he wore the day before. There was no way he could let Scully see that. Being reamed out by her was not the way he wanted to start his day.

"What do you need? I'm about to hit the shower," he yelled.

"You just don't want me to see what it looked like in there," came the muffled response.

There was no way he was about to admit she was right, so he went for his favorite weapon in his arsenal: the unwanted sexual innuendo. "Scully, if you wanted to wash my back all you had to do was ask."

As expected, silence greeted him. He could picture her blushing at the comment. Finally she said, "I'm giving you fifteen minutes then I'm coming in. And you better have some clothes on."

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

True to her word, Scully knocked on his door a quarter hour later. During that time, Mulder had managed to take a shower, shave, get dressed and establish some kind of order to his hotel room. He opened the door with a "See? You were worried over nothing" look.

She barely hid her smile. "It must have been a disaster in here."

"Why?" he asked defensively. He did not rush around for the past fifteen minutes just so she could laugh at him.

This time she could not suppress her grin. "Mulder, you aren't wearing any pants."

He looked down and sure enough, his legs were bare. A glance in the mirror showed him he had everything else on, including boxers, socks and shoes. "I knew it felt a little chilly in here," he said as he grabbed his missing garment off the hanger and walked into the bathroom.

"How did your dinner go?" he asked, hoping to change subjects.

Fortunately, Scully let his faux pas pass. "It was alright. I think the detective has a better understanding of you and how you work."

"But she's not going to be the president of the Fox Mulder fan club?" he asked, opening the door.

"No," she said. She looked around the room. "How was your night?"

He grunted his frustration. "Let's just hope we find something today that the good ol' Riverside PD didn't see. I don't know if I'm just getting old or am out of practice, but I can not get a hold on this guy."

Scully walked closer to him and put her hand on her shoulder. "Mulder, don't blame yourself. We just got here. I know you'll get your footing soon enough. I believe in you," she finished softly.

There was part of him that was embarrassed. He knew how to deal with Scully angry, sad or tired. But when she showed him open displays of kindness, he had a tendency to revert back to a ten year old boy. Instead of returning the sentiment, he would distance himself from her with humor. This time was no exception.

"Scully, you sure you aren't the president of my fan club?"

For a moment there was a look of disappointment on her face. How could they be best friends with each other and not be able to express that with words, she wondered. It was difficult for her to stay within the boundaries that Mulder wanted: intimately close on things of his heart yet painfully distant with things that were secondary to him. "No, that's Frohike," she responded shortly.

Realizing his mistake, Mulder grabbed her arm as she started walking away. "I was just kidding. Thank you," he said uncomfortably. Sincere words were rarely the communication of choice between them.

She softened for a second. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Karen Bates Residence

8:42 a.m.

Moreno met Mulder and Scully outside Karen Bates’ run down home. The neighborhood was older and most people living there didn't make an effort with its upkeep. Mulder could feel the stares of nosy neighbors peeking out their barred windows, trying to see something that they could gossip about later in the afternoon.

If the detective noticed anyone watching her activity, she didn't show it. She walked to their car. "So far she hasn't answered her phone. Don't expect any cooperation for her," Moreno warned.

Scully's eyebrows went down in confusion. "Then why are we here? She's probably not home."

"Oh, she's here alright." She led the agents to the front door and pounded on the screen. "Open the door, Karen." After thirty seconds with no answer, she knocked again. "I can always come back with a warrant," she threatened.

The door opened slightly. "What the hell do you want, pig?"

Mulder and Scully stiffened. It had been a long time since either of them had heard such open hostility towards law enforcement. Obviously this woman's attitude was not surprising because Moreno wasn't at all fazed by her disrespect. "These are Agents Scully and Mulder. They have some questions about Mr. Torres' murder."

The young woman shifted her icy glare to Mulder and Scully. "He's dead. Any other questions?"

"Miss Bates, we'll try not to take up too much of your time. We just need some clarification on some things so we can help find the person who did this to Mr. Torres," Scully said coolly, trying not to agitate Bates.

"Some people think I should be happy about what happened to Daniel. Right, Detective?" she asked mockingly.

Before Moreno could rise to her bait, Mulder spoke up. "Do you know what Mr. Torres did the last twenty-four hours he was alive?"

Bates rolled her eyes. "Yeah, he spent it with one of the girls he was sleeping with on the side."

"Does she have a name?"

For some reason Scully's question brought a grim smile to her face. "Yeah, Leah Ortega. But I'm sorry to say you aren't going to be able to ask her any questions. She killed herself a couple of years ago."

A baby's cry sounded from the back of the house. She shot Moreno a nasty look. "I have to get him. And the next time you come around here, pig, you better have a warrant in your hand," she said before she slammed the door in their faces.

The three walked away. "And I thought the bullpen on the third floor was brutal," he muttered to Scully.

As they approached their cars, Mulder and Scully couldn't hide their interest in what sparked such a bitter relationship between the two women. "During the 'suicide' of Leah Ortega, we had a bit of a run in. We had evidence nailing her to the murder of Leah, but she got off on a stupid technicality," Moreno explained before they could ask. "I have never forgiven her for getting of the hook and she can't handle the fact I know what she did."

"What did she mean about some people think she should be happy about what happened to Mr. Torres?" Scully couldn't help asking.

Moreno sighed. It could have been his imagination, but Mulder could have sworn the dark circles under the detective's eyes were getting more pronounced as the day progressed. "She's talking about something I said when Daniel Torres was first found murdered. I asked her why she wasn't grateful for the person who did this to him."

She held up her hand to thwart any objections from the agents. "You have to understand Daniel Torres was a disgrace to our community. He was in and out of jail his whole life. He would beat on Kathy nearly every week. Everyone on the force knew about those two. I didn't particularly mourn when I found out Daniel had been killed. If you ask me, he got exactly what was coming to him."

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

Scully looked at the affluent neighborhood carefully. The upscale community was nothing like the homes they had just left. Instead of beat-up clunkers, the cars in the street looked like they had just been driven off the lot. Each yard was perfectly landscaped, nothing was out of place. It was a place earlier in her life, she would have wanted to live in. She glanced at the grimace on Mulder's face; he could never handle a structured community like this.

"You know what this street needs? A basketball hoop in the front yard."

Of course, she thought, anything to disrupt the order of the neighborhood. "Mulder, these people probably have a full court behind their house."

His frown deepened. "Too bad most of them probably wouldn't play hard enough to break out in a sweat. I wonder if I show them my badge if they'll let me play," he said playfully.

After the turned a corner, they found William Roberts' home. It was as beautiful as the other homes they had passed. Scully wondered what profession William was in to be able to afford such a house.

They parked their car behind Moreno's Crown Victoria and exited. Moreno walked to the door without addressing them. Mulder leaned down to Scully's ear. "You still think she doesn't hate me?"

"I'm sure, Mulder," she said, following the detective, "she's upset at the fact we confronted her about her feelings pertaining to Mr. Torres."

"That's a nice way of rephrasing the fact she found a person's murder acceptable," he replied.

Scully noted the beautiful flowers along the path they were walking on. The trail of roses and lilies led them to a large sitting area outside. Beyond that was the front of the house. The three continued down the path. Before they could reach the porch, a man in his mid-fifties opened the door. "Please, come in. Lucy is bringing some tea," he said kindly.

They were led to a large living room which was obviously professionally decorated. Scully had no doubt that the Thomas Kinkade on the wall was an original. Everything in the room was so perfectly in place that it seemed that no one had ever used the room.

William shook each of their hands as they introduced themselves. "I have to admit, Detective, I was surprised to here from your department after so long."

Moreno shrugged. "The FBI wants to make sure that we did our jobs right. I'm sure all of these questions will sound familiar to you."

Scully suppressed a cringe. So much for the progress she thought she had made the night before. It seemed as if Moreno was back on her campaign to make life miserable for them. She glanced at Mulder who was looking at Moreno with disgust. Scully knew he had his share of run ins with law enforcement before; now it was just one more challenge for him to overcome in order to achieve success on this case.

When Mulder opened his mouth, Scully wasn't sure if he was going to talk to William or chide the detective. Fortunately, a woman came in with a tray of snacks and tea on it before he could speak. "Thank you Lucy. Please, have some tea," he said, gesturing to the cups.

By the time everyone had finished preparing their drinks to their liking, Mulder decided to let Moreno's comment pass. He turned his attention to William. "First of all, I want to apologize for coming here and reopening old wounds. How would you categorize your relationship you had with your former wife?"

William shot Lucy a look, who quietly excused herself from the room. "Lucy has some trouble hearing things about Nicole," he explained. He blew a puff of air out his mouth. "If you would have asked me before Nicole was...murdered, I would have told you things between us were perfect. Looking back, it was a relationship that never was meant to be. We got married for all the wrong reasons. I loved her for her youth. She was twenty-one years younger than me," he elaborated. "And she loved my wealth. Frankly, I didn't care what she did with it as long as she stayed faithful to me."

"Were you with her the day she died?" Scully asked.

William looked away, ashamed. "For part of it. Look, I'll be straight with you, Agents. Nicole and I had a nasty fight that day. I'm sure you've read that in your police report."

"Actually," Mulder said, looking at the detective, "that piece of information never seemed to make it into the report. What did you two fight about?"

"Nicole was four months pregnant and still going out like she was 16 years old. I told her that she needed to grow up and start thinking about the welfare of our child instead of just herself." His eyes began tearing up. "That's when she told me that the baby wasn't mine. I was so upset; I told her she had until I returned from my business trip to get out of my house. After the fight, I flew to Houston for the National Podiatrists Convention. The next morning I got a call from our housekeeper, Lucy, saying she discovered Nicole had left, but didn't take anything with her. That's when I knew something was wrong."

William began crying in earnest now. "Please, forgive me." He picked up his tea cup and sipped on the soothing liquid.

"Did you ever have any DNA testing done on the fetus?" Scully asked.

He shook his head, the tea cup trembling in his hand. "I couldn't. There is a part of me that wants to believe that Nicole was just mad at me that day. I don't want to live the rest of my life knowing that I was a fool the entire course of my marriage."

Mulder started to stand, signaling the end of his interview. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Roberts."

William walked them back to the front door. "I know Nicole and I didn't leave on good terms, but I loved her. I hope you find that scumbag that killed my wife and baby and make him pay for what he did."

"We're doing our best," Mulder said, as he led Scully back to their car.

When they got back to the street, the confrontation that had been brewing since their arrival at the police department came to a boiling point. Unsurprisingly, it was Mulder who started it. "Do you still believe re-interviewing these people is a waste of time, Detective?"

Moreno shrugged. "He was in Houston the time of her murder. I don't think the fight has any bearing on this case."

Scully knew Mulder was pissed off. His voice was monotone; his expression blank. "That's not your job. Don't pick and choose what information in pertinent to my case," he said.

The detective was not about to be upstaged by him. Fire flashed in her eyes as she walked inches in front of his face. "Your case?" she spat. "You think you can just come here and take over an investigation that has taken three years of my life?"

"If you and your people could have solved this case on your own, we wouldn't have to be here," he taunted. "It seems like you need all the help you can get."

Scully knew if she didn't step in soon, the situation would be out of control. "Mulder, that's enough," she said softly.

Feeling betrayed, he quickly whipped around to face his partner. After a brief silent conversation, Mulder grudgingly backed down.

The damage had been done, despite Scully's intervention. "Fine, you can solve 'your' case on your own. Good luck," Moreno said sarcastically. She jerked open the door and got into her car.

Scully rocked on her heels, eyebrows raised. "That went well," she muttered.

"You know me, Mr. Congeniality."

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